Brink of Dawn (A Chosen Novel Book 2)

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Brink of Dawn (A Chosen Novel Book 2) Page 18

by Jeff Altabef


  He strolls over to Troy and sits next to him.

  Great.

  The waves ripple against the dock while Gagarin sits comfortably in a teak chair, a glass of bourbon held lightly in his hand, and a pleasant smile plastered on his face. The moonlight glistening off the rolling water has a hypnotic effect on him. He removes his prize possession from a velvet pouch, a crystal ball no larger than the palm of his hand, and uses his mind to hover it before him.

  The small round crystal is a miniature world, created by the Memory Librarians centuries earlier. When his ancestors were banished from Alpha, the Memory Librarians pulled memories of the planet from the Deltites and locked them into a dozen miniature worlds, none larger than the palm of his hand. They used the memories to re-create Alpha as it was, right before they were sent away—every detail exact and polished.

  Only this planet has no Alphians or animals on it. They could only capture the bones of the world as it once existed, and because they were limited by the amount of collected memories, not all twelve of the miniature worlds have the same level of detail. Gagarin’s is eleventh out of twelve, so some of the more remote portions of Alpha are blank. Still, many would kill for his treasure.

  He certainly would.

  He stares at the beauty of the crystal for a moment and projects himself into it. Having no physical form in this world, he can only drift along the planet’s surface as if he were a ghost. The most powerful among them can take solid form on the imaginary planet, even touch the structures and smell the air, but that power lies beyond his abilities. Still, he can float and see his home world, and that satisfies him for now.

  He travels to his favorite landmarks, the Crystal Caverns, a vast underground space with an endless supply of crystals that enhance natural Alphian power, and the Elder Canyon, which by comparison makes the Grand Canyon seem puny and dull in size and beauty. He also travels to the Alphian Gardens, the true Eden of the universe, filled with a plethora of wildflowers and the intoxicating wide-leafed Linutai Plant with its mind-bending powers.

  He lingers at all these places and imagines possibilities, probing beauties he’s been banished from, but eventually he drifts toward the crowded stadium in the capital. He always visits the crystal structure last—a soaring demonstration of Alphian advanced architecture. Used for the most important Gatherings, it holds over two hundred thousand Alphians and has a beauty without equal in the known universe—even the Memory Librarians had a hard time recreating its majesty and allure. He feels a deep sense of melancholy as he looks upon it now, empty and lifeless, its true greatness diminished.

  He imagines it packed with Alphians—two hundred thousand of them. They crowd the stadium bringing their own spirit energy, their own light, which transforms the lifeless structure into a truly remarkable, dazzling kaleidoscope of color. The Deltite flag billows in the sweet-smelling breeze.

  He pictures himself dressed in an Elder’s shimmering tunic as he sits on the dais in one of the crystal throne chairs. A Heart, a simple red crystal, hangs from his neck on a golden chain. The Heart acts as a turbo boost for Alphian power, much stronger than normal crystals. Only a few exist, and only Elders are permitted to wear them. He sits in one of the six chairs on the dais, but not the tallest one—not yet anyway. One day he might be elevated to Leader, but for now, just sitting on the dais would be enough.

  The former Elders, chains linked around their necks, squirm on their hands and knees before them. Defeated, they have been stripped naked in shame for how they betrayed their kind. When he decides their fate, the Heart pulses with energy and fills him with power and greatness he could only dream about.

  As he reaches the climax of his short daydream, Bailey and Caleb, his two subordinates, arrive and interrupt his musings, which spoil their purity and intensity. The spell broken, he opens his eyes, pulls away from the miniature world, and replaces the crystal into the velvet pouch.

  “Yes? Since you’ve come without an invite, I presume you two have important news to share with me, critical data that could not wait.”

  A sly smile graces Bailey’s thin lips. “Our computer experts have found an interesting symbol that’s connected to the hybrids and the Elders back on Alpha.”

