The Complete Atlantis Series, Books 1 - 5

Ascendant Saga

Brandon Ellis

Project Atlantis

Ascendant Saga Book 1

Copyright © 2018

Brandon Ellis

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Names used in this novel do not represent the personalities, traits, or mental and physical characteristics to real persons, living or dead, with the same name.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

All rights reserved. Version 1.03.

Edited by Kate Pickford

Published by BookLily Press, LLC

Website: www.brandonelliswrites.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/brandonellis1212

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Starfighter: Freedom Star Book 1

Prologue

May 7th

Plano, Taxas

Global Safety Administration

A loud buzz catapulted Jon to attention. His feet fell off his desk as he sat straight. His eyes wide, his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. Pushing his glasses up, he studied the image that filled the largest of the screens on the wall in front of him. He froze. Tingles traveled down the back of his neck. “What the hell?” He dug into his pocket, pulled out a flip phone, and dialed a number.

“Paul…Paul. Get up here. No. Just—” Jon sighed. “I don’t care how late it is. Get your butt up here and see what TECS IV sent back.”

Paul cursed in English, Japanese, and Urdu, just to make his point. “Tansho,” he said. “Better be worth it.”

“Quit your bellyaching. We have data like you would not believe.” Jon hung up. He wheeled his chair over to a keyboard, pressing the right arrow key, bringing up the next picture.

He ran his hands through his receding hairline and squinted, not understanding exactly what he was looking at. “Are those…? Seriously? Are those jet fighters?” He eyed row upon gleaming row of craft. Surely, they had to be shadows? “Yeah, doofus, like there are ‘jet fighter’ shaped shadows on one of Jupiter’s moons.” The craft were bulkier than any jet fighter he’d ever seen. He hit the right arrow key. It took him to the next image.

The office door opened. “Jon, why the hell did you get me out of…?” Paul stopped, mid-stride. “Holy shit! No way. A pyramid?” His mouth hung open. He stared at the image for several seconds. “Do we call the Colonel? I mean, what do we do?”

“Hold on. You’ve got to see…” Jon pounded his keyboard. “Satellite TECS IV recorded these images two days ago. The cameras were at twenty-nine degrees north, thirty-one degrees east, and this is what they recorded on Callisto’s surface…”

Paul slumped into his chair. None of his training had prepared him for what he was seeing.

“That’s right,” said Jon. “There are holy-shit jet fighters on one of Jupiter’s moons.”

Paul stood slowly and slunk towards the screen. “Go back a frame, back to the pyramid.”

Jon hit the backspace key.

“Can you zoom in on that?” Paul tapped on the screen on the wall. He pointed to a symbol embedded into one of the stones near the pyramid’s capstone.

Jon clicked on his mouse, highlighted the area, and zoomed in. “There you go.”

The symbol had two circles inside a larger circle, like a bullseye. A perfect cross stood in the middle. One line extended the length of the symbol and the other line extended the width. Paul spun around. “What does the symbol mean?”

Jon wheeled over to a laptop, hitting the keys as fast as he could to pull up the internet and search the symbol's meaning.

Paul leaped over a chair to get to his own laptop, snagging his ankle and crashing face first onto the floor. Piles of papers slid off the main desk and on top of him.

“Can’t find the meaning,” Jon blurted. “Too many options.”

Pushing himself up, Paul looked over at Jon. “This whole thing has to be some shitty practical joke. Check to see if anyone hacked the system. We’re being played. No, more like punked.”

“I’m already on it.” Jon perused the firewall. “No prompts. Checking for remote users.” He buzzed through screen after screen, his lips a tight, straight line. “No, nothing. And, no odd updates either. We’re clean.”

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. “What the hell is a pyramid doing on a Jupiter moon?”

“Pyramid? What the hell are jet fighters doing on Callisto?”

“Sure, sure,” said Paul. “But jet fighters could come from anywhere. So, there are alien races with advanced tech. Big deal. We always knew that was a possibility, but pyramids, man. Do you know what it takes to build a pyramid?”

“There is more than one,” Jon said, clicking through images.

“How many more?” Paul asked.

“Three, on some type of hill in this crater.” He pulled up another image.

“The surfaces of those pyramids are almost untouched. They are damned-near perfect. This is amazing.” Paul plopped down on a chair beside Jon. “Pull up the symbol again.” He traced the symbol with his finger. “A religious symbol?”

Jon leaned back and shook his head. “You’re not seeing it yet, are you?”

“What do you mean? The pyramid is right there.”

Jon couldn’t suppress his grin. “You haven’t seen what they are emitting. Look at the energy gauge on the side of the screen. That’s the energy signature the pyramids are giving off.”

Paul studied the gauge on the screen’s upper right corner. His hand flew to his mouth. “That’s the mother of all energy signatures.”

Jon picked up his phone and dialed his boss’s emergency line—the only way to get the boss to answer his phone at this hour.

Colonel Slade Roberson answered.

“I’m sorry to bother you, Sir. TECS IV found something…” Jon nodded a few times. “We’re looking at a very high energy concentration on Callisto, a Jupiter moon.” A pause. “What exactly are we looking at? Uh...pyramid structures with enough energy output to power New York City. And jet fighters. Uh-huh, you heard me right, jet fighters and pyramids. We found the golden egg, Sir.” Jon hung up.

Paul held his hand up for a high-five.

Jon slapped his hand. “History just got a kick in the damned pants, man. Shit just got real.”

1

May 21St ~ Tucume, Peru

Kaden Jaxx’s shoes were caked in dirt. He’d have scraped the muck off, but his toe box would be crusted over again within the hour. No point. He might as well hunker down and concentrate all his attention on his most recent find. The work of an archaeologist was, of necessity, slow. You couldn’t rush history. It was too fragile, too breakable, too close to his heart.

He stood in front of the Temple of the Sacred Stone, a pyramid he’d been studying for the last two years. It was one of twenty-six pyramid-like structures in the region. His job was to take pictures and decipher the ancient writings etched in the pyramids. He also wanted to see if his hypothesis was correct, no matter where a pyramid was built, over time it slowly raised the ground it sat upon. In this case, it had. The observable evidence was everywhere, if you knew what you were looking for. He didn’t care what the experts said, these magnificent structures were not created by the Lambayeque people in 1,000 AD, but were in fact yet more strategically-positioned Atlantean pyramids.

Jaxx planned to write the heck out of his hypothesis, with foot-notes, references, cross-references, and scholarly citations. He knew what he knew and the world needed to know it too. These pyramids were built for a reason; these pyramids would save the Earth from its slide back into the Dark Ages; these pyramids—simply put—were the single greatest source of untapped energy on the planet. If only the powers that be would listen to him.

They wouldn’t.

He’d send his hard-won findings into the world and, as always, be critiqued, shut out of peer circles, and mocked to the high heavens and back.

He pulled off his backpack and unclasped a water bottle. Twisting the cap off, he touched the bottle’s mouth to his lips and froze. A sound carried across the wind, shattering the calm and erupting across the sky.

Thrump thrump thrump thrump.

A helicopter?

He spun around. A huge, black chopper closed in on him. The thrum of the blades became louder. It came in low. His stomach tightened. Something didn’t feel right. He studied it for a moment, observing the trajectory of its flight.

It headed in for a landing.

He racked his brain. Was anyone else in the vicinity? He didn’t believe so. No travelers, no locals. And since he liked to work alone, no workers. He only brought them if he absolutely needed them. He was alone. The chopper couldn’t be for him, though. That wouldn’t make sense. He was nobody, nothing, a blip on the underside of the archaeological radar. No one would send anything as flash and imposing as a chopper for him.

The giant metal bird slowed, coming in for a landing. The closer it came, the more the wind picked up. It whipped Jaxx’s hair across his face and pressed his clothes against his body.

Touching down, the helicopter’s engine died and the titanium rotors came to a gradual halt. The cabin door opened and a man with brown hair, graying at the temples, jumped out and marched toward Jaxx. Even if he hadn’t been in camo, his gait, the lack of facial hair, the way he stared ahead, all screamed “military.” Muscle bound in the way certain military men were, when they’ve been bench-pressing three-hundred pounds for too many years.

“Kaden Jaxx?” he yelled.

Kaden didn’t want to respond. Was he in trouble? If so, what had he done wrong? He wiped the sweat from his forehead, but there was nothing he could do about the stains spreading out from his armpits. “Yeah?”

The man smiled—if you could call the break in his face and shine of his too-white teeth a smile—and extended his hand, a smell of mint wafting off his breath. “Colonel Slade Roberson.”

Kaden shook his hand, his mind racing. “Professor Kaden Jaxx.” His eyebrows squished together. “What can I do you for?”

“I know this is abrupt and I apologize. We are in need of your services.” Slade motioned to the helicopter. “If you step this way, we’ll get going. You’ll be briefed when we reach Grenada.” The Colonel glanced at his watch.

“Excuse me?”

Slade pulled out a piece of gum and popped it in his mouth. “We don’t have much time.”

Jaxx held up his camera in a feeble attempt to ward the Colonel off. It wasn’t adding up. Something had gone seriously wrong. Military men and choppers didn’t just plunge from the sky and take him god-knows where. That wasn’t how his world worked.

Slade winked and gave an ill-attempted grin. He smacked his gum. “I’m not here to hurt or scare you, my friend.” He placed his hands on his hips. “I’m here to change your world.”

* * *

Jaxx stepped into the helicopter’s cabin. The smell of sweat and jet fuel filled the air. He bent over, avoiding the shallow ceiling. The titanium rotors started up, drowning out all sound. The pilot looked at Jaxx and pointed at his helmet, “Put it on!”

Jaxx couldn’t hear a thing. “What?”

The pilot raised his eyebrows at Slade who had already taken a seat near the bulkhead and was strapping in. Slade patted the seat next to him and pointed to a helmet on the rail.

Jaxx sat, and placed the helmet on his head. The ear-muff like padding fit snugly around his ears, drowning out most sound. The roar of the helicopter instantly faded. He had a brief flash of the joy stick in his hand, the chopper banking left, the glorious patchwork of fields, towns, and mountains below. Odd. He’d never been inside a chopper before, let alone flown one.

Slade pushed his microphone close to his mouth. “Strap in, Jaxx. Once we’re up in the air, it feels like a dishwasher in here.”

“A dishwasher?” questioned Jaxx.

Slade knocked on the side of his helmet. “Listen, I don’t like echoes. You heard me the first time. Yes, a dishwasher.”

“You gentlemen ready?”

Slade glanced at the pilot and gave a thumbs up. “Fox, take us up.”

Fox had a hardened look; a look Jaxx had seen on countless combat-weary faces over the years. Like the man killed one too many men and crushed part of his soul in the process.

Fox gave a nod and pulled up on the collective lever. The helicopter lifted in the air.

Jaxx buckled in his last restraining belt. “This isn’t a joke, is it?”

“A joke? What the hell makes you think this is a joke?” Slade stared at Jaxx for a few moments, lips tight.

“I—”

“The United States military is no joke. It’s not every day we’ll fly in over damn pyramids to pick up one of you sons of bitches.”

The terrain widened and the pyramids below became smaller.

“Where are we going and why…?”

“Grenada in the Caribbean.” Slade narrowed his eyes. “We need information about something we’ve found. You’ll be doing our country a great service by helping us.”

It almost felt like he didn’t have a choice in the matter. Jaxx rubbed his chest. “Me? I’m not exactly filled with information that’s accepted in many circles.”

“Precisely.”

“Precisely?”

Slade closed his eyes. “Get some rest. We have a long trip. Many stops. And, again, I don’t like echoes. If you keep your mouth shut and follow our instructions, you’ll see the greatest discovery mankind has ever seen.”

2

MAY 22nd ~ SAINT GEORGE, GRENADA

Jaxx’s backpack was strapped across his shoulder, his clothes wrinkled, and he reeked of helicopter. His boots still caked in dirt, his white socks stained in brown, perspiration welled from his skin. It was hot and humid on Grenada. He didn’t know the temperature and didn’t want to.

He followed Slade up a windy cobblestone path and into a courtyard. It was run down. For years, hurricanes chipped at the buildings and surrounding walls. The lack of care astounded him. The lack of tourists, understandable. The air of foreboding, overwhelming.

In the corner stood a basketball hoop, old and worn out. A half-broken chain attached to the rim acted as the net and the backboard was rotting away.

Slade halted in the middle of the courtyard. He folded his arms across his chest. “You play much?”

Jaxx rubbed his chin, confused. Why would a Colonel be asking him about basketball? “I played in college. I was okay.”

Slade titled his head. “You like Shaquille O’Neal?”

“I guess, why?”

“Something I’d like to name my ship.” He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and winked. “Space Shaq.”

A ship? Kaden kept his mouth shut. He figured it wiser to do so. Perhaps this great discovery the colonel boasted about was somewhere on or in the fort.

Slade gestured for Kaden to follow him. He took out some jangling keys as they approached a door, which was missing a door handle and a lock. So, why the keys?

Slade surveyed the courtyard, then studied his watch for a couple of seconds. He pressed on the watch’s face several times. “Good. We’re alone.” He gave a quick kick to the bottom of the door. It popped out and fell a few inches before Slade caught it and set it to the side. A metallic door stood behind it, with several locks attached. “Welcome to Fort George, home to Underfoot Black. We don’t come up surface-side much. We’re down below, bottled up like fenced cattle.”

“Ah.” Jaxx had no clue what Slade referred to.

After a few clanks and clicks, Slade pushed the metallic door open.

“Jaxx, put the first door back in place.” Slade observed Jaxx’s confusion, then rolled his eyes. “It’s leaning up against the entryway behind you. Hurry up.”

This Slade guy lacked manners. Still he was military, which meant he knew how to handle the gun he had at his hip, but more importantly, he’d promised to show Jaxx something that would change the face of history. Jaxx twisted around, grabbed the door, lined it up and secured it as best he could. The entryway darkened except for a small slit of light that came through the bottom of the makeshift door.

A ding sounded and a door slid open. Light splashed against the walls.

Jaxx jerked back. “An elevator?”

Slade stepped inside. “Shut the metallic door behind you. When you do, the doors will automatically lock. And pick your mouth back up. Yes, it’s an elevator. You can drop your chin when you see what I’m about to show you below.”

Slade leaned against the back of the elevator waiting for Jaxx to finish his quick assignment. When he did, Jaxx stepped inside.

“Welcome to Fort George, originally established by the French in the early 1700’s. Beneath the fort we have built a facility. ‘We’ being the Global Safety Administration, or GSA. The facility goes by the moniker, Underfoot Black. We chose Fort George, because it's situated close enough to the United States border for easy access to adequate supplies, expert personnel, and anything else needed at a quick click, but also far enough away as not to be too suspicious. Only those with the highest security clearance ever set foot in Underfoot Black, with one exception. You.” Slade chewed loudly and called out, “Level One.”

“Excuse me?”

The elevator doors closed, then started to descend. “You’re excused.”

Another ding, the door opened. Jaxx’s eyes about popped out of his head. His mind spun. He took a few steps out of the elevator, gazing at a large dome-shaped ceiling hundreds of feet above. Gorgeous bowl-shaped crystal chandeliers of different lengths hung, each one complimenting the light from its neighbor.

He did his best to take everything in, but the place was overwhelming, and all he registered were snapshots. People worked on disc-shaped computers with glass-like screens projecting holographic images. Their hands worked rhythmically with the computer screens, touching this and that, and dragging holographic digitized items closer to make them bigger, or moving them farther away.

A large screen, more monstrous and advanced than NASA’s Mission Control Center, loomed high above the diligent workers and their computer stations. That too was holographic. More like a stage than a screen. A close-up holographic image of Jupiter appeared on one portion of the stage and on another were Jupiter’s surrounding moons, all labeled. The name Callisto highlighted in red with an arrow pointed to a grayish-white moon. The other moons were labeled in blue; Europa, Ganymede, Himalia, and more.

Jaxx had no idea Jupiter had so many moons. “Why is Jupiter and its moons…”

Slade walked in the other direction.

Jaxx took off after him and quickly caught up. “Hey, why—”

Slade put his hand up to shush Jaxx.

They rounded a corner and Jaxx’s mouth gaped. Underfoot Black seemed to go on forever.

Plants and trees grew throughout the facility. They rose from round holes full of dark, healthy soil. Passing several operational hubs and private offices, Jaxx found himself following Slade like a well-trained dog. Yet, he didn’t care. He currently experienced something out of Star Wars or the Twilight Zone. Soaking it all up was an understatement. Even though they were underground, everything glowed, even the walls, giving ample light for vegetation and the people working there.

They walked through a tunnel and into an area that opened to another large dome. A greenhouse against a far wall—a hundred yards long, fifty yards wide. Did these people live here? Was this a self-sustaining operation?

Through a second tunnel, they made their way to a second, larger dome with jets lined in rows. Jaxx gawked at the hardware. The jets resembled stealth fighters, though more rounded, like sleek flying saucers. Sounds of metal against metal and drills filled the room as men and women worked under the bellies and in the cockpits.

Slade picked up speed, and snapped his fingers. “Did you hear me?”

“No, what did you say?” Jaxx walked faster, doing his best to keep pace.

“Those are F-44 Dragons. The next generation.” He cleared his throat. “Some of these get reported as UFO’s.”

“I’d be reporting them too if I saw these things flying around.”

“They’ve been around you on many occasions. Seeing them is one thing, but hearing them is another. Their name, Dragons, is a misnomer. They are as silent as a purring kitten.” He turned down a corridor. “Almost there.”

“Almost where?”

“Like I said, you’ll see.”

Walking through another tunnel, Jaxx found himself in a place similar to a hotel lobby. People sat on couches, studying some type of clear pad in their hands. Others busied themselves, and came and went from the lobby.

Slade grabbed Jaxx by the arm and ushered him into a large office. He shut the door. “This is where you’ll be working for now. Welcome to the greatest discovery of all time.”

He scanned the space, once, twice, three times. He could see…what? The office held a dozen people and typing on computers. Large computer screens covered the walls and a hefty table sat in the middle of the room. From the table, spun a holographic image.

Kaden unconsciously let out a, “Whoa.”

The image from the desk comprised three pyramids cased in white stone with gold capstones.

Jaxx lowered his eyes, doing everything he could to tamp down his excitement. Wouldn’t do well to break the dork-o-meter on his first day, by being gauche and overly-enthusiastic. “Did you just say I’m working here?”

Slade cupped his hands behind his back, standing straighter. “You’ll be bunking in your own room. It has a kitchen, a bathroom, and a bedroom. Your food and beverage will be supplied for you at no cost. You will be paid $10,850 a month for your services.”

More than Jaxx made in three months. “Are you shitting me?”

“The military is not shitting you, Jaxx. The military does not shit.” Slade snorted at his own joke.

“How long will I be working here?”

“For as long as it takes. Is the salary reasonable?”

“I...uh...yes.” He paused. Was he part of some weird-ass experiment? He surveyed the room, seeing pictures of structures he’d never seen before. His archaeologist radar scanned uncontrollably like some B-movie Sci-Fi transceiver. Maybe these structures were found in a remote place on Earth? But, why would they need his expertise? They had enough people assembled to decode a couple archaeological sites at one time.

$10,850 month would solve a lot of problems. He did his best to remain neutral. “I need to let the University know.”

“Done.”

“What do you mean, done?”

“We’ve already contacted them and they have complied with our wishes.”

“They are fine with me taking some time off?”

“They sounded almost glad that you won’t be back with them.”

“What do you mean, I won’t be back with them?”

Slade flared his nostrils. He spoke slow and confident, though with enough energy to capsize a cruise liner. “An echo pisses me off. Do not repeat me.”

Anger rose from Jaxx’s belly, hot and swift. He wanted to tell the guy to shove off. Anyone in Jaxx’s position would ask these pertinent questions. They’d do their best to figure out the predicament they landed in. He could say whatever he wanted. He wasn’t military and didn’t take orders. About to give a sharp retort, his eyes swept over Slade’s biceps. He changed his mind. It wasn’t like this was a public place. Chances were, no one in the facility would report any illegal activity if Slade started to knock him around, especially in a facility called “Underfoot Black.” He bit his tongue. “You got me fired from my job?”

“Yes, and you have a new one.” He slapped Jaxx on the shoulder and squeezed. “Make me proud.”

Jaxx shoved his hands deep into his pockets. “I need my job. Do you know how hard I’ve been working? Do you know how hard it was to land that job? They were the only ones who even considered me.”

“Well, apparently they weren’t too attached.”

Jaxx’s heart sank. “Shit.”

“As I said, this facility is known as Underfoot Black. We are a top-secret installation for the Global Safety Administration headed by me. I report directly to the President of the United States.”

Jaxx pursed his lips. Was he supposed to be impressed? “Okay.”

“That’s all you can say?”

“I’m at a loss as to who you are, what the Global whatcha-ma-call-it is, and Underfoot Black? Could you pick any more of a sketchy name?”

“Good. It’s unfamiliar to you, as it should be.” Slade clasped Jaxx’s forearm, pulling him forward. “Scientists, attention please.”

The room quieted and everyone stopped their work.

“This is Kaden Jaxx. He will be helping us with research and investigation.”

A few of them gave nods, most scowled. They went back to their tasks.

Jaxx lowered his gaze. Only just got here and I’m already the least-popular member of the group. He touched the desk in the center of the room. The pyramids spun. “How do you stop the image from moving?”

Slade touched a button on the desk. “Easy.”

Jaxx grimaced and shook his head. He examined the image. “Are these real?”

“Yes.”

The colonel was serious. “If these pyramids are real, they are untouched by modern man. The casing is nearly perfect. It’s capped in gold. Robbers would have chipped away at them centuries ago. Where are these pyramids located?”

“Callisto.”

Callisto? Why does that sound so familiar? A memory popped in his mind, and his head slightly jerked back. On the Mission Control Center-like screen when he walked into Underfoot Black. A moon around Jupiter? It couldn’t be. They were testing him. The entire tour through “Underfoot Black” was an elaborate ruse. He was no dummy. He wasn’t going to fall for their nonsense. Pyramids on Jupiter’s moon, my ass. “Is Callisto a territory on Antarctica?”

A few scientists chuckled.

Slade shot them a look. They went back to what they were doing. That was unusual enough to give him pause. Scientists were usually a mouthy bunch, ready to give their opinions. Either Slade payed them silly money to keep quiet, or the gun at his hip had served its purpose. Either way, Jaxx needed to tread carefully. He’d already lost his job at the University; he couldn’t afford to lose this one before it had begun.

Jaxx pointed to a symbol on the largest pyramid, his finger going through the hologram. Unmistakable. His heart beat faster. He wanted to run to the hills and shout at the rooftops. If this pyramid was real, then to Jaxx this symbol was undeniable proof that Atlanteans were the source of the majority of pyramid construction throughout the world. “Is that symbol on any other structure in the vicinity of these pyramids? Or is this just it?”

Slade looped his fingers through his belt. “We haven’t found any other symbol that resembles that one.”

Jaxx’s mind was always dialed in on the archaeological channel and even though he was in a foreign place, it did not fail him today. “Okay, two circles inside a larger circle, looking like a target. A cross in the middle. One line of the cross extends the length of the target and the other line extends the width. Do you know what that means?”

Slade clenched his jaw. “That’s why you’re here, Jaxx, so you can dazzle me with your brilliance.”

“It’s something I’ve been saying for decades. The three circles serve as a reminder of a lost continent, a lost island, and a lost city. Most importantly, it’s a map of what the island was before it sank 12,500 hundred years ago. The island had an outer water ring, which is represented by the symbol’s biggest circle. Inside the bigger circle are two small circles, which also reminds us that the island had two more inner water rings around the main city. The symbol’s cross are the canals that went the length of the island and the width.”

Jaxx paused. The room dove into silence. He didn’t want to say the name of the mythological place he spoke about in fear he’d be laughed out of the room. Nonetheless, to keep his mouth shut for too long caused more pain than not.

With everyone’s ear, he continued to educate them. “Looking at the pyramids in this image, you see that the land these pyramids sit upon is higher than the land surrounding them. This tells me who built these pyramids, but the symbol is the dead giveaway. I guarantee that if you follow the exact latitude to the other side of the Earth to where these pyramids sit, you’ll see that at almost exactly one-hundred-eighty degrees there will be a large mountain or a volcano.”

Slade cocked his head to the side. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that the majority of the large pyramidal-structures in our world are here to terraform the land by raising the water and mineral table, raising the land, and raising the land on the other side of the Earth. Not every pyramid does this, but most do.”

Slade shrugged. The man didn’t seem like an idiot, but perhaps he was more of a visual learner. Jaxx raced through his hypothesis, boiling it down to the basics; something most people could follow. He drew a sphere in the air with his hands. “This is Earth.” He made a tent-like structure on one side of the sphere. “On this side, we have a volcano.” He ran his other hand over the dome of the imaginary sphere and formed a triangle with his thumb and forefinger on the other side of his fictional Earth. “On the other side—at precisely one-hundred and eighty degrees from the unstable Earth object—we have a pyramid.” He glanced around the room. He couldn’t read the faces of his colleagues, but he at least had Slade’s attention. “You understand what I am saying?”

Slade shook his head. “You lost me at volcano.”

“These pyramids, along with the majority of the pyramids built on Earth, have been strategically placed to lessen the impact of Earth changes, while simultaneously lengthening the time between magnetic pole swaps. It’s all about gravity.”

A scientist—all scraggly beard and lank hair—scoffed, then shook his head. “Here we go.”

A titter went through the ranks. The assembled scientists obviously read Jaxx’s research papers, articles, and maybe a few pages of his books. Jaxx had been ridiculed before and it hurt every time. He hoped someday he’d get over it, but his research was his baby. A criticism of his work was like tossing his baby off a cliff.

The guy with the scraggly beard smirked. “Can you tell all of my colleagues which culture you think built these pyramids?”

Jaxx could tell that the man already knew the answer. The leading question a dead giveaway. A flush swept across Jaxx’s cheeks. He took a deep breath. “These structures are built by those who created Atlantis. They are Atlantean. That’s why pyramids are so similar throughout the world. They were created by the Atlanteans with the help of other cultures.”

Slade placed both hands on the desk and leaned forward. “I see.” He scanned the scientists around the room. “None of these scientists believe you. If you want their respect, prove your theory right and without a shred of doubt, because right now, I’m even doubting you. Atlantean or not, I want you to figure out everything about these pyramids. Such as, how they got there. How they were built. And, most importantly, why these specific pyramids are there.”

“You need me to decipher symbols and translate them to English?”

Slade nodded, then tapped the desk. “Do you even know where Callisto is?”

“I don’t. I can only speculate that it’s a region on Earth I’ve never been to or heard about. That’s why I said Antarctica.”

“Callisto is a moon around Jupiter. Satellite images reveal a lot more than just these pyramids. Nonetheless, you’re supposed to be an expert on this stuff, so this is what you’ll be focusing on along with the rest of this team here. So get to know these scientists well.”

Jaxx stepped back. The pyramids were off-world? That opened a crap load of questions. He gathered himself. “I don’t think I’m hearing you correctly. Are you saying these are on a moon orbiting Jupiter right now? Not a region called Jupiter with a city named Callisto. You’re saying the actual planet and the actual moon?”

“Yes.”

Jaxx’s world imploded, threw him in a blender, and pressed the high button. He froze, planted his feet firmly on the ground, and willed the spinning to stop. “I’m here to study off-planet pyramids?”

“You and the rest of the scientists here.”

Jaxx’s mind went on the fritz for a moment and the world stood still. Everything blanketed in silence. He huffed. If he wanted to be part of the biggest discovery of his life, perhaps the biggest discovery of all time, then he’d better center himself. Be professional, Jaxx, and calm your shit down. “Do we have any up-close shots of the pyramids? I see hieroglyphs on these but I can’t quite make them out.”

“When you get there, you’ll be up close and personal. But, to answer your question, we can zoom in and out on these images. We have hundreds upon hundreds of photos, all at different angles.”

Jaxx tutted. It took him a moment to find the right words. “You said when I get there?”

The scientists’ talk died down. All eyes targeted him. This information regarding Jaxx getting there was new to them as well.

Jaxx dared not concentrate on the scientists. Were they jealous? Did they despise him even more? He worked alone for a reason.

Slade touched his fingertips together.

Ironic, he’s making pyramid hands. Jaxx racked focus. Couldn’t be making lame-ass jokes right now.

“I’ve been told you’ve written about pyramid power and the possibility that pyramids act as a giant power station, along with this nonsense that they are Atlantean constructions. I’ve also been told that you’ve drawn blueprints in your books of how a pyramid takes power from gravity, the Earth, the moon, and other such things. But more importantly, I’ve also been briefed that if a pyramid is fully functioning, unlike any pyramid on Earth, then you understand how to hook into their power.”

Jaxx fidgeted with his shirt. “I’m pretty sure they were used to power entire cities when we were in a more technological age. That wisdom has been lost.”

“But, not lost to you.”

“I…don’t know.”

“Screw ‘I don’t know.’ You know. You wouldn’t have spent the last 20 years writing books and having these jackasses sneer at you if you didn’t think you were onto something. If there was someone who knew more, I’d take them, but as it is, you’re what we’ve got. You’re our Atlantean-Pyramid expert. I don’t want you stepping on your dick and falling flat on your face. Translate what you can here and when the time comes, you’re going with me and my crew.”

“I’m going with your crew to where?”

“On a starship to Callisto.”

“A starship? Wha—”

“Damn echoes. You have to stop this parroting shit, Jaxx.” Slade cracked his knuckles, then walked out of the room.

As soon as the door closed, Jaxx’s colleagues burst out laughing. There were pyramids in space and the assholes thought they had time to ridicule him. Jaxx grinned. Might as well let them believe they had the upper hand. You always learn more when you fly below the radar anyhow. He straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. I’ll be laughing up the other side of my face when I get on that ship, and you don’t.

3

May 23rd ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Jaxx yawned and pushed the sheets off. He rubbed his eyes and sat up. It had been a long night. He slept in a hotel-like room in Underfoot Black. Yesterday sucked. Slade sucked. The scientists looked at his work and dismissed his ideas as mere stupidity. He sloshed out of bed and went into the bathroom. Jaxx looked in the mirror. Puffy, blood-shot eyes stared back at him. He had tossed and turned all night. With everything that had happened the day before, he slept little.

He leaned over and splashed water over his face. “Pyramids on a Jupiter moon? It has got to be real. Why else would they take the time to find me in Peru, in a private chopper? They wouldn’t.” His stomach churned. “This shit only happens in movies.”

Clothes on, he hurried down the hall to the Research and Investigation Operation Underfoot Team’s room. RIOUT for short.

He opened the door and all heads turned his way.

Slade leaned forward with a squint. “You’re late, Jaxx.”

A clock on the wall displayed five past seven. In the morning. Not the evening, the morning; practically dawn. Jaxx took a few steps toward Slade then stopped, stunned at what blared on the screen just behind him.

“The Lady of Atlantis?”

Slade turned nonchalantly and crossed his arms over his belly. “That’s not the Lady of Atlantis.”

Jaxx walked up next to him to get a closer view, mouth open. “That’s sure as rain the Lady of Atlantis. A limestone statue found in 1897 at L’Alcudia, an archaeological site on some private estate in Spain. I know that statue. I’ve studied it for years. The giveaway is the wheel-like coils covering her ears. It’s a device of some sort with symbols etched in the stone that I still haven’t been able to decipher.”

Slade sniffed at Jaxx’s clothes. “Ever thought of taking a shower, Jaxx?” His affect was flat; totally unnerving. “We know what the Lady of Atlantis is. That may look just like her, but it’s not the same one.”

“Jaxx,” a man interjected. “You’re thinking of the Lady of Elche.” He held out his hand. “Dr. Jon Shaughnessy.” The man was short and pudgy, with a receding hairline. His glasses were two sizes bigger than they needed to be, and he seemed to be the only scientist that didn’t look Jaxx up and down with disdain. He adjusted his glasses for longer than necessary. A nervous tick, perhaps. Jaxx sympathized. This “Underfoot Black” cave-office-research-room gave him the creeps, too.

Jaxx shook his hand. “I’m sorry, but the official name is inaccurate. Mainstream archeology claims that the statue was created in the 4th century BC. It doesn’t match up with any other artifacts dating back to that era, especially given the location it was found. The clothing is completely different, along with the way this statue was created. It’s chiseled in almost pinpoint perfection, as if a laser was used to carve it.”

Slade gestured over his shoulder toward scientists huddled over their computers, assiduously ignoring Jaxx, Slade, and Shaughnessy. “They’ve nicknamed the statue Princess Leia.”

Jaxx shook his head. “Those huge hair spools on each side of the woman’s head aren’t what you first perceive. It’s not hair. It’s headgear that connects all the way around to the back of the head. I believe it’s some type of technology.”

Slade nodded. “It’s not Lady of Atlantis, or Lady of Elche, or whatever the hell you want to call it. This one is the size of the Statue of Liberty.”

Shaughnessy patted Jaxx on the shoulder. “Well, nice to meet you. Love your work. Gotta go. I’m on the clock.” He gave Slade a half-ass salute, “Aye-aye, Colonel man.” Then walked back to his computer station to study the hieroglyphs on his screen.

Slade ignored the doctor. His arms crossed, he faced Jaxx. “This statue is also on Callisto.” He pointed at the images displayed on the screens throughout the room, taking the entire array in with a sweep of his arm. “Everything here is on Callisto. So, look at them with fresh eyes.”

That couldn’t be. To Jaxx, they were clearly human made. A human-looking statue? Man designed these structures. To make things more confusing, if what he was looking at was real, it was a never-before touched archaeological site. The only way such structures could be so pristine was if man hadn’t scraped away at it for years, or weather elements were such that it was rarely touched by wind or rain.

Slade made his way to the door. “Also, Jaxx, Shaughnessy will be your partner on this project. He’s the only one who can stomach your theories.” Slade let the door slam behind him.

Jaxx turned and watched Jon Shaughnessy comb over ancient symbols.

Jaxx then glanced at his new colleagues. What the hell was he supposed to do? None of them gave him any hints, nor any direction.

“Mr. Jaxx, over here.” It was Shaughnessy, his pasty face engulfed in a smile. “You can take my place.” He stood and slapped his seat, then waived Jaxx over. “Just help me with this, will you? Do you know mdju netjer?”

Jaxx took his seat, brushing a laptop under the desk with his foot. It was powered on, connected via a USB cord, obviously collecting data from the computer Shaughnessy was just using. Smart to have a back-up. “That’s the language of the Gods, attributed to Thoth.”

“Exactly. I’m learning as I go, but I have no clue what I’m looking at here. Deciphering it is a bitch. Half of these symbols aren’t in the dictionary we’ve been given.”

“It’s because half of these aren’t ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. Where are these located...on Callisto?” It was almost too ridiculous to say.

“On a domed structure, next to the pyramids.”

Jaxx studied the glyphs and symbols.

Shaughnessy rubbed his chin. “What languages am I looking at, then?”

“Half mdju netjer or Atlantean, which many Egyptologists have dubbed Egyptian, the other half are Sumerian symbols.”

“You can read them?”

Jaxx stomach tensed. Once again, he didn’t want to answer the question. He gazed up at Shaughnessy, and was glad to see his new lab partner was curious rather than skeptical. “I know a bit of it. It’s part of my job. I can’t research if I don’t understand the language I’m researching.”

Shaughnessy motioned to the screen. “What does it say?”

Jaxx perused the symbols and glyphs, and whispered the translations to himself. When done, he held his hands out, then shrugged. “I have no idea what they’re trying to spell out. Kuruka mwezi?”

“What’s that mean?”

“Moon fly or fly moon?”

“An insect?”

“No. Fly, the verb. As in flying somewhere.”

“Like, in a plane or a spaceship?”

“Yeah,” Jaxx said under his breath as he examined the words more closely. “Roketi? Rocket. That’s strange. Unless...”

He scrolled down to a glyph that resembled a jet fighter. “It’s showing Atlantean technology.”

“What does it say?”

Jaxx put his hand up. “Hold on.” He read more. “Kipengele? Element.” He scrolled down. “They have hundreds of atomic elements etched here.” Jaxx took a deep breath, then exhaled loudly. “No, that can’t be it.”

“What can’t be it?”

“Nothing.” He gave a dismissive hand. “Just ignore me. This is how I work.”

“Got it, boss. But, those aren’t neutral atoms that we’re looking at. You can see eight protons are in the middle, seven electrons around it on that one. The next one has seven protons, eight electrons. It’s ions to be more accurate and—”

“And, with the group of atomic elements here, we have polyatomic ions.” Jaxx had yet another I want to scream my excitement to the entire world moment, but managed to contain himself.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you see this before?”

Shaughnessy shrugged. “I hadn’t scrolled down that far. I was still trying to figure out the first several symbols.”

“With all of these Sumerian symbols mixed with Atlantean symbols, it’s getting a little confusing. Can we lose the Atlantean?”

“Sure, why?”

“They are just repeating words. My Sumerian is better than my Atlantean.” He blushed. How appalling to have to admit that his area of specialization was lacking. “I’ve had more practice with Sumerian. It’s a more recent language—if you can call Sumerian recent. In any case, the Atlantean symbol is saying what the Sumerian symbol is.”

Shaughnessy pressed a couple of keys on the keyboard, then double clicked the mouse. The Atlantean symbols disappeared and the Sumerian symbols moved side by side.

Jaxx bit his fingernail, examining the glyphs. He grabbed a pen and paper and started drawing ion after ion. “All of these are adding and removing, but in a specific sequence. Add, remove, add, remove.” He stood, eyes wide. “Nah, can’t be.”

“It can be. It is,” said Shaughnessy.

“You see it too?”

“It’s advanced plasma propulsion. It’s an ion propulsion formula that creates an electric charge. It’s so simple.”

“The symbol for ‘Sumaku’ is underneath it,” Jaxx replied. “It’s calling for magnets to be added.”

“Well, yeah. That’s how NASA propels its probes, by using extra-strength magnets to prevent the electrons from reaching the discharge channel walls. You don’t want an ionizing event in space.”

“This is how the Atlanteans flew to Callisto.”

“What?”

“Look at all the atomic elements even lower on the screen. It’s like an instruction manual.”

“Holy shit, Jaxx.”

“See those symbols?” Jaxx pointed to symbols at the end of what seemed to be a couple hundred atomic elements. “It says Siku kumi Kuruka mwezi, essentially meaning to fly to the moon in ten days. It’s a blueprint for advanced ion-propulsion systems. It’s either meant for the Atlanteans’ own scientists or they had hoped a future society would come across their structures long after their culture had vanished. It also bolsters my theory that the Atlanteans had a presence in Eastern Africa. They don’t call it the Cradle of Civilization for nothing.”

“Are you saying they flew from Mozambique to Callisto in ten days?”

“Well,” Jaxx nodded, shook his head, then nodded again. “I can’t say where they set off from, but yes, they were highly advanced and if I can convince Slade—”

“If you can get Slade to get this to tech,” Shaughnessy interrupted. “Then you’ve just advanced us by hundreds of years.”

Jaxx grinned. How freaking awesome would it be if he’d been right all along?

4

May 24th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

“We did what you asked and sent the information to tech,” Slade said, lips down turned.

Jaxx, standing near Shaughnessy’s computer station, rubbed his hands together. “What other structures are you hiding from me? I can decode whatever you need.” In a way, Jaxx was in archaeological Disneyland. If he could just tell the other scientists to leave so he could pore over these images, symbols, and structures on his own, then he’d practically orgasm. His eyes were among the first to see what had taken place on a moon millions, if not billions, of miles away. It would tell him a story, a way of life on that moon, and how the Atlanteans terraformed the moon to make it a liveable, breathable object in the solar system.

“You’re not seeing any more images until we deem your translations of the atomic elements correct,” Slade said.

“What do I do then? Go back to my room?”

Slade walked toward the door. “You’re coming with me. We’re going to hypnotherapy.”

Jaxx gave a double take. “What?”

“We have found that when a scientist has a discovery, and if we take them to a hypnotherapy session, we uncover information the subconscious mind hasn’t brought forth to the conscious mind yet. In other words, there are things that you may have seen and overlooked. We aren’t in the mood to have scientists sleep on things in order for the memory of another great discovery within the greater discovery to come to the surface. That can take days to weeks. We don’t have that much time.”

Time for what? Jaxx lifted his gaze. “Am I going to hypnotherapy now?”

“Yes, we’re late. I’ll be watching your session, so feel honored.”

* * *

A few days ago, Jaxx had been content doing field research. Well, not really. Content wasn’t the correct word, but he had liked it better than what he was going through at the moment. He lay on a couch, eyes closed, forced into a subconscious state by an old dude named Donny, whose long white beard matched his lab coat.

Slade sat in the room as well. He watched intently. Not the most relaxing ménage. Still, Donny’s voice lured him deeper and deeper. Down the escalator, through the fields of grain, and across the languid seas until he was in a place both familiar and unfamiliar, but profoundly relaxing. Massive screens hung from invisible wires while a series of glyphs flashed and danced and winked at him.

“What do you see?” Donny asked.

Jaxx spoke in a whisper. “The glyphs on the screen. They are in English. They weren’t in English yesterday.”

“It is safe to speak up, Mr. Jaxx. Your subconscious mind is seeing the symbols the easiest way it can. What do the words say in English?”

“They say…” Jaxx went silent. His view went from the screen to another image altogether. “I’m not on Earth anymore.”

“Where are you?”

“I don’t know. I was shipped here. They sent me without training. No, that’s wrong. I was trained, but I don’t believe that I’ve been trained well.”

“Who are they?”

“The Secret Space Program.”

He heard Slade writhe in his chair.

“Where exactly are you?” Donny inquired.

A shift occurred. The in-between state, where patient and hypnotherapist could talk together, moved from being in two worlds into one. Donny was there, but not there. His voice hung in the air, like a phantasm. “It’s okay to let us know, in words, where you have found yourself, Kaden. We’re all friends, here.”

Jaxx strapped into a starfighter and waited for the go-ahead to launch out of a Star Carrier’s bay. The smell of new upholstery filled the cockpit. Was he in a brand new starfighter?

With a ninety-nine percent chance he’d die today, he didn’t want to be in a starfighter. He didn’t want to be in space. Well, he did, but not under these conditions.

Both hands were on his starfighter’s control stick. He shook, squeezing his grip tighter and tighter as he waited for the starfighters in front of him to blast out of the amber glowing launch tubes.

He was next.

His comm line came alive.

“You ready?” It was a woman’s voice. He gave a sideways glance out of his cockpit window. Another starfighter waited alongside him in the launch queue. The pilot gave a thumbs up.

“No, I’m not.” Bile filled his throat and he swallowed hard to get the evil liquid to subside. No one liked barf inside their helmet when shot into space.

“Well, they’re in full force today. When you exit the launch tube, push your control stick forward and you’ll head straight down. Their cannons may miss you.”

Jaxx gasped and closed his eyes as the Star Carrier shuddered, pummeled by enemy fire. Everything around him jostled violently. They’d been surrounded for hours. He didn’t know how they were going to survive this onslaught. Why did they usher him into combat? He’d gone through a few simulations and basic star pilot training. Nothing more. He wondered if they ran out of pilots.

His launch tube opened.

The comm line blared. “Starfighter 117, this is Mission Control. Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx, you’re ready for launch. Proceed forward.”

They say death came swiftly out here. The war had been long, decades in fact. Jaxx, a newbie; green as green could be. They shipped him to this quadrant a few days ago—a quadrant within the Sagittarius arm, between two planets with no names.

Screw those planets.

He perspired. He went to dab his face. His visor blocked his hand. No time. He had to go.

He moved the craft forward and his cockpit glowed a deep, vibrant amber as he entered the launch tube. The tube’s doors closed behind him, signaling that his time to flee the cockpit had ended. He could no longer jump out of his craft and run out of the launch bay and into the ship’s main lobby.

He wanted to. Boy did he want to. Now there was no turning back.

The tube’s exit doors opened and Jaxx experienced weightlessness, his cockpit restraints the only thing fastening him to his seat. He saw stars out in front of him at the end of the long tube, along with a gray planet.

He prepared his starfighter for launch, then stiffened when he saw another starfighter explode in space, then flame out a moment later.

Another explosion and another.

“What happens next, Mr. Jaxx?”

“What do you mean Mission Control? I don’t understand…”

“Mr. Jaxx, you’re in a hypnotherapy session. This isn’t Mission Control. You’re safe here. You’re safe. Any feelings that come from your memories will not affect you when you awaken. You are safe. You are safe. Tell us what happens next.”

Jaxx felt the cold leather against his fingertips and opened his eyes, blinking several times. “What?”

“You’re coming out of it. A little too soon. It was intense, so it’s quite understandable,” Donny said.

Jaxx rubbed his eyes. “It seemed so real. It was as if I was there. Was I dreaming?”

Donny looked at Slade and then at Jaxx. “It was real. It looks like Slade and Captain Richard Fox aren’t the only ones who used to work with the Secret Space Program.”

Jaxx felt the chill race clear down to his bones. If Slade was part of this so-called “secret” space program, and he was a trained stone-cold killer—which he was positive Slade was—what did that make him?

5

May 24th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

The lights were out and Jaxx flipped onto his side. In bed, he couldn’t sleep. He fluffed his pillow and plopped his head on top of it for the umpteenth time, doing his best to forget about yesterday’s hypnotherapy session. Ten minutes of shut-eye would be grand, but he was stuck on an endless loop, Secret Space Program, starfighter, pilot, killer…

“No way. You can’t be part of a ‘Secret Space Program’ and forget it. They’re planting fake memories. I don’t know why or how, but that’s the only logical explanation.”

The loop started up again, Secret Space Program, starfighter, pilot, killer…

He had to get out of the room, shake it off.

Opening his door, he peeked down the hall. Empty. Dim lights. The scent of soil drifted in the air, probably from a nearby greenhouse. He walked down the hall and around a corner. Everyone in this section of Underfoot Black no doubt slept.

He ambled past the RIOUT office and took the stairs to an upper level to a lobby. Empty.

“Sir?”

Not as empty as he thought.

Jaxx turned around. There stood a man in camouflage fatigues, holding a military rifle. Eerily familiar, Jaxx couldn’t put his finger on where he had seen the guy.

Jaxx put his hands up, just in case. His mind fixated on “killers” and he didn’t want to inadvertently invite a bullet from some Terminator-wannabee’s gun.

The man wanted to laugh. The corners of his mouth gave him away. He didn’t give into the impulse. Instead, he fixed Jaxx with a cold eye. “This isn’t a bank robbery, Mr. Jaxx. Put your hands down.”

The helicopter pilot. Fox.

“What are you doing out of your quarters at 0200 hours, Jaxx?”

No, it wasn’t just that he was the helicopter pilot. Jaxx knew Fox from somewhere else, but from when and where?

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Fox gripped his rifle tighter. “How does not sleeping lead to sneaking around the facility at night?”

A scene played in Jaxx’s head—a long lost memory. The very same guy who stood in front of him, subtly threatening him with a rifle, was on a video screen, yelling profanities at Jaxx.

Jaxx lurched back and the memory vanished. He gathered himself and dug deep to recall more. But nothing rose to the surface.

Fox cleared his throat. “Cat catch your tongue?”

Jaxx put his hands in his pockets. “I thought I could walk it off. You know, maybe it would make me tired enough to fall asleep.”

He studied Jaxx for a few uncomfortable seconds. “I’m just at a loss for words, Mr. Jaxx. You don’t remember who I am, do you? You don’t have the faintest clue. I can see it in your eyes.”

Jaxx searched his mind for some answers, but came up empty.

Fox, shifted from one foot to the other, his face turning red. “Answer me, boy!”

“All I know is that you were the pilot who picked me up in Peru.” Maybe that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Yes, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Did you have a hypnotherapy session today? Any memories come to surface?”

Jaxx licked his lips. “I did. I’m not quite sure how to feel about it. I think I was making it all up.” He didn’t want to share his “memory implant” theory with an angry, armed man. For all he knew, he was in on it.

Fox narrowed his eyes. “My name is Captain Richard Fox. Did that come up in your session?”

“No. Should it have?”

“Slade says he doesn’t know you from Adam. Doesn’t remember you from the Secret Space Program. I, on the other hand, do. You aren’t very popular with SSP, or with me. If you let anyone else know the contents of your hypnotherapy session besides Slade, Donny, and me…” he tapped his rifle muzzle a few times. “Do you get my drift?”

Adrenaline picked up in Jaxx. He gulped down a few breaths to stay quiet and nodded. He hadn’t seen Fox in his session, but Donny had mentioned that he, Slade, and Fox were all in this Secret Program together.

“Don’t screw up. I don’t like screw-ups. You’re on a tight chain with me.”

A tight chain? Is that like a tight leash? Has Fox had me on a tight leash before? “Alright. Can I go back to my room?”

Fox tipped his head to the side. “Remember, tight chain. Now, get.”

Jaxx walked past Fox and down the stairs. He turned a corner and looked back to make sure that Fox asshole didn’t follow. No sight of him. Jaxx headed in the opposite direction and down another hallway. He stopped in front of the RIOUT office. No one inside. He turned the handle and pressed on the door. Miraculously, it opened. “Idiots forgot to lock up.”

All the computers in sleep mode, he went to Shaughnessy’s station, then thought better of it. Shaughnessy was a good sort; he didn’t want to muddy his electronic footprint. No matter how good Jaxx was at erasing his steps, there’d be a record somewhere. He hoped his hacking skills were still up to par. His stomach clenched with the thought of what he was about to do. If caught, Fox might put a bullet through his brain, execution-style. He shook off the image. No one would go to those lengths around here. Or would they?

But Jaxx wanted some answers. Slade was being vague. He could feel it.

He went across the room to another computer and flipped the keyboard over. In a room full of rocket scientists—who all knew how important security and encryption was—some moron always wrote their password down and kept it someplace obvious. It only took him three keyboards to find his own, personal idiot. He couldn’t be sure, but if memory served, the computer belonged to the scraggly-bearded chap who’d sneered at him on day one. Well, karma’s a bitch, dude; suck it up.

He swiveled the computer’s mouse and the screen turned on, bringing it out of sleep mode. He typed in the password and a basic computer operating system displayed several icons. He clicked the internet icon.

A soft metallic noise pinged in the corner of the room. Had someone opened the door? Or the sound of gun-metal on a stainless-steel desk? Jaxx sucked in a sharp breath and ducked. He shoved himself under the desk and pulled his knees to his chest to make himself as small as possible. He waited a few beats, willing his breathing to slow. When nothing else happened—no sounds, no words, no smells—he crawled out. He chided himself for his overripe paranoia. Right now, he could have majored in paranoia. Hell, he would have been a gold medalist, several times over, if anyone ever held a Paranoia Games.

No one is going to shoot you, Jaxx. Get over yourself.

He went to his email. His nephew, Drew Avera, on his mind.

Of all the people in the world who could help him out with information, it might be Drew. And he could trust the kid. He was a twenty-two year old genius, graduating high school and college before he was eighteen years old. The good news was that he worked for WNN—the World News Network—as an up and coming news reporter, out there digging for the truth, just like Jaxx, though in separate fields. Drew had a fascination with finding facts, piecing together complex puzzles, noodling out the stories, and reporting them. The kid already had connections that went deep, and he had a way of discovering information that others were too scared to dig for or just not patient enough to cultivate. Drew allowed informational treasure to surface, with insistent but gentle prodding.

The problem was that Drew was green, a rookie. He might be able to solve quadratic equations standing on his head, but he was the kind of kid who might forget to tie his shoelaces, or not eat for three days, or seem entirely baffled that he was supposed to report to work every day. Like, every day?

Jaxx hadn’t seen his nephew for a while, but if he could get Drew to find information on the GSA or Slade, then all the better. It would either calm Jaxx’s conscience or scare the shit out of him. He hoped the former.

He pulled up Drew’s email, crossing his fingers that Drew still used the same address.

Subject: Drew Avera, I’m screwed!

That ought to get Drew’s attention.

Hey buddy,

To authenticate this email so you know I’m not some prince in Africa trying to take your money, I’m going to use your nickname; Werd! Yep! Your name backwards. Werd.

Sorry for the email’s subject line, but I had to get your attention.

About four or five days ago I was doing field research in Peru. To make a long story short, I was picked up by the military. They flew me to an island in the Caribbean.

Grenada.

They offered me a shit ton of money to work for them, translating glyphs and symbols, plus some other top secret shit. They are hush-hush, so do me a favor and keep this on the down low.

I can’t go into too much detail as to what I’m being asked to do, but I’m a little nervous and suspiciou

A sound of metal, this time against wood, erupted in the room. Jaxx turned the screen off and hid under the desk. He reached out and pulled a chair close. The more cover, the better—if he hadn’t already been spotted.

The office door opened and a beam of light swept across the room.

A flashlight.

“Anyone in here?” Fox, his voice an annoying combo of authoritative and whiny.

Jaxx squeezed his eyes shut. Not the best position if found. Fox was suspicious of Jaxx already, and this would be the icing on the cake. Would Fox handcuff him and throw behind bars? Would Fox eliminate him somehow? That guy should never have been given a gun. Jaxx could tell he had a short fuse. But it was deeper than that. Not only could he tell, deep now he knew, down to his marrow, do not piss this one off. Trigger-happy was the phrase that came to mind. Maybe a shot to the back of the head wasn’t a paranoid thought.

A beam of light swept around the room once more, grazing Jaxx’s shoe but continuing on. There was no way out of this. What excuse would Jaxx use? Could he say he thought it would be easier to sleep under a desk? Like back in Grad School? Would Fox buy that?

The footsteps—booted, heavy, without hesitation—came toward him.

“I asked politely. It would be best if you showed yourself now. If you do, then do so slowly. I’m pointing a gun. Any surprise and this thing goes off.”

The footsteps halted and Jaxx could see Fox’s black, shiny boots. He could smell the polish coming off them.

“Last warning. If I find you, you might not like what I do to you. Come out.”

The door opened. “What’s the commotion?”

Fox stiffened. “Slade, it’s me. Richard.”

“What are you doing in here?”

“I thought I saw a computer screen on when I walked by here a couple of minutes ago. I thought I better take a look and doubled back.”

“The screens are like ghosts sometimes. They go on and off every so often. Don’t pay it any attention.”

“I’ve walked by this door hundreds of times. Never seen a computer screen turned on after hours.”

“Well, it happens. It’s past your work time, buddy. Come have a late night snifter with me?”

“Sure, but keep an eye on that Jaxx fellow. I caught him snooping around ten minutes ago.”

“In here?”

“No, walking around the hallways. He said he couldn’t sleep.”

Slade cackled. “The guy is probably shitting his pants. Let him roam for a while. Come on, let’s get that drink.”

Fox walked forward. Jaxx relaxed and eased his arms around his knees. His foot slipped and nudged a leg on the chair. Fox stopped.

“Ya’ hear that?”

A pause. “I heard that.”

“I told you. Someone’s here.”

A screen turned on across the room.

“Yep, there one goes. Like I said, ghosts,” Slade moaned. “Turn that off and I’ll pour us both a decent shot of Glenlivet. Meet you in my quarters.”

Fox strode to the computer and leaned on the desk, palms down.

Jaxx knew what he’d see. Glossy pictures littered beard-face’s desk.

Fox lifted one of the glossies to the screen’s light. A pyramid. Fox put it back on the desk and looked at another picture. A shot of Callisto, though zoomed in close enough to show structures on the moon.

Fox sighed, dropping the picture on the keyboard. “Way to hide these in plain sight, guys.” He turned off the computer and exited the room.

Jaxx remained frozen. Should he get up? He thought otherwise and hunkered down for ten minutes. He dared not move.

I have to finish the letter.

He slid out from under the desk and onto the seat. He turned on the screen and lowered the screen’s light, then continued typing.

Drew,

I just spent the last twenty minutes under a desk. I don’t think I was in immediate danger, but the fact that I was hiding should tell you there’s something uncomfortable about this place.

Can you look up Colonel Slade Roberson and the Global Safety Administration? Slade heads it. It’s a government agency that reports straight to the President of the United States.

Anyway, I just need some information, any information, to ease my mind. I’m hoping for the best.

Thanks, Werd. Email me back when you can.

- Your Uncle Kaden

He spent a couple of minutes covering his electronic tracks, then pressed the screen’s off button and hurried to the door, pausing just as he was about to open it.

The glossies.

He spun on his heels and carefully walked to the pictures that Fox had held in his hands. It was a gamble, but why not? They had hundreds of pictures. No one would miss two or three. He grabbed a couple and hid them under his shirt. He’d put them under his mattress, just in case. That way, if he ever needed proof of what he was doing with the RIOUT team, he’d have tangible evidence.

Careful to press the lever down slowly and gently so the latch didn’t click, he opened the door and peered into the hallway. Empty. He strode to the end of the hall and peeked around the corner. No one there. For a moment, he thought about an escape route, just in case another rifle-bearing guard tried to throw his weight around. He didn’t know the layout of the compound well enough to come up with an alternate route back to his bunk, let alone an escape route. Item number seven billion on the to-do list, get schematics for the joint, just in case.

He stepped down the hall, arms crossed at his front to keep the glossies from falling, and headed up steps to a marble floor that led to a pair of large glass doors. On the other side stood two men in camouflage. Jaxx fumbled to a halt. They held rifles.

Before Jaxx could slip away, one of the soldiers grabbed the other’s forearm, and pointed at Jaxx. He stepped forward and opened the door. He glared at Jaxx. “Can I help you?”

“Uh…yeah…I’m new here. I’m just doing my best to find my way around.” He squeezed his arms tight around his stomach, wishing he hadn’t snatched the glossies.

He gestured to Jaxx’s chest. “Where is your badge?”

Jaxx looked down at his shirt. “They never gave me one.”

“They give everyone a badge.” He picked up a clipboard full of papers. “What’s your name?”

“Kaden Jaxx.”

The guard flipped page over page. The other guard fidgeted with his rifle. Another one with a hair trigger no doubt. Jaxx resolved to keep his cool.

The guard put down the clipboard. “I don’t see your name.” He pressed down on his shoulder-mounted communication device. “Captain Richard Fox, we have a four-ten. It looks like he’s holding something under his shirt.”

Richard’s voiced boomed over the comm. He sounded—what was it—gleeful? bloodthirsty? vengeful? Jaxx swallowed hard. This guy Fox had it in for him, no doubt.

“It’s probably Kaden Jaxx. I’ll be right there.”

Jaxx back stepped down the stairs. “I’m fine. I’ll just get to my room. I’m a little lost is all.”

The guard put his hand up. “Don’t move.” He pointed to Jaxx’s stomach. “What do you have there?”

“I’m fine. I can probably find my way back.”

The guard bared his teeth. Literally. Like a dog. Jaxx was up sewer creek, for sure.

“Stay put, Sir.”

“Is it Kaden Jaxx?” Fox’s voice came over the guard’s communications device. “Please tell me it’s Kaden Jaxx.”

The guard tipped his head to the side, bringing his mouth closer to the device. “Yes, Sir.”

“Tell Jaxx that I have Colonel Slade Roberson with me. We’ll be there in a minute. Search him, please.”

“I’m on it,” the guard replied.

6

May 25th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

Drew Avera used his shirt to dry off. He’d forgotten to bring any towels into the bathroom. And there was that persistent whistling. He’d heard it in the shower, but written it off as the water in the pipes, but now the water wasn’t running, so there had to be another explanation. He opened his bathroom door.

“Crap. The tea!”

He dropped his shirt and ran naked into the kitchen. He forgot about the pot of tea he put on the stove before getting into the shower. This wasn’t new. Drew forgot what didn’t matter, so he could remember what did. Hence the dust bunnies the size of Texas roaming the skirting boards, the pile of pizza boxes on the table, and the kettle whistling Dixie on the stove.

He twisted the burner dial off, accidentally elbowing a thick vase. It tumbled off the countertop and onto the floor. It rolled toward a table in the kitchen nook. It would stay there, nestled with the dust bunnies, until he either gashed his foot or his aunt threatened to visit. Nothing like a mother-figure coming over to signal the need for a quick clean-and-tidy. For now, Drew had more important things to attend to. There was his story on the Deganzo Affair—an elaborate, international Ponzi scheme that had quietly ripped the Bitcoin market to shreds—that was due on his editor’s desk in the morning. He’d tracked the hackers to their—“yeah, go ahead, try re-routing me through seventeen countries”—base of operations and was set to blow the lid clean off the whole damned mess. He had about another hour of data to enter into a spreadsheet, detailing who’d done what and when, so his editor could follow along, and then he’d start on his next investigative dig. All good, clean fun.

His laptop sat on the dining-room table, papers strewn under and around it.

He plopped on his chair, opening the laptop. He clicked on his email icon; his morning routine, though he missed one vital aspect—his tea.

Subject: Drew Avera, I’m screwed!

The tea could wait.

Drew frowned. He opened the email and leaned in close.

“Uncle Jaxx?” He whispered the name out loud.

He slid his hand across the table, searching for his phone. “Where is that damn thing?” He tugged at his hair. He forever hunted for his constant misplaced phone and always frantic about it.

He pushed some papers off the table, searching for the blasted thing. A loud clank. It fell to the floor with the papers. “Son of a…”

Picking up his phone, he looked up Kaden Jaxx in his contacts. He pressed dial. It went straight to voicemail. He thought for a moment and cracked a smile. Jaxx was screwing with him like he always did when he was a kid. Jaxx would dress up as the Wolfman or Dracula or a blood-spattered zombie and hide in the coat closet or at the top of the basement stairs, then jump out and chase him and his sister around the house, while they screamed their heads off. Good times. “That bastard.”

Yet, the email intrigued him. It didn’t have a “Wolfman” tone about it.

He read the email a second time. This wasn’t like Jaxx. He wouldn’t write an email out of the blue like this, especially as a joke.

The email hurried, Jaxx didn’t even finish writing the s in suspicious.

Drew clicked out of his email and opened the internet. He typed in Global Safety Administration on the search bar. The administration popped up under the search terms. He clicked on it and the website loaded on the screen. A logo of Earth with a star in the middle was on the upper left of the website, GSA in all bold directly next to it with United States Global Safety Administration in all caps.

The site was full of information. The About page alone had eight subdirectories. This was going to take a while, though most of it would be “politics speak” i.e. it would tell him almost nothing. PR was a load of manure.

He looked at the clock. How much time could he realistically put in to help Jaxx? “Be a grown up. Hit your deadline. Don’t get distracted.” He’d take a few minutes and skim the page. GSA was probably harmless.

He clicked on the subdirectory entitled GSA Administrator. Colonel Slade Roberson popped up, along with several paragraphs telling the reader how great Slade was and why Slade believed global safety was amongst the most important aspects of government.

That told him nothing.

He clicked through the website, not finding anything of importance, other than it was created to protect the United States and the world against global warming. The rest gibberish, as predicted.

He clicked out of the website and typed Colonel Slade Roberson in the search bar. Dozens of search terms and topics appeared. He looked for an interview. That would tell him more about Slade than anything else.

Drew double clicked the first interview he saw; Rock Magazine.

A music magazine? Drew shrugged and read through the interview. It was about politics and where Slade stood on this issue and that issue. When global warming came up, Slade was convinced it was occurring. He claimed he was working diligently with the government to prevent it, or slow it down.

Drew scrunched up his face and rolled his eyes. He wasn’t convinced global warming was as man-made as the media had pronounced it. Nonetheless, Drew continued reading, stopping at a particular question and answer. He re-read it, then read it again. What a puzzling answer to a not-so puzzling question.

Below it was Slade’s video-taped answer. He didn’t want to bother taking time to watch something for two minutes when he could read it in twenty seconds, but it might be useful to see Slade in action; people give so much away when they speak. Things you can’t see in the transcript. He glanced down at his thighs. He sat naked. He shrugged. Who cared, he had nowhere else to be. He clicked on the video.

The interviewer asked what would need to happen if the administration and other governmental administrations throughout the world couldn’t stop global warming. Slade shifted in his seat. Drew’s antennae went up. It was Slade’s tell, a slight twist of the head, his chin rising, and his eyes looking left. It was distinctive, albeit subtle.

“The United States government and the Constitution of the United States of America would need to be preserved as a first priority,” said Slade. Another glance to the left. The man was hiding something. “No government or piece of legislation is more important in the history of the world. Preserving them should be our first step.”

That was the key to Slade that Drew wanted, a peel of the onion layer. Slade planned to preserve the administration, but how and where? If, as he believed, the rivers rose and the cities sank and humanity was huddled onto smaller and smaller patches of parched, non-arable land, where was he planning to put the policy wonks and the political hacks? And once he had them all safely holed up, what was next? Now that Drew had the bit between his teeth, the hunt was on. Things were going to go his favorite way, dark and deep.

7

May 25th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Why did I take those stupid glossies? I could be researching with the team right now.

Well, you know, alongside the team.

Well, no, not the team per se, alongside Shaughnessy.

Jaxx sat in a square room, white walls, high ceiling, single light bulb. Predictable in its efforts to intimidate him. It worked.

A large mirror positioned on one of the walls, no doubt there to spy on him. A lone bed across the room, mashed into the corner. The frame was about a foot too short and the mattress reeked of mold and sweat. Again, a crass attempt to cow him and force a “confession” out, but there was nothing to confess. Better yet, he’d spent all night curled on that bed and caught some much-needed shut eye. Jaxx careened between hope—that he was too valuable to lock up and throw away the key—and fear that he was exactly that, disposable.

“Good, you’re awake.” Slade’s voice echoed in the room.

Jaxx stared at himself in the mirror. “Are you on the other side of that mirror?”

“Why did you steal the glossies?”

Jaxx’s muscles went rigid. I’m an idiot, rose to mind.

“Stealing government property is a federal offense. Do you know how many years I could put you away for this?”

“They were just pic—”

“Pictures of classified information. What you were attempting to do was treason. If this gets out, our entire operation is compromised.”

Jaxx’s stomach sank. “What do you want from me?”

Silence.

“Hello?” said Jaxx. “When can I get back to work?”

The key turned in the lock, the bolts were drawn back, the door groaned on its hinges and Slade walked in. He stood, hands on his hips, anger in his eyes. “I’m not here to play games with you, Jaxx. I’m here to glean as much information from you as I can. We’ve picked you because you can help us. I can’t afford taking you off the team, but if I have to throw you in prison, I will. And for a long, long time. I’d pile on felony after felony and put you in there for enough time to drive you bat shit crazy so you wouldn’t be able to spill any classified information to the public. And even if you tried to, once you got out,” Slade leaned in close, his minty-fresh chewing gum breath right in Jaxx’s face. “If you ever got out. People would know you were bat shit crazy because you’d be cross-eyed, bald from pulling your hair out, and not able to walk straight. So, from this point forward, Captain Richard Fox will have both eyes on you to make sure you stay in line. Do you understand?”

Jaxx nodded.

“Do you understand.”

Jaxx squared his shoulders. “Yes.”

“Good.” Slade motioned to the doorway and Jaxx got up to leave. Slade put his hand up. “You’re staying here.”

Donny came in with a chair and placed it next to the bed.

“Lay on your bed, Jaxx,” said Slade. “You surprised us yesterday. You should have told us you had been in the Secret Space Program, sooner. You are more valuable than we initially thought.”

Jaxx’s chest tightened. “I don’t know anything about the Secret Space Program.”

“That’s what Captain Fox reported. You didn’t recognize him, you didn’t know jackshit about the program. Nonetheless, we need to know more about what you don’t know. Lay on the bed, Jaxx.”

Donny sat in his chair, clipboard in hand and a pen across the top of his ear. He held his hand toward the bed, as if that somehow made it welcoming, rather than intimidating. “We won’t harm you, Kaden. Trust me. I want what’s best for you. Any hidden memories that surface will only serve to lighten your load and enhance your mood. Things will become easier and you’ll be more aware of the world around you.”

Jaxx fidgeted with his hands. He didn’t want to go through this again. “You planted those memories in my head.”

Slade took a few steps toward Jaxx. “Are you shitting me?” He grabbed Jaxx under the armpits and carried him over to the bed. “I can throw you in prison whenever I want. So, I would suggest complying with us would be your number one option.” He let go and Jaxx fell onto the bed, the coils squeaking and bouncing.

* * *

Jaxx looked at his hands. Once again, they were gloved and gripping a control stick.

“Starfighter 117, this is Mission Control, you’re set for takeoff. Release from the launch tube now.”

The war. The oncoming battle. He was back, on some demented launch loop. It was Groundhog Day, with a twist.

He could see a gray planet in the distance and explosions highlighting the cosmos in front of him, just as he had the day before. He didn’t want to go to war, but he had no other options. Once again, Donny Dearest had dropped him into some whackadoo simulation at the point of no return. In a spacefighter, with weapons at his command. He was strapped in and ready for a fight.

Jaxx pressed on the accelerator and blasted out of the tube, pressing the control stick forward just as he exited. He headed straight down, evading massive cannon fire from an enemy starship.

He wanted to thank the woman who gave him the advice and instantly knew her name; Captain Rivkah Ravenwood. They had exchanged pleasantries a day ago, though she hadn’t been particularly pleasant. They made small talk and she let him know, more than once, that “no one in the galaxy is as good a starfighter as me.”

He could hear her voice in his head. Bold. Distinct. Southern.

Why did she help him?

Explosions and Plasma Cannons, aka PC’s, strafed the starlit darkness before him. It was one hell of a way to get a man to concentrate on the matter at hand. Jaxx honed and focused. More than that, he dodged the mess and confusion, as if he’d been flying his entire life.

On his starboard, a ship shaped like a massive egg slid into view. Jaxx eased back on his stick, rounded to face the behemoth and squeezed the trigger, expelling plasma bursts from PC’s on his starfighter’s wings. He hammered the craft. The shell ignited, then split, just as if he’d cracked an egg on the side of his cast-iron skillet.

Humans spilled out of the egg-ship, like runny yolk. They died before they knew what hit them.

Mission Control boomed through Jaxx’s comm. “Starfighter 117, cease fire. You killed a friendly. I repeat, you killed a friendly. Only fire on weapon’s lock. That’s the enemy.”

He should have felt something—guilt or shame or heartache—for allegedly killing off his own people, but everything was too chaotic, as if he had been thrown in combat with almost no training—which he had.

A craft fired a barrage of plasma blasts, barely missing him as it flew on by.

Jaxx arced away, doing his best to get his bearings. More craft buzzed by, one collapsing in a ball of fire, the other flying through the explosion.

Jaxx pulled away, avoiding more cannon fire. Then he felt it, a direct hit to the stern. His craft spiraled.

“Shit, shit! What am I doing out here?”

His hands shook as if he sat in a cockpit of ice, his breaths fast and shallow. “I need help out here.”

“Settle yourself, Starfighter 117.”

