Samuel was engrossed, but out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. A quick exit from the arena, Zak Lancelot was leaving.
‘We need to leave,’ announced Samuel and his gladiator struck a kill to the heart of Maxius’.
Maxius had lost the bet but could not afford to lose the target – Zak Lancelot.
CHAPTER 21
THE SQUALOR RETURN
The smell was familiar. For a moment Dane Vhastek imagined he was next to his beloved. A hand reached over his bare chest. He was entirely bare. The warmth of her breast at his side caught Dane off guard. Neither were wearing the translator headsets − with the activity which followed, the headsets were certainly not required. A tinge of guilt − so soon after her death − yet it felt good.
An embrace and Dane Vhastek, in true warrior fashion, started where he left off before he and Elizan fell into a deep, satisfying sleep. He could remember the evening up to a fashion − even Undarthians succumbed to alcohol. Anchorax had agreed to supply as many squalors as Dane needed, a mere formality to convince his brethren; even facing the dreaded Drayzaks didn’t deter Anchorax from a determined desire to rid Earth of the monsters in return for freedom. A heavy petting session and Dane, on cue, delivered the attention Elizan desired. She hadn’t ever made love like this and she wasn’t going to give up Dane so easily following such invigorating lovemaking.
The thought crossed Elizan’s mind that she could rule Zarduzian and take control of Earth with Dane at her side. The squalors would be her trade for a piece of Earth. ‘Who would argue with the mighty Dane Vhastek?’ she wondered.
Both fell into a sweaty strewn heap.
‘Anchorax!’ Dane shouted out, reaching for his headset at the bedside table, just one piece of luxurious furniture in the most decorative of surroundings. The silk-like sheets now draped over the end of the huge bed, discarded as a mere distraction.
‘Don’t worry, darling,’ cooed Elizan as she donned her headset. The thought occurred that one of them would have to master the other’s language to rid the use of this cumbersome apparatus, ‘He’s being well looked after.’
Dane remembered that Anchorax was raving over one of the females who waited at their table. With a click of the fingers, Elizan made sure her guests’ desires were attended to.
‘The deal is done, I must return to Earth,’ announced Dane, much to Elizan’s disappointment. She could handle his marathon lovemaking for a few days yet. ‘Did he really have to leave so early?’ she asked herself.
‘It will need planning − let’s not be in such a rush,’ said Elizan. ‘Anchorax seems as if he is becoming accustomed to his new status. Give him time to adjust.’
Dane knew Elizan talked sense but the urgency of matters on Earth took precedence. Anchorax could be the leader he needs to take on the Drayzaks, or he could become weak if he became too accustomed to this frivolous lifestyle. Dane could not afford to dwell on his actions.
‘No, we must go immediately,’ said Dane.
‘If I am to back this venture, allow you to liaise with the squalors, then I must be kept abreast with developments,’ insisted Elizan. In truth, she wanted both a part of Dane and of the rich offering of this planet Earth. It was a close call.
‘I will return with periodic updates,’ said Dane, who knew his moral obligations were important to the most significant female Larquiston had to offer if he was to be assured of continued squalor support.
‘Take me with you,’ requested Elizan.
‘Your sister asked the same and look what happened to her,’ replied Dane, somewhat forcefully.
‘I don’t care,’ said Elizan, a little angry that Dane had mentioned her sister.
‘I need to speak with Anchorax,’ said Dane dismissing her request, at least for now. ‘What of the other guests, Demitri and Patrick?’
‘They are being looked after also. Humans are an unlikely attraction, not perfect in the looks department, but a challenge. I think one or two of Larquiston’s eminent females took a liking to your friends,’ said Elizan, proud that she had entertained her guests well.
Dane rose from the bed, much to Elizan’s further disappointment; his physique was truly magnificent, the long-beaded hair irresistible − she had fallen in love. The gold tunic she provided him didn’t fit, almost ripping as he dressed, enhancing the impressive beast before her.
‘My combat suit, where is it?’ asked Dane.
‘I’ll get it brought up,’ replied Elizan. Clearly, she would have to work a little harder to convince her new love that she should join him on the mission. Elizan was used to getting her own way. ‘Dane would succumb’, she thought confidently.
