Ouroboros- The Complete Series

by Odette C. Bell

  ‘Tell us what you saw,’ Varo asked softly from behind.

  Carson could have whirled on his foot to punch the guy out. It was only years of training that stopped him. Still, if Varo kept pushing, that training would evaporate.

  Nida didn't react. Instead, she kept one hand locked on Carson's. His armor told him her grip was a strong one. He didn't need the computer to note that though; he could see how frantically she held him by how white her knuckles had turned. They stood defined as perfect bone-white ridges against her dappled and pink skin.

  ‘You have been given a vision of the future,’ Varo continued. ‘Share with us—’

  ‘Shut up,’ Carson snapped, his voice like a whip.

  At the term 'vision of the future', Nida started to tremble.

  She shook so badly, Carson quickly scanned her to confirm there was nothing wrong with her muscles.

  ‘The future?’ she repeated, her voice a hoarse, croaky mess. ‘That happens in the future? No,’ she began, tears welling in her eyes. Her cheeks were now slick and wet, strands of her fringe pressed into them.

  ‘All visions from the Goddess come to pass unless we know how to stop them,’ Varo added. He still sounded calm.

  Damn that man, he still sounded calm.

  He appeared completely unaffected by what had just happened.

  And it was clear all he wanted was to pry Nida's so-called vision out of her.

  The anger built and built within Carson, bubbling up through his bones and churning through his blood.

  ‘Leave her alone,’ he warned through gritted teeth.

  ‘We must find out what she has seen so we can add it to the visions of past touched, so we can put together a full picture of our future,’ Varo continued, clearly undaunted by Carson’s growing rage.

  ‘I said shut up. Stop pushing her,’ Carson snapped his head around to stare at Varo.

  He was close, perilously close to snaking around and slamming his armored fist into that arrogant man's face.

  Something stopped him though.

  It wasn't Nida.

  It was Cara.

  She stepped forward, and without laying a hand on his shoulder to stop him, simply stared into his eyes.

  Again she used that unique, powerful attention.

  It stilled him.

  Wrapped up in it was so much wisdom and strength, it felt as if he were being reprimanded by an admiral.

  He swallowed, not blinking.

  ‘Nobody's pushing anyone. And we will give her time. But we also need to know,’ she added quietly. It was strange to hear her voice so low and measured. She seemed like the kind of woman who took everything head-on, blasting away at it with her fists. Yet now she spoke with calm, measured, almost gentle control. ‘Finding out the contents of a touched vision could change the course of the resistance.’

  ‘What?’ Carson asked simply. A far-off part of him was aware he shouldn't be so obvious in asking his questions. He had to control how he sought out information. If the people before him knew how clueless he was about facts that appeared central to Vexian culture, they would start to suspect something was wrong.

  Yet right now it didn't matter. Because Nida was a mess in his arms and he had to find out how to fix it.

  ‘The government—they hold the visions of past touched. They use them to control history. They align themselves with the winning sides of whatever battles or wars or skirmishes the touched witness. They garner information on technologies of the future. They create, they hide, they manipulate. If the resistance could find out . . .’ Cara trailed off as she glanced at Nida. ‘It could help,’ Cara finished quietly.

  Carson stood there, immobilized by indecision and shock.

  Several days ago when they had come through the time gate, Carson hadn't truly understood what this mission would entail.

  Of course he'd realized it would be hard.

  But this wasn't hard; it was bone-crushingly impossible.

  Nida stirred, and tried to pull away from him, but he still kept a hand on her shoulder.

  He wasn't going to let her fall.

  She didn't shrug out of his grip. Instead, she brought her hand up and locked it over his.

  His armor told him the warmth was returning to her fingers.

  They were still cold though.

  Yet slowly, ever so slowly, the color came back to her cheeks.

  However that shell-shocked look did not shift.

  She looked as if she'd just been through hell. Or maybe she'd seen it.