The woman’s voice.

“Rivkah? I’ve been hit. I’m spiraling.”

“Hit the auto-stasis.” She was calm. Preternaturally calm. She sounded like she knew what she was about.

“Auto-stasis?”

“Jeez, Jaxx. Get a grip. Big green button, to your left. You’ll right yourself in less than two minutes. All we have to do...say it with me…”

Jaxx had no idea what he was supposed to say, but he did find the green button and thwacked it over and over again.

“You still there, candy-ass?” Rivkah didn’t mince her words.

“Still here.”

“Right, like I always say, all we have to do to get through this war is, butts in buckets, bullets in battle, then back to base.”

Jaxx’s fighter evened out.

“That’s all the advice I have for you, cowboy. If you make it through this alive, I’ll see you on the carrier. Out.”

“God, I hope so.”

Above his starfighter, ships the size of cities blasted each other. Cannon fire. Missiles. And shit he’d never seen. A couple dozen large military crafts, pointed noses, diamond-shaped, the majority targeting the three Star Carriers in his fleet, all of which resembled behemoth aircraft carriers. It reminded him of the navy battles of old but at a distance thousands of kilometers away from each other, yet maintaining their space, pounding one another.

A starfighter zoomed by his port side. A handful of starfighters followed. They had the same insignia as the egg-ship he’d accidentally busted open, which meant they were friendlies. They spiraled, barreling toward one of the larger craft—apparently an enemy—gaining distance at incredible speed. In minutes, and on approach, they lit the craft with plasma blasts. It reacted, but too late. Fire erupted from its belly, only to extinguish in the vacuum of space a moment later. The ship went dark. Out of commission.

The starfighters rounded in unison and headed toward a bigger craft and pounded it with more weapons fire. This craft, however, barely grazed, this time ready, and released small fighters of its own, limiting the amount of damage it sustained. Jaxx’s visor automatically zoomed in on its own accord, and he observed a small crack in the enemy ship’s side. It returned fire, purple plasma bolts propelling out its side, and downed a few of the attackers.

Jaxx studied the crack more. A slit extended down the starboard side, exposing giant cogs and wheels in the engine room. Vital components. A direct hit in that exposure would put that craft out of commission.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a large piece of debris, floating near the ship. He pushed the throttle forward, sending his craft at an incredible speed at the debris. Yet it was his body that reacted, more so than his mind operating his decision.

Jaxx flew toward the debris and closer to the enemy craft. Then, his mind, his self, his essence shifted. His consciousness expanded—up, out, all around him, like a massive force field. He was outside his craft. No, he was one with the craft.

What the hell?

He blinked his eyes several times, dodging incoming cannon fire. Yet, dodging didn’t require moving his craft with the control stick. He needed only think “left” and his ship veered left, just the number of degrees required not to be shredded by enemy fire. A flush of adrenaline tingled through him. That’s not right. Impossible. Men didn’t merge with their space craft and moved them with their thoughts. He was delusional. Perhaps his helmet, his ship, pumped him full of hallucinogens, to alter his consciousness. To what end, he couldn’t imagine.

Abruptly, he and his viewpoint shifted back to normal. No longer expanded, back in his body. It was clunky, heavy, difficult to operate. Who’d designed humans? They’d done a piss-poor job of making them nimble.

His console lit up. Alarms blared. The enemy locked onto him. He was toast. The large craft with the slit in its side had him square in their sites.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Jaxx expanded again, heart pumping.

Cannon bolts shot from the craft. With a single thought, Jaxx dodged the weapons fire as if playing dodge ball. Lucky. But would his luck hold out? If he took on the huge craft on his own and aimed for the critical slit, without other starfighters as back up or drawing fire, his chance of survival was nil. He had to stay away from the ship and its turrets as best he could.

The debris was the solution, his ultimate goal, but why? How would it help him? The debris was inanimate, not controlled by anything but the forces of space. Perhaps if he targeted it, blasted it, he could deflect it into the craft’s damaged side. That would take accuracy even an ace pilot didn’t have. But he had physics on his side. He knew vectors and angles and trajectories. He knew how to land the eight-ball in the top pocket after bouncing off three cushions and the yellow ball that stood in his way. In his dreams, Jaxx had always been a pool shark. And here he was, a space shark, with a plan to nudge a piece of debris into a slit in a ship.

He banked right as an enemy fighter appeared on his starboard and tried to end him. It missed and looped around, heading back in Jaxx’s direction.

Jaxx concentrated on the largest piece of space debris. He was getting closer. His consciousness expanded. His eyes no longer in his craft. He, again, became his starfighter.

Jaxx focused on the object, while the eye in the back of his head trained on the enemy starfighter looping around. He could see forwards and backwards. He could move objects with his mind. He was Kaden Jaxx and they’d better not screw with him anymore. He paused at the thought, his awareness shrinking. He could move objects with his mind? What the hell? Where did that thought come from? Pushing it out of his mind, his worry, ins confusion, his nerves alleviated and his consciousness widened. He didn’t have time to think. Only react and let his body, his consciousness, do the heavy lifting. He asked the inanimate object to partner with him. He sensed that it agreed. This was nuts.

He pulled up every emotion he had and pushed it out of him with the ferocity of a charging ox, thrusting all that mind-muscle and energy at the inanimate object. The object complied, and moved slowly in the large craft’s direction. It not only complied, it allowed Jaxx to control it. He pushed harder, causing it to move faster, his heart beat picking up. His muscles squeezed, and he grunted, straining against a force he didn’t know he had control over until now.

It neared the damaged craft and Jaxx readjusted the object’s direction, aiming it toward the slit. Sweat dripped out of his pores, dripping down his cheeks. Jaxx had no time to watch the impact. His backward-facing eye alerted him to the fact that he was being targeted by the oncoming starfighter. For the first time in his life, he was wise to the fact that death for him was not an option. He needed to survive. He needed to come out of this a winner.

The enemy starfighter came out of its loop. Jaxx spun his starfighter around. He’d executed an impossible maneuver. He had willed himself to twist on a dime, and his starfighter had complied.

Weapon’s lock beeped on the starfighter heading right for him. Jaxx aimed and shot everything he had.

“What the...” Jaxx bolted up from the bed, blinking rapidly. He touched his forehead. His fingers wet with perspiration, his heart about thumped out of his chest.

“You came out of it, Kaden,” said Donny.

Jaxx took a few breaths. “I know the woman who helped me.”

Donny’s lips curled downward. “What do you mean?”

Slade leaned against the wall, one foot resting on the other. Jaxx’s focus expanded, much like it did when in the starfighter. It felt good. It felt powerful. It allowed him to draw the energy of the room to him. He sensed an impulsive thought from Slade. He needs pilots.

“What is it, Jaxx?” asked Slade.

“You need her. You’ve been looking for someone like her.”

Slade stepped forward. “How do you know what I need?”

“It came to me. You are searching for pilots.”

Slade bit his lips, pressing them together in a straight line. He gathered himself and stood like the military man he was. “What can you tell me about this woman I’ve allegedly been looking for? Is she in SSP? Is she still enlisted? If so, what’s her name? If not, where is she now?”

Jaxx didn’t know if it was a good idea to talk about her. Would Slade hunt her down, bring her here, make her do things against her will? Did he really know what Slade was up to? Shouldn’t he wait until his nephew came through with a report, so he’d know what he was up against? A new thought bubbled to the surface; a tactical thought; a political thought; not the kind of thought Jaxx was at all used to. Not naming her meant the power remained firmly in his court. He lied with a smile on his lips. “She perished.”

Slade deflated, his shoulders drooping. “I thought you were going to put on a good show for us, Jaxx. Good guess with what I was needing. You almost had me.”

“So,” said Donny. “Can you hear thoughts now?”

Jaxx’s power waned. He wasn’t the size of the room any more. He couldn’t feel Slade’s thoughts. He was Jaxx, archaeologist, Atlantean expert, widely regarded as a flake and a loser. He shrugged.

“No, he cannot,” Slade chimed in.

Donny nodded, emphatically. “Slade, you may find you’re mistaken. Many times after a hypnotherapy session, a patient can come away with extrasensory gifts.” He turned back to Jaxx. “What is it that you’re feeling, Kaden?”

Jaxx looked at the pen in Donny’s ear. The rage he felt for all his colleagues, peers, and skeptics who shunned his life’s work boiled in his veins. The name-calling, the labels they put him in and thrust in his face earthquaked to the surface. He shifted on the cot, allowing the emotion to travel, in a single bolt, from his blood to his heart. He asked the pen if he could partner with it. The pen agreed, a shifting taking place in his body, a jerk in his hands, a flinch in from his knees.

Fly from his ear, thought Jaxx. It wasn’t a request, it was an order.

The pen ejected from Donny’s ear and zipped across the cell, slamming into the wall, demolishing the plaster, leaving only the tip poking into the room. Donny lifted his hand to his ear and turned to see where the pen landed.

Jaxx grinned.

Donny’s mouth went wide; his eyes like saucers. If he wasn’t careful, his tongue would fall out of his mouth and he’d drool down his shirt. “Telekinesis,” he whispered.

Slade snorted. “Yeah, right.”

Donny whipped around and faced Slade, unusually agitated and direct. “How do you explain the pen flying across the room?”

“I don’t know. I don’t care. But if you think it moved because Jaxx made it move with his mind, then we may be needing a new doctor, Doctor.” Slade lowered his eyes, making sure Donny understood the threat.

Donny huffed. The guy probably had kids in college or a condo in Florida or some bills snapping at his heels, forcing him to keep his trap well and truly shut. Nothing of which Jaxx had. And the world didn’t reward blurty-mouth truth tellers. Instead, the world punished them. It rewarded yes-men and line-toers and mealy-mouthed worms who didn’t say what they should, when they should. Donny knew damned well Jaxx had made the pen embed itself in the wall. He was a coward not to admit it.

“Well, then nothing more from me today,” Donny mumbled. “If you two will excuse me.” He walked out of the room and disappeared around the corner.

“Get up, Jaxx. We have work to do.”

Jaxx moved to his feet. “What’s happening to me, Slade? Are you planting these memories in my head? What does the pen have to do with anything?”

“I’m not your damn psychologist, Jaxx.”

“What’s the Secret Space Program?”

“I suggest you keep your mouth shut about that. Not another word. Now, follow me.”

Jaxx screwed his intention all the way to the core and willed the door to fly off its hinges and slam Slade into the concrete floor. But, nothing. The moment passed. He was Jaxx again and had to do things the old-fashioned way. He plodded after his newest Master, determined to find out what he needed to find out in order to bend the world to his will.

8

May 25th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Jaxx was in the RIOUT room, his thoughts everywhere but there. He stood behind Jon Shaughnessy, watching the man do his best to translate glyph after glyph. If Donny was correct about hypnotherapy making one more intuitive, well, it wore off quickly. Jaxx could barely read his own mind right now.

Jaxx yawned. He should help Shaughnessy out, seeing he was the expert and Shaughnessy wasn’t. Shaughnessy didn’t ask for assistance though and Jaxx didn’t know if he should butt in or not. Maybe he wanted to figure it out himself. To learn as much as he could on his own.

Jaxx glanced around the room. Everyone worked diligently, all eyes on their computers.

An image materialized on the desk in the middle of the room. It caught Jaxx’s attention. Nobody noticed. He walked to it and watched the holographic image slowly spin. “Is this on Callisto?” he whispered to himself.

Before him stood rows and rows of jet-like craft much wider than any jet he’d witnessed before. They appeared to be on rock-like ground or upon hard soil. The image was black and white, so he couldn’t tell.

He hit the controls on the console and pivoted the image through ninety degrees. A domed structure set far off in the background, an obelisk stood even farther in the distance behind the dome.

He wanted to gape at the scene for hours, amazed that such elaborate creations so near, but so far away. Who could have built these? The symbol said Atlantis, and he trusted his translation, but if Atlanteans colonized Callisto, then how exactly had they made the atmosphere breathable?

Jaxx had his theories, but they were just that, theories. He had never been able to activate a pyramid to see if his hypothesis was correct; that pyramids were indeed terraforming devices.

He paced to Shaughnessy, touching his back. Jaxx thumbed over his shoulder. “What’s that?”

Shaughnessy swiveled in his chair. “That’s just an image taken several weeks ago from TECS IV.”

“TECS IV?”

Shaughnessy went back to studying his screen. “Just a government satellite. That’s what’s been taking the pictures for us and sending them back here.”

“Do—”

“Wait a minute,” Shaughnessy spun around in his seat. “New images pop up on that holoscreen, not old ones.”

Shaughnessy stood and made his way to the hologram. He rested his elbows on the table, dissecting every facet of the image. “Something in the terrain must have changed for TECS IV to send this picture to us. If everything on the ground had remained the same, the on-board computer would have no reason to record new images. Do you see anything?”

Jaxx yawned. Hypnotherapy took it out of him. “I’ve never seen this image before in my life.”

“When was this taken?” Shaughnessy pressed buttons on the desk. May 23rd displayed above the picture. “Yeah, this is new. It takes a couple days for TECS IV’s data to reach us.” He rested his chin on his palm, pouring over the photo like a mechanic over an engine. “This would be easier if...” Shaughnessy pressed a button on the desk and Jaxx jumped back as a keyboard extended. Shaughnessy nudged Jaxx out of the way and typed on the keyboard.

Another image sprang; two images of the same terrain side by side. One dated a few days ago and the other dated weeks back.

“What are the changes here?” said Shaughnessy, more to himself than to Jaxx.

Jaxx shrugged, nonchalantly. He wasn’t running on all cylinders. He felt as if he was in two worlds simultaneously. He yawned again, pointing to the image that dated back a few weeks, then snapped to attention. “I think that image has one more starfighter than the new one. There’s a starfighter missing from the newest shot.”

Shaughnessy smiled. “Yeah, right.” He started counting, then grabbed the edge of the desk to steady himself. “Uh…well…” He ran over to his computer, checking the images there, just in case the holoscreen was malfunctioning. It wasn’t.

Shaughnessy picked up his phone. “I’m calling Slade.”

Jaxx grasped Shaughnessy’s forearm. “Are you thinking someone actually flew off with a starfighter?”

Shaughnessy nodded, then put his finger up. “Slade, Shaughnessy here. We have a problem.” Shaughnessy bobbed his head up and down. “A code four-one-three, and I think it’s the real deal. Someone must have detected the structures on Callisto. And they are already there now. One of the starfighters is missing...yes, gone.”

Jaxx could hear Slade swearing up a blue streak on the other end of the phone. Slade rang off and Shaughnessy pocketed his phone.

“Who could already be on Callisto?”

Shaughnessy thought for a moment, most likely doing his best to figure out a way to answer. “We don’t know, but whoever it is must have discovered the structures before us. And they must be on Callisto right now.”

“If someone was there, wouldn’t that send a barrage of pictures from TECS IV to this facility?” Jaxx asked.

Shaughnessy touched the base of his neck. “Why would it do that?”

Jaxx felt like putting Shaughnessy and the rest of the scientists in a head lock and knocking on their heads. They couldn’t be that dense, but why weren’t they thinking the obvious? “You mentioned that a change would set off pictures from TECS IV.”

“Yes, and it has.”

“Well, whoever it is that is already there, must have gotten there via a ship. That ship would have set off TECS IV to take pictures of the ship’s movement, where it landed, and so on and so forth.” He bit his cheek. “Am I thinking too much into this? Would it not detect that type of change?”

“It’s designed to detect changes and movement and snap a picture of the change and/or movement. I should know. I helped design and build the satellite. But, if a person was walking or running on that moon, that would be too small to detect.”

“God, do I need to spell it out?”

Fortunately, he didn’t. Another scientist was on the same wavelength. “Shaughnessy, how many images were sent today. Just this one?”

Shaughnessy tapped on his keyboard, looking it up. He squinted. “This is unreal. How did I not see this? It sent twenty-two pictures.”

Slade slammed through the doors and marched to the hologram. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Shaughnessy complied. They huddled around the holoscreen, watching images of the starfighter lifting into the air. Each successive picture showed it rising higher and higher off the ground. Shaughnessy tapped on his screen, then went to the hologram, pushing scientists out of the way, waiving his arm over the new image he just transferred from his computer to the holoscreen. “Look at the time. It hovered for eleven minutes. It then left so fast that TECS IV was unable to take another picture.”

Slade loomed over the image. “That’s not our propulsion technology.”

“It’s the technology Shaughnessy and I deciphered yesterday,” added Jaxx. “The Atlantean propulsion system.” He stepped forward, shaking his hands in a futile effort to relax. What he was about to say was not going to be popular. “If this is what we think it is, then we’re not dealing with any ships coming from Earth, or ships coming from any other system for that matter. If a ship entered Callisto’s atmosphere and landed there, the satellite would have taken pictures of that ship. Instead, all we have are pictures of a starfighter taking off from Callisto’s surface. Since TECS IV can’t pick up small movement, like people walking from place to place, then I think I know what’s going on.” He paused, surprised to see everyone actually paying attention to him. “I think we’re dealing with people or Beings still living on Callisto.”

Slade looked down for a second. “Very perceptive, Mr. Jaxx.”

“Did you know about this?” Jaxx asked.

“It was always a possibility.”

“Then we can’t go there.”

Slade crossed his arms and widened his stance. “Why is that?”

“It’s no longer an archaeological site. It’s someone’s home.”

“We don’t know who flew that starfighter off that moon,” Slade replied. “Let’s not speculate. We need to find out for a fact who it was.”

“And when you do, how do we approach them?” Shaughnessy inquired.

Slade eyes were cold and hard. “Peacefully.”

9

May 26th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Again, Jaxx couldn’t sleep. He tossed in his bed only to throw the sheets off and head to the bathroom. He turned on the light, then splashed water on his face.

This project had been gifted to him by the archaeological gods, but Slade was anything but a gift. More of a demon. Intuition or not, Jaxx could tell Slade held back more information than he gave. Why? Why not tell your Atlantean expert everything you knew about Atlantean artifacts on a far-off moon? Did they think he was a security risk? A liability? Jaxx sagged. Possible, especially after the stunt he pulled with the glossies. Then again, maybe it had nothing to do with him. Maybe holding information close was par for the course with government heads and jerk-ish lower-level government employees.

He looked in the mirror and froze. Someone stared back. His face, his eyes, but not his outfit. He wore a military uniform, more like a jumpsuit, with a star insignia on the pocket, the letters SSP just below.

He splashed his face a second time. It was past midnight, Doctor Donny was nowhere on site, and he did not need some auto-suggestion nonsense playing out in the mirror. Those assholes were not going to control him. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the image of himself away. When he had regulated his breathing and was confident he was fully awake, he opened his eyes and looked back into the mirror.

“Oh, shit.” He started, then grabbed the side of the sink to steady himself.

A beautiful woman, light-brown skin, black curly hair in braids draping over both of her shoulders, glared.

Her mouth moved, “Help me.”

Jaxx jerked back again, this time more violently. “Rivkah Ravenwood.”

It was her. The woman who’d been part of his hypnotherapy session. Perhaps the mirror was a screen. Perhaps Slade or Donny projected images onto the back of his mirror, just to mess with him. Then again, how would they know the “she” he’d spoken of was Rivkah?

Her face faded. Jaxx stepped back and tripped over the lip of the bathtub and crashed into it, taking the shower curtain and the rod with him. Wading through the curtain, he pushed up and out of the bathtub to look into the mirror.

He saw himself in his boxers, disheveled hair, and shadows under his eyes. It was him, now. His mind back to normal, or as normal as possible in a time like this.

“I gotta find a way to get those assholes out of my head.”

Jaxx turned the bathroom light off and went to bed. He covered himself in the sheets and closed his eyes.

“Help me.” Rivkah’s voice rang in his ears.

He turned, covering his ears.

“Help me.”

He sat up. “Leave me alone.”

He heard her voice’s echo, like a creeping mist, blanketing his brain. He had to walk this off. It didn’t matter if Captain Richard Bloody Fox stood out there or not. In fact, he probably was, especially if Slade said Richard had his eyes on him at all times.

He put his clothes on and sauntered out into the hall.

“What the hell are you doing, Jaxx? Get your ass back in that room.” Fox butted against the wall across from Jaxx’s door.

“I can’t sleep. Care to walk with me?”

He knew the answer before Fox spoke.

Fox gave a sly grin. “You walk. I’ll follow.”

“You don’t want to be extra close? Hold hands, perhaps?”

“Screw off.” He shoved off the wall and prodded Jaxx to start walking.

Jaxx rolled his eyes and walked down the hall, down other hallways, up stairs, down stairs, waving at guards. This was all fine and dandy, but he wasn’t getting lethargic and Fox continued to follow him occasionally speaking gibberish codes in his communication’s device.

“You about done walking, Mr. Jaxx?”

Jaxx twisted around and started to walk backwards, facing Fox. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“No.”

“Do you really think I’m a threat? I’m an archaeologist, for crying out loud.”

Fox bared his teeth. “Then why in shits-hell-hole did you take the pictures, Jaxx? If I was Slade, you’d be digging ditches with inmates.” But we need you.

“What did you just say?” asked Jaxx, turning down another hallway and passing doors, hoping he didn’t wake other scientists.

“I said I’d send you to prison, you son of a bitch.”

“No, after that.”

Fox stopped, and shot him an odd look. “You hearing things, Jaxx?”

Jaxx paused and tried to extend his mind field into Fox’s thoughts. Apparently it didn’t work that way. All he got was some crappy 70’s disco song on a loop. Something about a “starship trooper.”

“I told Slade not to trust you the moment we took off in the helicopter in Peru,” said Fox. “We don’t take kindly to those who defected from the SSP.”

“Defected?”

A voice came over Fox’s radio. “Code one-one-nine. We need you up top, Captain. Code one-one-nine.”

Fox didn’t hide his irritation. “Get back to your room.” He took off at a fast clip, leaving Jaxx by himself.

“SSP? Defected? How could I defect from a fictional organization that Slade and Doctor Donny put in my head?” Fox believed it though. You didn’t need to be a mind reader to figure that out.

“How could I defect from the SSP? To where?”

He headed back to his room, chewing over what Fox spit out.

Now, he wanted answers more than ever. Screw jail time. If they caught him, so be it. They’d let him out again. They needed him. There were Beings on Callisto, Beings who perhaps wrote—or better yet—spoke Atlantean. Who else on Earth knew Atlantean? No one. He was safe.

He jogged to the RIOUT room, making his way to another computer. He turned the screen on, adjusting the brightness as low as his eyes could tolerate.

He searched the computer’s database for SSP. Nothing came up. He searched under Slade Roberson. Again, nothing spectacular. Next, he searched Richard Fox. Nothing.

Duh, spell it out, Jaxx.

He typed in Secret Space Program.

Zilch.

This wasn’t the computer he needed.

He leaned back, scratching his head, catching something peculiar on the screen. The term secret brought up something else, secret syllabary.

What an odd term. He scrolled down to the “syllabary” and clicked. The file opened up a list of photos, all images from the TECS IV satellite.

He clicked on a picture dated May 9th. A hieroglyph in Atlantean writing. A closeup, yet he couldn’t see if it was on a pyramid or another structure. Yet, easy to decipher; water symbol, bird carrying a branch, the sign of the zodiac symbol for the age of Leo, and the winged disk.

His mind calmed, as if the Atlantean hieroglyphs were the only things in the room, or in life for that matter. Water and the bird carrying the branch meant the last great flood. Not the only flood in Earth’s history. His studies had found several great deluges throughout time. This, however, was the most recent. The sign of Leo gave it away. It coincided with the end of the Atlantean era—12,500 years ago—around the time of the last ice age melt. Now, the winged disk was odd. That meant many things in one ornate hieroglyph. The sun passed through the center of the winged disk which represented the sacred gateway into the next age of the Zodiak. The center of the disk, however, wasn’t hollow like it should have been. Instead, it had another circle in the middle, though slightly smaller and pock-marked.

He clicked out of there and went straight to the internet, typing in Callisto.

As he suspected and should have remembered from when he first entered Underfoot Black, Callisto was pock-marked. It told Jaxx that the gateway was either Callisto or the gateway landed the Atlanteans on Callisto. Either way, the circle in the middle of the disk was most likely the Jupiter moon.

The wings of the disk represented flight. Why would they have a gateway to Callisto and then flight?

“That doesn’t make sense. Did they fly to Callisto or use a gateway to get to Callisto? Both? Are there two ways to get to Callisto?”

The symbols confirmed that the Atlanteans created the structures on Callisto during the last great deluge, at least to Jaxx. He slumped in his chair. He was on the cusp of a great discovery, but if he told any of the other scientists on the team, apart from Jon Shaughnessy, they’d laugh him out the room.

He went back to the file and clicked on the next image. The time on the computer’s clock showed only a few more hours until work started.

He pulled up more glyphs. A basket with a handle on the right side, a bird looking west, a greeting hand, a sun, and a symbol for water. The hieroglyphs directly below were the serpent, a bird looking west, and another basket with the handle on the left side.

If he knew which type of building this was etched on instead of this zoomed in portion of a wall, it would be much easier to figure out, because right now those glyphs didn’t make sense.

“The western bird fills the cup as the hand which greets life lifts the cup to the sun, creating rain. The snake and the western bird reverse the cup.”

That told Jaxx nothing. He tried again.

“The western bird. The cup. The hand which greets life. The sun. Water. Then the snake. The western bird again. The cup, though reversed.” He pinched his lip. “The reversed cup has to mean something.”

He read it backwards.

“The reversed cup delivered by the western bird to the snake.”

The western bird must be Callisto. The snake had to be Earth. Wait, maybe these were ancient alien Beings?

It meant something.

“What if this wasn’t a saying.” Sometimes hieroglyphs were mere letters. Jaxx decided to spell it out. He gasped, held his breath, then released. “Impossible.”

He read it again, rubbing absently at his arms. “No way.”

This couldn’t be a coincidence.

It read, “Kaden Jaxx.”

10

May 26th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

It was late night and Drew needed to get things done. A deadline due and uncle Kaden Jaxx in need. Which outweighed the other?

Perhaps he’d hurry through his deadline then finish the investigation on the GSA and this Slade character. Yet, he couldn’t get Slade out of his mind, as if someone had stamped a mental image of the guy in his brain. The little amount he found out about Slade intrigued him a lot more than his deadline for World News Network. In fact, the deadline with WNN had been off his mind for a couple of days.

He grabbed his laptop and sat on his couch, placing his feet on the coffee table, knocking his bong over and spilling water and ashes of burnt weed onto the table. Dirty water mixed with marijuana smoke created a nasty stench.

He rushed to a towel lying on his table, still there since the last spill. He wiped it up quickly.

He needed an inside lead on this Slade dude.

He reached for his cell phone. He dialed a number knowing at this hour it would go to voicemail. Ann Maddox, his contact at NASA.

“Hi Ann. I was wondering if you could get me an inside line to someone in the Global Safety Administration? Give me a call when you can.” He was about to hang up, almost forgetting whose number he wanted. “Oh, I’m looking for Colonel Slade Roberson. And while you’re at it, can you look up some information about Terra Energy Corporation for me? I’m sure NASA has a lot more information than I could ever get.”

He hung up the phone and brought up his email. Drew hadn’t replied to Jaxx’s email. He decided to leave a short, but critical note.

Hi Jaxx

It’s great to hear from you.

I’m on it.

Sincerely,

Werd

11

May 26th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Jaxx laid in his bed staring at the ceiling, something he did more and more, even though being late to the RIOUT room pissed Slade off maximally. He couldn’t help it. He needed time and space to think.

The symbols spelled out Kaden Jaxx. He must have read the Atlantean hieroglyphs incorrectly. Plus, the symbol for x was also the symbol for y and z. And always up to the archaeologist’s interpretation. It could have been Kaden Jayy or Kaden Jazy or the list could go on and on.

It clearly spelled Kaden, though.

Why would any Atlantean scribe etch his name in a stone wall, on a moon orbiting Jupiter? He wasn’t important, hadn’t made his mark in the world, wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans according to his physics professor. He was having delusions of grandeur.

Beings on a colony thousands of years old wouldn’t write his name. Admitting he was crazy and that his peers were right crossed his mind.

He’d needed a second look.

Jaxx jumped into the shower, scrubbed himself down, and washed his hair. As he rinsed, a flash of inspiration to polish his shoes popped into his mind. He laughed. Out loud. For at least a minute. He lost his damned mind.

He reached for his towel and let out a yell. He brought his hand back into the shower, looked it over. He did his best to breathe through the sudden shock. Someone touched his arm.

Not only delusions of grandeur, he manifested fake ghosts.

He reached for the towel again, and pulled it into the shower and dried off. He slid the curtain open and yelled a second time, slumping against the side wall.

A woman, with black, curly hair, gave him a deathly stare. Then faded away.

Rivkah?

It was her. He was sure of it. Why was he hallucinating her again?

Please don’t tell me this place is haunted. He chuckled. “Don’t psych yourself out, Jaxx.” Everything here was new and stressful. His brain was doing its best to cope with everything thrown at him. Ghosts weren’t real. Telekinesis wasn’t real. The Secret Space Program wasn’t real. Rivkah wasn’t real.

“Get that fake shit out of your mind, Jaxx,” he said.

The only thing real in his life right now was Underfoot Black and the operation.

He got dressed and headed to the RIOUT room.

Slade glared at him the second he walked in. “God dammit, Kaden Jaxx. Nice of you to show up.” Slade pointed to Shaughnessy’s station. “Don’t keep Shaughnessy waiting. Help him figure out what he’s looking at.” He pulled out a piece of gum, unwrapped it, and slid it in his mouth.

Jaxx pressed his elbows to his side, making himself as small as possible. He gave Slade a nod and walked over to Shaughnessy’s station.

“Hey, man,” said Shaughnessy. He made a sidelong glance toward Slade, keeping his head still. He talked softly. “You need to come in on time, my man. It looked like he was crapping his pants pacing the room waiting for you. Plus, you’ll piss off the rest of the scientists here.”

Jaxx frowned. “I don’t think I could get any more unpopular than I already am.”

“Yeah, I think you could.” Shaughnessy chuckled and tapped on his screen. “Help me with this? This is the size of the Great Pyramid of Giza. It’s the big one on Callisto. What do you think about these glyphs at the base?”

Jaxx sat at Shaughnessy’s computer station and nudged the tip of his toe on the laptop underneath the desk.

“Watch it,” came Shaughnessy.

“Why do you have a laptop under there anyway?”

Shaughnessy looked over his shoulder, no doubt to make sure Slade hadn’t heard Jaxx’s question. He rested his hand on the back of Jaxx’s chair, whispering, “I’ve been given the shitty and stressful job of maintaining a backup laptop, just in case Underfoot Black has an emergency evacuation. If it does, this laptop has all the information stored from all the computers in this room.” Slade paced toward them. “Anyway, back to the size of the Great Pyramid of Giza.”

Jaxx paused. He gave Shaughnessy a double take. “Hold on. Did you say this pyramid on Callisto is the exact size of the Great Pyramid of Giza?”

“Yeah. It’s a big blighter.”

“How do you know it’s the exact size?”

“We measured the dimensions. It’s identical. Of course, it weighs a lot less because of the gravity difference on Callisto. Although, I wouldn’t be surprised if it had the exact number of stones as the Great Pyramid of Giza.”

“Why would they make it the exact dimensions?”

Shaughnessy shrugged, half smiling. “You mean why would the Atlanteans give it the exact dimension?”

Shaughnessy was either making fun of him or was on board with Jaxx’s theory. Either way, he didn’t care. He just wanted to get to the truth.

Jaxx cleared his throat. “I’m not one hundred percent positive that the Atlanteans made these structures on Callisto, but if they did, I’d love to know why they’d make a duplicate of the Great Pyramid of Giza.”

Shaughnessy rubbed his hands together. “Why?”

“I mean, how many more clues can they give us?”

“Clues that they are Atlantean?”

Jaxx cocked his head to the side. “Whether the people who built this specific pyramid on Callisto were Atlantean or not isn’t what I am getting at. What I’m getting at is that the people who created this pyramid were from Earth and not from another system or planet altogether.” Jaxx gestured toward the screen. “They are giving us clue after clue.”

Shaughnessy put out his hands, shaking his head. “Uh...can you enlighten me, Atlantis boy?”

Jaxx shot him a look, then sagged in his chair. Atlantis boy? That must be my nickname. Could be worse. “How many days does it take for Earth to orbit the sun?”

“365 days.”

“Almost, but in actuality Earth orbits the sun in 365.24 days, not just 365 days. That’s why we have a leap year. Now, bear with me on this as I explain what I’m getting at here.”

Shaughnessy gave Jaxx a look, a look Jaxx had seen many times. It said, “don’t geek out on me, dude. Just cut to the damned chase.” It didn’t matter. Jaxx needed Shaughnessy to understand the ins and outs of his theory. He needed to geek out on the details, big time. He took another deep breath and launched into his lecture.

“The Atlanteans worked with sacred geometry, something lost to our modern-day science. Sacred geometry ascribes symbolic or sacred universal patterns in the design of reality, including mathematics and geometric shapes. That’s how they were able to create the pyramids in pi and phi ratio and sequences, along with creating perfect Pythagorean triangles within these pyramids. No structure on Earth comes close to the way the great pyramids were built. In fact, the blocks they were created from are cut at 1/100th of absolute geometric and mathematical perfection.

“Everything the Atlanteans did with the creation of pyramids had a reason. And we can see this with this pyramid on Callisto, if it truly is in exact dimension and proportion as the Great Pyramid of Giza. When you measure the Great Pyramid of Giza, you’ll find that all four walls are a total of 36,524 inches in length. 36,524 inches in length correlates with 365.24 days of Earth’s orbit around the sun. This is a hint that the Beings who created this pyramid on Callisto were from Earth and not someplace else.”

Shaughnessy scratched his chin. “I see. Jupiter and Callisto don’t have the same orbit as Earth. It takes years for Jupiter to do a full orbit around the sun. This is conclusive evidence for you, though?”

“To me, yes. It’s just another piece to this ever-growing puzzle. In the most simplistic terms, the measurement of the big pyramid on Callisto asks us to look at Earth, not at any other planetary system that we know of. Why else would they replicate the exact dimension of the Great Pyramid of Giza?”

“Perhaps to look at Earth for the best source of life? I mean, how many habitable planets are out there? Maybe that’s why they built all sides to equal 36,524 inches, to point to another viable home? It could be that simple.”

“Perhaps. Or, it could mean a lot more. That’s why we need to keep digging.”

Slade’s boots clacked as he approached. “Mr. Jaxx, can I see you in the hall?”

Jaxx leaned slightly away from Slade. “Sure.”

He followed Slade into the hall and closed the door behind him.

Slade crossed his arms, chewing loudly. He gave a wink, something he did too often, never mind chewing that gum. “I’m thinking you need some time in the Sendep Unit?”

Jaxx swallowed. Hostility came from Slade. “What do you mean?”

Slade crossed his arms, chewing louder. He stood as stoic as possible. “You’re not firing on all cylinders, Jaxx. We need you to rack focus. Time in the tank will help with that.”

“The tank?”

“Ye gods. What have I told you about the damned echo? You make me insane. Sendep, Sensory Deprivation. I’ve recommended Donny take you there, before your next session.”

Slade was a mess of contradictions. He wanted something from him, but resented him for it. Still, Jaxx was buggered if he knew what it was Slade wanted. “What do you think I’ll uncover?”

Slade shrugged. “You’re on a path, Jaxx. An important path. You know more than you think you know and I want to help you dig into it. Look at it as mental archeology. You’re a gold mine. We’re teaching you how to mine that gold. You’re meeting Donny at 0400 hours. Do not be late.” Slade turned on his heel, in his usual military manner, and strode away.

“Did you or did you not plant those memories in my brain? I mean, the Secret Space Program?”

Slade turned and squinted at Jaxx. “Yeah. We did plant those memories. It’s all part of the plan. The memories are fixed in your mind via a technology tool we use during the session.”

Jaxx held up a hand, requesting permission to speak.

“Don’t ask me to explain how it works. It’s not my area of expertise.” Slade looked everywhere but in Jaxx’s eyes. “When you go through those sessions, the installed memories help with uncovering more information about you.” He folded his hands behind his back and raised his chin high, chest out and held his body away from Jaxx. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you from the beginning.”

Everything about Slade was off, wrong, giving him bad juju. It came to him in a flash, Slade lied. The straight face, the words that came out of him at a steady pace—no lilting tells or stutters or pauses that suggested he made it up as he went along—but, at the same time, he couldn’t keep steady eye contact.

Jaxx felt it, almost like a punch in the heart. His world tilted and swayed. He wished he hadn’t asked Slade those questions. He knew, deep in his gut, that the hypnotherapy sessions had nothing to do with planting false memories in his mind. Every ounce of what he was experiencing here in Underfoot Black was real. The pyramids on Callisto, the glyphs that spelled out his name, Rivkah pleading for his help, and his time in the Secret Space Program. Real. He had no clue how the puzzle pieces fit together, but they did, and the picture they started to paint was dark and menacing. These men were up to no good and making him a part of their plan was pure evil. He felt the blood drain from his face. It was all he could do not to throw up.

Slade grinned. “You know what? Take the rest of the day off. I can see you’re still a little bit sleepy. Get your head straight. We’ll be changing things up tomorrow. I’ll have a new program for you in the morning. If you want to continue to research the Atlanteans on Callisto, you can do so, but we’ll just be showing you glyphs. I have specific ones I want you to look at and translate for us. Hell, we’ll put you in a different room and call it Project Atlantis. Are you fine with that?” He slapped Jaxx’s shoulder.

Why the sudden change in Slade’s mood? Slade didn’t seem like the guy willing or wanting to please anyone, especially if there wasn’t an upside for him. Perhaps Slade had a bit of politician in him after all.

“I’m fine with that. Can Shaughnessy accompany me in that new room?”

“No.” Slade gave him a few more pats as he walked back into the RIOUT room. “To your room, Jaxx.”

Jaxx turned to find Fox standing behind him. Fox slapped the top of his rifle. “Got my eyes on you, boy.”

“Why so much aggression towards me? You say I defected, but I don’t know what that means.”

Fox’s eyes turned colder. “You abandoned us. What you did deserves nothing less than a shot between the eyes, you miserable-ass traitor.”

Jaxx put his palms out, doing his best to calm Fox. “If you can just explain what you think I did, then maybe we can chalk this up as just simple miscommunication. Maybe we could have a counseling session with that Donny guy and—”

“Are you shitting me? This isn’t some Dr. Phil episode. Get to your Goddamn room before I make you clean the toilets with your tongue.”

12

May 27th ~ Star Warden – Second Class Star Carrier – Secret Space Program ~ P-Quadrant, Solar System (Near Pluto, Edge of Kuiper Belt)

Callisto was a moon much like Earth’s moon. Tidally locked to Jupiter, it orbited synchronously and rotated on its own axis in the same direction that it orbited around Jupiter. The same side of Callisto consistently faced Jupiter—the very side the structures were located on.

The Star Carrier’s large view screen pulled up an image of a satellite orbiting the Jupiter moon. Admiral Gentry Race, wearing an officer’s uniform to match his credentials, paced the Star Carrier’s bridge. “We weren’t notified by United States Command of this satellite?” He stopped in mid-stride and faced the screen. He scratched his graying goatee, waiting for an answer.

The captain at the helm, Katherine Bogle, typed on the clear disk attached to her captain’s chair. “Negative, Sir.”

Gentry sighed. “This is rogue?”

“Possibly.”

The officers stationed at the rear of the bridge studied their holographic monitors for any evidence that this satellite was truly rogue. Sometimes corporations launched dual satellites in orbit, while only registering one with the government. This was always for corporate interests, whether it be to spy on their competitors or on their own government, but never before had a corporate satellite reached this far into the Solar System.

Until now.

An officer spoke. “It’s not registered to any business or corporation. However, computer analysis says that a lock chip inside the satellite was invented by a Terra Energy Corp.”

Gentry turned, intrigued.

The officer continued, “It looks as if Terra Energy Corp has a contract with GSA, the Global Safety Administration.”

Gentry grinned, though he didn’t mean it. It was more of a “pissed-off, I can’t believe my own ears, what has the world come to?” expression. Gentry hid it well. “That’s the agency Colonel Slade Roberson oversees. I should have known.”

Captain Bogle perked up. “The satellite is taking pictures. I’m extracting the data from the satellite right now and putting it on the view screen.”

Images of pyramids, statues, and grounded starfighters tiled the screen.

Gentry’s stomach hardened. If it had been appropriate to say, “What the Hell?” Gentry would have and done so with gusto. But, being an admiral only allowed bluntness during combat, and even that he frowned upon. A gasp would have to suffice for right now. Gentry was trained and stoicism was his route to emotion.

“You’re sure the pictures are of structures on Callisto?”

“Yes, Sir,” replied Bogle.

“We haven’t explored Callisto?”

“No, Sir.”

Gentry crossed his arms at his chest, then scratched his chin again. “We’re changing course. Get us and the fleet inside J-quadrant. We don’t approach Callisto until we know who is there...or was there.”He rested his hands on his hips. “Special Agent Nick Cole?”

A man stepped from the shadows. He had a large frame and wore a thick titanium suit, helmet on. “Yes, Sir.”

“I may task you onto Slade. Be ready at any moment. Slade may have something up his sleeve we don’t know about.”

“Aye, Sir.” He stepped back into the shadows.

13

May 27th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

A few minutes past midnight and agitation filled Jaxx. Fox hadn’t been standing sentry, so he’d managed to sneak into the RIOUT room, unchecked. He went to his masked email account. Not even the most rigorous firewalls on the planet would be able to detect either his incoming or outgoing messages. He was glad to see that Drew replied. The message was short, but Drew was willing to help out. Jaxx sat back in his chair and let the relief wash over him for a brief moment. He had a powerful ally on the outside.

Jaxx searched the photo database. He pulled up as many images as he could—pyramids, domes, symbols, and other structures he hadn’t seen before. He eyed a Stonehenge-style rock formation and what appeared to be a large landing pad. He attached the polyatomic ion-propulsion symbols to an email, wishing he could explain each one, along with the images he’d be sending. Time, however, wasn’t on his side. Fox could be snooping around at any second. He didn’t have the luxury of the kind of details and interesting explanations he knew Drew loved.

Drew, listen to me. I’m seeing shit that is as science fiction as it comes. What I’m about to write may sound implausible, but believe me, the pictures I’m attaching are just as space age as it gets. I hope you can trust me and help. I feel like I’m in a time crunch here.

First off, please find out if these images are real and let me know. You know how to do all that Photoshop shit and detect the fakes. This might be the story of the century for you and for everyone. It may even prove that my research isn’t in vain and that pyramids were built by Atlanteans, even those on Callisto…

Jaxx flicked a look behind him and through the door’s window and out into the hall. Nothing. He went back to typing.

I’m under an island in a facility called Underfoot Black. I’m getting mixed signals here. The GSA headed by Colonel Slade Roberson plans on going to Callisto, a Jupiter moon, using a propulsion system I decoded from glyphs on a structure on Callisto. As you will see in the images, there are structures on that moon, which I believe were created by the Atlanteans of our past. I’ve decoded the symbol for “Atlantis” and have seen Atlantean writing on the walls of the Callisto structures.

Believe me when I say this, I believe with all my being that the Atlanteans are still there. I don’t think the Colonel has the best interests at heart for anyone currently residing on that moon. It’s more of a feeling than anything else. I need your kick-ass research to figure out who Slade is and if there truly is a threat, or if I’m just out of my mind with that thinking.

Also, can you look up a woman by the name of Rivkah Ravenwood? She is important for some reason. She might be a piece of the puzzle that I’m trying to figure out. She was in something called the SSP (I shit you not. There’s a “Secret Space Program”). I want to figure out if she is even real or a figment of my imagination, I’ll explain about that later.

What I

The door burst open and Jaxx pushed back from his chair and stood, arms up, heart pounding.

“Don’t move a muscle.” Fox stood in an archer’s position, rifle aimed at Jaxx. “This is my lucky day, Jaxx. Redemption time. Traitor.”

Jaxx took a deep breath. “I’m not trying to hurt you or anyone else.”

“Really? I think you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Jaxx bit his lip. How was he going to get out of this one? “Please put the gun down.”

“I don’t take orders from civilians.”

“Then, what are you going to do? Shoot me?” He regretted the question the moment it came out of his mouth.

Fox dipped his head. “You’re getting the idea. If not, the least I could do is take you to lockup or tie a rope around your neck and hang you from your bunk.” He shrugged. “I don’t know. So many ideas have crawled through my head for so many years.”

Jaxx felt like putting his hands up higher to let Fox know he wasn’t there to hurt anyone. He wanted to stall the psycho. He had to think of something outlandish to keep Fox talking or to get Fox’s mind on someone else. “Are you pissed because Slade plans to dunk me in the tank? Get the memory acquisition to speed up?”

Fox paused for a moment. He squinted harshly. “Nice try, Jaxx. I don’t give a hot shit what you pretend you’ve forgotten. I know who you are, what you are. Why are you in the RIOUT room and typing on a computer?”

“I need answers, Fox. I need to know what this mission is all about. I am half in the light, half in the dark. I’m doing what I love, but without any clue why. Help a guy out, would you? Tell me why I am here.”

“I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire,” said Fox. “You’re a traitor. By now, during your hypnotherapy sessions with Dr. Donny, you’ve probably uncovered that you defected from the Secret Space Program to help our enemy, the Taiyonians.”

“The who?” He shook his head. “I’ve only had two se—”

Fox clenched his jaw. “Slade on the other hand wants to milk you for information that can benefit our trip to Callisto. He’s got some hair-brained idea that you know something useful. That much you know. The rest, well, you’ll probably never find out if I can convince Slade that once a defector, always a defector.”

“Who are the Taiyonians?”

Fox stepped forward. “Don’t play coy with me, asshole. When you were in the SSP you were a great asset. In fact, even I was impressed with your skills.” He shoved the rifle forward. “Then you left your squadron, our squadron.”

“What squadron?”

Fox clicked on his communication device. “Slade, I have Jaxx in front of me. He was snooping around the RIOUT room and checking out images on one of the computers in here. I’m positive he’s sending information to someone we’d not approve. I knew he wouldn’t change. I’m about to pull this trigger on this low-life, slime-bucket and I don’t know if I can stop myself. Come soon.”

“Do not pull that trigger, Fox! I’ll be right there. Out.”

Fox gave a sly smile. “He ain’t gonna be happy, Jaxx.”

Jaxx’s heart raced faster, perspiration dotted his forehead.

Fox blew an exasperated breath. “Maybe a long time in prison will set you straight.”

Jaxx wouldn’t have access to the images of Callisto from a computer behind bars. That meant the email had to go out to Drew now.

He eyed Fox’s rifle, bringing up every emotion he had, and thrust it towards the rifle.

Nothing happened. The rifle didn’t fly across the room like Donny’s pen. Telekinesis took a rain check. Maybe it was all a setup and he never had the powers in the first place. He’d have to do it the hard way. Jaxx kept his hands up and slowly lowered himself onto the chair. “I just have to do one thing.”

“I told you not to move. Stand up.”

“I’m not doing anything illegal or bad.” He turned, facing the computer. He put his hand on the mouse, directing the mouse icon over the send button. “I just have to—”

A gunshot cracked the air and Jaxx fell forward, his chest bouncing hard off the edge of the desk. He fell back, his left shoulder numb, blood splattered all over the screen. Everything went silent. Jaxx’s breaths came quick and shallow, his left arm useless.

He raised his right arm, grabbed the chair and pulled himself up, dazed. He swiveled the chair around to see where Fox was, his vision fazing in and out. Fox yelled something Jaxx couldn’t quite make out. He wanted to tell Fox that he surrendered. It could give him another few seconds to send the email.

He tried to speak, but nothing. Jaxx raised his good arm, waiving it like a white flag of surrender. His left shoulder ached, the thick, wet blood dripping off his fingertips. His head bobbed down towards his chest and his vision almost faded. He figured he didn’t have much more life left in him. It didn’t matter anymore that Drew dug up information for him. What mattered now was for Drew to get this information out to the world.

Fox closed one eye, aiming at his target—Jaxx. His finger gently touched the trigger just as Slade came running into the room, reaching for Fox.

An instant too late.

Another blast fired from the rifle and Jaxx went flying back out of his seat and against the computer. He slid off the chair and onto his knees, cringing in pain. He spat out blood, iron, and salt burning in his throat, as if the bullet’s innards were traveling its way up from the wound.

His breaths changed, harder. He glanced down at his chest. Blood oozed down onto the floor, his sternum collapsed inward. He lifted his good hand up, fumbling with the mouse. He clicked it several times before collapsing to the floor, hoping the mouse’s arrow still hovered on the send button. If so, the email delivered the attachments to Drew. If not, then Jaxx figured he signed his own death warrant for nothing.

14

May 29th ~ Star Warden – Second Class Star Carrier – Secret Space Program ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System (Near Jupiter)

Admiral Gentry Race’s fleet sat .39 Astronomical Units from Callisto, approximately thirty-six million miles from the moon. They’d been there, waiting, for two days. Waiting for the Global Safety Administration, namely Colonel Slade Roberson, to return their Interstellar Phone Calls. IPCs shouldn’t take that long. Slade purposely stalled. But Admiral Race couldn’t jump the gun. He needed more information before they moved any closer to Callisto. Was it inhabited? If so, were the inhabitants friendly? Had the GSA made contact? Had they signed treatise? What in the name of all that was good and holy was the damned status? He ignored the urge, as he always did, to punch something, very hard.

They were being ignored by the Global Safety Administration. Or, more likely, the Global Safety Administration was pissing their pants this very instant with the knowledge that he, and by extension the Secret Space Program, knew about the structures on Callisto. GSA’s rogue satellite had been detected. That wasn’t a good predicament, especially if the satellite didn’t go through the government protocols for approval. The Secret Space Program had the right to retrieve corporate rogue satellites without asking. He reached out to Slade as a courtesy; old colleagues and all that rot.

Gentry walked over to the central display in the middle of the bridge. It was a large table fitted with small laser mounts, each projecting a single laser beam that split into two beams by a special lens. The Holographic Lectern. On display were holographic images of the fleet and the fleet’s health constitution data.

He tapped the Lectern, about to order another IPC to the Global Safety Administration, when Captain Bogle spoke, “Bringing up energy signatures on the Lectern. This is unbelievable.” She gave a slow shake of her head.

Gentry drew back when a pyramid materialized on the Lectern. A bar chart of heat, electricity, and electromagnet radiation appeared next to the pyramid.

Bogle walked to him, placing both hands on the Lectern. “The chart shows exactly what the satellite detected from Callisto’s largest pyramid.”

Heat at minimal levels. Electromagnetic radiation safe. Electricity, on the other hand, off the charts. Energy signatures high enough to power a megalopolis on Earth blipped on the hologram. Either left on by the last inhabitants of the moon, or someone currently lived there.

“Tell the rest of the fleet to remain here. We’re going in for a closer look. This is an asset and belongs to the American people. It’s not going to fall into private hands. If that asshole thinks otherwise, he has another thing coming. Leave Slade another IPC message. Let him know that we know.”

* * *

Gentry sat at his small Lectern in the Admiral Quarters, letting the Rapid Ion Drives—RI Drives—propel his ship closer to his objective, Callisto. Jupiter just off in the distance; a beauty in the darkness of space.

Still no word from Slade.

He dialed up an image of Earth, taken by an SSP satellite in lower orbit. The smell of coffee filled his room. He picked up his mug and took a sip. He moved his finger across the image of the Earth, zeroing in on a target. North America.

Each human had a distinct ID, fingerprints. He touched another portion of the hologram, pulling up Slade’s. “Where are you? Where? Are? You? Where did you take your SSP retired ass?”

He pressed on Slade’s fingerprints and dragged it over to North America. The Lectern ran a search, the results pulling up a few seconds later.

SPECIFY SUBJECT’S LOCATION BY YEAR

LOCATE SUBJECT’S CURRENT AND PRESENT LOCATION

NEW SEARCH

He waived his finger over present location. The Lectern searched. Gentry folded his hands, waiting for his results.

Star Warden flew slowly, cautiously. Just in case. Gentry had been in combat with races from other systems. If there was a race living on Callisto, he didn’t want to find himself and his crew in the middle of an ambush.

Where is Slade? His search on the Lectern took longer than normal. Is he off planet?

He leaned in, resting his chin on his palm. His briefing with his officers and Captain Bogle earlier, indicated that of all places in the solar system, Callisto might be the best place to live outside of Earth. Yes, it appeared to be dead, but it was far from it. It was the most abundantly oxygen-rich object in the solar system, besides Earth. It was out of Jupiter’s radiation belt, but close enough to steal warmth from the gas giant.

The Lectern brought up data, pulling Gentry out of his reverie. “There you are.”

DATES OF FINGERPRINT LOCATION WITHIN LAST FIVE DAYS

MOST RECENT FINGERPRINT LOCATION

NEW SEARCH

Gentry waived his finger over most recent fingerprint location. The satellite, created by the Secret Space Program to find anyone, anywhere, and at any time, was able to pinpoint a subject’s exact location by fresh fingerprint identification. Fingerprints, if not scrubbed, leave a trace for up to forty years. The freshest fingerprints could give someone’s location away in a matter of seconds. In this case, it took Gentry three minutes and forty-two seconds to find Slade. He’d given the man every opportunity to return his calls; he couldn’t be faulted for tracking him down, even if it was considered crass to use SSP hardware to track a colleague. Or, as in Slade’s case, a former colleague.

Slade, however, wasn’t at the GSA headquarters in Plano, Texas, where Gentry tried to connect. He was deep underground in St. George’s, Grenada. No wonder it took so long for the Lectern to find results.

Gentry pressed holographic buttons, bringing up all the phone numbers in the area. Hundreds popped up. He highlighted them, keeping them on the hologram, but erasing everything else. He tapped a few more buttons, pulling up Slade’s vocal recognition, which came up as a microphone icon. He dragged it to the phone numbers. A few seconds later, all phone numbers vanished but one.

“Lectern, call number and use GSA Plano, Texas as our caller ID.”

The phone patched in the number and Gentry heard it ring.

“Colonel Slade Roberson.”

“Well, if it isn’t Colonel Slade ‘Gumpop’ Roberson.” Gentry grinned. He didn’t need to introduce himself. Slade would recognize his voice and, with any luck, be pissed at the reminder of his old SSP nickname. How he would have loved seeing Slade’s expression.

A pause, as if Slade thought about hanging up. “Admiral Gentry Race.”

“What are your plans with Callisto?”

“It’s above your pay grade, Admiral.”

Gentry rolled his eyes. “I get paid more than you, Slade.”

“Not anymore.”

Gentry needed Slade to talk. “We figured out why you’re interested. It seems that the pyramids give off power like you wouldn’t believe. Can you image that, Slade?”

“What are you getting at?”

“The Secret Space Program has authority over even those in the United States government, black ops or public figures. I’m going to ward off J-quadrant and do a thorough investigation on those structures on Callisto.”

“No, you will not.”

Gentry curled his lips. “This is my investigation now. You could say you’re in my jurisdiction.”

“I have authority from the President of the United States to research and investigate Callisto. This is my baby. Do not touch.”

A warning cropped up on the Lectern, accompanied with a face and fingerprints. He stood, not believing his eyes. “The Lectern is letting me know an old SSP enlistee is near your location. Kaden Jaxx? Why is he near you? Anything connected to his past—people, objects, even smells—will bring back his memories, Slade. Are you nuts? We can’t activate Jaxx. That’d be suicide.”

“I know what I’m doing. He is safe with us. We aren’t exposing him to anything that will trigger that set of memories. He is a good addition and will help us. Goodbye.”

Slade hung up and Gentry gazed at the ceiling. “This can’t be happening. We’re screwed if Jaxx goes public with what he knows.” He clicked on a button on the Lectern. “Special Agent Cole? Please enter.”

Nick Cole, Special Agent and assassin, part of the old Space Marine combat corp used for the first Taiyo raids, now gladly Gentry’s personal guard.

The Admiral’s quarters door slid open and Special Agent Cole marched in, full regalia. Black titanium armor, heavy PPR-9—Plasma Pulse Rifle—magnetized to his back, helmet over his head and face like a medieval knight.

“I’m pulling you from my guard,” said Gentry.

Cole stiffened. “Excuse me, sir? I don’t think that’s wise, especially while approaching an unknown.”

“Understood. This is more important.”

“What is it, sir?”

“A mission. You’ll retrieve someone in E-quadrant. I’ll send the information, the target, and the location to your ship. You’ll bring the target back here to Star Warden.”

“Slade?”

“No, not Slade. Not yet.” The Admiral picked up the crystal carafe that sat on the edge of his desk and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a hundred, beautiful splinters, suffusing his quarters with the distinct aroma of a 300-year old malt.

Cole cocked his head to the side. “I apologize if I overstep, Admiral. Who am I extracting?”

“Kaden Jaxx.”

Cole’s facade cracked. “That weasel is back in play?”

Gentry shrugged. “Find him, extract him, and deliver him to me in one piece. And by ‘in one piece’ I mean alive.”

15

May 29th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

D-day, as in Deadline Day. The most important day in any journalist’s life. But this deadline was for the Bitcoin story Drew had decided to put on hold, and it was actually days late.

He was on a better story now, a more important story—the GSA and Slade Roberson piece. World News Network was going to be pissed that he wasn’t delivering what he said he’d deliver, but enraging your producer and editor was part of the gig.

Drew scrolled through his missed calls and voicemails. He hadn’t received a phone call from Ann Maddox from NASA yet. He needed that extra intel on Slade. He tossed the phone onto the piles of papers on his dining room table and went back to his open laptop that displayed Jaxx’s photos of other worldly structures tiled on his screen.

When he’d first downloaded the images, he was convinced they were faked. Trick photography or professionally edited photos. Those kids could work freaking wonders with Photoshop these days, just like Jaxx said. But he’d since run the images through error-level analysis on his computer to do some photo forensics and everything had come up clear. These images weren’t doctored. “This is unbelievable. These are real. Holy mother of all shits.”

In Jaxx’s latest email, he had asked Drew to please send these pictures to as many news outlets as he could.

Drew stared at the pictures of other worldly jet fighters and took a bong hit. He held in his breath, scrolling through the next couple of pictures until he landed on an obelisk. He blew the smoke out and was doubled over for his usual, weed-induced coughing fit.

“The GSA is all over this—” he coughed again. “And not one person in the public knows about this discovery?”

He took another hit. The weed had a sweet, buttery aftertaste and he felt the usual all-over body glow creep up from his solar plexus.

“The government is a racket.” Smoke trailed out of his mouth.

Complaining about the “powers that be” was one of Drew’s all-time favorite pastimes. He was on first-name terms with all the leading conspiracists in the country as well as sources in all the major government departments. This shit ran deep. If what Jaxx was saying was true, it ran even deeper. There wasn’t just intelligent life out there—life the starched suits didn’t want Joe Blow to know squat about—but intelligent life that had been here, there, and for all he knew, back again. Jaxx, that pyramid-loving bastard, had been right all along. The Atlanteans had technology that blew our own technology out of the sky. “Damn groovy, man.”

His phone vibrated. NASA displayed on his caller ID, though not Ann Maddox. He answered, “Hey, Keith. How’s it hanging?”

“Yeah, Drew. Got some bad news here.”

Drew stood and made his way to the refrigerator. “What’s up?”

“I’m going through Ann’s voicemails and returning everyone’s calls for her.”

He grasped the refrigerator door handle and pulled it open. Cool air flowed outward, a brief respite from the hot day. “Uh-oh. What trouble did she get into now?” he teased, knowing full well that Ann was a hard worker who kept her nose clean and, while he valued her as an inside source, she wasn’t someone you thought about partying with. The woman probably wouldn’t know how to get into trouble if it rear-ended her on the 405.

“She committed suicide yesterday.”

Drew shut the door. “Excuse me. What?” Drew had never met her in person, but she was more than just a contact. He’d known her for a few years. In a way they had become friends, the way you do with remote people these days. Keith, on the other hand, was her boss and always gave Ann the green light to give Drew what he needed, which tended to be harmless information.

“We found her this morning. Well, her sister did. She had a note with your name on it, so you’re the second person I’m calling. I’d have called you first, but…” Keith’s voice cracked. He held in tears.

“I’m so sorry, Keith. Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Uh...maybe.” Keith sniffed. “The guy who I contacted first wanted to know all about you. Things like your childhood, how you did in school, what made you tick. It was weird. He didn’t care two shits about Ann or that she had died. All he said about Ann was that she contacted him a day and a half ago about information on your behalf?”

Drew’s eyebrows squished together. “What was his name?”

“Colonel Slade Roberson. Do you know him?”

Drew tapped his knuckles against his teeth, struggling with his reply. He knew the name, of course and Keith had to know he knew, because he’d listened to Anne’s messages. But with Anne’s death, saying that name out loud had just become a whole lot more dangerous. He didn’t want Keith or anyone else to think it was a big deal. “Not really. His name came up in a routine story I’m working on…” The weed hadn’t addled his brain, but neither was he at his sharpest. He paused for too long. “Just a story on space exploration and shit. You know how well that sells, especially now, with all the cuts.”

“Well, all I know is, he’s some guy associated with the Global Safety Administration. I think he is the head.”

Drew walked to the dining room table and took a seat. “How did Ann take her life?”

“Heroin overdose. She had a needle stuck in her arm when she was found. The dose was apparently three hundred times the lethal amount, but it’s an ongoing investigation. They haven’t ruled anything out.”

Drew had reported on drug beats before and he knew the police’s drill. “Then they haven’t actually ruled it a suicide?”

“No.”

“Any signs of a struggle?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything more.”

“I’ll take a look at it when the time is right. The police will be quiet on it for a while until their discovery is complete.”

“I’d appreciate that, Drew. Her family would appreciate it.”

“I’m very sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah, me too. We’ll get through this.” His voice cracked again.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call.”

They said their goodbyes and Drew stared at his phone, assessing the situation. He’d never met Ann, but she’d never slurred her speech or nodded off during their phone calls. She never complained of constant sickness, or a running nose, or nausea. Being phone friends wasn’t the most reliable way to notice someone’s addiction, but she didn’t strike him as a heroin addict.

To say nothing of the fact that three hundred times the amount above the dangerous level seemed excessive, even for someone trying to commit suicide. Could they even function pass the fifty times above dangerous mark? Wasn’t that the very definition of “overkill?”

His phone vibrated again. An unlisted number. He put it down and let it go to voicemail. He was late on bills and after a certain number of calls, bill collectors usually stopped leaving voicemails, so no harm no foul.

The voicemail sound beeped and his head flinched back slightly.

He picked up his phone and listened to his voicemail.

“Mr. Avera. You have never met me and you never will. Please stop your investigation. If you don’t know what I’m speaking about, then know that we have Kaden Jaxx and access to his emails. He is no longer alive. The more people you contact, the less chance they have of surviving.”

The man hung up.

Drew’s hand went limp and his phone fell to his lap. “What the hell?”

He went to his window and stared at the street, the people walking by, and the cars parked next to the sidewalks. Nothing out of the ordinary. No unmarked cars and no government license plates. He shut the curtains and the room became darker.

He stared at his own hands, wondering how he could get himself into such a predicament. Uncle Jaxx is dead? Is the guy on the voicemail lying to me? Is Ann dead because of me?

He went back to the laptop, giving it a distant and empty stare. He covered his face with his hands, trying to figure out his next step. “I can’t do this.”

He started closing the images Jaxx had sent him.

World News Network!

If anyone could keep him safe, it would be the largest news network in the world. If he could get this information out just like Jaxx had asked him, then the big target wouldn’t just be on his back, it would be on Colonel Slade Roberson’s or GSA’s. In fact, this was probably the safest route. If he was killed for some reason or another, the suspicion would be put squarely on GSA and the Colonel. There was no telling if he was safe, or would be safe, even if he erased all the photos. In one way, Jaxx had given Drew the greatest story of this century, perhaps of all time, but on the other hand, he’d just delivered Drew a death sentence. The only way out was to call Hobbs Howell, the Executive Vice President of Corporate Marketing and Communications for World News Network.

He pulled the photos back up, then printed each one off, hearing them fall to the floor after each picture ran through the printer.

Drew picked his phone back up and dialed Hobbs Howell’s number. It was time to make another splash in the world.

16

May 30th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Jaxx stood, his arms spread outward and harnessed to a rope attached to walls on either side of him. His head hung and his chin touched his chest. Sweat dripped from his nose. Breathing heavily, he blinked several times, unaware of where he was.

In a daze, he shifted from leg to leg. His heart beat slowly. He’d been drugged.

Computers beeped and monitors showed images he couldn’t quite make out. Warm, the room smelled like machinery.

“Where...me?” he said, his voice raspy.

“He’s coming ’round,” said a voice over an intercom. “Get him to the showers.”

Shot, not once, but twice. How was he still alive? He blinked several more times and his vision began to clear. He eyed his chest. Shirtless, no blood, no indentation, and no bullet hole.

He moved his shoulder. No pain.

Two men entered, both with white coats, glaringly doctor-like. They unstrapped Jaxx, placed his arms around their shoulders. They then dragged his feet across the ground, taking Jaxx out of the room.

Jaxx wanted to walk, but his feet were heavy, uncoordinated.

“Who...you?”

“Keep your eyes forward,” one of the doctors replied.

“I’m keeping…them. My eyes...they’re mine. Don’t...take.”

“That’s not what I meant, Sir.”

They hauled Jaxx down a hall and into a room full of tiles. Shower heads lined the walls. They turned a shower head on and dropped Jaxx on the floor.

The ice water pelted Jaxx and he curled into a ball. If anything, it waked him, making him more alert, breathing life into him.

“Leave Rivkah out of it,” he screamed. “She’s my friend.”

Guards waded in and dragged him from the showers. He could barely piece the last few hours together, but the routine seemed to be sensory deprivation, chemical stimulation, then interrogation and the showers. The sendep tank wasn’t all that bad. At least he didn’t have to listen to Slade’s slimy voice or Donny’s simpering. He grabbed the guard’s lapels and pulled himself level with the grunt’s face. “Don’t let them get to Rivkah Ravenwood. Promise me. Keep her out of this shitstorm. She deserves better.”

Jaxx passed out in a featureless corridor, miles underground and no one topside the wiser.

17

May 30th ~ Chicago, Illinois

The Tribune Tower housed World News Network’s Chicago Bureau, plus TGN’s Radio, broadcasting on 1190 am, and Lowell’s Books on the ground level. The tower; a beautiful, French Gothic Building. Those who had the final say in WNN’s news network’s coverage worked there.

Drew tipped the cab driver and shut the cab door. He wanted to linger and take in the expansive architecture of Tribune Tower’s main entrance, a site he could admire for hours—gorgeous floral designs wrapped in vines etched on the exterior limestone walls. It was a sight to behold, a marvel of early 20th century architecture. “They don’t make them like that anymore.” He glanced at his watch. Late. Not good, especially since he’d been allotted an 11:30 AM appointment.

“Sharp,” the officious assistant had said. “Not a moment later, not a second sooner. On the dot.” That was how Hobbs Howell worked. What Hobbs wanted, Hobbs received.

Drew hurried into the lobby.

The lobby was heavenly, with a wooden balcony and pendant lights hanging from the ceiling. He stopped for a fleeting second to take it in, then chastised himself internally and hurried to the elevator. He gripped the folder in his hand tightly, knowing that the pictures inside the folder were his trip to safety, perhaps his only shot at not being gunned down late one night.

At the 24th floor a woman sat at the reception desk, a large World News Network sign on the wall behind her.

Drew’s shoes clicked on the Italian Botticino marble floor as he approached, his head held high, acting the important part, though not feeling it. He wore a suit, something he wasn’t used to. He hoped it didn’t smell of weed.

“How can I help you?” She didn’t bother looking up from her typing.

“I’m here to see Hobbs Howell.”

She stopped, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Are you Drew Avera?”

“I am.”

“Nice work on the Zapruder Film documentary.”

“Thank you.”

She went back to typing. “Yeah, it’s something we already knew. Everybody knows. It was a conspiracy. I did like how you tied in E. Howard Hunt. I didn’t know much about Hunt’s past. Do you really think he was the guy in the umbrella when JFK was shot?”

“That’s what my research said.”

“Interesting. Okay, well you’re late for your appointment.”

Drew eyed a large clock on the wall. “Just a few minutes.”

“Nine minutes, actually. That’s nine strikes against you.” She pointed to one of the chairs. “Please have a seat.”

After a few minutes, a loud click signaled a door opening. A voice boomed, “Step into my office, Drew.”

Drew straightened his tie. He shuffled quickly into the office, which looked more like a small library. Books lined the walls. A giant desk sat in the middle of an expensive Persian rug. The floor-to-ceiling windows looked out on the blue, cloudless sky.

Hobbs stood and extended his hand, his voice like a bass guitar. “How are you doing, Drew? It’s been a while.”

“Nice to see you again, sir.” Drew looked around for the nearest chair, which was clear across the room.

What a dick.

His footsteps echoed on the tile as he retrieved one, and picking the chair up, he carried it to the front of Hobbs’s desk.

Hobbs leaned back, folding his hands across his lap, inspecting Drew’s outfit. He grinned. “Why are you all dressed up? That’s not like you.”

Drew sat. “Because I’m meeting my boss.”

Hobbs’s grin fell into a frown. He sat upright, serious. “Don’t call me boss. I hate that word. It makes me sound like my father.” Hobbs placed his elbows on his desk, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s see them.”

Drew looked down and hesitated. “Will this hit the news?”

Hobbs stopped rubbing his hands. “My guess is that it will and—”

“If it doesn’t, I have copies of everything. This will go to all other major news outlets and alternative news sources. I’m coming to you first.”

Hobbs’ mouth dropped. “You’re coming to me first because you work for me. You are my employee, Drew. You’re part of the WNN team. Do you know how many articles and interviews and documentaries you’ve conducted on my dime? This story, if I allow you to work it, is your job.”

Drew leaned forward. “I’ve been threatened.”

“Over these photos?”

“Yes.”

“Who’s your source?”

“I can’t tell you my source.”

“Is it within NASA?”

Drew’s shoulders drooped, as he pictured Ann Maddox, a needle hanging from her arm, her face frozen in her final high. “No. Like I said on the phone. These pictures should be coming from NASA, but instead they are coming from a company named Terra Energy Corp. They’re using one of their satellites to take pictures over a Jupiter moon and then sending those images directly to the Global Security Administration, also known as GSA. The GSA is headed by Colonel Slade Roberson. The GSA funds the shit out of TEC.”

Hobbs did a double-take. “Why the hell would the GSA need images from a satellite over a Jupiter moon? And if they need them for some reason or another, why are they using a private corporation instead of NASA?”

