Star Angel: Rising (Star Angel Book 4)

by David G. McDaniel

  Lorenzo flopped into an overstuffed chair, grinning. He and the few that went with him to meet the Kel leaders had returned, following an extended stay aboard the Kel flagship and a discussion of, according to him, the ways in which the relationship with the Bok was to unfold. Not least significant of which being the fact that, indeed, after much negotiation, the Bok were to be put in charge of humanity. Hansel had not gone on that junket. He had no way to verify any of it, but neither was there any reason for them to lie. Not about this. According to Lorenzo all would be put in order in due time. In the meantime they celebrated.

  “I can’t believe how easily they were manipulated,” Lorenzo slurred a little, about to repeat what Hansel had already heard twice, “I knew they would know of the Prophecy and, more than that, that they would fear it.” Hansel had been following Lorenzo around the massive house for hours, watching as the lot of them got high. “But the way in which they’ve responded to our promises ...”

  One of them raised a glass, looked up and fairly shouted: “First provisional rulers of Earth!”

  Lorenzo laughed.

  “Can you believe it?! The whole world!

  “Never been done.”

  They practically howled.

  One of the New Breed, Celia, sat across from Lorenzo, a mildly questioning look on her face. She seemed a little less delirious than the rest.

  “But you’ve insisted all along,” she said, “that the girl is not the one predicted. You said she’s not the herald. And yet you insisted to the Kel that she was—”

  “It doesn’t matter, Celia,” Lorenzo waved his nearly empty glass at her, looking like a man who wanted to hear nothing that might cause his buzz to suffer. “It doesn’t matter. It suits our purpose. The Kel want to snuff the Prophecy—real or not—and yet secretly they want what it promises. Or at least their queen does.” At that he chuckled, then snapped his focus back to the Bok girl. “And that’s all that matters.” He spoke so all could hear: “As long as they fear it, as long as they believe it, as long as we hold information they desire, that’s all that matters. I guessed their motivation, and now, thank you very much, they’re handing us the world.”

  That statement was greeted with a few more whoops and the chink of glasses.

  “But we don’t know where to find her!” a new voice interrupted the reverie. Hansel turned. It was Torvald, one of the Old Guard. “We don’t know any of what you’ve promised them!” He stood in the doorway, an older, stern outsider, at the fringes of the festival of youth. Very few of the older Bok were present at the mansion, and those that were had been suffered grudgingly. “How long will that last? And what will be our fate when they discover our lies?”

  Torvald did not look amused.

  “That is for another day!” Lorenzo shouted. It was no secret he wanted the Old Guard gone. All those like Torvald, the last generation of Bok. Wanted them out of the way so his New Breed could rule without question. With this latest turn of events that seemed more imminent than ever. Still, for now the Old Guard held their place. Lorenzo forced a laugh.

  Torvald gaped. “Are you insane?!”

  Lorenzo stood at once, snapping to his feet from his lounging position. But he took no steps. The room fell silent with the exchange.

  Torvald stepped across the threshold. Pushing the issue. Treading in dangerous waters.

  “Another day?” He advanced. “Are you a complete fool? This is a race of aliens that just destroyed our entire military in a matter of days. They’re here to invade, to make us slaves. They own this world! They own us! What the hell are you celebrating?” He looked around the room with that same expression of disbelief. “Would you tell me that?”

  “Careful, Torvald,” Lorenzo warned, voice like ice. Then: “You know as I do we have archives. Great tomes we ourselves know little about. Dusty, useless. Until now. For all we know they describe where the device went. The Kel will understand them. We will give these to them gladly. That is their gift. That is what they gain, and for that they give us the world.”

  Torvald stared at him. Then around the room. “You’re all idiots,” he said, and Hansel cringed. Torvald was making a stand. The old man shook his head. “I don’t know where we went wrong. I look back and … I don’t know exactly where it happened. Maybe there wasn’t one single moment. All I know is that we’ve made a huge mistake. And now it’s too late. You’re about to be handed the world, on a platter, as you’ve always wanted—as you’ve somehow always believed was your right—and you’ll bring it to ruin, same as everything. Humanity, the Bok … all of it.

