Timeless (The Cartographer Book 3)

by Craig Gaydas

  Lianne stopped fidgeting with the wires and lowered her head. She remained silent for several minutes. “Where is Kedge?” she asked before slowly turning to me.

  I had to admit the question took me by surprise even though he had been noticeably absent from our group. I never expected her to ask about his fate. I knew there had been no love lost between the two. The concern in her eyes betrayed my assumptions and I hated myself for assuming the worst in her. However, when I answered her question, I shed no tears. Those days were long gone. An empty hole remained where sadness once stood on my heart. The only thing that could fill it would be satisfaction gained by destroying my enemies and the people who caused me this pain. I took a deep breath before responding and swallowed away the emotional scar left behind by his death.

  “He didn't make it,” I muttered.

  The disappointment in her eyes only caused my heart to swell with anger even further. At the moment, I made a silent pact with myself. I refused to leave Kedge behind on this godforsaken planet. I turned so fiercely to Bofor that he backed up a step and clutched his guitar-weapon defensively.

  “We are coming back to reclaim Kedge's body. I will not leave him behind to rot here.” I moved past him and looked outside the terminal. “Gather your people. Together we will destroy the order before bringing Kedge home.”

  “This isn't your fight lad,” Bofor replied. “There is no sense in getting yourself killed. We will take care of ourselves.”

  I slowly turned toward the group. Blood burned through my cheeks like lava. “This is NOW our fight. We will be back and we will return the planet to you, but not before we reclaim our friend.”

  I turned to Vigil expecting some sort of pushback or rejection of the plan. His fists opened and closed rapidly and he chewed on his lower lip, but he remained silent. I knew Lianne and Kedge did not get along, so when I turned toward her, I expected her to shake her head in refusal. She narrowed her eyes and I braced for her inevitable response. She responded, but it was not what I expected.

  “We will return,” she said softly. When she noticed my expression of surprise, she shrugged her shoulders. “Did you see the size of the holes in my ship? Someone has to pay for that.”

  Bofor nodded in resignation. “Well then, you better get going. If what you said about Jori was true, then they sacrificed themselves to take out that tractor beam. Braxii won't give you a second chance.” He turned to leave.

  “Bofor wait,” I called. I ran to him and dropped my hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for helping us when no one else would. Defeating the Order is the least we can do to repay you.”

  Bofor frowned and let out a long, drawn-out sigh. “Lad, I truly believe you believe that.” He looked past me, toward Lianne and Vigil. “Make no mistake, your friends only agree to what you propose because it will benefit your own rebellion.”

  “That's not true—,” I argued, but he interrupted me with an outstretched hand.

  “Our bonds may be iron, but our resolve is steel,” he continued. “Once we gain control of Gliese, we will not relinquish it to another tyrant. We will not repeat the mistakes of the past.”

  “I give you my word that we will leave once we are finished. We have bigger fish to fry,” I assured him.

  “I'm not sure what you're fryin,' but we will be ready.” He held up his hand with his thumb extended and his index finger pointing skyward. “Until then, be safe.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, gesturing toward his outstretched hand.

  Bofor lowered his hand and smiled. “It is a gesture of good will.” He tossed me a quick nod and walked back to his truck.

  When I returned to the ship, Lianne continued working on repairs. Vigil stared at me, but remained silent.

  “What? Nothing to say?” I asked. “You don't have a 'you're a fool for promising him those things' or any other such words of wisdom for me?”

  “You are right Nathan.” His agreement threw me off and left me momentarily speechless. “Kedge sacrificed himself so we could escape. His death will not be taken for granted nor will we let him rot here like a dead animal.”

  “Thank you,” I replied.

  “Don't thank me. It is simply the logical thing to do.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Learn to take a compliment, Spock.”

  Lianne put the soldering tool down and slammed the panel shut. She spoke to me, but continued looking down, as if she wanted to avoid eye contact. “We don't have the manpower to engage this planet in a direct assault. You made a promise we cannot keep.”

  “So we should just sit back and do nothing?” I snapped. “Perhaps the universe will fix itself in our absence?”