“I’m coming to some strange conclusions, here. I still don’t know exactly what’s going on.”

Hobbs walked over to a bar in the corner of his office, pouring one Scotch, and then another, dropping a few ice cubes in each. He stopped at one of the massive windows and stared across the cityscape, both glasses of scotch in hand. He took a sip from one, then nonchalantly walked to his desk, sitting, and slid the other glass of scotch over to Drew.

“We have to clear this story with the administration, you know that, Drew.”

Drew held the glass, feeling the cold, wet condensation. His heart fell. “The administration? You mean the government?”

“I sent them the images you sent me in our last email communication. These are highly classified. What you hold in your hands can change the face of history. Hell, the face of humanity. Another civilization, either in ancient human past, or of ET origin, created a mess on Callisto.”

“A mess?”

He nodded slowly, his eyebrows high on his forehead. “Yes, quite frankly, a big shit storm.”

“You’re not going to let this out to the public, are you? You’re going to sit on it. You’re just like them, withholding data from the American public; from the whole world.”

“It’s out of my hands.” Hobbs took a good long slug of his drink.

Drew pulled his folder close to his chest, clutching it. “I have more. Like I said. Copies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll still pay you for the images, but I need your hard drive. We’re going to have to wipe it clean. These images can’t go out without express permission from the highest authority. You understand...”

Drew stood and left without a backward glance.

I’m going to be living under ground for the rest of my life, dodging anyone who looks suspicious.

18

May 31st ~ Ponteeka Lake, Oklahoma

The doorbell rang. The doorbell hadn’t rung in a very long time. So long, in fact, that Rivkah jumped.

Rivkah Ravenwood, retired SSP pilot captain, hadn’t left the comfort of her log cabin for nearly three years. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of what was out there. No. She was afraid of what others would see. She had terminated almost all communication with the outside world, and if it hadn’t been for her pension, allowing her to purchase items and groceries through courier services, she’d have shriveled away from starvation.

She wasn’t going outside.

She didn’t look the same anymore.

No one was scheduled for a delivery today. Not knowing who or why someone was at the house unsettled her.

Here in rural Oklahoma, where eastern redbud trees were plentiful and flowed atop the hills around her, neighbors were acres away. They left her alone and for years. So, this couldn’t be a neighbor, unless by chance an emergency. Still, nothing of the sort ever happened in rural Oklahoma, and if it did, she never heard about it. And if she had heard about it, she wouldn’t have done a damn thing.

Her coffee shook in her disfigured hand, like it always did. She steadied it with her other hand and took a long sip. The doorbell rang again. If she ignored it, surely the unwelcome visitor would go away. If there was a fire, she’d hear the engines. If it was a flood, well that would be kind of weird. If a tornado...Heck. If a tornado, she’d climb in the bath and hope for the best. She wasn’t going to answer the door. Not a chance.

Another ring. Her apprehension turned to irritation. Could they not take a hint? One ring, give me a minute. Two, perhaps I am in the shower. Three, um, I am not coming to the door, doofus, But four. Four meant you were a straight-up idiot.

She placed her steaming mug on the coffee table and stood, determined to send the intruder away. Her gnarled hand pulled her robe tighter and she walked toward the door.

She shuffled her feet across the wood floor in her sky-blue slippers. She had a lot of slippers; that was all she seemed to wear these days. Practical and comfy, unless there was a flood-borne fire with a tornado at its back. Then slippers would be impractical.

Peeking through the peephole she could see a man in a black trench coat and a black cowboy hat. He held a manila envelope. Weirdo. Trench coats and cowboy hats don’t go together. Everyone knew that. To top it off, he hid his face under the hat’s shadow.

“Ma’am, can we talk?”

Rivkah didn’t reply. If she had, he might say something else. Something persuasive. He wasn’t a neighbor, that was damn certain, so he had to be there for a reason. The trench coat said Secret Service. The cowboy hat said he thought he was a bit of a player. Either way, the man was trained in the art of persuasion. If he said something persuasive, she might be convinced to show herself. Of all things, her face was the worst.

“You’re being called back to service.”

Was there a war? If there was, she was too old and had no ability to serve.

The man cleared his throat. “We’ve found you are the best for the job. We need you.”

A tear slid down Rivkah’s cheek. How she would have loved to have the life she once had. In service of the country, flying Air Wing starfighters, she could go speeds faster than humans thought possible and many times did. In her line of service, she specialized in space-to-space combat and secret operations with her squadron in the Secret Space Program.

Flying a starfighter was impossible now. There was no point in thinking such things.

“I know what happened to you,” said the man. “We can reverse the damages. We have the technology.”

Her eyes narrowed. Was it possible? Could she be set free from her self-imposed prison of shame?

He held up the manila envelope. “This is going to change the entire world, Captain.”

“Who are you?” Rivkah’s voice cracked.

“I can’t say, Ma’am. What I can say is that this manila envelope contains answers to your questions. It also contains a phone number you can call when you’re ready to accept this offer.” He leaned closer to the peep hole, his voice a whisper. “We have a situation on a Jupiter moon.”

She knew what he meant. She had seen things in her old life that few people had seen. They probably needed her to lead a squadron to take out whatever stood in SSP’s way. “How can you fix my body?”

“We have made more advances in medicine than we let on in the media, than we let on in the military in all ranks and services, Earth-bound or otherwise. In the news, stem cells are in their infancy, but the truth is we perfected them twenty years ago. We have stem cell sprays and lotions that can reshape your skin. You can look twenty-five again. It’s all about the electrical property of cells. There is more to it at the molecular level, and I know the science may not interest you, but if you come with me, you can see and experience the healing science for yourself.”

“Place the manila envelope on the ground and leave.”

The man nodded, placing it on her welcome mat. “We can change your life in a moment, if you choose. Make that moment today, Captain. We need you.” He doffed his hat in an old-fashioned gesture of respect.

She heard him get in his SUV and drive off down her long gravel driveway. She watched until she couldn’t see his car anymore. Only then did she open the door and pick up the envelope, taking a deep whiff of the fresh, hillside air that smelled of lavender and lake. The outside wasn’t bad.

Back on her couch she tore at the envelope. Photographs spilled out, twelve in all, 8.5 x 11 glossies. A sticky note with a phone number attached to one of the pictures, along with a letter.

She read the letter, then dropped it on her lap and scoured the pictures. Her stomach did flips. It was as if she’d just won the lottery. There were pictures of Jupiter and its moons, including Callisto, the moon outside of Jupiter’s radiation belt. The data was technical, but not gobbledygook. The writer was clear, there was a black ops secret space program in another sector of the government and they wanted her to be part of the team.

The last picture gave her a hearty laugh. It was a close-up of a pyramid. In space. She grinned. “There are Egyptian pyramids on a Jupiter moon. How did we miss that?”

She lifted her phone and dialed the number on the sticky note.

It rang only once before a man picked it up, the same man who had been at her front door.

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“What is the next step?”

“I’ll head back and get you today. We’ll start your regeneration tomorrow.”

“Who are you?”

“Slade.”

Rivkah huffed. “I should have known.”

19

June 1st ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

Drew sat on a white bench, his mother next to him. He eyed his mother’s pink sweatshirt with blue letters that read Tanner Springs Assisted Living Center. It was gaudy, but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

“How are you liking it here, Mom?”

His mom’s curly, gray hair bobbed up and down and her chin shook but her eyes devoid of expression. “I like it a lot.” She extended her hand, shaking Drew’s. “I’m Laura.” Her eyes went vacant again and she asked tentatively, “Who are you?”

“I’m your son, Mom. Drew Avera.” He’d already told her half a dozen times today.

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two.”

“How old am I?”

Drew hated this question, and even though she asked it every time he visited, he told her the truth. “You’re forty-eight.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m what?”

“You’re still young, Mom. Don’t worry.”

She squeezed his hand tightly, then patted his hand with her other. “Oh, wouldn’t that be quite the news story.” Her curious eyes gazed into Drew’s. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a news reporter of sorts, or a journalist. I’m kinda both. In my position, they can be the same thing.”

Drew’s phone rang; the Caller ID read Hobbs Howell. He answered. “You didn’t air it. It’s been almost a week.”

“We’re not going to air it.”

“Hobbs, you know I’m going to send this to every major and minor news outlet. Why aren’t you airing it?”

“To keep peace and order.”

“I’m disappointed.”

“You did an excellent job with your source and getting him to send you those satellite images. We’re cutting you a big check as I speak.”

Drew closed his eyes. “That’s not why I’m a journalist. In fact, I’m already a pretty damn respected one, so I’d appreciate it if you’d treat me that way. If I cared about money, I’d have worked for a tech company that would give me twice the pay. I’m a bona fide genius and you know it, which is one of the reasons why you hired me. Companies are banging down my door just about every day trying to get me to work for them and for a lot more dough.” They weren’t, but it sounded impactful. “I’m not doing this for the money, Hobbs.”

“Drew, we respect you, but you can’t get your way on this one. Plus, I’d get blasted by the GSA, the NSA, and the god damn President, pardon my French, if I were to let this story out into the open.”

“Why would GSA have any leverage?”

“Don’t send the pictures out to anyone. This story is done.”

“The hell I won’t!”

“I can’t defend you, your credentials, or this station if you talk about ridiculous structures on another object in our Solar System. I will discredit you in every way possible. You know we can do it. And you know Joe Public will believe us and not you. We’ve got the clout, you’re a brainy, weed-smoking flake, with a couple of DUI’s and an underage pornography habit.”

Drew stood. “I do not. I’ve not even had a parking ticket and I’m no pedophile. You’re an asshole, Hobbs.”

Hobbs went silent.

“You wouldn’t really do that to me, would you?”

Hobbs sighed. “It’s out of my hands, my friend. This is a matter of national security. We do not dick around with those guys. We’d be in a Federal prison faster than you could say Jack Robinson. Let it go. For all our sakes.”

How Drew wished he recorded their conversation. “You are supposed to defend the station no matter what news is aired. It’s our job to tell the truth.”

“Noted.”

If he couldn’t convince Hobbs, he’d have to convince someone else. Otherwise, the death threat would become his reality.

“I’m sending my emails and pictures to alternative media outlets and major news outlets.”

“Your pictures won’t go far. They won’t air. The story’s too complicated and far-fetched.”

“We’ll see.”

“Fine. It’s your funeral.”

Drew hung up and tried to rub the stress off his face. He turned, smiling at his mom.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m your son, Mom. Drew Avera.”

She observed him for a moment. “You’re pale.”

“Yes, I’m very stressed, Mom. I just got a bad phone ca—”

“My son used to play guns with his friends in the forest behind our house. He was such a spirited young man. I remember one time when he broke our window and blamed it on the girl down the street. I wasn’t there, so I didn’t see him break the window, but when he blamed the poor, poor girl, you know what I said?”

“Yes, I know.”

“I told my son that the girl had moved away more than a week ago.”

“And I still went with the story. Didn’t I?”

“She didn’t do it. My son did.”

“Why do you always talk about your son’s childhood?”

“It’s something all parents share.”

Drew rubbed her shoulder. “What do you all share?”

She patted his hand. “No matter how old my boy gets, he’s always my baby. That’s how we moms see our kids. Your mom probably sees you the same way as I see my boy.”

“Do you remember anything else about your boy?”

“He carried a camera around everywhere he went, and took pictures.”

“Yes, he did.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-two.”

“I bet my son is around your age. Do you know him?”

“I do.”

“I bet he’s out there with his camera.”

“He is.”

She smiled. “Tell him to visit once in a while. Tell him to bring his camera. Tell him his ma wants to know what he’s been up to. It’s been so long. I bet he’s still spinning tall tales and impossible yarns.”

“I will.”

A bell rang and she glanced behind her. “The door is opening.”

“You don’t have to go inside whenever the door opens.”

She fussed. “Oh, yes I do. How will I get inside when the door closes?”

“You can simply open and close the door yourself. You see, someone’s just leaving.”

She wiggled her finger at the door. “No! It’s closing. Get the door!”

Drew exhaled sharply. “Okay, Mom.”

“It’s closed.”

He walked a few feet to the door and opened it. He gestured for her to walk through the entrance. “You see? You have access to Tanner Springs Assisted Living Center at any time. If you can’t get inside for some reason, then you can press the handy little doorbell and someone will come and let you in.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman? You have to teach my husband sometime. Where is Sir, anyway?” She shuffled through the doorway.

Sir, his father, had been out of the picture since Drew had been two years old. He was either dead or living a second life with a new family. Sir was an odd name and for years, Drew hunted for a “Sir Avera,” but could never find him. “I’ll tell him, Mom.”

“Can you show me to my room?”

“Of course.”

“That’s a boy.”

Drew showed his mother to her room. Today he’d be emailing the news world. World News Network wasn’t going to get their way, neither was GSA.

He placed his hand in his pocket as he walked out of the assisted living center and pulled out his confirmation plane ticket, eyeing it for the fifth time since he’d printed it out earlier in the day.

Departing Charlotte Douglas International Airport. Arriving Dallas Fort Worth International Airport. Date, June 4th.

In a couple days he’d be checking out Terra Energy Corporation, which as luck would have it, was connected to the Global Safety Administration’s building.

He’d be killing two birds with one stone. If he wasn’t killed first.

20

June 2nd ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Rivkah closed her eyes and held her breath. A man in a white doctor’s coat, wearing a mask and holding a spray canister, frothed her face. Her damaged skin, scarred from burns, tickled at first, then the burn set in. She thought her epidermis would surely be stripped from her muscles, leaving her worse off than she’d been before. She fell to the floor, screaming.

The doctor grabbed her arms. He wasn’t going to let her rub the treatment away.

“It burns,” she yelled.

“It’s reversing the damage. In a few seconds, the sensation will change.” If that was his effort to console her, he was doing a piss-poor job. The burning sensation deepened. It moved from “fire” to “acid.”

She wanted to scratch her face off. The doctor held her by the wrists, his grip firm and unrelenting. She kicked at him, aiming for the place that would hurt most, rather than do the most damage. She wasn’t trained in Muay Tai martial arts for nothing. She could ninja his ass to the damned ground.

He didn’t let go.

“It now itches...like hell. What did you do to me?”

“This will be over soon.”

She kicked again and then, in a move that defied gravity, kneed the man in the groin. “Let me go.” He about lost his breath and doubled over but managed to continue to hold on to her.

A rush of adrenaline rose. Her heart thundered up from her chest and into her throat. She didn’t know if the burning or the itching caused more pain, but she didn’t care. They were killing her. That was the plan all along. The pyramids were bogus. Just a ploy to get her to leave the house. The treatment was a joke and she was being eliminated. Did she accidentally leak confidential military information when she was in the service? If so, when?

Blood trickled down her chin and she shrieked in agony.

She failed this life, maybe she’d be more competent in the next.

“Get it off me,” she cried.

He cringed, still trying to rebound from the shot to the groin. “It’s too late, ma’am.”

Yes, this was torture for making a mistake. For entrusting her junior pilots on missions meant for her. No, that couldn’t be it. She was training them. It was the time she misspoke, the time she let her mother know what she was chasing UFO’s. No, that couldn’t be it. How would they have known that? If they would just tell her what she did, she could correct it.

“What did I do?” she asked, her face contorting.

She knew what she did. She volunteered to come to this project to heal her body from the scars that kept her hidden from the world for so long. To bury herself away from the mess she made of herself. Today, another misstep, she’d willfully walked into her own death.

“Just tell me what I did,” she muttered, her eyelids opening and closing. “I can fix it.”

A stench rose in the room. A smell she was familiar with, burning skin. Then it started, the sizzling, as if her face was on a hot greased pan, her tissue melting away, bringing a face to the surface of her mind. A face she’d pushed far back into her consciousness long ago, the man who caused the ultimate failure in her life, the man who left her to die in the flames of her starfighter.

Kaden Jaxx

She howled and leaned forward, vomiting.

“Kill me. Just end it,” she said under breath, spitting remnants of vomit on the floor. Then, her skin tightened and a chill engulfed her.

She relaxed and went limp, not able to move, although her mind on overdrive. One minute she wanted to die, the next the pain had disappeared.

“What’s happening to me?”

“Stage two,” the doctor bellowed.

A door opened and in marched medical technicians with wet towels. They patted her face down. A technician picked up a bowl and the doctor tilted Rivkah’s head back. Someone poured the bowl’s oily contents over Rivkah’s face and spread it around her nose, under her eyes, and over her lips.

“It’s thick aloe, enhanced with crystal flecks and colloidal silver,” the doctor said.

They picked Rivkah up, her listless body making her heavier than normal.

“Where...are you...taking...me?” Rivkah asked, oil dripping in her mouth and down her throat. She could barely keep her eyes open. Her body wanted to shut down. Did she need sleep or was she dying? She didn’t know.

“The energetics room. Energy medicine; lights, sounds, and lasers,” the doctor replied, helping carry her out of the room and down a hallway.

Rivkah closed her eyes. “Please...no more...hurts too much.”

“The hurt is over for today,” the doctor responded. “It’s time to relax and regenerate. You’ll be flying a ship in no time.”

They rested her on a table in a dimly lit room. She heard a door close. “Help. Where…”

Everything faded to black.

21

June 4th ~ Plano, Texas

It had been twenty-four long hours since Drew had sent satellite images of the structures on Callisto to every major and minor news media outlet, along with his email communication between Jaxx and him, plus a recording of being threatened on his voicemail.

He’d emailed radio shows, talk show hosts, and even mailed off physical copies of the photos to the old-fashioned news reporters and anchors that couldn’t stand using the computer.

No one had responded yet. Odd. In his line of work, and being a reporter himself, he’d thought the curious minds he sent his information to would at least get him one or two replies. Or, you know, all of them.

They probably responded and the responses were either intercepted and erased, or his email blocked, and no one received his emails. That meant someone was on to him, which meant he had to work hard and fast.

Why did TEC have to have their offices in Texas? It was worse than the Carolinas. It was so humid, even his clothes perspired. He closed the door to his rental car, reached into his pocket and took out the joint he had crafted to look like a cigarette. He lit it up and took a few puffs, taking in a nice buzz. He couldn’t, however, get too buzzed. Just needed a little to take the edge off. He wasn’t used to tracking down leads as a fugitive. He checked his phone. Still no calls. Not from his media contacts or them.

“Should have just leaked the pics to my underground buddies. That would have gotten me more traction. Used the Dark Web, gone undercover, been a true whistle-blower, rather than trying to play by the rules. That’s always been my problem. Note to self, stop playing by the rules.”

He took one more drag, just for luck, then spat on the ground, gently dabbing the end of the joint on the spit, successfully putting it out. He touched the joint’s end, making sure it wasn’t still hot, then placed it in his pocket. A little now, a little later, a little buzz, and the Drew cats were all happy bunnies. He opened the car door and grabbed his cologne, spraying over him. He popped a piece of mint gum in his mouth and walked up to a large, three-story tan building with the words TEC Center emblazoned near the top of the building. Cars filled the parking lot and the stench of hot asphalt filled his nostrils. Why would anyone live in the city, man? It reeked.

Next to the main entrance was a sign, listing businesses and their locations within the building. GSA had one office, while Terra Energy Corp had the entire third floor, plus a warehouse behind the building.

He made his way to GSA’s office, passing IRS auditing and a small firm of lawyers. An attractive woman walked down the hall, looking at Drew as if he was unkempt and creepy.

He turned, watching her walk away, nearly bumping into a wall.

Stop gawking, you idiot. He rolled his eyes, thinking how being so young and horny all the time had its disadvantages. I just need a damn girlfriend.

He smelled his armpit. Oh my God, I smell like three-day-old garlic and onions.

He stood outside the GSA office. Colonel Slade Roberson, GSA Head was embossed on a placard on the door. Just below, a woman’s name he didn’t recognize. The door, locked. The lights turned off. They had either left for the afternoon or were on a break.

Peeking through the large window that framed the office wall, he saw that the place was nice and tidy. A main desk, perhaps for the receptionist, sat on one side of the wall and a separate office with a door was on the other side.

There was a problem, though. Not one piece of paper was on the main desk. No pens, sticky notes, or anything that would tell Drew someone had been recently working there. The dust on the computer screen, plus the cobwebs in the corner verified his suspicion.

He tried the door again, jiggling the knob a few times and pushing into the door. It didn’t budge. He turned around and exited the building. The warehouse was large for a reason. He wanted to see why.

Walking around the building, the warehouse matched the size of the TEC Center, telling Drew it was just as significant, or more so, than the building he was just in. He knew he was right when a guard post near the entrance came into view. It was occupied by two guards. Uniformed guards. Frowning guards. Guard guards. All they needed was a German Shepherd and the tableau would be complete. They were guarding some serious shit.

At the post, Drew held out a press badge, wondering if that would get him anywhere. “Drew Avera, WNN reporter. Can I speak with someone inside the warehouse please?” Maybe that would garner him admittance.

The guard shook his head. “What is this in regards to?”

Drew sighed, needing to give a good show. “Why is everyone giving me the run around today? I arrived here on Colonel Slade Roberson’s orders. I was supposed to interview him in his office and then he was going to give me a tour of the warehouse. Yet he’s not here. I’ve tried to contact the colonel several times, but no answer. Where is he?”

The guard grabbed his clipboard. “You say your name is Drew Avera?”

Drew nodded.

The guard gave a concerned face, not wanting to disappoint Drew. “Well, your name isn’t here, but let me see what I can do.”

“I’m supposed to get a story out soon and it’s about the Colonel, GSA, and TEC. You know, the government contract between GSA and TEC?”

The guard tapped the other guard’s arm. “Hank, give me the two-way radio.”

Hank did and he held the radio to his mouth. “Dispatch, this is Javon. Can you get me Charles? A reporter is here.”

Drew waited, tapping his foot.

Charles came over the radio. “This is Charles. What’s this about, Javon?”

“A reporter,” he pulled the radio from his mouth, asking, “What’s your name again?”

“Drew Avera.”

Javon went back to the radio. “A reporter, Drew Avera from WNN News or something, says he’s on schedule for an interview and a tour of our warehouse.”

“Drew Avera? You mean, that young kid who made the documentary on Smedley Butler and how he stopped the coup against FDR from happening?” There was an underlying excitement in Charles’s voice.

Javon gave Drew a questioning glance.

Drew crossed his arms, grinning. “That’s me.”

“That’s him.”

“Alright. Colonel Slade Roberson isn’t here today, so the best we can do is tour him outside the warehouse,” Charles replied. “I’d love to, but I’m a little indisposed at the moment.”

“Got it.” Javon handed Hank the radio. “Hold the fort, Hank.” He gestured toward Drew. “Follow me.”

An outside tour? He’d have to convince this Javon fellow to give him an inside tour, but how?

Javon took a step out of the guard post, taking in a sniff. He leaned in close, whispering in Drew’s ear. “You got the crippy?”

Drew’s expression went blank. “Huh?”

Javon swiped his hand in the air. “Come this way.”

They went around the corner of the warehouse. “I smell drat all over you.”

“Drat?”

“The chronic, weed, four-twenty, whatever the hell you out of towners call it.”

Not good. This guy must be able to smell weed a mile away.

Drew shook his head, “I don’t smoke that stuff. I mean, I used to in the past, but—”

Javon gave a curt laugh, stepping a few feet to the side and next to a large rock. “Step right next to me.” He pointed on the other side of the rock.

Drew did, and Javon continued, “We’re in the security camera’s blind spot.” His eyebrows rose. “Now, I’m not a genius by any means, but when someone comes up to me smelling as if they just poured a gallon of cheap cologne mixed with marijuana all over them, I know they smoke weed and have smoked recently.”

Drew covered his pocket with his hand. “Shall I get going?”

“No, my man. I just want a hit.”

A hit? Are you kidding me? That’s it? Drew looked around, not believing his ears. “If I give you a hit, can you get me inside the warehouse?”

Javon thought for a moment. “I don’t know. Security cameras are—” He stopped himself, remembering something. “I’ll turn the entrance camera off for a minute. We’ll enter and I’ll have Hank turn it back on. They’ll think it’s just a glitch or something.”

“What about the camera’s inside the warehouse?”

“Hank can turn those off as we enter from section to section. You’ll only have a minute or two to peruse in each area, but that’s all I can give you.”

“How are you going to convince Hank to do all of that?”

“Give me a few hits and I’ll give Hank the rest. If you want in that badly, I can give you like a ten-minute looky-loo if you do this for us. A win-win. You feel me?”

Drew would have to extend that ten minutes, but right now, that little time was better than nothing. He nodded, giving Javon the joint and a lighter.

Javon took three long puffs, then looked at Drew with relaxed eyes. “I’ll be back. Stay here.”

Drew hoped he wasn’t being set up. For a second, he wanted to make his way back to his car and drive off, calling it a day. Any blemish on his record would be something Hobbs could use to discredit him. Mix your fiction with a smattering of facts and you could make a plausible case for someone being a—what had Hobbs called him?—a porno-loving junkie? If he was going to present this Callisto story and his findings to the world, he needed his record to be squeaky clean. He stared off at the sky, the fumes of the hot day waving like transparent silk, telling him that being in the heat of a risk was part of a journalist’s life. Or, he was nuts and the temperature was getting to him.

Javon walked around the corner, motioning Drew over. “We’ve got one minute to get into the warehouse.”

He led Drew to the main entrance and pressed in a security code. A click and a buzz and the door opened. Drew’s eyes adjusted from the bright sunlight to the low light. He was in a preparation room that was closed off from the rest of the warehouse. People readied themselves with safety clothes and equipment before they entered the main portion of the warehouse.

Javon handed him a construction helmet from a rack attached to the wall. “Put this on.”

Drew placed the helmet on, watching Javon do the same. Over in the corner of the room were several large cardboard dumpster bins with pallets loaded in rows next to them. Lockers were lined up on the opposite wall and warehouse suits hung from metal rods.

Javon opened a large garage door, closing it behind Drew.

Forklifts, pallet jacks, and scores of men and women in warehouse suits busied themselves by unloading pallets full of heavy boxes and setting them on large metal shelves.

“Come this way,” said Javon, walking down a concrete path bordered by stanchions that held ropes.

“What’s in those boxes?” Drew yelled over the beeping forklifts and loud jacks.

Javon looked over his shoulder as he kept a good pace, zig zagging through the walkway maze. “Materials for our propulsion engines and other space-age shit.”

Drew wanted to punch the air in triumph. He was in the right place. He kept his arms at his sides and trotted behind his guide like a good little boy.

There was a large column in the middle of the warehouse. The elevator shaft. Two men stood on either side of it. Alert, eyes front, no smiles. Military. “After we tour the warehouse are we going in that elevator?”

“No.”

“Where does it go?”

“To another section below. I’ve never been down there.”

“Why not?”

“You see those two guys?”

Drew nodded as Javon continued, “They have side arms.” Javon observed Drew’s confused face. “You know, guns. Only top military officials and those with high security clearances get past them. The section below us is run by the GSA, not by TEC. I have no access.”

Drew lowered his head, disappointed. “That’s where the colonel said we’d be going. I guess he was going to get me security clearance for my story. I probably can’t get access to that right now, can I?”

Javon pointed toward the floor. “Down there?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well, another thing is that I’m supposed to watch and observe. He was going to allow me to walk around on my own. I’ll stay on the path.” It was all bullshit, but maybe it’d work. He held his breath.

Javon looked at his watch. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”

Drew dropped his shoulders, huffed, made sure Javon knew he was annoyed. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m just going to leave and come back when the colonel is here. I can’t do a story unless I do it right.”

“Here, let me get on the line and see if I can pinpoint where the colonel is. If he was supposed to meet you, then he’s got to be around here somewhere.” Javon went to a phone hanging on the wall and dialed three numbers. “Charles, Javon here. I—”

Drew curled his fingers around the door knob. “Javon, don’t worry about it. I’ll take off and come by next week.”

“Hold on. I have—”

Drew shut the door before Javon could finish his sentence and hurried through the stanchion maze, coming up to the garage door and pulling it upward, letting it rise the rest of the way on its own. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Javon walking over to catch up. Drew acted as if he didn’t see him and walked into the preparation room, shutting the garage door, hearing it clatter as it hit the ground. A few more steps and he’d be outside and back at the guard post where he began this tour.

But that wasn’t where he was going.

He took off his helmet, placed it on the rack, and raced over to the largest cardboard dumpster bin, opened it up and jumped inside. He covered himself with as much cardboard as he could, hearing Javon fidgeting with the garage door, then opening it.

“He left already?” said Javon. “What a prick.”

22

June 4th ~ Star Warden – Second Class Star Carrier – Secret Space Program ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System (Callisto Orbit)

Star Warden’s launch bay was a few football fields long and just as wide. As it should be. Star Warden was a second-class Star Carrier, the largest ship in the Secret Space Program. Only three were in existence, Star Haven and Star Bracken, the other two.

The launch bay was full of transport ships, starfighters, and a few frigates in for repair. Crewmembers inspected craft and worked on damaged ships, doing the daily grind like a colony of ants.

Special Agent Cole walked up his dropship’s ramp, glad he wasn’t an ant. No, he was the baddest of the bad. He was a bona fide wasp. No, a scorpion. He could take down any reptilian commando, enemy humanoid, or insectoid trooper in combat without much of a sweat, but sweating was what he loved to do.

The clang of his elastic hybrid titanium boots echoed against the dropship’s interior. He adjusted his helmet noise dial a level lower.

His ship wide and long enough to carry a bus load of people, but people weren’t what his ship was designed for. His ship was for quick extractions. Punch in and punch out.

Reaching the front of the cockpit, he pressed a few buttons on the control panel, pulling up the information that Admiral Gentry Race said he’d provide.

SOLAR SYS LOCATION: E-QUADRANT, EARTH.

LOCATION: ST. GEORGE’S, GRENADA.

EXACT LOCATION: FORT GEORGE, ENTRANCE TO AN UNDERGROUND FACILITY.

TARGET: STARFIGHTER PILOT, DEFECTOR LIEUTENANT KADEN JAXX.

GOAL: EXTRACT KADEN JAXX AND BRING HIM TO STAR WARDEN.

FORCE: EXCEPT WITH KADEN JAXX, DEADLY IF NECESSARY.

Cole placed his gloved hand on a flat display on the control panel. It lit up and Cole tightened as a bolt of electricity went through him. A picture of Jaxx, along with his DNA signature, uploaded to his helmet’s Heads up Display. Once Cole landed on Grenada, his helmet would guide him directly to Jaxx, like a pig snuffling out a truffle.

He cracked his knuckles, then his neck as the ramp closed. He brought his craft to a hover, readying to exit through the launch tube.

He grinned. It had been a long time since he’d been on the most beautiful place in the galaxy—Earth. He hoped he could screw it up a little, along with some humans in the process.

Or, maybe he could visit his mom.

He shook his head. His lips downturned. “I’d rather feed her to the dogs.”

23

June 4th ~ Plano, Texas

If it hadn’t been for the air conditioning inside the warehouse, Drew would have roasted to death under all the cardboard. As the afternoon turned into evening, the warehouse employees shifted from stacking piles of cardboard boxes in the cardboard bins, to going home for the night. Finally, he heard Javon tap in the alarm code and exit the premises.

There Drew lay, still covered in cardboard, waiting to see if Javon was the last to leave. If a night crew scoured the premises, then they’d most likely find Drew. Eventually.

He pushed the load of cardboard off him and flipped open the dumpster lid. He crawled out and grabbed a hold of the garage door handle and lifted, nearly pulling his shoulder out of socket. The door was locked.

He paced to the alarm. The combination must have automatically locked all doors in the complex. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Please, please tell me that’s not true.” He tapped his temple. “Think, think.”

He caught a glimpse of the chain attached to the garage. It was linked through a metal loop in the concrete and wrapped around the loop. How could he break that?

He smiled. “No need.”

Either the guards were lazy or they didn’t care because neither the lock nor any other type of security apparatus held the chain and loop together. He bent down and unwrapped the chain and pulled it through the loop, then opened the garage door. How could they be that stupid? Did they really leave space-age shit behind one locked door? Not lock the inner door? Well, no. There was still the elevator and who knew if the guards ever went on break. They probably had round-the-clock coverage of the inner sanctum.

Other than the flickering of a few hanging fluorescent lights, the warehouse was silent. He stepped over the stanchion ropes and walked past pallet jacks lined next to each other, all plugged in and charging.

Drew walked the aisles of metal shelves until he found himself in the middle of the warehouse, the column and elevator in clear view. “No freaky-deaky way. No guards.” He pulled out his phone as he walked toward the elevator and snapped a few pictures before pressing the elevator’s down arrow.

The elevator opened.

Inside the elevator two buttons, one labeled TEC and the other labeled GSA, were on the control panel next to the door. He pressed GSA. The doors closed.

After a few minutes, he checked his phone. It had been more than a few minutes, more like five minutes. The elevator didn’t have an emergency function or an open-door function. So, he pressed GSA again, hoping that would take him down faster.

More minutes swept by and he wondered if maybe the elevator hadn’t descended at all and he imagined the motion. Maybe the two military men somehow shut off the elevator before they left for the evening.

He pressed the GSA button again.

Nothing.

“Am I trapped?”

He pressed it again.

The doors remained closed.

Perhaps he could escape out of the top of the elevator like in the movies.

He looked at the ceiling and his mouth went dry.

A small camera hung in the corner of the elevator.

And were probably littered throughout the warehouse.

Now it was his turn to wear the dunce’s cap. How could he be so stupid and absentminded? There would be cameras everywhere, probably triggered by movement. His heart palpitated. He just made a grade-A rookie mistake, but he was already in this, chest deep. There was no reason to get out now. The only thing he could hope for was that the cameras weren’t activated by motion. If they were, then somewhere a guard would be alarmed and sent to the warehouse. Hopefully rats skirting around the warehouse had cleared that problem up, causing too many false alarms. He decided to press ahead. If they were coming for him, well they were coming for him. But if they weren’t—if the cameras were simply recording—he would need to be as cautious and careful as possible. If he could ever get out of the elevator.

The elevator dinged and the door opened. His heart skipped a beat. He rushed out and halted. He wasn’t in the warehouse. He twisted around, looking at the elevator, wondering if the elevator simply descended too slow or it ran on space-age casters that were friction-free. If he’d been descending for that long—he checked his watch; it had been at least an eight-minute ride—he was a lot deeper under the warehouse than he had imagined. The elevator was no longer set inside a large column. Instead, it was inside a wall that extended the width of this giant facility, a door without a handle next to it.

He looked around. The lights here were different. Somehow they glowed, giving off more of a moonlight hue than anything else.

Rows of food, luggage, medical equipment, and outdoor supplies, such as shovels, pick axes, and hoes, lined the floor. Behind, were hundreds of dune-buggy-like cars along with a plethora of small aircraft similar to Jetson’s flying cars but with curved wings. The rows of aircraft went on forever.

He took out his phone and took a picture. He was about to investigate the Jetson-like craft, when he spotted the luggage.

Why the luggage? And, why so much luggage? Were thousands of people being evacuated? To where? And when?

He took another picture.

Att the edge of the room, on a side wall, were dozens of garage doors, all double the width of a normal garage, extending hundreds of feet up to meet with the domed ceiling. This place wasn’t just big, it was ginormous. He’d never seen a place so large. This dwarfed a football stadium and he imagined he was only seeing half of it.

He snapped picture after picture.

He walked away from the elevator, and the door next to it opened vertically. Drew jumped back, a sudden coldness hitting his core. His body tingled as he imagined a group of guys emerging with their guns drawn, aiming their weapons at his head. He wanted to move, but his feet pinned to the ground, waiting for the inevitable.

When the inevitable didn’t happen, he relaxed and peeked through the opening His eyes widened and his mouth gaped. “What the...” He needed a hit of weed about now.

Drew stepped through the doorway, seeing another side of the facility as large as the side he was just in. That, however, wasn’t what he was most focused on.

A plane, larger than any he’d ever seen, sat in front of him. He shook his head. This wasn’t a plane. It was too jet-like, twice the size of a 747 and double the height. Bulky and beautiful, like something from the future, aerodynamic, and with a large booster near the tail.

He grabbed his phone, again snapping as many pictures as he could.

He walked around the plane. On the side, in black letters, it read: SPACE SHAQ and JUPITER OR BUST.

Drew raced through everything he’d learned about Slade, GSA, and Callisto. Someone sure as shit planned to leave the planet. But who? And when? And where would they go? Slade. Slade had said, in Rock Magazine, that he was a firm believer in the imminent threat of global warming. Drew’s fingers went numb. He wasn’t an alarmist, but if Slade was getting ready to leave the planet, taking thousands of his pals with him, then Drew sure as shit wasn’t going to ignore that fact.

He walked under the ship, looking for a way inside. Thoughts of sneaking in and stowing away crossed his mind. He touched one of the wheels, looking at the ship’s underbelly, amazed at its size, width, and grandeur.

The ship, however, wasn’t large enough to take the miles of supplies on the other side of the facility, along with the number of people who needed those supplies, and the assembled buggies and small aircraft.

He took another picture.

Walking out from under the craft, he noticed offices in the distance. They needed to be photographed.

The first office was empty, items gathered up and placed in taped boxes. He went to grab for one of the boxes to rip it open, to look for anything that might give him a clue at what this place really was and what was really happening, and thought better of it. He needed to be meticulous and a ripped apart box would be a dead giveaway that someone had been here.

He went to the next office. It was the same as the last, except more boxes filled the room.

The third office was empty except for three filing cabinets in the back. He turned on the overhead light, opened the first cabinet, and rifled through contents.

Hundreds of files stared back at him. Perhaps thousands. Why hadn’t they been digitized? How old was this damned program? A name caught his eye. Couldn’t be. He grabbed the file and pulled it from the cabinet.

There it was, plain as day: Kaden Jaxx. Drew slumped against the wall. What were the odds? Here he was, in the bowels of a secret building, which housed some secret program to take people off-world and he’d found a file dedicated to his uncle. He opened it. Almost the entire file had been redacted. It was nothing but blackout and gibberish. Still, it meant his uncle figured—and figured big—in this enterprise, though he was still confused about the program’s goal.

Drew took a picture of the file number and put the folder back into the filing cabinet.

He walked straight ahead and pushed another door open, feeling yet another cool draft. He stepped through the doorway and onto clay-like soil. Lights glowed from above, lighting up a massive tunnel that a cruise liner could easily float through. He stared into the cavernous space, incredulous. “Holy shit.”

Four single rails, similar to the rails used for monorail systems, were parallel to each other and set far apart. The tunnel was wide, but why was the ceiling so high?

He walked down the tunnel, touching the monorail. Chilly, meaning it hadn’t been used in a while. He placed his ear on it, wondering if he could hear a distant sound of a potential train.

Silence.

A moment later, chaos.

The rail vibrated. And a sound like rushing water echoed through the tunnel, soft at first, then louder and louder. He eyed the tunnel, backing up as fast as he could. A single light, faint, grew bigger, and headed his way. Whatever it was, it was coming at an incredible speed.

24

June 5th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

“Nice to see you alive, Mr. Jaxx.” Donny lowered his eyes, peering above his glasses. He leaned back in his chair, reading the clipboard in his hand. If Donny didn’t ware brown khakis and a tan sweater, Jaxx would peg him as Santa Claus.

“I heard about Captain Richard Fox.” Donny put the clipboard down. “Between you and me, the guy needs to be scrubbed between the ears. You know, with a razor wire. He’s caused me fits and problems in the past.” He waived his hand in the air. “Nothing like he did to you, but my God he’s a nuisance.”

I was shot. That’s a little more than a nuisance. Jaxx couldn’t believe how this place operated, as if shot several times and brought back to life occurred daily.

“Yeah.” Jaxx lay on the couch, determined to say as little as possible, just in case Fox or Slade watched. He didn’t want to screw anything else up.

“I have a question before we begin,” Donny’s frown deepened. “Are there any times in your life that you just don’t remember? Like five years of your life that seem a blur or simply erased from your mind?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

“You’re the only person that I’ve met who has no memory of being in the SSP except through hypnotherapy.” Donny tapped his clipboard with his pen. “Maybe some memory loss in your mid-thirties?”

Jaxx looked off to the right. “I...uh...can’t recall not remembering anything. Then again, you wouldn’t, would you?”

“How old were you when you graduated from college?”

“Twenty-four. I went for longer than most.”

“So, you graduated high school, then graduated college, then started as an archaeologist right away?”

“I didn’t just start as an archaeologist—”

Donny palmed his clipboard. “Skip that question. Did you ever have any interest in the military?”

“Actually, I did. I wasn’t getting any archeology field work and was mostly an apprentice for another archaeologist, which wasn’t exciting, and the pay was terrible. I was behind on bills so I checked out the Navy, where I could get an actual paycheck.” Jaxx scratched his temple. “I was around twenty-eight years old.”

“Did you join?”

“No. After a few months, I realized enlisting would be the wrong course of action. Navy just wasn’t my passion.”

“Did they run tests on you?”

“Just a physical. Like I said, I didn’t enlist.”

“Okay, what did you do when you were thirty years old?”

Jaxx smiled. “My sister threw me a surprise party.”

“Excellent. Sounds fun. What did you do for your thirty-first party?”

Jaxx wiped his brow. “Hmm...there was this time…” He scrunched up his nose and stared at the wall. “A recruiter met with me when I was thirty-two.”

“Then what?”

“He just came by, asked if I wanted to join. If I had a change of heart. I asked him if I was too old and he shook his head. That was that and he went on his merry way.”

“He came to your house?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s odd.” Donny jotted something down on his clipboard. “What did you do for your thirty-third birthday party?”

Jaxx put his hands behind his neck. That time of his life was hazy. The memories weren’t there. “I...well...” He scanned his brain for anything, for something. Nothing came to the surface. “It’s blank.” He wiped his forehead. “What the hell? And, for my thirty-fourth?” He rubbed his eyes, disturbed. “No clue. I don’t remember a thing. The last party I remember was when I was thirty-seven, when I had my first book launch.” Jaxx sat up. “That was the first time I put myself out there to the world. The world came back, calling me names. It’s odd how you can think you’re so smart and when you attempt to show the world your research, they can torch you without hesitation. That’s when I realized I wasn’t as intelligent as I thought. So, I write books more or less to satiate my book-writing and research-loving appetite.” Jaxx gently slapped his cheeks, an attempt to get himself back on track. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is where the hell my memories went.”

Donny shook his finger. “And, why the Secret Space Program or whoever, wiped your memories. My guess is that when you were around thirty-two or thirty-three the Secret Space Program took you. Don’t beat yourself up for not remembering. They have tech neither you nor I have even heard of. And I’ve never heard of them erasing someone’s memories. I wonder why?” He sighed, long and heavy.

Jaxx stared at Donny. Was he signaling that he was an ally? Was he going to help him work this infuriating puzzle out? Was he going to stick his neck out and be a real man?

Donny doodled in the margins of his paper. “I wish we could go back to that time and pin-point the exact age you were taken and the exact reason your memories were deleted.”

“We can,” said Jaxx, as excited as he had been on that first day, when Slade had told him he’d be earning silly money interpreting hieroglyphs from space.

Donny let out one of his trademark sighs. “Slade has me looking for something else with these sessions.”

Jaxx threw himself back down on his mattress. He shouldn’t have been disappointed with Donny. He shouldn’t have expected anything in the first place. He was a yes-man, through and through. He wasn’t going to help him. “What does he have you looking for?”

Donny grimaced. “Well, apparently Rivkah Ravenwood has similar...let’s say...abilities as you. We think she developed them shortly before she left the Secret Space Program. And we think you may have something to do with her abilities.”

Jaxx sprang to his feet. “Rivkah? Rivkah’s here?”

Donny realized his error.

“How is that possible? Who brought her here? What are they doing with her?” He charged Donny’s chair and got up in his grill. “Tell me you’re not doing this shit to her, you measly little worm.”

Donny didn’t flinch. “Sit down, Kaden.”

“Let me see her.”

“That’s not on today’s menu, Mr. Jaxx. Today, we’re going to investigate how and when you transferred your abilities to Miss Ravenwood.”

“That’s bullshit. I couldn’t move objects with my mind before I got here. I couldn’t have given these ‘powers’, as you call them, to anyone.”

“Though there is the matter of the missing years. The years you don’t remember? The years I believe you worked for the SSP, more likely than not, with Ms. Ravenwood.”

“That would be Pilot First Class Captain Ravenwood, to you.”

“As you wish,” said Donny. He was a smooth asshole when he wanted to be. “Pilot First Class Captain Ravenwood.”

Jaxx narrowed his eyes. “Can’t you just put me under and take me back there. We need answers. Now.”

“Certainly,” said Donny. “You’re going deeper...and deeper...”

Jaxx was out before Donny said another word.

* * *

Jaxx sat in his starfighter, parked inside one of Star Warden’s large Star Carrier bays. Dammit. He’d landed back in his memories, but only minutes after he’d steered a rock into a crack in a ship and brought it down. Where was Rivkah? Had she made it back? Where was the rest of his squad?

A knock on his cockpit window jolted him out of his racing thoughts and into the carrier bay. A man stood on a ladder and waved, then knocked again. Jaxx pressed a button and his cockpit window lifted. The man climbed down the ladder, jumping to the bay floor.

Cheering engulfed the bay, people clapping and hollering.

A crackle came over his helmet comm line. It was Rivkah. “I’d like to think I helped out there too. But, this is your day. Enjoy it.”

“How did I do that out there?” Jaxx asked, still sitting in his cockpit, dazed at what he had become in combat.

“That’s what I think everyone will want to know. Get out of your starfighter and celebrate, because tomorrow the enemy will be back. We’ll need you.”

Jaxx stood. It was the applause he’d been waiting for his entire life. If he knew how he had flown with such precision, how he’d merged with his craft, how he moved things with his mind, then he’d be able to walk down the ladder with confidence and embrace the whoops and hollers from his comrades. As it was, he felt like the world’s greatest fraud. What he’d done was a fluke, an anomaly. His legs and arms shook with each step down. He did his best not to faint or lose his grip and fall backward.

He held down his comm tab. “Thank you, Rivkah. I pushed the control stick forward when exiting the launch tube. Your advice saved my life.”

“It did. Now, get to your celebration. Rivkah, out.”

Jaxx touched ground and unstrapped his helmet, placing it under his arm. People slapped him on his back as he walked by, making his way out of the bay and into the Star Carrier’s large lobby. If he could go to his quarters and sleep, he would. Sleep, though, would probably evade him tonight. He imagined the stress and the excitement would be too much for his brain to handle.

Full of people, the lobby buzzed. Crew hastily moved from one place to another, down hallways and into offices. Medical techs ran by Jaxx and down adjacent hallways, heading to the carrier’s stern. But every three or four steps, someone took the time to congratulate him. He was, if they were to be believed, a star, a legend, a damned wizard out there.

“Attention on deck!”

Jaxx turned. The admiral. Jaxx didn’t recognize his face, but his epaulets said it all. A guard walked with the admiral, decked out in armor from head to toe, a large rifle strapped to his back. The guard looked about a foot taller than Jaxx, and Jaxx was above average height.

They halted in front of him. The admiral put his hands behind his back, beaming with the kind of confidence only an admiral could have. “I’m Admiral Gentry Race. Follow me.”

Jaxx straightened his posture. “Yes, Sir.”

Jaxx followed Gentry up a flight of stairs and into a large room with a long meeting table in the middle. A woman in full flight gear sat at the table, hands folded in front of her, her helmet resting on the seat next to her. She was breathtaking and for a second, Jaxx couldn’t take his eyes off her. He knew who she was. She’d broken through his memory barrier, on the other side of time, and made herself known to him. He’d remembered nothing of his time as a pilot, until he was under hypnosis, but she had visited in his room’s mirror, asked for his help. She was someone. She was special. She was Rivkah Ravenwood.

When Rivkah saw the admiral, she stood and saluted.

He gave her a nod and gestured for the large guard to wait outside, then dipped his head at the uniformed man.

“Take a seat,” the admiral ordered.

Jaxx sat, wondering why he’d been led here. He’d never met the admiral, the guy in the uniform. Was he in trouble for some reason? If he was, he wished they’d ship him back home.

Gentry motioned to the woman. “You already know Captain Rivkah Ravenwood.” He sat straighter in his seat, chest out. “Behind me is Captain Richard Fox.”

Fox said nothing.

Jaxx eyed the woman, stunned—Rivkah. Black hair, blue eyes, and light brown skin. “Again, thank you.”

Expressionless, she replied, “No need to thank me. We’re squad mates. It’s what we do.” She brought her attention to Gentry. “Why were we brought here?”

Gentry interlocked his fingers. “I was a starfighter for many years and have been in combat for almost as long. I’ve never seen a pilot fly like Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx here.” He turned to Jaxx. “You did things in your starfighter that defy logic. Your precision in flight, extraordinary, your accuracy, for the record books.” He cleared his throat. “I watched you on the vid screen once Captain Fox alerted me that one of our starfighters executed extraordinary feats. It seemed that debris around you moved in unpredictable—dare I say it—physics-defying ways. Even out in space.”

The admiral took a deep breath. “How did you maneuver the way you did, Jaxx? How were you so accurate with every plasma bolt, with everything you targeted?” He pointed to a screen on the wall. “Every starfighter has a camera placed on it. It reviews every weapon’s fire and every direct hit, amongst several other things. The only weapon’s fire in which you missed were when we think you purposely did so.”

Jaxx remained silent, not knowing what to say. He was just as baffled as Gentry.

“Who trained you?” asked Fox.

“I was trained just outside Gliese Space Station in Libra quadrant.”

Fox frowned. “Yes, that’s where you learned to pilot. What I’m asking is who trained you to do what you did out there?”

“Just the instructors at Gliese Space Station. Do you want actual names?”

Fox and Gentry gave each other a look. Gentry rubbed his hands together and eyed Jaxx, a grin plastered on his face. “No. Not necessary. Have you ever heard of planet Taiyo?”

“Planet Taiyo? I’ve never heard of it.”

“The Taiyonians,” Gentry added, “are an evil group. They have taken resources and stolen a planet from the Kelhoon. They renamed the Kelhoon’s world, Taiyo. So in response we have aligned with the Kelhoon to help them take back their world.”

Jaxx put his hands on the desk. “What does this have to do with me?”

Gentry, steely-faced, replied, “You’ll be under Captain Rivkah Ravenwood’s command from this point forward. You’ll be going into Taiyo’s quadrant. Only the best of the best pilots are allowed on this mission to liberate the Kelhoon world. We’ll be drafting you a formal letter in a half an hour. You’ll be leaving immediately.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Captain Richard Fox will act as leader of this mission.”

Jaxx didn’t get a choice in the matter, so he responded like any good Lieutenant would. “Yes, Sir.”

Gentry stood and walked out of the room, Fox in tow.

“If you don’t have any questions, Lieutenant Jaxx, then you’re dismissed,” Rivkah said. Clearly blind-sided by this, she bit her lip. She did her best to hold in her anger.

“Why are we going to go to Taiyo’s quadrant?”

She crossed her arms. “Didn’t you hear what the admiral just said?”

“But, why would we help this Kelhoon group?”

Rivkah’s shoulder’s drooped and she shook her head. “I don’t know. Taiyo probably has precious minerals and ore that we can extract from their planet. The Kelhoon are a pretty ruthless group. The only reason we’d align with them is if we’re profiting from them...somehow.”

Jaxx was surprised at her honest response. She wasn’t the normal type of captain he’d been used to—dull and by the book. “But, the Taiyonians stole that planet?”

“I doubt it.”

Jaxx rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I back out of this?”

“No. You signed up for this and so did I. We follow orders. We do the job we are paid for, Lieutenant.”

“And we’re going to fight alongside this Kelhoon race?”

“Yes.”

Jaxx wanted to reach out and touch her, if only on the arm; get her to mellow a little, see who she really was. “Who are they? What do they look like?”

“A once threat to our race. They’re a mix of human and Drakonian. By the way, you were fighting the Drakonians out there. The Drakonians are a lizard bi-ped species. Our race and the Drakonian race don’t get along. Anymore questions?”

Jaxx looked down. “Probably. But, not right now.”

“Dismissed.”

25

June 5th ~ Plano, Texas

The light grew in size and a horn blared, almost toppling Drew over. He didn’t know if the horn went off because the person driving the colossal monorail had seen him, or if it was protocol.

The monorail was an abomination of all monorails, and in fact, was more of a dualrail that took up two rails, instead of one.

The tunnel was long, but the monorail’s speed reached Drew’s position in seconds. Drew’s hair pushed back as the wind of the rushing titanic zipped by, pulling monocar after monocar, all the size of small cruise-liners.

He took a picture and ran, jumping through the doorway that led him to the monorail tunnel. The monorail came to a whining halt. He hoped it wasn’t because of him.

Drew ran past the offices and underneath the spaceship. He eyed the doorway that separated one portion of the warehouse from the other, and bolted faster.

“There he is!” yelled a man.

Drew looked over his shoulder. Men in military garb, rifles in hand, ran in his direction. Trouble. Big time trouble. “Shit.” Making it through the doorway, he pressed the elevator button. “Stupid idea, Drew.” Waiting for an elevator would get him caught, or worse yet, shot.

He twisted around, hearing the elevator ding open, disregarding it, thinking he was too late to enter. Instead, he looked for places to hide, and hurried past the luggage and food until he found the dune buggies. They were good and bulky. Ideal. He ducked behind one. He curled his hands around the roll bar, and peeked his head just above the seat.

More than a dozen men filed through the doorway. One pointed and gave orders. The elevator dinged and they all turned, watching the elevator’s doors close.

“He’s in the elevator!”

Drew crawled backward, bumping into a tire, then rolled around to another buggy. He peeked again. The men spread out, searching for him. Obviously, they had ascertained that Drew wasn’t in the elevator.

Shit, what do I do? He crawled toward the back of the warehouse, moving by small aircrafts.

“Shoot to kill!” roared a man.

Drew’s head shot back stiffly, not believing what he just heard. They’re going to kill me? For trespassing? He always wanted to uncover a horrible conspiracy, and his wishes had come true. He wasn’t ready to die.

Drew crawled faster, knowing he was about to run out of room. Soon, he’d be stuck and out of options.

A loud bang sounded across the room. At first, he thought a rifle had gone off until he saw the garage-like doors opening and dozens of military pouring from the monorail into the warehouse, guns pointed outward.

The good news, they hadn’t seen him. The bad news, they’d see him sooner than later. He conjured up two options. One, hands up, surrendering, hoping they weren’t going to shoot to kill. Or, two, do what he was about to do.

He studied the closest aircraft, not seeing a handle, but where a handle should have been attached a large round button. He pressed it.

The aircraft’s door opened upward like a gullwing or a fancy sport car. He pulled himself inside and onto a seat, pressing another button. The door shut. A lock function was on the control panel next to the control wheel and he pushed on it as fast as he could, hearing the craft lock.

Behind his seat was a bucket seat, wide enough for three or four people, but that was as deep as the cockpit went. No place to hide.

Even though he’d never flown anything before, he had to try. If he could get his in the air and fly out through the tunnel, wherever that led, then he could survive. He studied the control panel, seeing a hover button, a flight button, and a land button. That was simple enough. They’d built the planes so any idiot could fly them, but Drew wasn’t an idiot. Drew was an A-1, no-shit, fully-functioning genius. He could fly this machine. He could escape.

An initiate engine knob was on the control panel. The control wheel might be self explanatory, but a stun expel trigger sounded ominous.

He looked up. The monocar's doors were open, the cars completely empty. Ramps extended from the doors and into the warehouse. Immediately, Drew knew what the monorail was—a way to transport the contents of this warehouse to another place. The puzzle pieces clicked into place. Colonel Slade wanted off the planet. He had space craft and supplies at the ready. He held Jaxx in Grenada, in a place Jaxx had called “Underfoot Black.” What were the chances the monorail was transporting everything in the warehouse to Underfoot Black? That way, Slade would have the space craft, the dune buggies, and all the supplies, delivered directly to him.

“Not if I have anything to do with it,” he muttered.

Drew pushed on the initiate engine knob and the craft turned on, purring like a kitten. Things looked a little brighter. A tap sounded on the cockpit window and Drew instinctively ducked.

A man with a rifle peered into the cockpit. “Sir, I recommend you exit this craft immediately.”

Drew cowered in the corner of his seat, covering his head with his forearms. He shook his head.

“I’m not asking. I’m telling.”

“Dude, I heard one of you say ‘shoot to kill.’”

The man’s eyes went wide. He glanced over at another man, then nodded. He lifted his rifle and took aim.

Drew kicked the middle of the control wheel, triggering stun expel. A loud electric sound rattled and the man drew back in a writhing twitch as if electrocuted. When the sound halted, the man went limp, flopping to the floor.

“Oh, shit. Oh, no.” Drew looked around. All the men searching for him were on the floor, lifeless. Had he killed them?

He quickly opened the door and ran toward the elevator. Before he could get halfway, a bullet whizzed by him, ricocheting off a buggy. He slid to the floor, huddling behind another buggy, then shimmied toward the monorail.

More guns went off, bullets pinged off the wall, the floor, the damned ceiling. They knew where he was, until they didn’t. The closer he came to the monorail, the more the bullets whizzed well behind him. He stood and ran, his adrenalin taking him faster and faster. Bullets rained down all around him, sparking where they hit.

Reaching a ramp that led inside one of the monocars, he glanced toward the head of the monorail. More men carrying firearms were on their way. Others were also coming at his six o’clock.

The gunshots suddenly stopped, perhaps to protect the monorail, but the men continued the pursuit.

Finally inside a monocar, Drew looked left and right. Military personnel now came from both directions. In minutes, they’d surround him. He looked up, and spied a ladder that led to an upper compartment.

He pulled himself up the ladder, skipping as many rungs as possible. Reaching the top, he peered down. Men climbed after him, but the ladder was attached by a mount. Drew yelled, “Sorry.” He kicked the mount, successfully detaching the ladder. It pushed out, carrying a few men with it, then crashed to the floor. He ran toward a long complex on the monocar’s upper balcony and flung open a door. Inside, it went on for blocks, one side lined by doors, the other side a long wall.

He heard the men fixing the ladder back into position, so he slammed the door shut, looking for a lock that wasn’t there.

“Dammit,” he said, under his breath. “Where do I go?”

He didn’t have a minute to look around trying to find a hiding place. He dashed into the nearest room, seeing a large vent near the window. He lifted up the grate, and jimmied inside, putting the grate back in place.

It reminded him of the longstanding steam tunnel spelunker clubs at places like Harvard, Stanford, Oxford, and his own alma mater, Columbia, in which students would use air ducts to explore and pull off pranks, sometimes spying on the opposite sex.

He scraped his forearm on a sharp metallic edge, then gashed his knee as he pushed his way down into the darkness. Dust lined the duct, coating his clothes and skin, and blood dripped from his wounds. He pushed himself lower, doing his best to be as quiet as possible, then froze in place when someone came into the room.

A closet opened and someone pulled things out, then doors and cupboards opening and shutting.

“Check under the bed,” someone blurted.

“Nope, not there either.”

“Are we checking all rooms, bathrooms, and storage units?”

“Yep. We’ve got just about everything covered.”

“Try the vent.”

Drew squeezed his eyes shut, hoping he was deep enough in the darkness to conceal himself.

They took the vent cover off and slid it to the side.

“Do you see anything?”

“Not a thing.”

“Anyone got a flashlight? We can shine it down the vent, see if the asshole is there.”

“No, sir.”

“Get one!”

Someone march out of the room. He didn’t know how deep he could get or when the air duct leveled out and went horizontal. If he could find that spot, he’d be safe from any flashlight.

Drew slowly pushed himself down, cringing in pain as another metal shard scraped against his side. If he wanted to live, scratches and a little blood didn’t matter.

“Flashlight, sir.”

“Excellent.”

The air duct rounded, cornering, and started to level out as Drew continued to crawl backward. A light gleamed down, bending against the air duct corner, shining into Drew’s eyes. This section of the duct kept him hidden, he hoped.

The flashlight turned off.

“Wait a minute, turn that flashlight back on. I thought I saw a hand.”

The light radiated through the duct and Drew squeezed his eyes shut again.

It turned off.

“Nope. Next room.”

26

June 5th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Slade’s office was above ground in an old, dank building next to a local bar, the Nutmeg. From the outside, Slade’s office wasn’t appealing and for good reason. It was designed to draw no attention to itself. On the inside, however, it was as good as any office in the United States; nice decor, air conditioned, and marbled floors to keep the place cool in the Grenada sun.

His office faced Warf Road, placing him across St. George’s Inner Harbor, just northeast of Fort George, the entrance to Underfoot Black.

Slade took a brief respite from his papers and watched boat taxis bobbing up and down, waiting for passengers. A couple of drivers stood by on the dock shooting the breeze, the rising sunshine sparkling on the aquamarine colored ocean like diamonds.

His phone rang. GSA Warehouse displayed on the caller ID. He frowned. Being contacted by them at this hour was peculiar, especially at 2:11 AM their time.

“Colonel Roberson here.”

“We’ve had a breach. A man we have identified as Drew Avera, World News Network reporter, has infiltrated our Plano, Texas underground facility. He evaded us and is in hiding somewhere on the monorail.”

Slade leaned his forehead on the palm of his hand, shaking his head. “Are you sure it’s Drew Avera?”

“Yes, Sir.”

He stood. “You've got to be kidding me. How in God’s name did he get down there?” Slade bit his bottom lip, nearly biting all the way through. He had underestimated Drew.

“We don’t know. We are searching for him. Our orders are shoot to kill.”

Slade grimaced. “Stop the search. Call it off.”

“Excuse me, Sir?”

Slade looked at his computer screen, a picture of Drew Avera sat at the bottom of an article Drew had written. There were many reasons why he wanted to call it off, but he had to give the most important of all.

“Because we cannot stall anymore. We need to stay on task. We don’t have the time, or resources to waste looking for a low-life-piece-of-shit trying to expose our mission. Guard all exits when you stop at the next destination.”

“But, Sir. I—”

Slade slammed his fist on his desk. “Do not question my orders.”

“Yes, Sir. Protocol orders for trespassers are shoot to kill. Is that order still on, Sir?”

Slade unwrapped a piece of gum and shoved it in his mouth. “You’re asking if I want to change those orders?” This should be an easy no. Anyone who had compromised the mission, stolen information, and had classified information that they wanted to expose should receive a death sentence. With Drew Avera, however, it wasn’t so easy. In fact, it was the hardest decision of Slade’s life.

27

June 5th ~ Plano, Texas

Drew was scrunched in the air duct. Any itch that he couldn’t get to was like a soft tickle he couldn’t slap away. The more he thought about it, the more everything itched.

Movement inside the air duct needed to be as slow and methodical as possible. If his elbow or knee panged into the duct, it could easily give him away. So he remained as still as possible, keeping his breaths short and shallow.

For several hours, sounds of fork lifts, jacks, and other vehicles filled the warehouse and echoed throughout monorail. The monorail shuddered every so often from what he could only imagine were machines setting down heavy items in the monocars.

What time is it?

He wanted to reach for his phone, but the cramped duct wouldn’t allow.

An hour ago, the search for him, the commotion, and yelling had all but halted.

A loud voice came over the intercom and shot through the duct. “All aboard.”

The monorail whistled, its horns blared, and a loud hiss pierced the air. The monorail vibrated, followed by a heavy shudder.

The monorail moved and picked up speed.

28

June 5th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Wires, electrodes, and needles attached to Rivkah from head to foot. She sat on a doctor’s table, computer monitors displaying graphs and charts she didn’t understand. When she had a thought, something changed on the monitors. When she moved, something else changed on the monitors.

What did I do that was so bad?

A part of Rivkah was angry at herself, for volunteering to be here. She was here on her own accord, however, being a test subject wasn’t part of the agreement, at least that’s not what she thought. She assumed she’d be back on tour with the Secret Space Program.

Another piece of her wanted to kick every doctor’s ass she had met in this strange facility—Underfoot Black. The facility was technologically advanced, that much she understood. It, however, wasn’t as advanced as the Secret Space Program. Colonel Slade Roberson was a very well-known figure during her last space operation with SSP before she turned into the hideous-looking monster she was now. He was known across the Galaxy, not just within the Secret Space Program, but with other programs—extraterrestrial programs. Why was he with a new group? When did he leave SSP?

She looked at her hands for the fiftieth time, convinced her mind played tricks on her. No longer scarred from burn trauma, they were smooth, young looking, matching her mid-thirties age. The drugs they had her on had interesting effects, especially with vision. For an instant, she’d black out. When she came to, her fingernails were back. This happened over and over. Everything would go dark. She’d awake, the scars on her face gone.

The drugs messed with her mind.

She closed her eyes, wanting to fall back asleep. “Why am I here?” she muttered. “Why are you doing this to me?”

They never did tell her why they needed her, just that they needed her. Was she to fly a ship they couldn’t understand? She had the aptitude for figuring out unknown crafts. Or, was it what she had been telling herself shortly after she arrived here—she was being punished, experimented on. Ultimately, she’d die.

Yes, that was the truth. She had failed. At what? She didn’t know.

The man she had come to know as Donny watched her from another room, split by a single window. He clicked on the intercom and leaned into a microphone. “Can you look at the box across from you again? Tell me what you see inside.”

Like last time, she looked at the box that sat across from her and against the wall. “I just see a metal box.”

“Look more closely.”

She did and her concentration became more focused. For a brief second, a static sound encapsulated her ears and a shiver ran up her body accompanied with goose bumps. She caught movement inside the box and saw a rabbit illuminate, then fade.

“This time it’s a rabbit. Last time, a tennis ball,” she said, her eyes fluttering open and shut. “Can I go back to bed now?”

A strong whiff of ammonia entered the room. Rivkah sat more upright. She fanned her nose to get the smell to go away. “Please stop doing that.”

Donny clicked through the intercom. “It’s for your own good, Miss Ravenwood. It’s to wake you. We don’t want you nodding off. Now, lift the box.”

Rivkah slid off the table and stood, walking to the box.

“Stop,” interrupted Donny. “Sit back down on the table and lift the box.”

“How do I...” she waved a dismissive hand. Weary, almost out of it, her speech slurred. The drugs were beyond an irritation. “You keep giving me hallucinogens.”

Donny cleared his throat. “Listen to me, Rivkah. You’re experiencing a detox from the therapy we used to get your body fully optimized. We haven’t given you any drugs.”

Liars.

She flared her nostrils and eyed the metal box, intensely focusing, then pictured it lifting off the ground. Again, the static in her ears. The fuzzies up and down her body. The goose bumps. And her abdomen contracted. She blew outward at the box and it complied and hovered for several seconds, then made a tin-like sound as it landed back on the ground. She pointed to it. “You see? You have me thinking I’m lifting it with my mind. What drugs do you have me on? Can I just go home? I won’t be of any nuisance to you anymore...whatever it is I did.”

A doctor walked into the room, then held smelling salts under her nose. She jerked back, wiping her nose, then pushed the doctor away. “Stop that.”

He handed her a glass of water. “Drink this down.”

The water was cool and refreshing. She drank the rest of it and handed the glass back to the doctor. Everything was clearer, her body more alive.

“Do it again, Rivkah.”

The voice was different. She turned. Someone else sat on the other side of the window, one with chiseled muscles and graying hair at the temples. “Hello, Colonel.”

“Looks like you’re feeling better, Rivkah. Can you focus one more time?”

She wanted to flip him off. “I guess.”

Slade pointed to the box. “Focus on the box and lift it.”

Rivkah’s gaze fell to her feet. “Slade, why am I here?”

“To help us, Rivkah. We need a pilot, one as good as yourself. But now we’re finding that you’re a main piece in a strange puzzle. So we need to study you. Not my first priority, but nonetheless, it has to be done.”

“What puzzle?”

“Hold on.”

Slade leaned over and talked with Donny. Donny nodded and spoke back. Slade shook his head, and flung more words Donny’s way. Donny agreed. At what? Rivkah had no clue. Evil pricks.

“Let me start with this. We looked at your DNA. You share something that we’ve only seen in one other person. We don’t know how it got there or why, yet we know the abilities it grants you.”

Rivkah blew hair out of her face. “Spill it.”

“Something in your DNA triggers your pineal gland. In fact, it opens your pineal gland, allowing you to do...incredible things.”

“You’re full of shit.”

Donny took over the microphone. “Slade tells us that while you served in the SSP, you didn’t have any of these special abilities. Correct?”

Rivkah nodded. “Get to the point.”

“Your pineal gland is more open, more evolved, than it was when you were in the SSP—”

“What does this have to do with trying to lift a box with my mind?”

“Let me continue, Miss.”

“Captain,” she said. “My name is Captain Ravenwood.”

“Indeed. Captain. We’re learning as we go, but we’ve determined that a pineal gland as open as yours can affect the laws of gravity in different ways.” He motioned toward the metal box. “Lift it.”

Rivkah rolled her eyes. “Alright.” She focused on the metal box and something in her heart stirred, her mind sharper. She pictured the metal box lift a few feet in the air and as she pictured it, the box rose two feet off the ground.

She gasped, hand over her heart, her fingers splayed. This can’t be happening. “How did...” She stood, pulling the electrodes off her skin, dropping them on the floor, her eyes vacant, her mind lost. “No more of these drugs.” She pinched the needles in her arm and slid them out of her skin, casting them aside. “Get me out of here. Now.”

The doctors came running, ready to restrain her. She faced them and lunged at the first doctor, pinning her hands on the back of his neck. She pulled him down against her rising knee, connecting on his nose. A crunch of broken bones echoed in the room and blood splattered. The doctor crumpled to the floor.

The next man grabbed her arm and she spun, twisting into a round-house kick. She landed her foot on the back of his head, instantly dropping him. She jumped over him, rushing through the doorway and into the hall. The drugs they had her on no doubt wore off.

Her heart pounded. There had to be a way out of here. Rounding a corner, military guards lined the opposite end, waiting. Behind her, Slade, Donny, and a few more guards raced on her tail. In a matter of minutes, she’d be taken, handcuffed, and killed. She’d fight to the death, hopefully taking some to the other side with her.

In a defensive stance, a bathroom across the way caught her attention. It would be easier to fight in a more cramped space, where people would have to come in one or two at a time, instead of twenty all at once. The small space would give her an advantage.

She ran into the bathroom, but stopped mid-stride. A mirror. And she stared back. She touched just under her eyes. And then her chin. Her cheeks. “What?” Normal-looking, her skin toned and beautiful. In fact, she glowed. She blinked several times, waiting for the mirror to give a true reflection. The mirror didn’t comply.

She placed her hands on the sink, looking more deeply into her eyes, then looked at the bridge of her nose and down to her lips. They were supple. She hadn’t had lips since the accident. She touched them and her eyes welled.

