Star Angel: Prophecy

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Star Angel: Prophecy Page 49

by David G. McDaniel


  Immediate, full acceptance.

  Jess stared hard at Cheops.

  He looked away. “As you wish.”

  “I know things of which you have no awareness,” she said. “I’ve just been to one world that hangs in the balance. That world has been overrun and soon it will fall. It was the seat of the Codex Amkradus. I have retrieved them and brought them here.” Arclyss had been looking right at her, and his eyes went wide as she said this, then a knowing look. Cheops, who’d been maintaining his distant gaze, turned his head to her, all ears. “I have returned them here for safekeeping,” she said. “At least one other world, an allied world, is in danger. An army, the likes of which you can hardly conceive, is poised to sweep both worlds aside. They will come here next.

  “The threat to all of us could not be more grave.” She looked further afield, at the bodies massed on both sides, imminent conflict held in check; waiting, ready for the next command.

  “This,” she invited them to look with her, to follow her gaze and see with fresh eyes what was arrayed before them, “this little staredown ends now.” They watched her. Waiting. “We will need our unity in the days to come. The battle we will fight will dwarf this as if it were two children wrestling over a toy.” She didn’t know why her speech had morphed into such archaic mannerisms, but it was holding their attention. Her delivery was intense; her certainty off the scale.

  The breeze blew. Here and there in the distance a horse or a creature neighed or made some noise. The subtle movement of thousands of bodies drifted on the air, all of them silent, but the sound of that many living things managed to generate its own distinctive resonance.

  She reached for the small radio.

  Time to move this along.

  “There’s something else.”

  **

  Egg could not believe it. They’d found Jess, and soon—they’d only just arrived and there she was—and soon they would go get her.

  Bianca stood to Egg’s left, Nani to her right, Dad on the other side, all of them right up against the big screen staring at what was taking place far below. After everything that had happened Jess was standing on the open field with two large figures, a red-headed one of the barbarians and a tall, black, giant of a man in glittering gold armor. Details were hard to make out, even at that magnification, but it was clear Jess was giving them some sort of instructions.

  “She’s the angel,” Darvon said, voice hushed, a gentle smile on his face. Like he’d just realized some sort of salvation. Egg hoped her dad wasn’t about to launch into a sermon about the whole thing. He didn’t. Instead he just shook his head, immensely satisfied.

  Egg was going to say something in response, was going to tell her dad no one ever said she wasn’t, but there was a beep and Jess was coming through over the bridge’s speakers.

  “You guys up there?”

  They all turned, full of eager surprise; like expecting a call and going for a phone, everyone at once, only there was no phone, you just had to speak, and so they all did—at the same time.

  “We’re here!” or four variations of that, and Bianca laughed. Egg did too.

  “Do you have me?” It was Jess!

  Nani took charge. “We do. We’ve been watching.” Then: “Are you ready?”

  A slight hesitation, Egg thought she could make out Jessica’s hand to her mouth on the screen, probably holding the communicator, but that was only a guess; things were still too small. Then Jessica’s voice:

  “I’m here,” she said. “I’m ready.”

  **

  Galfar could sense the anticipation in the air. He waited with their small group, feeling exposed on the open plain though he stood with the leaders of both armies, Cheops and Arclyss. Their priestess stood at their head, looking now and again to the sky, Haz with them. They awaited the arrival of, what Jessica told them would be, A Great Ship Of The Sky.

  She’d forced the truce between sides and sent riders to the Necrops to retrieve him. When they came Haz was with him and Galfar thought it appropriate to bring his son. The priestess was overjoyed to see him when they rode out together, and it was a happy reunion in that bleak setting. Galfar couldn’t recall when he’d last seen Haz smile like that, and it was a little time before he could wipe the happiness from his face and restore his usual, aloof disdain. Jessica had then told them that the others would come for them and that they would descend from the sky in a ship and that they should be prepared for what was to come.

