Timeless (The Cartographer Book 3)

by Craig Gaydas

  “Don't ever do that again,” gasped Cantrell, trying to catch his breath. He paused when he saw Kedge's corpse. “It looks your friend here died with satisfaction on his face.”

  I whirled on him, my cheeks flush with anger. “Satisfaction? It looks like he was run over by a bus. Would you be satisfied?”

  Cantrell held up his hands. “Whoa, slow down, sparky. I am simply implying that his goal was to stop the enemy long enough to allow you to escape. You got away, so he accomplished what he set out to do.” He crouched over the corpse. “Take your tampon out, stop whining, and help me figure out how we are gonna get him back to the shuttle.”

  My rage boiled over to the point I had to control myself from reaching over, shoving my rifle down his throat, and pulling the trigger. I calmed down because I knew he had a point. Before I could bend down to grab him, a loud humming sound came from somewhere above us. When I turned toward it, my heart sank.

  “Lay down your weapons and kneel on the ground!”

  Five floating skiffs appeared above us, filled with soldiers from the Order of the Sun. Guns as big as bazookas had been mounted on the rails which were currently pointed at us. A man in the lead skiff was dressed in robes similar to Mazu and held a cylindrical object that looked to be some kind of microphone.

  “This is Tialoc, Minister of Emerald Quarry and on behalf of the Order of the Sun, I demand your unconditional surrender!”

  Hiro and Athew finally caught up to us. “Oh, unconditional surrender he says,” grumbled Athew. “In that case, let me drop my drawers.”

  Cantrell's finger twitched on the trigger of his rifle, as if he was contemplating our chances of survival. Based on the fact there were at least thirty soldiers aboard the skiffs, I calculated our chances of survival and came up with a negative number.

  “I hate to admit, but I have a real hard time surrendering,” Cantrell replied. “My mother always told me I was stubborn.”

  “I'm sorry to tell you this, but as you can see, I have a bum knee,” grumbled Athew. “I won't be able to kneel for ya.”

  The skiffs landed roughly thirty yards away. I had been mistaken about the ships being loaded with soldiers. Forlorn slave faces gazed at us from behind the oversized steering controls. Two slaves piloted each skiff and I was astonished at the trust the Order placed in the hands of slaves. The population had proven its disdain for the government and it only took a single determined slave to steer the skiff into a cliff side, into the ocean, or straight into the Badlands. Fear had been a powerful tool to keep them in check. Forcing them to watch as their liberators were captured was simply icing on the cake.

  “I told you this was a suicide mission,” Cantrell whispered. “We put up the good fight, kid, but the good guys don't always win in the end.”

  It was over.

  I had been cradling Kedge's head during the entire exchange. I placed his head gently on the ground and stood up when I heard the clicking sound of a rifle being cocked.

  “Surrender is not an option,” Hiro explained with a shrug as he curled his finger around the trigger.

  Athew removed his arm from Hiro's shoulder and fell to the ground, clutching his knee in pain. “Go get 'em. Make sure you shoot straight for once.”

  I removed the last mobile turret from my pocket and turned it over in my hand, deep in thought. The tree line was too far away to make effective cover and the open field where we currently stood offered none. If I deployed the turret, it would not only take out the Order's soldiers, but us as well. It was indeed suicide. “I hope our sacrifice will be worth it in the end,” I muttered.

  Cantrell laughed. “I suppose it all depends on whether people will celebrate on our graves or piss on them.”

  The skiffs landed and the soldiers poured out of them with their rifles trained on us. A few remained behind to man the cannons. If I deployed the turret right at that moment, it would take out most of them based on their close proximity to each other. I cocked my hand back, but before I could toss it, an explosion rocked the skiff furthest from us.

  Confusion and panic took over. Athew remained on the ground with his lips forming a comical O. Hiro backed away, keeping his rifle trained on the closest skiff.

  “Take cover!” Cantrell shouted, pointing towards the trees.