No. This was too good to be true. The mirror was another trick, just like the rising metal box. These people screwed with her, showed her how much of a failure she was, like her dad promised she’d be when she grew up—a failure of monumental proportions. She was all grown up and his words had become her reality. And the Secret Space Program was right for letting her go, making her retire after her accident to live a life in solitude, her bad influence away from her leadership in the SSP.

Yet, she couldn’t take her eyes away. She gripped the sink more tightly, her muscles shaking as she squeezed. The sink cracked, then exploded. Shards flew everywhere, but she didn’t take her eyes from the mirror.

Slade entered first, then Donny. She faced them, arms wide. She bared her teeth, wild. She took in a deep breath and screamed. The mirror shattered.

Rivkah stepped back. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw him, but she was spent and her reflexes slow. The taser came up and the wires connected to her shoulder.

She spasmed, her eyes rolled back and she fell to the floor.

“Clean up on aisle three,” said Slade. “Tomorrow’s another day.”

29

June 5th ~ Unknown

Drew woke with a start. He looked left and right, trying to figure out where he was. It was dark. Someone snored. Everything was quiet, other than a low hum and a soft vibration, and that snoring.

The monorail. The air duct. It was early, late—who knew? He had no windows, no sky line, no way to tell the time. Regardless, people slept.

Drew was stowed away on this monstrosity of a train, probably created by some government black ops program his conspiracy colleagues would have a hay day with.

About now, he needed that blunt. But lighting it would be a dead giveaway. The military, and presumably their contractors, only availed themselves of any Babalacha broccoli when they were off the clock and away from prying eyes. They’d be able to sniff him out in a millisecond. Then he remembered the depressing truth, he’d given his last blunt to the guy who got him into the warehouse. Even if he’d wanted to get baked, he couldn’t.

The monorail blared its horn. The drag of the brakes slowed it down. The snoring stopped.

Someone came over the intercom, “Destination up ahead. Monostation 19. We’re behind the clock. Let’s load the supplies quickly and get back home.”

Drew heard talking in the room, though he couldn’t make out what anyone said. Cabinets opened and shut—perhaps to grab their coats or fatigues?—then a door slammed in a hurry.

The forklifts and jacks came to life, the monorail shook. More equipment loaded. If Drew could escape, this might be the best time to do so.

He shimmied up the air duct. Slow going. The A-list body-doubles in the movies always made it look easy, but it turned out you needed a mite more upper-body strength than Drew had realized, to crawl up, rather than along, a duct. Pops and pangs from his elbows and knees placed dents in the duct. It freaked him out, but he had to get out of here, and now. If not for the racket outside, they’d hear him.

The duct leveled out. He picked up some speed and made it to the outlet. He pushed the grate up and to the side, pulling himself through the boxy opening. The good news, and what he expected, the room was empty. The bad news, he didn’t know where to go from here. He placed the grate back over the vent’s opening and walked to the door.

He slowly turned the doorknob and cautiously opened the door enough to peek through. A man walked down the hall, a rifle in his hands. Then another man walked out of a room and hustled down the hall. They wore camouflage fatigues, something that could come in handy. He needed to find some.

Drew calmly closed the door and looked around. He opened a cabinet; a razor, toothbrush, toothpaste, and shaving cream. He closed it, going to the next cabinet.

“Goddammit. Nothing.”

Behind him was a closet. Skinny, but maybe someone had some military garb in there.

“Dammit.” Civilian clothes. If he put them on, he'd stick out like a sore thumb. He might as well wear what he was wearing.

He reached inside the closet, grabbing a camouflage hat, and placed it on top of his head, pulling it down snugly. He did his best to hide his face. He would need to find more military garb, if he was going to blend in.

He opened the door slowly again. The guy with the rifle paced down the hall, his back to Drew. Probably on guard duty. If that was the case, Drew wouldn’t be able to get rid of him. He eyed the corridor. Dashing across the hall and diving into another room wasn’t an option. He might be able to sneak into one of the rooms on his side of the corridor, if he was stealthy enough.

He walked as quietly as he could, reaching the next door. Entering the room, clothes were strewn everywhere. He closed the door and dug through them. He didn’t find anything he could use.

He glanced at the room’s vent. His biceps hurt from that single eight-minute crawl. Who knew how far he was from an outside wall. Then it hit him. He might be miles underground. There were no outside walls. “Ain’t no question. I have to find camo.”

He counted to three and eased the door open a tinge. The guard neared the end of the corridor. Drew snuck into the next room and opened the closet. A camouflage jacket—civilian, but passable—but no pants. He looked down at his own pants. Tan slacks. It might just work.

He put on the coat, checked his hat, made sure the guard still had his back to him, then hurried in the opposite direction.

“Sir?” yelled the guard. “Hey, Sir?”

Drew put his hand up as he continued to walk. “I’m late. I have to get to my assignment.”

“Sir, I need to see your ID.”

Just as Drew reached the door, it flung open, nearly hitting him between the eyes. He stepped back. Another man walked in, full regalia.

“Sorry,” the man said, walking past Drew.

“No, Johnson. Check that man.”

Drew pulled the door open and ran out onto the balcony. A forklift was below, carrying a large crate up a ramp and into the monocar. He dashed to the ladder, and took his first steps down. It might provide cover.

Someone reached for him. “Stop.”

Drew had no intention of following that order. He flicked a glance over his shoulder. His pursuer, strong, determined, military, square jaw, brown hair. Drew, on the other hand, figured he resembled a crazed monkey, scared out of his mind.

“Stop.”

Drew put his feet on either side of the ladder and slid to the floor. He ran toward a monocar ramp that extended into a warehouse. The guy slid down the ladder as well, and rushed after Drew, keeping at his heels.

Up ahead, hundreds of military men worked, the sounds of metal against metal, beeps and buzzes almost deafening, the smell of rubber against concrete almost unbearable. This was an advantage though only a matter of seconds before everyone figured out he was being chased. Then he’d have an entire regiment of well-trained, fit, non-weed-smoking soldiers after him.

He ran into the crowd, elbowing workers, pushing them out of his path. “Sorry, I’m late and in a hurry,” he repeated.

“Late for what?”

“My assignment.”

Past the crowd, he ran up a flight of stairs. Two hundred yards to his right, he spotted several elevators. Behind him, the man in chase pushed through the crowd, pointing at Drew, trying to get his people to understand the situation.

At the top of the stairs, Drew ran across a grated bridge that led to a line of elevators. Down on the monorail, the assembled workers had been alerted to the situation and were heading in his direction. Hunting human prey was more fun than stacking boxes, for sure.

Drew reached the elevators and pressed the up arrow. “Hurry, hurry.”

The elevator dinged. The doors opened. Drew stepped inside, pressing “1.” He had only two options, and since “B” obviously meant “basement”—where he supposed he was now—“1” would most likely take him to the top.

He looked up and swallowed hard. A guy rushed across the bridge. Drew backed away in quick, jerky steps. He cursed the door for not shutting, sweat dripping down his face. In seconds, he’d be caught.

A ding, and the door began to close. The man leaped and thrust his arm outward in an attempt to stick his hand between the doors. He missed. The doors shut and the elevator ascended.

Drew let out a breath he didn’t know he held and took off the camouflage coat like it was an alien trying to suffocate him. He threw it on the floor, along with the hat.

He leaned against the back of the elevator. His legs tingled. “Oh my God.” He wondered who’d be at the top waiting to meet him when the elevator opened.

He checked his pocket, feeling his wallet. His eyes shot wide, “Where’s my phone?” He patted himself down. “What the hell?” His heart sank. Everything he documented, everything he did to escape, for nothing. He sat down hard and heard a crunch. He pushed himself up. He knew exactly what that meant. His phone was in his back pocket, and he’d just broken it.

He fished it out. Relief washed over him. A cracked screen, but a functioning phone. His phone was everything. It was his passport to freedom and a long, healthy life. Or at least a life with a 78% lower chance of assassination. The remaining 22% was for future features; he was sure he’d uncover more top stories and find himself a target again. Who was he kidding. He’d never been in as much danger as he was in now.

The elevator dinged and the panel holding the buttons jutted out, then flipped over, exposing buttons numbering one through nineteen. The “1” and “B,” gone. The doors opened and he stared into a lobby of a nice building, people coming and going wearing nice business attire.

Mouth agape, he took his first steps out. “Where the hell am I?” he blathered to himself. He travelled all night, in a secret, underground monocar. For all he knew, maybe Ottowa, or Montreal, or Texas. The placards on the wall had English words. Still North America, but he didn’t know if in the United States or Canada. In either case, he had to get moving.

30

June 5th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Slade stared at his computer at the Tanner Springs Assisted Living Center website, the place where Drew’s mother had been living for years. Located in Charlotte, North Carolina, the facility was large and fancy.

He didn’t want to ever use this against Drew, but he was out of time and couldn’t have someone screwing up his plans to Callisto. Knowing where Drew’s mother lived would be the best bargaining chip Slade had against Drew. Even if she was a fruit loop. Perhaps her vulnerability was a plus. Drew visited her every week, and for how many years? The kid was attached. If Slade needed to, he could put the smallest amount of pressure on mommy dearest and Drew would cave. He turned his head to the window, allowing himself a millisecond of regret for what he’d become, then dismissed it. “Needs must,” he said. “Duty first.”

He scrolled down the website just as his phone rang. He clicked on the speaker. “Yes?”

“It’s Donny. You might want to get down here and take a look at this. Mr. Jaxx is showing...uh...well...things.”

“What things?”

“I could explain, but better if you see it for yourself.”

“I’m on my way.”

Slade looked at his calendar. Less than a month until they launched to Callisto. Anymore hang ups would need to be dealt swiftly. Jaxx better not be another hang up.

31

June 5th ~ Unknown

Drew walked out of the building with his hands in his pocket. He made sure his stride was confident, comfortable, not some scurrying walk-run that would draw attention. He checked his phone for the time. 8:14 am.

“Pacific standard time?”

Was he in California? No, not warm enough. The street signs said 51st and Hawthorne. He looked up and down the building he exited. No indication of the city or the state. Or the country. The rest of the block had one to two story buildings, this one a skyscraper. “Way to keep a low profile, guys.”

He needed to act as natural as posssible, having just run from the military. He had all the information he needed to expose the truth, and was most likely on a black ops hit list.

They’re probably coming up the elevator now. I have to get out of here.

He jogged down the street until he came to an open restaurant, Por Que. Bikes everywhere. Where the hell were the cars? A license plate would be nice. He shrugged and made his way inside.

“One or two today?” asked the hostess.

Drew smiled. “Can you tell me what city this is?”

The server glanced around, as if looking for pranksters hiding in the restaurant. She leaned to the side, placing a hand on her hip, the other hand touching her lips. “What do you mean, sir?”

“Is this Sacramento?”

“You’re joking, right?”

Drew gave her a serious expression, his hands sliding in and out of his pockets. “I’m sorry. I have a brain condition that causes memory loss. I just need to know what city I’m in.”

Her eyebrows squished together. “Okay, well, you’re in Portland.”

Drew flinched. “Portland, Oregon?”

“Yes.”

He flashed his teeth in another smile, holding back his surprise. He turned and left the restaurant. He had no idea what was in Portland or where he should go next. More importantly, he had to get off the street.

Portland House Motel, a large, worn out sign stood high above the buildings a couple blocks down. Drew started to jog again, taking a gander over his shoulder every so often, then slowed his pace as he came to the motel.

A quaint, two-story affair, a bit worse for the wear. The paint peeled from the porch steps and the windows hadn’t been cleaned in about a century. He wondered how bad a room would smell.

At the desk, he asked the woman for a suite on the second floor. “I’ve got cash.”

“We don’t have suites here.”

“I’ll take whatever.”

She took a drag on her cigarette, then walked to a side window and blew. She grabbed a key and handed it to him. “One flight up, second door on your left. Enjoy.”

The room stank of well-trodden carpet, old sheets, old everything. The walls yellow with green trim, and the lamps and bedside tables straight out of the sixties, though never refurbished.

He pulled a chair up next to the window and shut the curtains, pushing one curtain aside so he could watch the sidewalk and street through the tiny slit.

His phone rang. Sunset to Sunrise displayed on the caller ID. A national radio show, one of the most popular in the country. He’d been on the show about a year ago, interviewed about his life and a few of his documentaries. The show had a conspiracy slant to it, though unlike most conspiracy-type programs it was more credible with experts in the field.

Drew answered.

“I’m sure you are inundated with phone calls.”

Drew scratched his cheek, one eye trained on the street below. “Robert May? Long time.”

“I received your packet in the mail. Interesting, to say the least.”

Drew sighed. “Good. I’m glad someone got something.”

“So, you haven’t been inundated?”

Drew pulled his phone away to see if he had voicemails. None and no missed calls. “I don’t have any. Should I?”

“Your information is all over the news.”

Drew about fell out of his seat. “Who broke the story?”

“Tucker Frost of PointLine.”

“The morning show? Is it on now?” Drew glanced at the sidewalk. Someone suspicious walked by. The guy held a phone, sun glasses, and moved his head in a way as if he tried to locate someone. He disappeared around the corner.

“It’s not just on that show. It’s on just about every news network, even your own.”

“WNN?”

“Yes, they seem to have more information than the rest. I guess you gave them a lot more than you gave any of us.”

Drew nodded and moved to the TV. He clicked it on. Some of the satellite images he leaked was pictured on the tube. Channel after channel showed the same images; telling the same story. His story. He’d managed to get it out there. He had two whole minutes of relief, cut short when he noticed a pattern. The networks only aired pictures he snail-mailed out. The additional data he’d emailed was left out. That meant his email was compromised. The GSA probably had tabs on him. Those bastards had blocked his messages. The whole story wasn’t out there.

He walked back over to the window, pushing the curtain slightly away, peeking outside. Maybe the gal who’d checked him in ratted on him. Or, maybe the hostess at the restaurant. He shrugged. Most likely, they didn’t even remember what he looked like.

“What do you think?” He surveyed the road. A woman walked her dog by a stop sign. No black SUV’s, like he’d seen in the movies. “Of the material. Explosive, right?”

“You sound nervous. Are you okay?”

“Not really. I spent last night and this morning running from the military.”

“Then you need to get on my show, ASAP, Drew. The more the world knows, the less leverage the military and the GSA have on you. Are you all right? Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Can you get me onto your show tonight?”

A pause. He heard Robert shuffling through papers. “I can fit you in my first hour slot, though you’ll be at the tail end of that hour.”

“I’ll take anything.”

“It’s all over the news. The people need to know the truth. I’m happy to have you on.”

“I only know snippets of truth, Robert.”

“But this is your story. Tell us what you can.”

“I have more...a lot more.”

“Send it over.”

“How? My email has been hacked. My phone is probably being...” Drew looked at his phone. Newbie mistake 3000. He used his own phone. He gave them the perfect way to find him. “I gotta go. I’ll call just before the interview. I don’t want to give them a chance to track me. Right now, I have to go somewhere.”

“Thanks, Drew. I’ll speak with you tonight.”

Drew hung up. He had to find a library, create a new email account, and upload his pictures. He’d send out another glob of emails, just as soon as he could. This time, no one would have his new email address, especially Colonel Slade Roberson or anyone else in the GSA. This needed to go primetime, all of it. His face would need to be everywhere. This story had to explode worldwide.

Sending data to every outlet he had a single connection with had worked once. It would work again. The networks were desperate for ratings and would do anything to get and keep their edge. A moment of pleasure weaseled to Drew’s mind, imagining Hobb’s face when the guy realized he had no choice but to air the photographs. The delight was short lived. Drew was still in grave danger. He had to break the rest of the story; at least the rest of what he knew.

But first, his phone. Could they trace his phone while turned off? He couldn’t just throw it away, because everything he needed to expose Slade and GSA sat in his photo library. He couldn’t take out his battery either. His phone didn’t allow it, unless he wanted to screw it up and make it unusable.

He had to make sure “AnimationSpoof” malware, a malware program from some asshole Chinese hackers, wasn’t on his phone. If attached, shutting off his phone would do nothing. AnimationSpoof created an authentic shutdown animation, making his phone seem as if it was shutdown and turned off. It couldn’t be further from the truth and would still be on and traceable.

Pressing his phone’s security icon, he tapped on third party site applications and deleted everything he could find, including Samarai’s Destiny, the greatest game east of the Mississippi. He didn’t want to take the chance.

He ran a security prompt on AnimationSpoof, just in case it got past third party software. It hadn’t. He was safe and shut off his phone. He couldn’t be traced. Not while his phone was off. Crap. Maybe they could? He’d have to hope for the best.

He stood, ready to find a library. Then froze. The TV displayed satellite image after satellite image, the newscasters trying to figure out how pyramids could get on a Jupiter moon, along with jets and helicopter pads. They questioned if this was something alien or a secret government program no one knew about.

Drew laughed. This would be the news story of the century and it had his name written all over it.

32

June 5th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Slade crossed his arms in front of a computer screen. A picture of a brain, highlighted in yellows, greens, blues, and reds displayed on the monitor. “What the hell am I looking at, Donny?”

Donny gestured toward Jaxx. The guy was on the other side of a large window in a dimly lit room, held up by ropes that extended from the wall and wrapped around his wrists. He wore a helmet with wires and nodes. Unlike every other session Slade witnessed, Jaxx stood. But not still, and neither slumped nor defeated. This time, tall and erect, shifting from one foot to the other.

Donny tapped the computer screen. “Imaged here is Jaxx’s brain.”

Slade flicked his wrist at Jaxx. “Why do you insist on making Jaxx stand?”

“We don’t. It’s some type of standing meditation. Most people need to sit down and actively meditate. Jaxx, on the other hand, meditates while he’s unconscious. We hadn’t observed this in him before he had been shot, but since then, we can’t get him to lie down. We suspect this is a way his brain and central nervous system heals the best, fully extended and stimulated, which is why he’s moving back and forth.”

Slade pursed his lips. “So, what is so unique about Jaxx?”

“Remember the documents that one of our operatives acquired from SSP, before their cover was blown?”

Slade nodded. “Get to the point, Donny.”

“Well, one of the documents was written by a doctor. They were acutely aware that Jaxx had an active, uncalcified pineal gland. In fact, it had grown from pea size, which is the normal size, to the size of an almond.”

Slade shrugged. “So?”

Donny glared at Slade, who apparently didn’t get the gist of this discovery. “This explains his telekinesis and his psychic awareness. I don’t think he has figured out how to use it as well as Rivkah, but a woman is different, more powerful in emotional strength than a man—”

Slade clapped his hands together, snapping Donny to attention. “Donny, I just want to know about Jaxx right now. Get me there or I’m leaving. I have a shit-ton of things to do before the launch.”

Donny swallowed. “Okay, do you see the rest of his brain? It’s off the charts. Billions of synapses are firing. Can you imagine what it would be like if he was actually awake?”

Slade couldn’t have cared less. “No.”

“This explains his ability to translate glyphs so quickly and precisely. And you know when we put him under in a hypnotherapy session?” Donny’s eyes brightened. “It is probably what allowed him to intuit enemy starfighter presence and movement before the enemy even moved. It explains how he could hit targets so well and fling space debris at will.”

“Huh. Well, good job.” Slade didn’t know if Donny wanted a slap on the back or a gold medal. He gave him a slap on the back.

“No, no. You don’t get it. Do you know how many people have a pineal gland that is activated and has grown like Jaxx’s?”

Slade grabbed Donny by the shirt and pulled him in. “I don’t have time for twenty questions. Just give me the facts.”

Donny put his hands up. “Okay. I’m sorry. Now, I have only witnessed one other person with this brain activity. Rivkah Ravenwood. And, that’s it. We are experiencing something powerful, here, Slade. This is a jump in the human genome. It’s a DNA activation that science hasn’t seen before, at least not to my knowledge. I’m going to be doing more research, but I think what I’m seeing here is the beginning of some type of superhuman.” He back peddled. “Don’t get me wrong, Rivkah and Jaxx are far from superhuman, but they’re on their way. If any more DNA sequences open up in their bodies, then look out. The sky is the limit.”

“How did they get like this?”

“We don’t know. But, I’m calling it twist DNA, because that’s exactly how we see the signals traveling from the DNA into the pineal gland on both Rivkah and Jaxx.”

Slade found a chair and sat. He figured he’d be in here for a while, listening to science talk. He watched Jaxx shift back and forth.

Donny continued, “Science has discovered genome DNA that does not encode proteins. They call it junk DNA. What I’m finding here is that it’s not junk at all. Not all non-protein-coding DNA is useless.” Donny’s eyes beamed as if he unraveled the greatest mystery in the Universe. “So, I’m calling it as I see it. Twist DNA.” He smiled. “You see, twist DNA interacts with the surrounding genomic environment by providing important signals to genes. Once every twist DNA is expressed, or unlocked, then we will encounter a completely different type of human. This type of human would have activated areas in the brain that were once dormant, and the areas that were not dormant would become more excited, more in-tune to the body and everything around it. Diseases wouldn’t harm the body. Aging would be something of the past. And telepathic communication would be the norm. In regards to Rivkah Ravenwood and Kaden Jaxx, a portion of their twist DNA has been unlocked, turning on their pineal gland. As you have undoubtedly seen, a human with open pineal gland can defy the laws of gravity.”

“Why is Jaxx such a dweeb, when he’s not under hypnosis, if he’s this super-human?”

Donny shrugged. “My guess is he did something the Secret Space Program wasn’t equipped to deal with and they shut him down and wiped his memory. Without those memories, his twist DNA is just sitting there, waiting for him to fire back up.”

“Sounds a bit far-fetched to me.”

“Yup, but so does moving things with your mind and we’ve both seen that in real time.”

A loud wa-bam jerked them both out of their seats. They threw up their arms to protect themselves. Jaxx lifted another chair on the far side of the room and shot it toward the glass.

Wa-bam.

The crack in the glass grew and the chair landed upright, then slid back to the position it had been a second earlier.

“His eyes,” said Slade.

Jaxx’s eyelids were open, his eyes rolled back to reveal only the whites. He smiled, then closed his eyes and hung his head, shifting on his feet again.

33

June 6th ~ Portland, Oregon

Nearing 10:30 PM and Drew took a walk down the streets, waiting to turn his phone on. He didn’t want his motel location compromised and perhaps aimlessly walking the sidewalks might confuse anyone tracking him—if he was still able to be tracked.

Earlier in the day, he had spent hours at the library. He created a new email address and sent all the pictures he took of the underground stash of planes, trains, and dune buggies to as many contacts as he had, using the subject: This is Drew Avera, Vital Information Enclosed.

With his name plastered all over the news, crediting him with securing the Callisto satellite images, this subject line would get many eyes, especially by those contacts that might look over an email they were unfamiliar with. At the library, he also had time to think. There were structures on Callisto. There were space-ready craft in an underground bunker. This wasn’t your usual “unmanned mission.” This was something else.

He turned on his phone. Within seconds, it rang. He held the phone to his ear as he continued to walk. “Hi, Robert.”

“Are you ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“The commercial break is ending, so keep your ear to the phone. We’ll be starting in a few seconds.”

Drew passed a stranger, wondering if she had any weed. He usually conducted interviews a little more relaxed.

Robert continued, beginning his next segment, “We have a special guest on tonight. One that I scheduled this morning, and boy, will this blow your socks off. Drew Avera has been on our show once before. He’s one of the youngest reporters ever to work for World News Network or otherwise known as WNN. By now, you’ve all heard of him. He is the one who leaked the satellite images of the structures on the Jupiter moon, Callisto, along with outing a manned mission to that moon to investigate those structures. Yes, he’s everywhere, but he’s with us tonight, being interviewed for the first time since this story broke. A story that’s consuming our entire nation. He graduated from Columbia University with a Masters in Journalism. He’s well known for documentaries on the JFK Assassination called JFK and the Unknown Files, on the coup attempt in 1933 titled Smedley Butler, the Unsung FDR Savior, and his reports on Alzheimer's, the FDA, and many other amazing news programs. But my guess is this story is going to make Drew Avera a household name. Today he has given us a half hour of his time. Drew, welcome to the show. How are you?”

Drew gnawed one of his fingernails. “I’m alright. I’m a little shaken up over all of this. I didn’t expect I’d be running from the military all night and this morning.” He wanted to get that mess out into the open.

“You were running from the military?”

“Yes, because I have more information. This morning, after chased and shot at, I sent out new images. Images which suggest the mission to Callisto isn’t merely exploratory. Tomorrow, stay tuned, because you’ll see new information on the news.”

“Here at KMWI, Sunset to Sunrise, we’re happy to be the first to bring you those images. Head on over to our website and Facebook page to take a look. Yes, folks, you saw it here first.”

“You uploaded them already?”

“Watching our website numbers climb as we speak, Drew. People want to know what’s going on. So, give us the skinny. We’re all ears.”

Drew walked and talked. “As you know, the Global Safety Administration is launching a mission to investigate the structures on Callisto. I have pictures of the technology they possess which suggests they plan to take hundreds, if not thousands of people, on this mission.”

Drew cringed. It was impossible to black out his uncle’s name on the emails he sent out earlier today. Yet, he still sent them out and he didn’t know if that was a good idea or not. “Kaden Jaxx is the source. You’ll know this tomorrow from the news networks. He’s my uncle. Truthfully, we aren’t that close, but he asked me to help him out and research this information. As you’ve seen in mine and Jaxx’s short back and forth email dialogues, he’s helping the Global Safety Administration with hieroglyph translations from the structures on Callisto. The last email I received from Jaxx got a reaction from someone or some establishment, probably the GSA, and I received an anonymous phone call. The person on the other end let me know that if I don’t stop my investigation, I’d be killed. I was also told my uncle had been killed. I can’t verify that, though, as I don’t know exactly where my uncle is.”

“Have you talked to him since that phone call?”

“No.”

“Do you think he has been murdered?”

“I hope not. I don’t know. Maybe it was just a scare tactic, but regardless, I take that phone call seriously. I’ve been threatened with a death sentence. If I can get my name out there, the probability of a death sentence lessens. And, if Jaxx is still alive, the chances of him being executed will lessen as well.”

“So, do you have any ideas as to why the GSA are keeping this a secret from us?”

“I have plenty of ideas.” He walked across the street. His heart nearly stopped when he saw a black SUV come around the corner. He picked up his pace and ducked behind a bush.

“How are they getting there?”

Drew whispered. “Just a moment.” The SUV drove slowly, beaming a flashlight in his direction. The thick bush hid him well. The SUV hooked a left on another street.

“I took pictures of a gigantic ship that I think they’re preparing to launch. I don’t know how many people and supplies can fit on that thing, but let me tell you, it can probably fit a lot. It’s that massive.”

“What are—”

“I should probably go,” Drew interrupted. “They're looking for me. I’m not safe here.”

“Okay, I understand,” Robert replied. “Thank you, Drew. You’re a true patriot. I’m sure the millions of fine folks listening tonight thank you as well. They will have a lot to think about.”

Drew hung up and felt something press on the back of his head.

“Stand up.” The man’s voice was low.

Drew did, moving slowly and deliberately. He turned around, hands up, mouth shut.

A man in a black leather jacket pointed a gun and aimed it at Drew’s forehead.

34

June 6th ~ Portland, Oregon

Drew called up the precise memory he needed in that moment. He’d been six or seven, the TV his de-facto babysitter, his mom wandering around the house, absent-mindedly chatting to the furniture and singing to the cat. He’d seen a special on television about self-defense. In one scenario, the instructor had a student stick him up with a fake, wooden gun. The instructor held his hands out and as quick as a flash, the instructor crisscrossed his arms, one hand hitting the student’s inner wrist and the other hand smacking the student’s posterior hand. The action caused the gun to fling out of the student’s hand and onto the ground.

This was what Drew knew he had to do. His only escape.

He studied his opponent in front of him. The man had a hoody on under his leather jacket with a black bandanna over his nose and mouth. He was skinny. Too skinny. The gun shook in his hand.

“Give me your phone,” the guy slurred, booze on his breath.

Any second now, Drew would have this guy where he wanted him. Once he dislodged the gun out of the guy’s hand, he’d give him a swift kick to the groin and put him in a submission hold, something the instructor on television had done. It looked easy. Drew was coordinated, played a few sports growing up, and was fast. This should be a cake walk. The only problem, Drew had never punched a guy, let alone wrestled someone to the ground.

“I said, give me your phone.”

Drew stared, blank eyed.

The guy shoved the gun closer to Drew’s face. “Are you deaf? Give me your phone, and then give me your wallet.”

Drew stepped back. Was he a gun magnet?

The man rolled his shoulders and pushed out his chest to make himself bigger, more menacing. “I’m not going to ask again.”

Drew figured the guy must be a meth addict, not a GSA hit-man. He eyed the gun more closely. If a street lamp hadn’t been nearby, he’d been fooled. Whatever it was that this guy held wasn’t a gun. It was meant to look like one, but wrapped in black electrician’s tape with a wooden handle equaled a bad fake pistol.

The guy went to grab the phone when it vibrated. Drew moved it away from the man’s reach and looked at the caller ID.

Hobbs Howell.

Drew put his hand up. “Hold on. I have to get this.”

“Oh, man. C’mon. Don’t do this. I have bullets in this thing, for reals, yo’.”

“Sorry, bro.” He didn’t want to agitate a meth-head, even if the guy had the world’s worst imitation gun. “I need my phone. It’s kinda keeping me alive.” He dug in his pockets. “Here’s ten bucks. Move on. I don’t have time for you and your toy gun.”

The guy swiped the bill from Drew’s outstretched hand and shuffled off, muttering about how unfair the world was.

Drew paid no attention because Hobbs was already talking. “Why did you send me pictures of a warehouse, of a ridiculous train, and—”

“Thought you’d like the rest of the story, boss.”

“Drew, I saw how many people you carbon copied. Next time, please send blind copies. I don’t want everyone knowing that you included me in this scandal. I’ll air it, but to have me, Howell Hobbs, connected directly to this information as if I’m part of your government thievery is too much.”

“I sent carbon copies so that everyone would know that if they didn’t get this story out, then another reporter and another network would. It would be a race to see who came in first.”

He heard the SUV before he saw it. It had that trademark “large vehicle” hum. Why the security services didn’t all have Priuses was a mystery. Those things were like the stealth fighters of cars. Drew pulled himself as close to the tree as possible. A flashlight rolled over the grass and hit his knee, though the rest of his body was hidden well behind the cedar. The car stopped and a door opened and shut. Footsteps came in his direction.

The flashlight swept across the grass, one, two, three times, then turned off. The door opened and shut. The SUV drove off.

Drew whispered into his phone. “They’re trying to find me. They’re in an SUV.”

“Yeah, right,” said Hobbs. “And there are green men on Mars, giant mutant sucker-fish in the sewers, and ‘The Truth is Out There.’ I’ve seen your dark web page, Drew. I know the kind of conspiracy shit you’re into. Now, get your head out your ass and back in the real world. You work for me. You have to give me a little more information. I want an edge. I want to beat out the competition.”

Drew thought for a moment. “You know the picture of the train?”

“Yes.”

“They use those trains—monorails—to transport secret technology from city to city. The tunnel I was in was gigantic. I boarded one in a tunnel in Plano, Texas and wound up in...” He realized it wouldn’t be a good move to give away his current location. “Let’s just say this...I stowed away on the monorail and that tunnel brought me to another city, thousands of miles away. I can’t tell you exactly how long it took me to get here, but it was fast.”

“Which city?”

Drew rubbed his pant leg. “It would be imprudent of me to share my location, Hobbs. We both know that.”

“Anything else?”

His phone beeped. It was KMWI. Probably Robert.

“I have to go.” He hung up without saying goodbye. “Robert?”

“Drew, man. They’re taking the pictures down as fast as we can get them up. The head of the station got a call from some tight-wad from Washington about national security. He about had a cow. He’s ordered us to stop posting your files. This thing is out of control.”

“Goddamit,” said Drew. “At least they got the pictures of Callisto out to the public.”

“Yeah, about that.”

“Aw, shit. No...”

“Yeah, they’re spinning it. Hoax. Prank. Photoshopped. Airbrushed. No such mission, blah-blah-blah.”

“What’s your take? Do people believe the mainstream media? Are they buying it? Or can they smell a cover up?”

“Drewmeister, no one can tell their ass from their elbow any more, especially when it comes to facts. They’ve probably all tuned out to watch reruns of Game of Thrones or Battlestar Galactica. The news cycle is short. They’ve clamped down and they’ve strangled this particular chicken.”

“Chicken?” said Drew. He wasn’t often confused, but Robert’s weed consumption outstripped his by a good mile.

“Figure of speech, my man. The story is dead. Find the next piece of the puzzle and I’ll do my best. See you on the dark side.” Robert hung up.

He turned his phone off, then stared at that palm-sized miracle of modern technology. He literally had his life in his own hands. He wasn’t cut out for a life on the run. They would catch him. And when they did, he wouldn’t have his phone. He knew exactly what to do. He’d have to wait until morning, when the Post Office opened, but then he’d send his freedom to a place where no one could find it. He’d send his phone to his mom.

He cuddled up against the tree. It would be a long night if he even attempted to get sleep, especially where he sat. One thing was for sure, going back to his motel would be a mistake. Who knew how many GSA and military eyes watched that place right now?

35

June 7th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Jaxx rolled away from the water and shook his head, wet-dog style. “What are you doing?”

“Waking you, Jaxx.” It was Slade, arms folded across his chest.

Two guards stood over Jaxx like a prisoner of war.

“You going to make me look like a fool again?” Slade was all snarl and snark.

Jaxx stood, checked his shoulder, then patted himself down with a towel. There was a faint scar where the bullet had struck. He rubbed his chest. It was smooth, unscarred, impossible.

“You were shot. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be dead right now.” Slade tipped his head towards the door and the guards took their cue and left.

Jaxx sat on the wet, cold tile. He was in a locker room shower, shaking. He had a faint recollection that he’d been through this cold-water routine more than once, but decided to ask his most pressing question. His teeth chattered. “I almost died?”

Slade ignored him. “You will no longer have access to the RIOUT room. You’ll work in an office we’ve designated Project Atlantis to appease you.”

Jaxx’s eyes widened. “You’re going to put me back to work?”

“You’ll be working overtime. We’re behind schedule.” Slade reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of gum, then winked. Seemed to be an odd habit. “This isn’t a reward, Jaxx. This is a carrot. I give you what you want, you give me what I want.”

Jaxx heaved himself off the cold tile, holding himself up by leaning his hand against the wall. “And what do you want?”

“We need your brain, Jaxx.” He threw the piece of gum in his mouth. “Nothing’s changed. We need you to translate. We need your expertise with ancient cultures, how pyramids were used as terraforming devices and power plants. And when we reach Callisto, you’ll show us how to turn the pyramids on.”

Jaxx slid his palms down his soaked pant legs, pushing water to the floor. He felt better, more refreshed. Slade and whatever technology they had down in Underfoot Black had saved him. He touched his chest. For a wound to heal like this, he’d had to have been out for months, maybe a year.

“Why aren’t you asking the most obvious question right now?” Slade walked towards Jaxx, his boots clacking on the tile.

Jaxx put his hand on his knees and leaned over in an attempt to quell the spins. “I don’t know what to think about any of this.”

“For a moment, we thought we lost you. Damned glad this place is state of the art. You’d have been a goner on the outside. Here, we can heal what ails you and ail what irks you.” He snorted at his own joke.

Jaxx frowned. “You lost me.”

Slade got down to Jaxx’s level; so close that Jaxx could smell his gum. “I made sure they healed you, Jaxx, but if you cross me again, I can make your life a living hell.” He straightened his jacket as he stood. “That clear enough for you?”

The threat jabbed Jaxx’s memory. “Captain Fox. It was him.” He backed up and bumped into the wall. His eyes darted around. “The bullets...they...Fox tried to kill...” Jaxx shook his head again, his mind pacing at a million miles a second. “Keep that guy away from me.”

Slade raised his voice, ignoring Jaxx a second time. “By imitating the frequency of a healthy cell, stem cell lotions and sprays, along with advanced holographic healing technology, we were able to heal you in a couple of days. And, if you weren’t nearly dead, it would have gone a lot faster.”

Jaxx bared his teeth. “Did you hear me?”

“Yes.” Slade slapped his hands together and Jaxx jerked back. “Pay attention, Jaxx. We have done you a good deed and you will do us a good deed in kind. You’ll help us by giving us something that we now think may be more important.”

Jaxx gave Slade a blank look.

“Your memories.”

Jaxx wrapped his arms around himself to stay warm.

Slade slapped his hands together again, this time more loudly. “Look at me. We need to glean information from you. Information about Rivkah Ravenwood. Information that might benefit us.”

“Keep Fox away from me.”

“He’ll still be around, watching you.”

“That guy needs to be put away for life. He tried to murder me.”

“That’s not how it works, Jaxx. When you send confidential information across the wire, lines get crossed, people get pissed, and you almost end up dead. He had reason to shoot you and he was justified.”

“I refuse to help you if you have that monster following me around. Keep him out of my sight or I’ll sit on my ass and not do a damn thing.”

“You sent vital information to Drew Avera.” There was a softness in Slade’s eyes when he spoke Drew’s name.

The asshole is trying to play me; pretend he has a “gentle” side; that he gets what it means to have family. He can’t soften me up that way.

“We don’t want any of this getting out. If we hadn’t intercepted the emails Drew sent out after receiving your email, this mission would have been severely compromised or completely shut down. Do you know how many people he attempted to contact?” Slade pinched his lower lip.

Jaxx shoulder’s drooped. “You deleted everything he sent?”

Slade gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry. Should I have asked your permission?”

“I don’t care, anymore.” Jaxx shivered and hung his head. “Fox is either kicked off this operation or I’m out and if you hurt one hair on Drew’s body, I’ll refuse to work at all.”

“You screw up again and I’ll kill you myself. Until then, you’ll do what we ask of you or you’ll be hurting Drew in ways you can’t imagine. Also, start preparing your mind for your ascent into the stars. We’re leaving soon.”

Jaxx’s stomach about hit the floor. “How soon?”

“You decoded the propulsion technology. We already have it locked in and ready. We’ll try to leave in less than a month. June 11th.”

That quickly? How technologically advanced is this place?

“Will Captain Richard Fox be out of my life? The guy is insane.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Jaxx flung his hands in the air. “Then kill me now.” He could tell Slade didn’t want to concede.

“Alright. Fox is off Jaxx patrol.”

“Can Jon Shaughnessy join me?”

“No. Enough of this negotiating crap. There will be another who we hope can be of service to you.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Well, are you coming?”

“I don’t have a shirt.”

Slade took off his own shirt and threw it at Jaxx. The guy was buffer than Jaxx thought. “Put it on.”

Jaxx slipped it over his head. “Pants?”

“You have pants on.”

“No, dry pants. These are soaked.”

“I’m not giving you my pants.”

“That’s not what I’m…” Jaxx huffed. “Okay…can I go get some dry pants?”

Slade reached around the corner, grabbing a towel. He tossed it at Jaxx. “That’s all you get. Now, let’s get.”

Jaxx wrapped the towel around himself. “Where are we going?”

“To figure out Rivkah Ravenwood through your memories.”

Jaxx smiled for the first time in days. “Is she safe?”

Slade kept walking.

“What are you doing with her? Tell me, or our deal is off. I mean it. I’d die rather than betray her.”

Slade’s lip curled. He probably thought Jaxx bluffed, but he didn’t. He knew, down in his bones, that he would never let anything bad happen to Rivkah.

“Rivkah has the same brain issue you have and we’re going to see how you two interact. We assume that your issue helps you with how you do your archaeological work, which is why you’re able to decode glyphs so quickly and accurately. We also think it helped with your piloting skills during your time in the SSP. We’re going to see more as to what it does for her and what happens when you two are in close proximity.”

Jaxx wiped off water that dripped down his face. He was going to see Rivkah. Things looked up.

“I need you to focus. Stolen SSP documents pointed us to your specific condition. We then conducted brain scans on you when you were out for a couple of days. We did the same for Rivkah Ravenwood—”

“She’s experiencing these blackouts, these memory reconstructions, the stuff you’ve been having me do in the lab? All that mind-reading and telekinesis shit?”

Slade gave a curt laugh. “She’s more hands on than you, Jaxx. More of a ‘throw your punch first, ask questions later.’”

“But, we’re going to be working together?”

“Sure you are. If she doesn’t kick your ass. Or, as Fox pointed out, kill you first.” He flicked his head to the side. “Now, let’s go. We have a hypnotherapy session waiting for you.”

A young man walked into the locker room, barely twenty-years-old and a little over-weight. Rifle in hand, he swallowed. “Sir?”

“What is it?” asked Slade.

“I’m just the messenger, Sir. Just reporting what I’ve been told.”

“Spit it out, Private.”

The young man closed his eyes and recited his report in a monotone. He’d clearly memorized it. “They had it all taken down. Calls from officials, threats of injunctions and jail time, the whole nine yards. The story went dark for a couple of hours, while all major news outlets reported the pictures of Callisto were fakes.” He took a deep breath.

Slade glared at the floor. If looks had been laser beams, he’d have cut holes clear through to Australia. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

“But, dark web, alternate sources, the tin-hat brigade, they leaked new pictures. Pictures of the craft, the hangar, and the supplies. It’s all over the news. Everything. They know it’s not a hoax and they’re asking questions.”

Slade turned red and glared at Jaxx; again with his laser-sharp look. Jaxx would have been vaporized, if Slade’s eyes had their way. “Scrap Operation Underfoot. We’re going with Operation Heliotrope.” He kicked a locker. “Shit!”

“Operation Heliotrope. Got it.” The kid-soldier wanted out of there, but couldn’t leave until Slade dismissed him.

“Take Jaxx to Donny. Don’t let him out of your sight.” Slade took off running. “Screw these Assholes. Are they really worth it?”

Jaxx turned to his new escort. “Shall we?” For once, he looked forward to his session with Doctor Donny.

36

June 7th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Jaxx marched into Donny’s office and lay on the bed. “Bring it on.”

“How are we today, Mr. Jaxx?” Donny was his usual, unctuous self.

“Cut the bull and put me under. There are things I want to know.”

Donny smiled. “Good, good. There are things Colonel Slade wants to know, too. In fact, I have a list of keywords which, with your permission, I am going to feed into your session.”

“Fine, whatever. Do it.”

Jaxx knew he was missing something central. It didn’t add up. Slade wouldn’t just keep him around to ride and ridicule him; he had no interest in the telekinesis and didn’t believe in the mind-reading stuff. Jaxx dug deep into his brain and thought hard. Harder than he had in many, many years. Then it hit him. They—they being GSA—didn’t have all they needed to successfully travel to, or colonize, Callisto and they needed him to find that missing piece of evidence. At least, that was one theory. He tucked it in the back of his mind for further consideration.

“You are relaxed,” said Donny. “You are at peace. You are…”

Jaxx was already under and, as with his last session, he watched the past, while in the past. He was coming into his own. He was starting to remember, rather than just play-back scenes which started to fade as soon as he woke. He was thrilled to note he wasn’t in his cockpit, or Admiral Gentry’s office, or any other place he’d ever been. He was in a new place, a new memory. A memory neither Slade nor Donny needed to know anything about.

Then he realized that, in addition to this being a completely new memory, for the first time since he’d been plunked back into his buried past, he understood the context. He was in a huge briefing room prepping for a sortie into enemy territory. There was only one problem. Jaxx was an avowed pacifist. Always had been, always would be. Whatever they’d done to him, to get him into that jet fighter and take enemy planes down, they weren’t going to do again. He’d resist. He wouldn’t drink the Kool-Aid, or whatever it was they dosed him up with. He’d stand down and be court martialed. He didn’t care.

Captain Richard Fox walked on to the stage and stood behind a podium, skimming over a document he’d probably read a dozen times. He tossed it on a nearby table and grabbed both sides of the podium. “Intel reports suggest that the Taiyonians are hostile. Good on the offensive front, excellent on the defensive. They’re a high-tech society. Very advanced. Blah-blah-screw-that-shit-blah.”

There were hundreds of pilots—jocks, all of them—hanging on Fox’s every word.

“This shit ain’t gonna be easy. I’ve been watching the Kelhoon-Taiyonian war on my holo-vid for the last couple of weeks. The Taiyonians are fast, accurate, and deadly. Their fleet is just as big as ours, their starfighters match our speed and maneuverability. They work as a team like none other. Don’t get cocky with these sons-of-bitches, because your ass will be space debris the moment you let up.” He paused, and did his best to look into as many eyes in the room as he possibly could in a span of five seconds. “We’re on a Star Cruiser, First Class, Liberty. And, that’s our job and our right, to bring liberty to the Kelhoon.”

He swiped the document back into his hands, read a couple more lines, and shook his head in dismay. “All right. I almost forgot, so listen up. The Kelhoon are off-quadrant, replenishing. We’ll be a surprise to the Taiyonians when we arrive in the Kepler System in eighteen minutes. Your squad leaders have your assignments. They’ve been thoroughly briefed. Get in your starfighters and don’t fuck up.”

He walked off the small stage and exited left. Everyone stood, including Jaxx. He had on his jumpsuit and held his helmet at his side.

Rivkah patted him on the butt like a coach on a baseball team. “Guess who’s joining our squad?” Her lips drooped.

Jaxx shrugged. More than one hot-head rookie could join the squad and harsh their mellow. “Lieutenant Struthers?” The kid acted like a rock stars. Top of the class in every thing, or so Jaxx heard.

“No. Captain Richard Fox. I think he wants to experience your unique skills.”

Jaxx held back the urge to throw up. He should have seen that coming. Damn Fox was in the mix. He hurried to a bench against a wall and sat, his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. His fingers tingled and his mind spun. He shook his head. “I can’t do this. I’m not a killer.” I’m not like Fox or any of these space jocks.

Rivkah sat next to him, her hand on his back. “Listen, Lieutenant. I get it. It’s the same for all of us. Very few are born with the balls to end another Being’s life, but we’re trained for this and your training will kick in and I’m guessing so will that strange talent of yours.” She lifted his chin. “Look at me. From what I saw the last time you flew, that odd talent makes you the best pilot here. And we’re an elite crew, which means your skills rank above the best.”

Jaxx wanted to push her away. He’d been forced into this war. He was an archaeologist, not a space cowboy. “Who are they?”

“Who are who, Jaxx?”

“The Taiyonians. What do they look like?”

“We don’t know. The Kelhoons wouldn’t hand that information over to us.”

“Why do we have to kill them? Why do we even have to fight them?”

“Like I said before, it’s what we signed up to do. I think it’s bullshit to take on an alien race, but we’re protecting Earth. That I know.”

Jaxx straightened. “Shit. Alien races. We’re protecting Earth, huh?”

Rivkah raised her eyebrows. “Look at it this way. We are exterminating a menace. The Taiyonians are like rats taking over your house. You leave them be and they’ll just grow in numbers, tearing your home apart, leaving shit balls everywhere. If you get rid of them immediately, then you’ll have peace in your house again.”

“You don’t believe that.”

Rivkah pulled Jaxx into a standing position. “Don’t let Fox see you like this. He has ways of sending those he considers low-life wimps to the brig, or worse yet, on missions where you’ll never return...just to get rid of you.”

“All right.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t like being a baby sitter. Now, follow me.”

Rivkah led Jaxx into the launch bay. Starfighters were parked in rows and pilots were climbing into their cockpits.

“Who else is in our squadron?” asked Jaxx

“Just us.”

Jaxx stopped. “You mean, me, you, and Fox?”

“Yes, Sir.” She patted a starfighter. “This is your SF-13 Air Wing. Strap in.”

The fumes, the noise, and the knowledge that he was about to meet enemy starfighters face to face sent Jaxx into overload. The past faded and he groped his way back to his present.

“There are wars,” he mumbled. “Check glyphs for wars…”

Donny looked at the clock, grimacing. It had been a few hours but he most likely hadn’t run through the list of all the trigger words Slade had given him. From what Jaxx remembered, Donny didn’t like keeping his subjects under for too long. “Jaxx, we have to keep going. I’m sorry.” His job no doubt depended on it.

“Jaxx, understand you’re safe. You’re going deeper, conjuring up vivid memories...”

37

June 7th ~ Portland, Oregon

The sun’s rays splintered through the cracks in the cedar trees and branches which shadowed the spot where Drew lay. He felt for his phone. Still there. He wiped the slobber from his cheek and shook the dirt out of his hair.

He powered his phone on, watching a car drive down the street, its turn signal blinking.

Drew was tired, stiff, and a little wet from the dew. His phone displayed 8:07 AM and his phone’s battery was at twenty-seven percent. He’d need to ration his phone use.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. The phone rang. Hobbs Howell. Again. He yawned and stretched, rubbing his stomach. “Hey, Hobbs.”

“Are you happy?”

He glanced down the road and, seeing no cars, walked across the street. He needed food. There had to be a bagel shop nearby. “I don’t think happy is a word that can describe the feelings I’m having lately.”

“Well, we ran the story this morning on WNN morning news. The internet, all major news networks, and radio shows are having a hay day with our particular take on the story. That Drew Avera is our star undercover reporter and is still undercover as we speak. All the news heads are looking for you. And you have critics. We need you on our nightly news program to defend yourself. Please don’t speak with any other networks until you’ve spoken with us. You’re our reporter. Remember that.”

Drew rolled his eyes. “Gotcha. And who’d you get to argue against my facts, my documents, my research that I almost died to get?” He turned a corner.

“Colonel Slade Roberson.”

Drew stopped in his tracks. “The head of the GSA?”

“Yes.”

He looked at his battery—twenty-five percent. “I have to get off the phone. I’ll call you later.”

“No, you need to prep. If Slade’s shitting us, you need to counter his spin, give us the facts.”

Hobbs was right. They wanted him to look good and right, and Slade bad and wrong. Drew wanted the same thing. Prepping was one way to do that. But he couldn’t. No battery life. “If I keep talking, my battery will die.”

A bagel shop was across the street. “Thank, God.”

“What was that?” Hobbs asked.

“Nothing. I’ll call in on the Nightly News line. Just put a picture of me up on the split screen. You’ll hear my voice.”

“What about prep?”

“Sure, but I need food.”

“Remember, Drew, during the interview always complete your thoughts, even after being interrupted.”

“Got it, boss.” He hung up, then powered down his phone, seeing the phone was at twenty-one percent before it shut off.

He jogged across the street.

Drew opened the glass door, the cooked dough aroma filling his senses. He stood in a short line.

A young woman sat at a corner table gave him a glance. He smiled. He knew what she was about. She did everything in her power to not throw her half-eaten bagel away, dump her coffee, and approach him like a cat in heat. He then realized he hadn’t brushed off the dirt on his clothes.

“I’ll take two bagels and a small coffee...black.”

The cashier rang him up. “$8.85, sir.”

He reached into his pocket for his wallet. His pocket was empty. He dug into his other pocket. Empty. He searched his back pockets. Same results. He dropped his head, defeated. “Not good.”

His stomach growled. He leaned on the counter; eyebrows raised. A look he hoped was vulnerable and charming. “You’re not doing a free special on bagels and coffee today, are you?”

“Cute,” she said, “but no, we’re not.”

Drew nodded, dejected.

“My boyfriend works down at the co-op on Strand and Overbrook. If you hit them up at around noon, they have samples and, as long as you’re polite and don’t pull any asshole moves like panhandling the customers, they’ll let you graze your way through the store.”

“Wow. Thanks. I owe you.”

“Hope you find your wallet.”

Drew left the store and its heavenly yeasty smell. With a few hours to kill, he needed to raise enough cash to get his phone in the mail.

In a squidge-proof carrier.

Before anyone tracked him down and put a bullet in his brain.

Or took him prisoner.

Or worse.

Drew knew, having spent a lot of his free time with assorted conspiracists, geeks, and weirdos that there were many things worse than death. He also knew how to juggle while reciting pi, which for some reason, was a crowd pleaser.

It took him two and half hours of non-stop juggling to raise enough money for postage and packaging. He wrote his mom’s name in big, bold letters on the padded envelope and included a card—kitties in a watering can, something she’d think was darling and harmless—then sent his entire life insurance package to her in the United States Postal Service.

He checked the clock on the Post Office wall. Ten to twelve. Thank all the gods that ever were. Screw the government and the GSA and the spaceships and the conspiracy and Slade whatshisname. Free food beckoned.

Drew never liked it when organic food co-ops weren’t busy. It usually meant that the larger, corporate stores took money away from hardworking hippies.

He cruised the freebie tables arranged around the store three times and no one had said a single word. Other than the guy with the beanie, stacking oranges in the produce section, Drew was the only customer in the store. These stores always smelled of granola and sweat, and the sweat was a little too intense.

He moseyed around and made sure nobody watched, then lifted his arm and sniffed his pit. The intensity was him, not the store. He glanced at the bathroom. They wouldn’t kick him out if he had a standing wash at one of their sinks. Would they? No. They were hippies. He needed to smell a little better before heading back out to raise funds for his disposable phone.

After the wash, he found himself outside the store. And, damn, Portlandians were free with their cash. He juggled, offered up quadratic equations which apparently sounded impressive if you had no idea what quadratic equations were, and juggled his way to a new, disposable phone, a whole bagel with pastrami, mustard, and all the fixings, and been able to leave an overly-generous tip to the staffer who’d been kind enough to point him to the co-op, when he’d been sure he was going to die of starvation. Things were looking good.

His story was out there, his source material was safe. Slade was on the ropes. Drew hadn’t prepped but he didn’t need to. He had the facts on his side. He idled his way around Portland’s friendly streets until it was time for the show.

Normally, calling in at least forty-five minutes before WNN’s Nightly News was usual protocol. Things needed to be said, orders had to be listened to, and going over prep again and again was a must.

Ten minutes before airtime, he dialed WNN’s Nightly News producer, Michelle Lowry.

“It’s about time you called. Where have you been? Colonel Slade Roberson has been on standby for almost a half an hour. He’s prepared. You’re not.”

Drew looked out over the Laurelhurst Park. A cluster of brush and trees stood between him and the sidewalk, hiding him from view. “I’m ready when he is.”

“Fine. Interview starts in three minutes.”

“Put me through.”

The moment she did Drew heard the opening credits. It was a big deal, this interview. There was more to the story and he needed to get Slade to stumble or at least fumble a pass. Trouble was, he couldn’t see the man’s face. He knew exactly what he’d be looking for. He’d seen it in that Rock Magazine interview. But without a visual, he’d be relying solely on the tone and tempo of the man’s voice. Beads of sweat formed on his lip and he rubbed his pant leg nervously.

The credits came to an end. “From WNN’s Nightly News headquartered in Chicago, this is Connor Eves.”

Drew could remember the beginning credits as if watching the opening from his couch. Connor probably smiled into the camera, his good looks and large eye brows dominating the screen.

Connor spoke with conviction. Everything he said was smooth and convincing. “Today, we have a remarkable story. From what we’ve all heard, science fiction is no longer something of the future. It is here, now. It’s science fact. In stunning developments that came to light late yesterday and early this morning, our very own WNN reporter, Drew Avera, has come by documents, satellite images, and an email correspondence with a Global Safety Administration insider to give you a detailed look at what’s going on behind government scenes, particularly with the Global Safety Administration. And, he’s here today, along with Colonel Slade Roberson, who’s been mentioned in all but a few of those documents, for a special edition of Tonight Talk.”

Tonight Talk was a segment where two guests haggled it out, without much interviewing between. Entertainment that often turned into a fist fight, instead of a well-curated interview, where the guests could do their best to persuade the viewer to their side.

“Welcome Colonel Slade Roberson,” Connor said.

“Thank you,” replied Slade. “It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“And, nice to hear your voice again, Drew.”

Drew bobbed his head up and down. Here we go. It’s time to use my mature voice. “Thank you, Connor. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

“Colonel Roberson. GSA documents, GSA satellite images, and like I said, email correspondence from an inside source has been all over the news the last thirty-six hours.”

Drew wished he could see Slade to watch the worry build on the Colonel’s face, but when Slade spoke, the guy was confident. “I can’t say much about the email correspondence, other than it was an uncle and his nephew—”

Drew butted in. “‘Uncle and nephew mean nothing in this situation. All we need to know is whether Kaden Jaxx does in fact work for you?”

“Yes, he is an archaeologist hired to research highly classified satellite images taken by the TECS IV satellite. What he was not hired to do was to speak with anyone about military and government classified information outside of the Global Safety Administration. There were several laws broken but let me first start out by saying that there is a reason for classified material. We don’t want other governments co-opting the United States special interests. Our goal is to keep the citizens of the United States safe and secure. This leak, which has now consumed the entire globe, is no longer in our hands. It’s now in the hands of governments that do not have the interest of the American people at heart. They have their own, self-serving interests. The email correspondence between Kaden Jaxx and Drew Avera was—I’m sorry to say it Connor—treasonous. This leak is going to set us back as a nation.”

“How is it going to set us back, Colonel?” inquired Connor.

“When researching highly detailed material, like the reported structures on Callisto, it is best to take it slow. We need to be methodical. We can no longer do that. This has created a race between us and the other major powers in the world. A frantic race creates mistakes.”

“Drew, anything to add?”

“I do.” He eyed the cars that approached a traffic light. All of them, too slow. “Let’s forget about Kaden Jaxx for the moment and get to the meat of the issue. The photographs of the underground bunker, which I sent to—”

“Which you stole,” Slade barked.

Drew shifted on the grass. Even over the phone, and hundreds of miles away, the man was intimidating.

Slade calmed himself. “Of course we want to investigate the discovery on the Jupiter moon, Callisto. How did those structures get there? Who built them? How old are they? Those are basic questions anyone would ask themselves. This isn’t some conspiracy. This is an incredible exploration of the human past.”

Connor cut in, clearly excited. “Are you saying these structures are man-made?”

“There’s no evidence to suggest any planet in the solar system can support intelligent life. So, no on the aliens. My best guess, it’s human-made.”

Drew bit his cheek. “Alright, let’s get back to the subject at hand. We can discuss aliens in a minute.” He stretched his neck to the side until the bones clicked. “Colonel, you’ve admitted that this is a manned mission. But I have taken pictures of luggage, supplies, a train that can hold a dozen giant spaceships, why so many—”

“You’re wrong. You’re jumping to conclusions. You have no idea what you saw when you were...” he laughed, long and hard; Drew could just see him sneering into the cameras, “when you were scurrying around a flight hanger with too much weed in your system.”

Drew thumped his hand into the dirt. He knew it had been a mistake to give that guard a toke. “I know what I saw.”

Slade ignored him. “We’re going to be as open as we can on this. We’ve been holding back a lot of information from the public for good reason. Now, we can’t. So, we’ll be transparent to—”

“You’re planning a mass evacuation…I don’t know who’s going or when, but you have enough supplies prepped to take a few thousand people off-world…”

Slade laughed. “That’s nonsense.” He cleared his throat. “Look, the launch is happening, that much is true. We are investigating structures found on Callisto. There are structures there and we don’t know how they got there. The manned mission may take five years, but we’re well prepared. This will be the first of its kind. When we get there, we’ll conduct archaeological research. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“Will you be airing the launch?” the anchor inquired. “Will you air everything you discover?”

“We weren’t going to air anything, but now we will. The United States of America will be the first on that moon.” Drew imagined Slade looking into the camera, like a polished politician. “I want to apologize to the American people. No, to the world. I want to apologize that the administration I head, the GSA, held back vital information from the public. We did so, as I said, for good reason, though never to harm or keep you out of the loop. Our intent was to make this mission run as smoothly as possible. We didn’t want any hiccups and we didn’t want any delays.”

Drew’s mouth dropped. So phony, so premeditated. “Who’s leading this mission?”

“I’ll pilot the first ship of its kind, First Class SS-1. We won’t give its location out. We don’t want any terrorism or espionage. Once we leave Earth’s upper atmosphere, we’ll dock with the remainder of the ship. We’re calling it...Starship Atlantis.”

“You created a starship in a month?” To Drew, that was odd. It would have already been created before they had even found the structures on Callisto. How many of these highly technological ships do they have?

“We found these structures long ago and a starship has been in production for almost as long.”

Drew could tell Slade lied. The dates TECS IV satellite took the images and sent them to GSA was in May of this year, not years ago. But before Drew could ask the myriad of questions forming in his mind, his phone died. He had enough power, but he’d lost the signal. Or, more likely, Slade’s people had arranged to have him cut off. Easy enough to do.

He slammed his hand into the back of his head. He did his best not to throw his cheap-ass burner phone on the ground and watch it splinter into a dozen pieces. He’d had a terrible interview. Slade had a great one. A disaster. The tides had turned. Drew was no longer in the limelight. Instead, it was Slade.

There had to be more to it. The man hadn’t assembled a potential army of spaceships—at least that’s what Drew was piecing together—to take a couple of archeologists into space. He needed an in. He needed data. He needed to be the investigative reporter he’d always wanted to be.

He reached into his pocket and jingled his change. First, though, he needed a doobie. It was Portland. All he needed to do was throw a rock. He didn’t even need to hit a dealer. Heck, the guy in the suit, strolling toward the MAXX, would probably sell him a blunt for a couple of bucks.

Soon as he’d smoothed his feathers, he planned to get out there and find out what Slade was up to.

38

June 8th ~ Oospore Class-9 Dropship, Quadrant E ~ Earth Entry

Special Agent Nick Cole watched Earth on his view screen. The planet drew closer. In less than a minute, he’d be plummeting through Earth’s atmosphere in his dropship, a Secret Space Program Oospore Class 9. He called his dropship, Berry; after Chuck Berry, who knew how to rock his guitar and have a damned good time.

He waived his finger over a holographic button on his control panel. He patched to the Star Carrier, Star Warden. “This is SA Nick Cole, Dropship Berry. Target Grenada, Kaden Jaxx. I’m descending in forty-eight seconds. I’ll retrieve target soon and bend the throttle to our new way-point in J-quadrant. Clear.”

No reply.

He narrowed his eyes and waived his finger over the holographic button again. “Star Warden, this is SA Nick Cole, calling from Dropship Berry. Do you read?”

Nothing.

Was the comm line down?

“This is SA Nick Cole, call-sign Dropship Berry, requesting confirmation of positive Comm Line connection. Clear.”

A crackle. “SSP Oospore Berry, this is Star Warden, we read you.”

“Thank you, Star Warden. Was the comm line down? Clear.”

A long pause. “Patching Admiral Gentry Race through.”

Cole felt his back straighten, his features fall into standard “admiral on deck” formation. It wasn’t just a show. He liked the admiral. He gave him plenty of lee-way, which Cole took as a sign of respect.

“Cole?” the Admiral sounded upbeat, jovial even.

“Admiral.”

“We have new orders for you. You’re to leave Jaxx. For now. He’ll be flagged as target number two. Target number one will be to extract a Drew Avera. He has no training, no military background, and no backbone. Should be a piece of piss.” The Admiral had to be in his own quarters, or he’d never have spoken so loosely.

“Requesting permission to speak freely,” said Cole

“Permission granted.”

“I want that maggot Jaxx squirming on my line, sir.”

“I know, Cole. We all do. And he’ll get what’s coming to him. But I’ve just had a very illuminating conversation with Colonel Slade.”

“Slade, sir?

“Indeed.”

Cole nodded. Things were getting interesting. Slade was back in the mix.

“Seems his mission to Callisto intersects with our own interests.”

Cole waited. The admiral didn’t elaborate.

“This Drew fellow is something of a fly in the ointment. He got close to the plans, but has the wrong end of the stick, which is how we’d like it to stay. You need to extract him, however you may.”

“Extract, sir?”

“Correct, Cole. He’s a threat to our future.”

“Admiral, I’ll wrap up the assignment and deliver the target to you. Clear.”

“Good man, Cole.”

Cole could hear the whiskey decanter hit the side of the admiral’s glass as he signed off. Would have been nice, to have a whiskey in space. But taking care of what needed taking care of suited him better. If Drew Avera was a threat, he’d remove him. With prejudice. Prejudice, speed, efficiency, and relish.

He sat in a strong posture, exuding calm and focus. In less than twenty seconds, he’d descend to a planet he hadn’t been on in years. It was nice to be home, even for a short stint.

He waited for Star Warden to relay Avera’s last known fingerprints. Sure enough, the location came through. Portland, Oregon. Home to the biggest band of bleeding-heart hippies on the planet. He didn’t even need to be discreet. Half the population of Oregon would be stoned and awed, the other half would simply accept it as a cosmic event. Karma come home to roost, or some other nonsense.

He’d approach quietly, landing by the waterfront, find his way to Avera, and then end his time on the planet.

Ten seconds until entry. He’d go for a brief grab, twist, and release. Hopefully not too many people would try to interfere. Right now, he didn’t care. He cared more about the new alliance Gentry formed with Slade. That was one shit show he did not want to miss.

39

June 8th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Though he cruised through space at sub-light speed 2.5, roughly 17,000 miles per hour, somewhere far, far away, Jaxx could hear Donny’s tinny voice, urging him to remain under, to search for the power source, to unlock the secret codes and give them the key. He had no clue what the man was on about.

“Remember what I always say,” Rivkah whispered over his comm. “Butts in buckets, bullets in battle, then back to base.”

Jaxx grinned. If anything could make him go to war, it was her.

“Squad leaders, listen up,” Fox’s voice oozed over Jaxx’s cockpit comm line.

All squadrons had been deployed and were eleven miles from Star Cruiser Liberty. A blue and green planet, looking much like Earth, came into view.

According to the intel the screen at the bottom of his helmet was feeding him, it was Taiyo.

“Viper Squadron, enter Taiyo twelve degrees north, thirty-two degrees east. Boom Squadron, thirteen degrees north, thirty-three degrees east. Hell squadron, eleven degrees north, thirty-one degrees east. We’ll hammer all angles of their main base. They do not know we are showing up. They do not know if we mean harm. If you receive communication from them, do not answer.”

Over his right wing, Jaxx saw hundreds of fighters barreling toward Taiyo. Jaxx was at the outer rim of the starfighters, Fox and Rivkah directly in front of him. He swallowed hard, doing his best not to piss his pants.

His personal comm channel blared back to life. “Rivkah, Jaxx, this is Captain Fox. We’re sweeping in at coordinates two degrees north, two degrees east, just above the equatorial region. We are on a reconnaissance mission of sorts. We’re tasked to punch in and punch out of a main city. We’ll do some damage, but keep it light. We want to put the frighteners on them, not flatten them. When they move out, we move in. They are extracting resources at that location. Resources that we could use. Understood?”

“Affirmative, sir,” Jaxx had a bad, bad feeling.

“That’s not the assignment we were given,” came Rivkah. “What happened to being the last strafe run at the base we’re targeting?”

“Things changed. Get prepared, because we enter Taiyo’s atmosphere in forty-one seconds. If things get bad down there, don’t punch out. No telling what they’ll do to you once you step on their soil. Better to die than be a slave.”

Right on cue, Jaxx’s cockpit beeped with hundreds of enemy craft flying through Taiyo’s exosphere and heading their way. Round one underway.

“Enemy craft, twelve o’clock,” yelled a pilot.

“We see them, ready to engage. Fire whenever the hell you want to,” said Fox.

The Air Wings let loose and plasma bolts dotted the view along with Space to Space Short Range Missiles—SSRM-23 Slingers—with blue flames streaming out the missiles’ backs, propelling them at upwards of twenty thousand miles per hour.

Jaxx, on the other hand, kept his finger off the trigger. He figured he’d only fire if fired upon.

The enemy bandits pulled evasion maneuvers with expert coordination and skill, evading them.

“Holy shit, did you see that?” screamed a pilot.

The enemy fighters zipped on by, spinning on their sides, passing through narrow gaps between each Air Wing. The enemy still hadn’t fired a single shot.

“Viper Squad, pull around and engage. The rest, continue to coordinates,” ordered Fox. “Looks like they like to fight in tight corners, even out in space. Spread out. Don’t give them an advantage.”

Jaxx’s personal comm line crackled on. It was Fox. “Veer off. We’re entering the atmosphere and at the specified coordinates. Get ready. Shit’s about to get real.”

Jaxx pressed adjusted his craft to forty-five degrees for atmosphere entry, then followed Rivkah and Fox into Taiyo’s upper atmosphere.

Jaxx’s craft shook. Gravity suckered him onto his seat, like a limpet. His craft rocked and vibrated, but he was in control. “Butts in buckets,” as Rivkah would say. The entry’s friction illuminated the nose of his craft in yellows and reds, like a fireball doing its best to lick him into oblivion. He squeezed his control stick to keep his craft steady. A moment later the fire died down, then faded to nothing. He was in Taiyo’s lower atmosphere. He leveled out into a glide.

He glanced over his wing again, seeing Rivkah several starfighter lengths away, though close enough for him to see her in her cockpit.

She gave him a thumbs up.

Fox was on the other side of her. He didn’t acknowledge either of them.

“Descend quickly,” ordered Fox.

“Aye, Captain,” Rivkah replied.

Jaxx pushed his control stick forward, zooming toward the earth below. When the altimeter met one thousand feet, Fox and Rivkah started to level out.

Jaxx did the same. His mouth fell open.

In the distance was a vast city over a lake. The lake was clear, and so translucent, so unsullied it appeared that it had inner glow, all azure hues and Mediterranean blues. Easily midday, the sun shone down on the city, which sparkled like a glittering work of art; unlike anything he’d ever seen. The outer rim had small domes which, if he was estimating their distance accurately, were probably equivalent to the size of three or four-story buildings. Attached to each dome was a fully-covered walkway or roadway that attached to larger domes toward the city center. The closer to the center, the bigger the domes. The largest dome directly in the middle.

Crafts flew above the city, some entering through openings in the domes, others exiting. They didn’t seem to be in a hurry. Neither did they seem alarmed that Jaxx, Rivkah, and Fox approached like hellfire in their SF-13 Air Wings.

To the west of the majestic city, rivers flowed into a massive lake. Green valleys below, lined with hills covered with unfamiliar trees, some with purple elephant-ear fronds reaching into the sky; others made up of turquoise feathers that fluttered and hummed as Jaxx zipped by. On the plain, lion-like horses galloped alongside gargantuan land-fish. Creatures worked the fields, and watched the starfighters pass overhead. It was peaceful, magical. Jaxx jaw hit his chin.

He let his eyes roam the lush and verdant land, taking in these new and unusual sights. A magnificent mountain range towered behind the already towering city, and that’s where Jaxx first saw them. A dozen enemy starfighters flying over the lip of the range and headed his way.

“Incoming,” warned Rivkah.

“They’re coming in hot. Ready your weapons,” ordered Fox.

Jaxx flicked off the safety fastened to his control stick, exposing the trigger. Beauty turned on its head and became the devil. Gobs of moisture ran down his sides. He wasn’t cut out for this, no matter what Rivkah said.