  Despite Carson's snapped warnings to Varo that they shouldn't push her, Carson now needed to know what Nida had seen.

  He looked down at her. ‘What . . . happened?’ he asked carefully.

  She didn't answer. Instead, she simply stared at him. Again it appeared as though she was no longer capable of blinking as tears still streaked slowly but steadily down her cheeks.

  He wanted to brush them away, but it was inappropriate.

  Yet his hands still did it. He pushed his armored thumb over her cheek, and she didn't pull back.

  Then silence descended.

  Varo did not command her to tell them anything, and neither did Cara ask in a deceptively soft voice to be told what Nida had seen.

  Instead, they all waited.

  ‘Nida?’ he prodded softly.

  She closed her eyes.

  She kept them closed as she pushed against him. Hooking a hand onto his head and anchoring one onto his shoulder, she pulled him down until she whispered in his ear, ‘the United Galactic Coalition destroyed,’ she answered simply.

  He straightened.

  No, he bolted upright, her hands slipping from off his shoulder and from around his head.

  All the blood drained from him.

  All the hope died too.

  Until all he could do was stand there, stock still, the shock echoing through him like blasts from a gun.

  ‘What is it?’ Cara prompted carefully. ‘What did she see?’

  Carson didn't reply. He couldn't.

  Though Cara was keen to learn of her future, Nida's vision didn't belong to her.

  Nida began to cry again. It was soft yet strangled, her tears having now dried up. But her shoulders still shook forward, her balance unsteady.

  . . . .

  She had to be wrong, he told himself.

  She had to be confused.

  She hadn't seen the United Galactic Coalition destroyed; the United Galactic Coalition couldn't be destroyed. They held the balance of power in the Milky Way. They had the strongest alliances, the strongest weapons, and the most secure solar systems and transportation routes.

  They simply could not be destroyed.

  While the Barbarians and Kore were a growing threat, they were manageable. Yes, the United Galactic Coalition had lost cruisers, yes, it had lost one or two research facilities. But that was nothing compared to the United Galactic Coalition as a whole. Made up of hundreds of planets, it was the strongest force in the Milky Way.

  Yet with one look down at Nida, her palpable shock shot through Carson's resolve.

  He doubted she was lying, and it was clear that whatever she had seen had shaken her badly.

  He swallowed.

  ‘Tell us,’ Varo said, insistence ringing through his tone.

  ‘We need to know,’ Cara agreed.

  No, they really didn't. Neither of them would know what the United Galactic Coalition was, and neither of them would be moved by the fact an enormous interstellar group from the future would one day be destroyed.

  ‘We must know,’ Varo continued. ‘Please, it is of utmost importance for the Vexians to take hold of their own future,’ he added.

  This wouldn't help them take control of their future. But if Carson chose to remain silent, he knew Cara and Varo wouldn't let up.

  So he took a breath and thought. ‘It's about . . . the eventual destruction of Vex,’ he finally said.

  It was a lie, but it wasn't really a lie.


  Vex would be destroyed in the future. While that wasn't what Nida had seen, that didn't change the fact it was true.

  Both Cara and Varo stilled.

  Their eyes drew wide.

  He watched as their expressions changed from sickly shock to outrage and then back to shock.

  ‘You lie,’ Varo tried.

  ‘He's right,’ Nida finally spoke. ‘I saw the . . . destruction of the Vex. This planet . . . something happens to it. Some kind of weapon. It destroys the surface, makes it inhospitable to life. Everything is turned to rolling dust.’

  Varo shook.

  It was the first time the man had looked truly undone. There was not a glimmer of arrogance twinkling in his eyes, and neither was there a scrap of his belligerent determination to strengthen his stance.

  He looked hollow and worn out, as if someone had scrubbed the substance from him, trying to erase his form from existence.

  As for Cara, she looked immeasurably saddened, yet she still appeared strong.

  She faced the inevitable destruction of her world, and yet she still had the resilience to hold her chin high and stare down the future.

