by Lysa Daley
Once I had the key, we opened the Stargate, and I got a glimpse of the world I originally came from.
In less than a blink of an eye, the Stargate activated, tearing itself open with a ferocious roar like someone ripped a hole in space and time allowing us to look through a window into another world.
I’m not sure what I was expecting to see, perhaps some Hollywood version of a sci-fi alien landscape.
But what I saw through that window was amazing — futuristic even — but not exactly alien. Three moons hung in the velvet sky. One large and very close with two smaller moons off in the distance.
A placid lake with a mirror-smooth surface cast a slight lavender reflection. Crystalline high-rise towers, like futuristic skyscrapers, stood on the nearby horizon.
I turned to Jax who was just as in awe as me. “Where is this?”
“This is your home,” he said. “It’s a small planet that orbits your birth star Asterope in the Pleiades. I’ve heard it described as a paradise, but it’s even more beautiful that I could have imagined.”
We saw a MoonEyed Blue guard, in full battle armor, moving toward the opening on the other end of the Stargate. This massive warrior, who was waiting for us, was to be my new guardian.
He was my uncle’s replacement.
All I had to do was step into the Stargate, and I’d be instantly transported across the universe to the safety of Asterope.
My uncle, like this new guardian, is also a MoonEyed Blue. My Uncle Conrad who sacrificed his entire world to make sure I was safe. How could I leave him behind?
“The Stargate will close in a few seconds,” Señora Mariposa warned me.
“C’mon, Astrid,” Jax said, motioning to me from right near the entrance. “What are you waiting for?”
I shook my head and took a giant step backward, letting the Stargate close.
I still had two more chances to open it, right?
“Astrid?” my uncle repeats, jarring me back to the command center with the Eye in the Sky crew. “You’re not sure if you have the key?”
Fitz steps up. “Where do you think you might have lost it? I can send a group to search.”
I look at this group of individuals who will do anything to keep me safe. What an amazing planet. What an incredible thing a human being with a cause can be.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Fitz tries to hurry me up.
I reach into the pocket of my jeans and pull out the small cool object that I always have with me. In my hand, the little star begins to glow. “Oh, jeez, would you look at that. I guess I had it with me the whole time.”
Chapter 45
Gripping BrightSky in one hand with the seven-sided charm key in the palm of my other hand, my uncle and I stand together in the cold evening air. There’s no breeze, and the air feels stale. We’ve stepped outside into the two-story loading dock. It’s just before midnight.
The remainder of the Eye in the Sky team clusters a few yards behind us. We’re down to a skeleton crew. Between illness, injury and desertion after the shocking public arrival of the aliens, the number of official agents has nearly been cut in half.
I’m preparing to open the Stargate. After a long discussion in the comm center, it was decided that it might be a good idea to go outside. It's hard to know what a rip in the fabric of time and space will do to the underground interior of a hotel conference room.
Probably wise to take this whole thing outside.
“Okay Astrid, now that you have the sword and key, just like last time, all you have to do is visualize the Stargate opening,” my uncle explains in a quiet but rushed voice. “The portal should materialize before us in a matter of seconds.”
He’s rushing because time is of the essence. To say the least.
Things are only getting worse in the outside world. More and more Draconian warships have filled the skies all over the planet. Reports of aliens hovering in the skies have come from over 100 countries. So far, the Draconians have not actually come down to Earth. The appearance of the giant reptilian aliens would certainly cause a full-scale global panic.
Or, should I say, even more of a global panic.
Turns out, the good people of Earth weren’t quite prepared for the arrival of extraterrestrial life just yet.
At first, I wasn’t onboard with the idea of bugging out. But now, I understand that we need to leave — ASAP — and hope that the Draconians will follow us.
The Pleiadians will be infinitely more prepared to do battle with the Draconians than all the armies of this planet put together.
“I can do this,” I say, concentrating and gripping my trusty sword even more tightly. In theory, opening the gate should be easier this time around. I've already seen what the open Stargate looks like which makes it easier to picture it again.
Almost as soon as I visualize it in my mind’s eye, I hear a deep ripping sound. When I open my eyes, I see the Stargate has materialized before us.
But something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong.
My uncle instinctively grabs my wrist and pulls me away from the gaping hole that has formed.
Unlike the first time when Jax and I saw the beautiful paradise that is the planet of Asterope spread out before us, this time all I see are flames.
The idyllic little world of Asterope is ablaze. It’s as if we’re gazing through the gates of hell.
“No,” my uncle gasps. “Those bastards!”
“What’s happening?” I ask. “Who did this?”
“The Draconians.” My uncle turns away, unable to watch the destruction that is right before us. ‘
“But, but I thought you said the people of Asterope and the Pleiades could defend against the Draconian swarm?”
No one answers me. No one has to.
Defeated, I stumble back from the open Stargate. I can actually feel the waves of heat coming through the opening. Once I’m several yards away, the hole in time and space to Asterope just closes. One instant the gate is open, the next it’s gone.
“Damn them!” Fitz is furious. “We’re trapped. They’ve boxed Astrid in.”