“The Taiyonians are here to party,” Fox howled. “Let’s give them a show.”

Fox let loose a few Air to Air Intermediate Missiles, AAIM-5 Darts. He followed with a volley of cannon fire.

The Taiyonians fired back, hitting the missiles and blowing them apart, then twisted away from the cannon blasts like dancers in ballet practice.

“How did they do that?” said Rivkah.

“Stay focused,” Fox demanded.

The Taiyonians split off. Some right, some left.

“Target locked. Firing.” Fox spat two Darts directly at the city, then pulled up.

Rivkah followed suit.

Jaxx didn’t.

“Jaxx, fire you son of a bitch! Fire!” yelled Fox.

Jaxx kept his finger off the trigger and pulled up. Explosions filled the city, domes arched to the side, tumbled over, and crumbled into the gloom of rising smoke.

This isn’t right.

Jaxx banked left, following Rivkah, then heard a beep, then several more. A bandit had Jaxx in weapons lock.

And then it happened, as unexpected as it was welcome. A pull came over his body, and then a pop as Jaxx felt his consciousness expand. His vision was no longer inside the cockpit, his arms no longer by his side. His confidence soared and his fear vanished. It took his breath away, but not for long.

Beeps filled his cockpit, accompanied by several bursts of weapons’ fire behind him. He told his body and his craft made a sharp descent. The shots missed but the bandit followed after him.

Jaxx lifted his craft and leveled out for a moment, then pulled a short loop, and skimmed a bogey’s topside. A darkened window covered the cockpit. He still didn’t know what the Taiyonians looked like.

He pulled in behind the enemy. Jaxx intuited that the bogey would pull a hard wingover left, attempting a small turn radius into a quarter loop allowing the enemy to go into an eventual vertical climb. He didn’t know how he knew this, but he did.

Jaxx adjusted his crosshairs just left of the bandit. He pulled the trigger, letting out plasma blasts. In the same instant Jaxx touched his trigger, the bandit pulled left, just as Jaxx predicted.

A dozen hits, and the bogey erupted in smoke and fire.

Jaxx flew through the flames.

“I have two bandits on me, locked and loaded,” screamed Rivkah. “Need assistance, need assistance.”

Jaxx pulled around, several fighters on his tail.

Fox downed an enemy near the mountain range. He circled around and dove in for another pass at the city.

“I’m coming, Rivkah,” Jaxx responded, twisting and evading more weapons fire.

Within seconds, he spotted Rivkah, dancing her Air Wing in every direction possible, avoiding what looked like red-tracer rounds sliding past her wings.

Predicting the enemy’s flight movements, he zeroed in on an empty space in the sky, knowing this would be the trajectory of the bogey, and shot a AAIM-5 Dart. An moment later, the enemy entered the predicted space and blew into flames.

The bandits following Jaxx were nearing target lock. Any second now they’d pull their triggers, ending Jaxx, turning him into a blaze of splendor. Jaxx hoped he’d draw them in closer, precisely for his next maneuver.

He spun a one-hundred-eighty degree turn, slowing himself in the process. He lit the attackers up with countless plasma bolts, downing the lead starfighter and clipping the wing of the starfighter behind it. The lead ended like the rest, an explosion of hot colors, and the tail fighter twirled end over end, hitting the earth and toppling trees as it slid across the hillside. It left a scorched trail.

“Time to punch out and get back to Liberty,” Fox bellowed.

Fox pulled up from another strafe run that left the city full of smoke and light, a portion of the city now unrecognizable. He sped toward Jaxx with enemy fighters on his six.

Rivkah was still being chased.

It was either Jaxx saving her or she’d have to pull a lucky one and get off-planet alive. That wasn’t likely.

Fox turned his afterburners on, reaching the clouds. “Get back to Liberty.” He disappeared into the clouds.

“I can’t shake him,” Rivkah shouted. “Leave me and get on Fox’s six, Jaxx. He may need you.”

A beep filled his cockpit and Jaxx’s stomach sank. “We have twelve more incoming. Fall away east and let them follow. Get low, use the terrain as your defense. I’m going to get some to chase me. Understand?”

“Negative, Jaxx. Orders are orders. Get out.”

Jaxx flew in a wide arc toward the twelve incoming and twisted around to bother them as best he could. It worked.

Half of the bandits broke off in perfect unison, as if piloted by computers. Jaxx pulled a wide loop and they tailed him. The others kept formation, Rivkah in their targets.

A shrill boomed in Jaxx’s ears. “I’m hit. I’m ejecting, Jaxx. I’m ejecting.”

“Pull up, Rivkah.”

“Too much damage for that, Jaxx. The hole is the size of Alaska. I’m out.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Jaxx saw an outburst of fire, dirt, and debris as Rivkah’s Air Wing pounded into the Taiyo forest. His heart thudded dully in his chest until he saw Rivkah falling toward the ground, her parachute ensuring her slow descent.

The starfighter who downed her could have easily picked her off. She was a sitting target. Instead, he pulled a barrel roll, Jaxx being his next victim.

But now Jaxx was everyone’s target. He broke and veered sharply across his attackers’ flight path to increase his angle off the enemy starfighters’ noses. It exposed him to the enemy’s weapon fire for a brief second. He twisted on his side. Their shots went wide.

Jaxx angled toward the city, speeding into the black smoke plumes caused by Fox’s devastating strafe runs. The dozens of enemy fighters closed in, part of Jaxx’s plan.

He hit the plume at 2,200 miles per hour and immediately descended and leveled out just above the trees, coming around to sneak a few shots into the back of the pack. Targeting, he let his PC’s cut through an enemy’s tail, then heard a massive pop. A burning sensation spread through his spine like fast-growing roots. The pain catapulted him back into his physical body. No longer one with his Air Wing, he sat like a heavy piece of lead in his cockpit, his hands gripping the control stick, doing his best to keep his starfighter stable. It didn’t respond.

Already low to the ground, the terrain rushed up at him like a tsunami. Jaxx slid his hand down his seat’s side and punched the ejection button. The cockpit burst open and wind blasted him like an F3 tornado. He flung up and away from his craft, his parachute opening, his craft crumpling into the dense forest below. Fire rose into the air, a baroom sound a second later.

The ejection pushed him away from the coming impact, but that didn’t make him invisible.

He floated towards the canopy, watching a bandit round on him. One string of tracer fire and he’d attain dead man status in a flash. He closed his eyes, tightening his muscles, waiting for sharp zaps coming to rip him apart. He’d done okay. Sure, he’d disobeyed orders, but he hadn’t abandoned Rivkah and that counted for something in his book.

The air around him buzzed, then shuuushboooom rocked his seat up and down, as if he rode a jackhammer. A starfighter flew by him, leaving him to rock in its wake. Perhaps the Taiyonians were consigning him to the predators down below, like they had with Rivkah.

Smoke filled the air and his nostrils. The remains of both his and Rivkah’s crafts sent up pointless smoke signals. He sank somewhere between them. Tree branches snapped as his seat hit the top of the canopy. He was alive, but a sitting target. He had no idea where Rivkah was or how he was going to get down.

Jaxx woke and dripped with sweat.

Donny hovered over him. For once, he looked genuinely concerned. He handed Jaxx a dry towel.

“I don’t care what Slade wants,” said Donny. “We can’t go any longer if we want to keep your mind and body healthy. We’ll have to make this a day, Mr. Jaxx.”

Jaxx lay back on the couch, his pulse elevated. He thought about Rivkah, swinging from a branch on a world millions of miles away. He had to get back. He had to know what had happened next. Slade despised him. Fox hated him. But Rivkah was his friend and he wanted to know he’d done right by her.

For once, though, Jaxx agreed with Donny. He needed to be in better mental shape before he dove back into his past.

40

June 8th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

There’s got to be a way out of here.

Rivkah was in a hotel-like room. Bathroom, small fridge, and a bed. It smelled like a hotel. It was as if this place purchased their items from a Suite Inn, down the street.

Her room was locked from the outside, something that pissed her off to no end.

She paced the room, checking the door handle every so often. There would be no more experiments on her and she wanted out; out of her life, if need be.

She didn’t care if the next person who walked into the room had ten guns or none. She’d fight her way out of this underground facility. If it was Slade, so be it. The asshole used her for something she hadn’t quite figured yet. She was an officer and he was treating her like a piece of shit. She’d been accepted into the Secret Space Program long before he enlisted. Where was his respect? Yes, he had a longer military tenure, but no one knew space, a starfighter, and a cockpit like Rivkah. No one.

She stopped and put her hands on a short dresser and looked into a mirror attached to the wall. Astounding. Her skin, normal. She’d gotten used to a gargoyle looking out at her from the mirror, whenever she was stupid enough to glance at her own reflection.

She touched her skin for the hundredth time. Every time, she had to remind herself she wasn’t imagining it. They healed her. But for what? To kill her? It sounded ridiculous. Regardless, her face healed. And if she escaped this plan—no, when she escaped this facility—people wouldn’t stare at her when she walked down the sidewalk on a city street. A new life, a different life, a going-outside life, a talking-to-other-people life. Maybe there was a reason to live, after all.

Her door clicked and opened.

Captain Richard Fox entered, two guards behind him. “You’re coming with me. You’re our new expert pilot. No one gives two shits or cares about your being here. You’re to do as you’re told. Understand?”

“I should have known you were involved. You son of a bitch.”

She took a swing at him. He caught it without a flinch, but didn’t realize that’s what she hoped. She brought her other hand up and grabbed the hand Fox used to catch her punch and yanked it downward, pulling him to the ground. In the same movement, she flipped over him and kicked both guards, knocking them to the floor. She landed on top of Fox’s back.

The “Ooomph!” from Fox made her grin. She punched him in the back of the head for good measure. He flopped unconscious.

Both guards scrambled to rise but Rivkah lurched forward, catching both of their throats in her hands and pinned them to the ground. “You get up, you die.”

She unstrapped a guard’s rifle and raced down the hall. Then she felt him. Someone familiar. She stopped, her body pulling her down another hall like a magnet to its opposite attraction. She ran next to the wall, pulled, seduced by some unknown force. She crept to a door, slowly turned the knob, and peeked in.

She gasped.

There, lying on a couch, was Kaden Jaxx. His eyes closed.

Another man with glasses sat in a chair by his side.

Jaxx spoke in a monotone voice.

Did they experiment on Jaxx as well?

She clenched her jaw. Screw Jaxx. He deserves it.

Her intuition ticked up. She was on full alert. Something bad was coming her way.

In a flash, she ducked as a bullet whizzed by and lodged in the wall, just inches from her head. She turned, laying one bullet in a guard’s forehead, then two more in another guard’s chest.

More guards rounded the hall.

She had no way out, so she pushed her way into the room.

The man next to Jaxx stood, hands up, eyes wide. “Don’t shoot.”

41

June 8th ~ Portland, Oregon

Drew knew he should switch up his routine. Stop going to the same bagel shop. Leave Portland. But he liked his routine. It grounded him. Also, he kinda-sorta-maybe-a-whole-lot liked the woman who’d been kind to him that first day, when he was starving hungry. Sure, she had a boyfriend, but these things change. Her name was Anyara and she was studying the subtle energies at the Portland School for Chakric Arts.

“Delicious?” asked Anyara.

Drew swallowed, thoughts brewing. He hit the royal bucket during his interview with Slade and Connor. But worse. He endangered his mom. He took another bite of her creation, stone-ground rye bread, with a touch of honey.

“It’s absolutely delicious, right?” she repeated.

Drew rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda.” He took another bite.

“Only kinda?”

“Sorry, Anyara. It’s fabulous. Melt-in-your-mouth delicious. It’s just that...” He trailed off. Drew’s biggest worry wasn’t if he was being followed, tracked, or if Slade would send a team to end his life.

No.

He missed his usual weekly visit with her. He thought that asking her the same questions over and over would get old and tiresome. It didn’t. And now he sent her his phone. Bad move? Good move? He couldn’t help but wonder. Plus, she had Alzheimer’s. Statistically she was in one of the youngest afflicted age groups. What would she do with it other than place it somewhere and then forget? He could punch himself.

Plus, even if she didn’t know it, she needed him. He kept her ticking. He kept her mind active.

Or, perhaps, it was that he needed her. She was all he had. She was all that was familiar to him.

He needed to talk with her now.

Drew swallowed his last bite.

“You want to take some of last night’s remains?” She smiled. “For the pigeons?”

Drew lowered his head, embarrassed to ask for what he really wanted. “Yeah. Can I have some of your brioche?”

She smiled and pulled a paper bag from under the counter. “One loaf, or two?”

It was their little joke. He had only the money he made from juggling and he gave most of that to her in tips, so he never bought a whole loaf.

He gave her a wink, though he hadn’t winked in years.

“Be careful out there,” she said.

“I’m always careful. I only juggle in the daytime and only to prime numbers.”

Anyara shook her head. He was convinced she didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, but it made him feel good when she smiled, so he tried to make her smile whenever she broke away from work, to check in on him.

He walked around the corner of a building and down a sidewalk. He had ditched his burner phone right after his disastrous interview, so that Slade and his GSA heavies couldn’t track him. Nothing to do but head off to his corner in the park, juggle up some cash, and buy a new burner.

Half an hour later, he talked to one of the nicely frosted blue-haired ladies who held down the front desk at his mom’s place of residence.

“Tanner Springs Assisted Living Center. How can I help you?”

An image of his mom’s pink Tanner Springs sweatshirt popped into his head. He asked for Laura.

“Just a moment, sir.”

Drew sat on the sidewalk, gas fumes pummeling him.

“Hello?”

Drew coughed. “Hi Mom.”

“Well, aren’t you a stranger. Drew?”

“Yes, it’s me,” he replied, grinning. She knew who he was. It had been years since she remembered his voice.

“Where have you been, young man?” There was a tone. Not anger. She never got angry. No, irritation perhaps. Or frustration.

“I’m in Portland, Mom.”

“Is Sir with you?”

“N...no.” His voice broke, holding back a tear. It was strange. Why would he be so emotional? He had just seen his mom not so long ago, like he always did. And for her to mention his dad, well, who cared? So why all of a sudden did he care? “Dad’s not here.”

“Are you okay? You sound sad.”

“Mom, I have something to tell you. I—”

“Is it about this business in space?”

He fumbled with the phone. “What? How do you know about that?”

“I’m watching the news right now.”

Why did she sound so different? So aware? Something didn’t compute.

“Did you see me on the TV, Mom?”

“Yes.”

“Did you get my package?”

There was a brief pause, her voice low, almost inaudible. “Do not come here.”

“Excuse me?”

She brightened, bouncing back to her usual boppy tone as if she’d never mutter a warning. “Why would I see you on TV?”

He frowned. “You mentioned you were watching the news.”

“Who is this?”

“This is Drew.”

“My son?”

He rubbed his eye. Just a glitch in the code. Something repeating, from eons ago, when she was sane and sharp and full of sass. “Yes, Mom. It’s me.”

“This place is crawling with government operatives.”

Drew jerked back. “Are you okay, Mom?” She must be repeating words she heard on TV.

Her voice low, urgent, fast. Also muffled. Drew had the distinct impression that she had her hand over the mouthpiece, so no one could hear her. “Your dad isn’t a good guy. He never was. I’m sorry I left you in the dark, but it was necessary. It was for my survival, but I did this mostly for you to have as normal a life as possible. To keep you safe.”

“Mom, are you watching a movie?”

“Drew, is that you?” Back to her normal, space-cadet tone.

“Yes, Mom. Are you watching a movie?”

“No, the news is on. Did you see the news? They are showing a guy named Drew Avera on the news. That’s the same name as my son. It’s a re-run. This Drew person is speaking with Colonel Slade Roberson with the Global Safety Administration. Slade is acting nice, but he’s not. Can you believe the Drew Avera on the television has the same name as my son?” She sounded shocked, but there was a theatricality about it.

If he didn’t know better, his mom did a damned fine job of carrying on two conversations at once. One was with him; calm, informative, sharp; and the other was for the benefit for the people in the home. What did she say? The place was “swarming with operatives?” Could they stoop that low? To spy on his demented mother?

“Did you know they have found structures on Callisto?” she said. “That’s a moon orbiting Jupiter. They also say that they’ve had this set up for about fifteen years and have galactic ships in place all over the country to take politicians and their families off-world. Did you know that, Drew?”

“Uh...well...no.” Where was she getting this? What did she mean? The puzzle pieces drew closer together. That would make sense of the equipment he saw underground in Texas. How the hell did she get intel like that? “Are you—”

“Be careful, Drew. You’re involved with higher than high level officials and a black-ops military with more sophistication and advanced technology than you could dream.”

“Mom, are—”

“Is this Drew, my son? How old am I?”

Drew wiped his brow with his forearm. He perspired, something he’d done quite a lot lately. “Can you get an attendant on the phone?”

“I’m in no need of an attendant. Thank you, Drew.” She lowered her voice again. So low he almost couldn’t hear her. “Not on the phone, you hear me? Not on the phone. In person. Find a way to get here, without anyone knowing you’re visiting. Have a wonderful day, okay?” She hung up.

He frantically dialed again. The phone blared a busy signal. He re-dialed. Busy.

He phoned WNN Chicago.

“Hello?”

“Hobbs? Get me a plane ticket to Charlotte and send it to my masked email address. I’ll print it off at the library.”

“Drew, that’s not in our contract. We don’t do those things, unless it’s an emergency.”

“This is an emergency.”

“What is it?”

He didn’t want to tell Hobbs his suspicions. If he blurted out the fact that he didn’t think his mother had Alzheimer’s, he might put her in even more danger. It was incredible, what she’d just said. He had to find out how she knew what she knew. He had to get to her.

“Drew, listen...”

Drew stood and paced. “No, you listen. I just made you a God damn fortune, not that you needed it, but I put WNN more on the map. You owe me. Get me a ticket or I’ll scream to hell and high water that Hobbs Howell was not going to air this story because you thought that people were too stupid to handle it.”

“I never said such a thing.”

He didn’t, or at least not in front of Drew. Didn’t matter. Drew gambled with the truth. “I have you on a phone recording. I record everything.”

“I never said...” Hobbs hesitated.

Drew figured Hobbs couldn’t recall when or where, but probably realized that at some point he spoke those words.

Hobbs sighed. “I’ll get on that. Expect a ticket within an hour. How are you going to get to the airport?”

“You’re going to get me a taxi. Have him pick me up at the Belmont Library in Southeast Portland.”

“That’s it?” questioned Hobbs.

“That’s it.”

42

June 8th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

Donny seemed as surprised as Jaxx to see Rivkah, when she burst through the door, waving a rifle. The scene that played out was as depressing as predictable. Rivkah fought like a dervish, while the guards piled on and on and on until they had her pinned and subdued. They removed her and no one—not Donny, not Slade, not the guards who escorted Jaxx to and from his bunk—would tell him anything about her whereabouts or condition. He hated them all.

Jaxx attampted to hypnotize himself in his room, but it never worked. Slade had said something about there being tech buried in the walls of Donny’s office, but that was back when he lied about implanted memories. The reason he couldn’t hypnotize himself was auto-suggestion. He’d been trained, Pavlov-style, to respond to Donny’s voice. He knew that. Still, a bummer. He needed Donny in order to travel back through his own damned memories. He needed to do something about that. Maybe if he laid down, imagined he was in Donny’s office, and regulated his breathing, perhaps he could trick himself into an altered state. He’d heard that dweeb count him down enough times; he could probably conjure up his voice, so it felt like he’d take him in…

All it took was his head hitting the pillow. He didn’t need to hear Donny counting him down.

* * *

Jaxx landed on the forest canopy’s floor with a thud, a portion of his parachute slipping through the branches and landing on top of him. He pushed the parachute away. Ripped to shreds. He unstrapped, pressed the rescue beacon on his belt, and sent out a signal to Star Cruiser Liberty in hopes they’d send a rescue mission.

A couple of cuts in his jumpsuit pants had reached deep enough to scratch a few bloody lacerations on his leg, but minor. His lower back a bit sore, nothing he couldn’t deal with.

He climbed out of his ejection seat and trudged forward, away from his starfighter’s wreckage a few klicks behind him and toward Rivkah’s burning wreckage. Maybe she was alive somewhere near her downed craft.

The forest was one big shadow under the canopy of trees. The air was humid. A mix of jasmine and soil tickled his senses.

A bush swished back and forth next to him and something scurried off deeper in the brush.

He was on a planet he’d never visited. Hell, he’d never been on any planet but Earth. He unholstered his Interstellar Plasma Gun, IPG-14, from his belt, a weapon he’d never used before. A laser sight attached.

He held his gun out and cautiously moved around a spiked tree. He touched the spike then pulled his hand away when an insect, a scorpion on pumped-up hyper-steroids, jumped from behind the spike and hissed. “Holy Shit.” Jaxx reeled back and reflexively pulled the trigger.

The bug splattered, and a gooey mess was left in a charred divot in the tree’s bark. A thin line of smoke twirled upward.

He stood, his breath shallow and hard. “Calm down, Jaxx.” His heart beat in his throat. “Relax.”

If a bug could scare him that easily, Rivkah might get a hole in her chest if she came out from behind a tree and startled him. He pushed the thought away, squeezing his free hand into a fist, pushing his nerves as deep down as possible.

He stepped over a rock and brushed aside a low hanging branch full of reddish-orange fruit. He inched his way silently across the forest, the heat getting to him. Spots of perspiration spread across his jumpsuit. He needed water but the Taiyonians were probably looking for him and in force. If they had a trackers, he didn’t have much time to find Rivkah, locate a hiding place, and wait for a rescue team; if one was on its way.

“Just keep trekking,” he whispered.

Pushing aside a palm leaf and ducking a thick tree limb, he took a long stride. His foot fell into thick sludge. A rabid cry pierced the forest and mud splashed across Jaxx’s torso like someone threw a can of paint with no lid at him.

He back peddled, his forearm coming up and covering his face.

A trumpet sound mixed with a low, whining drone—not unlike bagpipes—erupted in front of him and a tentacle lashed out. It connected with his shoulder.

Jaxx flung his arm back, losing his weapon. It bounce across the ground as he tumbled and landed on his back.

The large tentacle loomed and whipped away. The earth lifted in front of Jaxx and an animal, with a bulky frame and a tentacled nose, emerged from the slime. Its eyes were almond-shaped and blue, its body like a hippopotamus. It leaped forward, landing in front of Jaxx.

Jaxx cautiously moved, his palms out. The universal symbol for slow it down, buddy. “Whoa, back up. I don’t mean any harm.”

Its tentacle extended and gave Jaxx two gentle pats on his head, then sidestepped around him. Its hairless, hippo-like torso grazed his shoulder as it walked by and over a small hill.

“What in the world...?” Jaxx wiped himself off and looked in all directions. If the Taiyonians hadn’t known his exact location a minute ago, they did now.

He picked up his IPG pistol and hurried to a boulder at the base of a hill. He crouched behind, watching and listening for movement; any indication that the enemy neared.

Nothing.

Not even an alien bird whistling.

The battle, the crash, and the strafing of the city might have driven the majority of the animals into hiding.

Jaxx raced up the hill, staying low.

At the top, he spotted smoke spiraling from a line of burning, fallen trees. Rivkah’s crash. He could see the the top of a vast forest from here and turned and faced his crash site, then dove to the ground. A craft hovered over his site. Black smoke billowed. A beam blasted from the craft’s belly, extinguishing the fire beneath. It spun, its nose in Jaxx’s direction.

Jaxx crawled behind a tree, branches full of needles and leaves. Strange combination. He rested his back against it. The craft purred overhead and slowed into a hover.

He eyed the sky through the breaks in the branches. The craft hummed a hundred feet above. It ascended higher and sped toward Rivkah’s crash. Jaxx stood. He eyed the craft as it reached Rivkah’s crash site and extinguished the expanding fire.

The craft moved south and lingered over the canopy two klicks away. Did Rivkah escape to that area? Shit. Maybe.

Jaxx hiked hard and fast. Down the hill. Over rotten wood. Around mushrooms taller than him that were covered in fluorescent red and green colors. He rushed by flora and fauna that would make his university colleagues mad with jealousy. And he’d barely gave any of it a second glance. At this moment, only Rivkah mattered. And he gasped when he saw her. He ducked low behind a line of tall shrubs that resembled rhododendrons in bloom and surveyed the area. He didn’t want to crash into her hideout and give her away, if she hadn’t yet been found.

She positioned herself under a small, low outcropping. Trees and fern-like plants surrounded her. They concealed her well. He crept toward her, lifting one foot over a golden-hued shrub and the other leg over a gooey, green puddle. No telling what might fight and what might flee.

Rivkah clutched her leg just below a tourniquet she made. She winced as if pain consumed her.

He took another step, then abruptly stopped. Movement on the outcropping above her. He lifted his IPG and went to one knee. His stomach hardened. He slipped his finger through the trigger guard. “Don’t move,” he yelled.

A figure stood on the ledge directly over her. A man with long black hair. Asian in appearance, black pants and a blue coat that flared into a cape. He jumped from the outcropping and onto the forest floor. A Roman scutum-style shield materialized in his hand.

Rivkah let go of her leg, cringing in agony. She moaned and toppled to her side and out of Jaxx’s line of sight. The man took a step toward her. Jaxx pulled the trigger.

The guy crouched and held the shield out. Blue electricity spun at the shield’s center, absorbing the shot. A whirr sounded and the electricity vanished. The man peered around his shield. He dipped his head at Jaxx as if in respect.

Odd.

Jaxx lowered his weapon. The guy stood straighter and the shield disappeared. He slapped his fist in the palm of his other hand and held it at his heart. He gave a short bow, then dashed off and through thick foliage and out of view.

Jaxx rushed Rivkah. She squeezed her eyes shut and groaned in pain. Opening her eyes, she lurched back. “Jaxx?” She reached for him. He’d never see her so vulnerable, so pale, so...scared. She was losing blood. They needed to get their butts off this planet, and now. Or she wouldn’t make it.

He slid in next to her. “Rivkah?”

Her eyes fluttered closed. He gently slapped her cheek to keep her awake. Her eyes opened. Vacant. He touched her forehead. She burned like a stove. He placed his index and middle finger on her neck and to the side of her windpipe, checking her carotid artery. Her pulse was slow, barely noticeable.

“Rivkah, can you hear me?”

She nodded.

“Stay awake. A rescue team is on its way.” He didn’t know if there was any truth to his words, but wanted to keep her hopes alive. “Stay with me. They’ll be here soon.”

“They...won’t.” Her voice was as weak as her pulse.

He checked her leg. Below the tourniquet was a large gash. Blood streamed, pooling on the ground. The tourniquet was too loose and she was bleeding out.

Jaxx reached down her leg, untying the tourniquet. He slipped it off and rolled it tighter, then retied it around her leg, making sure it tightly squeezed. The blood now dripped. He didn’t fix it, but the slower the bleed the better.

He looked around for something that would cauterize the wound. Maybe he could hold up a broken branch and shoot the upper portion with his IPG. That would get the branch scorching hot or disintegrate the targeted portion of the branch altogether. Didn’t matter. He had to give it a try.

He scanned the leaves and branches, the shrubs and grasses, for something that would burn hot enough to staunch the bleeding. He caught sight of a silver, oval pouch lying on the ground just out of reach. The man he attempted to kill must have dropped it. Hopefully, not on purpose. If so, it was probably dangerous. A bomb, perhaps. Or could be a chemical device. Heck, it could be a phone for all he knew. But, they were running out of options and his curiosity was piqued.

He approached the pouch, IPG in hand. He poked it with his gun.

The pouch shot up a few feet. Jaxx dove for cover. He went into a ball and covered his head. No explosion. He lifted his gaze. The pouch sat upright. A neck extended from the body of the contraption, a cap atop the neck. The pouch popped into a flask?

He hopped to his feet and walked, almost cat-like, toward the thing. He lifted it carefully, turning the silvery flask over in his hand. His intuition said it was safe, though when had his intuition ever done him any favors? Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained. He twisted the cap open, closing one eye and looking inside.

Gold flecks stirred in a clear liquid. He repeated the same questions he had just moments before. Did the guy accidentally drop this? Did he leave it on purpose, thinking Rivkah and I would drink it and die shortly after?

He checked in again with his newest friend; intuition. Apparently, he had the go-ahead. He dipped his finger inside. He leaned his head back and opened his mouth and held his finger over his tongue. The warm liquid streamed down his index finger until it came to a head at his fingertip. A drop touched his tongue.

Water. He expected the flecks to taste, but they didn’t.

He blinked, waiting for the effects to take hold. If it was poison, then a little amount probably wouldn’t kill him. He’d simply vomit.

He straightened his shoulders, then his spine, feeling a rise of energy. He took a deep breath, or rather, his body breathed more life into on its own accord. He yawned, taking in more air.

He felt alive. Strong. Energized.

He wanted to run, just for the sake of running. He wanted to move around, do push-ups, sit-ups. He didn’t care as long as he exercised.

He stretched, taking in another breath.

“Rivkah, you gotta…”

She slumped to the side, eyes closed. Hardly breathing.

He sprang to her, flask in hand, dropping to his knees and feeling for her pulse. She was alive, though her pulse more faint. He was losing her.

He opened her mouth, pouring in a small amount of the liquid. It dribbled out, the water merely dampening her lips and skin.

He lightly slapped her cheeks to wake her up. “Stay with me, Rivkah. Stay with me.”

She took in a deep breath and held it for a few seconds.

Then exhaled.

He felt her pulse a second time. Almost undetectable. He filled a cap-full of the water and gave her more.

Her pulse lightened.

“Dammit. Don’t leave me, Rivkah.”

He gave her another swig and checked her pulse yet again.

Nothing changed.

He slumped and sat hard on his butt.

I’m killing her.

This had to be poison and if it wasn’t, then he had overdosed her.

“Ne, Mishusta.”

Jaxx let out a sharp breath. He dropped the flask, the contents spilling out until there was nothing left. He grabbed for his IPG and pointed it at a man hanging from the outcropping by his feet. The man flipped to the ground and bowed.

Jaxx kept the IPG steady on the man’s forehead. “What do you want?”

The man pointed to his chest. “Kiyo-zan.”

“Kiyo-zan? Is that your name?” Jaxx had taken Japanese in high school. It sounded Japanese-ish. Perhaps he had an accent? Maybe his people had migrated from Kyushu, the southern-most island of Japan? Their accents were thick as molasses; wonderful to listen to, but hard to comprehend. It was so long ago that if this guy spoke Tokyo-style Japanese, which Jaxx highly doubted, he still couldn’t figure out what the man was trying to say.

He trained the IPG on the man more intensely. “Please leave.”

The man lowered and reached for something inside his cape.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The man paused, then nodded. “Anashita no tame ni.” He slowly slid his hand out from inside his cape and put another flask on the ground. It stood upright and a neck popped out, exposing a cap over the flask’s mouth.

The man jabbed a finger at his chest. “Kiyo-zan.” He spread his arms out wide, motioning outward and at the entire forest. “Taiyo-zan.”

Jaxx shifted in his seated position. The guy’s name was obviously Kiyo-zan and they called the planet, Taiyo-zan.

Jaxx glanced at Rivkah. Her lips now a blueish pink, she trembled.

Another flask landed near Jaxx, startling him. He lifted his gaze. Kiyo-zan imitated drinking the flask by holding an imaginary flask in his hand, while simultaneously pointing at Rivkah with his other hand. “Shite kudazen.”

Jaxx snagged the bottle and untwisted the cap. He poured the water into Rivkah’s mouth, then let up.

Kiyo-zan shook his head, imitating drinking the flask but leaning his head all the way back more as if finishing the entire drink.

Even though Rivkah didn’t swallow, she by chance took some down her gullet. Maybe that’s what Kiyo-zan was getting at—the more, the better.

“Here goes. This guy better not be trying to kill her,” he said under his breath.

Jaxx emptied the flask into Rivkah’s mouth, the water dribbling down her chin and cheeks, drenching her jumpsuit collar.

Rivkah smacked her lips. Her eyelids twitched. Her skin tone morphed from “scary grey” to “healthy brown,” and her lips turned pink. He checked her leg but no change. It dribbled blood. He touched her neck, feeling for her pulse. Better, stronger.

Kiyo-zan made a click sound. Jaxx clutched his gun when brush moved and foot steps carried across the forest. Taiyonians came into view. Same outfit as Kiyo-zan, though a bow and arrow weapons strapped to their backs, glowing a hazy orange.

One woman held out a bowl and gestured to it, then placed her hand in it, pulling out a yellow cube. She put it in her mouth and chewed, rubbing her stomach. She smiled and placed the bowl in front of Kiyo-zan. She pushed it forward.

Jaxx shook his head. “Do you have anything for her wound?” He motioned to Rivkah’s leg. He didn’t know why they helped him, especially after his small starfighter squad just took out a quarter of their city, no doubt killing countless Taiyonians. Regardless of whether they were friendly or not, he held his IPG in front of him, making sure they could see it. Who knew, the Taiyonians might be massing in the hundreds on the ridge and outcropping above him, waiting for him to come out so they could seize their moment of glory.

A flash of light split the sky, followed by a boom. Everyone looked up, including Jaxx. A craft descended, smoke trailing from it. His belt vibrated, which meant the rescue team was well on their way.

That was fast.

He touched his belt, turning off the vibration revealer, and looked out across the forest. The Taiyonians were gone.

The ground shook. Jaxx held onto Rivkah, keeping her stable and secure. Cracking branches riddled the forest and an intense rumbling echoed against the ridge.

Then silence.

An Oospor Class-9 Dropship hovered ten yards away, broken branches littered the ground around it, the sun’s rays highlighting the ship through the newly created hole in the forest canopy.

There was the standard pffftcha of a ramp unlocking from the airtight craft, then steam curling around the opening. A large man in an armor suit stepped through, his boots clanking on the ramp at each step.

“I’m Special Agent Nick Cole. Do you need my assistance?” His voice was loud and digitized through the helmet's external speakers.

Jaxx shook his head. He had Rivkah in his arms, holding her like a husband carrying his bride.

A crack came from behind the craft. It could have been a shot, but it could have been the octo-hippo searching for lunch. Cole took no chances. In one leap, he was on top of his craft. He balanced like a tightrope walker on a tension wire and reached for his rifle, the IPR-9, magnetized to the back of his titanium suit.

He aimed and riddled the forest with plasma fire, each shot followed by a tracer. Trees snapped in half and brush caught fire until he created a circular inferno around his ship. The perfect, unassailable perimeter. No one could get in or out.

Jaxx stepped onto to the ramp, desperate to get Rivkah on-board, where she could get the medical attention she needed. The craft looked wider on the inside than the outside. A hospital bed in one corner. A pilot and a doctor rushed to him, helping him rest Rivkah on the bed.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” Jaxx said.

The doctor waived a medical wand over her. It lit up. Diagnosis and instructions shot out from its holographic display.

The doctor knelt next to her and felt her pulse. “The Med Stave suggests a foreign material is keeping her alive. I don’t understand the material type, other than it’s a mixture of a highly heated golden ash and concentrated spring water, abundant in mineral content. Some minerals I’ve never heard of. Sagitium? It also says she has less than an hour to live.”

Cole ran into the craft, the door hissing shut behind him.

“She’s lost 1781 milliliters of blood. We have to cauterize the wound and get more blood into her, STAT.”

Cole sat next to the pilot. “Not before we exit the exosphere. Strap in.”

“We don’t have time,” Jaxx yelled. “Help her now.”

They placed restraints around Rivkah’s wrists and ankles.

The pilot hurried to his chair, pressing buttons on the control panel. “We’ll be up in a few seconds. We can help her then.”

Rivkah moaned. “I’m...thirsty. Water.”

Jaxx stroked her forehead. “Soon. Very soon.”

“Get in your seat, Lieutenant. We’re getting this ship off the ground.” Cole thumbed at a seat behind him.

“I’ll be right back, Rivkah.” Jaxx raced to his chair and plopped down, buckling in.

The pilot pushed his visor down. “Heading to the stars, fellas.”

Out of the view screen, Jaxx saw the trees rush by in less than a second. His body sunk down with the ascension and they soon past the clouds, shook hot through the atmosphere and jetted through the exosphere into space.

And out in space, debris was everywhere. Starfighter debris.

Jaxx didn’t know if the terrible mess was mostly from the squadrons he splintered off from or if the thousands of bulky and singed pieces were from Taiyonian starfighters. From the expert way the Taiyonian’s flew, he guessed most of the debris belonged to his squad-mates.

Right now, though, space was at rest. Vacant. No fighting, at least not in this ship’s proximity.

“We have a problem,” said the doctor, rummaging through a silver supply box. “No blood. The med team didn’t replenish after our last search and rescue. It’s been mad up here.” He moved things around in the box, still searching. Unsuccessful, he threw his hands up.

“We have Jaxx,” Cole mentioned. “I’m signing him up.”

Jaxx unstrapped and stood. “I’ll volunteer. You need my blood?”

The doctor beckoned him over. “Yes.”

43

June 9th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

Drew had on a hoodie and a Parka, with a full, face-covering faux-fur hood. He didn’t pull the hood up because that would draw attention. Instead, he buried his face as deep as he could and hoped that the bulk of the hoodie made him look tubby.

His mother was right. Her compound crawled with Secret Service types. Did those guys not know how to blend in? Not just the suits and the shiny shoes, but the squiggly ear-pieces.

Drew and Laura didn’t go through their usual “who are you? do you know my son?” routine. Instead, Drew introduced himself to the nice people at the front desk as a her third-cousin, twice removed, come to tell her that she’d come into some money. Money always threw people off the scent. It had the advantage of being both exciting and private. No one would interrupt them.

They made their way to the far side of the garden and admired the flowers, making mindless chit chat. Drew was careful not to say anything that his “muddled” mother might not understand and she, who perhaps had done this act for some time, didn’t let on she knew who she was or what she’d told him over the phone.

Until they sat down.

“You sent me your phone?” Laura was more Laura than she’d been for nearly fifteen years.

Drew had trouble keeping it together. “I did.”

“Good lad. I taught you well. The pictures you took were outstanding, but it was what wasn’t in the pictures that interested me.”

Drew gawped. There was nothing else he could do.

“I can’t tell you what I did or when, because I’ve signed the Official Secrets Act, but I have skills.” She smiled.

Drew’s heart broke a million times over. His mother had been inside the shuffling, confused woman, all these years.

“I tracked this GSA organization and hacked their files.”

Drew’s eyebrows took it to new heights, his mouth to all-time lows.

“Close your mouth, there’s a train coming.”

He laughed. It was something she used to say when he was a kid.

“They aren’t the sharpest knives in the drawer, these men you are investigating. In fact, I’d go so far as to say, they’re idiots.”

Drew nodded. Couldn’t argue with that.

“They kept a log.” Laura smiled. “Do you need to take notes or do you still have a photographic memory?”

Drew tapped the side of his head. “Still got it.”

“The log recorded messages between GSA and Underfoot Black. The messages were short and confusing. The log numbers were in order, but the numbers weren’t sequential. Someone has doctored the log.”

Drew nodded. He was firing on all cylinders. His mother was brilliant. She was about to blow the whole thing open.

Laura closed her eyes and recited the list:

“Log 114: SSP doesn’t know anything yet. Keep it under wraps.

Log 181: SSP probed TECS IV, then left. We feel they are unaware.

Log 192: A few retired SSP agents work for us. Again, keep it under the radar.

Log 213: SSP is privy to our exploration.

Log 477: TECS IV has spotted an anomaly. Disregard. The anomaly is uninhabitable.

Log 599: TECS IV found what our scientists are calling the Golden Egg.

Log 611: SSP is investigating TECS IV and GSA. They have also found the Golden Egg.

Log 665: SSP will not cooperate with us.

Log 668: SSP’s recent communications say their scientists do not see global warming a deadly threat. Our scientists disagree.

Log 704: Stay underground.

Log 832: SSP knows we have Kaden Jaxx and demand him back.

Log 914: SSP and TECS IV has gone dark. No communication with SSP and TECS IV is offline.

Log 1043: SSP and GSA to cooperate.

Log 1096: Avera investigating GSA. Eliminate.”

Drew gasped. That was the kill order he was afraid of.

“What did you think when you went fishing in this pool? Of course, they want you gone.” She closed her eyes and continued:

“Log 1152: We move launch date up from June 11th to June 12th,. Launch location: Sandy Island, Caribbean, just east of Grenada.

Log 1163: Government evacuation procedures in place. Everyone is ready.”

“I don’t...” Drew wanted his bong in the worst way possible. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“There’s more, but we don’t have time. No one here has seen me string more than five words together at one time in ten years. You have to leave and you have to stay safe.” Laura squeezed her son’s hand, got up and left without looking back.

Drew didn’t need to open his palm. He knew what she had given him. It was a thumb drive. Laura Avera knew what a thumb drive was? Hell really was going to freeze over. He pulled his coat up around his ears and smiled his way past eight G-men.

44

June 9th ~ Underfoot Black, Grenada

“In five seconds, you’ll be coming back to the present,” said Donny. “One, notice how comfortable and relaxed you are. Two, you’re becoming more aware of my voice. Three, you are about to wake up as if you were in a deep, healthy sleep. Four, your eyes are becoming lighter. Five, you’re here, now. Your eyes are opening.”

Jaxx opened his eyes, blinking several times. He gazed at the ceiling, bringing himself from the Oospor Class-9 Dropship to the room. Donny had pulled him out of a hypnotherapy session where he recalled the same memories he had in his private session last night. Donny also stopped when Jaxx volunteered to give Rivkah his blood. But Jaxx needed more. He wanted the rest of his memories. He wanted every last drop.

“Take me back under.”

Donny glanced at his watch, then shook his head. “We’ve got what Slade wants.” He tilted his head to the side. “Why do you want to go back under?”

“I have to know.”

“Know what?”

“Why they say I defected.”

Donny huffed. “Alright, close your eyes.”

Jaxx closed his eyes.

A gun went off outside the room, then another.

Jaxx sat in a start. Did that come from inside the facility or was it the beginning of his trance?

The door burst open. Rivkah. She pointed a rifle at Jaxx. She returned. The second time in so many days. You couldn’t keep her locked up if she was cemented into the walls.

Donny pushed back into his chair, hands up.

She motioned with her rifle to the door. “Get up, Jaxx.”

“All right.” Jaxx walked to the door, hands raised, his mind racing. In a way, he was happy to see her again. He felt he knew her better, at least a little. That happiness was tempered somewhat by the rifle.

Donny eyed over Rivkah’s shoulder.

Rivkah caught the look and twisted on her heels. A guard pushed his way in. Rivkah went for him. His gun went off. Donny took it between the eyes, killing him before he hit the floor.

Rivkah swiped the guards’ leg. He tossed to his back. She slammed her boot on his chest and aimed her rifle at the guy’s head.

“No,” yelled Jaxx. He leaped for her arm, grabbing her trigger hand by the wrist.

She dropped to her knees. The rifled slipped from her fingers. She screamed and wrenced her arm out of Jaxx’s grasp. She covered her ears and touched her head to the floor. “What the hell did you do that for?”

“Do what?”

“Zap me, you asshole. You didn’t feel it? When you grabbed me?”

He felt nothing of the sort.

Guards entered the corridor, their boots clomping hard on the tile. Rivkah slammed the door with a swift kick. More than anything, Jaxx wanted to talk to Rivkah. But they were trapped. The guards, Slade, Fox, everyone, needed to leave him alone, give him time to speak with his old friend. But they wouldn’t. He squeezed his fingers into fists and grind his teeth. His mind focused, his heart pumped full of adrenaline, emotion, life—everything he had. And, calm as could be, he pushed the energy outward. It was like being back in a starfighter.

The door broke off its hinges, flinging at the approaching guards. A few went to dodge. Too fast, the door slammed into them. Like dominoes, they fell hard.

Rivkah pushed to her usual defensive crouch and grabbed her weapon. She peeked around the doorway and glanced at one of the downed guards. Before Jaxx could react, she pounded the butt of her rifle against his temple, knocking him out cold. She turned and popped two shots through the doorway, hitting a guard square in the chest.

Jaxx lurched for her, willing her to stop the bloodshed, but was met with the butt of her rifle against his chest, keeping him at a distance.

She eyed Jaxx like a madwoman. “Don’t touch me. Never touch me. But, stay as close to me as possible, or I’ll lodge a bullet in the back of your head.” She rounded him and pressed the rifle’s muzzle against the back of his head. “Move.”

Jaxx had never seen anyone move so fast, so confident. Her eyes, on the other hand, told of a different story. She looked tired, beat.

She pushed him forward with the rifle. “I said move, Jaxx.”

He put his hands up. “Where do you want me to go?”

She guided Jaxx out of the room with another push of her rifle. Guards lined the hall, but Slade and Fox were missing.

“You come after me, this guy gets one in through the chest. Understand?” She lowered the rifle to his mid back, prodding him forward. “If you guards don’t back up, I won’t give another warning.”

None of them moved, then one touched his ear as if he received a communication. He nodded, then waived the men back. Rivkah and Jaxx had a clear path.

Rivkah growled. “What did you do to me?”

Jaxx looked over his shoulder. “I…didn’t do anything.”

But he knew as soon as she asked. It was the blood, the blood he gave her in the ship to keep her alive. It was his blood.

The moment he thought it, Rivkah picked up on it. “You did this to me? You personally? It came from you? What kind of sick freak are you?”

Jaxx didn’t know how to answer. He walked down the hall, the rifle against his back.

“Why do I have these powers?” she continued. “When I’m near you, they’re alive in me. They aren’t when I’m not around you. What the hell did you do to me, Jaxx?” She breathed heavily, almost going off the rails.

No guards were in sight. Maybe he was more important to Slade than he thought. “Don’t pull that trigger, Rivkah.”

He felt her warm breath when she leaned closer, speaking low. “I won’t pull the trigger if you show me the way out, Jaxx. Seems like I’m pretty safe with you, huh? Ain’t no one in this facility going to ruin your life and let you burn your body to a damn cinder.”

Jaxx said nothing.

“Answer me. Where’s the exit?”

“I don’t know.” He didn’t, but at the same time, he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to continue his life’s passion, translating glyph after glyph, uncovering ancient mysteries. In truth, he wanted to figure out everything he could about Callisto. He wanted to go to Callisto, to touch everything on the satellite images.

Rivkah was knocking down that reality with a wrecking ball.

“You don’t want to leave,” she stated.

Jaxx had some experience with this power…as a pilot, with Donny’s pen, and only minutes ago with the door to Donny’s office. He had control of it. She didn’t. Anger fueled her. Intuitively, Jaxx knew that she was dangerous, not only to others, but to herself.

“You know him.”

“Who?” asked Jaxx.

“You’ll see.”

Rivkah opened a door and shoved Jaxx into a room.

Jon Shaughnessy stood dumbfounded in his boxers, toothbrush in hand, wide eyed, his TV on.

Jaxx felt her in his mind like a rat trying to walk through a maze. He didn’t like it.

Rivkah abruptly stepped back like she’d been pushed. “Jaxx, you know something about him.” She gasped. “He’s your escape route. He has something…hidden. Get it from him.”

“No.”

Shaughnessy backed away and made his way into his bathroom.

Rivkah redirected her gun. “Stay put, pudgy.” She flipped her gun over her shoulder, putting a slug through another guard, then brought the gun out in front of her, giving Shaughnessy a grin. “Yeah, little-man, I am a crack shot. There’s no getting out of this room alive without my say-so.”

Jaxx froze, rooted to the spot. “I’m sorry, Jon. I didn’t bring her here. I don’t know what she thinks I know.”

“Jon, is it?” Rivkah asked.

Shaughnessy nodded slowly, keeping his eyes deadpanned on her, his lips slightly moving, but nothing come out.

“Show me,” Rivkah demanded.

Shaughnessy bit his lip. “Show you what?”

“Show me what you’re hiding, then show me a way out of here. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t screw with me.”

He reached under his bed, pulling out a laptop case, laptop inside.

She gestured to Jaxx. “Give it to my boy right here.”

Shaughnessy handed it to him.

It was the laptop he stashed under his desk in the RIOUT room. What was it doing in Shaughnessy’s quarters?

“For a genius, Jaxx, you’re pretty slow. The laptop was their insurance if things went south. Now it’s ours.” She turned back to Shaughnessy. “Now, show me your other secret.”

Shaughnessy shrugged.

Rivkah pulled the rifle up, so the sites were level with her eye. “I won’t ask twice. Genius here has infected me with the ability to read thoughts. Yours, my friend, are pretty interesting.”

Shaughnessy pounded his wall three times. It protruded outward, exposing an elevator.

“Thank you.” Rivkah guided Jaxx through the opening and onto the elevator. The wall closed shut in front of them and the elevator started its ascent.

45

June 9th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

As soon as he was checked into his motel, Drew pulled out the thumb drive his mother gave him and plugged it into the laptop he’d purchased in the parking lot outside a 7-11. Amazing what people would do for a little cash. He’d had to tap one of his tin-foil buddies for a loan, but he promised he was good for it. Better yet, he promised to clue them in on the exposé of a lifetime, if they’d just loan him a few Franklins, some Hamiltons, and some Grants.

He powered up and went directly to the files on the drive.

Operation Underfoot.

TOP SECRET SPECIAL HANDLING NOFORM with Global Safety Administration.

Idiots. Why did anyone ever label anything “top secret?” You’d think they’d have learned by now.

He spent the next hour, reading and re-reading the documents his mother had secured for him. It was all official. Very succinctly outlined. Very matter of fact, but it boiled down to a simple hypothesis. Slade believed the oceans were rising, the planet was going to be uninhabitable, and he needed to evacuate the Government, the Administration, and other key players.

No citizens.

Not in round one, round two, or any evacuation round thereafter.

Slade didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing because he planned to leave the majority of the human race behind. He had a bunch of arguments, about the sanctity of the Constitution and the need for good government and their chances of survival, but he’d found a “tidally-locked moon” and planned to go there.

Within days.

Drew didn’t have much time.

46

June 9th ~ St. George’s, Grenada

The elevator opened and they stared at a dark alleyway. It had been a while since Jaxx had been outside. He was glad it was dark.

He gripped the laptop as Rivkah shoved him forward by the barrel of her rifle.

Out of the elevator and into the warm heat of the night, Rivkah threw the rifle back into the elevator. A few seconds later, the elevator dinged and closed. A cement wall moved in front of it and hid the doors.

She was street-smart and could handle herself. That was a brilliant move. Walking around with a large weapon was a dead giveaway that something bad had happened, was currently happening, or was about to happen. She probably wanted as few eyes on her as possible.

“Move, Jaxx.”

Jaxx faced Rivkah. “Look, I’ll hand you the laptop and you can get going. I need to get back down there.” He attempted to step around her.

She blocked him. “Not a chance. You’re my ticket to safety and you’re going to…” She tilted her head, staring into Jaxx’s eyes. “I keep hearing your thoughts.” She put her hands in a fist. “No, I feel your thoughts. What are you feeling now?” She gave a humorless grin. “Right. You have no freaking clue what’s going to happen next. But you want to know more. You can’t help yourself. You want on this project because you think the entire Universe will reveal itself at your doorstep. The glyphs won’t decode themselves, and you’re the one who can.” She prodded him in the chest. Hard. It hurt. “You don’t know a lot, do you, Jaxx? There are gaps. Gaps in that little cranium of yours.” Her finger moved up to his forehead. She kept jabbing.

“There are gaps, you’re right. I’ve been trying to fill them, but Donny has been keeping me on a tight leash.”

“Who the hell ever had you on a leash?”

Jaxx shrugged. She knew a version of him he was only just getting to know.

Rivkah gasped. “Holy mother of all dogs. You really don’t know.” She fought to catch her breath. “If that isn’t the biggest, most cowardly way out I have ever heard of.” She got up in his face. “I don’t knoooooooooooow.” It was a whiny voice, meant to insult.

It did.

“Fine. Here’s what happened. You were supposed to have my back. But you left me for dead.” She paused.

“Sorry,” said Jaxx.

“It gets worse. You left me in a burning starfighter. Alone. To die. Only I didn’t die, did I? I survived. Crisped to the core.”

Jaxx scratched his temple. “I saved you. I risked my life to save you. I donated my blood to revive you. You’re not remembering things correctly.” He wanted to say he thought she was nuts, but that wouldn’t get him anywhere.

She spat on his foot. “That was the first time Jaxx. Yeah, you saved me.” She threw her hands in the air. “Whoopty-doo. The second time. When you up and defected. I went after you. You shot me down.”

He had no idea what she was talking about. She snagged the laptop bag out of his hand, not waiting for a reply. She bounced it a couple of times, gauging the weight. “Heavier than I imagined. Must be industrial strength.” She scrounged through the bag, ripping the inside Velcro compartments open. “What’s this?” She pulled out a fist full of US dollars, mostly twenties. “That’s not enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“To fly off Grenada.”

“I’m not going.”

She pulled out several credit cards. After reading the name inscribed on them, she gave Jaxx a wicked smile. “You’re coming with me.” She held up the credit cards. “Jon Shaughnessy’s name. You could pull off being a man, couldn’t you, Jaxx? If you really put your mind to it?” She pointed over his shoulder. “Now go, before I drag you to the airport.”

“No.” He folded his arms. He wasn’t moving. If she touched him, things would go bat shit crazy like they did last time, causing an uproar, waking up an entire city block. He knew it and because he knew it, she knew it.

The woosh of a craft overhead had them both crouching in seconds. The ground rumbled as the ship lowered.

An Oospor Class-9 Dropship hovered in front of the alleyway, a man in armor stepping down the short ramp. “Orders keep changing,” boomed the guy’s voice. “First, Slade, and then grab this pot-head piece of shit, and then to Jax. I like this order.”

“Cole,” said Jaxx.

“What the hell are you doing here, Agent?” Rivkah stepped up to him. The woman had no fear.

Cole went for his IP-9, demagnetizing it from his titanium armor and yanked it over his shoulder. He aimed it at Rivkah. “I’m here for Jaxx, not for you, Rivkah.”

Jaxx stepped forward, shielding Rivkah. “What’s this about?”

“I’m taking you back to the fleet, Jaxx. Though, I’d rather see your eyes rolled up in the back of your head and your shitty, little coward’s body laid out in a casket.”

On each side of the alleyway stood two-story buildings. Behind them, at the base of a steep Fort George hill, was a concrete wall. Cole was in front of them. They had nowhere to go.

Rivkah sized Cole up. “You should go back to the tin-shed you call Star Warden.”

Jaxx tried, again, to shield Rivkah. “Cole, please leave.”

Cole laughed.

Rivkah hissed, “Move out of the way, Jaxx.”

“No.”

“Move. Out. Of. The. Way. I can take him.”

Cole gave another hearty laugh. “I’d suggest you do as she says. I can kill two birds with one of these stones.” He patted his weapon.

Rivkah pushed Jaxx to the side.

Cole roared. “Bye, Rivkah.” He pulled the trigger, firing a cluster of plasma blasts.

Rivkah dropped to the ground, then lunged toward Cole. She kicked his chest, fast, strong.

It would have taken out anybody. Anybody not in a titanium exo-suit. Anyone not named S.A. Nick Cole.

Cole didn’t budge.

Rivkah fell back, slightly dazed.

Jaxx lurched froward and pushed Cole’s weapon as the man pulled the trigger. Chunks of concrete blasted from a building’s side wall.

Rivkah rolled to the side, kicking at his knee, which ought to have brought him to the ground. Again, he didn’t budge.

He slammed a forearm across Jaxx’s shoulder, taking Jaxx off his feet and to his back. Cole shifted away and magnetized the rifle to his back. “This thing just gets in the way.” He yelled and jumped toward Rivkah. She dodged as Cole came down with a crushing two-handed blow, taking a nice chunk of tarmac with him.

Rivkah lifted her fists in a Muay Thai stance. She gave Jaxx a side glance. “Jaxx, you pansy. Help me.”

Jaxx put up his hand. “Cole, if you don’t hurt Rivkah, I’ll come with you peacefully.” He had a plan and it had nothing to do with going back to the Secret Space Program. Hopefully, Rivkah could still read his mind.

“That I can do,” Cole responded. “We go now.” Hey threw an index finger at Rivkah. “Don’t move a hair, or Jaxx gets it.” He motioned toward the craft. “Get on board, Jaxx.”

As Cole gestured to the ramp, Rivkah jumped on his back. She pulled the rifle off and pushed off. Landing on her feet, she aimed at Cole. She hesitated. It was a powerful weapon. The kickback might knock her off her feet, if she wasn’t firmly planted.

Cole jerked away, swiping his arm outward. “You persistent little bitch.”

Rivkah pulled the trigger and bolts connected with Cole’s chest armor, spinning him on his side, sliding him across the pavement. Sparks flew and he left one hell of a skid mark. When he stopped, he didn’t move.

Rivkah ran up the ramp, stopping mid-stride. “Jaxx, what are you waiting for? He’s not dead. He’ll be up and at ’em in seconds. Let’s go.”

Jaxx held the laptop close to him and looked at the wall that shielded the secret elevator that went back to Shaughnessy’s room and, minus Slade and Fox, to his dream work.

Cole started to move.

His choice was made, not by Rivkah or himself, but by the man who might wreak havoc on him—Cole. The door shut airtight, and Rivkah keyed on the holographic display console and the dropship lifted into the sky.

47

June 10th ~ Over Wichita, Kansas

Rivkah was tired, her eyelids heavy. She did everything she could to keep them open.

She flew the Oospor Class-9 Dropship at near low orbit. To any star gazer, her highly-sophisticated technological ship would look like a passing satellite.

Even with Rivkah’s ability to master just about any ship, this ship was so sophisticated she and Jaxx couldn’t figure out how to make it fly any faster than a commercial airliner. It had too many holographic buttons and, without a ship manual, they were working with their knowledge from their experience flying SF-13 Air Wings. The Air Wings were easier to fly and that was saying something, because Air Wings were advanced. Or, maybe it was the powers that Jaxx gave her that dumbed her down.

Rivkah nodded off for a second, then woke with a start. She took a deep breath and thumbed over her shoulder. “I’m taking a nap on the hospital bed back there.”

She walked to the bed and lay down.

“I guess I’ll assume controls?” Jaxx was being a sarcastic ass. She wasn’t used to that type of tone from him, but she was being an ass herself and Jaxx was probably tired of people pushing him around—that’s if Underfoot Black treated Jaxx remotely close to how Rivkah was treated.

He moved over to her seat.

She lifted her head, giving him a deathly stare. “No shit, Sherlock.” She wanted to cut him like he cut her every single night. The same dream. Every night.

She couldn’t help it. Everything that came out of her mouth was fueled with hatred and fire. He’d left her to melt, to burn, to die. She wanted to strangle him on the spot, but something prevented her. Some deep, abiding drive; a drive so compelling, it felt like a mandate. Made no sense.

If I touch him—hands around his neck, squeezing the trachea, breaking his hyoid bone, cutting off his air supply—the powers come back. She flexed her shoulders, fighting off a yawn. She didn’t want to appear vulnerable in front of him. It was too much, the exhaustion was going to win out. Maybe I could just shoot him. Close range, but no physical touch.

She smiled. Her eyelids fell. She faded off to sleep.

* * *

Captain Fox stood next to Rivkah’s starfighter, several high-ranking pilots next to him. They saluted Rivkah as she inched the starfighter closer to the launch tube. She didn’t know if what she was doing was right, but she sure as hell knew that what the Secret Space Program was doing was wrong. They were destroying an entire civilization because they were greedy, power-hungry bastards, something she only thought corporations were capable of, not the military. Taiyo was chock full of gold, silver, crude oil, and minerals she’d never heard of that the Kelhoon and the Secret Space Program could profit from for hundreds of years.

You live and you learn. I signed up to a lie.

Rumor had it, Jaxx defected to the Taiyonian’s side. Rivkah convinced the admiral that she was the only one who could change his mind. Her lie worked, just like their lies worked on her for years. Their lies didn’t work anymore.

They trusted her to bring him back for court martial. They shouldn’t have. She had another plan up her well-armed sleeve.

The launch tube’s exit opened. Taiyo stood off in the distance, highlighted in a blueish-green hue. It was gorgeous, almost as beautiful as Earth.

She accelerated, burning down the tube and out into space.

In minutes, she’d enter Taiyo’s atmosphere. She’d hail them, using her callsign. She crossed her fingers, hoping she’d reach Jaxx and he would tell them to stand fast; that she could be trusted.

Her comm line beeped. “This is Richard.”

Rivkah’s heart beat faster. Fox didn’t drop his rank like that. The bastard was trying to be convincing. She didn’t flick her comm on. “I wasn’t born yesterday, you ballsack. You can’t schmooze me.”

“Rivkah, hear me out. He’s a deadly pilot and he’s changing the tide for them. You know the kind of damage he can do. Here’s what I’m thinking. When you’re alone with him, give him as much of you as you can. Then, when his guard is down, strike him dead.”

Rivkah stared at her console. Fox really was an asshole of the first order.

“You understand what I’m saying, soldier? When he’s his most vulnerable go in for the kill.”

“Are you asking me to seduce him, Captain?”

“If that’s what you’re hearing, sure. Go for it.”

“I’d be glad to. Out.” She gave Fox what he wanted to hear, but she had no intention of touching Jaxx in any sexual way. They were crew mates, buddies, friends. That shit was off-limits.

She nosed her craft at forty-five degrees and entered the wild Taiyo atmosphere, the flames grabbing for her starfighter’s nose. When the blaze died out, she leveled her craft. She clicked on her comm line to send a call out to Jaxx’s starfighter, but she’d dropped into a live dogfight, craft dodging and firing and blasting the almighty shit out of one another. Why hadn’t Fox warned her? Was it a set up? Were they trying to get rid of her, too? They had to have known as they gave her these exact coordinates to drop in. And why didn’t her radar pick it up? Something smelled fishy and she guessed that smell came from Fox. Unless he wanted her to join the fray. With Fox, she couldn’t rule anything out.

She pulled up, avoiding a Kelhoon fighter and spotted Jaxx immediately, flying like an expert dancer, downing Kelhoon pilots as if they were stationary targets. It was the same, every time she saw him in action. Both baffling and thrilling that he could be so fluid with his craft.

She targeted a Kelhoon and blasted it with her PC’s, barreling through the flames. Her craft shook, cannon fire zipped by her. She twisted and looped. The Taiyonians were on her six.

She opened her comm to Jaxx’s private channel, her breath fast. “This is Captain Rivkah Ravenwood. Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx, do you copy? Tell your guys to get off my ass. I’m with you and the Taiyonians now.” With those words, she officially defected. Her heart fell, her mind split between loyalty and doing the right thing. But screw Fox and those bureaucratic assholes acting as military officers, stealing from the Taiyonians for their own gain.

She came out of her loop, a Kelhoon craft in front of her. They still didn’t know she wasn’t on their side. She let loose two SSSRM-23 Slingers. Direct hit and the Kelhoon cracked into fiery debris.

Jaxx came around her six.

“This is Rivkah. Jaxx, do you copy?”

She banked wide, hoping Jaxx’s trajectory would cause him to swoop by her. He remained steadfast on her tail.

Her cockpit lit up with weapons lock and she gasped. He targeted her. “Jaxx, this is Rivkah. Don’t shoot. I repeat, hold your fire.”

He sent a slinger just as he came alive on her comm. “Rivkah? That’s you? Pull up! Pull up!”

She pulled back on her control stick, her bow toward the sky. Her starfighter shook and her holographic control panel blinked off. She flicked a look over her shoulder. Her ship’s tail was torn apart and smoke trailed out of the back.

Her craft bucked downward, then caught in a spin. She headed toward the heavy forest below. She pulled the ejection booster.

Nothing.

A second time.

It didn’t work.

She pulled it again and again. “Open!” She kicked at the control panel. “Turn on you piece of shit. Don’t do this to me.”

For a moment, the panel clicked on and her controls came back online. She pulled back on her stick. No movement. “The fire burned away the tail elevator.” She couldn’t get any downward flow to pull her Air Wing toward the sky.

Her craft shuddered, hitting the highest trees in the forest canopy.

She pulled the ejection booster and the cockpit window flew off, her seat following a second later. The parachute caught a tree, ripping apart before it had a chance to open. She fell alongside her starfighter and crashed through tree limbs until she walloped onto the forest floor.

She bounced off the ground once, landing on her side. Her ribs cracked, her leg broke. With the air knocked out of her, she cringed in pain. Crawling away from her craft with her arms and one useful leg, a secondary explosion threw her Air Wing ten feet in the air.

The heat engulfed her as she dragged herself farther away. The craft came back down in a loud crunch. Yet, she moved farther, but the more she did, the more her skin burned. Bloodied, she realized the heat came from her, not the ship. Smoke swirled from her fingertips, her skin melted. Her clothes, her hair, her body was ablaze.

She fell face-first on dry, smoking grass, her cheek and ear singed to high hell. She rolled and rolled as the searing pain lashed across her body. She groaned in agony as the ground extinguished the fire—the fire trying to turn her to ash, trying to take her soul.

She crawled farther away from the crash, her left leg twisted in the wrong direction and the skin on her hands falling away like dripping glue, exposing tendons and muscles. Exhausted, the smoke in her lungs fought against every breath, her broken ribs making it nearly impossible to grab air.

She laid on her back, ready to die, but pressed her rescue beacon on her belt, doubting it even worked. Up above, through the broken canopy and in the blue sky, she could see Jaxx circling like a vulture.

Rivkah bolted to a sitting position. She gazed at her hands. They were normal. She touched her face. It was too smooth. She wasn’t this person, this normal-looking, unscarred person. She was a fighter, who’d earned her battle scars. She should have worn them like a badge of honor, rather than hiding herself away.

No more.

No more hiding, no more waiting. She was Rivkah Ravenwood and she was in charge of her destiny.

She looked around. She was on a cot inside Cole’s dropship.

And there he was, his back to her, her attempted murderer. Jaxx.

“Get off the controls, now. I’m piloting the rest of the way.”

48

June 10th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

Drew had never met his darknet buddies in person. They weren’t what you’d call people-people. But he’d convinced “starwanderer3,” “jabberwockmyass,” and “bitemymegabite” to meet him. They, like Drew, were of the “what are shoelaces and why should I tie them?” class of nerdery. But they’d been at their computers, studying the world, watching patterns, talking bollocks about aliens, black holes, worm-theory, black-ops, cover-ups and conspiracies their whole lives. Not that it mattered to Drew, but they were also the world’s leading experts on the scientific failings of Doctor Who, Star Trek, and Star Wars so they were 1000% prepped for a clandestine meeting in a dingy basement, under cover of night.

Trouble was, Drew couldn’t wait for nightfall and he didn’t have access to a basement. They would have to come to him. A mission this dangerous could not be relayed over the web. Not even over a secure channel. De nada. They were going to have to put their pants on, leave their houses, board planes, and meet him by the triple tree—three trees growing out of one seemingly dead white pine stump—in Mountain State Park near Chestnut Knob loop at 0900 hours, on June 10th—today. He sent them a detailed map through encryption he didn’t think anyone but his buddies could break. And, break it, they did.

Drew stood under one of the chestnut trees that lined the loop. Upside to meeting in a public space, there were plenty of hikers about, which gave you cover. Downside, he had no idea what starwanderer3, jabberwockmyass, or bitemymegabite looked like. He could rule out the suits, dashing from their cars to their boxy offices, but it was Charlotte, so there weren’t too many of them.

He checked his watch. Either they were all late, or he hadn’t been able to pick them out of the hikers. Score one for the nerd patrol or he’d picked a bad spot

Scratch that.

It was the shuffle and the paranoia that gave him away. Jeebus on a cracker. Could he look any more suspicious? The coat, the Converse, the glasses, the phone glued to his hand all screamed: “I am on a clandestine operation and the Government is out to get me, look away, look away, look away.”

Actually, that wasn’t a bad cover. Drew thought about the shape of his life-to-come. Perhaps that’s what it would look like, him shuffling along, babbling nonsense while lacing it with truth, pushing a shopping cart of all his worldly goods.

“Greetings of peace, Earthling.” They’d decided on a standard greeting, so they could identify one another. He smiled at the Converse-wearing human who stood beside the tree.

“Who says I’m from Earth?”

They both cracked up.

As soon as they’d made the first introductions, two more hackmeisters emerged from the bushes. One was tall and skinny with long hair and an astigmatism that made it impossible to know which eye to look at. The other was a goth-girl, with panda-black eyes and purple lips. They both flashed Drew Spock “live long and prosper” signs, which meant they were all assembled.

“No names, no addresses, no contacts, other than the contacts we already have.”

Everyone in the circle nodded. They knew the drill. Thrilling as it was to meet, the operation was founded on absolute and unbreakable secrecy. The minute they knew anything about one another, they would be compromised.

Drew fished three thumb drives from his inner pocket. “What I am about to give you blows the roof off what we know about space travel, our government, and life in the Universe. There are ancient civilizations out there in the stars. They know about us and have left us to evolve. Apparently, we’re too war-like to invite to the intergalactic party just yet.”

He was preaching to the choir, confirming things they had long suspected.

“Slade—you’ve seen him, that asshole who tried to discredit me—is planning to take high-ranking officials and ‘essential’ personnel on his expedition to colonize Callisto. He plans to leave the rest of us behind, to face the rising waters and inevitable inundation.”

Goth girl frowned.

“You heard me. There’s going to be another great flood. One that blankets the Earth. There are a million theories out there about why, but none of them matter, because we have to let people know we’re facing extinction and that bastard is evacuating the very people who could help us get off-world. Every scientist who knows anything about building space-worthy craft is going to be taken from us. Slade and the GSA are signing our death warrant.”

Converse-wearing dude held up his hand. “Permission to speak?”

“Granted,” said Drew.

“If we get this data out there…”

“And we will,” said Goth-girl.

“If we get this data out there, will it make any difference?”

“Sure it will,” said Drew. “Do you think they can launch an exodus if half the world shows up to protest? We’ll broadcast their plans, which incidentally, include a launch date, and force them to re-think the mission. We’re in it together. All for one, and one for all.” He regretted the last bit, as soon as he’d said it. He’d been doing well, feeling inspirational, but had gone all Three Musketeers on himself.

No one seemed to care.

“That it?” said astigmatic.

“That’s it,” said Drew.

He wanted to hug someone, shake hands, something to show how grateful he was. Knowing, however, that starwanderer3, jabberwockmyass, or bitemymegabite were all probably too geeked out for human emotion and had problems with processing sense-data, just as he did, meant hugs were not on the menu.

He did his best imitation of a salute and sent his three-person army off to save mankind.

49

June 10th ~ West Glacier, Montana

Rivkah hovered the Oospor Class-9 Dropship above a forest in a remote area in Montana. It was late morning and the sun gave off a white-yellow glare across a meadow to the east.

