Dawn of Chrysalis (The Origin of F.O.R.C.E. Book 2)

by Sam B Miller II

  Understanding Harrier's hand motions, Beullah telepathed his orders to the older male and female Chrysallamans. Shaking her head and frowning, the female Chrysallaman was just about to cross her arms in defiance when a red beam of death diagonally bisected her body, killing her gruesomely. The male Chrysallaman knelt over the remains of his companion, tears of grief flowing down his cheeks. Feeling the barrel of Harrier's pistol poking the back of his head, the male Chrysallaman turned and with a look of pure hatred in his eyes, nodded resignedly.

  "Excellent," Harrier said.

  Chapter 20 - Resistance

  The tunnel maze seemed never-ending, and while the Chrysallamans showed no outward signs of being bothered by the confining stone passageways, Doug, Becky, Miguel and Princess Peregrine were not enjoying the experience. The constant darkness and cloying humidity was making them feel depressed and sluggish.

  After entering the tunnels through the alcove entrance, they'd traversed over a mile of twisting corridors, ramps and circular stairways. Twice they'd encountered a dead end with no apparent exit. Each time Cherree pushed a stone near the bottom of a side wall embedded with a glowing telepathic token shaped like a tiny circle with a dotted outline. Moments later a doorway would grate open in the side wall permitting them to continue their trek.

  Just as the psychological stress of feeling trapped in never ending, dark, dank passageways was becoming unbearable for Doug and his friends, they came upon a fifth dead end. A glowing telepathic token that looked like a cellphone touchpad was set in the left-hand side of the wall. Cherree punched in a seven-digit code and with a growling scrape of stone on stone, a doorway swung open toward them. Beyond was a brightly lit room which Cherree entered with confidence. After a moment of hesitation, the others followed her with the Princess and Miguel bringing up the rear. The thick stone doorway grated shut.

  The words and tone of the next person they heard weren't welcoming.

  "What the hell is this Cherree?" a gravelly telepathic voice demanded.

  "Give me a moment General Dunnbull," Cherree answered.

  Blinking their eyes to adjust to the bright overhead lights, Doug, Becky and Miguel saw they were in a rectangular room painted light green. The walls were filmed with dirt and grease smeared and smudged over the years by countless reptilian hands. Four Chrysallaman males holding cutter ray pistols surrounded them. An elderly Chrysallaman female sat on a stone bench near some metal racks that held cardboard boxes, miscellaneous brushes, scrapers and bottles. A collection of mops and brooms leaned against a corner in the room combined with the smell of antiseptics could only mean one thing. They were in what passed for a Chrysallaman custodial closet.

  Cherree walked over and sat on the stone bench. The older female had to be at least 90 years old. The pupils of her black eyes were ringed with a light yellowish gray, and the corners of her mouth were deeply wrinkled. A well-worn tri-footed walking cane stood next to her, and she kept one hand on it as if she was afraid it would tip over.

  Hoping for some flicker of understanding as the older female glared at her, Cherree said, "Mom. I know this looks strange but there was more going on in the torture chamber than simple questioning of prisoners."

  "Cherree Brookkss. I can't believe you'd put us all in such danger! For Heaven's sake, the Princess?"

  "Brookkss?" Whatsit asked.

  "Silence!" commanded the Chrysallaman who Cherree had called General Dunnbull.

  The General was 6 feet 4 inches tall. His skin was the darkest green color the humans had ever seen on a Chrysallaman. His standard combat vest was studded with many military badges and campaign ribbons. A Chrysallaman starburst medal dangled from a bright yellow cord tied around his neck. The other three Chrysallaman soldiers wore undecorated combat vests and held their weapons with a confidence indicating they were experienced commandos.

  Whatsit turned his head toward Dunnbull and looked him up and down as if he was deciding whether the lizard was worth any attention. Deciding he didn't care for the Christmas decoration look, Whatsit frowned. The General didn't like the disrespect.

  "I haven't given you permission to look me in the eyes. Bow your head in due respect to your superior," Dunnbull growled.

  "Uh-oh," GooYee muttered.

  Cherree interrupted as she recognized a fight brewing.