“The Crimson Lord wants the final confrontation to happen here on Earth,” my uncle says. “He wants it to happen soon.”
One way or the other, this whole thing is going to come to an end.
“Then there’s only one thing left to do,” I say. “If we can’t get away, then we have to go right to them.”
Chapter 46
The dark clouds of a winter storm hang low over the water of Cami Lake. The jagged shoreline with hard knifelike icicle edges looks like something from some harsh frozen alien world more than part of Southern Argentina.
What remains of the Eye in the Sky team is here on a search and destroy mission to locate and blow up the Draconian brain. Unfortunately, we may be too late.
But, attempting to destroy this brain thing is our only hope of stopping the full-scale invasion. It’s really our very last hope. Our last stand.
Forty-eight hours ago, the entire skeleton Eye in the Sky crew left D.C. and went into hiding. A good portion of the planet is on the lookout for me. And if they find me, I’ll pretty much be a goner.
It was a location so secret that even I didn’t know where we were. Because of our access to alien technology, which allows us to travel incredibly fast, I had no sense of how far we traveled.
Eventually we arrived at some sort of military training camp. But definitely not in the United States. By the look of the few foreign words on signs I suspect it may have been Belgium or the Netherlands. Dutch was my best guess, but no one would confirm or deny. We spent the entire time there preparing for this mission.
Then, a few hours ago, in the dead of night, we set out covertly for the brutal winter shores of Cami Lake just a stones throw from Antarctica.
The tall iron bulldog of a boat that we’re about to board is an ice-breaking vessel named the La Barbara Jean. There’s a small, sleek pod attached to the side of the vessel. It’s
like a tiny submarine.
Fitz points to it. “The submersible can only dive to a depth of 100 feet. At that depth, we think the water will be about 42 to 45 degrees.”
“Which is cold,” my uncle adds. “Very, very cold.”
“No kidding?” I reply, unable to hide the sarcasm in my voice.
“That water will be too cold for any of the humans and most of the non-humans to enter, even in our thickest, most insulated dive suits,” Fitz says.
“Except, of course, for me,” I say.
My concerned uncle barely acknowledges me with a nod. He isn’t happy about this mission. “We anticipate that you should only be able to withstand these low temperatures for a maximum exposure time of fifteen minutes. That’s not very long. Not long enough.”
Fitz shrugs. “It’s longer than your air will last.”
“Somehow that doesn’t make me feel better.”
Fitz ignores my concerns. “Does anyone have a better idea?”
My uncle and I remain silent.
“Okay then,” Fitz nods curtly. “Let’s just go over this one more time.”
“We’ve already gone over the grand plan ten times,” I object, anxious to just get going.
“I know, but I want the crew to hear it one more time.” Fitz scolds me. “They need to be 100% up to speed too.”
“Fine,” I relent.
“Okay, listen up,” Fitz addresses the handful of agents on the deck. “Here’s how it’s going to go. The submersible can only get us within a quarter mile of the brain. From that point on, Astrid must swim. It will be practically pitch black at that depth. And the lights we have will only illuminate an area of approximately 5 to 10 feet in front of you.
“She must find the small thermal oscillator situated at the base of the brain. The explosive pack must be attached directly to that. If she fails to attach it to the correct location, the metal superstructure of the brain will protect it from a blast.”
“Do we have a more precise estimate of how far from shore the brain is located yet?” I ask.
He nods. “It’s closer in to shore that we thought. By nearly half the distance.”
“That’s great,” I brighten at a bit of good news.
Fitz bobs his head from side to side. “Yes and no. It’s not the distance; it’s the time. Because of the severe winter conditions, we have to take the ice-breaker boat and hope that the Draconians don’t suspect anything as we approach.”
“Okay, then. How long will that take?” I follow up.
Fitz squints. “Three to four hours, assuming the weather doesn’t get worse. And by all accounts, it’s going to get worse. Soon.”
“No, no, no,” my uncle replies with astonishment. “That’s crazy. We’ll be sitting ducks out there. This is a suicide mission.”
A voice from behind us speaks. “What if we approach from underwater?”
I turn to see Jax standing on the deck. Two days ago when I last saw him, he was half-dead and totally unconscious in a hospital bed. After an initial recovery, Jax suddenly fell into a mysterious coma. As far as I understood it, when we left D.C., he remained behind to recover.
Wearing military fatigues and a heavy leather bomber jacket, Jax looks pretty healthy for a guy who recently got shot by the Horlocks.
I react with surprise. “What are you doing here?”
Chapter 47
“Didn’t anyone tell you?” He smiles like it’s no big deal. “I’m part of the mission team.”
Nope, nobody thought to mention it.
“Are you well enough?” I ask. “Last time I saw you, you were… you know… practically in a coma.”
“Arcturians aren’t just timeshifters. We’re almost the fastest healers in the universe. We can accelerate time giving our bodies the ability to recover at an increased rate,” he explains. “But in order to do that, we need to stay in a sort of hypersleep.”
“So it wasn’t a coma.”
“Not as you understand it.”