  “There are only two possible outcomes for you,” he told them all. “Either you become Kel slaves, doing exactly and only what they say, figureheads, go-betweens for our alien conquerors and the dregs of Earth’s population. Or they kill you for your lies. That’s all you have to look forward to.” He shook his head. Then, and Hansel got the idea he really meant his next words: “There is no victory to celebrate here. This is a sad day.”

  Lorenzo stared across the room at him in the ensuing silence. “Sad indeed,” he said. “Because for you there is only one possible outcome.”

  And in that blink of an eye, that instant between instants when Torvald and everyone else got Lorenzo’s intent, Torvald moved. Only a fraction, nowhere near fast enough, but Hansel admired him for even getting that far; for sensing Lorenzo was about to kill him and being quick enough to attempt something, anything, even though it failed. Somewhere in that same instant Lorenzo’s arm snapped straight and the champagne glass flew from his hand. At least it must have, as it was now a fragmenting mass of sparkling slivers against Torvald’s throat, shredding skin in a bloody spray. The old man continued in the direction he’d been attempting to dodge, eyes wide, gagging and gurgling as he fell, hands going for his bleeding neck but never making it. He dropped; dead as he thumped against the floor like a sack of meat.

  Before the shock in the room took hold Lorenzo wound up both arms and threw them out again, this time sending a rippling wave through the air that made Hansel’s hair stand on end … WHOOSH! and Torvald’s body slid across the floor. Like a punch from a battering ram, limbs dragging, skin squeaking against the polished wood in protest, out the door and into the hall beyond. A messy streak of blood and glass trailed him, pooling around his neck and head.

  No one moved.

  Lorenzo was already turning to look for another glass of champagne.

  As he did he glanced toward the dead Torvald. “Clean that up,” he instructed.

  Hansel stared at the crumpled mess that was Torvald’s inert form, then around the room at all the Bok. Their young, insolent faces stared back. Glasses in hand, waiting to resume the celebration. One of them gave a little chuckle.

  And Hansel realized Lorenzo meant him.

  **

  “Good, you’re here,” Zac walked into Lindin’s office, finding him seated behind his desk. It was late.

  “I’m always here,” Lindin looked immediately annoyed, and, almost as soon as that expression settled, slightly worried.

  “We need to talk.” Zac glanced at Willet, who’d come with him, curious at what was going on, having followed him from the break room with little explanation.

  Lindin pushed back from what he was doing. Reading paperwork, near as Zac could tell.

  Zac came closer to the desk. “It’s important.”

  “Of course. Why else would you barge in here in the middle of the night.”

  Zac thought to apologize but decided instead to get right to the point.

  “We’re going to rescue Satori.” In his peripheral vision he saw Willet staring at him. He kept his focus on Lindin. Lindin may have been awake but he wasn’t totally alert. Zac was. Zac always was, and he could see the Intelligence chief becoming more so as the implications of that statement settled. As a little adrenaline started to surge.

  A little fear to go with the annoyance and the worry.

  Lindin leaned forward. “I thought you sa
id she was captured, or killed, by the Kel on Earth.” Now the intelligence chief was totally awake. “Oh, no,” he shook his head, much too vigorously. “You’re not taking the ship and going back there. Your little friend, Nani, has everyone in a fit and it’s all I can do to keep them from agreeing to something we’ll all regret. That ship is staying right here until all this other shit is sorted out. Even then.”

  “Not the ship.”

  “Damn right not the ship.”

  “The Icon.”

  Lindin stared at him blankly.

  “I know you have it.”

  Suddenly Lindin’s mind was racing. Zac could almost see the wheels in there getting up to speed, changing direction, looking for a defense against this new threat.

