Star Angel: Prophecy

by David G. McDaniel

  That was, until the whoop.

  “Ah yeah!”

  It was cut quickly by another voice: “Pete! Christ.”

  “Come on,” said another. “Dude. Let them have their moment.”

  Jess and Zac separated, faces close. Together they looked to the side. A guy in field gear was grinning at them, a soldier, and in that moment Jess noticed just how many people were there. Soldiers; other, harried looking men and women. Civilians. Other uniforms. Quite a few.

  All looking at she and Zac.

  “Sorry Mister Zac, sir,” the guy, presumably the one named Pete, held up his hands. “Don’t be mad. Ok?”

  “That’s Pete,” Zac confirmed.

  Pete smiled. “Never mind me with your little kissy kissy.” He made kissy faces to go with. “You two go right ahead.”

  One of the others standing next to him punched him.

  “Shut up,” the guy warned and Pete grabbed his shoulder in mock pain. “Just stop being a goob. It isn’t hard.”

  Everyone kind of looked at him, and as the moment dissolved Jess turned the other way, looking for …

  Willet.

  She released Zac and ran to him.

  “You’re ok!” she crashed into him, same as with Zac, and squeezed him just as hard. Willet, smiling ear to ear, caught her and hugged her back.

  She released him and looked up, so happy to see him, whole and smiling and unharmed. There were no words, honestly, and so neither spoke, and as he looked down, a huge grin on his face, she felt her own smile stretching the corners of her cheeks until it hurt. You made it! Willet’s smile was amazing. It was like, it made any tension you were feeling go away. No matter what. Every time he flashed it she was reminded none of this could be taken too seriously. Nothing could. As deadly as it all was, as much as was on the line, the worst thing you could do was treat it that way. Sometimes you just had to give it a grin, and for that …

  Willet was a master.

  Filled with the happiness of the moment, for the first time since entering the room she took a full look around. She knew Drake was there and found him, kind of removed and a little off to the side. Though they’d never officially met, she and the ex-Project head had a deep history. One that had changed all their lives. In fact, in a bizarre way, he and his group, not just her, were responsible for the invasion. It was the Project that drove her back to Anitra, which set in motion events leading to now. Though, as it turned out, that was all part of her manifest destiny. Her own drive to reach forward into the future, to take the next step on a hidden, personal quest to realize the things she’d failed to achieve so long ago.

  Absently she wondered if Drake would be able to swallow any of the truth of her existence and that fantastic past.

  Not that she would ever tell him.

  Introductions to the larger group were made, some asking about her eyes, and she knew by then that their color was dramatic enough to draw questions even from strangers, and she said something offhand and kept the conversation moving. Explanations were given for some of the things they were up to, after which she and Zac stepped aside with the core “thinkers”, the brain-trust for this little resistance cell, unable to keep their gaze from each other, holding hands as the group dove directly and without delay or preamble into the plan they’d been making. She found herself intrigued as they laid it out, outlining their intended subterfuge, a way to bring down and get aboard one of the Kel landers, use the lander to go aboard one of the Kel capital ships and, the real objective, plant a Trojan. A masterful bit of code which was being developed right there in that room. The thought of it was quite amazing, and they were set to make it happen.

  Jess, in turn, filled them in on the latest from Anitra, things that had developed even since Willet and Zac left, progress, and how they would attempt to connect with any remaining resistance on Earth—elements like Drake’s group a prime example—and engage any remaining assets. Drake had already been talking to Willet and Zac about what they knew of the planned Anitran offensive, believing the Trojan being developed by his team would provide extra access to Kel command and control. If the operation they were planning could successfully plant it there was no telling how Nani might use such a hack to wreak additional havoc.

  For the moment Jess was able to get away with saying little of why she’d come, or what exactly she was doing at the farm—though she managed, through their discussions, to learn the Project had not been responsible for the emptying of the vault and the removal of the Bok archives. In fact Drake and his team suspected it was the Bok themselves, sometime before the invasion took hold. Apparently the Bok sent for the contents of the vault during the confusion and the Project had no idea where they’d been taken. Drake sent his own team into the aftermath, to keep an eye and maintain cover, but so far nothing. Jess had been the first to come along since that time.

  No matter. At that point she knew what she had to do. Knew what she probably had to do all along, fresh epiphanies hitting her over the last days, fresh recalls confirming. For there was one definite place the information she needed would reside, and truthfully that had always been her destiny.

  The Bok themselves.

  Other clues might not be needed at all.

  That adventure, and how to make it happen, would involve she knew not what, but this group here had ways to move and, already, looking around at the energy in play, the knowledge among them, the exploited connections, she was confident ending up there was the best thing that could’ve happened. If anyone on the compromised Earth could help facilitate a connection to where she needed to go, if anyone could provide knowledge and resources, it was these guys.

  Drake’s group was working up the details of their own planned escapade, but the one thing on which everyone agreed was that they needed to act soon.

  So did she.

  Time was on no one’s side.