  "General, Whatsit isn't from Chrysalis. He doesn't understand our protocols."

  "Well he better learn if he wants to remain on my good side." Shifting his gaze to Whatsit, he said, "I'll accept your apology now."

  "Stuuuppidd," GooYee muttered again as he backed away from the eye of the gathering storm.

  Bemused by the General's ridiculous demand, Whatsit turned toward Doug and Becky and with a half-smile said, "I've decided Becky is correct. They obviously start teaching flaming egotism to these Chrysallamans at an early age. I'd guess the Dumbass indoctrination began in kindergarten."

  Doug and Becky tried without success to stifle their reaction, but the best they could manage was choking back laughter. The poor attempts at hiding their amusement didn't go unnoticed.

  "How dare you insult the Supreme Leader of the Resistance," exclaimed one of the Chrysallaman soldiers.

  "You mean Fearless Leader don't you Natasha?" Becky answered in a bad German accent. It was now Whatsit's turn to snicker as he caught the veiled reference to one of his favorite Saturday morning cartoon shows, 'Rocky and Bullwinkle'.

  Incensed by the lack of respect from lower animal life forms and the oddly dressed Chrysallaman, General Dunnbull pointed at Whatsit and ordered, "I think a lesson in humility is warranted, Private Rakkrr. Please educate this hooligan."

  Miguel leaned over and whispered enthusiastically in Carolyn's ear, "You don't want to miss what happens next."

  Completely stunned by the odd way the Humans and Whatsit reacted to danger, Carolyn stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. There was now no doubt in her mind Whatsit and his companions were insane. Instead of avoiding danger, they ran toward it at full speed. Despite her reservations, Carolyn made no effort to separate from Miguel. She was feeling cold from their time in the dark passageways, and his body was pleasantly warm. He smelled good too.

  Private Ezzcobar Rakkrr was a brutish looking Chrysallaman. His brow bulged over his eyes and his forehead sloped backwards to a smaller than normal skull giving him a Neanderthal look. His arms were long and his chest heavily muscled. His legs were short in comparison to the rest of his torso, but he still stood 6 feet 5 inches tall. If Ezzcobar Rakkrr had been Human and not a native Chrysallaman, you might've guessed his appearance was the result of a bad gene pool and steroid use over a long period of time.

  Removing his combat vest and laying his ray pistol aside, Rakkrr swung his arms and flexed his hands. It was apparent he'd easily won past fights and didn't feel the least intimidated by the green coated Chrysallaman wearing the odd wide-brimmed hat. Stepping forward in a fighting stance, Rakkrr raised his hands to chest level with his fingers shaped like claws aimed at Whatsit. Rolling his head so his neck bones popped and cracked like he was a bad-guy in a poorly written B-movie, Rakkrr waited for Whatsit to approach.

  Whatsit was a half head shorter than Rakkrr and had at least a fifty pound weight disadvantage. The evil chuckles from the other Chrysallaman soldiers made it clear they'd seen Rakkrr easily defeat other opponents with bone crushing strength and merciless fists.

  Whatsit lifted his sombrero off his head and let it hang on his back by its leather draw cord. When he did this, his Chrysallaman skull tie clasp centered itself under his chin. Moving to within three feet of the towering brute, Whatsit adopted a stance that would have made Bruce Lee proud. He even rolled and undulated his feet just as he'd seen Bruce Lee do in preparation for a karate fight in the movie 'Enter the Dragon'. Narrowing his eyes and cocking his head to the right, Whatsit motioned with his left hand for Rakkrr to come nearer.

  Rakkrr grinned with wicked greed as his eyes flicked to the Chrysallaman skull tie c
lasp with its diamond faceted eyes. He'd drop this Chrysallaman with his fists and take the jeweled tie clasp as a souvenir. He hadn't been ordered to let the lizard live and killing him would be most satisfying. The fight lasted all of 45 seconds.

  Without warning, Rakkrr stepped forward and drove his left fist in a mighty jab straight at Whatsit's chin. The jab was fast like a striking snake. As his left jab was on its way, Rakkrr swung his right shoulder forward and threw a haymaker at Whatsit's left eye. There was no doubt in Rakkrr's mind that one if not both blows would impact solidly and break bones in the Chrysallaman's face.