Dane, with Anchorax as his pillion and two Undarthian warriors on dorkers, mounted their flying machines in the square ready to voyage over the wall for the second time, set for the quest to deliver news to the squalors of the mass migration to planet Earth. This was the key component to thwart the ground offensive, Qudor’s Drayzaks.
Dane had a separate mission in mind, to personally rid Earth of the one who murdered the mother of his unborn child, Qudor Volkan. Both were equally important but the latter would give him the greatest pleasure.
*****************************
Elizan took a stroll with Omalius on the great wall. Along the wall at various vantage points, the guards would check for possible breaches, a squalor attack to their defences, for example. The magnifying, retina-approved, image enhancers could home in on squalors as far away as ten Earth miles, with precision.
‘Ask the guard to move aside, I’d like to take a look,’ said Elizan, pointing to the vision enhancer.
‘Certainly,’ said Omalius as he strolled over to the guard. The guard saluted – the Zaagan salute odd by human standards, it entailed a straight hand but, rather than placing the hand to the side of the head, the hand is placed directly to the centre of the forehead.
‘The vision enhancer is all yours,’ said Omalius.
Elizan strolled over giving the impression that this was merely a frivolous request to break the monotony of the walk; in essence, the use of these powerful vision enhancers had been the purpose of the stroll. She peered through the machine − her retina being acceptable to any vision enhancer in Larquiston – immediately she sought sight of the dorkers, Dane’s vehicle in particular. The view was muddled; seemingly, millions of squalors dotted around the wasted and barren grounds beyond the wall, which amplified homing in on her target.
A group of squalors appearing to be saluting in the air in unison caught Elizan’s attention. It was likened to a ritual of acceptance, something to which they approve. Through voice demand, she requested the vision enhancer zoom closer. The blurry vision became sharp and she instantly recognised Anchorax.
‘It appears as though Anchorax is preaching to his followers,’ said Elizan.
‘A mere formality, if you ask my opinion, the outcome never in doubt,’ commented Omalius.
‘There − there he is,’ announced Elizan, the obvious excitement in her voice like a lovesick teenager, too obvious to disguise. Not the normal expected actions of a female in her esteemed position but someone equivalent to a 28-year-old in Earth years. Omalius, however, discarded this small detail. He knew to whom she was referring and why she was acting out of character.
‘You must be referring to our saviour, Dane Vhastek,’ said Omalius, the tone of sarcasm completely lost on Elizan.
‘They’re chanting something,’ said Elizan excitedly. ‘I think they are chanting Dane’s name.’
‘She has got it bad’, thought Omalius.
‘We must prepare a celebration gathering,’ said Elizan, the remainder of the walk suddenly seeming unnecessary.
‘Certainly,’ agreed Omalius. With his gaze to the heavens and the roll of the eyes suggested that succumbing to Elizan’s every wish, where Dane Vhastek was concerned, was becoming tiresome. ‘I’ll arrange it straight away.’ Quite how the elite would take to a second banquet in so many days was a w
orry to Omalius, but orders were orders.
As a love struck teenager might, Elizan smiled as she handed back control of the vision enhancer to the guard. The skip in her step was evidence of her delight.
‘Let’s make haste, Omalius, no time to lose,’ added Elizan.
The wall was magnificent and the view breathtaking, all of which were lost on Elizan in that moment. Smiling all the way back to the square, she simply bounded with energy and enthusiasm; Omalius had never seen Elizan so love struck.
‘May I make a suggestion?’ asked Omalius in an attempt to bring Elizan back down to planet Zarduzian. ‘Should we not wait until the warriors return before making arrangements?’
‘Where’s your sense of fun, Omalius? This is the most exciting event ever to bless our planet. This could change everything, a new beginning and a new hope. This celebration is the only event that has any meaning. I, representing Larquiston and on behalf of the other 36 capital cities, must procure the best arrangement for the future of our citizens,’ stated Elizan.
Omalius didn’t buy it but Elizan was a love struck fool who wouldn’t be swayed.