  Galfar didn’t think he could be alarmed by anything his priestess did. He was comforted by her, so calmed that she was here and all would be right—she brought the Codes and their Golden Age surely was at hand—and so anyone or anything that was with her, he would accept unconditionally.

  She’s here! Their priestess made it, and she was with them.

  As they waited he studied her. Knowing there were other things. Things he noticed, in the wisdom of his old age and experiences, but was sure no one else did.

  “You bring a new arrival,” he said to her in the quiet, all looking to the sky. It was a private moment among the throng. She stood beside him, such affinity for him, such pride to know him, he could feel the intensity of her admiration. He felt unworthy. She truly loved him, and was rushing with her own happiness to be there with him.

  “They’re my friends,” she said, mistaking his meaning.

  “Not them.” He reached and touched her armored stomach lightly. She looked, eyes widening, and Galfar smiled into them. He glanced at her belly. “Him.”

  She was shocked that he could know—she wasn’t showing in the least, no outward signs; how could he?—but the shock passed and she gave him an easy smile.

  “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “When you’ve had as many as I have, you know the glow.”

  She smiled wider.

  “I’m going to have a son.”

  “Yes.” It was a happy moment.

  Then Haz was pointing to the sky. “There.” Galfar followed and squinted into the blue. The spot to which Haz pointed was away from the sun but still Galfar saw nothing.

  Then a speck.

  “That’s them,” said Jess. “Hold your ground until they land,” she told everyone within earshot. “There is nothing to fear.”

  Closer it came. Defining edges against the clear sky; shape like a colossal bird of prey, all black, a shadow come to life, gaining more and more definition as it descended, riding on an invisible column of air, like floating, a controlled drift, a rock falling like a leaf, all the way to the ground. By the time it landed Galfar had studied every inch of it, a machine made for war, it was, with the marks of battle to prove it, long scars, edges that must surely hold weapons for fighting. Near the ground thick legs unfolded from beneath it, and when it settled it towered above them all, so high, so long and so wide, a colossus of dark purpose, sitting on the empty plain facing the two armies.

  Two sad armies. As Galfar bore witness to this fantastic machine of war he saw how puny they truly were. How ridiculous their quarrel. This craft could wipe them from those fields, every last one, in a second. The city, all of it. Nothing could stand against this.

  Their conflict was as nothing.

  This thing, he knew at once, was of the Ancients, straight out of legend, and Jessica was their priestess incarnate. Not only did she bring their future, she brought the very past to their defense. If it was to be war, and she said that it was, then with this ship they would surely prevail.

  A small part of it split away, just along the lower edge, closest to the ground, lowering a ramp. Four people emerged. Not warriors, as Galfar expected. Two girls Jessica’s age, another, older one with blonde hair, followed by a short, middle-aged man. Each dressed in normal clothes.

  These were the commanders of this mighty machine of war. They walked out and down to the soft ground, somewhat tentatively, searching the scene before them, looking at all the bodies, looking for Jessica, the ship and its shadow looming over them.
Then they saw her and one of the girls started running. Then the other. The man followed suit, more slowly but just as eager. Spotting Jessica and shouting her name across the distance. Rushing for her.

  Jessica was running too.

  CHAPTER 43: NEW PLANS

  “Hey,” Pete stopped Zac on his way out, noting Zac’s expression. Zac paused and Pete looked for a moment uncertain. “I know how you feel.” He searched Zac’s eyes, empathy in his own. “Don’t worry. Your girlfriend has mad skills. Wherever she is she’s fine.”

  Zac nodded. “Thanks.” Pete was just trying to give him a little hope. Make him feel better in the agonizing vacuum of information. “I appreciate it,” he patted him on the shoulder. Unlike normally, Pete didn’t cringe or make funny, or act like Zac just broke his arm. Zac smiled. Pete did too, and Zac continued on outside.

  Pete had been processing his own loss. They all had, really—they lost good men during the heat of their mission—but the death of Steve hit particularly close for Pete. Going in no one expected to survive, and so when many of them did it was hard not to feel the high of that success—and the loss of those who didn’t.