  When she turned to me, her expression was more sympathetic than expected. Her violet eyes twinkled and her lips curled into a wry smile. “You are no longer the naïve boy I met aboard the Argus. The universe is a dark place, Nathan. It always has been and always will be. You have the power to provide the light and guide the way.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  She leaned over and kissed my cheek. It was soft and delicate and belied the bloodstains marked on her face—stains that had been incurred during a fierce battle. The action took me by surprise, but the softness of her lips as they caressed my cheek came as a bigger shock.

  “It means you are a leader.” She straightened herself and ran her fingers through her hair. “Satou saw it in you. Embeth sees it in you. The Timeless even see it. The only one who doesn't seem to see it, is you.”

  Her statement hit me hard. Her words rang with the truth. People have been counting on me. I was needed when it came time to unlock the universal map, Vanth chose me for training, and The Timeless chose me to come to Gliese as part of the delegation. I doubted myself the entire time while others had been placing their hope in me. Before I could respond, Gard rolled out of the cargo bay.

  “Captain Lianne, the repairs on the hyperdrive have been completed. The ship should now be functional and we can depart immediately.”

  Her sympathetic tone was replaced with urgency. “Good news! Jayce round up the crew and get us out of here.”

  Jayce scrambled around the terminal, grabbing stray crew members who were either scavenging or scouting. I followed Lianne inside.

  “I guess I'll head back to my room and figure out what to do next,” I muttered.

  Lianne offered me a warm smile. “Slow down before you blow a gasket. Priority number one is getting out of here and relaying what happened here to Embeth as soon as we re-establish communication. Number two is measuring our current strength and putting your suggestion into action.”

  “Yeah, you're right.” Despite my agreement, I shrugged off her words. I realized she was trying to be supportive, but I knew I needed to be more actively involved if we were to return to Gliese.

  When I returned to my room, I slid in the seat behind the desk and removed my journal from the drawer. I placed it on top of the desk and stared at the blank cover for several moments. At first, I wasn't sure what I would write, but then I looked down at my artificial hand, a hand which had been stolen from me. I closed the hand into a fist and suddenly inspiration hit me. I opened the book and removed the digital stylus.

  I wrote.

  Moro

  His cell was damp, dark and cold. The humidity soaked into his bones. Despite his incarceration, he rather enjoyed the feeling. As an assassin, he felt at home in the dark. The detention wing of the ship wasn't always dark, so he tried to make the best of the darkness when it came. Guards flipped on the lights as they made their rounds through the halls. None of them took their patrol seriously since he had been their only prisoner. They would drift in, flip the lights on, stroll down the hall, cast him a cursory glance, and flip the lights off on their way out.

  Hours passed before he faded into the blackness of sleep. He didn't sleep long because soon the blackness faded into light, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the halls. Although he didn't know what time it was, he
knew this would be an unscheduled visit. Perhaps his time had run out.

  The main door to the detention wing opened and the detention center commander strolled in. He was a surly fellow from the planet Atrora with a lack of patience and a short fuse. Most of the bird-men of Atrora came equipped with little patience, which made them perfect for dirty jobs, like these. They don't put up with any crap from the prisoners and hold sympathy for no one. He seemed grumpier lately and Moro chalked it up to boredom. A warden without prisoners was like a child with no toys. He had nothing to play with. He greeted the commander with a sarcastic smile, but it quickly faded when he saw who stood behind him.

  “You have a guest,” the commander hissed. His high-pitched voice shredded every nerve in Moro's body.

  “Aren't I the lucky one?” Moro growled.

  With a derisive chuckle, the commander shut off the laser protection grid surrounding the door, and it slid aside with a soft whooshing sound. He stepped aside to allow Kale to enter the cell.

  Moro took one look at Kale and rolled his eyes. “Are you here to beat a confession out of me? Judging by the look of your bowl, you aren't pleased,” he added sarcastically.

  Kale turned to the commander. “Leave us.”

