The Second Renaissance Series Boxset

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The Second Renaissance Series Boxset Page 14

by Paul Heron


  ‘Your speed, agility, accuracy, and your technique – they’re unlike anything I’ve ever seen.’ He rubbed his hands together, grinning. ‘We haven’t actually spoken much about our enhanced abilities. It’s not like we’ve had the time. But after watching you two in action – Marcel, Carolina – I have no doubt that we’ve all got some pretty cool skills.’

  ‘What happened is this,’ Scarlett said, approaching them with an apple in her hand. ‘We all know The Dark Lord’s powers spilled into Elisabetta when she created the sculpture. Since she passed into The Otherworld, she’s been seated at the table with The Tuatha de Danann. So you’re all now part of the old tribe.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Mohammad said.

  ‘We’re all demi-gods,’ Ajit snapped. ‘Keep up.’

  ‘I can control animals big whoop.’ Mohammad clicked his finger, then pointed his index at Ajit. A bird swooped down from the sky, lifted Ajit’s glasses and flew off again.

  ‘These abilities were just the beginning.’ Scarlett cleared her throat, looking at Mohammad. ‘Give Ajit his glasses back.’

  The bird dropped Ajit glasses onto the grass.

  ‘Your powers have not completely manifested themselves yet.’ Scarlett continued. ‘Usually around the age that you are soon approaching: Eighteen. You seven will be the future governors of The Ministry of Mythology.’

  ‘We already look like bloody politicians with these suits on.’ Ajit lifted his glasses from the ground, steamed them with his breath and wiped the glass before putting them back on again.

  ‘Exaclty,’ Scarlett said. ‘I’m excited to see what you can all do in time.’ She looked at Ringo. ‘We’re surrounded by seven demi-gods.’

  ‘Stop it you’re making me blush!’ Mohammad joked.

  ‘Any way what’s Michael’s big idea?’ Carolina said.

  ‘As a way for us to pass the time before we leave for Mexico, I’ve got something we can do. A demonstration.’ There was a group wide lack of enthusiasm, like it was going to be similar to George’s icebreaker.

  ‘What demonstration?’ Marcel asked.

  ‘We’ll draw straws, and in order of who draws the shortest straw, we’ll demonstrate our ability for the rest.’

  ‘Elisabetta gave you her powers, Michael, ’ Scarlett said. ‘You can do pretty much whatever they can do. That’s why you're the leader. It comes with the territory. As Anthony said, you’re the one people have always wondered about. Was such a person real, or not: someone who lives in this world and has direct contact with The Otherworld.’

  ‘Well that’s not fair,’ Mohammad griped. ‘Why does he get it all?’

  ‘I don’t know, Mohammad,’ Scarlett replied. ‘Why has Elisabetta chosen him? He’s the one she chose, and he’s the one they’ll be after the most. So the rest of you...’ She pointed at each of them individually. ‘You six, make sure you’re around when things kick off.’ She looked at Michael. ‘I’m sorry, Michael. I’m not trying scare you.’ She looked at the rest again. ‘He'll be the one Mancini Corporation will want first. They’ll not want to get you caught by the authorities of this world, they’ll probably want to use you, if they know there's something special about you.’

  ‘So what about this little game you want to play?’ Ajit said.

  Mohammad mumbled, ‘he just wants to show off his skills.’

  ‘Nobody likes a show off, Michael,’ Carolina said.

  ‘Well, do either of you want to lead this group?’ Michael snapped. ‘Because I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t even want to come to Little Camberly.’ Nobody responded. ‘No? No one? You just want to complain and hold a grudge? Fair enough.’

  He lifted a few twigs from the grass. He gave them to Ringo, asking him to snap them into seven different sizes. Ringo did so, then held his closed fist out with each piece protruding. They all chose a piece.

  Sofia drew the shortest.

  Michael looked at Ringo. ‘Let’s get this brian in action.’

  Sofia gave Michael an evil look, more out of inconvenience than of fear. She had more than enough confidence in her ability. Perhaps more so than the rest. One would have thought, her being a Sirani, that she would have been the leader.

  ‘Okay, hold on... Let me check Google translate. I want to hear some language skills.’ Ringo said.

  ‘There is no Google translate. Only Sirani translate,’ Ajit said, an angelic grin smeared across his face.

