War of the Three Planets Collection (Book 01)

by Justin Bell

  I wonder when the summer dance is this year? I bet this crazy head of mine could bust some sick moves.

  My fingers prance a few more times, I see more lines of code and another brief flash of schematic diagrams, then before I can even translate what I'm seeing into something coherent, my finger makes one last stab. The code starts self-deleting and the screen shuts down.

  I guess I've seen everything I need to see?

  Turning from the terminal, I walk towards the closet and reach up into a hidden panel in the ceiling above where my bright, frilly dresses are all stored on clothes hangers, one right after the other. With a press of my fingers, the panel pushes upwards, then slides aside. I pull over a chair, step up onto it and reach into the ceiling, until I touch the familiar bunch of cloth. A folded pile of clothing rests in the corner of this hidden alcove storage area above my closet. I'm not sure how it got here or why, but it's there and I'm grasping it, pulling it down, and dropping it on the carpeted floor. The panel moves back. I drop quietly from the chair, slide it back where it belongs, then make my way to the bathroom with the pile of clothing.

  It only takes a few moments to put on the dark contoured rubberized armor that snaps tightly to my limbs. It almost looks and has a texture like cloth, but it's form fitting like the armor the Adroxis Security Officers wear, and it's thicker than a normal outfit. As I move, the interwoven armor moves along with me, adhering to my muscles and flexing as I flex, moving as I move. It's almost like a second skin. As I turn towards the mirror, I can see where two extra sleeves have been trimmed off and sealed up with polymer.

  I don't recall doing any of this.

  None of this is a fragment of memory in this busy head of mine, but who else could have done it?

  Almost by instinct I reach behind my neck to find folds of fabric that pull up over my head. The mask molds my hair tightly to my head then conforms to the contours of my face.

  In the mirror, I get a full length view of myself in the thick rubber armor bodysuit that follows each contour of my body.

  I'm a ninja. Mother help me I'm a teenage ninja.

  This is what my life is now? How did this happen?

  The transformation from cute, blond generational school student to bad attitude, armored teenage ninja in the span of a month has got to be some kind of record.

  I look at the closed window on the opposite side of my small room, considering my next move. My previous adventures involved walking down the hallway and out the front door, but I suspect that won't be an option this time. I've pushed way too many buttons and tripped too many triggers.

  In my head I can picture a phalanx of Adroxis Security with their form-fitting silver armor, thick padded black vests, and rectangular plasma weapons at the ready. My confidence is a rising river tonight, but it hasn't risen quite that high.

  Turning on my heel, I stride over to run my fingers along the seam of the window. When your room is this high up, most windows are sealed tight to avoid any kind of accidental release, and my window appears to be no different.

  So I've got a hallway full of security, or an unbreakable window . . . what a choice?

  It becomes clear, crystal clear.

  Not even considering the alternatives, I walk towards the door, my dark outfit moving with silence on the carpeted floor. Black isn't my color, but as far as sneaky ninja outfits go, I'm on board.

  My fingers grasp the handle of the door, then squeeze to key the auto-unlock. The clicking mechanism of the door might as well be a gunshot in the quiet room, so I open the door quickly and lunge out into the hallway, full ninja outfit and all.

  How about that? Even more security than I thought.

  I count six, then seven, and settle on eight as they all spin in unison towards the opened door, lift their weapons to their shoulders, and orchestrate placement of four arms. All this is choreographed to direct fire straight towards me. I almost feel privileged.

  They don't fire because the hallway is enclosed and most of the empty space is filled by security officers. I suppose they figured little old Brie Northstar would be intimidated enough by the security presence to back into the room with hands lifted and abandon all hope of escape.

  Nope, not intimidated.

  But I do question my judgment.