As they walked through the square amongst Larquiston’s elite − going about their business oblivious to the negotiations playing out − Omalius was summoning the munika, the key to seeing out Elizan’s wishes, to ensure a plan was actioned.
The celebration could change the dynamics of life on Zarduzian as Earth could be the new adventure. Omalius, however, dared not contemplate what Elizan had in mind. What he did know, however, was to expect the unexpected.
CHAPTER 22
THE UNDERGROUND
Samuel and Maxius followed Zak as he made his way out of the arena. Rather odd as the Hologram Arena was just heating up. Maxius had seen his warrior lose out to Samuel’s far superior fighter; he wasn’t too disappointed at this premature exit.
Samuel led with Maxius just a few metres behind, keeping a close vigil on Zak Lancelot’s movements. The crowd were frenzied; the noise level almost intolerable. The mixture of Undarthians, Zaagans, Olympianas, squalors, humans and others all sharing a common space, seemed bizarre to Samuel. The battle for control of Earth catapulted these aliens as our greatest threat and yet the common ground was a soup of unscrupulous beings, all with the same aim, taking pleasure in the seedy element of existence by fraternising with the enemy. Perhaps we had more in common with the aliens than was portrayed by the media.
With the seats stacked high and steep with exits on three levels of the tiered structure, Samuel might easily lose sight of Zak. Maxius, on the other hand, was far more vigilant.
‘He’s exiting via the middle tier,’ said Maxius. ‘Follow me, I know a quicker way.’ In Samuel’s eyes, quite how he had this insider knowledge wasn’t up for a debate right now.
The Hologram Arena had a strange exiting system. The exit pathway, that of a helter-skelter around the circumference of the arena, could be intercepted at a lower level. Maxius took advantage.
‘Didn’t expect to see anyone else leaving the arena,’ Zak said to one of the other three rebels accompanying him as he spotted the two individuals following.
‘I recognise the smaller guy,’ said Mikel. ‘Bet this is something to do with Stave.’
‘You could be right − play it cool,’ instructed Zak as they drew closer.
‘Zak Lancelot, I believe?’ asked Maxius.
‘Who’s asking?’ replied Zak, aggressively.
‘We need to talk. Is there anywhere we can talk privately, preferably away from prying eyes?’ asked Maxius, looking up at one of the security cameras. Whilst the cameras in the arena were no threat, the idea was to avoid unwanted attention; Maxius had made his point.
‘You armed?’ asked Zak.
‘Clear,’ replied Maxius, holding out his arms as Mikel frisked him. Samuel was overlooked as no obvious physical threat.
‘Robert Stave?’
Maxius nodded. ‘Your place or ours?’
‘Ours.’
Samuel, terrified and exhilarated, both in equal measures, followed the rebels. Their exit from the arena entailed a complicated meandering of the no-go zone, enough not to be noticed. This was their territory − their domain. Down the manhole, carefully concealed and quickly re-sealed to ensure the deterrence of unwelcome visitors, the five descended the dimly-lit tunnel to the rebel’s headquarters, the same headquarters Robert Stave headed to following Ansell’s gruesome death, only days earlier.
The rebels, still busying themselves fathoming alien technology, acknowledged their leader’s return with an inquisitive pause, sizing up those accompanying them.
‘Stand at ease, everyone, all’s good,’ announced Zak. The engineers immediately returned to work duties. ‘Welcome to our humble abode, gentlemen. This had better be important.’
Samuel gazed. The underground operation was quite magnificent − a mixture of exposed brick, an obvious remnant of a historic underground transport system, played off against state of the art alien technology. Samuel could learn a thing or two from these rebels − that was for sure.
‘Look, Stave’s disappeared. Could have a huge effect on both yours and our future. We’ve fucked up and sent someone after him. It hasn’t worked and we need to know what Stave had in mind when he returned to 2018. Kinda hoping you can help,’ said Maxius.
Zak paused. He sized up Maxius, rubbed his chin and turned toward Mikel, shrugging his shoulders. Mikel gave a reluctant approving nod.
‘What do you wanna know?’ asked Zak.
‘Everything,’ replied Maxius.
