At least things were starting to get interesting.
**
Explosions bloomed against the distant hillside, a heavy thunder; backdrop for an overflight of what had to be Kel fighters. They blitzed across the scene but fired no shots as Zac watched from his perch atop a high tree. The fighters raced down the valley, shadows rising and falling as they rolled over the uneven terrain. Eerily quiet, they were, zipping along in laser-straight flight. They hit a break in the hills and hooked sharply to the left and out of sight. The alien craft made so little sound, no jet engines or rockets; just a low-frequency whine that warbled the air with whatever energy field moved them, it was unsettling to behold. A sound that was mostly overwhelmed by the fury of the battle taking place down the valley.
Zac shifted. The nearest skirmishes were not far away. He’d paused in the tree, just on the outskirts of the action, to get a better look. Human forces were ranged throughout the area, an obvious effort to disperse their army so as not to be annihilated all at once by some sort of massive strike, which Zac had no doubt the Kel were capable of.
He looked further down the valley. Somehow the Kel, whom Jess and Nani thought were left behind in the other star system, had come after all. Somehow they were here. At Earth. Lots of them, from what the TV said—and from what little slice of the action Zac was witnessing here. Jess told him all about what they found in the Kel home system, about the modern Kel warship that tried to board them and how that system was likely the home of the ancient Kel. Reborn, apparently, and now … Now they’d found Earth. And as Zac had begun to piece these elements together he realized the arrival of the Kel must’ve happened sometime after he and Jess lost contact with the others. Which probably explained the disappearance of Satori and Willet. Surely they must’ve had to take the fighter and run. Nani too, he had to assume. And, with no way to contact Zac or Jess, they’d been left behind.
Which meant not only was Jess lost, but he was lost as well. No Nani, no Satori, no Willet. Just him, all alone on Jessica’s home world, in the middle of an alien invasion, no idea when he might reconnect with any of them.
No idea if any of them were even still alive.
He struggled to shove away the encroaching feelings of failure. The crushing reality that he, Zac, lost Jess and lost the others and now she was gone and everyone else was gone and he was alone and the circumstances could not have been more hopeless.
But there were people out here in the hills. Earth people—Jessica’s people—and from all indications they were in the midst of a fight for their lives. And so he’d made up his mind. He may have lost the ones he loved, but there were still people who needed him.
He dropped from the tree. This spot was as good as any. He knelt and shoveled a hole quickly with his hands, about half his height deep, ripping aside roots and shoving away rocks. Satisfied, he placed the Icon in the hole and buried it with a nicely packed mound. Then he stood, punched the tree in half and cracked it down the middle. That would make a fine marker. He pushed the two halves aside, bending them into a Y shape with great splintering pops as the live wood protested mightily. It was a tall tree. Bent into this odd shape it would be easy to find.
He finished and stood back. The Icon would be safe here. The Bok … they could wait for now. The Kel were invading and, from what Zac saw on the TVs in the little Spanish bar, Earth was about to be turned entirely upside down. In many ways it was already. Zac would have to rethink any plan he might’ve had. For now …
For now he could help.
Absently he rubbed the stubble of his short beard. It was definitely growing. His hair was getting longer. Overall he was changing, entering new territory for a Kazerai. So far, however, those changes seemed to be working in his favor. He regarded the split tree.
He was definitely getting stronger.
With one more quick study of the spot he turned and ran, a little closer to the nearest activity, the nearest human forces, sticking to the cover of the forest. Earlier, as he neared the scene—and especially after he saw his first overflight of Kel craft—he’d adjusted his leaps to keep himself below cover and, hopefully, out of their direct line of sight. A lone man flying through the air was sure to draw attention; closer to the ground he at least appeared harmless. Just one of the humans out here all alone, running for cover.
Up ahead he could hear the shouts of men. Armored units at the edge of a clearing, not yet engaged. He sprinted the last little bit; a small group near what looked to be a personnel carrier, a drab green wheeled vehicle, armed soldiers standing around discussing their limited options. Tension was palpable in the air and, as Zac ran up on them, he recognized American flags. It was the flag of Jessica’s home country, and he found himself relieved this first bunch of Earth soldiers he encountered would speak English.
Expectedly he startled them.
Guns came up, shouldered in a rush even as two stumbled and fell. Muffled curses accompanied the recoil. Their attention had been downrange, on the threat they were there to face. Aliens; Kel; advanced bad guys with unstoppable technology. The sudden, skidding appearance of a single, bare-chested man from the woods to their flank threw them all for a loop.
No one fired.
Now that Zac had a cleaner view he noticed a large cannon not far beyond their position. Artillery. Long, bracing legs extended behind it, barrel angled to the sky. Another just like it was in place further on around the curve of trees.
“Who the hell are you?” one of the soldiers demanded.
Zac turned his attention to the men.
“I’m Zac,” he said. “Tell your units to watch for me. Avoid me if they can. Tell them Zac is here and I’m going to fight.” Then, to the blank looks on their faces: “Don’t worry. It’s what I do.”
But their disbelief only grew.
“Who are you?”
He glanced at each of them.