  Jerking to the right, I break into a swift dash, covering the distance between the opened door and the first security officer within a half second. Simply by reflex, he takes a step back. I reach forward, grab the barrel of his plasma weapon, then twist and thrust out my leg to slam him straight in the chest. His fingers fly open as he slams over backwards with his legs flying up and the back of his head drilling into the hard floor of the hallway. I confiscate his weapon as he stumbles. I turn back towards the door with the gun wedged in my shoulder and squeeze off a quick barrage of purple, spraying the hall ceiling with scorching energy. As sparks dance and embedded lights explode from above, the security officers hesitate just a moment before attempting to return fire, taking time to consider their options.

  It's just enough time for me. Instead of charging forward, I veer left and slide my way back into my bedroom, slamming the door with my shoulder. As the echo rings out in the hallway I hear the frantic murmur of curious voices wondering what the point of that little exercise was, and even as they work to figure it out, I turn my eyes on the window.

  I lift the weapon and adjust the dial sighting in on the center of the thick, wind resistant glass.

  Wind resistant, yes. Plasma resistant? Hopefully not so much.

  Behind me rapid fire pounds on the door signaling Adroxis Security's attempt at a quick break and enter. I zero my sights, then pull the trigger.

  A beam of straight green light blasts from the barrel. A stream of pure energy glances off the glass, scattering away, but leaving a thick divot where it struck the darkened window.

  Man, this glass is tough.

  Four more heavy slams to the door behind me have the metal buckling as they attempt to force their way in.

  I fire again. The slim rectangular weapon hums in my tight grasp when a blinding beam of light flashes from the barrel...

  ... and punches through the glass. It strikes the original divot, the window shatters apart, and dark glass sprays in an oblong halo around the rectangular hole in the side of my bedroom wall. Air rushes in bringing the rattling barrage of outside noise into my inner peace. Just behind me, the door makes one final complaint, then blasts inward, releasing a flood of security.

  I hurl my spent weapon at the encroaching guards and as they hesitate just long enough to wonder what I'm doing, I charge forward, taking the distance towards the wall in two long, swift strides, then launch myself.

  "Stop!" one of them shouts, and before he even realizes what he's doing, he's lifting his weapon and firing.

  Purple light splashes the wall to my left as I leap through the air, pointing my arms forward and willing myself into a narrow, straight line with my eyes focusing on the hole that doesn't seem large enough for me.

  More purple light screams over my left leg, sending a wave of tingling pressure up into my hip, but it's a glancing wound and my momentum doesn't change. As one last stun blast smashes into the wall just above my head, I duck and close my eyes.

  There is a sudden shift from artificial warmth to pure, windblown cold, and just like that, my body hangs suspended in midair outside my bedroom window, dozens of stories from the street below.

  The night is penetrated by a haphazard scattering of yellow lights from neighboring buildings and the rushing turbines of passing vehicles banking around the top section of my apartment building.

  I hang there for milliseconds, even less, though it feels like an eternity, and then, I fall.

  Chapter Seven

  The wind beats at me and the entire world around me grinds to a halt as I emerge from the broken window out into empty air. With my knees pulled deep into my chest, I draw in breath, and hover for what seems like minutes, but is only fractions o
f a second.

  My downward trajectory pulls me out away from the wall of the apartment building. The city lights surround me blur into yellowed streaks as I topple forward into a lazy somersault, flipping down through the cool night air.

  Once again, I followed the instincts of this strange, super powered brain of mine, but this might have just been my final brainstorm as the empty air wraps its cold arms around me in a final embrace, pulling me down.

  As I complete a second, graceful flip, my eyes lock onto it, about ten feet below me, closing fast. The yellow car is perched at one of the countless airway fuel stations scattered throughout the city of Adroxis. I pull myself vertical and release my knees to drop like an arrow, then coil my legs as my boot-covered feet strike the yellow roof of the parked vehicle with its low humming turbines keeping it afloat. The impact of my landing drives the vehicle down a few feet, rocking it underneath me, but I manage to maintain my balance even as the engines kick to life drawing the vehicle back upwards, righting the tilt.