  “The original Icon,” Zac elaborated. “You have it. It’s here. We want it.”

  Lindin managed to maintain the same blank stare, expertly, Zac noted, even as behind his eyes he scrambled for a way out.

  But there wasn’t one.

  “You don’t need it and you know it,” Zac pushed. “All that info is recorded in a dozen different places and Nani’s working out a way to make more. You know she’ll figure it out. Plus you’ve got a starship out there that can go much easier than hanging onto a little piece of metal.”

  Lindin stammered, “That’s not the point.”

  “It is the point. It is the point because that means there’s no reason not to let us use it. Willet and I are going back to Earth and we’re going to rescue Satori.” Now he spared a glance in Willet’s direction. This news was as shocking for Willet as it was for Lindin, albeit in much different ways.

  It was late. Emotions were running high. Under other circumstances Lindin might’ve had a reasoned response, toughly worded objections or other ways to argue, to not give up the Icon, but right then, right there, he had very little intelligent thought left. Zac watched his resistance degenerate to something like that of a child, pounding the sand in frustration.

  “So wait till Nani can make you one! Why do you even need it?”

  “There’s no time,” said Zac. “We’re not waiting.” Again he noticed Willet, scrambling as was Lindin, trying to understand what this meant. “Too much time has passed already.”

  “But it’s the last one!” Lindin almost whined. “The only one! You know how hard we worked to get this!”

  Zac had no sympathy. “I know?” he looked at Lindin in disbelief. “I know? Did you forget I lost my wife over it? I was the one that stole that Icon in the first place!” Zac reined in his own emotion. “You wouldn’t have it at all if it weren’t for me.”

  Lindin was undeterred. “You lose this one and they’re all gone!”

  “So.”

  “Why is there no time?! Why?!”

  “Give it to us.”

  “No!”

  Lindin glared at him. The red in his tired eyes had become more pronounced. It almost made it look like he was about to cry.

  “You don’t need it,” said Zac. “Nani doesn’t need it. She has all the specs. She’s already started working on making the ones we’ll use. You know that. There’s no time to distract her and no time to wait and you can’t deny us just because you want to sit on your little treasure so no one else can have it.” In a moment of reason Zac decided to ease his attack. “Listen,” he said. “You may not think so but I understand. I do. In my own way I understand. If I didn’t have a very real, very useful need for it I wouldn’t be here asking. But I do, and the fact is you can part with it.”

  Lindin went in a different direction. “How are you even supposed to rescue her? Aren’t the Kel aboard spaceships? This thing drops out over Jessica’s house. This makes no sense!”

  Zac gave the air a moment to calm. “You and I are allies,” he said. “On the same side. I dare say friends. I like you, Lindin, and I will never do anything to hurt you. Believe me. I will not hurt you. But also believe this: if you don’t give me the Icon I will do what I must to find it. And I will find it.” He put his hands on his hips. “I’m going back, with or without your blessing.”

  Lindin’s lips pinched together. The tears came closer to reality. For a fleeting instant he was utterly defeated and almost bawled, but he pushed aside that reaction.

  Instead he inhaled deeply, slowly accepting the reality that he had no choice.

  He looked at both Willet and Zac, but especially Zac.

  “You guys are going to be the death of me.”

  **

  They were making progress. At least that’s what the experts were saying. Heath sat with Steve, off to the side in the cramped safe house, staying out of everyone’s way, idly cleaning his pistol. He looked down at the slide as he wiped an oily rag across it. Habit, really. Something to do. He didn’t expect he’d find the gun very useful against the Kel, if it came to that, but for now the clock ticked slowly. He needed to stay occupied. He looked over at Steve, who sat with him on the floor, leaning against the wall.

  “Anything else?”

  Steve shrugged. “Sorry. Haven’t been listening for a while.”