“Someone who can help.”
And he leapt, no restraint this time, eager for the clash; high as he could, higher than he ever had, out to the field and soaring, hundreds of feet up and hundreds and hundreds more into the distance. Unleashed with a rush, surging with the thrill to be in action, to unbind the pent-up failure that had been crushing him; the result of that tremendous thrust an unexpected reminder of the true scale of power he contained. WHOOOA! Farther than he’d ever jumped and nearly flying.
It was incredible.
Today he would help. Today he would do everything he could to help the human’s of Earth, the soldiers defending Jessica’s world. Earth would not go quietly. Today he was more Kazerai than he’d ever been; Hand of God, and this was what he did, what he was made to do, and the Kel would remember this day.
Today he brought another army to the fight.
**
Galfar watched the sleeping girl. Jessica was getting stronger. Her rest by then was thorough, no longer fitful, and he was confident when she awoke she would be strong enough to make the journey.
For he was convinced he must take her.
Too many predictions had been and were falling into line. Too much of her own character rang true. It could no longer be denied. Here lay the savior of them all. Here lay the one that would restore the great Codex; the one that might bring back the light of understanding, the way to freedom for all. A young girl in form, unassuming; strong enough to end the darkness and the barbarism of their world. Of all worlds, wherever they might be in the heavens above.
She was here.
So pure, she was. So filled with power. So unlike the Other. During the night hope gave way to belief and, finally, as Galfar sat there now, watching her sleep, soft orange glow of the steady flames lighting the tranquility of her angelic face …
Conviction.
She must go.
And he would take her.
CHAPTER 19: ACCEPTING THE JOURNEY
Heath pointed with two fingers to his eyes, then with a single finger out away from him, in a direction off through the trees. His team fann
ed out behind him, choosing cover carefully among the widely spaced trunks of the Spanish woods. Heath had just spotted movement in the clearing ahead.
Pete came alongside, high-caliber sniper rifle in hand. They weren’t there to shoot anything unless they had to, and from what little Heath had seen so far they weren’t likely to do any good even if they did. Bullets weren’t seeming to have much effect against the alien armor. Heath looked over at his sniper; pointed again to what he’d seen. Pete went prone and slid across the ground to a clear line of sight. They’d skirted the first confrontations once they began and found their way gradually to this spot, far up near the front, looking for a way, any opportunity, to gain access to one of the fallen Kel.
So far none had gone down.
The aliens were using a combination of large machines, foot soldiers and overhead flights. Command channels were active, which was a good sign—at least all the Earth forces assembled had not yet been fully overrun—and reports were that the Kel now controlled the skies. Not an unexpected turn of events, but it was a strange feeling to be on the other side of that equation. On every other mission, no matter how far removed from civilization, no matter how seemingly far from any other form of support, help was never more than a phone call and a laser pointer away. As American operators Heath and his team had always had that final impunity. No matter how bad it got, they could paint a target and call down Holy Hell.
Not so here.
Which made for a distinctly creeping feeling. Despite being nestled in the woods, under cover, his team ranged all around him, Heath felt hugely exposed. And vastly alone.
Pete raised his rifle and peered through the scope. Heath raised small binoculars and did the same. A squad of Kel soldiers was making their way along the edge of the forest just ahead. In the clearing beyond two of the large Kel hover tanks hummed just above the ground, floating along on the hunt. Heath signaled his team to hold position and not move. As yet they did not know the extent of the Kel’s scanning and detection technology, but so far the aliens had been picking out human targets with relative ease. He watched nervously as the alien squad passed between breaks in the trees, attention on something much farther away, down the valley in the distance. Heath paced his breathing. The Kel were human sized, more or less, their armor black and dangerous looking; gold, reflective eye slits giving away no emotion. Heath knew what the Kel looked like under those helmets, from pictures; elf-looking men, but it was hard not to imagine them as regular humans stalking the fields in video-game armor.
Each of them had the same long tail of hair, either black or white, swinging high at the backs of their helmets. Like the ponytails were so important they had to make a way for the helmet to let them pass through. To Heath that was perhaps the weirdest thing of all.
Suddenly something fell hard from the sky, right behind the Kel, throwing up a wall of dirt that sprayed the squad of dark-armored figures. Heath dropped the binocs reflexively, noticing Pete had recoiled from his scope. Both put their eyes quickly back to the enhancers, just in time to see the object that had fallen was in fact what Heath first thought:
A man.
He made himself hold the binocs steady, made himself watch as the man—it’s a man!—dark-haired and wearing only a pair of ratty slacks, covered in grime and blood, killed every Kel they’d just been observing. A single instant, a flurry of action and they were dead. Only two of the aliens even managed to recognize the attack and get off a shot before they, too, went flying in broken sprays of armor and blood.
What the …
It was like a super hero just landed.
Heath felt his jaw slacken as he made himself keep watching, as the man now leapt in a single bound all the way to the nearest Kel hover tank, a machine for which they had no specs but which, based on size alone, Heath estimated had to weigh more than two of Earth’s main battle tanks and …
Smashed it.