  Defending against the jab with his right forearm, Whatsit stepped in close to the big lizard. Bringing his left arm up strongly to block Rakkrr's right hand punch, he swiveled his right hip forward and simultaneously drove the bottom of his right palm into the point of Rakkrr's chin with all the strength he could muster. The power of the blow staggered the brute, and as his jaw snapped shut, one of his front teeth chipped. Stumbling back two steps, Rakkrr heard the click of his broken tooth as it bounced on the stone floor. Rakkrr was sure he heard a high pitched telepathic scream 'Haaa Ja' when Whatsit's blow struck home.

  "What the hell?" Rakkrr thought.

  Shaking his head to clear the effects of the unexpected punch to his chin, Rakkrr became wary. He'd never been jolted by an opponent before. His tongue licked against the rough place where his front tooth had broken off, and anger raised his blood pressure. This was a new and unwelcome experience. Reaching to the small of his back with his left hand, Rakkrr drew his combat knife from its hidden sheath.

  Princess Peregrine covered her mouth and choked back a scream when she saw the knife. This was not going to end well for the Chrysallaman named Whatsit, and she couldn't understand why Miguel appeared so unconcerned. His only reaction so far was a reassuring squeeze.

  Whatsit's eyes narrowed as he watched Rakkrr bring the doubled edged combat knife into view. The black blade was six inches long and appeared razor sharp. It was obvious from the way Rakkrr handled the knife he was skilled in its use as a killing weapon. Any thoughts of going easy on the thug evaporated from Whatsit's mind.

  Rakkrr shifted his stance, and a sly smile curled his lip as he saw Whatsit's eyes focus on the knife. Circling to the right, he inched toward Whatsit looking for an opportunity to strike. He kept hearing faint telepathic murmurs coming from Whatsit that sounded like he was purring every time he shifted his body.

  "Ooooh waaaa."

  The noise was distracting. Trying to draw the lizard into opening up his defenses, Rakkrr jabbed left-handed with the knife to draw Whatsit's attention. As the knife flashed toward the lizard's chest, Rakkrr twirled his body to the right and swung a powerful round house punch with his right fist at Whatsit's head. The speed of the move was blinding.

  With his attention focused on the knife, Whatsit didn't notice the fist until it struck him in the side of his face. The impact cut his lip and threatened to revolve his head. It was fortunate Whatsit had sparred with fully activated Humans like Tom and McPherson. Muscles and sinews strengthened by countless bouts with ultra-strong opponents paid off. Instead of a broken jaw, Whatsit's head twisted from the blow. Refocusing his eyes on the grinning Rakkrr, Whatsit wiped the blood off his cut lip, tasted it and smiled.

  "Time to end this scuffle," Whatsit decided as he began shuffling his feet like a dancer.

  Rakkrr was astonished. The round house blow was one of his best and strongest moves. No past opponent had survived the powerful impact; yet this upstart only seemed annoyed.

  "And what was this dancing move?" he thought.

  Deciding he needed to end the fight, Rakkrr inched toward the lizard and flipped the blade from his left to his right hand. The move was fast and designed to draw attention. Just as the knife landed in his right hand, Rakkrr plunged forward and sliced to his left. As his body gathered momentum, he swung his right leg up in a powerful round house kick. The move was practiced and lightning fast.

  Employing a tactic he'd seen Bruce Lee use in a fight scene with Chuck Norris, Whatsit avoided the blade with a quick sidestep, dropped low and swept his left leg against Rakkrr's planted foot. With his right leg high in the air kicking through the empty space where Whatsit's head had been and his left leg knocked out from under him, Rakkrr fell to the floor. An audible bony crack echoed across the room as Rakkrr's tail bone broke upon impact with the unforgiving stones. The heavy fall knocked the knife from Rakkrr's hand, and it clattered out of reach as Whatsit kicked it away.