  The room was a low buzz of conversations, lots of clicking, typing, some shuffling of papers or sliding around of maps on tables. Off and on Steve had been zeroing in on various discussions, seeing what he could glean. Heath could hear them too, of course, but he’d chosen not to try and make sense of the details. Steve was much better at that. Overall the important people seemed to be finding useful nuggets, little tidbits, piecing things together. Heath knew they were still in contact with other places, other safe houses like this one, and he hoped a bigger picture was starting to unfold.

  Anything to give them a way to strike back.

  “Seems like they may try to move some of this to China.” Steve rolled his head and cracked his neck. Laid it back against the wall.

  “China?”

  “Unit 61398, their hacker elite, seems to have made some breakthroughs. Fang’s guys. At least that’s what it’s sounding like. Some of what we found is apparently of great interest and they’d like to get it to them directly.”

  Heath shook his head. “Good luck with that.”

  Steve put his attention back out on the room. Heath did too, putting the pistol in its holster and slowly putting away the rag.

  “What we need is that super dude,” Steve said absently. Heath looked over at him. No one had really said much about some of the things that went on out there, most specifically the dark-haired Superman clone and what he’d done to the Kel. It was a small impact but someone like him would, indeed, prove useful. He was gone though, and no one knew any more about him. The yellow demon that had nearly defeated him was still on a rampage, that much they did know, ending up all the way at the core of Madrid, at least from the latest reports. Those reports were spotty, though, and not entirely relevant to their cell’s course of action.

  Heath looked back out to the busy room. “Hope I live long enough to hear even half of what we’ve seen explained.”

  The Major and Pete and a few other operators were on patrol, keeping an eye out around the area. No one knew if that was actually a good idea or not. What were they going to do if they saw Kel coming? Fight them off? Warn the others? Where were the others supposed to run? It seemed smarter for everyone to just stay low, but there was that ingrained training—and perhaps even that human instinct—to stay sharp, to keep eyes out, and so they’d been alternating moving about the small town, checking for what they could. So far all was quiet.

  Of course it is, thought Heath. The war was over. That fast. The Kel had won and now everyone was just waiting. He wasn’t the only one sitting around biding his time, he was sure. The whole planet wanted to know what came next. Apparently the Kel had leadership ideas in mind and a new order, though as yet … nothing. Just a bunch of countries with no military to speak of but everything else mostly still the way it was and lots of time to ponder.

  The future could not have been more uncertain.

  **

  Cee
could not stop thinking what this meant. Wanting so badly to rush off in this new direction, toward this greater promise—unable to do so due to the very barriers she herself had fostered throughout her rule. How could she possibly have foreseen this? She could not have. And so she was stuck trying to find a way through, a victim of her own restrictions. Sitting there even then, plotting ways to circumvent her own laws.

  So far all she could think of was to mask her actions. To somehow hide them within the expected. Everyone would look to her to root out any blasphemous knowledge possessed by the ancient Bok, to expose the heresy wherever it might be found. Perhaps in doing this very thing she might, in concert with it, channel those discoveries directly to her control. Such that she alone might siphon the most valuable items for her own exploration. If she could corner the herald, if she could obtain the Amkradus …

  Her communicator beeped. It was Voltan.

  “My queen.” His familiar image sprang to life on the large screen, deep within her private quarters aboard her personal dreadnought. Suddenly she realized she had no idea how long she’d been sitting there agonizing over this frustrating dilemma. Voltan was aboard his own dreadnought, holding orbit with the fleet near hers, poised high above the Earth.

  “Yes?” She pulled herself straighter. Her private room was large and she sat in a throne much like the one in her citadel back home, everything well furnished, a giant bed in one corner along with all the amenities. By all rights it was as opulent as any palace. The only difference being that it sat at the heart of one of the Kel’s mightiest warships. Her flagship.

  “Kang has stopped his rampage,” said Voltan. “He has taken up residence in the city known as Madrid.”

  Cee leaned a little to the side.

  “The more troubling news is that he has announced himself as ruler of the world.”

  At that she leaned forward.