She jabbed a finger at the view screen. “I’ll take it down in that meadow.” Her voice was hard.

She had talked little during the flight. When she did talk, every word had an edge. She didn’t hide her anger or her misery.

“How far are we from civilization?” Jaxx asked.

“Not far enough.” She brought up a map on the view screen. “Ten miles from Polebridge, Montana. Population, 132.”

She lowered the dropship in the meadow. The descent was quiet, even the landing. She pressed a button and the dropship’s ramp hissed open. “Let’s go.”

Jaxx shot her a look. “Couldn’t we park any closer to Polebridge? We’re ten miles away.”

“I want as little attention as possible. You can come or stay, I don’t care.” The ramp shook as it hit the ground, resting on a patch of wildflowers. She walked down the ramp and around the dropship, disappearing from view.

“I need the exercise,” said Jaxx. “I wonder if I was a jock when I was in the SSP? Was this hiking through the forests shit easy for me?” He grabbed the laptop and hurried toward Rivkah. The wildflowers and grasses were so tall, they reached his waist. Trees circled the meadow. The smell of Douglas Firs swept past him, borne on a chilly breeze.

Rivkah hacked a path through the undergrowth—flowers and all—as she ploughed through the meadow, only glancing back once to see if Jaxx was following.

He caught up. “Are we heading to a road?”

“Yes.”

“Then what?”

They reached the tree line and stepped into the forest. The ambient temperature dropped ten degrees in the shade.

“Then we walk until we reach Polebridge.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have to tell you squat. Like I said, you can come or not. I don’t give a damn. I have people who can help me disappear. You want to come, that’s up to you.” She turned and continued her vigorous hike.

Jaxx halted next to a wide tree. “Stop. You and Fox treat me like I am the scum of the Universe. Why?”

She walked back to Jaxx, her face a dangerous shade of “screw you, asshole” and sank her hand onto his throat. She pushed him against the tree. And squeezed. “Do not couple me in the same sentence as Fox. Ever.”

A zap went through her and she let go with a yelp, then shook her hand.

Jaxx rubbed his neck. “I’m sorry, but what the hell did I do to you? I pissed Richard off so damn much, he shot me twice. And you clearly want to do the same.”

“If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.” She stepped over a downed tree. “You left me for dead.”

Jaxx blanched. That would be a good reason to be pissed. “I have a hard time believing I left you to die.”

She ducked under a large branch. “How convenient.”

Up ahead, a road bordered the edge of the forest. He was happy it was a short walk to civilization, although in this case, civilization was just a road. “Slade had me undergoing hypnosis. I’ve gotten to the point where I saved your life.”

She stopped and spun, almost putting a finger on Jaxx’s chest but thought better of it. “Yes. The blood. Thank you for your blood. The gift that keeps on giving. I can move things with my mind, hear what you’re thinking, and conduct electricity when I touch you. It’s a barrel of laughs.” She strode ahead, determined to shake him off. “Whatever screwed-up anomaly is inside you, I got it now. I heard mention of an enlarged and open pineal gland? Thanks for giving me part of your birth mark. Glad you’re not alone anymore?”

Jaxx heard mention of it too. Perhaps when he was under hypnosis with Donny or in passing. “I’m probably not the only one in the world with a larger than normal pineal gland.”

“Good, then find them and make some friends.” She walked onward, hands in a fist by her side.

Jaxx followed. “Rivkah, please tell me. Tell me the whole story. I cannot imagine any circumstance where I would leave you to die.”

“You want to know?” She kicked a rock out of the way. “I went after you, Jaxx.”

“You went after me?”

“After you defected to the Taiyonians. I convinced the SSP high command that I was going to get back our so-called star pilot. But, I wasn’t going to retrieve you. I was going to join you. I gave you my call-sign when I approached and you shot me down. My ejection booster didn’t work and when I survived the crash, albeit nearly burned to a crisp, you circled my location over and over, like a predator mocking its prey. You left me for dead.”

Jaxx didn’t know how to react, what to say. He didn’t remember shooting her down. “My guess is I didn’t know it was you. Or, I couldn’t find you down there when I circled. I wouldn’t leave a friend to die.”

She nodded, eyes wide. “You know what? That’s what I thought. Even though I could have sworn I heard you telling me to ‘pull up’ seconds after you shot me.”

Jaxx brightened. “So I warned you? I shot you by accident?”

“Nick Cole came to my rescue. We went over my flight on the holovids while I was practically dying in med quarters. I insisted on watching everything I could. And Captain Richard Fox found something peculiar. You know what he found?”

Jaxx pushed out his lower lip, knowing this wasn’t going to be good. “Nope.”

“A communique, from you to the Taiyonians, confirming your kill. Your exact words were, ‘Captain Rivkah Ravenwood, expunged.’ Expunged, for Christ sake. Who even says that?”

“You believed him?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t want to. The guy’s a prick. He’d stop at nothing to get his own way. But once I heard the audio, I knew you were an even bigger prick than him.”

“How do you know it was me?”

“I know your voice, Jaxx. I heard it. It was you.” She spun around and walked again.

For several minutes they walked in silence until they came upon a path that steered off the road and back into the woods. A sign marked, Boyd’s Bed ’n Breakfast, pointed them east. The path was short, dog legging to the left to a small lodge with several log cabins dotting the forest behind it.

Without as much of a wave, she walked down the path.

Jaxx followed, once again feeling like a beaten dog after his owner.

She stomped up the wooden steps to a deck that surrounded the lodge. She wiped her feet on the welcome mat and walked in, letting the door shut on Jaxx’s face.

He sighed and followed her. No prizes for guessing who was boss.

The reception was homey, rustic, welcoming. Lines of fliers on the wall ranged from helicopter tours to the grizzly zoo. A hunting-fishing-trapping-outdoorsy paradise.

A man behind the desk looked up from a newspaper, brightened to see a potential guest. He stood, placing his hands on the counter. “How can I help you folks?”

Rivkah leaned on the counter with a warm smile, practically batting her eyes at the guy. “I need a ride into Whitefish.”

“I can’t leave the Lodge. There’s no one else here to welcome guests. There are no taxis or...what do they call those things? No Ubers out here. I can probably convince one of the park rangers at National Glacier Park to pick you up, but that wouldn’t be until tomorrow.” He became serious. “Are you two okay? Where is your car?”

Rivkah didn’t answer. “How much for a room?”

He folded his hands. “$180 a night. We have one cabin available.”

Jaxx unzipped the laptop case and searched for the secret compartment. He felt a clump. He pulled back Velcro, revealing a pouch. A pouch full of the twenties that Rivkah showed him earlier.

Rivkah pushed his hand away from the cash. “Hell no. There’s no way I’m sleeping in the same bed or room as you. It’s hard enough not to kill you where you stand.”

The desk clerk looked left and right. No doubt he’d seen his fair share of lovers’ disputes.

Jaxx stepped forward. “Here’s $180. If you can get a park ranger to drive us to Whitefish tomorrow, I’d appreciate it.” He plopped down nine twenty-dollar bills.

The man handed him a key, happy to rid the lobby of the drama. “Cabin 7b.”

Jaxx grabbed the key and shot Rivkah a look.

She snagged the key out of his hand. “Thank you very much.” Out the door, she hurried down the steps, speaking over her shoulder. “You’re on the floor.”

“It’s not even nighttime yet. Are you just going to ignore me all day?”

She gave him a curt nod as she headed down a path marked b-Cabins. She wiped her shoes, walked in, and slammed the door behind her. And in Jaxx’s face. He drooped his shoulders and opened the door.

The place was quaint. Blue curtains, blue bed spread, and light blue walls. No phone. No TV. Two lamps and a bathroom.

No way to see or talk with the outside world.

The room, though, cheery. At least it had that much.

Rivkah sat on the bed, studiously ignoring him.

He pulled the laptop out of its case, placed it on the desk, and opened it. The operating system came alive, showing two dozen folder icons labeled with dates starting in May, the last folder labeled June 7th. He hovered his icon over the June 7th folder, then saw a folder labeled May 22nd with the words EPICA just under it. He knew all about the European Project for Ice Coring in Antarctica (EPICA), but why was Underfoot Black interested? Why would Slade care about ice-core samples?

He clicked on the folder, expecting to see the EPICA graphs of nearly a million years of ice ages and interglacial ages on Earth and their temperature swings.

That’s not what he saw.

Three subfolders popped up, marked; Pyramid 1, Pyramid 2, and Pyramid 3.

He opened Pyramid 1.

Three image icons dotted the screen. He tapped the first image. A close up of Callisto’s largest pyramid, the one he and Shaughnessy had been studying, before he’d been shunted off to hypno-memory-land. He couldn’t quite see exactly what was etched on a highlighted portion of the pyramid. He hit the arrow and moved on to the next image. Similar picture, though at a different angle and closer in perspective.

He clicked the third picture, bringing up an image he could actually see—etched lines on the base of the pyramid that went up and down like a heart monitor, though it wasn’t a heart monitor it was mimicking. Superimposed over the most famous EPICA ice-core sample graph. He’d studied it many, many times and recognized it on sight.

“E-P-I-C-A.” He pointed at the screen, talking to himself, “This hieroglyph is depicting exactly what EPICA depicts but the hieroglyphs’ data stops with the end of our last ice age.” Jaxx wanted to fist pump the sky. “It’s an exact replica of the EPICA ice-core sample. The Atlanteans are telling us they left Earth at the end of the last ice age, when Atlantis sank. When the waters rose four-hundred to five-hundred feet.”

Rivkah stirred. “What are you talking about?”

“Sorry. Just thinking out loud.”

“Don’t think out loud.”

“No problem.”

“What are you looking at, anyway?”

Jaxx couldn’t keep his excitement down. “The global warming craze is true. But it’s not mainly caused by humans like the media would like us to believe. It’s a cyclical event that has happened many times in Earth’s history. As the glyphs on this pyramid explain and what our own EPICA ice-core sample explains—along with a dozen more ice core samples—is that our world has an ice age, an interglacial age, and a global warming cycle. They’re cyclical.”

Rivkah stared at him like he was nuts.

“Look, Earth has had more than one ice age. They tend to last about one-hundred-thousand years. At the end of each ice age, the heat rises into an interglacial age and the waters rise hundreds of feet across the Earth, changing us from fifty percent water and fifty percent land to seventy percent water and thirty percent land.”

Rivkah buried her head under her pillow. “Major geek alert. Take cover.”

Jaxx didn’t let it stop him. “About thirteen to fifteen thousand years later, Earth ends its interglacial age with a global warming spike, again melting ice and raising the water. Global warming hits a peak, then plunges us back into an ice age. We see this cycle over and over in the ice core samples.” He pointed to a handful of upward climbs on the glyph’s graph. “You see? Here is a global warming spike, then we descend into an ice age. Here is another global warming spike, then another ice age. It happens like clockwork. It’s sort of like the Earth has this binge-and-purge cycle. She wipes the slate clean and starts over. It’s a kind of ecological magic.”

Rivkah threw her pillow at him. It landed a foot short. “What the hell? Magic? Wiping the slate clean? Are you completely tone deaf? You’re talking about the end of humanity as it’s currently configured; the death of billions of people.”

Jaxx shrugged. “Nature’s a bitch. She needs to be.”

“So we’re going to heat up, the oceans will rise, and we’re just gonna jump right back into an ice age, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, no. In an interglacial age, the water to land ratio gets to a point that the moon’s gravity pull tilts the Earth a certain degree, ushering in the next ice age. Water and the moon’s gravity pull are the keys to this all.” He could see she wasn’t getting it, or she just didn’t care. “Once an ice age occurs, after about one-hundred-thousand years, the ice to water ratio is at a certain point that the moon’s gravity pull with water isn’t exceptional and Earth tilts back to the degree that we are now, ushering in another interglacial age. It’s simple physics.”

“So, nerd brain, why does it matter?” It took more than “simple physics” to impress her. She had the kind of advanced training all astronauts had. Advanced physics wouldn’t have phased her.

“We have been through these changes many times. The Lemurians. The Atlanteans. We survived. When we fall into another ice age, it’s not as if the entire Earth is covered in ice. The Earth actually gets top and bottom heavy with ice, the waters start to recede, and more land is exposed. Earth would look more or less pumpkin-shaped during an ice age.”

“Lemuria and Atlantis, huh? You leave the SSP and become a loony bin?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” He gave a fake smile. He was used to this jeering tone from his peers, why not from someone who’d never studied the subject in the first place?

“So, dismissing anything about Lemuria and Atlantis, what you’re saying is that most of us will die when this ice-age arrives? When the Earth becomes a pumpkin and tilts off its axis?”

He had her hooked, he could tell. She understood what he was saying and was asking the smart questions, now. Jaxx clicked off the EPICA image and went back to the main screen. He took his fingers off the keyboard, wanting to explain more. “The ice-age is well on its way. Once the tail end of the global warming spike hits, just like every global warming spike before an ice age, life changes. Oceans rise for a bit, then they fall. Rivers rise as well and then they fall. Earthquakes and some mayhem, people either move to safe areas, away from volcanoes and oceans and large rivers, or get injured or die. But these changes are not as drastic as they were before the pyramids were built.”

“Oh my God, dude. Really? Now we’re on to the pyramids?”

“Yes, because the pyramids were built to act as weight distributor and volcanic release valves. Sometimes cultures completely collapse and disappear during these drastic climate changes. But, that doesn’t have to happen anymore. We’re connected by something I don’t think the Earth has ever seen—the internet. All we have to do is tell people to move inland and get out of the colder areas.”

“We’re all going to huddle together in the middle?”

“Anything above Wyoming and below Chile will be under ice.” He pushed his hands together, as if pushing people down from Alaska and the Russian Steppes, up from Australia and South America. “Move more inland and away from major water areas. Once the tilt occurs and the ice age begins, we will find more land in the equatorial regions—land that was once under water.”

She laid back. “Back up there, buddy. I’m finding it hard to believe that pyramids lessen Earth changes.”

He nodded matter-of-factly. “What I’m saying is, pyramids were designed to help sustain life more easily on Earth. Yes, major disasters happen. It would, however, be worse without the pyramids, because building a pyramid the size and gravitational strength as what we have in Egypt, China, Europe, Antarctica, Central and South America, will create a rise of some type on the other side of the Earth. The rise will occur 180 degrees, measured directly through the Earth’s core, when the pyramids punch holes through the Earth.”

Rivkah sat up. Her head was to one side. She was thinking. Hard.

Jaxx was in his own world, lecturing to the rapt audience he’d never had. “Basically, the Giza Pyramids, the Shen Pyramids, the Pyramid of the Sun, etcetera, punched holes through the Pacific plate, the Atlantic plate, and the Indian plate.”

“You’ve lost me.” Rivkah shook her head, looking at Jaxx. “How does a pyramid punch a hole in the Earth?

“Magma cuts a hole through the Earth’s crust and seeds a volcano on the ocean floor, exactly 180 degrees on the other side of the Earth, at the approximate same latitude. The volcano will grow overtime. Magma will spew out of said volcano, building an island above sea level.” Jaxx watched Rivkah’s eyes glaze over. “Are you listening? This is important. You need to understand how this venting system raises the land. This…” Jaxx shot to his feet. “We can do it.”

“Do what?” Rivkah rolled back on her side and closed her eyes.

He’d done his usual party trick and bored someone to sleep. Didn’t matter. He had an idea. A good idea. No, a brilliant idea.

“We can build more pyramids, switch them on, vent more magma, raise more land, and house more people. We can save mankind.”

She was already asleep.

He’d had a moment of complete brilliance and there was no one there to witness it.

Jaxx worked through the night, connecting the dots, charting magma flows, mapping where exactly the new pyramids would go and how large they’d need to be. There was no coffee, no tea, no caffeine in their cabin, so he was working on adrenalin and fumes. Rivkah slept like the dead, not even turning in her sleep. He wanted to cover her with a blanket, but he didn’t dare.

He put his head down, just for a second, to contemplate the names of the new continents he planned to raise from the ocean floor, then woke with a start, drool on his forearm, his eyes blurry.

A sound blared through the cabin.

Thrump thrump thrump thrump.

It was familiar.

A helicopter.

He stood. His chair toppled as he stepped back. He turned to see if the helicopter had woken Rivkah. The bed sheets were crumpled, but she wasn’t there. He walked into the bathroom, turning on the light. She was gone.

He went back into the bedroom. A window was open, large enough for Rivkah to escape.

He climbed onto the sill, ready to make his escape, but the cabin door burst open just as he’d gotten one leg out of the window. A rush of wind blasted him. He spun around. Someone was in the doorway, holding a searchlight so bright it almost blinded Jaxx. He dropped his head, shielding his eyes with his hand.

“God dammit, Jaxx.” It was Slade. “I would have at least liked a chase.”

Jaxx dropped his hand, sitting straighter in the window frame.

Slade’s silhouette filled the door, suffused with the light, almost like a god dropped from the heavens. Slade took several hefty steps forward and took one big swing, connecting his fist with Jaxx’s chin.

Jaxx fell to the ground, out for the count.

50

June 11th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

Drew had done everything in his power to derail Slade. He’d broken into high-security facilities, leaked pictures of man-made pyramids on a far-off moon to the press, been interviewed with him on TV, and to top it all off, had provided incontrovertible evidence that the asshole was planning to evacuate a fraction of the Earth’s population—only the highest-ranking officials, politicians, and scientists—and leave the rest of them to rot in the rising waters.

He was so proud of his team. They’d gotten the word out, just as he’d asked.

“Starwanderer3” had been arrested and charged with treason. Couldn’t have been his hacking. Converse-man was untraceable. He must have blabbed to someone about what he was doing; someone who had a beef with the Feds and flipped him for less time, or no time, in the slammer. Turned out, his name was Michael Anderle. He was a weapons’ specialist with NASA and had the top-level clearance. That meant the guy was a no-shit genius. All that talent, wasted. Down the tubes. For nothing. He was going to spend the rest of his life in Federal Prison, picking glass out of his Cheerios.

“Jabberwockmyass,” sent an encrypted message, which took Drew two days to unlock. One word. “Cuba.” He was taking himself off the grid. That meant he, too, had been compromised. Drew would never know his name.

Which left only “bitemymegabite.” She was the Goth-chick. She hadn’t said one word. Drew’s every hope was that she was safe, rather than in a ditch someplace with Joy Division playing on her shattered iPhone.

Drew was drained. When the news hit the wires that Slade was planning an exodus, he simply changed the launch date. Nothing was going to stop that mealy-mouthed, weasel-faced, no-good, shit-for-brains bobblehead from leaving Earth for Callisto.

Drew sighed. He suddenly wanted to see his mother again. He went for his keys when Connor Eves from WNN came on the news. Drew was so out of it, he didn’t realize his TV was blasting in the other room.

He walked into the living room, avoiding the unfolded laundry and stood, watched, and listened.

Connor Eves intertwined his fingers as he gave a news anchor-look into the screen; confident, erect, sincere. “No one has been able to pinpoint the location. But we have a feed from GSA, and all our WNN and affiliate stations will be broadcasting the launch worldwide. The view is stunning.” They switched to a shot of a large ship attached to three chemical fuel rockets about twice the size of the space shuttle. This ship was, they were told, twenty-years ahead of its time.

It was launching today. Slade was getting off planet today. This was beyond messed up.

Drew lay on his couch and curled into the fetal position. How could the world be so stupid? How could his own network continue to fall for Slade’s lie? When Slade said they were conducting an exploratory mission, so they could “ensure Callisto was habitable” then shuttle “everyone who wants to leave our beloved Planet Earth” on the next round of evacuations, the people, his network, his peers—sheep—had believed him. Why? Why did people always plump for the easy answer? It was beyond Drew’s comprehension.

The image of the ship was still on the screen, Connor’s voice narrating the history-making event, “In less than one minute, we’ll hear the countdown. We are bringing the ship’s crew live to you right now.”

Colonel Slade Roberson appeared on the screen, speaking into his intercom. The traitor dared wear a red, white, and blue bandanna.

The rest of the crew was partitioned on the TV screen around him like the opening credits of the Brady Bunch.

“That’s corny,” Drew shouted at the screen.

“Roll call,” Slade announced, giving the camera a wink, doing his politician act. “First Mate, Executive Officer, Richard Fox?”

Fox dipped his head. “Here, Colonel.”

“First Helmsmen, Bonnie Monroe?”

“Here,” she said, beaming a smile for the camera.

“First Engineer,” continued Slade, “Maya Lou Mills?”

“Aye, Colonel.”

“Information Systems Technician, Nick Thacker?”

“Yep. I’m here.”

He continued to name off names for the next ten seconds. Names that no one had heard of, including Drew. Going from ship doctors to ancient culture researchers, he finally ended at a linguistic, physics, and pyramid expert, Jon Shaughnessy.

The one name he didn’t call was Kaden Jaxx.

Drew’s heart sank. Maybe his uncle had truly been eliminated. Drew wasn’t able to fulfill his uncle’s desires, but at least he had gotten the word out, even if the whole thing had backfired. Drew had propelled Slade to a level of notoriety only enjoyed by a handful of humans.

“Helmets on. Get ready for takeoff.” Slade gave a thumbs-up to the camera, then put his helmet on.

The crew fastened their helmets to their jump suits. A bit too aware of the camera for Drew’s taste.

“Bonnie,” ordered Slade. “Turn on the engines and let her fly.”

“Oh my God,” said Drew. “That’s not even a launch protocol.”

A moment later, the craft started to shake and the TV screen changed from the Brady Bunch view to Slade’s ugly mug, filling the entire screen.

Connor Eve’s voice came over the TV, “Each rocket contains 12,000 pounds of rocket fuel, making it the heaviest and most dangerous launch of our lifetime—of any lifetime. Get ready, because the countdown is about to proceed.”

In spite of his hatred for Slade, Drew’s stomach swam somersaults, much like the rest of the world. The ship, which was the tip of a larger starship, would eventually dock with the starship in Earth’s upper orbit. Once it docked, they’d be on their way to Callisto.

The camera panned out. The ship was on a launch pad somewhere offshore, in a beautiful ocean seascape, blue sky above. At this moment, the world, including the news, saw the location for the first time. Yet, no actual location scrolled across the screen.

The rockets spewed fire, and the craft moved upward as if inching along, then blasted off the launch pad and into the sky.

Drew couldn’t take his eyes away as the camera followed the craft’s trajectory. His tongue tingled, and his heart beat faster. He clenched his fists, biting his bottom lip. He, like everyone else, didn’t know if he was breathing or not, and didn’t care.

He thought of his Uncle Jaxx. Was he watching as well? Either from the other side of death or here on Earth?

Drew took his focus from the ships ascent to the camera panning on Slade. He squinted and cringed, as if he had a million pounds sitting on his chest.

Connor’s voice came over the TV, but it was more of a distant distraction. “They have 3G’s pressing on them. This is a tough go. But it’s all looking good so far. Nothing to worry about.”

They entered space in six minutes, which passed like six seconds. Slade smiled, going from Earth’s gravity one second and into space’s nearly non-existent gravity the next. He floated off his chair a few centimeters and into his straps and shoulder harness. “That was a rush.”

“Yeah, I’ve got a headache,” Fox complained.

“Me too,” said a couple more voices.

“I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Bonnie mentioned.

“Please don’t,” Slade responded. “We’re on national TV.” He corrected himself. “No, worldwide TV.”

“Everyone relax; we rendezvous with the rest of the ship in a few hours.” said Fox.

Drew’s eyes widened. Even though he was against every aspect of the launch and Slade’s idea of getting the government off the planet—starting with himself and this ship—Drew was riveted. It was a rush, like watching a car chase on a film or watching a jet fight on blue-ray. If he had popcorn, he’d be shoving fist-fulls in his mouth.

“Strap back in, crew.” Slade’s voice was low and urgent. The camera caught his worry. He tried to smile, but it was tight, forced.

“What’s up, Colonel?” Fox asked.

Slade’s eyes dashed back and forth. He looked at something Drew and the cameras couldn’t see.

“Something’s wrong.” He pressed some buttons. “Do we have a leak?”

The TV screen went white.

Connor blinked back on the screen; his mouth open. “There are no words…” he faltered, then touched his earpiece. “We’re going to show it.” He held back the tears, but was caught looking down and sobbing just before the TV cut to an image of the debris falling back through the clear blue sky. “As you can see, it launched without a glitch. It…it seems to have exploded just above the atmosphere.”

Drew’s mouth gaped.

Connor nodded several times, pressing his finger in his ear. He folded hands together. Wrinkles grew with his downcast face. “God Bless Colonel Slade and his brave crew. May they rest in celestial peace.”

Drew looked past the TV, shaking his head. This wasn’t right. This didn’t happen. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to call everyone he knew and tell them to settle down and that this was just another conspiracy. He imagined people placing their heads in their hands. Some crying, others bemoaning the fact that humanity’s greatest triumph had disintegrated in front their eyes. Their excitement, their one chance to be part of history, erased in the blink of an explosion.

But, it didn’t happen. He knew it. He saw through Slade’s bullshit fake-out. He also knew no one would believe him. No one.

51

June 11th ~ Unknown

“Lift your leg really high, Jaxx.”

Jaxx’s mind was coming around, though he hadn’t a clue where he was.

Slade led him, with a bag of some type over his head not allowing him to see a damn thing. The bag was tied softly around his neck, enough for him to breath—how thoughtful of them—but not enough for him to slip it off.

He lifted his leg, though weary and weak. His toe hit a ledge. He stumbled, but his foot landed back on the floor almost immediately, which meant he’d just crossed some sort of threshold. Maybe. He needed data, if he was going to find out where he was and where they were taking him. He could neither smell, nor see anything through the bag. He needed sound. He stomped his foot, hard, with his next step. Good. The reverb was metallic. There was also an echo. They could be in a small building. A warehouse of some kind. But metal floors? What had metal floors? He shivered. “Meat locker” was the first thing that came to mind.

Slade pushed him into a chair, then strapped a harness over his shoulders, crossing his chest and hips. He then tethered Jaxx’s forearms to the arm rests.

“Where are we?” Jaxx heard the panic in his own voice.

“You’ll be fine, Jaxx. Be calm or I’ll knock you out again.”

Slade walked away, shutting the door behind him.

“Slade?” said Jaxx.

No answer.

He dropped his chin to his chest, feeling a wave of nausea. Throwing up in the bag would be beyond shitty.

A door opened and two sets of shoes clacked against the floor. No, not shoes. Boots. Shiny boots, I bet.

“Who’s there?” Jaxx asked. “Can you help me?”

“It’s Slade, Jaxx. No need to ask me for help. You ain’t getting any.”

“There are two people here. Who’s with you?”

“Captain Richard Fox.”

Jaxx tightened.

“Don’t worry, numb nuts,” Fox said, a hint of laughter in his voice. “I’m not here to mess you up.”

They took the bag off Jaxx’s head.

Jaxx’s eyes adjusted to a dimly-lit room. The windows were covered with blackout material, as was the ceiling.

Slade winked. “Time to go.” He dug into his pocket, taking out a piece of gum, then popped it in his mouth. He folded his arms. “Don’t be nervous.”

Jaxx’s breathing was shallow, his eyes darting from Slade to Fox. “What’s happening?”

Fox grinned, looking at Slade. “This is fun. Can I stay here and watch?”

Slade rubbed his hands together, then checked his watch. He turned and exited through the curtains. A glimpse of a white, rounded wall caught Jaxx’s eye through the curtain opening.

Slade came back, holding a helmet with a black visor and a large, thick, space-age looking sleeping bag. He handed the helmet and bag to Fox.

Jaxx tried to kick Fox, but the restraints held him at bay. “What’s going on?”

Slade stared down at his empty palms, his eyes glazed. The guy was tired, as if he’d been up for days. “The rest of the world thinks we blew up right after the launch. You, on the other hand, are the first to see that we haven’t.”

Jaxx tilted his head. “Launch?”

Slade bent down, his face only inches from Jaxx’s. The minty-fresh gum did nothing for his drinking-too-much-whiskey breath. “What have I told you about that echo, Jaxx?”

Jaxx nodded. The man was coming unhinged. Jaxx needed to tread lightly. “Can you at least tell me where I am?”

“Classified,” Slade replied.

Fox placed the helmet over Jaxx, and everything went dark, the black visor blocking all light.

Someone—had to be Fox, he would enjoy being rough—undid the straps that held him to the chair. Fox yanked him to his feet and wrapped him in that space-age sleeping-bag-thingie they’d brought in with them.

“This will just take a moment,” Slade said. His voice was muted by the helmet.

The two men messed around with Jaxx’s helmet and adjusted the bag. Jaxx heard two clicks, fastening the bag to his helmet. Then they strapped him back to his chair. Assholes.

Fox and Slade walked away. The door slammed. Again. His life had become a series of slamming doors. What kind of slam was it, though? A heavy door. Heavy, with multiple locking mechanisms. The shape of the door frame, the heavy blankets all around the room, the sound that door made.

He wasn’t in a warehouse.

He was in a freaking spaceship.

Jaxx took a deep breath, fresh oxygen filling his lungs.

“I am going to Callisto,” he screamed. No one hears you in a spaceship. “I am going to Callisto, wearing a suit designed for prisoners.”

The room tilted back… back… back… until Jaxx was horizontal. “Yeah,” he said. “D-day.”

The vibrations were bone-shaking. Even his teeth rattled in their sockets. Way behind him, there was that loud, continuous roar. “Engines are primed. We are ready for lift off.”

Jaxx swayed forward, the shaking almost addling his brain. He tried to scream, but he couldn’t.

Gravity pressed against him like no force he’d ever felt. It pressed on his shoulders and chest, like a boulder slowly crushing him. It was mounting, more pressure every passing second. The ship accelerated.

Jaxx was certain he was about to be pulverized. They must have gotten the calibrations wrong. Surely not all space travel was like this? He tried to contract the muscles around his rib cage, to protect his lungs. He desperately wanted to remain conscious. He’d blacked out far too many times. Now was the time to stay awake, alert, in control of his life. If they would only listen to him, he would tell them how to design a ring of pyramids and save Earth. He shook his head. Earth would be fine. She always was. It was man who was going to suffer.

He forced his eyelids open and flew directly into the dark.

52

June 12th ~ Charlotte, North Carolina

Drew wheeled his mother on the cement path, heading to Tanner Springs Assisted Living Center’s only scenic view, a small pocket of trees.

“Mom. I had to see you.”

“Well, that’s good. Do we know each other?”

He pushed her into the shade, parking her chair next to a wooden bench. He helped her out of her chair and onto the bench. “No need to fake it anymore, Mom. They won.”

She shook her head. “Not unless you let them, son. They may have won the battle, but you, my darling, are going to win the war.”

A rocket blasted off across the way, rocket smoke trailing across the sky and into the heavens. It was loud, though not as close as it sounded. Miles away. Another governor or senator leaving Earth to join the other politicians and their families on a starship destined for Callisto. He wanted to scream to the world that he warned them, that he told them so.

The entire government was leaving. It was being reported all over the news. Governors and senators left farewell letters, recorded farewell speeches, and told the citizens that they would be back as soon as they established a civilization on Callisto. They said that everyone would be saved from the global warming cataclysm that was on its way. When was the cataclysm going to hit the Earth? They didn’t know, but soon, very soon.

The politicians wouldn’t be back.

Laura cast a glance over her shoulder. “They’re still here you know. You need to be more careful. You broke the biggest story that this world has ever seen and there are trials to come. They’re going to try to silence you. You have to stay away.”

Drew patted her hand. “I love that you believe in me, Mom. And I love, more than anything, that you’re here and can see me and I get to talk to you again. I missed you so much.”

“They’re coming,” she said. “Game face on.”

Drew looked back at the facility. Sure enough, the clunky, uncoordinated, overly-muscled G-men were padding across the lawn.

“Is that a second rocket, Drew?” His mother pointed to another rocket, a different rocket carrying additional politicians closer to the edge of the atmosphere.

“It’s happening all over the country, Mom. They’re leaving. The politicians are leaving.”

“Not that I mind. What did the politicians ever do for us?” she said. She patted Drew’s hand. “Listen to me, Drew. Your dad didn’t die.”

Drew stared at his mom. “I don’t care what happened to him. He left us. Both. He’s dead to me.”

“Sir is alive.”

Another rocket propelled into the sky. Drew didn’t bother looking. His mom did.

“Why did you come here, Mom? Why have you hidden yourself away all this time? Was it because of him? Sir?”

“Nope,” she said. “Like I said before. It was because of me and because of you.”

Drew shook his head. “Do not lay that on me. Please.”

“I knew if you found out what I know, your life would be in danger. I wasn’t happy with your father’s lifestyle. I left him because he was a fraud, a liar, and part of something black and clandestine.”

“Do you know where my dad went?”

She pointed at the rocket in the sky. “He’s in one of those.”

“What’s his name?”

She gave me a wink. “You talked with him on the news the other day.”

“I...uh…”

“Slade Isaac Roberson, Colonel and once head of the Global Safety Administration. Now flying to Callisto to be a leader there, as well. He always dreamed of living amongst the stars.”

“You have got to be shitting me.”

Laura coughed. “I shit you not.” She coughed again, this time harder. “Hand me my water.”

As Drew reached for her water, Laura pitched forward, out of her chair, and onto the ground. She spasmed and kicked, froth forming at the edges of her mouth.

“Mom,” Drew tried to scoop the mess out of her mouth, to clear her trachea. “Someone, please, help me.” He turned her on her side and tried to perform a Heimlich. “Please,” he screamed. “I need some help here.”

He looked back at the Facility. The G-men were back at their posts, guarding the doors. There was an attendant, banging on the glass, trying to get out, but there was no way around those goons.

Drew looked at his mother’s glass. Had they snuck something in there when the two of them were watching the rockets leave Earth, observing the politicians flee their sworn oaths to protect humanity?

His mother lay in his arms, still and quiet. He looked into the sky, tears wetting his cheeks and his chin trembling.

53

Date: Unknown ~ Location: Unknown

Jaxx lay on a cold table. A hazy light swayed above him, not blinding by any means. It was pleasant, calming.

He tried to lift his head, to see where he was, but the pain knocked him back. He cringed. It was going to be a hum-dinger of a migraine. He could already tell. He blinked. Vines hung from the ceiling. Green peas. He turned his head, wincing. An ache squeezed his temple. Dozens of long boxes displayed tomatoes, squash, and cucumbers. Vegetable planters lined the room’s floor.

God, I feel nauseous.

A warm hand touched his forehead. Startled, he tried to get up. Lightning pain shot through his skull, pinning him back on the table. He bit down hard, clenching his jaw.

“Are you okay?” A woman leaned over, her face blocking out the light. She smiled.

“Who are you?” Jaxx’s voice was weak, barely audible.

She stroked his forehead. “I’m Francine. I’m one of the ship’s med techs.”

“Where am I?”

She averted her gaze. “Just relax. Right now, we need to get you healthy. Let’s not worry about where you are.”

Jaxx sat up, squinting at the searing pain in his head. Windows were everywhere. Stars speckled the sky.

“Please tell me where I am.” He tried to jump off the table, but the med tech held him down.

“I don’t know.” She walked over to the windows. “I only see stars. I’m not a navigator and I don’t know what quadrant we’re in. From what I’ve been told, we are somewhere between Earth and Mars.”

Jaxx rubbed his eyes. “Between Earth and Mars?”

“Yes.”

He remembered Slade knocking him out. He recalled Fox placing a helmet on his head. After that, nothing.

Francine put her hand behind his head. “If you’d lift up, just a tiny bit, you can have a sip of this. It will help with pain.”

Jaxx complied. If they could take the pain away, he’d be able to think. He closed his eyes and counted backwards from three. It was right there, the memory. He’d been strapped to a chair and flung into space. He gasped. It was true. He did launch. “I’m on a ship?”

“Starship Atlantis. This is one of our grow rooms, though this one is mostly vegetables.” She extended her hand. “Let me help you to your feet.” She took Jaxx’s arm and pulled him up, then guided him to the window. He held himself up on the window sill. A large fan-like object, full of mirrors, surrounded the ship, spinning like a wheel. He looked all around at the stars, almost losing equilibrium.

The tech steadied him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m in Starship Atlantis? It’s really called Atlantis?” Maybe they believed him in the first place, that those on Callisto were from Atlantis.

“Yes. Well, it’s called Space Shaq, according to Colonel Slade Roberson.”

Jaxx touch his forehead, trying to grasp what was happening. He turned, looking for a door. “We’re in space?”

“The ascent into space conked you out for a while.”

“How long?”

She looked at her watch. “17 hours.”

“Where’s Rivkah?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know any Rivkah. I can check our flight sheet.”

Jaxx rubbed the back of his head. “This doesn’t seem real.”

“It’s real. Do you want me to help you to your room?”

He rose his brows. “I have a room?”

“The starship has about five hundred. They aren’t extravagant, but they have a bed, a closet, toilet, shower, and a bit of a kitchenette.”

Jaxx touched his belly. “I need to sit.”

“That’s completely understandable.” She helped him back to the table. “Rest here and I’ll be back later.”

He nodded and laid on his back.

She left the room. Sprinklers turned on and mists of water covered Jaxx. He didn’t make any attempt to move. Too tired, and lying down helped his headache.

He touched his arms, making sure this was real. Why wasn’t he weightless and floating?

He stood, rubbing his temples and dragged his feet to the door.

He stepped into a hallway, also lined with windows. Outside, the fan, that he could only think was a solar sail, spun around the ship along with the ship’s frame. The inside of the ship, however, wasn’t spinning at all. He rested his head against the window and took a hefty breath.

He took a few steps down the hallway. Each step was light, almost as if he could float down the hall. He imagined the astronauts on the moon, where each step was like a bounce. It wasn’t the same on this ship, though maybe similar.

“Kaden Jaxx, I presume?”

He turned, staring at a man he’d seen a thousand times. Once in person, the rest on TV.

The man extended his hand to help. “I hear you’re going to help us figure out how these pyramids power themselves.” He grinned long and wide. “You’re the man with the name on a Callisto pyramid. Isn’t that something?”

How did he know that? No one knows that.

Jaxx couldn’t speak. He stared at the most famous man in the world, and that man not only knew Jaxx’s name, he knew a little more than Jaxx wanted him to know.

“Do you know who I am?”

Jaxx nodded. “The President of the United States. President Martelle.”

The president patted Jaxx on the shoulder. “Just call me Craig. I hate it when people call me President.”

“Pleased to meet you, Craig. It’s an honor. I need to find Colonel Slade.” Jaxx couldn’t believe he tried to evade the President, but it was essential he get to Slade and explain what he’d worked out, before he’d been abducted. “I don’t want to sound alarmist or self-aggrandizing, but I believe we have a way to save humanity.”

“Want to walk and talk?” said Martelle.

Jaxx ran through his entire “pyramids-are-terraforming-devices-which-punch-magma-producing-vents-through-the-Earth’s-core” presentation, just as he had with Rivkah.

“So, you’re telling me that ancient people, all over the world, all in different eras, created these pyramids, all for the same reason?”

“No. I’m saying that the Atlanteans created every major pyramid throughout the world, strategically, and with technology and sacred geometry long lost from man. Pyramids are terraforming devices to ease us into each age as best they can, to lessen the Earth changes, and to sustain a liveable environment on Earth. I think they created the pyramids on Callisto for the same reason, for better mineral quality, more oxygen, and to create a gravity field humans can live in.”

“Intriguing,” said the President. “Tell me more.”

Jaxx wasn’t used to being listened to, but he had the ear of the world’s most powerful man, so he decided to go for broke. “Atlanteans left Atlantis and built structures on Callisto 12,500 years ago. It’s no coincidence that it’s at about the same time the lost city of Atlantis went under, just like the hieroglyphs tell us.”

“The hieroglyphs?”

“Yes,” said Jaxx. “They’re all on the laptop.” He stopped. “Please tell me Slade remembered the laptop.”

Martelle smiled.

“Oh, good. I was worried there for a second.” The two men continued their walk around Starship Atlantis. “Where was I? Oh, right. The Atlanteans left Earth to continue their way of life. Like us, I suppose. The ones who didn’t leave, dispersed throughout the world. Some made their new home in Egypt, where they built the Great Pyramid of Giza. Again, 12,500 years ago.”

Martelle laced his hands behind his back. “So what you’re telling me is, we’re repeating the same scenario as the Atlanteans?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” said Jaxx.

The President leaned on the railing that went the entire way down the long glass wall. “We have a long ways to Callisto. Care to join me for a drink? There’s a nice bar on the third level.”

Slade appeared at their side, almost as if he knew they’d been talking.

“It’s fine,” said Martelle. “He still doesn’t have a clue. The smartest man on Earth and he doesn’t know he’s the key to our future. You’d think they’d teach them common sense, but no. He’s all angles, vectors, and theory.”

Slade laughed.

Jaxx stared at one man, then the other, trying, as always, to fit the pieces together.

“I even threw him a bone,” said Martelle. “Mentioned his name was etched on the pyramid on Callisto.” He slapped Jaxx on the back. “Why didn’t you ask how I know that? You’re incredible.”

Jaxx’s mouth hung open. The possibilities raged through his head. They were going to a resource-rich moon, possibly inhabited, with the Government, a gaggle of scientists, and the military. Not good, not good at all.

“We’re just headed for a drink, Slade. Care to join us?” President Craig Martelle flung his arm around Jaxx’s shoulder and steered him towards the bar.

Destination Atlantis

Ascendant Saga Book 2

Prologue

June 13th

Star Warden, Second Class Star Carrier

Secret Space Program

J-Quadrant, Solar System (Near Jupiter, Callisto Moon Orbit)

Star Warden’s reverse thrusters slowed the large ship, its engines easing into neutral as she entered Callisto’s orbit. The Second-Class Star Carrier was on a first-class mission: to land on Jupiter’s moon, Callisto, and claim it for the United States.

Admiral Gentry Race slid his hand over his freshly-shaved chin, a reminder to himself to behave like an admiral. Even though Callisto shaped up as the find of the century, and he’d be the first with boots on the ground, he couldn’t afford to let his excitement show.

“Executive Officer Bogle…” He faced her. “Have we detected human life down there? Correction, human or ‘other?’”

Bogle stood to attention. “The starfighters on Callisto appear cutting edge and recent builds, Admiral.”

Callisto’s pyramids, landing pads, and forested, biospheric translucent dome filled the screen in front of Gentry. If that didn’t pique his curiosity and awe enough, jet-like craft lined up alongside these marvels of ancient engineering. How pyramids or starfighters came to be on Callisto was a question for another day. Today, Gentry wanted to land and plant the flag.

“According to our scans, Sir, the moon’s a treasure of ores and minerals. Among other resources, we’ve detected crude oil, a subsurface ocean, and underground rivers and lakes. The surface’s electrotonic signatures register crystal and gold. The moon is teeming with underground assets.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Bogle. Have we detected life forms?”

“Negative, Sir.”

“Then whoever assembled this fleet has left?”

“That is one interpretation, Admiral.”

“Good,” said Gentry. They could mine Callisto’s resources without resistance. He pointed at an officer near the back of the bridge. “Send a communication to Colonel Slade Roberson.” He grinned. He’d beaten Slade to the punch. “Open communication. ‘Callisto secured’. Close communication.”

Colonel Slade and Admiral Gentry had served in the Secret Space Program together, for eighteen years, until Slade left to head the so-called 'Global Security Administration' which, in his own words, was tasked with 'securing humanity’s survival'. If the ocean’s rose, as Slade believed they would, and Earth was subjected to yet another Great Inundation, what better than a habitable moon? Though Slade and Gentry were ostensibly on the same side, Gentry was beyond thrilled that he would be first to set foot on Callisto. It would serve Slade right for leaving the SSP for civvy-street. Civilians weren’t suited to space exploration. Best leave that to the professionals.

“Take us down.”

“Affirmative.” Bogle's focus glued to the moon’s anomaly’s on the ships wide view screen, she slightly jerked back her head. “Warning, Sir.” She motioned toward the view screen. “We detect movement. Something is emerging from the ground. Whatever it is, is huge. I mean, massive. If I’m not mistaken, they are turrets. Scans report forty-four in total.”

Gentry glared into the view screen. “Are they targeting us?”

“Yes, Sir.”

That caught Gentry by surprise. No contact. No disagreement. No declaration of combat or war. He slapped his console, frustrated. “God dammit. Ready cannons.”

“Cannons ready.”

“Do not fire unless they fire at us,” ordered Gentry.

Bogle scanned her chair’s holographic display for energy anomalies. She didn’t have to look far. There were short pulses of energy, grouped in bursts of eight, emanating from the 'Lady of Atlantis', a statue the size of the Statue of Liberty, also known as 'Princess Leia' to the Secret Space Program. “We’re detecting strong energetic activity from the Princess. Her heat signature is rising.”

“Zoom in,” said Gentry.

Bogle brought the statue on the view screen. As Gentry racked focus, Princess Leia changed her transmission, pulsing blues and oranges. Bogle’s fingers raced across her screen, activating audio, visual, binary, every decoder that Gentry imagined she could think of, but her screen kept blinking the same useless result,

'Code source unknown. Message unreadable'

“The Princess is transmitting something, but she’s not targeting the turrets. But, it’s not to us, either. Maybe she’s communicating with sub-surface Beings, Sir.”

Energetic bolts, like balls of electricity, shot from the turrets. They exited Callisto’s thin atmosphere in a hurry, and slammed into Star Warden. The starship buckled under the direct hit, setting off alarms and throwing Gentry on his side. Star Warden reset herself in orbit, groaning like a whale as her port side drives activated to reposition her.

The overhead light switched from daylight white to ombre red—battle ready.

“Shields?” Gentry was on his feet, faster than any of his crew.

“We’re at eighty-two percent,” Bogle replied.

Another shudder brought Gentry to his knees. “Let’s make rain.”

“RGSS-2’s online, Sir.” His weapons’ chief was all over making it rain on Callisto. At the touch of a button, RGSS-2—Rail Gun Space-to-Surface Second Generations—popped high velocity projectiles the size of missiles, from Star Warden’s starboard side. They’d prepped for hostile alien encounters and knew how to pound those snot-nose, tentacle-waving, one-eyed monstrosities back into whatever steaming pile of sludge they’d crawled out of. When RGSS-2’s hit, they hit twice as hard as anything else Star Warden, or any Earth-made space craft, had in their arsenal.

Star Warden rattled as slug after slug ejected out of her barreled cannons, sending a constant vrum vrum vrum through the battery walls to the remainder of the ship. The vibration caught Gentry off guard. He sat in the admiral’s chair and gripped the armrests, knuckles white.

Bogle brought up the targeted turrets on the view screen. The rail gun could shoot a hundred slugs a minute, but once spent the chambers would be empty until the ship made it to a space armory to load up again. It was a one-time bombardment and always did the trick.

Until now.

Callisto’s guns switched targets and blasted the blue electric cannon bolts at the RGSS-2 slugs, turning them to dust on contact. Not a single slug reached Callisto’s surface. For the first time in fleet history, they’d failed to make rain. Now they floated slugless against an enemy that could withstand their heaviest weapons.

The crew looked to Gentry, who studied the screen. Everything below was at peace again.

“Fire the plasma cannons. Give ’em all we got.”

The turrets below wouldn’t be able to incinerate plasma. The PC’s, plasma cannons, weren’t as devastating as the railgun, but they had the advantage better accuracy. It would take longer, but Star Warden would prevail.

Callisto’s turrets rotated, their cannons extended and raised, locked onto their target–Star Warden. It had to be a trick of the light, because the muzzles appeared to balloon three-times their original size and what metal was capable of that? Gentry didn’t have time to think it through because in seconds, thousands of electric-bolts burst from the cannon and pounded the Star Carrier. The bridge’s view screen blinked in and out, the bolts zapping needed energy from the carrier’s core, somehow draining the heart of the ship. Gentry jostled in his chair. Sweat dripped from his reddening face, and he leaned forward with a clenched jaw. “Keep firing.”

Star Warden’s PC’s blasted turret after turret. The turrets exploded into fire blossoms then twisted into melted rubble.

It counted for squat.

Once a turret went offline, another turret popped up in its place, shooting volleys at Star Warden.

Another shutter. “Sir, shields are below fifty percent.” Panic filled Bogle’s eyes, something Gentry had never seen before.

“That low?”

“They’re sucking the life energy from our shields.”

Another hit and Gentry snapped to. For weapons to damage Star Warden like this was unusual, especially from turrets. “Keep targeting and continue to pound them. Lock ballistics on the pyramids. Let’s shut off their grid, render the turrets useless.” He massaged his temple. If their shields went down, they were burnt toast.

On Callisto, a turret exploded and another popped up next to it, sending more blasts toward Star Warden.

“A dozen intermediate space to ground ballistic missiles on their way planet-side,” said Bogle.

Gentry pursed his lips. “Good.”

One by one, the turrets turned the missiles into useless debris clouds.

“Fire again.”

The same results.

The ship vibrated and Gentry grimaced. “Shields?”

“Eighteen percent. This isn’t looking good, Admiral.”

“Why are we losing shields so quickly?”

Gentry had never seen Star Warden under fifty percent shields, let alone under twenty percent. He furrowed his brow and Star Warden shook again. He let out a shallow breath. Only one logical choice. He gave the order without a shred of emotion, though his guts roiled.

“Abandon ship.”

If it had been permitted, he’d have doubled over and vomited all over his own shoes, but there was no time for sentimentality. He needed to get his crew to safety. “Set evacuation procedures immediately.”

The turret fire from Calisto stopped and quiet filled the bridge.

Gentry stared straight ahead at the view screen. Callisto’s silence could mean a million different things, but his gut told him it didn’t mean surrender. He was about to do something that galled him, but it was necessary. A good commander knows when to attack and when to retreat. They were outgunned. It was time. “Back us up. We’re heading to the fleet.”

“Shields regenerating to twenty-one percent,” Bogle said. “We’re doing well.”

“Did you say well? We got the piss kicked out of us. Another minute and we’d be in our evacuation crafts, watching Star Warden being ripped apart.”

“Twenty-three percent, now, Admiral.”

“Thank you.” He stroked his cheek. His eye on a pyramid showing on the screen. Nothing beautiful or special about it, other than it gave off a reading that screamed impossible. It could power New York City.

Whoever was down on Callisto was more dangerous and more powerful than any race or species he’d ever come across, including his own.

Gentry’s face hardened and his eyes grew cold. This group on Callisto had to be stopped. In fact, they had to be eliminated. Any race this strong was a direct threat to human survival—to Earth’s survival. He couldn’t turn tail and run. He had to obliterate them.

He leaned forward. “Ready nuclear heads.”

Bogle tilted her head. “We can’t do that, Sir.”

“We can and we will. Launch when ready.”

Bogle abandoned her post and rushed to Gentry’s side. “There’s an archaeological and resource goldmine down there. Call it off. We’ll come back after we’ve had more time to think about our next action.”

Gentry crossed his arms. A fire welled in his stomach. “Do not second guess me, Bogle. Launch when ready.”

“You’ll destroy a resource bed that we could use for eons. And, we don’t know if they’re truly hostile. It could be an automated response. Perhaps we’ve entered a ‘no fly’ zone and the machines are programmed to repel all ships they don’t recognize…”

“They shot first. That’s hostile enough. Their technology is more advanced than ours, Bogle.”

A weapons officer chimed in. “Nuclear warhead ready. Keys locked in. All we need is yours, Admiral.”

Gentry paced to an officer’s station. He typed in a code on the station’s control panel and a small drawer slid outward with a long, thick shining key tucked inside. He grabbed the 'fire control' key and slid it into a keyhole designated 'admiral'. He glanced at two officers standing side by side, their own 'fire control' keys inserted into their designated nuclear launch keyholes. “Fire everything we have as a distraction.”

The bridge heated up and vibrated as missiles and plasma cannons lit space, and zipped through the Callisto’s atmosphere.

The Admiral eyed the officers. “Commencing launch in three, two, one...now.”

They turned their keys simultaneously.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bogle’s shoulders slump. She needed to grow a set. This was war. The sooner she learned that, the better off she’d be.

The view screen dimmed, to save the crews eyes from the coming nuclear explosion.

The warhead wasn’t large, but it was powerful. In ten seconds, a mushroom cloud would erupt on Callisto.

The turrets on the moon locked onto the warhead the second it left Star Warden. In a flash, the turrets fired in unison, filling the view screen with a blinding white light. The screen then filled with orange and red flames that quickly evaporated in the vacuum of space.

The warhead was hit close to Star Warden. Too close.

Gentry watched in horror as the bridge cracked in half. The view screen split down the middle and all the air got sucked into space, along with everything and everyone.

Bogle reached for Gentry as she spun toward Callisto, and as he catapulted in the opposite direction. Her mouth agape, his probably mimicking hers.

Star Warden buckled in on itself, explosions blasting holes in its sides, extinguishing seconds after.

People spilled out of the decimated ship, spinning in space’s cold, oxygen-deprived death grip.

Gentry’s vision narrowed, blackness crowding in, until he lost sight entirely. His body stiffened as the oxygen drained from his blood.

His heart stopped.

His brain shut down.

Darkness filled him, followed by a flash of light. He was a man among the stars, just as he’d always wanted.

1

Starship Atlantis ~ M-Quadrant, Solar System (Near Mars)

“Aw, shit, did you feel that?” Jaxx pressed his knuckle into his solar plexus. “I’m telling you, Slade, there are forces out here that we know nothing about. Waves, particles, energy frequencies…I’m feeling them right here, in my core.”

“Quit gawping at the stars. They’ll be here when you get back.” Colonel Slade Roberson nudged Kaden Jaxx’s chair with his boot.

Jaxx didn’t budge. The stars were so close he could almost grab them by their tails and swing them about his head. He wanted to lie in his chair, staring, forever. The signals he picked up were out of sight. He was a human tuning fork, newly tuned to a cosmic frequency. The songs of his childhood wouldn’t leave him alone. He was Major Tom, on a rocket ship, spinning in space. It was wild.

“It’s time to come out of your hole, Jaxx.” Slade wasn’t screwing around. Jaxx wondered if the guy ever did.

Slade had recruited him, back on Earth, to interpret the glyphs found on Callisto’s pyramids and—apart from the forced hypnotherapy, the time in the sensory-deprivation tank, being shot at by Slade’s henchman Captain Asshole Fox, the returning memories of his time off-world, and the realization that his life in no way resembled the life he thought he’d built—the job Slade had given him was a dream-come-true.

In his heart, he wanted to run down the sleek, elegant corridors of Starship Atlantis and into the ops center and take up where he left off, but Slade had been such an unrelenting jerk, he didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Slade’s organization, the Global Safety Administration, had treated him like a lab rat. And when not a rat, they used him to decode hieroglyphs on pyramids on a Jupiter moon, Callisto. Apparently, he’d done well and now he’d come along for the ride to said moon.

But, like Jaxx, no one understood Jaxx’s telekinetic abilities other than he had a bigger than normal pineal gland. One that was activated more so than science observed on any human to date. His pineal’s activity margin compared to the rest of humanity was like an Olympic sprinter in a race against a middle school child, Jaxx the Olympian.

He looked from Slade to the far-off stars outside his window. “No thank you. I’ll give it a pass.”

Slade returned in kind, dropping his eyelids like a puppy dog. “I understand.” He took a step forward, then kicked Jaxx’s chair. “Get your sad, piece of shit self up and out of that chair, Jaxx,” Slade’s voice boomed. Jaxx didn’t know if it was because of thirty plus years of yelling practice in the military or if this room had a remarkable sound quality to it.

Jaxx sat up alert, his heart on overdrive. He didn’t take his eyes from the window.

Slade grabbed Jaxx’s arms, pulling him into a standing position. “Do you want me to kick your ass again?”

Jaxx huffed, his hand coming to his ID badge clipped to his shirt. “Aye, Colonel.”

Slade curled his hand into a fist, then relaxed. He let out an exasperated breath. “Look, we have someone on board who needs your help.”

Jaxx felt it again, a deep chord struck right in the center of his chest.

Captain Rivkah Ravenwood—the woman he’d betrayed; the woman he’d saved; the woman who hated him with a white-hot-hate—was on the ship. He closed his eyes and let wave after wave of energy pass through him. He gave her his blood to save her life, and it connected them somehow. And he needed to know the how and the why. But it was bigger than that. They were both necessary. For what, he had no clue.

And at this moment, she needed him.

2

Starship Atlantis ~ M-Quadrant, Solar System

Captain Rivkah Ravenwood woke to a dimly-lit room, blinking lights around her. She was on a table. She breathed heavily, her arms and legs strapped tightly, her head restrained by a heavy band around her forehead. The back of her head throbbed. The gray ceiling gave nothing away.

Was she back in Underfoot Black? Wherever she was being held, didn’t sound or smell or feel like the Global Security Administration’s idiotic subterranean hideout. She’d only spent maybe a week and a half in the bowels of GSA’s underground base of operations, but she’d gotten used to the echoing footfall of guards and medics; as well as the damp odor of sweating walls and hothouse vegetables. No, she was no longer in Underfoot Black. But then where had they taken her?

The last thing she remembered was climbing out of the cabin window in West Glacier, Montana, while Kaden Jaxx was fast asleep at his desk. They had escaped Underfoot Black, and stolen Special Agent Nick Cole’s Oospor Class 9 dropship. Only after Cole had tried to take her life. Small, but important detail. She was a marked woman. There were people after her. People who meant business.

She'd had to leave the cabin and Jaxx. He could take care of himself. Well, he could if he remembered who the hell he was. If he kept up his doofy, “I am just an archaeologist” act, he was dead meat. But, that was his problem, not hers. A helicopter had come in for a landing and she was pretty sure it was coming to take her. She ran, hid behind a tree, and then blackness. She had no idea how long she’d been out. She lifted her hand, to investigate the back of her head, but the band that wrapped around the head of the table, and around her waist and chest, made it impossible. But not around her legs. Why? That was dumb. Whoever restrained her were amateurs.

She took a deep breath. And thought. The throbbing was probably caused by a smack to the back of her skull. Then she remembered his face. Right before she blacked out. Slade’s ugly mug.

There was no way of escaping Slade. If he wanted you, he had you, whether you hid or not. But she had to escape now.

Her belly welled with fire. Anger shot through her veins and into her muscles. She cringed and lifted her head, stretching the straps that held her down. She might not have been good at hiding, but she was good at breaking out.

It was pointless to lock her up.

She strained against the strap. Her lips curled and her nose twisted. Neck shaking, veins bulging, the straps held and she let up with a grunt. “Slade? Let me free.”

No answer.

“Slade, I know you hear me. Let me go.”

Silence.

Perhaps she was alone? The quiet in the room could be a clue, but quiet also meant tight lips, hands behind their backs, only talk when called upon by a superior. She couldn’t make out anything but the ceiling, and someone could be behind her, to the left, to the right.

But no one came to her side to stop her from attempting to break the straps. Her hands not bound, yet with the restraints tight as a guitar string, she wiggled her hips and strained with all her might to lean to the side. One hip a few millimeters higher than the other. She clenched her teeth and her hip strained against the pressure. It was enough space to slip her arm up and out of the strap. Ditto with the other side.

She let out all air to deflate her lungs, hence slightly shrinking her chest cavity. She grabbed the sides of the table, wiggled her chest and head. Thank God for sweat, or sliding through the forehead strap would have been a nightmare. Maybe impossible.

She turned her head to the side and wiggled toward the foot of the table, her knees up, and strangely, the soles of her boots on the edge. She didn’t bother wondering what she wore when she woke up, but a jumpsuit and boots were fine with her.

She used her feet and legs to help pull her out from underneath the chest strap, which lay loose above her head on the table, the waist strap now just below her breasts. Easy. She wiggled toward the head of the table, moving the other direction. At her waist, she sat up, changing the direction of her body and although tight, she slipped through her waist, then her legs and feet.

Out, she stretched her arms and legs like a cat after a nap. Then a sensation ran through her like adrenaline pumping from every nerve and synapse in her body. She felt more alive than she should, especially after a conk to the back of the head. She vibrated, not intensely, but enough to recognize. “Dammit, Jaxx.”

It meant one thing. Jaxx was near. If it weren’t for his blood, she’d be a normal human. Her pineal gland would resemble the size of just about every human on Earth. And whatever powers this gland released in her never would have been. Why it enlarged when near Jaxx remained a mystery. Before she left the Secret Space Program due to near fatal injuries, burned to a crisp, face deformed, her skin like rough sand paper, she enjoyed her regular, albeit, adventurous existence. A pilot, a captain, she’d battled extraterrestrials on worlds too top secret for even the President’s eyes. She docked with Star Carriers only the one percent were privy too. But after she crashed, after her skin went through fiery hell, Slade fixed her with advanced tech years later, and for his gain. Everything was always for his gain. She was his lab rat, she figured.

But for a short, flitting moment, she no longer considered herself abnormal, her body healed to near prime condition, her skin smooth and pink. That normal disappeared around Jaxx, and back to abnormal she went. Because of this abrupt adrenaline sensation, the freakish energy spike, Jaxx had to be nearby.

She closed her eyes, trying to locate the prick. She saw an energy trail, leading from one room into another. She followed it with her mind—her pineal sixth sense—then hit a psychic wall and everything went white. Perhaps she wasn’t psychic enough to see that far—however far she was from him.

The walls bare, monitors lined against one wall. All black. Nothing displayed as if Slade or the scientists left her here to rot. But they didn’t. She’d be six feet under by now if they wanted her dead. Perhaps they kept her strapped to get to her later, and experiment. A window on another wall with chairs on the other side, computers, and more monitors streaming data she couldn’t make out, cemented her thought.

She located a door. A control panel similar to the ones in the SSP, Secret Space Program, was on the wall abreast the door.

“I’m out of here.” She hopped off the table.

She stepped toward the door, punched the green open button on the lower portion of the panel, and the door whooshed open. A corridor stood in front of her with a window in clear view, revealing a star-filled night. It didn’t take her but a second to know where she was. “Space. My home away from home.”

She took a step into the corridor, fists at the ready, glaring through the window. Mars, off in the distance gave off a brilliant yellow-tan halo, stars highlighted around it. She stopped. Could she trust her senses? They’d done so much to her when they held her in Underfoot Black. They could make her hallucinate a space ship approaching Mars before they’d even had their damned breakfast. They were manipulative assholes, every last one of them.

Footsteps came down the hall. “You ever heard of security cams and motion detectors? Get back in your room, Rivkah,” Captain Richard Fox, her old squad leader, grimaced. The man never spoke. He snarled, spat, barked, and glowered. He wasn’t capable of civil interaction. At least, not with her. He was made of spite and malice, at the cellular level. He raised his stun rifle, the two other soldiers behind him held their rifles toward the floor.

She turned, getting into a Mui Thai stance. The angles of her feet rotated and faced Fox. He walked toward her, his eyes cold.

Rivkah put her hands up in a fighting position, her right elbow and forearm close to her body to protect her solar plexus, liver, and ribs, her right fist close to her cheek bone; her left arm away from her centerline, also protecting the ribcage and solar plexus; her left fist at nose level.

She could feel Jaxx close by. And her odd powers fueled, sending more secret-sauce into her blood—whatever that secret-sauce was. She needed to get to him. Feed off him, tank up, drain his power source and take it into herself. She was a woman on a mission. But right now, she had to eliminate Fox to get to Jaxx. Heck, they both needed to be eliminated. The message was as clear as any idea she’d ever had in her thirty-two years alive. Fox was a speed bump on her road to Jaxx, and Rivkah Ravenwood had no time for speed bumps. She ate speed bumps for lunch.

“You looking for some action, Foxy?” She spat on the ground and Fox halted, his free hand in a fist. His men stopped.

Fox aimed, and slipped his finger through his trigger guard. He smiled.

Rivkah didn’t smile back.

3

Starship Atlantis ~ M-Quadrant, Solar System

The Lectern beeped. Fleet Admiral Lon 'Wolf' Varnadore of the Secret Space Program appeared on the hologram. His black hair slicked back, he eyed Colonel Slade Roberson and President Craig Martelle, a wolf sizing up his next prey. He beamed a fake smile Slade saw through. “Mr. President. It’s nice to meet you. Colonel, nice to see you again.”

Martelle adjusted his tie and nodded by way of greeting.

“The mission has changed, gentlemen,” said Lon.

Slade cocked his head to the side, his back straightening. “What do you mean?”

The hologram shifted from Lon’s face to a massive ship orbiting Callisto. Jupiter, its luminous reds, tans, and turquoises, hung ominously in the background, its immense bulk dwarfing everything nearby, including Star Carrier Star Warden.

Lon’s voice boomed, “This footage reached us only minutes ago.”

The camera zoomed in on the ship, passing through the ship’s exterior armor, swiftly moving past the hanger deck and into the engine room. It zipped through the entire floor, recording crew members in their bunks, the mess hall, and at their duties, then looped through a lobby and into the launch bay. There it stopped for a nano-second, perhaps a glitch in the network, then moved to the officer briefing room and up into the bridge.

Slade adjusted in his chair. “Why are you showing us this?”

“As you know, gentlemen, that’s Star Warden, one of three Star Carriers in the Secret Space Program fleet. It’s impenetrable. Or, so we thought.”

Slade leaned in to get a better look at Admiral Gentry Race now on the screen, someone he knew very well, but wasn’t too fond of. “Why are you showing us this, Fleet Admiral?”

“Let the holovid explain.”

Star Warden’s bridge shuddered and Gentry fell to the floor. The camera view shifted to the ship’s exterior, panning from Star Warden to Callisto, then racking focus on the turrets moon-side as they blasted electric-blue fire orbs at Star Warden, hitting it with ease. Star Warden returned fire. Plumes of rock, destroyed turrets, and dust filled Callisto’s atmosphere.

Slade sat forward in his chair and glowered.

More turrets popped up from Callisto’s surface as if the moon had an unlimited supply and unlimited power. Missiles poured from Star Warden, PC’s and tracer fire followed. Still, the turrets continued to pop up and fire back, hitting the mammoth Star Carrier.

Slade and Martelle watched as a piece of Star Warden’s armor slid back on its starboard side. It exposed a large nuclear war-head.

A blue-light surrounded the Star Carrier, enveloping it in an energetic net, electricity flinging off the ship, like lightning grasping for something to touch.

Callisto’s cannons let loose beams and electric bolts, landing deep inside the war-head.

The war-head exploded, slicing the upper portion of the ship in half, like a knife through butter.

The president covered his mouth and looked away as the crew poured out of Star Warden. Slade figured Craig imagined the Secret Space Program had taken that ship and that crew the stars to discover sentient societies to advance humankind, not scatter them throughout space. Craig knew little. He didn’t know about the Secret Space Programs pacts and treaties with other advanced civilizations, didn’t know the amount of resources they plundered from planets unknown. And Slade would keep it that way as long as possible.

Slade stayed focused, his eyes dead set on Admiral Gentry Race spinning away from Callisto, his arms and legs flailing like someone drowning, grasping for something, anything.

Then he saw someone out of the corner of his eye enter Callisto’s atmosphere and fall away from the camera’s view. A young woman. He knew her—XO Katherine Bogle. He was glad he didn’t have to see her burn up in Callisto’s atmosphere. She worked hard for her position. She pulled her bootstraps up whenever necessary, and he liked that in a person.

Lon’s face came back on the holoscreen. “Callisto fought back.”

Martelle cleared his throat in obvious shock. “I see why you want to change the mission, Lon.” Martelle’s face flushed, his hands slightly shook. But the politician, the president, practiced his craft well and maintained a calm voice. “But, I’m sorry, Lon. We take it to the next level. I’m not backing down. I made a promise to the American people. I’m going to bring them to that new shining city on a hill. We are going to found a New United States.” Spoken like a true politician. An idiot. How much Martelle believed this astounded Slade.

“We’re not fighting against a known enemy, Mr. President. We’re fighting against a military with technology more advanced than our own. We’ve spotted anomalies on Callisto that would suggest an AI—an Artificial Intelligence—runs the entire city and weapon infrastructure on that moon. That is more dangerous than anything we’ve ever encountered. A computer-based system that hasn’t been touched by man or any other Being to restrain its intelligence evolution can outwit and out-build us in a heartbeat. We’d need a long plan to take Callisto. We’d need a fleet, an army, and enough nukes to blast their AI into the stratosphere.”

Martelle fidgeted with his suit. “Are you saying that the hostiles are AI based?”

The hologram cut to a statue of a woman with a device around her ears. The coiled device went around the back of her head, glowing a blueish-white. “That’s the AI,” said Lon. “Princess Leia...that’s what we’ve been calling her. We haven’t detected any other intelligence on that moon. It’s run by one statue.”

“That seems easy enough. We target the statue,” said Slade. “Once the target is down, the AI is then eliminated.”

“To get to the statue would be the issue. Yes, we could attempt to bombard it, but we don’t want to risk unnecessary lives or crafts. You just witnessed one of the three biggest ships in SSP’s fleet blown out of the stars. What you perhaps couldn’t see was Leia anticipating our next move. We never had the upper hand. We never had a fighting chance. They don’t just outgun us, they outwit us at every move. In under five minutes, ten-thousand lives were lost, Mr. President. We suggest…leave it be and find another home, or go back home altogether.”

Martelle sat straighter in his chair, his hands folded in his lap. “Admiral Lon…can I call you Lon?” Not that he hadn’t already.

Lon dipped his head.

“Thank you.” Craig steepled his fingers together. “Now, Lon. As president, I’ve taken the biggest risk any president has ever taken—I’ve evacuated my office, the entire government and their families, to come with me to a place that will allow for a more peaceful transition into a new United States of America with a government that keeps our forefather’s sacrifices intact, along with their ideals of a Republic; ideals on which the Secret Space Program was initially founded.”

Lon didn’t blink. Hell, didn’t act as if he cared.

Martelle continued, “As you know, the president doesn’t just preside over the citizens of our country, but over the military as Commander in Chief, as well as the Commander in Chief of the Secret Space Program. Eisenhower was ahead of his time when he created the SSP. He put an Off-World Power Act in place, allowing the president of the United States to seize control of the Secret Space Program for ninety days until Congress deems the Act allowable or unnecessary.” He paused again no doubt to see if Lon understood the situation.

Lon remained expressionless. He was probably used to politicians who he thought totally missed the point.

The president leaned forward and closer to the camera. “You’re under my command, Lon. What I need you to understand is we’re going to Callisto.”

Lon nodded. “One last thing, Mr. President.”

Martelle nodded.

“Princess Leia has been transmitting a message. Star Warden didn’t have time to decode it, but we have.”

“Excellent,” said Martelle.