  Struggling to his feet, thoroughly embarrassed and slit-eyed with anger, Rakkrr did the only thing his pain numbed brain could think to do. Spreading his arms wide, he rushed Whatsit like a maddened bull, intent on spearing the odd Chrysallaman and driving him back into the stone wall. Whatsit saw the bum rush coming.

  Instead of fighting the strength and weight of his opponent, he fell backward in a roll while simultaneously grabbing the wrists of Rakkrr's outstretched arms. As he rolled, he brought his legs up into Rakkrr's stomach and at just the right moment, straightened his knees. Rakkrr's momentum worked against him. Instead of smashing into Whatsit as intended, Rakkrr found himself flying through the air in a somersault. The last thing he remembered hearing before his head hit the stone floor and he blacked out was 'Ja Baaa'.

  45 seconds.

  Standing up and looking back at the unconscious bully, Whatsit pulled his sombrero around where he could see it, dusted it off, made sure it didn't have any crumpled places in its crown and placed it on his head. Bending down, he picked up the broken tooth, looked at it like he was examining a diamond and then slipped it into his coat pocket.

  Turning his attention back to Dunnbull, Whatsit said, "I didn't mean to hurt him General Dumbass. I assumed he was one of your best and knew how to fight. If I'd known he was such a novice, I might've tried to be a little gentler with him."

  Dunnbull was speechless, but he wasn't a fool. His rise to power in the Rebel Underground was the result of intellect, cunning and no little amount of paranoia. Dunnbull used everyone and everything to further his ambitions, and this odd Chrysallaman named Whatsit was unpredictable and had to be controlled or killed. He decided controlling the lizard wasn't possible.

  "You are well skilled, Mr. Whatsit," Dunnbull said. "However, you're insubordinate and dangerous. The fact that one of your companions is the murderous Asiddian Princess is proof of your treachery."

  "Oh my. Dumbass he is," GooYee whispered under his breath as he inched behind Doug and Becky.

  Leveling his cutter ray pistol at Whatsit, Dunnbull ordered, "Men, eliminate this Chrysallaman and all his pet animals. Don't harm the Princess. Her recorded screams as we torture her may weaken the resolve of the Asiddian invaders."

  Doug had heard enough. He was through being patient and playing nice with the Chrysallaman Rebel Underground.

  Holding up his right hand for dramatic effect, he said in a deep telepathic voice, "Hold!"

  As commanded, every voluntary muscle in the General and his men froze. As the sheer power of Doug's mind control swept over the Chrysallamans like a hot wind blowing across Death Valley, drool leaked from the corners of their mouths.

  ***

  While Doug, Becky and Miguel restrained the General and his men with hand cuffs they found in a soldier's belt pouch, Whatsit walked over to the stone bench and dropped to one knee in front of the old Chrysallaman female.

  "Would you mind if I sat next to you? I have a few questions."

  Startled by Whatsit's calm demeanor and polite request, the old woman simply nodded her head. Just moments ago she'd witnessed this odd Chrysallaman defeat General Dunnbull's most ruthless soldier in a fight to the death; yet now he was a picture of tranquility. Her curiosity had to be satisfied.

  Motioning to Cherree to make room for him to sit down next to the old Chrysallaman she'd called Mom, Whatsit said, "My name is Whatsit. What's your name?"

  "Helleen Brookkss."

  "May I ask ho
w old you are?"

  "90."

  "I'm sorry to be so personal, but how many children do you have?"

  Tears welled up in Helleen's eyes as she considered her answer. Dabbing at her cheeks with a cloth she pulled from a pocket in her robe, she smiled wistfully and replied, "I have two daughters. My oldest was forty when Emperor Horcunt enslaved her and fled from the invading horde of Asiddians. I don't know what happened to her. Horcunt's escape was over thirty years ago. There's no telling where she is or what her fate might be."

  Ignoring the distracted look in Whatsit's eyes, Helleen inclined her head toward Cherree and said, "My youngest daughter, Cherree, was 10 years old when the Asiddians invaded. She grew up hiding with the rebel resistance in the secret tunnels built within the Royal Palace. Her wisdom and faithfulness earned her an advisory position with the Inner Circle of the Resistance."