  The commander fixed his beady eyes on Kale and shrugged. “Whatever, but first I will need you to step inside so I can reactivate the grid.” He pointed a clawed finger at Moro. “We don't need that one escapin'.”

  Kale waved his hand dismissively. “Fine.”

  After re-engaging the laser grid, the commander stomped down the hall and slammed the door. When Kale was sure the commander was gone, he turned to Moro.

  “I assume they are treating you well?”

  “Not as well as you,” Moro grumbled.

  Kale removed a small silver cylinder, no bigger than a pen. He circled the room, waving the cylinder up and down, tracing the architecture of the wall. When he reached the bed, he stooped down and waved the object underneath.

  “They don't have any listening devices,” Moro assured him. “They haven't exactly provided me with legal counsel or conjugal visits from the Sirens of Meridian Five.”

  Kale stood up with a sigh. “It never hurts to be cautious. Perhaps, if you had done the same, we wouldn't be standing here right now.”

  His statement stung Moro, but he refused to show it. His miscalculation regarding Calypso was a sore spot. He bit back a retort and lowered his eyes.

  Kale removed his helmet to reveal his true identity of Scribe. He adjusted the scarf that covered the lower half of his face and ran his fingers through his hair. “I hate wearing this damned thing. I cannot linger here for long because Calypso has his eye on me.”

  “You have been compromised?” Moro asked.

  Scribe shook his head. “No, but I'm sure Calypso has his suspicions.”

  “So why are you here?” Moro shifted his weight and took a seat at the edge of the bed. The shackles dug into his wrists, but he refused to acknowledge the pain.

  Scribe frowned at the shackles. “It seems those are a bit of an overkill, don't you agree?”

  Moro shrugged. “Not really. They know I will kill them with my bare hands.”

  Scribe offered him a wry smile. “They are probably correct. Anyway, to answer your question, I am here to discuss recent changes as a result of your capture.”

  The words were like a slap to the face. “Come to rub salt in the wound, huh?” Moro grumbled.

  Scribe turned serious. “Not at all.” A dull gray object slipped from his palm and fell to the floor with a clatter. It was a smooth round cylinder with two magnetic contacts on the end—the key to his shackles. “I wanted to let you know the situation has changed. Gliese has joined the ranks of the Consortium. Calypso has upped the ante, and he will collect by using you as a bargaining chip with Ibune. She will be forced to comply because it is either tyrant-governed peace or the imminent demise of The Timeless. We are sorely outnumbered and outgunned to the point that Mortem's outrageous suggestion has been voted on and passed.”

  Moro looked up from the key. His eyes were filled with disbelief. “Surely, there is another way! Mortem's ideas are an abomination.”

  Scribe slid the bowl helmet over his head before nodding his agreement. “I agree with you, but we have no choice. The only thing we can do now is to eliminate certain factors which may play in Calypso's favor.” He slammed his fist against the wall. “I'M READY TO GO,” he shouted.

  The commander entered the cell block even surlier than before. “Alright, I'm comin,' calm yerself.”

  Moro extended his leg and dragged the key toward the bed using his foot. He kept it covered with his foot so the commander wouldn't see it when he shut off the security grid. As soon as the grid shut down, Scribe stepped out. The commander removed the key from the slot and the grid sprang to life.

  Before he left, Scribe turned to Moro. “Do not forget what we discussed. Much hinges upon your decision. The future of the Consortium, as well as your Insurgents, counts on your decision.”

  They left, but not before the commander tossed a final sour look at Moro. The door closed and darkness once again descended upon him. He slid his foot closer to the bed. The key made a dull scraping sound against the floor. Within the dark confines of the cell, it sounded like someone was dragging a dagger across the metal floor. He felt around the darkness until his shackled hands found the key which was cold to the touch. With a simple swipe of his hands, the magnetic leads in the key would unlock the cuffs. He didn't immediately unlock them, instead focused his mind on Scribe's words.

  “Eliminate certain factors which would play in Calypso's favor,” he had said. Moro knew what he had to do. He turned the key in his hand and bent his wrist, running the end of it over the cuffs. They fell to the floor with a metallic thud. He rubbed the soreness from his wrists and leaned back against the bed. “Thank you Scribe, I am ready,” he whispered to the darkness before doing the only thing he could do at the time.