  ‘Okay, Sofia. Say hello in...’

  ‘Troppo facile. Sono annoiato,’ she mumbled in Italian below her breath.

  Michael laughed.

  ‘What did she say?’ Ringo looked to Michael for the answer.

  ‘She said that’s too easy and she’s bored.’

  ‘Okay, smart ass... Ringo is a magnificent man, in Spanish?’

  ‘Ringo es un hombre manifico.’

  ‘In Portuguese?’

  ‘Ringo um homom manifico.’

  ‘Italian?’

  ‘Please...’

  They all laughed.

  ‘Chinese,’

  ‘Shi yigezhuangguan de ren.’

  ‘Russian?’

  ‘Ringo velikolepnyy muzhcina.’

  ‘Your head’s getting too big, Ringo!’ Carolina laughed.

  ‘I’m loving it!’ Ringo grinned ‘Macedonian?’

  ‘Ringo eden prekrasen cavek.’

  ‘Romanian?’

  ‘Ringo este un om magnific.’

  ‘Arabic?’

  ‘Ringo hu rajul rayie. Sahl jiddaan. Dosadno mie.’

  Michael laughed.

  ‘What did she say?’ Ringo became worried with Michael being the only one who could understand her.

  ‘I said I’m bored. This is too easy,’ Sofia said.

  ‘Okay, that’s enough proof for she,’ Ringo said. ‘You’re one smart lady.’

  ‘Gifted by the gods, don’t forget.’ She said.

  Ajit had the second shortest straw.

  ‘But my demonstration is what Ringo is holding in his hand,’ Ajit said. ‘I have already demonstrated my skill; there is nothing else I can do.

  Mohammad was next.

  ‘I’m the animal god,’ Mohammad shouted. ‘That means I’m exempt, too, don’t anger me!’

  ‘Actually, Mohammad. I’ve got a surprise for you,’ Scarlett grinned, throwing the apple core down on the table.

  ‘What?’ His smug grin dropped. His face was one of shock, terror perhaps.

  ‘I have an advanced security system here; electronic, human, and animal. But my guard dogs are by far the most terrifying. I have a family of Rottweilers that can smell the blood under our skin. To them, we’re just dinner on legs. Come with me.’ She looked back at the group, rubbing her hands.

  Full of fear and worry for Mohammed’s safety, the group followed Scarlett towards a wooden shed at the corner of the garden.

  It was like a cottage of it’s own with wooden walls and a porch. A red sign on the door said Beware – Killer Dogs. As Scarlett typed the pass code into the electronic lock, vicious snarls and barks bellowed from the other side of the door.

  ‘It’s probably better if you all stay close to Mohammad. Michael, you should be okay.’

  Michael wasn’t sure if he felt as confident now. Sure, he understood languages, could fight, swam the lake like a fish. But animals? Well, they were unpredictable.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Sofia said, hearing the dogs.

  ‘I need the toilet,’ Ajit hissed.

  Scarlett threw the door open and stepped aside as four muscular Rottweilers exited.

  ‘Oh!’ Ahmad mumbled. He and Ringo slowly backed away from the group, not caring about looking like cowards. The dogs were clearly bred to be killers. Their canines looked like they’d pierce a car tyre.

  ‘Scarlett, what do you feed these things? They’re more like lions,’ Mohammad shouted. The group separated.

  ‘They eat bad men,’ she laughed. ‘And Fomorians.’

  Carolina screamed and jumped behind Marcel
.

  Sofia followed.

  Marcel struggled to maintain his tough guy exterior. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead.

  Before anyone knew what happened the dogs all changed their appearance. Their legs grew an extra foot long, their muscular torso’s expanded as if they were filled with air, their facial bone structure elongated, their eyes turned a colour of blood red and their teeth grew three time too big for their mouths. They ran at Mohammad, but within ten feet of him, the sound of gun shots sounded, one by one, the dogs all exploded into red sparks, dissolving into the air. There was a momentary silence.

  ‘What the hell was that?’ Marcel said.

  ‘You weren’t joking about them eating Fomorians, were you?’ Michael said.

  ‘That’s what we have to worry about.’ Scarlatt stood with a gun in her hand.

  Finally, they could all exhale. Ajit arrived back from the toilet.

  ‘Good show!’ Ringo chuckled. ‘Okay, let’s go back to the table. I’m excited to see what’s next.’