  Hiro and Cantrell grabbed Athew by the arms and dragged him toward the trees. As I hurried after them, I turned around and glanced back to make sure no one was following us. The explosion took everyone by surprise. The soldiers scattered in an attempt to locate their newest adversary. The screams of those who had been caught in the burning skiff reverberated so loudly through my helmet that I thought I imagined it until the first flaming bodies exited the wreckage and ran circles around the other soldiers. I couldn't watch the horror any longer and as I turned to follow Cantrell and the others, I ran into something that was as solid as a brick wall. I tumbled to the ground which caused my weapon to fly out of my hands where it landed several feet away.

  I thought I had hit a tree until I looked up to see an eight foot tall bear, decked out in metal shoulder pads and a breastplate, wielding a giant two-headed hammer. With a look of surprise, he slung the hammer over his shoulder and smiled.

  “Better get out of the way unless you want to get trampled,” he stated.

  Arcturus moved aside and I scrambled to retrieve my weapon. Cantrell and Hiro approached me with Athew in tow. Arcturus was right. It had been lucky I moved, because behind him came Vayne and his crew of mini-Vayne's, rushing from the woods. Vayne gripped a pistol in each hand, firing upon the skiffs with fine-tuned precision and cool calculation. His crew, however, was nothing more than an uncoordinated band of hooligans. They fired wildly and shouted random obscenities to no one in particular. They seemed to be present more for distraction and intimidation than anything else. Their shots were random, hitting nothing but sky, ground, and tree.

  Arcturus charged the nearest skiff. He lifted his hammer and brought it down in one vicious stroke, smashing the front into a pile of scrap metal, while sending the pilots scrambling for cover. Another explosion rocked the second skiff. Embeth emerged from the woods armed with a shoulder-mounted rocket launcher. Vigil followed him, firing his wrist weapon upon the scattered soldiers.

  Cantrell and Hiro propped Athew against a nearby tree and joined the battle. Soldiers from the third skiff fired the cannons on our position. I rolled out of the way as the cannon fire struck only feet from where I once stood. The blast created a basketball-sized crater that one of Vayne's minions could not avoid in time. He crawled out of it, muttering curses, brushed himself off and continued towards the enemy, as if nothing had happened.

  “This is insanity,” I groaned as I surveyed the chaos surrounding me.

  I trained my weapon on the nearest cannoneer. My aim was off, but nonetheless effective. Even though I was aiming for the gunner, I hit the cannon instead, creating a shower of sparks and metal fragments that made him duck for cover. The distraction allowed Vayne and his minions to overtake the skiff.

  “LET THE GAMES BEGIN!” Vayne shouted. He wrestled control of the cannon and fired on the fourth skiff, sending soldiers and pilots scattering toward the woods.

  I spotted Tialoc boarding the final skiff. He barked orders at the cowering pilot, who scrambled to get back into the pilot's chair. It appeared the Minister was trying to escape. I could not allow that.

  I bolted past Arcturus, who was in the middle of putting the final destructive touches on the first skiff, turning it into nothing more than a charred slab of scrap metal. Soldiers turned their weapons on me as I ran past them, but I ignored them. I had to get to Tialoc. Fortunately, most of Vayne's minions weren't too far behind me, and they took down the few soldiers who had their sights set on me.

  I reached Tialoc's skiff as it started to ascend. I grabbed the side of the vehicle and hung on as it continued its launch. It ascended about six feet in the air before I was able to hurl myself over the side railing, where I landed fa
ce down on the floor.

  “What the…?” Tialoc exclaimed. The Minister was unarmed and his eyes scanned the area for a weapon. There was nothing standing in the way between us, except a single slave pilot.

  I pulled out my handgun and pointed it at him. “Land this thing now!”

  Tialoc narrowed his eyes and grinned. His mouth was full of white teeth wrapped in golden braces. It was just another sign of the Order of the Sun's expensive tastes acquired upon the backs of the oppressed. His smile was nauseating and it took all my willpower to not carve a peephole in his forehead.

  “I don't think that is going to happen,” he purred. “Do you people not understand who we are? This is our planet and we will not let you outsiders ruin what we have built here. Your false doctrine and sweetened lies will not sway the people to your side.”