‘Stave was in trouble. He killed a Drayzak and his friend Ansell had been eaten alive. The drones made a move and Robert headed down here with another guy called Andre,’ said Zak.
‘Burscalli,’ added Samuel.
‘Yeah, that’s right − Andre Burscalli,’ confirmed Zak, who then stopped himself disclosing any more information as he saw a trade-off opportunity. ‘Look, what’s in it for us? Why should we help you guys?’
‘Way I see it, we’re all in this together. The Olympianas have control of this zone, hell; they have almost half of Earth’s 44 zones under control. We’re trying to put a case against the Zaagans with the Council of the Light and Stave fucked it up.’
Zak knew that although they were rebels they were still humans. ‘Yeah, we figured he might have screwed things up a little. Just to make it clear, we had no idea he was going to sabotage the time capsule. He needed a change of identity. He’d killed a Drayzak and was armed with an illegal weapon − he was history. We put him on to a surgeon, someone who, for the right price, would turn a blind eye.’
‘We know all that, we just wanna know what his intentions were,’ clarified Samuel.
‘He was into this retro stuff, you know, all the 2018 crap, when the world was a better place without the aliens − all that bullshit! He did spend some time researching archived information before his operation, but I never gave it much thought. I can trace his searches if that helps, but you guys have got to give us more cover when we are out there fighting the cause. Do we have a deal?’
‘I’ll see what I can do,’ replied Maxius. ‘At the least, we get you some more ammo, some serious techno hardware.’
Zak walked over to a techno base, a transparent screen perhaps two metres square. The terminal was split into eight sub-sections, some with live CCTV footage, some news channels and some seemingly underground non-mainstream news outlets. With a touch fingerprint recognition coded, he was into Robert Stave’s viewing history.
‘Okay, so what do we have here?’ asked Zak. ‘Stealth bombers, names of personnel and plans of the layout at Area 51 on or around 23rd February − all pretty straightforward so far. Wait, what’s this? Plutonium fused Z1845X. Hell, he’s looking at where to acquire a plutonium fused Z1845X. There are two versions, a hardware version and a digestible version. What the hell is he up to?’
‘I don’t understand,’ enquired Maxius. ‘We know about the plutonium fused Z1845X
but not about a digestible version.’
‘Back in the day, military operatives who got caught behind enemy lines would take a cyanide pill rather than be tortured and divulge military secrets. This is our equivalent, except it can take out an area several kilometres square, but why would Stave need both?’
‘He’s going into the lion’s den expecting to be captured. He wants to kill himself and destroy the alien base at the same time,’ stated Samuel. ‘He’s taken the physical bomb in case he manages to get through via a stealth bomber. The pill must be back-up. Not that any of this information is of any help to us now.’
‘Might do if Senator Adams or Klade return back to the present,’ said Maxius.
‘There’s more searching. Seems he has a distant relative – Commander Michael Stave based in Fort Lauderdale, but that just seems sentimental. This appears more important; he’s also been checking the portal amplifier, portal travel and space portals near Olympiana − all downloaded. Why portals near Olympiana? Is he looking to cause havoc there?’
‘Whatever he’s planning, one thing’s for sure, it’s not good for our present if he succeeds,’ said Samuel.
CHAPTER 23
THE BODY DOUBLE
Qudor was rudely interrupted.
‘The prisoner is restless,’ said the ship’s guard. ‘She’s awoken from the sedative and is demanding answers.’
‘Are you totally incompetent?’ asked Qudor rhetorically, ready at a moment’s notice to unleash a Drayzak or two. Looking into the eyes of the guard with fear etched indelibly on his face, Qudor could see that something needed to be done. He ushered the guard away intimating that he would follow shortly.
The date on Earth time − 2nd April 2018.
With Qudor in combat uniform, black, heavy and with a look of menace, advised his second in command that he would be a while dealing with the matter brought to his attention. The ship had seen many battles, seen many prisoners viciously detained, tortured and murdered, in the most grotesque fashion. This was what Qudor loved best, the power over an enemy − not merely to outwit or out-manoeuvre his foe but to witness the pleas for mercy as his pets demolished their tortured, weary bodies.
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