  . . . .

  She was incredible.

  He wished he had that kind of strength.

  Yet he didn't.

  The news that the United Galactic Coalition would be destroyed . . . was unimaginable. He simply couldn't process it. He couldn't think through it. But his body could. His muscles shook, and sweat picked across his back and hands. If it weren't for his armor, he'd have fallen over long ago.

  ‘Is that all?’ Cara asked.

  Nida nodded her head. ‘Some weapon destroys your world,’ she added.

  He winced. She'd said 'your world' as if she didn't belong here. Which she didn't. But she couldn't let on about that.

  She was clearly tired and overcome—of course she was; she'd only woken up several minutes ago.

  Clearing his throat, he realized he had to take hold of this conversation before she slipped up again.

  ‘She's tired,’ he said immediately, ‘she needs to rest. Everything else can wait.’

  Cara looked at her slowly. ‘Nothing can wait. Our planet will be destroyed,’ she said simply.

  Carson nodded.

  He felt sick.

  Totally sick.

  He wanted to withdraw.

  He wanted to go back to the Farsight.

  He wanted to go back to the Academy.

  He had to get away and take Nida with him.

  But simply wishing for that would not make it happen.

  He had to push on.

  He had to find out what to do.

  Swallowing hard, he nodded his head. ‘I need to head to the Central Security Facility. I need to find out what they know. Now more than ever.’

  Cara looked at him, her expression watchful. Though her cheeks were still pale with shock, she hadn't once lost her composure.

  Again he was struck by how strong she was in the face of peril and insurmountable odds.

  He desperately needed some of that remarkable resolve now.

  And she gave it to him by nodding low. ‘I will do whatever we have to. I've pledged my support, and I will not withdraw it.’

  He closed his eyes and breathed heavily. ‘Alright. Then we need to do this. We have to.’

  ‘I do not suggest we move until night,’ Cara cautioned.

  Though Carson didn't want to hear that, he could appreciate it was sage advice.

  If they moved during the day, it would be harder to keep their operation secret. Though in the future light or dark did not matter—as numerous technologies existed to even out the odds—this was the past. In the past the cloak of night could still be warn securely over one’s shoulders as they attempted to do the unseen.

  ‘Right,’ he said firmly, glad he had a plan to clutch hold of.

  ‘There's much to prepare,’ Cara began.

  He nodded. He was in complete agreement. Or perhaps not complete agreement. While assaulting the Central Security Facility did sound like an enormous task, he hadn't exactly levelled with Cara. She didn't know about his gun, and she had no real idea what his armor was capable of. Neither did she know anything about his scanner.

  Carson's plan was still to get as close to the facility as he could, and use the scanner to do what it could. If the government kept data on the 'Goddess' or the entity, as Carson was sure people meant, in an electronic format, then the scanner would be able to hack into it from a distance and glean what it could.

  If he was dealing with paper, however, then he would have to sneak into the actual building to find it. But that wouldn’t be so hard with armor from the future, a device that gave him telekinetic power, and an actual ray gun.

  He could do this.

  He would do this.

  It was time to find the dimensional bridge.

  It was time to send the entity home and to free Nida.

  . . . .

  Because he really didn't know how much more of this she could take.

  He kept being amazed at how strong Cara was, but that was nothing compared to Nida.

  He had no real idea what she'd just endured—though she'd told him she'd seen the United Galactic Coalition destroyed, he could appreciate there was a galaxy of difference between that simple summary and what she'd actually witnessed.

  The United Galactic Coalition . . . destroyed.

  He couldn't think of it. Couldn't even begin to comprehend what it could mean.

  So he shook his head and soldiered on.

  ‘We'll make the preparations,’ Carson concluded with a nod.

  Varo was standing silently off to one side, considering Nida quietly.

  While he wasn't saying anything, Carson hated the quality of the guy's watchful gaze.