  Zac headed down a narrow lane, away from the new safe house. The group had moved, to somewhere on the southern shores of England, part of the same island with Scotland, the place where their little resistance cell had just been. Not far from the new safe house were cliffs that plunged into the ocean. Zac had been there a few times for the solitude, to reflect. He made for them now.

  They’d heard nothing more from Jess. Zac knew her general plan, more detail than anyone else, and her continuation after Hong Kong was in line with what he expected. She would be safe. As Pete said, his girlfriend had mad skills. There was every reason to believe she’d make it all the way. Zac worked to hold to that confidence.

  He turned down a sunny path, a rutted trail off the main lane that led to the cliffs, bordered on each side by broad-leaved trees. At that time of day their shadows cast the trail in dappled sunshine. Birds sang and flitted in the branches, the air was warm, the sounds of the ocean up ahead crashing against the cliffs.

  It was a beautiful curtain that hid the ugly in the world.

  Kang was loose. Word was he showed up at the site of their escape, where they left the lander after fleeing the Kel. According to what they now knew Kang was on a tear across the Siberian outback. Zac had seen the map where Kang raged, the progress he was making, the barrenness of that land, and, as powerful as the mutant Kazerai was, a planet was simply too huge. There was just no way. Zac assumed Kang was after him, but his nemesis could run full speed in every direction and find nothing.

  It looked as if Kang had finally lost his mind.

  Despite the futility of that Zac knew he must face him. That day was inevitable. Until Kang was dead, or Zac himself, they were destined to meet, again and again until their conflict was resolved. Like two comets in a predestined, interlocking orbit, only time stood between them. And though Zac knew how strong Kang was, he himself was getting stronger by the day. A surge, a rush he could barely contain, and when they did meet, he wondered, would he finally be the better fighter? Would he finally defeat the deranged beast? Or would neither be able to win? Would they end up in an infinite battle that raged for days, weeks, no hope of declaring a winner, endless combat until one of them expired?

  He reached the end of the short trail and turned from the woods to the wide expanse of cliffs, fronting out on the vast ocean and the sheer drop at their edge. He walked toward them, a normal human pace, leisurely, no call for anything else.

  The bigger question, he thought, is will I even make it to that battle? As his flame burned brighter he knew it raced faster toward its end. Soon it would go out. Had Kang’s lifecycle also changed? Whatever force transformed his enemy to a super Kazerai (the thought of that was interesting; almost like calling Kang a super-super human), did that same transformation precipitate his end as well? Maybe Kang would live forever. And as Zac thought of that, he wondered again what was on the other side. What would death be like? His biggest fear, as before, was not death, but that he would forget.

  He reached the edge of the cliffs. Panoramic only began to describe the view. It was enormous, from way up there, looking out, a scene that stretched to the horizon in three directions, nothing but ocean and waves and sky. He stood tall in the stiff breeze and took a deep breath as he gazed out to sea.

  Piecing together his thoughts.

  Even when he died, which would happen eventually, he now knew with certainty he would continue. Time with Jess had shown him that. He knew the substance of his continuum, and was convinced of the truth of it. He feared, however, that continuance, in whatever form, might not be with all memories intact. Transcendence with a clean slate was scary. He suspected memories would not be totally lost, this life and the last—and the last and the last and on and on—buried, forgotten, no different than all things, difficult to recall but there if you looked, but how bad would it be? He wanted the full sensory load, not just fleeting memories he had to work for, or worse, hope for. He wanted the love, the feelings, the things he had now, the good and the bad and the infatuation and the anguish and everything that made him who he was. The difficulty, the intensity, the indescribable highs, the anticipation and the soul-rushing joy it meant to be with Jess, again and again and again …

  He did not want to lose that. None of it. Feeling. Passion. Who he was right now, his identity …

  The loss of those things …

  That he feared.