  At some point, as people began moving in and out of the conversation, she found herself alone with Drake. Just the two of them, though others were close, the place a hubbub of discussions. For the moment Zac was reluctantly across the room, helping with something else, and though she sought this moment with Drake she could scarcely keep her eyes from her man, all beardy and handsome over there. He’d been given clothes that almost made him look like one of the locals, jeans and a plain T-shirt. As with everything, of course, he looked great in it.

  And as she kept staring furtively she realized just how desperate she was to get him alone, and not just to be with him; to talk to him, to tell him everything. There was still so much. And new stuff on top of that. Standing there with Drake she watched him, recognizing his own frustrated desire, seeing the flashes of curiosity in his eyes as he glanced across at her.

  “Listen,” Drake was saying. “Let me take a moment to get this back on the right track. I’m sorry about everything that went down. Especially at your house.”

  She forced her attention to him, thinking for a moment he meant the recent events at her house with she, Zac and Willet, fighting the Kel—then realized he was talking about that day back in Boise when she left for good. The day of fire, in her hometown, when she evaded the Project and escaped with the Skull Boy, back to Anitra.

  “I wish you hadn’t run,” he said.

  She nearly laughed. “What did you expect me to do?”

  “I had some over-eager agents on the scene. I admit that. I just wish things had gone down differently.”

  “I was just a girl.” It struck her that she was still just a girl, no older now than she was then. Still Jessica Paquin, teenage girl, tardy from high school now for … however long.

  But she was a girl then, and the girl that ran might’ve reacted differently now. “What’s done is done,” she said. “As it is that whole day set this in motion.” She looked around the busy room.

  Drake saw the truth of it.

  “I will find what they’re hiding,” she spoke the thought aloud, not caring if Drake wondered what that meant or how she
planned to do it. She could see the instant confusion in his eyes—he had no idea what she intended, nor what she was capable of. No idea who she really was, and that just reminded her of everything else that was wrong.

  “I need to talk to Zac,” she said, excused herself and went across the room.

  **

  “Willet took me out,” Zac walked beside Jess, a casual stroll, hand in hand. “They had to keep telling me, like, every day that you were here or there and show me your progress.” He was describing the wait as she made the trip up from Spain. “I didn’t want to wait. I wanted to go to you. They were all worried because they knew I might actually do it. Willet kept me centered.”

  Jess imagined Willet keeping an antsy Zac in check. She recalled the multiple handoffs of the journey, the uncertainty of traveling like that when so much was at stake. All she could think of right now was how she never expected to find Zac so soon and what now? She’d been laser-focused on an objective, thrown a huge curve—what was new?—and was already off course before she’d really even started, reunited with the love of her forever—her very existence—desperate to get back on track and yet desperate never to leave him again.

  In some ways, oddly, Zac made this more difficult, not less.

  They strolled a park just outside of town, the safe house too cramped to find any space alone. She’d been given a set of regular clothes—jeans and a button-down shirt, with sleeves that were a little too long. To her private happiness she found a pair of comfy UGG boots in their pile of clothes that fit perfectly and were amazingly cozy. After that she grabbed Zac and went off for a walk. On the way she got a knit pom cap, a red one—it was a cool summer morning—and was still wearing it though the day had warmed. It felt nice on her head. Drake gave her a bulky watch before they left, a matte black, MTM tactical series made for SEALs. It was heavy on her wrist, but he’d insisted she wear it and keep track of time. In all, with the exception of the watch, she looked like a normal, civilian, teenage girl.

  Which was exactly what she should be, of course. Only she wasn’t. And out there among the people of the world, dressed like one, trying to pretend to be one, felt strangely like wearing a disguise. She was disguised as what she was supposed to be. The real her …

  Normal is so far gone.

  Zac ambled close, she did too, and they kept brushing up against each other. A deep, cleansing breath of the Highland air helped push aside the distractions. At least for a while. Leaving her struggling, as always, to put everything into perspective.

  Why did it take so long to become aware? This latest line of thought had been plaguing her. If she was the priestess and could continue in another form—as she was doing now—why wait to act? A thousand years! Why? Had she simply foreseen this grand multi-world campaign as a necessity? The only real way to bring closure to what she’d begun? As a result had she just been hiding all this time? Until the moment was right? She, as yet, had not delved into what might’ve been going on in the time between Aesha and now. It was a mystery for which she had no answers. How could she possibly have known so much back then, seen so many things that would lead directly to this? It seemed ridiculously omniscient, even for the way she felt. If she was that all-seeing then none of this should be near as difficult as it was.

  Life should be a cake walk.

  But it wasn’t.

  “Beautiful day,” Zac commented and, once more, she hauled her mind back to the present.

  It was a gorgeous summer day.

  “The weather is so nice,” she agreed. “This far north summer is the best time of year.” Flowers were in bloom, everything was green; the smells, the temperature …

  All of it, wonderful.

  A few others were in the park. Not many. A family swinging their kid. Neither parent looked particularly happy. The kid was laughing but the parents were glum, trying to laugh along for the kid’s sake. Not the sort of expressions one usually saw in a park. The sight of the kid, of course, shone a bright light on the news Jess waited desperately to share with Zac, but so far the moment hadn’t felt right. And so she walked along, waiting for it, sitting on it, troubled by the turmoil of things clamoring to be said.