  In a low crouch, I catch myself with both hands, steadying myself as the vehicle finishes stabilizing itself.

  For a few precious moments I wait there in a crouch, looking out from the skin tight balaclava, seeing other cars zipping all around in a frantic race against unseen opponents. Cylindrical buildings rise up towards the darkened sky, thousands of lights glaring like mounted stars.

  A swift burst of siren echoes from behind me.

  "Don't move!" the voice is loud over the speaker attached to the side of the black and white security car which rounds my apartment and draws near to the yellow sedan I'm perched upon.

  It's good advice, but I take advice about as well as any other teenager does.

  I change my grip on the edge of the roof, launch myself up and around, and then punch both feet through the driver's side window. It explodes inward, showering the front two seats with gum-caked safety glass. I hit the seat, slide under the console, then tear off a panel underneath the steering column.

  "You are surrounded!" comes the next tinny voice over the speaker, as I glance up to the rear view mirror. A second security vehicle has joined the first and hovers just next to it. Not quite 'surrounded' but getting there.

  My fingers tangle in among the circuit boards underneath the console, pulling a jumper free then setting a rocker switch. I fire the ignition and the two rear turbines chortle, then roar, scooping up the rear of the car and tossing it almost high enough in the air to tumble forwards.

  Personally, I can handle a graceful somersault through the air, but can a full-sized turbine powered yellow sedan? Probably not so much.

  I adjust the front thrusters, straighten out the vehicle, then reengage the accelerator just as the two security cars approach the rear. With a low blast, the sedan lurches forward under a scream of powered fans, banks a hard right, and joins the stream of traffic just outside the apartment.

  Scattered blares of annoyed horns echo around me, but after butting over into the left lane, I'm soon blended into the line of traffic and moving at consistent speeds along with the other vehicles on the airway. Behind me the two security vehicles are making their own way into the line as the blue lights strobing on their sleek, black roofs clear a path for them.

  My head swivels as I try to gauge the influx of traffic. It's late and the tight clutch of cars seems to be spreading out around me as I move, and although the security vehicles are close behind, I have a few car lengths on them and some room to move. I ease the nose of the car down, take one last peek in the rear view mirror, and then slam on the accelerator, shooting the yellow car forward at a downward angle. The roof scrapes the rear of the vehicle in front of me, spraying a thin blanket of sparks, but it doesn't even slow me down as I sweep down under the line of traffic, pull straight, and veer left towards another cluster of tall buildings. Sirens warbling, the security vehicles mimic my motions, pick up speed, and draw closer.

  Up ahead a rounded building blocks my way. I lead the security car right, then peel off left, just missing the edge of the building as I swerve around it.

  Behind my eyes I can see the strobe light flashes of the console screen I had pulled up before my hasty exit from my room. My current position flashes on an overlay of schematics of the city's mass transport routes. As I round the building and veer back right, horns scream at me for cutting across three lanes of airway like a yellow streak against the darkened sky. I ignore them all as the traffic pattern diagram in my mind guides me to where I need to go.

  The car rocks to the right when a dull whack echoes from the rear left. I glance back to see one of the Adroxis Security Officers leaning out his window with a weapon clutched in his two right hands. He fires another blast of purple plasma which glances off the driver's side door, sending the vehicle lunging hard to the right as turbines whine in protest.

  I navigate through my internal menus of vehicle transit routes, then pull the nose of the vehicle up and surge forward, avoiding another arrow of opaque energy as it screams below and to my right. The security car at my rear gains on me. A third car is joining the other two, picking up speed and trying to flank me.

  "Two blocks ahead," I mumble to myself. The words come from those dark recesses of my brain to my vocal chords after stopping at my actual consciousness for translation.

  A clunking sputter sends one of the left turbines howling, then halting. The car slows as two security vehicles come up on either side.