  “Really? Let me see it.” Gagarin’s interest is piqued. He knows the Elders cannot help but feed their own warped sense of poetry. The twisted arrows and the samurai swords are ironies created to amuse them.

  He takes the sheet of paper from Caleb and laughs. The bit of mirth escapes from his lips involuntarily. “How remarkable, and how arrogant of them. Did they think we would not notice? Four twisted weapons together all in one circle. They might as well have stamped the words Alphian Elders on it. What fools.”

  “We thought you’d find it amusing.” Caleb smiles.

  “I do not understand why the Elders persist in this ridiculous version of the universe where we live in harmony with the inferior species. We are meant to dominate them. A child could see it. They exist for our control. It is the only natural order that makes any sense.”

  Gagarin glances at his two fellow Deltites as they nod along. Even they understand natural selection. It’s so simple really, a pattern repeated everywhere in the universe. Even humans understand that the most powerful among them are meant to rule, their democracies nothing more than failed attempts to disburse power. In the end, the wealthy and powerful govern, and deep down they know that’s how it should be.

  He sighs. “I imagine you found this symbol in the City?”

  Bailey beams such a bright smile that her violet eyes glow in the moonlight. “Yes, and there’s more.”

  He leans forward in his chair.

  “We found the symbol in an old article about walking tours in Greenwich Village. It’s the sign used by a small hotel on Perry Street, but that’s not the best part. Check out this photograph we took from outside the hotel earlier tonight. The individual in the photograph is the owner and manager of the hotel.”

  She hands him a color photo that he brings close to his face. “It can’t be.... They brought an Ugly, but surely there is an Alphian master nearby. He must work for one or maybe two Alphians sent by the Elders.”

  Bailey shakes her head. “Our guys interviewed the neighbors who live near the hotel. No one has seen anyone who could be mistaken for an Alphian. The Ugly is the owner and manager. We even had the computer experts check the ownership and there is no sign of any Alphian involvement—just an Ugly.”

  “Why do they insult us so?” Gagarin starts to pace. “Sending an Ugly to help these hybrids? Do they think so little of us that they believe this creature can defeat our efforts to take the planet?”

  He had hoped to kill Alphians from the home planet, perhaps even an Elite sent by the Elders. Only by defeating a worthy opponent can he advance and prove himself, but now there’s only an Ugly to face. They should have sent someone powerful, unless they have other plans.

  But what?

  He glances at the photo again. “Who’s this woman with the Ugly. They appear close.”

  “Her name is Sydney. She works at the hotel for him,” says Bailey.

  “We could go tonight and kill the lot of them.” Caleb reaches for the handle of his sword at his waist. “How hard could four hybrids and one Ugly be to kill? I’m sure I could do it on my own.”

  “I am confident you could, but it would be messy to kill them in such a public place, and we do not need the attention when we’re so close to our goals. Besides, we must be missing something. Why would they give so much authority to an Ugly? Some caution is called for. We should not forget the lesson Damien taught us. Have our people watch this hotel for the next day and report back to me. Let’s see if an Alphian shows up. Otherwise, I have a more delicious plan in store for them, a glorious plan that will truly make them pay for their arrogance.”

  He crumples the picture in his hand. “The woman in the photo... what do we know about her?”

  I toss the last encyclopedia onto the be
d from my perch by the window, and gaze outside. The first rays of dawn start to lighten the morning sky as I try to make sense of what’s happening.

  Back at the cathedral, Troy and Connor chatted for what seemed like forever, but in real time lasted probably no more than ten minutes. I kept waiting for fireworks, but their conversation stayed cordial. In the end, they meandered over to where the rest of us sat, and Troy even took a swig of wine. Still, he refused to look at me and subjected me to the silent treatment for the rest of the night, which I totally hate. He knows how much it bothers me, so I refused to apologize to him.

  He did almost get himself blown up, so technically I was right.