“It says, ‘XO Katherine Bogle, call Kaden Jaxx home…’” It was Lon’s turn to let the information sink in. His audience was, predictably, silent. “That’s right, folks. The AI on Callisto knows Jaxx and Bogle by name. Now, want to tell me how we’re going to outwit them?”

4

Starship Atlantis ~ M-Quadrant, Solar System (Near Mars)

Starship Atlantis. He was really, truly on Starship Atlantis, a cruise ship in space, but a hundred times bigger. Jaxx stood in front of a holographic kiosk, Slade next to him with his arms crossed at his chest, and watched the Public Service Announcement for the fourth time. He bit his lip, only now understanding why everyone—from his room to the first deck’s lobby—stared at him like he was a Hollywood A-List celebrity.

His own face jumped out at him from the PSA which ran like a soda pop commercial. “Archaeologist Kaden Jaxx, the man who knows pyramid power inside and out, will hook us up and hook us into the pyramids, giving all of us electricity. It is he who figured it out. It is he who will bring you light. It is he who will give you the luxuries you deserve. Kaden Jaxx!”

President Martelle’s image popped up on the hologram, jolting Jaxx back to reality. “This message has been approved by the President of the United States.” Martelle’s hologram smiled, his teeth glistening a pearly white—far whiter than they should have been. “When you see him, thank him. He is the reason we can live safely on Callisto, and the reason you and your family will have a beautiful new place to live.”

A futuristic house spun across the kiosk’s holographic frame. “The future is now and your home awaits. Imagine amenities, such as your own self-cleaning pool; compliant, double-safety-locked robots as butlers and maids; and don’t forget, your very own rock waterfall smack dab in the middle of your living room. Or, you can choose...”

“Let’s go, Jaxx.” Slade turned on his heels and headed to the ops room.

Jaxx followed, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the kiosk. “You’re telling these people that they can live on a moon that you have never visited, that hasn’t been tested other than by a satellite. It’s a lie.”

“Those pyramids have an energetic signature that’s off the charts, Jaxx.” He leaned his head to the side, veins bulging out of his thick, reddening neck. “Don’t play with me, Jaxx. You’re going to do what you said you could do.”

They strode up to the central ops room. Jaxx slammed his hand against the door, keeping it shut. A power rose in him, and he swallowed it down. The kind of power that could rip off a door. He enjoyed the intellect it somehow brought him, but not the raw violence, the uncontrollable fire he’d seen in Rivkah. If he could keep one side of the ability at work while shoving down the other, he’d be good with that.

If anything, he didn’t want to scare the scientists, didn’t want to freak Slade out again. And didn’t want the nutcase stigma that came with it. “Those were theories.” His voice was low and urgent. If only he could get Slade to understand his position and turn the damned ads off. “Yes, I think the theories and the blueprints are sound. Have I ever turned a pyramid on? Hell no. You don’t just mosey up to a car and rebuild its engine because you have blueprints on how to rebuild it, especially when you’ve never worked on an engine before. You need the three E’s, experience, expertise, and erudition evolution.”

Slade frowned. “Those are four E’s, Jaxx. Two of the E’s are in this room and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about with the two other E’s, but they're probably in that room as well. Now, get your goddamn hand off the door.”

Jaxx lifted his hand and Slade pulled the door open, pushing Jaxx in first.

The room was full. There were more scientists than Jaxx remembered, plus a window, something he didn’t have back in the Underfoot Black ops room on Grenada. Man, but that felt like it was a lifetime ago, though it was only a matter of days since they’d been underground, on Earth, studying an impossible moon…and here they were, much less than half-way there already. So, he’d been kidnapped and taken into space against his will. Worse things had happened.

The thrum that had struck him earlier, hit again, making his entire body vibrate. It was a song, of that he was sure. It had a melody he’d never heard, notes he hadn’t known existed, and words he could barely hear, but it was building in him, this song. And teaching him a new way of…

“Welcome back, buddy.” A small, bulbous man with a receding hairline patted Jaxx on his back. He held a smile and a beaming aura.

Jaxx couldn’t help but grin. “Jon Shaughnessy.” He gave the guy a hug. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

Shaughnessy looked down at his belly, pursing his lips. “At least you aren’t seeing me in my skivvies, this time.”

Jaxx frowned, extending his hand. “About that—”

Shaughnessy waved him away. “No, no. No need to apologize. I know you were in a predicament and couldn’t do anything about it.”

Jaxx relaxed, his shoulders dropping. Rivkah had forced him into Shaughnessy’s room at gunpoint when she was trying to escape Underfoot Black. It was very decent of Shaughnessy not to hold a grudge.

“Well, where is our computer station? I heard you need help?”

Shaughnessy motioned to a station. “Your throne, sire.”

“Find anything interesting?”

Shaughnessy shrugged and leaned in, whispering. “I just can’t figure out half the shit I’m supposed to figure out. I’m faking it the best I can, but you’re the only one I know who can get the majority of these hieroglyphs from sight to paper.” He pointed a finger at the screen, showing Jaxx an icon. “Click on that one.”

Jaxx nodded. “Got it.” He clicked on the icon on the computer’s desktop and pulled up a glyph. “Where is this one located on Callisto?”

“It’s one of the first taken. It was written on what we think is a landing pad of some kind, just north-east of Princess Leia. And since we haven’t had response from TECS IV satellite in a while, we’re trying to figure out older images we kind of tossed aside as can’t-understands, which is technical-speak for no-fucking-clue.” He checked to see if Colonel Slade was listening.

The colonel gazed out the window into deep space.

“In a way, it’s a load off our backs to have their satellite down for a while. We don’t have to hurry through everything like we did when TECS IV was taking pictures daily. We’ve had more time to assemble glyphs and study them. There’s a series over here I…”

Jaxx tapped the computer screen and gave a soft whistle to get Shaughnessy’s attention back to his question.

Shaughnessy pushed his glasses farther up his nose, squinting. “Yeah, that’s what we think is a landing pad. It’s a big glyph, extending across the entire pad. There are a couple more pads on Callisto with the same hieroglyph.”

Wings, or what might be glyphs of feathers, surrounded a six-pointed star etched in the middle of the landing pad. Carved inside the star were Atlantean symbols; an arch, a bird, and a bird inside a doorway, an ancient eye off to the left of that bird, along with three planets, which to Jaxx were clearly Earth, Mars, and Jupiter. Next to Earth sat another smaller star with more hieroglyphs inside, also surrounded by feathers. Identical, albeit smaller stars, surrounded by feathers were spaced out directly between Earth and Mars, the third star right next to Mars’ magnetosphere. Three more identical hieroglyphs were positioned similarly between Mars and Jupiter, in the same type of configuration and distance.

Jaxx frowned. He knew what he looked at. He dropped his hands to his side, sighing. He didn’t know if it was a good idea to tell anyone. He’d only seen this once before, but on a pyramid-shaped granite piece found somewhere near the Great Pyramid of Giza and now tucked safely inside a museum that no one visited. Even if someone had stumbled into that museum, to get out of the heat and press of the Bazaar, and accidentally come upon that granite piece, they’d see no explanation of what it was, except the name, 'The King’s Sarcophagus'.

He pressed his finger on the screen, touching the glyph with the bird inside the doorway. “That’s not a doorway, by the way. That’s probably what’s screwing you up.”

Shaughnessy squeezed his shoulders together. “Yeah… yeah. I… uh… didn’t even know it was a doorway, actually. I was just shooting for the moon with that, trying to impress Slade.”

“Don’t let him know you’re faking anything. He’ll shoot you on the spot.”

Shaughnessy yanked his ear, clearly uncomfortable. He looked everywhere but at Jaxx. “I helped build the TECS IV satellite. I at least have that as some leverage, if I ever need it.”

Jaxx nodded. Leverage would get Shaughnessy only so far with Slade. “Anyway, the hieroglyph of this doorway isn’t actually a doorway. It’s a hieroglyph of the sarcophagus in the Great Pyramid’s King’s chamber.” He studied it a second longer. “Usually, you see a person depicted inside the sarcophagus glyph. This, on the other hand, has a bird. A bird symbolizes flight.”

He heard the note again, deep inside his chest. It was getting louder, more insistent. He closed his eyes in an attempt to ward off the spins. A word rose from the pit of his stomach. A word he’d thought about, dreamt about, written about, and taken hours and hours of ridicule for.

Portal.

Jaxx broke out in a sweat. “Any computer with sophistication beyond these computers? One that can quickly map and detect vortex energy?”

“The Lectern,” said Shaughnessy.

“Where’s that?”

“There are two. One on the bridge and one in the Admiral’s Quarters. I could ask Slade to let us use his for a moment.”

Jaxx dismissed the idea. “No, no.” He didn’t want Slade to know that these were portals; ways to move from one galaxy to another, in nanoseconds. Or from one location in the Solar System to another location. Again, in a nanosecond. If anything, he wanted to delete the glyphs off the entire ship’s network, so Slade couldn’t get to Callisto any sooner. The guy was willing to take the entire United States government and all her top scientists, along with their families, to what was essentially the wild west. In space. Without confirming whether the 'wild west' had breathable air.

If there was a glitch or something wrong with any calculation or formula that went with the glyphs, and Jaxx didn’t know about it, he didn’t want Slade to blindly lead the ship into a star portal disaster, perhaps crashing them straight into an asteroid belt, or worse yet, a black hole.

Another thread wound around his worries. It was a worry for the Beings on Callisto. There had been no reports of sentient life on Jupiter’s moon, but Jaxx was certain that Callisto was inhabited. Quietly, carefully, deliberately inhabited.

By humans. More specifically; Atlanteans.

Jaxx sat at his station, pulling up another glyph. He needed to find the calculations and the right star-set that told him how to activate and use these star portals. And then he’d have to get into the Admiral Quarters…without Slade’s permission.

Again, the note that entered his body and activated some latent learning system inside him, boomed through his brain thanks to his pineal gland. Maybe the gland acted as some type of extrasensory antenna, able to pick up waves made for geniuses.

He looked back at the glyphs on his screen. He’d always had a knack for decoding them, but they were no longer symbols requiring translation. They were a language he understood, fluently. And, boom. There it was, the next image on the pyramid—an instructional ideogram. A snake, a DNA strand, a right triangle, and two knives, which meant frequency. Then, a backwards 'L', a lower case 'j' with an oval dotting the 'j', and a slanted equal sign, all meaning numbers; 5, 100, 8.

If Jaxx was correct, and he’d bet his right hand he was, the moment before entering the star portal, the radio comm line frequency in a ship had to be dialed to 51008.

The ops door opened and a man in fatigues hurried inside. “Colonel Slade Roberson.”

Slade turned. “What it is?”

The soldier and Slade convened for a moment. Jaxx couldn’t hear them, but he knew instantly that Rivkah had broken out of her cell. He extended a chord of light from his center to hers and wrapped her in his protection. If it worked, he had no idea. Somehow, for some odd reason, his body and mind acted on its own accord and just 'did' at that instance. In his mind’s eye, she tried to shake him off, but he wasn’t going to leave her unprotected while these jackals hunted her down.

Slade took quick steps into the corridor, the door sliding shut behind him.

Jaxx looked at Shaughnessy. “Do you have a way to access the Admiral’s Quarters now?”

“I do, but I don’t.”

Jaxx knew what he meant. “Show me.”

5

Charlotte, North Carolina ~ Earth

Jaxx’s nephew, and world-class journalist, Drew Avera watched the news, his unused bong in his hand. He’d been ready to take his first toke for several hours, but somehow never made it to that first, blissful hit. His bong just didn’t sing to him like it had before he’d been to Portland, Oregon; before he’d witnessed his mom’s murder.

The world was split in two; there was 'before' and there was 'after'.

And 'after' sucked ass.

It had been several days since the funeral. A funeral only a few Tanner Spring Assisted Living Facility employees cared to attend. Drew was the only family member in attendance. No surprises there. His mother had cut herself off from her friends and whatever family they had left when she pulled her whole, “I am demented and don’t know my own ass from my elbow” routine.

Drew tried to pin the murder on the actual murderers—the G-men who hovered around his mom since the whole 'government evacuating to Callisto' debacle kicked off—but without a working government, and the country in panic-mode and soon to be chaos, he knew nothing would come of it. He’d have to wallow in his anger, exact justice on his own. He’d cracked the so-called 'evacuation' story and he knew damned well he could crack the mystery surrounding his mother’s murder.

Who wanted her dead was simple, his no-good, shit-for brains father; Colonel Slade Roberson. But why? The woman had spent the better part of thirty years faking her own dementia, to stay off Slade’s radar. She’d only stepped up as a good mother to help Drew out of a jam. He hung his head. No matter how he spun it, her death was on his hands. He reached for his lighter, packed the Mellow Kiss-kush into the bowl and settled in for a bong night.

He leaned back against his sofa, papers strewn on the floor and coffee table. He wasn’t relaxed though, half-watching a replay of a rocket carrying the last of the government personnel off Earth soil and to the stars. And with the same story; “They’ll be back for us.”

They wouldn’t. That much he knew.

Why is the military just standing idly by? Shoot those bastards out of the sky.

In truth, what could they do? Could NASA stop them? Maybe NASA was part of the entire United States government evacuation in the first place?

This was all too far-fetched, but somehow real. The world couldn’t believe it if it didn’t happen right under their noses. He took another hit. He needed to get his brain to stop spinning and his nerves firing in all directions.

World News Network's Connor Eves spoke on the tube. His white teeth shone, though his eyelids crinkled in worry and swollen with little sleep. “That was rocket fifty-eight on our count. It left Earth’s atmosphere four days ago, being the last in our ongoing story of Event Hightail.” He looked down and squeezed the ridge of his nose. “In the words of so many famous journalists and reporters, may God help us now.”

It went to commercial.

That was a little dramatic, thought Drew. Why aren’t I being more dramatic?

He took a long, leisurely bong hit, easing up the ball of anger growing in his heart.

He perspired, not from the shock of the day, of the week, or a month of nearly being killed on several occasions, or watching the news, or his mother dying. It was another record heat day. Maybe there was something to this global warming thing.

Yes, it was getting hotter. No, it couldn’t only be because of humans’ atrocities with the environment and fossil fuel addiction. Or, could it? It’s not as if the United States government stuck around to find out. They left. No warning. No public announcement other than letters. And no help for the rest left behind.

Nothing new. Government as usual.

“Drew?” Laura, Drew’s mom, walked in from the kitchen, arms folded across her chest, lips pursed. He’d been having these hallucinations since she died. He didn’t know if it was because of the amount of weed he’d been sucking into his lungs or if it was because his brain, his mind, his body was trying to cope with her death.

“Care to put that bong down?” She stepped over a pile of clothes and grabbed a hold of the bong, setting it down on the only bare spot on the coffee table. “It’s time to go.”

He stared at her, open eyed, mouth agape.

He decided to talk to her this time, though he knew this was a figment of his own imagination. Maybe his brain would answer for her, would give him the explanation he needed. “You think you could have told me? Maybe gave me a warning? A hint that you didn’t have Alzheimer's this entire time? I could have gotten to know you.”

Laura put her hands on her hips. “We can talk about this on our way.”

“On our way? Way to where?” He shook his head. His mind wasn’t cooperating. Drew sat up, his nostrils flaring. “No, we talk about this now.”

Her tone softened. “Who knows what would have happened to you or to me had Slade known I didn’t have Alzheimer’s?”

She would be dead long ago, like she was now.

She bent over and tossed a shirt on Drew’s lap, tapping her foot. She held her chin high. “Get packing. We have a long road ahead.”

“A long road where?”

She stiffened. “I know you’re a genius and all, but what about not having a government hasn’t gotten into that genius brain of yours? Who is going to step into the power vacuum? And, by God, who is going to restore food flow, electricity, and water if that goes offline? There are a million scenarios in play here, Drew. We need to act swiftly. You’re the one who’s going to make it safe for humanity.”

She vanished before Drew could respond. He laughed so hard he blew snot out of one nostril. It was just like Mom to say he was going to save the world.

“Not the world, Drew. The world can take care of herself. You need to worry about humanity. We’re teetering on the brink of self-annihilation. You’re the only one who can stop what’s coming.”

He took a hit and looked back at the TV.

WNN news started again, Connor looking deep into the camera lens. “As the stock market plummeted yet again today, we have more sobering news. Reports are coming from our agents in China claiming that China has amassed a large fleet and is sailing out of Zhanjiang. Chinese President Biming Chen was there to witness the spectacle, calling this 'a historical event'. The North Korean leader, Kim Kye Kwan, was by his side. Chinese President Biming Chen never made clear which historical event he was speaking about.” He cleared his throat. “As of now, we don’t have any reports as to where the fleet will be going or why. All we know is that this is the largest fleet to ever leave the Zhanjiang Naval Base. Our attempts to contact China, Russia, and Britain for any information in regards to the fleet have been met with silence.”

“They aren’t wasting any time. We are free game,” Drew said. His mom didn’t reappear, but he knew he was supposed to go somewhere; do something. Reluctantly, he put down his bong and got dressed. “Don’t say I never listen to you, Mom. I’m listening all the time.” He slipped his sneakers on. “Now, where to?”

6

Starship Atlantis ~ M-Quadrant, Solar System

She felt Jaxx lasso her heart. Buttmuncher. Was it longing? Did she miss him? No, she hated him. That turd, Kaden Jaxx, had gone through weeks of deep-regression, remembered all the shit they’d been through when they were up against the half-human, half-lizard freaks known as Kelhoons, but still failed to offer up an apology. He could take his 'cord of protection' and shove it up his backside.

Rivkah ducked as Fox pulled the trigger, a stun dart zapping past her ear. The electric charge stung as it whizzed by. She rolled as another shot popped out the stun rifle, missing her.

She jumped to her feet. Another shot and she flipped, avoiding it, inching closer to Fox like a gymnast with a mixed martial artist’s heart, the special pineal gland abilities quickening her reflexes, focusing her mind more.

The other men took aim but it didn’t matter. She dodged again and again. Rivkah focused on the team’s focal point; Fox. He stood in the middle, two soldiers at his sides. She pulled up every emotion she had: her father’s verbal assaults when she hightailed working for him at the construction sites and went straight to the Navy; her first step into Disneyland and the wide-eyed childhood glee when she went on the space rides; the time she actually had an attraction to the weasel Jaxx; and more. She screamed and blasted it toward his solar plexus, flinging her hands outward as if throwing everything she could muster.

It knocked her back, the intense force too much for her too handle. It came from her without thought, without her own will, as if the power controlled her. She landed on her back, and slid, her shoulder smacking into a wall.

Dazed, she pushed to her feet and shook her head. “Dammit, Jaxx. What did you turn me into?”

Fox lay on his side, and the men had tumbled backwards. He twisted and pressed his palm on the ground, his rifle in the other hand. She jumped and kneed Fox in the chin, “Oomph!”

She swiped the rifle and pulled the trigger several times, connecting point blank to everyone in the chest. Their bodies writhed and twitched, temporarily paralyzed.

She dropped the weapon and pulled off Fox’s badge and flipped it over. There was an ID chip on the other side. It might come in handy. With a weak movement, he reached for it. She kicked his arm to the side. “Close those eyes of yours, Foxy, and sleep for a while.” She smashed a blow against his temple with her free hand.

He kicked at her and she tumbled slightly, but righted herself. He sprang to his feet and threw a wide, arcing punch. He connected to her lip, and blood flew. She reeled back as he spun into a roundhouse kick. She ducked, the rush of the shoe slicing through the air, missing.

“You’ve got a little kick in you after all, old man.” He wasn’t much older, but she knew men hated that term.

She twitched. Her heart pumped and skipped a beat, the strange power coursed through her more as if someone turned up the volume. She screamed as her muscles convulsed and spasmed. The lights above sparked and shattered. Glass fell on top of her.

She twisted, and slammed an elbow across Fox’s cheek. He dropped and rolled to the side, bumping into one of his own downed men.

Rivkah blinked as her vision faded. Then black. She backed up, her back against the wall. “What the hell?” She rubbed her palms over her eyes and opened them. Her vision had changed and she now peered through Jaxx’s eyes. He was hacking through a corridor three stories up, bent on a mission of his own. The cord he’d created between the two had tripled in size. He was calling on the energy of the stars to rage through him and feed her need. He was with her, in this fight. She felt a sharp pull, a magnetic draw to him. She had to find him. To do so, she had to end this with Fox, and right now.

Her vision returned and Fox stood, bent over and breathing heavily. His chin down, his eyes up. “What in the world are you? A science experiment gone wrong?”

“Probably.”

He heaved and lowered his hands then glanced at his help. Useless. He grimaced. “Now, Rivkah. Calm down. We’re not going to hurt you. You’re on a starship and—”

She lunged forward and jabbed him in the face, glancing his nose. His head whipped back.

“The hell you weren’t going to hurt me.”

Fox wiped his nose with his thumb, then rubbed the blood off on his shirt. “You know what? I’ve about had it with you.” He unsheathed a knife from his belt and held it out in front of him.

“That’s going to backfire, Fox. I suggest you turn around and walk the other way.” She lowered her eyes, ready for the kill.

He lurched forward, thrusting with his knife.

Rivkah kicked low and away, avoiding the thrust, hitting him in the stomach and knocking the wind out of him. He dropped the knife and landed hard on the floor, gasping for breath.

She heard heavy boots coming. More soldiers. She went for one of the stun rifles and snagged it into her hands. She backed up and ran around a corner.

The footsteps pounded louder. Men shouted orders. They’d come upon Fox and his men. He’d point in the direction she went.

She waved Fox’s badge over a control panel next to a door. It opened, and she ducked inside. The door shut.

Outside the room, the elevator doors hissed open. More footsteps, more soldiers. She closed her eyes and let her mind race after the newcomers. She stopped on someone’s energy signature she knew well. He was a brute of a man; ambitious, bloody, not to be crossed.

Colonel Slade Roberson.

Fox paced the floor, hand on his shoulder radio communicator, barking orders. He let his finger off the device and curled his lips. “I’m done with her, Slade. No more experiments. I’m going to slit her throat if it’s the last thing I do.”

Slade crossed his arms. “You’re done with her? I asked you to keep her in her goddamn room. Under your watch she has escaped every freakin’ time.”

“You can’t keep a wild animal caged, Slade. You need to put them down.” He touched his forehead. “One between the eyes.”

Slade leaned in, eye to eye. He spoke slowly. “Listen to me and listen clearly. You lose her again, you lose your job. Understand?”

Fox flattened his lips and inhaled sharply. “Aye, Colonel.”

Slade leaned closer, lips next to Fox’s ears. “And, Fox. Shoot to kill. But, most importantly, keep her brain intact.”

Fox gave him an odd look, nodding.

Slade pulled away. “We can at least experiment on Rivkah’s pineal gland and whatever else Doctor Donny had on his clipboard before he died. I have another scientist studying Donny’s notes as we speak.”

Commotion came from down the hall and Fox pressed on his comm device. “What do we have?”

“Sir, we’re scouring the halls. We don’t have anything.”

He pressed the comm device again. “We have a new order. Shoot to kill, but aim for the chest. We leave her brain in one piece.”

Rivkah opened her eyes and slid into a cooling duct, disappearing from view. They might want her glands or whatever, but they were going to have to catch her first. And no one catches a ghost.

7

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

“Admiral Quarters is past the grand deck lobby and the President’s Suite.” Shaughnessy tipped his head to the side. “Follow me.”

Jaxx’s steel-tipped shoes echoed off the walls of the lobby’s alabaster marble. He slipped his shoes off and padded after Shaughnessy, hoping his sweaty footprints would evaporate as soon as they’d cleared the grand deck. Wouldn’t do to leave a trail. They snaked through swanky hallways and past Doric columns which held up plaster friezes of the ancient gods. Zeus reclined, in his usual way, on an insubstantial cloud; Poseidon stormed the churning waves with his trident at the ready; and Aphrodite graced their path with rose petals, limes, pomegranates, and sea shells. Someone had spent a lot of damned money making sure the corridors leading to the Presidential Suite looked suitably presidential.

“We’re here.” Shaughnessy perspired and looked more pasty than usual. The side of his neck pulsed in fast succession.

“How are you going to get us in?” said Jaxx.

Shaughnessy punched in a code. “I hacked his code the first hour on the ship.” He grinned, sweat dripping off his cheek. “I hacked the President’s, too.”

The door opened and slid upward. Stepping inside, the door closed behind them. “Why would you hack their codes?” said Jaxx.

Shaughnessy shrugged as they crept deeper into the Admiral’s Quarters. “Because I could.”

In front of them was a Lectern, something Jaxx had never seen before. It was round with computer chips, lenses, and lights sitting under a thick glass.

Jaxx rubbed his hands together and looked over his shoulder and at the door. Slade was on his way. He’d left Captain Fox to hunt Rivkah and headed towards them. “Hurry. Turn it on. Slade’s heading this way.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Now, speed it up.”

Shaughnessy nodded and put his hand under the table and the display lit up, a holographic image of a keyboard and folder icons projected above the table.

Jaxx looked over his shoulder again, pinching the ridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes tight. “I don’t know what I’m looking at.”

“Patience.”

“I don’t know if I have time for patience at the moment.” Jaxx’s heart picked up speed. He didn’t know how, but Slade felt closer.

Shaughnessy touched an icon. “We just pull up the terminal.” He typed something to the right of the command prompt. 'Adaptive Boost'. A new icon appeared inside the hologram, one with a rainbow of lights turning into a spiral. He moved his finger over the icon, tapping on it, his finger partially going through. “This will detect energetic anomalies. It’s like a space Doppler system, detecting Alfven waves, which are magnetic waves from coronal mass ejections from the sun. In a sense, it locates any possible space turbulence, or plasma turbulence, that this ship may pass through and tells the ship’s captain where to steer clear.” He snuck a look at Jaxx. “That’s what you’re looking for, isn’t it? You’re looking for energetic anomalies that suggest a portal…”

Jaxx was impressed. He’d always known Shaughnessy was smart, but he’d seriously underestimated just how smart his friend’s brain ticked. He hadn’t said a word about believing the glyphs indicated a potential portal, but somehow Shaughnessy had worked it out on his own.

Jaxx smiled. “Do you think the captain or anyone else sees any vortexes from this Doppler program?”

“If they saw energy that swirled in one place, then you betcha they have. My guess is they don’t know what the hell it means because they aren’t scientists, so they’d just steer clear of it...” He pressed on another holographic icon. “Here, I’ll show you the Alven waves.”

Jaxx glanced at the door. “No need. Just have to know exactly where those vortexes are.” He tapped his finger on his leg, willing Shaughnessy to pick up the pace.

Here Jaxx was, taken from Earth and onto this flying cruise ship to steal him to Callisto. He’d figure out the pyramid power blueprint and Slade and the politicians would live happily ever after on his back. But Callisto most likely had inhabitants. In Jaxx’s mind, ancient Atlanteans populated the Jupiter moon. Currently, he didn’t know for sure. No steel bullet proof evidence. But if so, whether they were hostile or not didn’t matter because Slade no doubt had it in mind to take out whatever stood in his way. If by chance establishing a new government, a new world bothered the Atlanteans—if they existed—a war may ensue. And Jaxx doubted Slade and these cronies would survive, unless Slade had something evil up his sleeve. And the more Jaxx got to know this guy, the most likely Slade did.

All of this seemed too much for Jaxx. It happened so quickly, so he took a deep breath. He couldn’t get out of this mess at the moment, so slowing the craft down by potentially masking any energy anomaly may be his best bet. Until he figured out what to do next.

“You really think we need to do this?” asked Shaughnessy.

“The scientists may have learned from my models. If they decipher what I just did, they could send us to Jupiter now.”

“I don’t know, Jaxx. Would save us a long trip.”

“What if people resided on Callisto? Do you think Slade would be all open arms and excited? No. He’d want them out of the way so they didn’t interfere with his plans. I know the guy. He gets what he wants, when he wants, and if he doesn’t, he finds a way. And that way usually involves some type of violence.”

“If people are on Callisto now, they no doubt have more fire power and better technology than us. Slade wouldn’t gamble everything he’s strived for with a fight.”

“That’s why I need to understand his plan. He’s got an ace up his sleeve, but what is it?”

“We don’t even know if there’s a presence on that moon anymore?”

“There’s a lot we don’t know, so we search.” Jaxx gestured to the Lectern.

The hologram displayed Mars, stars, and waves of energy pulsing off the ship’s course. Shaughnessy jabbed a finger at one of the energetic waves. “Those are Alfven waves. Imagine plucking a guitar string. You send waves up and down that string. That’s what you’re seeing right there, except a finger ain’t plucking that string. The sun is.” He swirled his finger on an energy pattern next to Mars. “And you see that?”

Jaxx’s eyebrows rose. That had to be a vortex—one of the star portals. It spun clockwise. It was faint, but there. “The vortex.”

Shaughnessy smiled. “Yep, your star portal.”

Jaxx eyed the door yet again. He swallowed. Slade came nearer. “How do I map this and keep it on hand?”

“And do what with it?”

“Actually, if I want to see the map in a starfighter, how do I put this in a helmet’s system or in the starfighter’s holographic display console?” There had to be a reason the Secret Space Program had taught him to fly starfighters. Perhaps this was it. Perhaps it was finally coming together. Perhaps he was the bridge between Callisto and Earth? He was the one who would bring a lasting peace?

Shaughnessy shot Jaxx a look, his lips pressing together. “Don’t do it, Jaxx. I like you better alive than dead.”

“If I can investigate before everyone gets there, the better.” Jaxx put his hands on his hips. “Or, better yet, if I need to escape or if all hell breaks loose and the ship is falling apart, you and I can get out of here in a transport craft and slip through one of those star portals. I can fly these things, you know. Like a damned boss.”

“All right.” He let out a loud sigh. “The Adaptive Boost program is in every craft, though no jock pilot ever uses it. Just command the holographic display for Adaptive Boost. The program will come up.” He leaned on the edge of the Lectern, accidentally pressing a button.

The display beeped on. An admiral came on the holographic screen.

Jaxx lurched back, waiting for the admiral to ask them who they were, what they were doing, and why Slade wasn’t in the room. Instead, the admiral was already in discussion, as if they had accidentally joined in on a three-way call.

Jaxx turned his ear toward the screen. He could hear two other people talking in the background. He listened intently. It was Slade but he couldn’t make out the other person. They were talking with this admiral.

Jaxx jabbed Shaughnessy with his elbow. “What are we looking at?”

“A past recording of—” Shaughnessy’s chin nearly hit his chest as the holovid relayed pictures of a ship breaking apart above Callisto.

The holovid blipped out.

Shaughnessy shut the Lectern off, his face pale. “Let’s get out of here.”

“Did you see that?” Jaxx grabbed Shaughnessy by the shoulder.

“I saw a fleet ship going down in flames. I saw guns, strafing, blasters, nukes.”

Jaxx’s breaths shook. It wasn’t that the ship had been blown out of the sky. It was that panel, sliding off the side of the ship; the nuclear warhead easing its way out of the dock. “We have to warn them. We have to warn those on Callisto that we’re coming for them.”

Shaughnessy’s went rigid. “I’m sorry, Jaxx. We can’t. I can’t allow that. They were hostile. They blew up that big ship. We don’t know—”

“They were provoked.” He rubbed his palm with his hand. No doubt a civilization existed on Callisto, and now. The truth of it nearly overcame him and dropped him to his knees. His heart leaped, and his tears began to well. Callisto took down a human vessel. That should be his sadness, the reason the tears collecting at the base of his eyes. It horrified Jaxx that it wasn’t. The fact that Atlanteans lived on Callisto was more than he could bare, and as a tear streaked down his face, his shoved down a smile.

“How do you know they were provoked? They downed a friggin’ Space Carrier.”

“We sent a nuclear warhead.” Jaxx’s eyes darted around the Lectern. “Pull up anything that may be a nuclear warhead on this ship.”

“No. We have to warn Slade and turn tail.”

Jaxx’s eye brows rose. “Slade was on the call. He saw it.”

Shaughnessy’s shoulder’s drooped. He bit his bottom lip. “Holy shit. He saw it. No doubt in my mind.”

Jaxx grabbed Shaughnessy by the shoulders. “We have to warn them that the Secret Space Program is coming. You have to listen to me. People’s lives are at stake. An archaeological treasure is at stake. We have to—”

Anger overtook Jaxx and his emotions boiled, juicing through his veins. A guttural yell came from his belly. He lifted Shaughnessy off the ground and flung him toward a wall, slamming him against it. Shaughnessy’s head whipped back, his eyes closed as he slid down the wall and to the floor. His head slumped to one side.

“Oh my God.” Jaxx fell to his knees, out of breath. “How did I do that?” He reached for Shaughnessy but was too far away to touch him, to help him. His arms and legs trembled, out of strength, out of energy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

The door opened. Slade walked in then stopped mid-stride. “What in the name of all that’s holy are you two doing in my private quarters?” His slack face quickly hardened. He strode across the room and slammed his foot down on Shaughnessy’s neck. “Give me one good reason not to kill this good-for-nothing worm.”

Jaxx, on his hands and knees, and breathless, pushed out words with all he had. “We found something, Slade.” He dropped to the floor, his forehead against the cold tile.

“What the hell did you two find that required you to break into my room?”

“Listen, leave him alone.” Jaxx turned and rested on his back, his breath fast and shallow. “He’s the only one who knows the whole code.” Jaxx lied. “And we need him if I’m going to decode the rest of your stupid glyphs.”

Slade unholstered a sidearm. He drew it close to Shaughnessy’s head. “Not good enough, Jaxx.”

8

Charlotte, North Carolina ~ Earth

Drew took a drag, holding the ganja smoke in as long as he could. He’d only made it as far as the door before turning back and heading for his couch. No one in their right mind believed their dead mother when she told them they’re supposed to trek out into the High Sierras or wherever it was she said he was supposed to go in order to get a message from his Uncle Jaxx, so he could steer mankind to its next 'platform'.

Even his hallucinations had started using weird vocab. It was good fun, as long as he didn’t take it seriously. He exhaled and stared at the popcorn ceiling. He should write a book. People loved this kind of conspiracy stuff. He put his nice, plump doobie to his ever-ready lips and took a long, hard inward-facing breath.

A message popped on his laptop screen and Drew almost coughed out a lung. Starwanderer3—Michael Anderle, the ex-NASA weapons specialist—the converse-wearing geek and hacker friend from the darknet. The problem was, Anderle was supposed to be in prison.

The message was coded:

Mo...Cha...Tse...D-ha...D-ha...Tse...A-chin...A-kha...A-kha...Ah-tad...Tse. Next line. Ah-jad...A-kha...A-kha...Jad-ho-loni...A-kha...Shi-da...D-ah. Next line. 1...1...6. Space. Ne-as-jah. Space. Nas-pas. End dialogue. Do not reply.

Drew’s mouth dropped. His joint landed in his lap. He slowly picked it up and placed it on the coffee table without taking his eyes off the screen, reading the code Anderle had sent. It was a Navajo code, though changed in Hijax Hacker Format, HHF. Anything starting with an 'A' could have a completely different meaning or mean exactly what it purported to mean. It depended on the last letter in the message. The last word was 'reply', the last letter 'y', which meant 'A' was not changed. It read, “Chattanooga. Next line. Lookout. Next line. 116 Owl Way. End dialogue. Do not reply.”

“You mother trucker. You want me to go to where?” The problem with Hijax Hacker Format in Navajo code was that the numbers were always changing and if Drew was still up to date, the 116 actually meant 994, and the Owl meant Eagle. And Way stood for Street. He was to go to 994 Eagle Street, Chattanooga, Tennessee, Lookout.

He leaned against the couch’s armrest. “Was that Lookout Mountain?”

It had to be. Or was Anderle telling Drew to lookout for that area? Or to simply look out, someone is coming for you? Drew semi-knew Anderle and Anderle would send a more distressful code if he was in imminent danger.

“Do not reply” also meant urgent. That was hacker for, “Holy shit, get your ass here immediately. We have a bitch-storm on the way or in progress.”

In any case, Anderle needed him and needed him at that location now. But why?

“I said pack. Now.” His mom stood in front of Drew’s TV. “You wouldn’t listen to me. You’d best listen to him.”

Drew yelped and slapped his palm against his chest. “Dammit, you got to stop doing that, Mom.”

His mom faded away, but not before tutting and raising her eyebrows. She’d said more to him since she’d died than she had in the last fifteen years of her life. He eyed his empty luggage bag near his closet. It was never put away. His life as a World News Network reporter meant he was always on the road. The problem was that Drew hadn’t heard from WNN in a while and probably never would again, seeing how many companies were shutting their doors from the downturn in the economy. He didn’t know if Hobbs Howell, his boss, was out of a job either and if so, if Drew would be on the chopping block. Right now, it didn’t matter. Reporting was the last thing on his mind. Anderle, on the other hand, needed him. He had helped Drew leak the GSA story and now it was Drew’s turn to return the favor.

He stood and picked up a pile of laundry off the floor, not knowing really if it was clean or not, and shoved it in his luggage bag. Did it matter? It was a crisis. All he needed to do was get gone.

A car skidded to a halt and yells pierced the air—profanities. He froze. Worried that his mom would make a reappearance and kick his butt, he hurried around another pile of clothes, waving the smoke out of his way, and opened his curtains a slit.

Two men in hoodies stood in front of a car, each with a crowbar in hand. A thicker, smaller man was behind the vehicle, also in a hoodie. A woman in the car shook her head, screaming bloody murder. A small child sat in the back, no doubt scared shitless.

A thug reared back with his crowbar and slammed it against the car light, shattering the plastic casing, the bulb erupting, glass pieces falling to the asphalt. “We need your car, lady.”

Crap. Drew rolled his eyes. He didn’t want to, but he had to. He ran to his closet, rummaged for a wooden bat signed by pro baseball player, Mike Trout. A prized possession. Something that would be worth thousands some day—if the United States didn’t fall into oblivion. Yeah, scratch that. It was a piece of nicely-shaped wood now, nothing more.

Bat in hand, he opened his front door, hesitating for a half a step. It had been three days since he put his trash can out for the garbage service, but it sat on the sidewalk, pizza boxes poking out of the lid. His neighbors and their neighbors’ cans had been tipped over by the wind and pecked over by the crows. The entire street was strewn with banana peels, yogurt containers, dog food cans, and Playboy magazines.

Drew hadn’t paid attention as he’d been hunkered down, eating black cookies with white fillings, stoned beyond belief, not realizing changes were taking place in his neighborhood as well. What he observed on the news was just that: news. News happened 'everywhere else'. It didn’t happen in his back yard, on his street, while he chowed down and got high.

A woman’s scream shattered his dreamy survey and sucked him right back to his doorstep.

Shit.

They pulled the woman out of her car.

He didn’t want to deal with this. He was happy and content in his own smoke screen.

Why did she unlock the damn door?

“Hey,” said Drew. He tried for a mature, manly voice, although what emerged was distinctly pubescent and unconvincing.

The men turned, chests thrust outward, fingers gripping their crowbars, ready for someone to dare confront them.

“What the fuck you want?” said one of the men, eyes like a tiger about to catch its long-awaited meal.

Drew walked on his yard, catching his black Mazda Protege parked on his driveway out of the corner of his eye, and slowly put down his bat, his other hand up in surrender in a don’t-kill-me type of way. “Don’t hurt them. Let them out and take their car, but please don’t hurt them.”

The man at the rear of the car kicked the bumper. “What you gonna do? Huh?” He thrust his arm toward the woman. “We need her and her kids.”

“For what?” asked Drew, his hazy, weed-induced mind succumbing to curiosity, his heart trying to race, but his Maui Wowie intoxicated blood not allowing it.

The man shrugged, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. “For whatever the fuck we want. That’s what.”

The woman kicked at one of her would-be abductors. “Leave my kids alone.”

She was Puerto Rican, or at least her accent made it seem so, along with her skin tone, black hair, and powerful attitude. She was short, but strong, her will even stronger.

The man tossed her against the car. He pinned her with his forearm, lifting the crowbar over his head. She pushed back, raising her arm, ready to catch the crowbar if it came down.

“Kick me again, lady…I dare you.”

Drew put his hand up and took a weary step forward. “Stop. Money. How much do you need? I have some.”

The man eased his weight off the woman and she fell to the street, then crawled to the car’s back door. She yanked the door open and pulled her kid out, clutching him to her chest. He whimpered and his eyes darted from his mom to the men. Her daughter slid out from behind her brother, not making a sound. She found her mother’s hand and clutched it tightly.

A thug pointed his crowbar at Drew. “And do what with it? Buy something?” He looked at the other thugs and laughed. “If you have food and supplies. You can have these idiots.” He shoved a thumb at the woman and her kids. “But you’re not getting her car.”

The woman, her infant son on her hip and her daughter firmly in hand, shuffled across the lawn and stood next to Drew. She eyed his bat.

Drew shook his head. If she went for the bat, then all hell would break loose.

She bent down to soothe her son. “It’s okay, honey. You’ll be fine. You’re safe. Mommy won’t let them hurt you.” She ran her fingers through his hair. She trembled and wiped his tears as she clenched her teeth. Drew could imagine the murderous thoughts she had.

“Well?” said one of the men. “Shall we come in?” This one was sophisticated, his demeanor was that of a professor.

Drew stepped to the side, motioning them to take whatever they wanted inside his home. But the weed, not the weed. He forgot about the weed.

He rubbed the back of his neck, realizing his mistake. He should have just gone in and got them some supplies and had it done with—maybe that would have worked.

He took a step closer to the woman. “Are you okay?”

“What am I going to do? How am I going to drive and get there? My husband said west. We gotta go west.” She frantically wiped her son’s hair, his face, whatever she could get her hands on.

“I can drive you. I’m leaving soon and going west as well.”

She paused, eyes welled. “Thank you. It’s far. It’s a safe place.”

A safe place already? What the hell happened while I was inside?

The men came out a moment later with a few bags of bread, some cookies, and a bowl full of fruit and vegetables. Drew had brought a bunch of food home from the funeral. He had no idea it’d be in hot demand. He’d let the world slip away and unravel a little. He needed to buck the fudge up. Mom was right. He needed to do something.

The Professor jangled a set of keys in his hand. “Thank you for your car.”

Drew stiffened, then walked toward the man, his heart skipping a beat. He needed the car, even more than his dank.

The man swung the crowbar at Drew. Drew back peddled. “All right, all right. Take one car. But leave us the other.”

The man grinned. “Hey, Sal. You think we should give them one of our prized possessions?”

A man, who must be Sal, sat in the woman’s car. “Nope. Not a chance.”

The two cars gunned down the street and out of their lives, leaving Drew and a mother and her two children, eating their dust.

9

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Callisto

This isn’t happening. I’m going to die.

XO Katherine Bogle had been ripped out of Star Warden by the vacuum of space, the mighty Star Carrier torn apart and buckled in on itself. She’d told Admiral Gentry Race not to do it, not to deploy the nuclear war-head at an unknown civilization on a Jupiter moon. On Callisto.

He did. And it backfired.

You killed your crew. You killed yourself. You killed me.

Three seconds into the void of space and Bogle hurtled toward the Callisto atmosphere. She closed her eyes and clamped her mouth shut. If she kept them open, her eyes and tongue would boil, like Arnold on Mars in 'Total Recall'. Or so she thought. Without a space suit, she’d feel the worst effects of space and she’d rather pass out before those effects took hold; her lymph, bladder, and blood would double in size, her lungs would rupture, and she’d freeze to death. Then there was the approaching Callisto atmosphere. Consciously burning up wasn’t something she wanted to experience, either, even if she had about twelve seconds of conscious life left. If that. If she wasn’t conscious when death grabbed hold, when it took her final heartbeat, the better.

Five seconds and the deep-freeze of the cosmos would engulf her, the oxygen inside her expanding, her body ballooning.

Gentry, the diabolical jerk, pulled the trigger and she paid the ultimate price for his sin. Nearly ten-thousand of Star Warden’s crew paid the ultimate price for his foolishness.

Eight seconds.

In eight more seconds, she’d pass out. At least, that’s what physics class had taught her. And in less than a minute, after she passed out, her trachea would collapse, she’d asphyxiate, and suffocate to death.

Just do it now. God, please take me. God, please. Don’t torture me.

Twelve seconds and a warm liquid surrounded her, as if she’d fallen into a pool. Instinctively, she opened her eyes. She was under water. It was thick and spongy, with a tinge of amber.

This isn’t water. What’s happening? Is this death?

She heard a splash that wasn’t her own. It was the type of splash you heard when you were in a pool and already underwater. Hands—white gloves, and white sleeves—reached for her.

An angel. An angel came for me. I’m going to heaven. Thank you, God. Thank you.

Her faith ran deep and wide. She’d always known God would not abandon her. She reached for the gloved hands as they reached for her. As their fingers met, the etheric Being’s face came into view.

No, that wasn’t a face.

She lurched back. A white helmet, black visor. That was no angel. Was this a demon, a taker of souls?

“No,” Bogle shouted, bubbles exiting her mouth, escaping to the surface. She flailed, kicking and scratching and snapping at the demon. The thick liquid slowed her attempts, like a boxer fighting in a ring of Jello.

The demon reached for her, grabbed her arms, its grip firm. It reversed course and swam in the direction from whence it came, pulling Bogle along with it through the molasses-thick liquid. Bogle swung her hips around and kicked, landing a solid foot against its stomach.

The demon didn’t waver, continuing to pull her in the direction he chose.

She pulled her arms toward herself, attempting to bring the Being closer. Maybe a knee to the groin, if it had a groin, would do the trick. She shoved her knee where it counted. A sharp pain shot up her leg as the demon brought his knee up and deflected her attempt. He dragged her onward.

Was he taking her to the devil? Why was she destined for hell? Why would God allow this to happen?

No. She was a good person. She tried to stop Gentry. She did good in the face of wrong. Maybe hell had been her destination all along? Even before the nuke, before Gentry destroyed his own ship, before she enlisted in the Secret Space Program.

She closed her eyes and prayed. She’d repent, throw herself on the will of God. That’s all she had left.

She exploded out of the liquid. She took a long gasp of air, coughing and spitting the viscous goo out of her mouth and nose. The Being threw her over its shoulder and carried her, her body jostling up and down as it walked.

“What’s…” she coughed. “Going…on?” Her eyes darted left and right, the goo interrupting her vision.

The Being bent down on one knee and gently rested Bogle on her back, then rolled her onto her side.

Bogle vomited, all the contents of good and evil leaving her, and memories surfaced—the times she’d gone to church and embraced her Lord and Savior; the time she spent all day preparing a Thanksgiving feast for a homeless shelter, the smiles she saw, the happiness for giving, for being in service to others, for giving hope to those who thought hope was all but gone. But was it enough? A few good deeds and wham! Bam! Thank you ma’am! Heaven?

Couldn’t be. She’d seen so much wickedness and done so little to stop it.

And, then the evil flashbacks, memories she stuffed down, wishing them away forever, the ones she’d almost forgotten. She vomited hard and deep, remembering the time she didn’t listen to her boyfriend, wouldn’t talk to him because she was “too busy” only to find him hanging from a rope a half hour later, pale as death.

The time she beat the ever-living shit out of her younger sister for being “in the way, all the time.”

She vomited again and again, images sliding in and out of her awareness like a PowerPoint presentation, leaving her with no energy. No emotion.

But breath…it left breath.

She rolled onto her back and blinked, the stars of the galaxy twinkling through a rectangular opening in the ceiling. A gossamer-thin fog spanned the gap. Did she fall through that fog? How? She glanced around, coughing more. Lights everywhere. To her left, a flight console and a view screen off in the distance. She was in a ship.

The contents of the pool drained and the Being stepped to her side.

Bogle expelled a quick breath and sucked as much oxygen as she could, desperate to right herself and crawl away.

Across the room, in letters three-feet tall, a message flashed on the viewscreen. “Call Kaden Jaxx home.” Bogle blinked. She had to be hallucinating. None of this made a lick of sense. But there it was; the message Princess Leia had been transmitting to the stars. “Captain Katherine Bogle: call Kaden Jaxx home.”

10

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

Rivkah dropped from the vent and into a small cupboard. She waited for ten whole minutes before jimmying the latch and easing the door open. The room, which wasn’t large, was dominated by a work table. In the center of the table, there was titanium armored suit.

She felt him, before she saw him. He must have heard her when she was in the ductwork, because he hadn’t made a sound and had managed to sneak up behind her. She spun about to face the asshole before he could get a drop on her.

He licked his lips. “Hi, Rivkah.”

Rivkah pointed the stun rifle at the man. He was thick, almost a foot and a half taller than her, a scar across his cheek. “Who are you?”

He put his hands up and walked closer. “Put that down, Rivkah.”

“Step any closer and your head turns into a bloody mess. You’ll be dead before you hit the ground.” She stepped forward, tightness in her eyes. “Or, keep coming. I don’t care.” She aimed at his head.

He knew she wasn’t joking. This was Rivkah. She didn’t know what a joke was. He stopped. “Well?” He cocked his head toward the titanium suit. “Aren’t you going to apologize?”

She glanced at the suit then back at the man. “SA Nick Cole?”

“You guessed it. You really screwed up my suit, Riv. You owe me an apology.”

Screw that. Rivkah Ravenwood apologized to no one. “How did you get on this ship?”

He tapped his temple. “My helmet was un-fazed, so I was able to track Slade on Grenada and convince him to take me along for the ride. Then we came after you and that traitor Jaxx. You see, I’m quite handy.” He dropped his hands and leaned back against the table. “I was like a gift dropped straight from heaven for our Slade pal.” He grinned. “And, sorry about your head.”

She went to touch the back of her head, still slightly throbbing. He did this? No. It was Slade. She saw his face before she blacked out. Or, maybe it wasn’t; just a figment of her imagination. It didn’t matter. “Where is the launch bay?”

“Why? You planning on running again? Flying your ass out of here?”

Rivkah didn’t respond because he was right. One minutes she could be out of her and so long ship, so long Jaxx, so long everyone who screwed with her life.

Cole laughed. “The same old Rivkah. When you’re not doing so well, you quit and run. Run to your little Jaxx boyfriend?” He mimicked running with his index finger and middle finger. “Is that what your daddy told you to do when he learned you joined the military? To run away if you get in any trouble? He didn’t want your sweet ass to get a scratch, to burn like you did?”

Whoopa.

Rivkah pulled the trigger, the stun dart sizzling past his head.

Cole instinctively ducked, though the shot was wide on purpose.

He stood and turned. The dart sparked in the thick, metallic wall. “You didn’t like that, did you?” He straightened and gave her sarcastically innocent eyes. “Daddy issues?”

Her heart hardened and she bit her cheek. Blood trickled into her mouth. “Either tell me where the launch bay is or you’re a sizzling pile of human flesh in a matter of milliseconds.”

He leaned back against the table again. He slipped a tool in his hand. He shook his head. “Rivkah, you’re so violent. And that’s a stun weapon. How about—” He threw the tool at her, his reflexes fast. But she saw it coming. She dodged and pulled the trigger. Cole ducked and rushed her.

She shot again and Cole rolled, sweeping Rivkah’s legs out from under her. She lost grip of her gun and flipped onto her back. The stun rifle flew out of her hand, clanked loudly against the floor, slid across the room and hit the wall.

He came down with a fist at her throat. A kill punch. She caught it and squeezed, then kicked him away. With her new Jaxx-power-strength, she hung onto his fist like a hook in a fish, even after he jerked back from her foot’s impact into his stomach. She pulled him down as she leaped, her head against his chin.

He crashed against the table, his titanium suit tumbling against the ground. Metal against metal echoed in the room and Rivkah ran over to her weapon, taking aim but he was gone.

The table was on its side; the only place he could hide. She held her rifle out and rounded the table with caution. She’d just put a few darts in his chest and be on her way.

“Don’t shoot, Rivkah. Please. I’ll tell you where the Launch Bay is.”

Yes, he was behind the table.

“What deck?” She knew he wouldn’t tell her. He was the type of soldier that would rather die than divulge anything to an enemy, even if the enemy only needed to know where the toilet paper was.

She came around. Blood oozed out of his mouth. He held a few teeth in his hand. “Nice, Rivkah. I respect a woman who can kick some ass.”

She pointed the rifle at him. “Why aren’t you on Star Warden? I’m sure Slade would have let you leave this ship and find your way back up Admiral Gentry’s ass.”

He started to stand, then Rivkah shot a dart at his feet.

He stood anyway, wiping the blood from his lips. “It’s DAWD.” DAWD was a Secret Space Program term for 'Dead as a White Dwarf'.

She jerked back, shocked to hear that a Star Carrier, let alone Star Warden, had been blown out of the cosmos.

Like a flash, Cole snatched his titanium suit and bull rushed Rivkah.

Rivkah jumped back, firing several shots, the dart’s electrical output sending shocks through Cole’s hands and down his wrists. He held on, pushing forward, pummeling Rivkah, smashing her between the suit and the wall.

All the emotions trickled from her heart and through her body. She failed again and she was so damn tired of failing, on the losing end of every stick. She crouched and lunged into the suit. “Enough.”

Cole was thrown back into the table, the titanium suit hitting against the ceiling and then the floor.

She fixed him in her sight, the stun rifle against her shoulder, her finger on the trigger. “Bye, bye, Cole.” She pulled the trigger over and over. Too many bolts and the guy would never get up again, like a death sentence in an electric chair. She made sure to sink too many bolts, and watched the evil bastard’s life drain into the next.

11

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Callisto

Bogle awoke on a hard floor. The smell of roses wafting in the air. The Being loomed. He wore a long piece of white fabric like the ancient Greeks wore, held in place by hefty pin at the shoulder and a futuristic belt full of colorful buttons around its waist. A rose in his hand, he extended it to her.

She shook her head and slapped the rose out of his hand. It was a trap, a trick, a way to get her to let down her guard. It was the devil’s work, tempting her with simple beauty. She didn’t want the thorns of death anywhere near her.

He reached into his tunic and pulled out a purple hexagonal crystal about the size of a quarter. He crouched, touched his chest with the crystal, then pointed at her.

Her stomach clenched. What did he want? Was he going to incinerate her with a flipping crystal?

He touched his helmet. The air hissed as if a seal unlocked. Then he slipped the helmet off. Definitely a man. Sandy-blond hair, gleaming blue eyes, the guy had a short mustache and beard. He was healthy. Beyond healthy. His skin glowed and he moved fluidly.

He held out the crystal with one hand, pointing to her chest with the other. He spoke, his tone strong, “Locus de pectore.”

Bogle’s wrinkled her brow. “I don’t understand.”

Soft beeps came from the bridge. Computer-like holographic displays were set back into what appeared to be a large cockpit. The cockpit window was just above the displays, and the remnants of Star Warden floated in the distance in front of Jupiter. The planet’s tan-glow lit the dark void all around.

Her stomach jumped to her throat and she vomited again, remembering the dying, spinning men and women sucked out of the Star Carrier. Everyone, dead. No doubt in her mind. But her status was up in the air. Was she dead or alive? This must be hell, or some weird afterlife she wanted no part of. She needed to be strong; to keep the faith.

The man narrowed his eyes; his brows down in concentration. “Locus de pectore.”

She shook her head and wiped the vomit from her lips. “I don’t—”

He leaned forward, quickly placing the crystal on her chest, right up against her sternum. A sharp sting pricked at her. She yelped, then relaxed as a calm vibration moved up her neck and into her brain.

“I wanted you to place the crystallo fabrica on your chest,” he said. “But as we have little time, I took the forward step and placed it for you. I hope you forgive my intrusion.”

She scooted backwards, surprised she understood him. At a safe distance, she stopped. “Wha… who… ?”

He smiled and touched his heart, pulling down his cloth to reveal his bare chest. The same type of crystal was attached to him. “A crystallo fabrica energetically connects into your heart and to the superior temporal gyrus of your brain—your communication area. There it rewires your synapses, allowing my communication to become your communication, and vice versa. As you can see, my voice is my voice, but my lips aren’t moving in sync with the words you hear.”

She touched her chest and pressed on the crystal. It gave her energy, vital life. She was just as afraid of keeping it on as she was of taking it off. No longer did she think he was a demon. She was immersed in peace, in calm. Maybe that’s what demons do, how they draw you in and take your soul—with trust.

She scrunched her face and pulled away. “Where am I?”

“You’re on my craft, Telu Ignis. I was able to save your life. Any later and you’d have died.” He spoke matter of factually, though with a tone of compassion.

“Who are you?”

He pounded his chest, one warrior to another. He stood straight, proud. “In my language, I am Stellam Matu, in service to the Law of One and to all Beings across the Galaxy. In your language, I am Grenik Star.”

She touched her chest, her palm against the crystal. “I’m—”

“I know who you are, Katherine Bogle. Welcome to Atlantis Alta. I’ll be taking you to my home city, Aurora Diluv. Or in your words, Flood of Dawn. We’ve been waiting a long time for you. You will guide Kaden Jaxx and the others home.”

12

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

Rivkah pulled the trigger twice. Two guards hit the floor, their arms and legs twitching like maniacs.

“Piece of shit rifle,” she said under her breath, wishing her weapon had a kill function.

She pulled the trigger again. “Idiots. Never learn, eh?” She downed another guard that ran into the room, trying to be the lone hero of the group. If they kept this up, the guards would pile up at the door, twitching out of commission, lying on top of each other and trapping her inside. She knew that would never happen, but the way these grunts were trained, anything was possible.

A rubber bullet ricocheted off a wall and to the floor, zinging past Rivkah. She ducked and rolled to another wall. Getting on one knee, she aimed her gun at the doorway. A misconception about rubber bullets were that they don’t kill. From Rivkah’s experience, they maintain a ship’s structure well without poking holes, and do kill at these current dialed up speeds.

A guard poked his gun through the entrance, his fingers were exposed.

Rivkah spoke in a whisper. “There you go. You’re learning. You don’t just run into the scene of a battle.” She felt the trigger against her finger and pulled.

“Agh!” the man dropped the gun and most likely writhed on the hallway floor outside.

A grunt’s heavy boots shook the floor behind her. Stunned how he snuck inside, she turned to see a soldier in a full out run. Weaponless, she quickly identified him as someone she’d sent to the floor in convulsions earlier, now semi-recovered. Earlier, she’d also bent his arm to the side, broken. His other arm dislocated. He attempted to bulrush her with his shoulder, pain racking his face from his previous run-in with her.

She jumped as he dove at her. His head skimmed the bottom of her feet as she pulled her knees toward her chest and grasped the rafter above. She pulled herself onto the cold metal with one hand, the rifle in her other. He stopped short of a wall and gazed up just as a shot of electric stun charges lit him up.

“I’m also a good aim, you prick,” said Rivkah.

He sunk to the floor, eyes closed, slobber dribbling out of his mouth.

She hopped onto a beam parallel with the top of the door frame and directed her rifle at the door, taking cautious, slow steps. Once directly above the door, she crouched, ready for more guards to burst through. If they were smart, they’d stand pat out of harm’s way and wait her out. Rivkah smiled. That wasn’t true. If they were smart, they’d be as far away from Rivkah as possible. The best bet? Back on Earth, on their couches, eating ice-cream while watching Firefly reruns.

And, as if on cue, a few dumb-asses ran inside, rifles in steady position—their rifle’s hand guards resting on the 'V' of their thumb and forefingers, the rifle butts firmly against their firing shoulders. Yes, they were trained to hold a weapon, but anyone could train a donkey to hold an apple in its mouth.

She jumped off the rafter, and elbowed a soldier in the chin. He fell into another guard and Rivkah pushed him forward, making sure he connected with his comrade. Shots rang out from inside the room and Rivkah bolted down the corridor, their shots barely missing her, rubber bullets cracking off the walls, denting the metal.

Across the way stood an open elevator beginning to close. Rivkah dashed toward the elevator and lunged forward. She managed to slip her wrist between the doors, and they opened in a hurry. She hurried inside and pressed deck four’s button. In most starships, the launch bay was located on that deck.

She leaned against the wall and eyed digitized deck numbers as the elevator ascended. She breathed heavily, her face dotted with sweat.

Deck 7.

Deck 6.

Deck 5.

The elevator shuddered and halted. The doors closed, she was somewhere between deck five and four. She tapped deck four and 'OUT OF SERVICE' blinked on the digitized display. They stopped the elevator.

She pushed the butt of her rifle against the emergency exit hatch in the elevator’s ceiling. It jostled. Locked. She hit it a second time. No give.

“Give it more elbow grease, Riv,” she told herself.

She twisted the rifle in her hand and smashed the butt against the emergency hatch again. The hatch loosened. She grit her teeth and grunted, forcing her will through the rifle as she slammed it square in the hatch’s center. The lock broke, the hatch opened.

A picture of Jaxx—his eyes closed, but more like in meditation—flashed across her mind. Her hands were laid over his and the two of them pressed hard, though she couldn’t see what it was they touched.

A ding and the elevator doors slid open. Rivkah’s eyes shot wide. She wasn’t between floors. She was at deck four. In front of her, a man in military fatigues, gun leveled. Rivkah leaped, grabbing the hatch’s frame and lifted her legs, her rifle dropping out of her hands just as the grunt’s shots rang out.

13

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

“You son of a bitch, Jaxx. I keep putting trust in you and you keep shitting all over it.” Slade holstered his weapon and crossed his arms. He stood over an unconscious Shaughnessy. Fox crowded the doorway with a smirk on his face.

“And look what you did to my quarters.” Slade motioned around the room. The Lectern was off its track, toppled over and spitting sparks. Paintings were off the wall, their frames broken, and in pieces on the floor.

“I saw it, Slade. I know what you’re up to.” Jaxx rested his palms on his knees, catching his breath.

Slade tilted his head to the side. “What in God’s name are you talking about, Jaxx?”

Jaxx pointed to the downed Lectern, perspiration dripping from his forehead, his arm almost too heavy to lift. He was weak, drained, and having a hard time catching his breath. “I saw a Star Carrier cut in half. People spilled out. And yet, you’re still going to Callisto? Turn this ship around.”

“Let me deal with this,” said Fox.

Slade put his fist in the air. “Not right now.”

Jaxx rubbed the back of his neck, a headache growing like a bad hangover. “What are your plans for Callisto?”

“I’m going to be straight with you,” replied Slade. “We’re going to make those assholes pay for what they did to Star Warden. No one kills my friends.”

“How are you going to do that? We don’t have the fire power.”

“Let’s just say I have some friends who are willing to help out.”

“Who? The SSP?”

Slade looked over his shoulder at Fox then back at Jaxx. “Doesn’t matter. Now, the question I have to ask myself...” He strode forward, unholstering his pistol, black, semi-automatic. “Are you with us or against us?”

Jaxx put his hands up and straightened. He cringed from the vice grip around his skull. What he’d just done—throwing Shaughnessy across the room, lifting the guy with some unknown force and tossing him like a weightless, receding hairline, pudgy pillow—must have sapped him for all he had. He wanted to crawl to the corner, find some blankets, and get some sleep. This is why he didn’t want to use this power. It raged from him out of control.

Slade popped a piece of gum in his mouth and chewed. “Last chance. With us or against us?”

Fox stepped through the doorway and halted in a wide stance, fists on his hips, elbows wide. He smiled, his eyes fixed on Jaxx. “Say you’re against us. Just say it.”

Jaxx put his hands on his knees and shook his head. “I don’t know what to say.” Dammit. It was the only way out. He didn’t know if Slade bluffed. And if he didn’t, Jaxx was a dead man.

Jaxx took in a deep breath, deeper than normal. Energy ran though him. He took another deep breath, this one more intense. He drew energy from that unknown source, that odd power. In his archaeological studies and in his linguistic career, the word’s prana, chi, and ki had crossed his path on several occasions. They all dealt with the subtle and powerful life-giving forces of the Universe. In a video, he’d seen an old Chinese Tai Chi master run energy. And no matter the strength of a man or the amount of men, they couldn’t move the master from his spot. Or when he watched a Taoist sage set paper on fire with mere energy coming his hands, and the same man punch a chopstick straight through a thick dining table.

Jaxx wondered if that’s what he suddenly had control over, or better yet, had control over him. Chi. Ki. Prana. Perhaps that energy filled him because of his more-open-than-most pineal gland sucked Chi into him on overdrive. Maybe that’s what tingled through him at most times and gave him these strong, strange abilities.

Slade walked to Jaxx. He leaned down, his lips close to Jaxx’s ear. “What don’t you know, Jaxx?”

Jaxx closed his eyes as Slade’s cold, minty breath brushed across his cheek. He wanted to shove Slade away. Jaxx wasn’t violent but he knew that the power that coursed through him was lethal. A power that loathed authority.

“I said, what don’t you know, Jaxx?” Slade pressed the end of the pistol’s barrel on the back of Jaxx’s head.

Fox growled. “Just do it, Slade. End it, now.”

The pistol’s pressure lightened as Slade turned. “Keep your damn mouth shut, Fox.”

“Not anymore, Slade. Do it,” replied Fox, stepping forward. “You’re compromising this mission by keeping Jaxx alive.”

Jaxx took another breath, the power rushing through him like a river pouring through a broken dam. He couldn’t believe how calm it made him, how confident.

“Stay your ground, Fox,” ordered Slade.

Jaxx squeezed his fists, his breaths coming faster.

“I’m doing what I wanted to do the day you grabbed him from Peru.” Fox took a few more strides and reached for Slade’s pistol. Fox grasped for the gun, his hands covering Slade’s. The pistol shoved Jaxx’s head forward.

P-taaff.

A gunshot went off, the lead bullet lodging into the floor next to Jaxx. He exhaled sharply and turned in a crouch, ready to leap into action and take names.

He didn’t need to.

Fox threw Slade to the ground, their hands and arms locked. They wrestled for the pistol’s sole possession. The weapon flung from their grip and slid away. Slade bared his teeth, somehow getting into a standing position.

He then went low and swiped a kick at Fox’s legs. Fox lost balance and landed on his side. Slade jumped on him, face red. The guy’s temper took hold, took over, and both fought like wild animals.

Fox kicked, landing a hard foot against Slade’s stomach. Slade rolled away and dove for the pistol. He snatched it into his hand. Fox leaped for him as Slade pulled the trigger.

“You—” Fox curled into a ball, hands tightly against his stomach. He moaned. “I can’t believe…”

Slade went to his knees, eyes wide. He frantically placed his hand on top of Fox’s to help stop the bleeding. Gun in his other hand, Slade pointed it at Jaxx. “Don’t just stand there. Get a medic—”

Before Jaxx could move, Slade stood and lunged at him and grasped Jaxx’s shirt. He shoved Jaxx into a wall and raised the pistol. Jaxx caught Slade’s arm, pushing Slade’s arm in the opposite direction.

Jaxx’s pent up energy rose from his central nervous system and blasted outward. Slade’s eyes widened, his mouth gaped as a force shoved him backward. The colonel went to get up and Jaxx took a giant step forward, sending a fist against Slade’s chin. The man closed his eyes and landed knocked out on the floor.

Clattering boots down the corridor pounded in Jaxx’s ears. He spun toward the open doorway. Troops rushed inside.

Jaxx motioned for them. “Colonel Roberson shot Captain Fox. Hurry. Fox is bleeding out.”

A few soldiers dashed Fox’s side. Fox’s breaths were shallow, and like Slade and Shaughnessy, his eyes were closed. The difference, his face was pale, his eyelids fluttering.

A man touched the captain’s neck, feeling for a pulse. “It’s weak and thready, but he’s hanging in there.” More men came in, surrounding the victim.

Jaxx slipped out of the room, passing several guards. “I’m getting a doctor. Move away, please.” He weaved through a couple more soldiers, barking, “Let me through. Gotta get a doctor. Move it.”

Jaxx picked up his pace, moving swiftly through the lobby. He kept his head low. He had to stop whatever invasion Slade planned. The discovery of a lifetime, Atlanteans perhaps, but pyramids, domes, obelisks, and other structures from an advanced civilization a definite, and he had to suck it up, and erase that potential from his mind. The wonders of what that society possessed, the new technology he could learn, the hieroglyphs he could translate and acquire information from, he’d have to forgo. For the sake of those inhabiting Callisto, for the sake of everyone on this ship, he had to turn this craft around. But most importantly, for the sake of a potential Solar System war Slade may cause.

14

Charlotte, North Carolina ~ Earth

Drew sat on his porch, the end of the world as he knew it on his mind. “How long are you going to stand there and not say anything?”

The screen door squeaked open. “Sorry, Sir.” It was the girl. She’d been standing there a while, too afraid to make a noise.

It was morning and Drew gazed down the road. The streets were bare, unhappy, his neighborhood nearly empty of neighbors who most likely fled this portion of the United States, or the entire east coast. He didn’t know.

“Mya is your name, right?”

The girl stood behind him. “Yeah.”

“How old are you?”

“Six.”

Drew patted the ground, asking Mya to take a seat. An abrupt sensation came over him. For a moment, he felt like the father figure he never had. A wall of responsibilities showed its ugly face on the other side of his mind. He pushed it away as fast as he could. Drew sucked at responsibility. The only thing he was good at sucking was a joint. “Where’s your mom?”

Mya sat next to Drew. “She isn’t awake yet, sir.”

“Is your Dad in the military?”

Mya nodded.

“Do you know how I knew that?”

The girl shook her head and picked at the ground. The poor kid. Drew imagined she had no idea what was going on, why her life had changed and what was next, where they were headed—if they were headed anywhere.

“Because you keep calling me, sir.” He pointed to the clouds. “I don’t like to be called sir, because that’s my dad’s name, Slade Isaac Roberson, and when you take his initials, it spells S-I-R, Sir. He’s the reason we have this fu...bad situation at hand. Please don’t call me Sir anymore, okay?”

“Oh...”

Mya’s mom pushed open the screen door. Her hair disheveled, her eyes swollen from crying, or lack of sleep, or both. “They shut off the electricity.”

Drew slumped. “Those motherfu...mean people. They couldn’t leave it on? They can’t give us people a break before we go insane and start killing each other before the coming apocalypse?” He was kidding—sort of.

“We need to jet out of here.” For the last few days that Drew had gotten to know her, she was a straight-shooting, no bullshit kind of gal. To the point. Not one of those annoying, ‘I’m going to question the crap out of you until you guess what I’m trying to get at’ type of people. He liked her. “We need a car. Did any of your neighbors leave one around?”

“I already checked. Nothing.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Camila, why didn’t you tell me your husband was military?”

Camila pointed down the street. “It doesn’t matter. He knows stuff and told me to take Mya west where it’s safer. That’s where we will eventually go. You can come.”

Dang it! He almost forgot. He had to go west as well. Anderle, his internet buddy and Converse-wearing genius, who was almost as smart as him—though he blew Drew out of the water in regards to computer smarts—needed Drew in Tennessee. How the hell was he going to get there? No car. No public transportation. And what were they going to do about food and water? He couldn’t trek across country with a woman and two kids.