  He waited.

  The Voyage of the Humans

  Stellar Horizon

  This is just my second entry in this journal. I'm not completely sure what my goal is outside of simply writing my thoughts down and recording them for the future. This entry is being written with a heavy heart. Our mission to Gliese was a failure and I lost someone I had considered a mentor. We are on our way to rendezvous with the scattered remains of our forces. Not all news is bad, however. Embeth and Ibune have established a base on Vaire. The Hydrophants have routed the remaining Shreen forces threatening their ocean borders, allowing safe passage for the Insurgents. Their underwater facilities allow a secure base from which to coordinate our activities. I would still trade it all for the chance to hold Deena's hand one last time, to laugh at one of Satou's bad jokes, or to stand side by side with Kedge again.

  We were able to escape Gliese without resistance from the Order, which means, it is another life debt I owe to Yori and Jori. I vowed to Bofor that we would return and make things right on Gliese, and it is one vow I do not plan on breaking.

  A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. I placed the stylus down and shouted, “Come in.”

  Lianne strolled in with a broad smile on her face, carrying a small black box, no bigger than a tissue box. She had removed her Defense Fleet uniform earlier and put on something a bit more casual—loose fitting cargo pants and a silver sweatshirt with the familiar gold star and comet logo of the Fleet emblazoned on the front.

  “You certainly look cheerful today,” I quipped.

  She placed the box on the desk and pulled up a chair. The top half of the box was connected to the bottom half by a gold hinge. “I am,” she replied. “I bring you some good news for once.”

  “Is this an early Christmas present for me?” I countered with a wry smile.

  She chuckled. “You could say that. Go ahead and open it.”

  I lifted the lid. Inside was a circular white object with a digital screen embedded in the center. It
was no bigger than a hockey puck, but when I removed it from the box, it was much heavier and constructed from some sort of solid metal.

  “What is it?” I asked, turning it over in my hands. “It's a little heavier than it looks,” I remarked before setting it back down on the table.

  Lianne stood up and slid over to my side of the desk. She leaned over my shoulder to reach a switch on the side of the object. As she did so, her auburn hair fell off onto my shoulder. It smelled like a combination of cinnamon and apples. I closed my eyes and breathed deeply, recalling a time back home when my grandmother used to bake her famous apple pie. The aroma carried me back to a happier time in my life and I embraced it with open arms. I opened my eyes when Lianne's slender neck touched my shoulder lightly. She stared at me through bright lavender eyes. I had a sudden overwhelming urge to lean over and kiss her, but resisted when I saw the look of concern in her eyes.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  I snapped out of my trance. “Oh yeah…I'm ok.” I felt a flush creeping into my cheeks and I turned away quickly. “I was…um…just thinking about something.”

  She leaned back, cleared her throat and guided my attention to the object. “This is a Talaan, a Kamilian-made recording device.”

  “So are you going to start recording me now?” I tossed her a sly look, but it melted away when she flashed me a scowl.

  “Do you think I don't trust you?” she replied.

  My attempt to flirt had backfired horribly. I raised my hands in the air innocently and tried to diffuse the situation. “No, that's not what I meant at all. What I meant was…um…well ah…,” I stuttered.

  Her scowl faded and changed into a wide smile. “Ah-ha! I really had you going there for a minute!”

  My jaw dropped. “Oh my God! Lianne you DO have a sense of humor!”

  “Occasionally,” she said with a shrug. “But don't tell anyone; I wouldn't want my reputation to be harmed in any way.” Her eyes drifted to the Talaan and she folded her arms across her chest in a triumphant pose.

  I turned to see a holographic image of a ship hovering three inches above the Talaan. The ship was odd in design. It had a bullet-shaped hull with three smaller oval decks attached. The holographic image glowed with a ghostly green color, which made the ship look as if it were floating in a pile of green Jell-O. Several smaller V-shaped ships escorted it towards the planet.