  After we finished the bottle, we lingered in the church for an hour or so. Connor regaled us with stories of his altar boy adventures. Not surprisingly, many involved him stealing the sacramental wine. One time he added food coloring to it. Hours later, parishioners complained that their mouths had turned purple. Some even thought God had sent them a sign, until the vicar realized what he had done.

  As the stories waned, no one wanted to head back to the Inn, but where else could we go? We strolled back downtown at a leisurely place.

  With no sign of Stuart or Sydney in the lobby, we disappeared into our rooms.

  Troy fell asleep instantly on the couch, but I tossed fretfully for a few hours in the bed before I gave up.

  Troy grumbles, rolls over and plants his face firmly into the cushions on the couch. He’s probably having a bad dream, which is totally understandable since Stuart almost vaporized him with a bomb only a few hours earlier.

  I can’t watch him sleep any longer. Besides, too many thoughts bump into each other looking for space in my head, and the hotel feels like a prison, so I sneak past him, go down stairs, and stroll out the front door onto Perry Street.

  The soft morning light takes the edge off the City’s rough corners. On the street I can finally breathe. With no destination in mind, I head west toward the river and grab my burner cell phone from my pocket. I need to talk to someone—someone not named Troy or Connor for that matter—so I dial my father’s cell.

  He answers on the second ring, his voice rough with sleep. It’s three hours earlier in Arizona, which means it’s not yet four in the morning. “Juliet, are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m sorry it’s so early. I forgot about the time difference.”

  “Don’t worry about that. Are you safe? Have you found the others?”

  “I’m safe for the moment.” I don’t want to worry him anymore than he is already, so I won’t tell him about the poison or the bomb. “I’ve connected with the three other Chosen. We’re working together.”

  “So things are going according to plan?”

  I chuckle, unable to help myself. Nothing seems like it’s going as planned. “You could say that—”

  “What’s bothering you? I may not have known you for long, but I am your father. I can tell by your voice that you’re upset. What’s up?”

  I try to avoid the question. “How’s Mom?”

  “She’s... doing as well as you’d expect under the circumstances. I won’t lie to you. Once she found out that I helped you leave she wanted to kill me, but so far she hasn’t snuck up on me with a knife in the middle of the night. She’ll be fine when you come home.”

  If I come home....

  I squeeze the phone. “You’re watching over her, right? They might have figured out my identity, and then you’ll be in danger.” Nothing I can do short of killing the Prime Elector can keep them truly safe.

  “Don’t worry about us, Juliet. I drive your mother to work and back and keep an eye on her. I will keep her safe. Now tell me what’s bothering you. You don’t have to continue on the path your grandfather set for you. You can come home. We’ll disappear someplace. We can go to Ireland. I still have some family left there.”

  “No, it’s not that. I have to see this through. It’s the only way to keep everyone safe. They’ll find me no matter where we go, and I’d rather hunt them than the other way around. I just... there’s one Chosen here named Connor and he’s driving me crazy.” As the words blow from my mouth in an emotional gust, I instantly feel better and completely stupid at the same time. Weird.

  “Crazy how?”

  “That’s the problem. I don’t know. He’s stubborn and funny and strong and vulnerable and smart and can be really stupid. He’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but he has... a lot to offer.” I don’t mention his rugged good looks or his eyes that seem to have no end or his drinking or his girlfriend back home. I’m hopeless.

  “Oh... he sounds like an interesting person. What does Troy think of him?”

  I’ve only spent a few days with my father. We first met two weeks ago, a short time before I had to kill the Seeker to save Mom and escape from town with Troy. When he was sixteen, he took over his brother’s drug dealing gang, so he knows that teenagers are capable of doing a lot more than adults usually give them credit for. He believes in me, and that belief is why he let me leave without putting up a stronger fight. That and maybe he knew I was going anyway and didn’t want to snuff out the kindling that represented our newly formed father-daughter relationship.