  “You already conspire with liars. Calypso and this false Consortium are one big lie. You have made your bed and we're here to make sure you lie in it.” I turned to the pilot. “Is this what you want?”

  “Do not address him!” Tialoc shouted.

  I ignored him. “Your people have died fighting the Order. You deserve to be free, not grovel before these people, like some sort of dog. Right now your people are out there dying for the cause.”

  “What cause is that?” the pilot asked. He fumbled at one of the buttons of his Order-supplied uniform, as if he was having an allergic reaction to it. Underneath, I witnessed the pale gray of his slave collar poking out. He quickly straightened his uniform collar and caressed the sunburst logo of the Order of the Sun.

  I was momentarily shocked into silence. Either the Order brainwashed this poor kid (who couldn't have been older than me, by the way) or he was extremely naïve. Either way, I was treading dangerous ground here. There were only three of us aboard the skiff and I may have falsely believed I held the advantage. I needed to diffuse this situation and do it quickly, otherwise, what I originally perceived as a two against one in my favor, may turn against me.

  “The cause is freedom.” I answered. “Everyone deserves the right to be free.” I gestured toward Tialoc. “What makes them so special?”

  “Our devotion to Brasus makes us special,” Tialoc growled. “To be a part of the ministry requires a long, rich heritage of service. He is no more a slave than I am. I serve a higher power, as does he.”

  “I used to believe in a higher power too,” I explained. “Until I expanded my horizons and witnessed the wonders of the universe, I believed that God created us and watched over us.” I turned to Tialoc. “But how could God, or any god for that matter, allow an entire species to be destroyed? How could there be so much sadness and pain, if there is a God?”

  “I don't need to explain how Brasus works to the likes of you,” Tialoc sneered.

  I nodded slowly. “You're correct. We call that the freedom to express yourself.” I pulled the trigger. Tialoc's face shattered in a cascade of blood and bone. He dropped to the floor in a bloody heap. I turned the gun on the pilot, whose ashen face looked on in horror. “Land this thing.”

  The pilot immediately complied and landed the skiff near the woods. Embeth hurried over and frowned when he looked upon Tialoc's corpse.

  “Have much trouble with that one?” he asked.

  “Nothing I couldn't handle.”

  Embeth grunted and lowered the rocket launcher. “I just received a report from Lianne that the attack upon the palace has been a success. They have trapped the Prophet and his people inside and are about to break through their defenses.” He turned his gaze upon the terrified pilot. “What about this one?”

  I turned toward the pilot with the gun held tightly by my side. “Will you at least think about what I said?”

  The pilot nodded, but remained silent.

  “Go,” I urged. “Go and tell the others what has happened here. Tell them that Gliese will need the rebels now more than ever.”

  The pilot nodded and ran off into the woods. I turned to Embeth. “You realize the Prophet is going to use the evacuation tunnels to escape, right?”

  “Horus has that covered,” rumbled Arcturus. He strolled over to us, carrying his hammer in his right hand and dragging an unfortunate enemy soldier behind him in his left. He tossed the man to the ground in front of the skiff. “Found this one skulking behind the remains of that skiff over there.” He flipped a thumb over his shoulder toward a skiff that was barely recognizable. “Based on the bars on his collar, I would say he is a high ranking officer.”

  “Don't expect me to beg for my life,” the soldier balked. “Brasus will honor me for dying on the battlefield.”

  About ten soldiers survived the battle, including the officer. The other nine were lined in a row, on their knees with their hands clasped behind their back. Vayne circled them, with his weapons cradled eagerly at his side, as if he hoped someone would get out of line so he could take pleasure in gunning them down.

  “It is over,” I stated and turned my attention to the officer. “The government of Gliese will be returned to the people. The Order of the Sun is no more.”

  The officer appeared ready to argue the point, but thought better when Arcturus growled behind him and slapped the head of the hammer against his palm. Hiro approached us, holding up Athew for support. Behind him, Cantrell approached cradling Kedge's body.

  “I think we are done here. Shall we complete our mission?” he asked.