  ‘There are only three people left,’ Ringo said, eyeing Michael, Marcel, and Carolina.

  Michael reminded himself that he’d been invincible lately. He’d hope his luck wasn’t about to change. He didn’t want to be the leader and get his ass whopped by one of the others.

  Carolina and Marcel both had the same length straw. Both shorter than Michael’s.

  Marcel nudged Michael with his elbow. ‘Excited to watch us?’

  ‘Don’t hurt yourself,’ Michael said.

  ‘Okay, we’ll go together.’ Marcel looked at Carolina. They both looked excited at the prospect of combat against eachother.

  ‘It’s your funeral,’ she said.

  ‘You’re lucky it’s not you,’ Marcel teased Michael, as he and Carolina made their way towards the centre of the grass area. ‘I would have given you a lesson in Brazilian style combat.’

  Michael felt pressed by Marcel's remark, a little embarrassed. He felt his face and neck heat up. Taking in a lengthy breath, he sighed and got up off his seat. ‘Okay, screw it! I’ll fight both of you. Together. At the same time.’

  ‘What are you doing, Michael?’ Sofia said.

  ‘Are you crazy, Michael?’ Ajit shouted. ‘Our leader can’t get his ass kicked. It’ll be bad for morale.’

  ‘Man, I wish we had popcorn,’ Mohammad said, not the slightest bit worried for anyone’s safety.

  ‘Are you sure?’ Marcel asked. ‘I don’t want to embarrass you.’

  ‘I’ll let you choose the art you want to use,’ Michael said. He walked across the grass towards the two of them, not knowing what was going to happen. He knew he'd changed and wanted to test himself. If he was being guided by the gods, he’d be fine.

  Carolina whispered something in Marcel’s ear.

  The three came closer to eachother, and bowed.

  ‘Do we have to bow, too?’ Mohammad asked.

  Michael laughed.

  The three of them circled, whilst closing in on each other. Carolina lunged in with a cross punch, at the same time Marcel swung a high round house kick. Michael blocked both with his forearms. He responded with a spinning hook kick, but, Carolina tripped him and he went down, hitting the grass like a sack of potatoes.

  There were mumbles coming from the table. The silence was deadly. But at least Mohammad looked happy.

  Carolina reached down and pulled him up. Again, he felt embarrassed. Everyone was watching him as their apparent leader, getting taught a lesson in combat by Carolina. This time Marcel moved in.

  ‘Wait a second,’ Scarlett shouted, throwing them four Kali sticks. Each stick was around a foot in length.

  Michael picked up two; Marcel and Carolina took one each. Michael looked at his, realising how light in weight they were.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Scarlett said. ‘They’re very light, but extremely durable.’

  ‘Man, this is great,’ Mohammad shouted from the comfort of his seat.

  ‘I’m betting on Carolina!’ Ajit shouted.

  ‘Betting? You have no money to bet. You can’t even afford dinner half the time,’ Mohammad said. ‘Stop dancing and do something.’

  Carolina, Michael, and Marcel swung at the same time. The sound of the sticks making contact sounded like a snapping thigh bone. The speed of the sticks moving were like that of the propellers of Alban’s Black Hawk.

  They swung continuously for about three minutes, until Michael’s arms began to lower. ‘I don’t know how long I can hold on,’ he cried.

  At the same time, with an outburst of energy, they all swung one last time, shattering the Kali sticks and sending them into the air in pieces.

  ‘Well done!’ Marcel shouted. ‘Good workout, team!’

  They each took a bow.

  ‘I think we’re ready!’ Scarlett shouted.

  ‘Well done to you all!’ Ahmad said.

  ‘So is it official? We’re all badass gods and goddess, ready to put our foot in the ass of this Mancini Corporation and The Fomorians?’ Mohammad shouted.

  ‘Let’s go grab some food.’ Scarlett shouted.

  AFTER DINNER ALBAN arrived with the news they’d been hoping for – the plane was ready.