  Still, he doesn’t know me that well yet—not like my best friends or Mom—but he’s perceptive enough to bring the conversation back to Troy, which he must have figured out is at the heart of the problem. I can’t like them both. Troy’s always been my best friend and I love him, but do I love him? What does he want?

  I’ve just met Connor, but I feel a spark and can’t seem to get him out of my mind. Since I barely sleep, that’s twenty-two hours a day with a boy in my head, which is way too much.

  I sigh. “Troy’s not a big fan of his. He thinks he’s unreliable.”

  “Reliability is important when you’re part of a team. But if you see qualities in him that’ll be helpful, give him a chance to prove himself. Some people appear unreliable on the outside but are rock solid on the inside.”

  He’s talking about himself. Mom trusted him even though no one else did, especially Sicheii. “Thanks, Dad. I’ve got to go. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

  “Say the word and I’ll come help, wherever you are.”

  I smile because he’s serious. It’s nice to have a father after not knowing one for the first sixteen years of my life. Just talking to him has made me feel better. “Thanks, and I’ll call if I need help. Just watch after Mom and tell her I love her.”

  “You got it, Love. Don’t worry about us and don’t forget to toss the phone. I’ll do the same. You remember the next phone number, right?”

  We agreed to use each burner phone only once. After that we switch to the next one. “Yep, and thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For listening and not asking too many questions.” I disconnect the call, remove the battery from the phone, and toss it in the trash.

  I’ve wandered to the banks of the Hudson River. For a long moment its tranquil beauty transfixes me, makes me feel small in comparison, and that makes me smile. I know the sensation won’t last, but it allows me to relax and rest, which is what I need. I’m not sure how much time passes, but the sun starts to beat down on me and the temperature gets warmer.

  I return to the Inn with the same questions I had before I left. My only resolution is to stuff my feelings for Troy and Connor into a mental closet and keep them locked away until after we’ve dealt with the Prime Elector.

  Troy waits for me when I open the door.

  “Where’d you go?” He looks worried.

  “Out.” My tone is colder than I intend so I soften it and add, “just for a walk by the river.”

  “They’re waiting for you downstairs in the dining room. Stuart is ready to tell us the name of this leader dude.”

  We’re the last to arrive at the dining room. A strangling early-morning frost hovers in the air that’s cold and biting.

  Troy grins at Connor before he plops down next to him.


  Great. All of a sudden they’re best friends.

  Connor points at Stuart but looks at me. “We decided against killing him until you showed up. I thought it would only be fair if we all voted on it.”

  “I vote we kill him,” growls Akari.

  “That’s good enough for me.” Connor bolts from his seat and grabs Stuart’s neck before his chair hits the ground. He moves so fast Stuart can’t create a force field in time to protect himself.

  Connor squeezes and Stuart’s face turns pink. “Listen, Host, how do you like having your life on the line?”

  Stuart paws at Connor’s hands, but can’t weaken his grip. It doesn’t look like Connor is letting him breathe.

  I shift forward, ready to jump in because, as pissed as I am with Stuart, I can’t let Connor kill him.

  Troy grabs my hand under the table and whispers “Wait!” in my ear.

  “You threaten the people we love again, and I’ll pop your head clear off. Got that, Stuart?” Connor’s face blazes white-hot.

  He’s probably thinking about the pub owner’s daughter back home. He must love her a lot, which only makes sense. He’s the type of guy who would love someone completely.

  At least that’s what I imagine. I’m such an idiot to believe he could have fallen for me.

  He releases Stuart, who gasps for air and slumps forward on the table, but remains standing over him.

  “That was the final test, right?” Akari spits the words out with a hard edge.

  Stuart straightens his shirt collar and his face turns back to its normal pasty white. “Yes, yes, the final test from me indeed. Of course you will have to face the Deltites, and they will be harder to defeat than my tests. Yes, much harder, but I promise that all my tests have been finished. You all passed, so we can now move on to the real challenge.”

  Connor saunters back to his chair, unable to hide a smirk as he winks at Troy.

 

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