Not sent it flying like the Hulk or something, but smashed a hole in the side and began ripping it apart—even as it whirred and turned and pointed its turret in vain, no way to defend against such an assault. The massive alien machine spun and maneuvered futilely as the uncanny Superman picked it apart with a flurry of blows that sent echoes of solid impact resounding across the valley. As if the tank were being beaten apart with mighty sledgehammers. In its final throes it seemed to be turning so one of its partners could get a shot at this deadly parasite, even if it meant suicide, only to fall with a solid WHUMP to the ground as its power source failed and it died.
And the man was in flight.
Like a human missile, launching himself off the side of that victim and straight for the next, using its mass to propel himself like a streak across the gap turning him into a skin-colored projectile and BOOOM! hard into the side of the other. He extricated himself from the entry hole and continued pounding, hammering that one to pieces just as surely.
Heath found himself watching through his own, unaided eyes, binoc hand having dropped away in disbelief somewhere during the action. He held the glasses loosely now. Looked over to Pete who was looking back at him like maybe Heath had an answer.
But Heath had nothing. All he could do was stare back. Pete’s eyes as wide as his own.
Wide, white circles against his camouflaged face.
**
Jess stepped across the room, explosions rocking the floor. She went to the archaic wooden door set against riveted green-iron walls. Beside it was the sleek, high-tech access panel.
As before she played things through, working in some subtle way to take control. To understand the significance of this memory-dream. The door was covered in complicated runes that, she was now convinced, were written in the same language as those from the Reaver.
The language of the Kel.
The battle outside rocked the walls. Gunfire. Another big blast and she steadied herself. She was dressed in the same armor, in one hand the long, curved sword of blued steel. It was she that held the sword. She that wore the armor. But, as every other time, she was not Jessica. Not a girl from Boise.
Carefully she approached the shiny access panel; bent to it as she did the last time she had the dream and studied her reflection closely.
Kel.
It was her own eyes she peered into. Brilliant, yellow, almond-shaped eyes, yellow like her reflection in the brass mirror in Galfar’s hut—she remembered being there, seeing the changes that had come over her in the real world—her dream face inhuman; elven, jaw and cheeks a collection of angular perfection, thin black lines tracing patterns around the left, a few more along the right, slightly pointed ears peeking from a wild tangle of shock-white hair. Youthful, possibly no older than she was as Jessica yet with that ancient, mage-like depth to her gaze. Inhumanly gorgeous. A pure, flawless being, beyond any human standard.
An angel.
She reeled a little as the absolute reality of the scene overwhelmed her, artificial as she knew it to be. As before sensations were too strong, too detailed. It was like being there. She seemed to be the size she was used to being, about as tall, about as heavy—she could feel her own mass; it was that real—but as normal as she felt it was not her in the dream. Not her looking back. It was, of course. It was her, only …
It wasn’t.
Not Jessica. Someone else, and yet …
Her.
Suddenly it hurt her head to be staring at that reflection through her own eyes. She stood and looked away. Carefully continued playing things through. The dream expanded.
Diffuse light came from the same unknown source. She scanned the complicated runes covering the door, feeling she could very nearly read them. The same battle as before took place outside, hammering the walls with pulsing blasts. Another hit and she steadied herself.
All was as it had been.
She took a big pull of the acrid air. Tactile feedback, the sword in her palm, the armor against her skin ... all of it, too real. She turned as the battle outside continued to intensify. The vib
rant edge to the dream did not fade.
“This way!” a male voice shouted from across the room. The one from before. She whirled.
Standing there was the man she recognized. Tall, pale skin like hers, an almost elven face complete with pointed ears and sharp, angular features. His shock-white hair was pulled high into a ponytail that swung from the back of his head.
He too was Kel. Perfection. A nearly androgynous handsomeness that caused her breath to catch in her throat.
“Come!” He held out a hand. He wore the same style armor as her, black ribbed and alien. “I’m not leaving you!”
His eyes were as bright yellow as her own, intense in their demand. She knew this man. Trusted him. Wanted to go with him but, as before, the panic came, surging, locked in that other reality, his voice calling to her. She overcame it and rushed to him. He took her free hand; looked deeply into her eyes and …
Opened the door.
Outside was a downpour. The cool mist of heavy rain wafted in. A battle raged and she saw at least some of the noise booming the air came from thunder. Lightning flashed in the gloomy sky as a fresh wave rumbled in. The tall man, the man she knew, the man she trusted, led her out and they stepped immediately to the side against the wall, rain drenching them. It was cold. Another sharp flash, a spike of white light and …
She awoke. Not a traumatic ending, as had been the last, but for an instant she could feel the sensation of the heavy rain washing over her. She shivered under light covers, recognizing the cot in Galfar’s hut.
She’d slept more. Maybe lots more. Clearly she needed it.
The setting began to impinge.
A bird of some sort chirped loudly outside the window, sounding like it came from a perch on the roof or somewhere else high and nearby. There was a faint melody to it, and it kind of warbled toward something musical, even pleasing, then lapsed to what could only be described as a noisy shriek.
Star Angel: Rising (Star Angel Book 4) Page 19