  ‘She's coming with us,’ Carson warned, fancying he could read the man's mind.

  As he said that, he stopped a twitch from travelling across his cheeks.

  . . . .

  She was coming with them.

  . . . .

  He couldn't leave her here. He just couldn't, but could he actually take her along on the mission?

  Even if she wasn't currently suffering from the effects of the entity, she wasn't exactly the best recruit in the history of the United Galactic Coalition. She tried hard, granted, and she had her own special kind of strength. But this mission would be of the utmost importance.

  It would also succeed or fail due to the abilities of the team.

  He wasn't quite sure Nida could keep up.

  Plus, if Varo were to be believed, then the government of this province would go to extraordinary lengths to secure Nida if they learned of her existence.

  Maybe Varo could sense Carson's hesitancy, because the man suddenly looked triumphant. ‘That slow, grunt brain of yours has finally realized you can't risk it, right? You can't possibly take her along. You can't put her in danger, and you can't condemn the rest of us either.’

  Carson wanted to shout at Varo that he was wrong, but the words died on his lips.

  Reality was catching up to Carson fast, and it felt an awful lot like a clap around the ears.

  What was he thinking?

  Taking Nida would be suicide. If she had another episode, she would ruin the mission.

  . . . .

  Yet if she had another episode without him by her side, what would happen then? What if the entity corrupted again, and sent every clunky, rusted metal machine flying towards her? If he wasn't there, she'd die.

  He shivered.

  He couldn't win.

  ‘We can look after her. We can take her to a secure room. One devoid of objects. My men and I are very good shots. We can protect her. Even if we have to blast hurtling projectiles from the air, we can do it,’ Varo promised.

  Carson didn't react.

  What the hell was he going to do?

  He couldn't trust this guy.

  Yet he had to get to the facility, right? He had to find out whether th
e dimensional bridge was in this time, and if it wasn't, he had to find the next time gate.

  Everything hinged on time. And no matter where he sought, he just couldn't find enough of the stuff.

  ‘Trust us like we have trusted you,’ Cara interrupted from his side.

  She weighed a hand onto his arm.

  Her touch was purposeful yet reassuring, and it did a great job of stealing away his attention.

  He looked right at her, incapable of turning away. ‘I can't . . . .’

  ‘Varo may be an idiot, but he is true to the cause. He also knows the importance of a touched. If you can trust me, you can trust him.’

  Carson simply stood there with his mouth open.

  In his armor, his knees shook.

  His heart also beat hard, sending a drum-like thump, thump up the tense muscles of his neck and into his jaw.

  He closed his eyes briefly.

  ‘I can look after myself, Carson,’ Nida suddenly said from beside him.

  It was the first time she'd spoken in a while, and it was certainly the first time her voice hadn't shaken.

  Though her expression was still ashen white, she no longer looked entirely overcome. Shaken and deeply, deeply saddened, yes, but not on the brink of breaking down. ‘If anything happens,’ she looked over towards Varo, ‘I can look after myself,’ she promised.

  He wanted to believe her.

  He couldn't.

  If it were Cadet J'Etem saying that, then maybe he could expunge the fear crawling through his gut.

  But this was Cadet Nida Harper, and although he'd now confirmed she wasn't the worst recruit in 1000 years, she certainly wasn't the best.

  She was too awkward and kind and funny and unlucky to hold herself in combat. Which wasn't a problem at all. While she wasn't really suited for the Academy, she'd blossom in other areas.

  ‘Carson,’ she said softly, trying to hold his gaze, ‘it will look after me,’ she whispered.

  It.

  Yes, it would.

  The entity. It had already proven itself capable of self-defense.

  It also appeared to know what it wanted—it had told him on numerous occasions what to do. From trusting Cara to following Harya, it had its own plan.

  . . . .

  He sighed heavily.

  ‘Go on the mission. Get the information,’ Nida encouraged. ‘I’ll be fine.’