  Plasma is doing its damage. Three more purple spears scream past the car, just missing as I haul the controls to the right and slam the brakes, dipping the nose down. Two pursuers hurtle past me on either side, though the vehicle at the rear slows, matching my maneuver and banking along with me as I send the car screaming forward again, arcing around a large, rectangular window-filled building ahead. Fading whines signal the thrusters turning the two patrol cars we left behind as they alter their trajectory and cut across lanes of traffic to catch up with me. They're moving scary fast on an intercept course and I can see this getting very ugly.

  "Just around that building," I whisper to myself, my eyes sweep back and forth, taking in the view in front of me, as my crazy brain calculates all the different options.

  I dip down again, but I can't dip too far or my rear pursuit car will be on top of me. If I veer up, it'll slow me down too much and I'll be bracketed within seconds.

  My senses zero in on the large windowed structure ahead. I make a few course corrections so the broad nose is facing the center of the building ahead. To my left the two patrol cars scream forward, while at my rear another inches up behind me, too close for comfort.

  As I steer with one hand, I fumble in the ceiling and retract the roof panel, flipping a switch. The click and scrape signals the panel is unlatching and lifting. It is separating from the structure of the car and withdrawing inch by inch towards the rear of the car, peeling itself away.

  Wind beats at my face though the form-fitting mask covers most of my skin. Up ahead the patrol cars pick up speed, not scared of what might come next.

  I'm not either.

  I really should be. What the heck am I doing?

  As I push the car forward, the lone left turbine groans its distaste, but the car still moves, wobbling on its adjusted lift. “Hold on a few seconds now.” I beg.

  The building looms tall and wide ahead, a defiant Goliath, standing in the way of progress, daring me to try to get past it.

  Now's the time. The patrol cars are right on top of me.

  I pull both knees to my chest, jump up into the driver's seat in a low crouch, then wait.

  As the yellow car barrels into the hood of the first patrol vehicle, I piston my legs straight to shoot myself up and out of the vehicle, using the momentum of the crashing sedan to further catapult me forward.

  Down just below me the second patrol car blasts into the driver's side door, rending metal, smashing plastic, and throwing shrapnel and sparks in broad, uncontrolled arcs. It tears off a chunk of the
retracting roof and sends it spiraling through the air, end over end.

  The tall building is standing over me, its nearness now a comfort rather than a threat. As I hit the arc of my jump and drift downward, I reach out, clutching at a balcony railing. My fingers scream, but hold tight to the narrow metal even as my arm muscles tug and yell. My ribs slam into a fancy scroll, sending agony tearing up through my right side, but I push it all down deep and loop my second arm up onto the railing, lifting myself in one fell swoop.

  Even as the third patrol car deftly avoids the collision and veers up towards me, I'm vaulting over the railing and charging forward to smash my shoulder through the sliding glass door of the apartment the balcony is attached to.

  Purple plasma splashes across the railing and concrete as I disappear inside, avoiding the worst of it. As I run through the apartment, my left leg screams, reminding me of the energy wound I suffered earlier, but I ignore it, jerking my body through hallways, then bursting through the front door of the apartment, out into the main corridor. Wooden shards spray all over the floor with the force of my impact, but I'm already moving again, dashing down the hall as I hear voices echo from within the apartment behind me.

  "Who was that?" one shouts.

  "What's going on?" another demands.

  "Adroxis Security!" comes a final hard, sharp bellow, as the last car dispatches its passengers to chase me down.

  Turning my arm I look at the timepiece embedded in the rubberized sleeve of this black jumpsuit.

  "Three minutes," I whisper. "Don't be late."

  I bolt down another corridor, scanning the ceiling for a sign indicating an exit. Finally I spot one and follow the lit signs down other passages. As I make a turn, a plasma weapon explodes the corner, spewing chunks of wall to my left. They're still right on my tail.

  Up ahead, I spot one last exit sign perched just above a broad window on the opposite side of the building I entered from.