  I hopped off the skiff and removed my helmet. I wanted to look upon Kedge one last time with my own eyes.

  “I remember the first time we met,” I said, speaking to no one in particular. “On Xajax, we met for the first time as enemies. Today, we leave each other as friends.” A tear trickled down the side of my face and I flicked away like a bothersome gnat. “Goodbye friend.”

  “Hiro, do me a favor and go back and get the shuttle,” he said. “I can't carry him all the way.”

  I found it mildly surprising that he offered no snarky reply to my comment and instead, chose to remain businesslike in his demeanor. I wanted to thank him for it, but decided against it. I didn't want to push the envelope, as they say.

  Hiro returned with the shuttle about an hour later. Cantrell loaded Kedge onto a pull out cot located at the back of the ship. Hiro struggled to load Athew into a seat, so I moved over the assist.

  “Damn it, I feel like an old lady,” Athew complained. “Soon you two will be fighting over who gets to wipe my butt.”

  “I doubt that,” I replied and snapped the buckle into place.

  “Quit your bellyaching,” Hiro said. “Just be lucky we don't shoot you like a gimp horse.”

  Cantrell emerged from the back of the shuttle and took the controls. I slipped into the seat next to Athew and closed my eyes. I didn't close them to sleep (I may never sleep again, after all that's happened). I closed them so I could drown out everything around me and meditate on everything that had taken place.

  I had murdered two men. That thought, in itself, was disturbing, but I found my thoughts drifting to Mortem and his zombie brigade. Originally, I had been appalled by his “experiments”, but the more I thought about our current situation, from a tactical standpoint, the more I realized we would need him. I had no clue how many soldiers he had, but there would be no denying their power. I had a target in the back of my mind for a while, but I thought a direct assault by us would only result in a failure of epic proportions. With Mortem in the mix, I revisited our chances. I needed Sam's help. With his engineering prowess, Grillick's inventions, and the tools of the Cartographer, coupled with Mortem's army, there was only one logical target left—one that would end this conflict for good.

  I glanced at Cantrell, who fumbled over the steering controls. He must have felt my eyes on him because he looked over at me. “One target,” I repeated out loud.

  “I'm sorry?” he replied with a confused expression.

  I looked down at my clenched fist, a hand I had lost long ago, courtesy of Shai. “We have just one target left b
efore this conflict comes to an end.”

  “Oh yeah, what target is that, General Chambers?” Cantrell scoffed, his lips twisting into a wry smile.

  I placed my clenched fist on the armrest and looked at him with such ferocity that his smile melted. For the remainder of my life, I would never forget the look on his face when I uttered the word. For the first time since I met him, he appeared dumbstruck.

  Caelum.

  Final Ride

  Gordian Knot Conference Room 7

  There had been times when I wished I was a better orator. Sometimes I wondered if things would have turned out different had I been an Abraham Lincoln or Winston Churchill—someone who could inspire people during periods of tension and conflict. Time and hands-on experience make powerful mitigating factors in improving oneself. I could simply point to my speech to the rebels as an example of my improved oral persuasion skills. None of that mattered at the moment, however. I suggested something so completely outrageous that I truly believed the people in the room would denounce the idea before the final words fell from my lips.

  But they didn't.

  Instead, the room fell silent for a long time. Eventually, Ibune broke the silence when she stood up and placed her palms on the table. “Just so I am clear, you are suggesting a direct assault on Caelum?”

  The battle on Gliese came to an end not long after we left the planet's surface. Lianne and her forces succeeded in taking the palace. She had been able to take the Prophet and his henchmen as prisoners due to Horus' effective work in sealing off the emergency escape. Bofor rallied the rebels and a temporary government had been put into place, led by Yori's cousin, Kreel. Horus agreed to stay behind and assist with the transitional government. Most of the news was good, but there was something hidden within Ibune's expression that cast a doubtful shadow over everything.

  “Yes,” I replied. “This may be the best opportunity we have to strike.” I addressed each of the other members in the room. “We have Mortem's army. I have seen them up close and they are very effective.”