  As everyone climbed the steps of the Gulfstream g650 jet, they seemed to be nervous and excited at the same time. In the air, Michael rested his head against the vibrating window, gazing out over the dark Atlantic. As the aircraft cruised over the moonlit ocean, everyone, except for Michael, fell asleep. His overactive mind tried to consider every possible scenario of what may come their way. Staring through the window at the moon and stars, he seen what he thought was a group of stars forming a pair of eyes, looking directly at him. He blinked and looked away. He forced himself to look again. The eyes had become a man’s face. Smiling at him. He turned away again, thinking it was his mind playing tricks on him. He was gritting his teeth, without even realising. He rubbed his eyes. Looking out again, he seen that the face had returned to the normal formation of stars. He felt watched, from everywhere. Like the rest of the team, he wished he could sleep. The cabin was calm enough - nothing but the hum from the Rolls-Royce BR725 Turbofan engines and the snores of Mohammad.

  But to Michael, it felt like the calm before the storm. And whatever the hell that face was, would have something to do with it.

  Hearing Alban, and the words he used signaled perhaps the beginning of that whirlwind they were being dragged into. The words he said would probably stay with them forever. Those words were to anybody else, normal, but not to them. Those words were: ‘Welcome to Mexico!’

  PART TWO

  Chapter One

  THE JET CRUISED COMFORTABLY at forty thousand feet above sea level, cutting through the clouds bathed in a Mexican sunrise. The scene from outside Michael’s window was nothing less than breath-taking. He loved to fly; that feeling of being so small and insignificant in comparison to the enormous world.

  As he gazed out through the window, he cast his sleep-deprived, watery eyes along the vast Atlantic Ocean until it met land. Mexico. He had never seen such a beautiful morning.

  ‘What a view!’

  He nudged Sofia who was out cold beside him. No response. Gently tapping her hand, he whispered, ‘Sofia...’

  ‘What?’ she groaned, her eyes barely open.

  ‘Look.’ He gestured towards the window. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Si, it’s really beautiful.’ She yawned. ‘Where are we?’

  ‘Almost there!’ Alban yelled from the cockpit. ‘Forty-five minutes give or take until we reach the house.’

  Scarlett stood up, stretched, and gave an enormous yawn. She staggered towards the cockpit. ‘I can’t wait to get to the house; I’m tired of all this travelling.’

  ‘Can we visit Brazil when we find Eduardo?’ Carolina groaned while stretching her upper limbs. ‘It would be cool to do it unnoticed, have a peek around.’

  Marcel opened his eyes. ‘Good idea.’

  ‘I’ve always wanted to visit B
razil. Is your family still in Sao Paulo?’ Michael asked.

  Marcel and Carolina exchanged awkward glances, looking at each other like two rabbits caught in a trap. Their reaction made Michael feel like he had said something wrong. But it was an innocent question. He didn’t know what, but something was off. What could they possibly be hiding? Was there something about their lives in Brazil that they weren’t comfortable talking about?

  ‘I’d love to watch you guys play football in Brazil. I hear you’re quite good,’ Michael said in an attempt to alleviate the tension. Marcel just smiled.

  ‘Can we do Pakistan, too, after Brazil?’ Mohammad asked.

  Sofia giggled.

  ‘Your parents, my friend, are extremely happy not to have to look at your face, and of course, not to listen to your voice. Your parents don’t want us to come to Pakistan.’ Ajit spoke with his eyes closed, and his head back against the seat’s head rest.

  Michael looked at Marcel and Carolina. They looked glad that the attention was taken off them. It was strange because Marcel usually thrived on attention. But why not now?

  The cabin fell silent again.

  ‘Fifteen minutes until we arrive.’ Alban shouted. ‘Scarlett, have you spoken to Larry?’

  ‘I have. He’s busy working on something. It’s going to help us!’

  ‘Who is Larry, and what does he do?’ Ajit asked.

  ‘Larry’s from Nigeria,’ Scarlett said. ‘He studied at Little Camberly. When we discovered his brilliance, the foundation snatched him up at the first opportunity. He specialises in mechanics. He can build pretty much anything with his hands. We can trust him.’

  There was a shared feeling that an outsider coming into the group might be dangerous; which – apart from anything else – was good because it meant that they were beginning to trust each other. Even if that trust didn’t extend further than their little group, they were beginning to form a closely-knit bond. The Sirani Seven were like the jewels of the foundation, and potentially the saviours of everyone on the planet.

  Scarlett gazed out the window, sheltering her bloodshot eyes from the blinding sun. ‘We’ve arrived. Put your belts on for landing.’

 

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