“Got it,” I nod.
Well, whatever it was, he looks like a million bucks right now.
I realize I’m staring at him and force myself to tear my eyes away.
“Jax, as for your suggestion that we approach from underwater, it’ll take too long, and it’s too far away to try to advance all the way,” Fitz responds to his suggestion.
“If we move far enough away from shore so that no one is watching us. Then we cut a hole in the ice. Astrid and I go under without the submersible. That big white pod will stand out like a sore thumb underwater. And you know it. This way, I can make contact with her and timeshift us to the location of the brain.”
“You can do that underwater?” I ask.
“The water resistance will slow me some, but not enough that you’ll be able to notice,” he explains to us.
I’m glad the rest of the group is clustered around us. I’m suddenly feeling very awkward thinking about our kiss. I know the fate of the planet literally depends on our team including Jax and me being able to work together, but I can’t seem to push my weird thoughts away.
“What’s wrong?” Jax cocks his head and furrows his brow. “You’re looking at me weird.”
“Oh,” I say, startled that he noticed. C’mon Astrid, pull it together. I act like it’s no big thing. “Sorry, I was just thinking about what you said.”
After some discussion, the powers that be — pretty much Fitz and my uncle - agree that Jax’s idea makes more sense than trying to approach over water in the bulky ice breaking boat.
But we still need to get away from shore, and any prying eyes that might be keeping tabs on us. So, despite the worsening weather and the thickening ice, La Barbara Jean slowly chugs away from the harbor.
The captain informs us that it will take 90 minutes in the slow boat to get far enough away from any spying eyes that might be watching us from shore.
With my gray parka zipped all the way up, I stand on the deck with the sharp winter wind whipping my pink ponytail around. I’m mesmerized by the impossibly white, flat horizon. There’s a harsh beauty in it that I didn’t expect.
I’m not bundled up in my jacket because I’m cold, like everyone else around me who’s desperately trying to stay warm, but because the hood and the amorphous shape provides a decent disguise.
My hand slides to my side where I feel the bulk of a diving knife holstered at my waist. This is no ordinary diving knife. It’s BrightSky cloaked into a smaller version of her full glory.
This was O’Malley’s idea. And, to be honest, I’m not sure why it never occurred to me, or anyone else, to disguise the weapon as a smaller weapon.
While we plod our way out into the lake, Jax is fitted with the warmest wetsuit they have that will still allow him to still swim with some agility.
Despite that, when he comes back out on the deck, he looks like he can barely bend his arms or legs because the heavy duty industrial strength neoprene-blend fabric is so thick.
“Don’t worry,” he assures me, reading my concerned expression. “I’ll be a whole lot more mobile once we get in the water.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” I reply, squinting uncertainly at him.
“Of course, it’s true,” he says, waving a dismissive hand. “I’ll bet you a cheeseburger from Haggerty’s that once we’re in the water, I am way faster than you.”
“Deal,” I say, thinking about how delicious a burger from the little cafe back in California would taste right now. “Plus fries and a coke.”
“You got it,” he winks.
The boat continues chugging out into the lake. The dark blue water has turned an inky black as it gets deeper and deeper.
We get lucky and find a good size break in the ice where the boat can drop anchor and stabilize itself against the rising swells.
My uncle appears from beneath the deck with a sleek military style backpack, along with the high-tech face mask/breathing apparatus that I practiced with in the pool. “This bag has the exp
losives built into it. When you get to the brain, you need to attach it to the base of the thermal oscillator. That’s all.”
I nod as I slip the backpack over my shoulder. For something that’s filled with enough explosives to destroy this massive alien thing, it’s remarkably light.
My uncle stands stock still, with his hands at his side, staring at me with a distressed expression.
“What’s wrong?”
He doesn’t reply. Instead, he pulls me into a hug and holds me for a long moment. When he releases me, he just turns and heads back below deck.
For a moment, I almost think I see a tear in his eye.
I’m not surprised that I didn’t get a big speech or any advice, or even a big proclamation of guardian love and devotion.
It’s not Uncle Conrad’s style. And that’s okay.
When I swivel back to toward the massive lake, I find a couple of tears sting my own eyes.
The weather has taken a turn. The wind has picked up, and frozen sleet blows down at a stinging angle.
As Jax and I stand at the bow, preparing for the anchor to secure us to the sandy lake floor so we can get into the water without the big iron boat slamming down on top of us, he turns to me. “Should we talk about it?”
“Talk about what?” I ask, barely able to hear him over the screaming wind.
“You know,” he replies.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I shrug and look away.
Except, of course, I do. He’s talking about our kiss.
Chapter 48
The last thing I want to talk about is that crazy kiss that happened back in the hotel’s bunker. Not to mention, he could not have picked a more awkward or inappropriate time to bring it up.
“Gosh, hurt a guy’s ego, why don’t you.” He chuckles, apparently thinking I have no idea what he’s talking about, then keeps going, “I’m referring to the other—“
“Stop,” I cut him off. “I know what you’re talking about. I think it might be better to wait to discuss any… personal… situations until later.”