  And though the mechanics of a transition to that next iteration of self was highly unknown, he knew he’d been on this same journey with Jess, herself a new version yet the same, and maybe it would all work out. Maybe he worried for nothing. Who knew? Maybe the Codes had more info, more insight into these very secrets. Could there be something in the Codes that would save him? If Jess had found them, perhaps when she understood them such secrets would be revealed.

  As he thought of this he began to feel a gentle buzz. At first he imagined it was just the expansion of that deeper contemplation. But it wasn’t. The buzz intensified and … as he recognized it he grew alarmed.

  It was the prelude to a shut-down.

  The lock-up of all nerve centers, a distinct feeling he now knew uncomfortably well and dreaded, and it was about to leave him disconnected. Helpless.

  Panic gripped him like a shot.

  Even as the suffocating numbness hit, in force, and before he could react—not that there was anything he could do—he was in a cocoon; that dull state of mind where he could hear, and see, yet could not make any part of himself move.

  He felt his balance waver, no ability to correct, stuck like a mannequin, standing there with his eyes locked to the horizon, their last position, last place he was looking, full field of view and unable to blink, shift or move at all. Seeing that whole beautiful vista like being locked to a final image.

  The terror grew. So much uncertainty; no guarantee this was just another episode and would not be his last. No guarantee he would snap back.

  Staring. Waiting. Aware yet, to anyone looking ... nothing.

  Then … feeling. Just as he was starting to topple he broke free, got a foot back and caught his balance.

  Took a deep, shuddering breath.

  Wondering just how long he had left.

  **

  Jess lifted the lid to the briefcase. “There they are.” She stood on the bridge of the Reaver, surrounded by Galfar, Haz, Arclyss, Cheops, Nani, Bianca, Darvon and Egg. It was possibly the most unusual combination of people gathered in one spot she’d ever been part of. The way everything had come to converge in that moment, each individual relationship … the fusion of personalities in one place was incredible. An old aborigine of a man, who’d taught her not only to speak in people’s minds but to move things with her mind. Her true mentor. His son, who could do the same thing and was possibly clairvoyant. A thick, comically muscular barbarian, leader of an army of
warriors like himself; Vikings of ancient purpose, occupying a Cinderella castle. Beside and dwarfing even him—dwarfing any man—the giant Arclyss, an ebon-skinned, living Greek statue with no clear origins, dressed in gold armor like a Pharaoh. There was then the girl scientist, genius from yet another world; with two others from that same world, a father and his daughter—the most normal among them. Then Bianca. Human girl from Earth, just like Jess, once high school besty and fashionista, now pilot and captain of an ancient starship. And she, Jess, priestess, also once a high school teen, now self-aware after a thousand-year absence. All of them aboard the ancient Reaver. A starship, landed on a world with technology barely beyond the harnessing of fire, and on the pedestal before them a simple briefcase from Earth, the case itself of a simple technology, housing …

  Something beyond any of that.

  The Codex Amkradus.

  It was a very surreal moment.

  “The Codes,” she said, then again in Kel for the benefit of Galfar and Haz, Arclyss and Cheops.

  Everyone’s mind was blowing, almost audibly. She saw Nani and Bianca and Darvon and Egg loaded with questions. To be rushing to this unveiling, for her to be speaking Kel fluently, and here were these strange people and Jess knew them and she made it, here she was safe and okay after having gone back to Earth alone, and she was showing them this legendary thing, and she did it—she really did it—what she said she was going to do and she came and was here, like she said she would be, and everything else that was happening and all of it all at once …

  Overwhelmed was scarcely the right word.

  Everyone was staring at the Codes. The pair of shiny metallic cubes nestled in their plain, nondescript briefcase.

  It was Nani who spoke first.

  “You …” she began, and in that first instant Jess realized she was actually speaking in Kel, “speak Kel?” Nani’s pronunciation was good, and at first Jess was thoroughly surprised, but it hit her Nani had spent years with this stuff and of course she would’ve bothered to learn the language. Nani was beyond brilliant and totally immersed in the Reaver and all things Kel and so it was only natural she would’ve picked it up, if only as a hobby.

 

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