  Her pregnancy wasn’t the only thing she needed to divulge.

  As they strolled she realized this was her first encounter with civilization since the invasion and so far everyone looked about as lost as she expected. In the pub. At the few stops on the way. Now these people here, trying to find a few moments. Only she and Zac drifted in and out of genuine smiles, though not because they were any less concerned with the state of affairs. If anything they were more concerned. Unlike the people in the park they had a direct hand in events and were about to play an even bigger role, but none of this was new for them and, more than anything, they’d reconnected. Across incredible distance and fantastic odds and all else that stood between.

  They had real reason to be happy.

  And so much yet to say.

  “We went to a little store in town,” Zac spoke tentatively, then reached into his pocket. She could tell this was something he’d been building up to. Just like her, he had something he was waiting to say. “I saw this.” He stopped and pulled out …

  A necklace. A dark leather band with a charm. She stopped to face him as he handed it to her a little uncertainly. “It made me think of you.” A wave of extreme curiosity washed over her as she took the leather necklace and held it in both hands, focus drawn to the silver charm. It was a small set of wings, engraved with feathers. There was a tiny Celtic inscription beneath.

  She turned her eyes up to him with deep appreciation.

  “It says ‘Angel of Light’,” he pointed, “in some old language.” He scratched his neck. “They told me in the store.” An involuntary swallow, and he noted the thickness of the band, the sturdy mold of the little wings. “It shouldn’t break easily,” he said. “Even though it’s pretty, it’s tough. Like you.” He searched her eyes. “The angel.” His nerves were so touching, and so cute. She could tell he was trying to read her expression, edging toward that awkward look boys got at moments like this. They all did, in their own way. Did I do good? They wanted to know. Do you like it? It must’ve been in their chemistry, and she could imagine cave men way back when, timidly trying to give a fancy bone or something to a cave girl, hoping not to be rejected. It reminded her of Mike and Haz, her two most recent suitors who presented her with something special.

  “I know you think you’re not,” Zac mumbled, insisting in her silence, “but you are.”

  She found her voice. “It’s beautiful,” she told him. “Perfect. So perfect, Zac.” She turned it in her hands, admiring it. “I love it.” Then she handed it to him, turned and held her hair up at the edge of her hat so he could put it on her. He did, the feel of his fingers at the nape of her neck giving her a thrill, then it was hooked and she dropped her hair and turned. The fit was perfect, circling her neck with only a little to spare, almost like a choker but not tight. Just right. The angel wings sat right at the teardrop of skin where her collar bones met.

  It was lovely.

  “It fits perfect,” she said.

  He admired it on her, then leaned and kissed her.

  “I had them adjust it,” he put a hand to her head. For a moment she wanted to pull off the stocking hat, so he could run his hands through her hair.

  “How?” she wondered. “You remembered my neck size?”

  “I remember everything about you.” He seemed almost surprised she wouldn’t know that. “I can tell you the length of your pinky finger, how big around your ankle is. I could describe the exact shape of your nose. Everything.”

  Maybe his Kazerai abilities helped with that, or maybe he was just that good, but the fact that he’d absorbed that much detail about her, and retained it, filled her with happiness.

  His eyes swallowed her in. “You’re my world.”

  She kissed him, and it was instantly electric, rising with a shift in desire, and, when th
e heat became too much, she pulled a little away and suggested they keep walking.

  He agreed and took her hand in his, resuming their delightfully aimless stroll. As they walked he looked down at her from the side.

  “Did you tell them?” he asked. “Bianca and Nani? What you told me?”

  He meant the truth of who she was.

  “No,” she said. It was hard enough getting her friends to accept what she did tell them. Revealing the fact that she’d been on this quest for a thousand years, that she was the priestess … there was no way she was spilling those beans. It was hard enough telling Zac, her soul mate, the one who’d been with her way back then, and all at once she wanted to stop and ask him whether he truly believed. She knew he said he did but did he really? She wanted to know how he felt about his own role in that shared past.

  He steered them toward the seclusion of one of the more tree-lined trails.

  “This group here,” he said as they moved deeper into the idyllic woods, “Drake and his guys. They seem like good people.”

  “They do,” she agreed. Then: “I still can’t believe the Earth has been invaded.” She couldn’t. The words were thin, something to say—little emotion in them—but it was true. That reality was something she’d not yet fully digested. So caught up was she in her personal drama, from Hamonhept and Galfar to the Bok and the threat to the Codes—the threat of the Codes, should the Kel reach them first; so quickly had she been moving since she even learned of the invasion … the absolutely epic changes to her existence had so far prevented more than a cursory acceptance of the facts.

  But the Earth had been invaded.

  I mean, she thought, there they were, out in the open, in a park, trying to be normal, all while alien overlords hovered in orbit, invaders that just knocked the shit out of the whole world and were currently plotting the fate of mankind.