Right on cue, the baby started crying. Hunger. They were all hungry. He had only a few scraps of food left. Time to get more.

Drew bit his lip. Not good. He had to think of something. “Where’s your husband?”

“The Coast Guard base over in Nags Head.” Camila frowned. “He’s a Marine. He’s been stationed there for what’s coming.”

“Who would station him there?”

Camila shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know who took over the White House or military operations. Whoever it was ordered my husband to guard the beaches. A lot of the military followed suit. Something is—”

Shhhhkbooom! Bratatat Ratatat Bratatat Ratatat!

An explosion and the sound of machine guns blared in the distance. Drew stood, prodding the girl to stand. His heart skipped a beat, then pounded against his chest. “Get in the house. We’ll get supplies. I’m guessing we gotta leave.”

“Do you think it’s them?” asked Mya.

Camila shoved Mya in the house and Drew followed closely behind.

“Who’s them?” said Drew.

Mya turned, her eyes wide and innocent, her lips trembling. “My dad said the cheese are coming.”

“Chinese,” corrected Drew. He could tell she was more scared for her father than the Chinese. She didn’t want her dad to die. Drew never had that feeling in his life and for a moment, he envied the kid. To have a connection, something tangible with his father was something Drew had always wanted. But his father was a dick. Potentially one of the biggest jerks alive. What lottery number did Drew draw to get so lucky? “Life is effed up.”

Camila rummaged through the fridge. “What?”

“Nothing.” Drew pointed to the top edge of the refrigerator. “Remember the first aid kit.”

Drew ran to his room, grabbing his duffel-bag. He slipped his laptop in it, just in case, then ran back to the fridge, opening it for Camila to dump as much food in there as she could. There wasn’t much.

“We need flashlights,” she said. “Blankets.”

Drew opened a kitchen drawer. “Mya, search in here. I’m pretty sure I have a flashlight.” Drew hurried to the door to the garage and threw it open.

He rifled through his recycle bin, picking up all the empty plastic bottles he had; Gatorade, two water bottles, and an organic orange juice container. That would do.

He raced into the house and to the sink, washing the bottles out and then filling them up with water. Was it still safe? Was the water plant running? He shrugged. They were going to die of something, some day. Might as well be contaminated water. At least they wouldn’t be thirsty. He tossed them into his bag and Camila dropped a few cans of beans, something Drew didn’t remember ever buying. But everyone had beans.

“Got the flashlight, Mya?”

Mya closed the drawer. “Just one.”

“Does it work?”

She nodded.

“Good. Now, go into my room and pull off my blankets. That’s all I got.”

Jikoooosh!

The house rumbled and Drew looked at the ceiling.

“That’s a military jet,” muttered Drew, his hands by his side, dumbfounded. They don’t fly over the city so low.

Jikoooosh!

Jikoooosh!

Two more.

They ran outside. A jet fighter was chased by two distinctively different looking ones. The one chased was American, the others? Perhaps Chinese. They were black.

Bratatat Ratatat Bratatat Ratatat!

Machine guns moved closer, only a couple of blocks away. They had to get going and now.

Drew picked up the girl. “Let’s go.”

Camila shouldered the duffel-bag, the baby against her hip. She raised her fist to the east and blew a kiss. “Vuelves vivo, mi alma.” She let out a deep breath, whispering, “I love you.” She spun around and faced Drew. “What’s your plan?”

“Follow me. Don’t get pissed if this doesn’t work.”

15

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Callisto

“Please, sit.” Grenik Star gestured to a seat next to his pilot’s chair. “We’ll head to Flood of Dawn’s Temple Gardens in a moment. Any objections?”

Bogle took a seat, her arms folded across her belly. She squeezed her stomach to keep as little of herself exposed to this guy as possible. She didn’t know why squeezing her belly would do the trick and keep her safe but she’d done it most of her life, probably to keep her womb shielded from all the young men who looked at her as a beauty prize, someone to show off in front of their friends, rather than the treasure her mom always told her she was.

She kept her mouth sealed, lips flat. She didn’t have any objections because she didn’t know what objections she should have. By now, everyone on Star Warden was dead. This guy, demon or not, saved her with his ship, Telu Ignis. She owed him her gratitude, not her fear. Nonetheless, her fear crept in. And what if she had objections? Then what? Push her out of the garbage chute and back out into the big, black void?

“I won’t harm you. I hope you come to understand this fact.” He sat in the pilot’s chair and a holographic display popped up in front of him. He tapped in coordinates and strange letters appeared on the screen. “Hold on.”

His ship veered right and dipped into the Callisto atmosphere. The ship engulfed in flames and in seconds the re-entry fire died down. Telu Ignis leveled out and a majestic city came into view. They approached the city, skimming over pyramids, domes, and obelisks in the process. Farms dotted the horizon, large and flat, full of corn, sunflowers, and lush ground cover. A hazy energy surrounded the farms, possibly to bring more light and heat to the plants. Robots in the hundreds tended to them, mechanical arms extended, tilling, picking, gathering.

Grenik pointed to a translucent, glass-like dome that covered a crater. Trees, smaller domes, rivers, and a lake were set deep inside. A small Earth.

A square door in the glass dome opened, big enough for a Nebula Class Star Cruiser to cross through. But Telu Ignis matched the size of a small transport and would slip through no problem.

Grenik pressed holographic buttons and Telu Ignis descended sharply. Another small craft, starboard side, flew passed them and through the opening.

“We’ll meet the Master soon after we dock at the Temple Gardens.”

That sounded ominous. Bogle shifted in her seat. “The Master?”

“Our Empress. At least, that’s how you’d classify her, in your vocabulary. We have no such designation. We call her ‘Master’. She is wise beyond years, beyond galaxies. She has led us for thousands of years.”

“Excuse me?” Bogle raised her eyebrows, tapping the crystal on her chest. “I think this device frizzled out. Did you say, ‘thousands of years?’”

His lips tightened. “Yes, thousands of your Earth years.”

She tapped her crystal again. There was no doubt it had a short.

Telu Ignis hovered above the Earthen paradise. Bogle leaned forward to get a better view. A tree fort. No, it wasn’t a tree fort. It was too big. Perhaps a home build high and around a tree. It was connected to another home by a wooden suspension bridge. Taking in the expanse, hundreds of homes spread throughout the forest tops, all linked by spindly, rickety bridges. Farther in the distance, dozens of high-rise towers shimmered in crystal and an avalanche of lily-like umbrella houses jostled and tittered on the breeze. Each time Bogle thought her mind had been turned inside out, there was another marvel to take her breath away. She didn’t want to be charmed. She wanted to hang on to her rage. She closed her eyes and sat out the remainder of the flight.

Grenik lowered the ship. Bogle’s seat bounced when the craft connected to the landing pad. A parade of people in Greek garb assembled around the craft, their voices silent behind the craft’s walls.

“This is for you, Captain Katherine Bogle. My people come to greet you. We have waited a long time.” Telu Ignis’s ramp hissed open, and clanked when it hit the ground.

Katherine Bogle, former acting XO of Star Warden, stepped out of the ship that had rescued her from certain death and into a sea of admirers.

Grenik Star gently pried away admiring fingers and steered Bogle through the crowd.

16

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

Shots rang as Rivkah pulled herself through the opening at the top of the elevator. Darts zipped by her—geared to stun, or perhaps kill. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. Screw them all.

She kicked the hatch closed. It broke and it flipped back as darts stuck into the hatch, splitting the air with electrical impulses. One slipped through and sunk into her shoulder, sizzling. Her arm and neck spasmed and convulsed. She pulled the dart out and tossed it, then she fell against the wall as her arm took on a pain of its own. She grabbed her new wound, and grunted, teeth clenched. She figured there would be more wounds before day’s end.

Thick red liquid iron soaked her finger—her blood. Odd. A dart shouldn’t spill this much blood, nor burn this much. Smoke drifted from her shoulder as charred skin wafted to her nostrils. She held in vomit as the memories of her past surfaced, her once gnarled skin flashing in her mind, the fire surrounding her, her downed starfighter burned to a crisp.

Another failure.

She shook her head and came back to the present. “Get a grip, Rivkah.”

Another dart shot up the elevator shaft and then another. Across from her was a technician ladder. Her dad had once said she was the unluckiest girl in the world. Well, her daddy wasn’t here anymore and if he was, she would have loved seeing his face when she showed him this ladder. Neither did she have to pull herself up cables nor acrobatically climb up magnetic guide rails. The ladder was her ticket to a faster getaway.

She hurried around the hatch, avoiding a guard doing his best to lift himself into the shaft, his fingers around the lip, struggling to pull himself up.

Dumb-ass move, numbnutz. She landed a hard heel on the guy’s fingers. A yelp bounced around the shaft as the man crashed to the elevator floor.

Rivkah grabbed a hold of the ladder rungs. They were cold, dusty, and a zap of static electricity zinged her as she swiftly climbed. Her shoulder ached like a dog biting her muscle without let up.

Push through the pain.

Clanks reverberated off the walls. The sounds of another guard attempting to climb through the hatch. She didn’t look down. She didn’t have time. No hesitations. A brief pause meant death.

She reached the next floor’s elevator doors and rested one leg on the limit switch and the other on the ladder—a split-eagle. She performed a balance act that would make a tightrope artist gasp in awe. Rivkah stuck her fingers between the cracks and pried the doors open an inch and strained. Her shoulder screamed. The doors opened more and more.

Metal against metal echoed in the shaft. She didn’t need to look down to know what that meant—a rifle had been placed on top of the elevator, the guard almost through the hatch.

She opened Deck 4’s elevator doors wide and pushed herself through. She rolled away from the opening and to her feet. A politician in business clothes, badge hanging from his coat pocket, black tie, gray suit, white shirt, stopped in his tracks, his expression tight in worry. “Are you okay, ma’am?”

Rivkah ignored him and glanced down the hall toward the launch bay then bolted in an all out run. She flicked a look over her shoulder. A guard’s head came just above the bottom of the elevator’s door frame. She needed to speed up, but her energy was drained and instead she slowed. A woman in a skirt, notepad in hand, butted against the wall and out of Rivkah’s way.

But Rivkah’s legs weakened and her feet became heavier. Her eyes wanted to shut. She forced them to stay open. What was in that dart? Poison? A sleeping agent? She skid to a halt and sucked in a thick breath as a handful of guards curled around the corner. Upon sighting her, they went to one knee in front of the launch bay doors.

“Everyone, down. Out of the corridor,” yelled a soldier. A few politicians hit the floor.

A flash from their rifles, and Rivkah dove to the floor as well. Rubber bullets missed overhead. Another shot, and she rolled. She gasped when a sharp sting struck her side.

She eyed a corridor and jumped to her feet, adrenaline taking her legs into another full on run. Another political type, graying hair, thick white beard, and brown eyes strutted down the hall. Deep in thought, he paused when Rivkah came barreling at him. His eyes widened and he put his hands up. He took a step back but not before she lurched at him and snagged the badge from his coat.

“Hey,” he objected.

Rivkah ignored him and rounded a corner. Into a hospital wing, she about stopped when she saw the back of a nurse behind a window. The nurse had black hair pulled back in a pony tail and wore a blue lab coat. She worked diligently on a tablet, and either didn’t hear the commotion outside or had bad hearing, because the woman gave no indication of fright or curiosity.

Rivkah slipped by without being noticed and swiped the badge down the panel at the first door she came to. A utility closet of all places. Mops, buckets, shelves with cleaning products, towels, napkins, bandages, and the list went on and on. The misty smell of mildew could be added to the tally.

The door closed. She twisted in a roundhouse kick, and sent her boot heel through the inside panel on the wall. It sparked and crackled, then fell to the floor. Smoke rose. Hopefully that slowed any access inside the closet.

Above were rafters, and she climbed the metal shelving that held the cleaning supplies, and pulled herself up to a ceiling beam. She slid across the beam to a back corner and into the shadows. Her breaths fast, her hand came to her side. She winced. Wet? She lifted her hand to her face. More blood. She leaned toward the wall and checked her side. A rubber bullet punctured her skin. The rear rim of the bullet stuck out.

Her mom came to mind. A nurse—long dead by strangulation in their backyard when Rivkah was nine, her father the most likely suspect—would most likely have Rivkah bite down on something as she yanked the bullet out.

She had nothing to bite down on but her own teeth. She lassoed her finger and thumb around the bullet’s rim, and dug in. She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d keep her agony as silent as possible. The pain overbearing, she slid the rubber bullet out and set it in her lap. She wanted to grunt, cry, scream, or punch something.

Her body shook and her eyes rolled back. She rested her head against the wall. She did her best to stay conscious, but the blackness took over and her eyes shut. For a moment, she thought she saw her mom’s smiling face, but that too went dark.

17

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

“May I help you?” A nurse, blue coat, and a name tag. Her black hair in a pony tail, she held a computer tablet in her hand, and glossed over it before Jaxx attempted to sneak by.

“No ma’am. I have a friend here.” Jaxx motioned toward a hallway in the starship’s medical wing. An hour ago, he watched two orderlies help Shaughnessy walk to a hospital room, and Shaughnessy hadn’t left since.

And Fox, they rolled him on a gurney in a rush to the operating wing. The guy lost a lot of blood. Probably didn’t make it. One less jerk in the world, or on the ship. However one wanted to look at it, but one less negative presence in Jaxx’s life was a win in his book.

No telling where Slade went, perhaps conscious now and doing his best to find Jaxx. Or he was with President Martelle to convince the man that Jaxx wasn’t a vital asset for the Callisto mission anymore.

“Who?” The nurse tapped on the tablet.

“Jon Shaughnessy. I know where he is. I’ll just head to his room.” Jaxx took a step down the hallway.

“Hold on, sir.” She scrolled through her screen. “Yes, right here. He’s doing fine. What’s your name so I can log you?”

“My name?”

She pointed to his ID badge. “I can just scan you.”

Jaxx pulled away. “It doesn’t work.”

“Sure it does.” She reached for it.

Jaxx turned and paced down the hall.

“Sir, I need your information. You can’t do—”

Jaxx put his hand up. “I’m a top official. I have above level security clearance.” He had no idea what he was talking about or if this silly ploy would work.

The nurse grabbed the back of his shirt. “I have to keep my patients safe. I have to check your—”

In one twist, he slapped her hand away and continued forward. She let out a short scream, one in shock rather than fear, then grabbed at him as he reached Shaughnessy’s room.

Up and alert, Shaughnessy blinked at Jaxx several times, face blank as if trying to put the pieces together at the situation in front of him. He sat on a hospital table, the room empty of doctors or nurses. A monitor with a bouncing line and streaming data behind him on a cart, wires connected from it to a band around Shaughnessy’s bicep.

“Jaxx?”

“Sir, you can’t come in here.” The nurse’s arms wrapped around Jaxx’s waist, and if she were strong enough, he was sure she’d pick him up and body slam him.

“It’s okay, Betty. He’s a friend of mine.” Shaughnessy winced, no doubt remembering Jaxx had knocked him out not too long ago.

The nurse backed off. “Is this some kind of joke? Did Dr. Murray set me up?” Her eyebrows drew low.

“No joke. It’s just that Jaxx, well, can be kind of an asshole sometimes.” Shaughnessy’s expression remained tight, his eyes a bit narrowed at Jaxx.

Jaxx walked into the room. “I’m sorry, Miss, but I don’t like giving information.”

“I’d say.” She huffed and disappeared around the corner, her footsteps loud on the corridor floor.

Jaxx put his hands up. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me in Slade’s quarters.”

“Yeah, what did come over you?”

“I don’t know, but—”

“Does Slade know you’re here? Did he see you?” Shaughnessy looked around Jaxx.

“No. Do you know where he is?”

“I wouldn’t go searching for him if I were you. After the medtechs woke me, I saw Slade exit the room. He mumbled your name and his tone wasn’t pleasant. Don’t know if he noticed me in his room or not. I’m crossing my fingers he didn’t.”

He did, but Jaxx didn’t have time to explain what occurred after he sent Shaughnessy into dreamland.

“We need to turn this ship around.”

Shaughnessy shook his head. “Not going to happen.”

“We have to try.”

“And how do we do that?”

“I know how to fly a ship. If I can slip into the bridge, I can steer this thing away from Callisto and back toward Earth.” He knew it wasn’t that easy, but he had these odd powers that may keep him safe and others away from him while he flew the craft home.

It was a simple, basic plan, but right now his options were more than limited.

“Are you crazy? They won’t give you access to the bridge. And if by chance you broke in, you don’t have the codes to access the flight console. I guarantee it. Plus the people in the bridge, the captain, the crew, I’m thinking they won’t stand back and watch you take over.”

“But you have the codes.”

“The hell I do.”

“You memorized the codes to Slade’s and Martelle’s suites, but not their access codes to anything else?”

“No, man. I already overstepped my bounds with their suite passcodes.”

Jaxx pinched his lips together. “It’s on Slade’s Lectern. I guarantee it.”

“Don’t go back in there.”

“I have to.”

Shaughnessy curled his arms around his chest as if in a self hug of protection.

“Please?” asked Jaxx.

“No. You’re going to get yourself thrown in the brig and I don’t want to see that.”

“A lot of people will die if I don’t do something.”

Shaughnessy rubbed his forehead a little too hard. “Dammit, Jaxx.”

Footsteps came down the hall, hard, fast, heavy. Jaxx tilted his head. That didn’t sound good. He poked his head around the doorway. A male doctor, white coat, stethoscope around his neck, and the nurse, marched in his direction, the corridor lights bouncing off the top of the doctor’s bald head in quick succession as they passed one ceiling lamp after another.

Jaxx faced Shaughnessy. “Slade’s suite passcode, please.” The footsteps came louder. He flared his nostrils, an energy balling up in his gut. “Shaughnessy.”

Shaughnessy relaxed and his arms flopped to his side. “2468WDWA.”

“2468, who do we appreciate?” A sports reference.

“Yes.”

Jaxx took a few steps toward his friend and snatched the ID badge off Shaughnessy’s shirt. Shaughnessy reached forward. “What are you doing?”

Jaxx threw a quick wave and rushed out of the room. The doctor and nurse stopped, the doctor’s hands in the air. “Sir, every member of the ship’s passengers, whether you’re the president or the executive officer or whomever, must be logged into the hospital, visitor or not.”

“Here.” Jaxx tossed Shaughnessy’s badge at the man.

The doctor fumbled with it as Jaxx ran toward the hospital wing’s exit.

Shaughnessy’s voice boomed down the hall. “By the way, I’m doing fine. Thanks for asking, Jaxx.” Jaxx couldn’t only hear his sarcasm, he could feel it as he left the hospital.

Jaxx slowed in the busy starship corridor, eyes to the floor, head down. He picked up his pace. He’d take the long way to Slade’s office. If soldiers or medtechs were still in the guy’s room, Jaxx would have to wait it out in hiding. But once he had his chance, he’d use the code, break in, and get the bridge’s access codes off Slade’s Lectern.

Because it was time to turn this ship around.

18

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

Only several hours after the debacle in Slade’s quarters, the colonel’s suite was shut, door closed. The guards and the medtechs gone.

With no one in the corridor, Jaxx placed his ear against the Slade’s door. No sound. He crossed his fingers and toes, and everything else he could imagine. He pressed Slade’s passcode into the panel. The door whooshed open and he walked inside. The door shut behind him.

The lights automatically clicked on, and he froze. He listened again. No breathing. No footsteps. Just him. A kitchen to one side, cabinets, sink, stove, and a refrigerator. The bed with a nice wooden frame sat across the room from the Lectern. On the other side of the room, a bathroom.

The Lectern beckoned him forward. He recalled how Shaughnessy activated the large device the last time they were here and swiped his finger across the edge of the Lectern. It blared to life. A holographic image materialized in front of him, mirroring an operating system back home minus the holographic display. He touched a file icon labeled Starship Atlantis, his finger pressing through the icon. The file spun and opened to another screen with a dozen more files, all labeled.

“Where are the bridge’s access codes?” He scratched his temple and leaned on one leg. He scanned the myriad of titles in front of him. But one in particular caught his eye. He knew it wasn’t flight control codes or access to the bridge. But he had to see it. He pushed his finger through a file titled Callisto Agendum.

Inside, documents, blueprints, correspondences, and other digital papers were laid out before him. He opened the New United States document, and read.

His face went slack. “No, no. That can’t be.” He read more, and made a fist, his mind going to all those people left behind. To all those citizens that paid taxes, that believed the United States government cared for them. Or, at least, thought the government had an ounce of decency. But, as he read, he realized they didn’t. Not in the slightest. Them leaving on a jet ride to Callisto should have been his first clue.

These politicians, scientists, engineers, and doctors weren’t coming back for the people of the United States. Not like they said, or ever. They left the people to their own accord, governmentless. Sayonara. So long.

According to the document, the politicians came along for the ride because they were skilled in enacting a legitimate government. But did they all know they weren’t coming back for the rest of the United States population? Probably. Jaxx rolled his eyes. But Slade and President Martelle also brought along the best geniuses the government could find, and that’s what they’d need, those brains and their children to seed the moon. All with the idea that the most brilliant minds would create a more robust civilization of humans. They’d thrive on a moon, a moon Jaxx still had no idea if it could be inhabited or not.

But Slade wouldn’t take a risk like this if he didn’t know humans could survive on Callisto, so Jaxx assumed it was habitable. The pyramids could be more than a hint, but it wasn’t evidence enough that it had enough oxygen for humanity. Perhaps if ancient Atlanteans indeed established a civilization on Callisto, maybe they used a breathing apparatus, converting whatever chemical components making up the atmosphere into breathable, sustainable air.

He swiped the document to the side. Another one shined like a diamond; Coming Deluge. He jabbed an index finger through it, and it pulled up. Again, he read. A lot of head shaking later, he wrinkled his brow. “Bullshit. None of this is proven. You look to the past to the see cycles.”

Slade and his scientists were convinced that Earth was headed toward another worldwide flood, and into the next ice age, and in Slade’s lifetime. The document indicated that with global warming, the melting glaciers, and the rising waters, life as Slade knew it wouldn’t exist for much longer. The coasts where most people lived would be covered. Billions dead. Economic collapse. Governments toppled.

Maybe. With greenhouse gasses, more than plausible. But one couldn’t ignore past cycles, because they were possible and still in play. A deluge may not be in store, not for a few thousand years, which would meet the past average interglacial durations that lasted around fifteen thousand years. The current interglacial age had around two thousand years left before the next ice age.

In the past, carbon dioxide followed warming by a lag of eight hundred years or more. NASA now claimed that carbon dioxide had narrowed that lag. And past it.

But, again, cycles. In each age, interglacial or ice age, warming periods struck up seemingly out of nowhere. The Minoan global warming age. It had a warm spike. The Roman warm period and the medieval warm period. Both with global warming spikes themselves. All within the current interglacial age. The age of today. Without a hundred percent certainty, the global spike humanity experienced at the moment could merely be another warming phase.

Slade was taking a gamble. Evacuating Earth, but for what benefit? It had to be more than an idea of a massive climate change, something not set in stone. Even the document Jaxx read, Slade’s scientists proclaimed global warming could be slowed down if people, industry, and governments altered their ways.

Him and the government leaving was tied to something else. What did Slade gain from this venture? Notoriety? His own government to run alongside the president of the United States of America?

“Get off your tangent, Jaxx,” he told himself. He had one mission. Get the bridge’s access codes.

He swiped the document away just as voices echoed outside the door. He went rigid, and held his breath. He flicked the Lectern off, and ran his finger down the light switch on the wall, dimming the room to black. The voices came louder.

He felt his way around a wall. Then remembered the bed. He dashed in its direction, and went to his stomach, the floor cold. He jimmied himself underneath the bed, his back scraping the wood slats holding the mattress.

The suite’s door opened and he tucked his feet under the frame. His heart beat like a sledge hammer on a drum. He mouthed swear words. If Slade found him, a few bullets in the temple would end Jaxx quickly. And this time, Slade wouldn’t hesitate.

The lights on and Slade’s clacking boots filled Jaxx’s ears, accompanied by another’s.

“Don’t worry about him. We’ll find the bastard.” It was President Martelle. “We’ll turn him to the light side. He’s just confused, perhaps some space sickness, or whatever the doctors call that shit.”

“I’m not worried about him. I’m worried we won’t get to Callisto in time, Mr. President,” said Slade.

“We have all the time in the world.”

“Not exactly.”

Jaxx saw their shoes from across the room. They headed to a table. The chairs slid across the floor and they both took a seat.

“Need a Scotch?” asked Slade.

“When don’t I need a Scotch, but hold off on that.”

“You can’t take that smile off your face, can you, Mr. President?”

Martelle patted his stomach. “A good dinner.”

“That’s not it.”

A pause. “Look, you and your science team got us out of a global warming pickle. We’re heading to Callisto. Then after the government is set up, we start the second wave, third wave, fourth wave, and so on. We bring our citizens to our new home.”

Jaxx bit his lip. Martelle still didn’t know. Slade kept it in the dark. How would Slade convince Martelle and the rest of the politicians not to bring the waves of people?

“That’s the plan,” said Slade.

The hell it was.

“You know what I’m looking forward to the most?” said Martelle.

“What’s that, Mr. President?” A lack of care carried through Slade’s voice.

Martelle didn’t skip a beat. “A new, fresh start. No potential wars. No asshole nations to deal with. Just us. A real utopia. Our citizens will enjoy such a luxury.” He sighed. “How long will it take to bring them over?”

“We’re bringing millions, so a few years.”

“That’s right.” He slapped the table and chuckled. “I’ll take that Scotch.”

Slade didn’t move. “We can’t bring them all.”

“What do you mean?”

“With over three hundred million Americans, that’ll take ten to fifteen years, maybe twenty. And that’s weekly trips of hundreds of shuttles docking to starships like this one. And we only have one starship.”

“The SSP has carriers, for God’s sake. They have cruisers, battleships, and you name it. What the hell do you mean we can’t bring everyone?”

“They can’t know about the SSP.”

“You better be kidding me or this will be a short ride for you.”

Slade sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“You won’t see, you’ll do.” Martelle leaned back. His cut-like-a-dagger voice eased. “Speaking of the SSP, we haven’t located Captain Rivkah Ravenwood either. I hear she’s wounded?”

“Hopefully dead and down a shaft somewhere.”

“She’s not on the security cams?”

“Strangely, no. She’s like Batman,” said Slade.

“In what way?”

“She’s there one minute, gone the next. But I’ll find her. I always do.”

A shock hit Jaxx’s core. She’s wounded? Why didn’t he feel her? Was he too busy in his own mind, in his own thoughts, to notice Rivkah had a serious problem? If he didn’t feel her, was she dead?

He closed his eyes. His third eye pulsed, and a blast of waves vibrated outward. In seconds, he latched on to her.

She was badly injured. She shook. Though freezing, sweat doused her body. And she grew weaker. She lost blood and continued to lose more, but she was hidden in the shadows. He couldn’t see where.

He squeezed his eyes more and did his best to get a sense of her injuries. Nothing came back. Either he needed to practice or the pineal gland abilities weren’t as specific. But for a moment, a minor thought came. He didn’t know if it was from his mind, or from this strange energy he threw outward to find Rivkah.

She didn't have long left to live. An hour or so, if that. He swallowed hard and wanted to burst out of room and find her.

The chair moved. Martelle yawned. “You know what, Slade? Skip the Scotch. My wife awaits, if you know what I mean.”

Slade walked the president to the door. “Have a good night, Mr. President.”

“And one thing, Slade. Find Jaxx. He’s the key to the pyramid power. You get me? Get everyone on it, and I don’t care if we have to empty every room. We find him.”

“On it, Mr. President.”

“Good man.”

19

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

Snores filled the room.

Jaxx had been under Slade’s bed for an hour. The colonel drank his Scotch, went to the bathroom, and meandered to his bed. In minutes, Slade fell asleep as if nothing penetrated the guy, as if his past didn’t haunt him or the fact that he and his scientists, the politicians, and his military left the United States in a bad state, and it was okay if the country folded in on itself. And the bastard slept like a baby. Another snore vibrated above.

Jaxx closed his eyes in search of Rivkah again. She hated his guts, but she’d saved him in the past, and he’d returned the favor. They were a good team if she’d get over the fact that she though he left her to die. It wasn’t the case, but Rivkah wasn’t convinced it was all a misunderstanding.

Still, she could help him. They could work together and turn this ship around. Starship Atlantis headed toward a portal, but he doubted Slade or the crew had knowledge, so Jaxx would stick that important information in his back pocket.

Where are you, Rivkah? He saw shadows. Blackness. A soft grunt from his core, and he pushed his energy farther. “There you are,” he whispered.

Her energy was an aura of colors, but from a location he couldn’t pinpoint. His sight had passed through several decks and through a wall. But since the last time he sensed her, she’d gotten worse. Her life force waned and he could tell she was in and out of consciousness.

Rivkah, can you hear me?

No response.

He sucked in a deep breath, and focused on her pain. Energy balled in his gut, and Jaxx’s hands warmed. Dots of sweat formed on his brow, and he pushed his breath outward. Mostly imagination, he focused on white light beaming down through his body and used his thoughts to focus that light onto Rivkah.

But, now what? Maybe if he directed it more intensely? Because, at the moment, he sensed no change.

An idea popped into his mind like car backfiring, loud and abrupt. His body jerked in response. Words have power and force behind them. Love seemed to deliver a certain vibration, a powerful happiness, a positive emotion. It felt good. And the opposite was true for harsh words.

He spoke from his mind: Heal, Rivkah. Heal.

He chanted her name and the word heal repeatedly. After ten minutes, a scratchy sensation took over his throat. Several more minutes, and his throat burned. That wasn’t what he expected.

Heal, Rivkah. Heal.

How could the flu suddenly hit him? His throat was dry and in more pain. He yawned and yawned, then his eyelids felt like a ton of bricks. A blink, and another blink. Yawn. Blink. Blink. Why was he so tired? A shake of his head didn’t keep his body from falling into more of a lethargic state.

One last blink and his eyelids remained shut. Eventually, Slade’s snores disappeared behind Jaxx’s sleep. He smacked his lips, and snoozed like the best of them.

20

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

A warmth from somewhere came down on her. “Mom?” Tears welled in Rivkah’s eyes, and she sniffed. “Mom, if you can hear me, I need your help.”

Her body was cold and she shivered. An image of the last time Rivkah saw her mom’s smile came to mind. Her name was Martha and they sat together in their backyard. Martha held eight-year-old Rivkah in her arms and swayed back and forth. The wood porch creaked at every movement, and the black tire that hung from the tree in the backyard seemed to sway back and forth in unison with them. Rivkah watched a bird perched on a worn-down fence in the distance. The bird flew from the fence to the weeds and dirt that blanketed the area they called a yard.

“Mom, I’m going to fly like that bird someday.” She arched her head back and her mom grinned her crooked smile.

She kissed Rivkah’s forehead. “From what I’ve seen with you, little darlin’, you can do anything that heart of yours desires. Every time you do, it’s like a bird singing. Effortless.”

Chock full of compliments, her mom was the opposite of her father. She pushed any semblance of her father away. “Don’t think of him.” Her voice shook. A tear fell from her eye. “What have I turned into?” She’d become contrary to what her mom believed. No longer capable of anything with meaning, Rivkah figured she’d wither to death like her father. And here she was, slunk deep in the shadows hiding from her pursuers. No, they were her killers. Her mom wouldn’t be proud of what her daughter made of herself.

She squished her eyebrows together as more warmth poured into her. Moments ago, she had a hell of a time staying awake. But now she felt revitalized. How? Was it the warmth? Her mom sending healing from the afterlife? Could the most treasured person in her life be her guardian angel?

She straightened, with little pain, as her side and shoulder didn’t ache as much. She touched her shoulder wound. It hurt, but not like minutes ago. She slid a finger against the spot in her side where the rubber bullet had once lodged. A cringe didn’t knot up her face like it would before the strange warm sensation made its way to her. And zero blood. But the lack of blood oozing out of her could be explained—her own body doing its healing processes—but the sudden alleviation of pain couldn’t. Yes, it was still painful, but only half as bad from minutes before.

About to thank her mom, she tightened her lips. She sensed Jaxx. “You’re the gift that keeps on giving,” she said with more than a pinch of sarcasm. Did he want to heal her so he could torture her more? That sick, son of a bitch. She took a deep breath and her body filled with more energy. In so doing, her arms and legs became more alive.

She pushed herself into a standing position and almost lost her balance. By pressing her hand against the wall, she caught herself. Her legs shook. But she had to get down. She couldn’t stay in the hospital wing’s utility closet forever. Sneaking into the launch bay and flying out of this starship in a starfighter or transport was her only escape. An all too monumental task. She figured she’d die before she made it out of the starship, but who the hell cared? No one would miss her and if she miraculously liberated herself from the chains of this craft, she’d fly to a cave somewhere on Earth to crawl into, never to be seen again. Maybe she’d finally get some peace and quiet.

She took a step down the metal shelving. Something hard hit the door and pinged inside the utility closet. She froze, then scooted into the shadows. The door opened and in walked an older man. He pushed a bucket with wheels; a mop inside the bucket.

“God damn, door. You sticking on me again?” The man wore a dark gray cap, black overalls and a gray long sleeve shirt. The door shut behind him. He nudged the mop and bucket to one corner, and grabbed a folded towel off a shelf. He faced the door and went to swipe his badge. The badge dropped to his side, hung slack from a chain on his belt. The man studied the broken door panel. He sighed and unclipped a comm device and brought it to his lips. “Sandy, can you—”

Rivkah dropped from the rafter and landed a fist to the back of the man’s skull. The guy fell like a rag doll. The side of his face slid down the lower portion of the door, squeaking as it did so. With his eyes closed, his head bounced off the hard floor.

“Shit.” She didn’t mean to hit him so hard. “Sorry, old man. But I couldn’t let you compromise my position.”

She pulled off his overalls and slipped off his shirt. After she shoved them on over her jumpsuit, she shrugged. A little baggy, but they’d do. She took off his cap, and fit it on her head.

“This is Sandy. Can you repeat, Maurice?” a voice said through the comm unit.

Rivkah bent down and picked up Maurice’s com. She brought it to her lips and lowered her voice. Her tone was gruff. “Stuck in the closet, Sandy. Help me?”

“You got a cold or something, Maurice?”

“Yes.”

“How did you get stuck in there, anyhow?” Sandy sighed. “Don’t worry. I’m on my way.”

Rivkah tapped her foot as she waited. A few minutes passed, and she leaned against the shelving. The door opened and a short, stout woman about half the size of Rivkah, same outfit as Maurice’s minus the cap, pursed her lips, hands on her hips.

It took a moment for Sandy’s mouth to gape open when she saw Maurice knocked out on the floor. Her eyes met Rivkah’s. “Who—”

Rivkah pulled Sandy inside and pushed her into the shelves. Boxes and toilet paper fell on top of her. She lost balance and went to the floor. Sandy reached toward Rivkah just as Rivkah dashed out of the closet. The door closed.

Rivkah swiped her hands together. Her head down, her cap pulled low, she hurried down a corridor. Perhaps there was a back exit to this hospital wing. Going out the same way she came in might not be the best idea.

She picked up her pace and hugged the wall as an orderly walked by, a clipboard in his hand. Up ahead was a lobby and a doctor marched around a desk, face glued his tablet. He spoke something to a nurse, then walked in Rivkah’s direction.

The ID badge’s chain jangled against Rivkah’s leg, and she snatched the badge in her hand. A door to her right, and she swiped the badge through the panel. The door sucked into the wall and she entered. As the door shut, the sound of rhythmic beeps bounced off the walls.

A closed, blue curtain stood in front of her, an empty hospital bed to her right. And a bathroom was to her left with a toilet facing her. A counter was deeper in the room with a sink. Good. Water.

She took steps toward the sink, soft and quiet. The beeps meant someone was behind the curtain, sleeping or recouping. No need to wake the pour soul.

A moan, then someone mumbled. She paused. She’d heard that voice before. “Shoot him, Slade. Just…kill Jaxx…” the voice became incoherent into a low murmur.

She opened the curtain a crack. “Fox?” Her body tingled with shock. Or was that excitement? This might turn out to be her lucky day.

There he was, laying on a bed. Bandage over his stomach. In his boxers, his eyes were shut. An IV dripped liquid into a bag next to him and down a tube that went from his arm to the IV bag. He moaned a second time.

What the hell happened to the guy? A smile grew on Rivkah. If she ever had a chance to end a piece of shit without a struggle, without a fight, it was now.

She crept forward. A quick strangling wouldn’t hurt anyone. It might just bring a bit more light into the Universe.

21

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Callisto

The Master stood as Bogle approached, Grenik Star by her side. The Master had on a long, white dress, a metallic four-petaled rose clasped on her shoulder. She had blond hair and piercing blue eyes, her body toned and powerful. There wasn’t a wrinkle on her, confirming Bogle’s suspicions that the crystallo fabrica on her chest had frizzled out and translated Grenik Star incorrectly when he said the Master was thousands of years old.

Heck, if the crystallo fabrica had indeed fried out, then what else had it mistranslated?

The Master stood by a simple table, her face fixed in what Bogle believed was the most welcoming smile she’d ever seen.

Bogle remembered her Hamlet, “One may smile and smile and be a villain.”

Rosemary mixed with lavender fragranced the air. An ornate tea pot and cups were set on the table, steam rising from the fresh-brewed jasmine and ginger tea.

“Welcome,” the Master bowed. “My name is Salasha Libertanius. In your language, I’m Liberty Speidel.” She raised one brow and smiled anew. “Call me Liberty.”

Bogle, not knowing the correct protocol, followed Grenik’s lead and bowed with him.

Grenik spoke, “Thank you, Master. Would you like me to stay or leave?”

“Sit and take tea, Grenik. Your service is appreciated.”

Grenik pulled out a seat, gesturing for Bogle to take it. “Wow, a gentleman. You don’t see too many of those on Star Ward—” Her voice cracked. She had to turn her face from her rescuer and host to hide the tears. The lush surroundings had almost lulled her into a false sense of security. But she couldn’t let her guard down with these people. Her entire bridge team, her crew, and her ship were gone—dead. And, it was because of them. She was dealing with the enemy. Devils.

Liberty took a seat, her eyes on Bogle. “We only attacked because we do not want to be used as chattel or our land as a bargaining chip. Our intent was not to kill. Our intent was to keep peace within our society.”

Bogle kept her eyes trained to the floor. Her words came out as a whisper, anger rising from her belly. “Then why did you kill if that wasn’t your intent?”

“We ceased fire the moment your admiral decided to retreat. We re-opened fire when he wanted to end all life on our portion of Atlantis Alta, Flood of Dawn.” She spoke matter of factually, her face calm and serene, a hint of melancholy in her voice.

Grenik took a sip of tea, but remained quiet.

Bogle wiped away a tear and spoke through gritted teeth. “I tried to stop the admiral.”

Liberty pressed her cup to her lips, glancing over at Bogle, then pushed a cup of tea toward her. “We know. Our heart is with you.” She put her cup down, clasping her hands together. “You must understand that a nuclear explosion would lay waste not only to our people here in Flood of Dawn, but to the millions in other cities on our moon. We weren’t willing to suffer another people’s nuclear misdeed.”

Bogle stiffened. This wasn’t the only city on Callisto? There must be more pyramids, obelisks, farms, domes, biospheres, and coliseums all over the moon. How could the Secret Space Program have missed them for all these years?

Liberty straightened. “Because we wanted you to overlook our civilization. We wanted every Being to overlook us. It wasn’t time to be seen yet. In fact, if we had it our way, we would have closed our doors forever and remained a closed society, happy in our solitude and glad of our own company. But, the soothsayer spoke.” Liberty looked out over the gardens. There was no doubt that her eyes had seen a thousand-thousand sunsets and for a moment, she stiffened, as if the weight of her duty swam into focus. She blinked it away and eased. “We are here to fulfill our prophecies and wake up those in the Galaxy that have fallen into darkness.”

Bogle touched the crystallo fabrica on her chest. “Does this transmit my thoughts to you?”

Liberty tapped her head with her finger. “We are Atlantean, not Human. There’s a difference. We can hear thoughts. I can turn my psychic dial down for you, if you’d like.”

Bogle combed her fingers through her hair. “Yeah, don’t just turn it down. Turn it off.” To Bogle, mind-reading, soothsayers, and prophesy were all part of the same demonic bundle: heresy. She couldn’t listen, but not hear; hear, but not believe. They could talk all they liked, but she knew the word of the One True God and she planned to do right by Him.

For a fleeting instant, there was silence, and Bogle took a good look around. She was in a sanctuary. Trees, much like blue atlas cedars, their needles hued differently with a tint of blue, pink and orange, reached toward the top of the dome, along with reddish, gold palm trees, bearing an orange fruit the size of coconuts.

A butterfly, twice the normal height and width, dropped from a branch and fluttered past her. Its wings fanned Bogle’s face. She jerked back and stifled a soft yelp.

“We have many animals and insects here that are now extinct from where we came from.” Liberty reached inside her dress and pulled out a piece of what looked to be hard, white bread. “The last great deluge on Earth caused a mass end of life for many species.”

Liberty dropped the piece on the floor, then whistled. The bushes stirred and a cat—its body as big as a grizzly, fangs as long as her forearm—emerged. The creature padded up to Liberty and bumped its head against her outstretched hand, then gave her fingers a quick lick. A purr rose from the cat’s throat and it bent down, whisking the food into its mouth. It sat on its hind legs, sitting contently next to Liberty. “Meet Dakin.”

Bogle leaned as far back in her chair as her spine would allow without snapping her in two. “I...uh...those are called sabretooth tigers.”

Liberty leaned forward, cupping her hands. “I see. I call her only ‘Dakin.’ You may pet her, if it pleases you.”

“It doesn’t please me. In fact, it would please me if she were further from me.”

Liberty nodded and Dakin ambled around the back of her chair and stretched out, licking her paws. “Now, to why I summoned you and why Grenik Star saved you.” She gave Bogle a long, hard stare. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

Bogle didn’t know what to say, so she said nothing.

“According to our prophecies, you’re here to help us. A great wrong is with us now and it’s bleak. The prophecy states: ‘A pure and clear Being, a phantom of the deep, dark cosmos will fall from the stars and will bring the key to Atlantis Alta's survival. Three lords, three seeds, three contrary intentions will follow with thunder, lightning, and blood in the year 71,746. Much blood will be spilled.

“We are in the year 71,746.” Liberty gestured toward Bogle. “And here you arrive. And, here they arrive.”

“Who are they?” asked Bogle.

“To our east and west, our lands, cities, and people have been ravaged. The Kelhoons have already landed.” Liberty shook her head. “Then your race, the humans, send a forward guard in the form of their ‘Secret Space Program’ to grab our land. If these forces come down upon us, one after the other, we’re doomed. Though, if you help us, Katherine Bogle, the prophesy indicates we have a chance.”

Bogle shook her head and scratched her jaw, wondering why Grenik hadn’t spoken a word. She folded her arms across her chest. “We’re not in the year 71,746. We’re in the 21st century.” Even as she said it, she knew she sounded petulant and childish. Of course there were going to be different calendars in different planetary systems. It was just that this Liberty woman was off her rocker and she wanted to stop her talking. There were no modern prophets or invading forces or…Liberty’s words snagged in her brain. She was supposed to do something; save a people; make a difference. “Where is my name in that prophecy?”

“You are the pure and clear Being and you are the phantom, all which are meanings to your name; Katherine Bogle.”

Bogle hung her head. It was almost too much to hope for: that she would be destined for greatness. Which was how the Devil did his work. Yep. Speaking to her vanity. She’d almost been caught up in the lie. He was as cunning and conniving as Liberty was sweet and gentle.

“And,” continued Liberty. “You had a thought when you first entered these Temple Gardens. Would you like me to confirm that your crystallo fabrica is indeed working?” She held a wry smile, one that a teacher would have for a new student.

“I don’t recall. And, I told you not to read my thoughts.” Demons never keep their promises. I should have known better.

“It was before you had asked me to turn off my telepathy.” Liberty took a sip of tea. “The human body and the Atlantean body were built to withstand the diseases of aging. I am indeed two thousand years old, give or take a year or two. Your people, as in the masses, will discover the truth of long living in the near future and aging will no longer be a detriment to your society.”

Bogle waved her hand in the air, doing her best to be polite. “Okay, let’s say I’m this person you’re seeking.” She rolled her eyes, then remembered to treat others as she would like to be treated herself. “What do I need to do?”

“Convince Kaden Jaxx and Rivkah Ravenwood to join our fight. You’re their calm, you’re their leader. Kaden Jaxx is the key to all of this. He’s the reason we severed the holographic array around Atlantis Alta, or in your words, around Callisto, and let ourselves be known to the rest of the Galaxy. We’re here to teach and in order for us to spread light throughout the Galaxy, Jaxx needs to protect us first and foremost.”

“No can do, Chief.” Bogle leaned back, crossing her arms over her stomach. “I haven’t seen Rivkah since I first enlisted. From what I’ve heard, she’s dead.”

Liberty smiled. “She’s on her way, child. And if you lean forward for me, I must fulfill a prophecy.”

Bogle shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be rude, but I’m not here to complete prophecies. I’m here for—” Bogle’s body moved against her will, leaning forward for Liberty.

Liberty pressed her index finger against Bogle’s skin between her eyebrows. A wave of light shot through Bogle’s mind, her vision blanketed with white. She closed her eyes and ecstasy ran through her as if she’d just been shot up with some mind and body altering drug. Her extremities tingled, her cells danced, her brain flipped and twirled and swam in a tsunami of good chemicals. She soared above the treetops and snacked on stardust. She was free of cares, of pain, of all her former anguish. She was Katherine Bogle, Bringer of Light.

She drifted back to Liberty’s side. Her eyes closed and she took in a deep breath. “They’re on their way, Liberty. I can feel them.”

“Who, my child?”

“Jaxx and Rivkah, and another.”

22

Charlotte, North Carolina ~ Earth

Whapooh! Whapooh!

Two stationary tanks let loose in the city street. Drew, Mya, and Camila—with the baby bundled in her arms—leaned against a laundromat building. The cement wall shook, and smoke rose from around the corner building.

“Go,” said Drew. He prodded Mya and Camila forward. They ran, crossing the pocked road and ducking behind the next building. So far, they’d only made it a few miles from Drew’s house.

“Me cago en la madre,” said Camila. She threw her words in Drew’s direction. “Hijo de la gran puta, Drew. You brought us right in the middle of danger.”

“Keep running and follow me.” That’s all Drew could say, other than questioning her about what the hell she just called him. Drew hadn’t foreseen a military battle on his way to his friend’s business. He also didn’t believe another military force would ever invade the United States. Yet they had, so what else could be pulled out of the holy-shit hat?

There was a moment of quiet, but he knew it wouldn’t last, then Bvvvvvvv as a tank rotated its turret, readying another shot.

Whapooh!

The side of a building across the way sunk in. Cement and wood crumbled from the explosion. Soldiers ran out of the building. They let off some rounds with their rifles, then hustled around the corner.

A US tank pulled forward from behind the building.

Bvvvvvvvvv! Whapooh!

Bratatatatat Ratatatat!

US Marines emerged from another building and raced by Drew. One soldier waved them down, urgent and angry and pissed at the world. “Get the hell out of here.”

It was like they were in a war zone. The United States didn’t have war zones. This wasn’t right. This didn’t happen.

Another missile landed somewhere in the distance. An explosion. Dirt, asphalt, and parts of a car rose into the air in a small cloud. Car alarms joined the fray like a tone-deaf symphony.

He led Mya and Camila around another building. They stopped and pressed their backs against a wall. Camila held the duffel-bag tightly to her side as if it was their lifeline, her mouth drawn in a straight line. She rubbed her shoulder. “You trying to kill us?”

Drew put his hands on his knees. A drop of sweat fell from his nose. He’d carried Mya half the distance, figuring it would be faster.

It wasn’t.

He shook his head as he panted like a dog. “I didn’t know...they would be here. I thought we were running away from the fighting, not—”

“Cállate!” Camila dropped the bag. Mya came in closer and Camila kissed her on top of the head. She looked at Drew. “What now, genius? Where do we go?” Her accent was sweet, her tone harsh as a bomb striking the ground.

Drew pointed at a car dealership. “My friend Ethan works there.”

Camila put her hands on her hips. “No one’s there. All the lights are off.”

Drew gave a thumbs up. “Good. ’Cause I’m not fixing to buy a car. I’m going to steal one.”

More gun fire echoed down the street. A black pickup truck, big tires, shook back and forth. Bullets and bullet holes made their home in its side. Smoke rose toward the sky as the city rocked with several more concussion blasts. A red, brick building took a hit, perhaps from tank fire and the side wall toppled.

“Come on,” yelled Drew. They ran across the way, jumping over a road divider. Quickly striding to a sidewalk, they hurried up the car lot steps to the showroom glass doors.

Locked.

He went to grab a rock—something to break the glass—then jumped back as the glass shattered inward. Shards splashed over the entryway floor.

Camila handed the baby to Mya. “Move.” She leaned back and threw another rock, this one bigger. It bashed through the other glass door, creating a bigger hole.

Camila passed her hand through the opening and unlocked the front doors. She kicked the doors open and Mya and Drew rushed inside.

Drew hurried by desk after desk and veered toward an office. Mya and Camila followed close behind.

A high explosive shell boomed out of a nearby tank. The building shook. That was close. Too close.

Drew twisted a door knob. It was locked. He stepped a few feet back and slammed his foot near the door’s latch. The door broke open.

Machine gun fire reverberated off the walls as if it came from inside the dealership. They all instinctively ducked. The shelling was getting nearer.

Drew crawled inside the room and dug through a drawer. No keys. He put his hands up, then scratched his head. “I swear I read that it was in that drawer.” He opened another drawer. Only pens and paper. He opened a cabinet. Not there either.

He closed his eyes.

“What are you doing? We need to hurry,” said Camila.

He put his index finger up. “Let me concentrate. I’m not thinking correctly. I have to locate the key.” He started whispering to himself, as if reading a manual. “Yes, it was on the fourth page.” He brought it to memory. For a genius, having a photographic memory had its good and its bad. The bad; you remember what everyone has said about you. The good; you remember exactly where you saw the spare keys listed on a ten-page document you once read in Ethan’s office because you were bored, waiting for Ethan to get out of a meeting.

Drew pushed Ethan’s desk chair aside and lifted the carpet mat. A shiny brass key was underneath. “There it is. Now, to the box.”

He hustled to another room. The key shined from the sun’s light through a window as he slipped the key inside the black box’s keyhole. With a twist, the box opened.

He needed an efficient, low gas mileage car. The hybrid car’s key, the thick, black and bulbous key head, hung between a dozen more keys.

“Got it. Let’s go.”

Several cars were parked on the showroom floor, though only one hybrid. He walked over to the passenger’s side door and opened it. He glanced at Camila across the room. Mya was smashed against her hip. Her mom was her comfort. “Camila, step inside to your new—”

Guns popped off.

Glass shattered, splintering toward them, and papers flew in the air. Bullets ricocheted off the ground and center showroom beams. Drew, Camila, and Mya hit the deck.

Drew covered his head, then looked up in hopes that his companions were safe.

Mya was on the floor in front of Drew. He grabbed her and crawled backwards, pulling her along with him behind a wide, steel beam.

He leaned against it and held Mya tightly. To his side, a corner wall had been splattered with bullet holes.

A squeal, sharp and intense, split the air. Was that Camila? He peeked around the beam. Camila was crawling toward them, her face full of tears. She grasped for her daughter, her mouth twisted in pain. A trail of blood was in her wake. She wasn’t holding the baby.

23

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

The monitor steadily beeped as Rivkah stepped forward. She touched Fox’s neck and curled her fingers. A moan vibrated between his lips and he stirred. His bandage stamped on his stomach. A small amount of blood soaked through in the center.

“Slade… why did you do… that? You shot… me.” Shaky breaths slid out his nose as if pain cranked up a notch at each exhale. He rolled his head on the pillow. “You could…have killed…me.”

Rivkah cocked her head to the side. She lightened her grip around his throat. “He shot you?”

“Don’t play me the fool. You…know…exactly what you did…Slade.” Fox licked his lips. His eyes moved left and right in quick succession behind his eyelids.

Either the anti-pain meds were getting to him or he had a tendency to talk in his sleep. The man obviously thought she was Slade.

She stepped away and let her hands fall to her sides. “Why do you think I did that?”

“Because you’re a fool.”

“What would you have done if you were in my situation?”

“Nothing. And everything.”

What the hell did that mean? She cleared her throat. “As colonel, I order you to be as specific as possible. I value your thoughts.”

“Slade, you don’t value shit. That’s why you threw everything and everyone under the bus to invade.”

“Invade where?”

“Shutup.”

Rivkah pursed her lips. An invasion could take place anywhere. It could be countless planetary systems that Slade had invaded in the past, assuming Fox spoke about the past.

“What did I throw under the bus?”

“Your God damn oath. Everything that made you human. I might as well call you a Kelhoon.”

The Kelhoon, a mixed race; half lizard, half human. Rivkah scanned her memory. Did the Kelhoon have the ability to warp a themselves into humans? Did they have that technology? Was Slade a Kelhoon? She snorted. Dumb thought. “Again, be specific, soldier. What did I do that you don’t like?”

“You’re a traitor.”

It didn’t take a brain scientist to know that, and Fox knew it too. “I’m not a traitor.”

“You turned an entire program into traitors.”

“Who?”

Fox stirred. “You know who.”

She wanted to pull out her hair. This was getting nowhere. “You are the one who convinced me.” She didn’t know where she was going with this, but any change would be good.

“The hell I did.”

“The program was your idea.”

“It was solely yours, you son of a bitch.”

“It was you who convinced the Global Safety Administration to turn on its people.”

“What? I did nothing of the sort. And that’s not what I’m talking about.” He curled his lips downward. “I’m talking about the SSP, you dipshit.”

What did Slade do with the SSP? “Those are humans. How does that make me and them a traitor?”

“You aligned them and the Kelhoons against an unknown.”

Bingo. “How the hell did I do that? That was you.” At the moment, she could make up anything to get some answers. It was almost fun. “I should call you the traitor.”

“Stop lying. I’m just relieved the SSP hasn’t confirmed your arrangement.”

“My arrangement to align the SSP and Kelhoons?” That had been done on more than one occasion, so why would that suddenly piss off Fox?

“Stop echoing me. You hate echoes.”

She leaned a hip against his hospital bed. “I see. And what are we going to do if I successfully align the two against the unknown?”

“You’ll kill the Atlanteans.”

“The Atlanteans? Are they the unknowns?”

“You bet your shiny ass they are. Again, don’t play me a fool, Slade.”

Rivkah went rigid. Atlanteans weren’t real. They were a myth and part of Jaxx’s vivid imagination. Jaxx had a screwed up fascination with them, so what was Fox talking about? Unless…

“You mean the Atlanteans on Callisto?” That was Jaxx’s contention. That before the deluge twelve-thousand some odd years ago, some of the Atlanteans had avoided it and fled off planet. With advanced technology and propulsion, they made their way to Callisto. She remembered Jaxx rambling on and on about that, but to her, it was just ramblings. Stupid incoherent thoughts not linking together. Until now.

“Yes, the Atlanteans. Who else?”

She swallowed. “And that’s where we’re headed, right?”

“You have some strange idea about a slave trade, but that’s none of my business.”

“On Callisto?”

“Where the hell else, man?”

She ran her hand through her hair and pulled. Just like planet Taiyo and the Taiyonians, the SSP and the Kelhoons crapped all over them to attempt a takeover. Unsuccessfully, for that matter. And the half dozen other worlds that the SSP took over, with and without the Kelhoons, jumped to her mind. She participated. They trained her to believe the shit the high command briefed her on, sometimes explaining that an alien group was going to invade Earth or infiltrate the United States government or drain the human world of all resources. She took the information as truth; hook…line…and sinker.

She fought on the front lines to keep the extraterrestrials away from her home. She killed them in space or on their home worlds. And it was all a ruse. Every damn minute of it. She killed more Beings than she could ever count and under false pretenses. These set of lies continued like a stream of disgusting pee, and she needed to stop it.

And now Slade was going into the slave trade business? Holy shit. She blew her cheeks out wide and threw her hands on her hips. For a moment, her mind was set. She’d kill Fox, then Slade, then whoever else she could in order to halt another invasion and stifle the slave trade.

Her heart dropped at the thought and she shook her head. No. She was done with this all. Too much stress for one woman, too many lies to uncover. Her first goal had to be finding a way off this starship. Her next goal was to fly under the radar for the rest of her life.

Goal one and two were attainable. Stopping Slade, the Kelhoons, and the SSP was downright impossible. And this slave trade business? She didn’t want to touch that with a ten-foot pole.

For a moment, the dumbest, oddest thought fell prey in her mind. Send Jaxx a thought packet of what she’d just learned from Fox. What was a thought packet? She stood like stone as the thought came and went, as if a memory of the last fifteen minutes of her talk with Fox lifted in a bubble and slipped into the ethers. And as it left her mind, she paid it no more attention. Focusing on what was more important—ending Fox’s life—Rivkah approached him closer with her arms outstretched.

Fox moaned something inaudible. He turned his head, eyes shut. “Cat catch your tongue?”

Oh, yeah. Goal one wasn’t getting off the ship. She’ll push that to goal two. Old Foxy-boy was goal numero uno now.

She went to strangle the last bits of air out of the sleeping prick when the door hissed open. No one was going to stop her today. It was time to head to the launch bay.

She shifted on her feet and charged through the curtain. A nurse’s head shot up a tablet. Her eyes were wide. And the nurse stood in her way.

24

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

One by one, images of Fox riddled Jaxx’s mind. He attempted to blink the asshole away until he realized what his mind was doing.

Downloading information. And from the one and only, Rivkah. Each vision sent an electric sensation to his heart, throwing out a strange exhale. He watched through Rivkah’s eyes, almost as if he were there, seeing Fox in a hospital bed recuperating from Slade’s gun shot. This thought bubble, or whatever the hell it was, showed an event in Rivkah’s life that occurred a short time ago.

But a holy-shit slave trade? The Kelhoons and the SSP aligning to take out the Atlanteans on Callisto? This was worse than he thought. The inhabitants on the Jupiter moon didn’t stand a chance. Although an asshole for leaving his people high and dry, President Martelle seemed to have his heart in the right place. He left Earth for a better life, not only for him, but for the citizens of the United States. And the President needed to know what Slade was up to.

Slade’s snores carried on, just like the guy’s want to strip alien civilizations from their homes, their livelihoods, their resources.

Jaxx jimmied out from under the bed, his movements quiet. The room dark, he walked as silently as possible to the panel near the door. The tip of his boot caught the leg of a chair. A squeak pierced the room as the chair moved across the floor. It tipped, the metal legs clanked, and the wooden backrest smacked hard.

Slade’s snoring stopped. Jaxx froze and he heard Slade bolt upright. The sounds of the sheets crumpling together cracked like a gun shot whipping in the darkness.

“Who’s there?”

Jaxx didn’t speak and didn’t move. He clenched his teeth and held back a string of shit-crap-son-of-a-butt-muncher curses that he’d love to yell at the top of his lungs.

“Jaxx?”

Jaxx tightened his lips. No matter what, he wasn’t going to say a word.

Slade’s bare feet slapped against the floor, and he heard Slade get out of bed.

“Whoever you are, you don’t realize how dumb of a move you just made. Who. Are. You?”

Jaxx dashed to the door, and his hands slapped as loud as Slade’s feet as the guy approached.

“Lights on,” said Slade.

The lights blared, and Jaxx couldn’t help but squint. He searched the wall for the panel.

Slade held his forearm up to shadow his eyes from the light. Only ten feet from Jaxx, he squinted as well. “Jaxx. You?” In his boxers, the colonel’s thick muscles contracted. Way past his prime, but the guy didn’t skip a beat in the weight room.

Jaxx’s fingers came to the panel, and he patched in 2-4-6-8 and W-D-W-A in quick succession. Slade reached for him as the door opened.

“Get some clothes on, Slade,” said Jaxx as he ran out the door and down the corridor. Perhaps that would slow the man down and prompt him to toss on his fatigues. Most likely not.

Bare feet padded against the floor and echoed in the corridor. Slade was on his way. Jaxx pivoted at an intersection and went left. Slade may be in shape, but he wasn’t fast and Jaxx outpaced him. He hurried down another corridor and another until he reached the main elevator shafts.

A man exited an elevator, a towel around his waist, hair messed up and wet. With a pot belly, the guy slapped his stomach and yawned. He raised an eyebrow in a hello to Jaxx, and Jaxx dipped his head in kind.

The elevator doors closed after Jaxx stepped inside. He ran his hand to level four where Martelle’s office was located. He’d leave the guy a note, hide under his desk, he didn’t know. He had to get the information to Martelle in some way, shape, or form to get the president to turn this ship around.

The elevator descended, and a ding. Jaxx exited the elevator and ran down the corridor. He skid to a halt at the presidential office. Two large potted cactus plants bordered the door.

He rapped his knuckles on the top of his head. “No, no. Dammit.” He never asked Shaughnessy for Martelle’s office password or his suite’s. And like a dummy, he spent his time on Slade’s Lectern not looking for what he went in there for; the passcode to the bridge.

Each panel to a room had a doorbell of sorts. He pressed it. A buzz from the panel and he went rigid. He looked left and right down the corridor. At this hour, most people slept so the area was empty. From what he knew about President Martelle, the guy rarely slept, and if he did, like many go-getters, sleep didn’t account for much. This was part of his presidential campaign. The average person needed eight hours. Action oriented people who got shit done, more like five hours, sometimes less.

He held his breath. No answer. His heart beat fast and he balled up his fist. He tapped the doorbell again. Another buzz.

“I see you out there, Jaxx.” Martelle’s voice blared through the panel.

“Mr. President?”

“Why the hell are you waking me at this hour?”

Waking him? He slept in his office? Maybe his wife kicked him out for the night.

Jaxx motioned to the door. “Can I come in, sir?”

“Sure, no problem.” The door opened. The lights were off. At the back of the office stood a large window pane, not something Jaxx saw much on this starship. Mostly port holes for windows lined the corridors and if one was lucky, one or two port windows accompanied a person’s room.

The stars glittered behind the thick glass and Mars lit up the office with a gold hue, though the glow was dim.

Jaxx went to take a step inside then hesitated. “Are you in your office, Mr. President?”

“Does it look like I’m in there?”

“No.”

“We always knew your observation skills were top notch.” A pause. “We’ve been looking for you. We catch glimpses of you on the security cams, but they tend to glitch out when you’re near.”

That would have been a good piece of information to know. It would have saved Jaxx an extra ounce of stress. But Jaxx shrugged. “Sir, I have important information for you.”

“Oh? You’ve been studying the pyramids a bit?” There was hope in Martelle’s voice mixed with a tinge of excitement.

He couldn’t shoot the shit with him, so he’d give it to the president at point blank range. “I have evidence that Colonel Slade Roberson is planning an attack on the civilization living on Callisto.”

“There’s not a civilization currently living there.”

“It’s apparent there is, Sir.”

“Where’s the evidence?”

Jaxx put his hand on the wall and leaned. “They blew up an SSP Star Carrier. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Martelle huffed. “How do you know this?”

Jaxx’s stomach contracted. He’d have to spill the beans. “I saw it on Slade’s Lectern.”

“Slade didn’t inform me he’d sat you through the recording.”

Jaxx blinked a few times. “Hold on. You know about the Star Carrier?”

“I do and I don’t. Slade informed me.”

“But it’s worse than we know, Mr. President. I have seen documents on his Lectern. He won’t be heading back for a single soul on Earth.”

“That son of a bitch. What’s going on? Are you and Slade in on something together that I’m not privy to?”

He scrunched up his brow. “I’m not following, Sir.”

“How in God’s name do you know about Slade’s plans?”

“He’s aligning with the Kelhoons and the SSP to invade Callisto. And there’s something about a slave trade.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“The only surprise I have is that Slade intimately involved you with this information. And without my knowledge.”

“You know about this?”

“Yes.”

“Everything?” If the president had full knowledge, then he knew about the invasion.

“Jaxx, listen to me very carefully. In my eyes, you’re our most important asset. You’ll bring light and power from the pyramids to our new civilization, but don’t for one second think Slade has any charge over me. When I say we’re going to pick up those in the United States that we left behind, I mean it. And it will get done.”

“But the invasion?”

“I’ll handle that.”

“How will you handle it?”

Another pause. “Don’t worry.”

“You’re not going to stop the invasion, are you?”

“Stay there, Jaxx.”

Boots clacked down the corridor.

“Who’s coming?”

“Don’t be alarmed, but we’ve been looking for you for a while now. Stay there. Our troopers will escort you to your room.”

“I can get there by myself. Thank you, Mr. President.”

“I’d suggest to keep your feet planted firmly on the ground, Jaxx. I don’t want any more issues with you.”

“I’ll be fine, Sir. Heading to my room now.”

“Don’t you move, Jaxx.”

Slade wanted him dead, no doubt. And Martelle either wanted the same or wanted him under room arrest on board this ship.

“Turn around this ship. If you don’t, I will.”

The boots clacked louder, closer.

“We’re not changing course, Jaxx.”

Anger rose and he spoke under a clenched jaw. “I don’t trust Slade. Or you.” He took a step away from the office.

“Jaxx, stay there.”

Jaxx shook his head and rushed down the corridor. Martelle’s voice faded as he burst in a run around a corner. He had only one option now. Something he considered, but never did it cross his mind more than once. It didn’t matter who on this ship was powerful, important, genius or not, they all needed to die.

If this ship was the head of the main dragon that dared to end those lives on Callisto, he’d cut the head off and find a starfighter to blast this ship to hell and back.

He turned another corner and slowed. The launch bay doors were dead ahead.

25

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

The doors to the launch bay opened, sucking upward, disappearing into the ceiling. The clatter of boots were coming closer, the chatter of mechanics and techs clinging away at the myriad of starfighters, dropships, odd-looking dune buggies, and Jetson-like flying cars in front of her.

Reaching the bay, she knew she would be safe—relatively, unless the moron with a rifle trailing her decided to let loose with a barrage of weapon fire, putting everyone in the bay in danger, even himself. Any errant shot could hit a nuclear dynamo or an ion drive in a dropship’s power plant and set this entire starship on its way to high water in a matter of seconds.

But even morons weren’t that dumb.

“She is under arrest. Grab her,” a guard hollered.

A pilot, on the bay tarmac, and walking his way to a starfighter, heeded the call and dropped his helmet and charged. He got within two feet before he realized he just ran into a shit storm.

Without altering her course, she slapped him with an open palm and caught him with a knee to the side of the head as his body angled downward from the first blow. He was knocked out, eyes shut, and on the floor in under 1.3 seconds.

You’re losing your touch, Rivkah.

She swiped up his helmet and headed to a starfighter with an open cockpit. A hand grabbed the back of her shirt, tugging her onto her back, knocking the wind out of her, nearly paralyzing her. The helmet slid away from her as the man jumped on her. He pinned her to the ground.

“Rivkah!” The voice was like lightening, shattering the still.

Rivkah flung an elbow, missing her intended target—the guy who held her down. His eyes narrowed and he shoved her, then brought the butt of his rifle up, ready to strike.

“Rivkah!”

There was that voice again but she couldn’t turn. She had other problems. She put her hands up to block the rifle thrust just as the footsteps became louder. A whoosh of air breezed by her face, a body jumping over her and pummeling the man about to strike. The rifle flew from the man’s fingers and slid by Rivkah.

She didn’t know who saved her and she didn’t have a second to care.

She stood and ran, picking up the helmet. The helmet’s ID read 102, Dizzy. She put it on as she ran at full throttle toward to the starfighter. She looked over her shoulder and nearly stopped, seeing the man who saved her. He was landing blow after blow upon the guard.

Kaden Jaxx, her piece of shit hero wannabe. The son-of-a-bitch who had a magnetic pull to her heart so strong she wanted to pull a PR-8’s trigger and unload a magazine in his face.

I have issues.

Her mind raced and her shoulder ached. The wet drip of blood slid down her back. Should she help Jaxx? Leave him be? Was he really a sellout or had he just saved her? The oncoming mess of guards made her decision easy and made the decision easy for Jaxx, too. He dropped the guard and raced after Rivkah.

Now he’s coming after me?

She picked up her pace, quickly approaching an SF-13 Air Wing. Up the ladder, she plopped into the cockpit and started the starfighter’s engine, the vibration of the craft making her smile. “I’m back you mother-fuckers.”

She clicked the comm line. She gave her best male voice. “Pilot 102, call sign Dizzy, ready for take off.”

Static filled her helmet.

“This is Dizzy. Open launch tubes. I’m ready to fly out of here.”

“Dizzy, that’s a negative. We have a situation on the tarmac. Hold your position.”

She’d have to go to her old tricks. If she could, she’d just blast her way out, but she could tell the starship’s armor was too dense for her plasma cannons. If she punched a few missiles through the launch tubes, then Jaxx would bite the big one.

She wondered if Jaxx was doing alright, then pushed the thought out of her mind as quickly as it came.

She drove her starfighter forward, heading for a launch tube. “Asking for an Admiral’s Bell.”

Rarely used, an admiral always had a green light to leave a ship whenever necessary. In case of special emergencies, used on rarer occasions, a pilot could ask for the Admiral’s Bell and get a green light to enter a launch tube and leave the carrier or starship or cruiser. On even rarer occasions, it was actually approved.

“For what reason, 102?”

Rivkah pushed out her lower lip, inching her craft closer to the launch tube. “Hotel Sierra. I don’t want a nuclear mess right now. I’m carrying highly flammable experimental propulsion. I’m under orders from Colonel Slade Roberson and President Craig Martelle.” Hotel Sierra essentially meant, “Holy shit. I’m being targeted. Get me out of this mess.”

“Just a moment.”

She was just a few feet from the tube and mission control was most likely asking for Slade’s or Craig’s permission to execute an Admiral’s Bell. When they’d get no answer, mission control would have to make an executive decision. She knew Slade and Craig wouldn’t be easy to get in touch with, so maybe she had a shot at this.

“Uh...affirmative, 102. Tube opening.”

Two strokes of luck in one day? She wanted to flip her father the bird, but she wasn’t out of this mess yet.

She entered the tube and the tube door closed behind her. Amber runway lights highlighted her cockpit. The exit doors opened and displayed the stars of the universe before her, a beauty she would never get used to. She floated into her restraints, the gravity nil and she was weightless. She clicked to her Air Wing’s holographic display and pressed the launch button. Her boosters pushed her toward the exit. The tube’s lining zipped past her as she accelerated.

Mission Control hissed in her ear. “Closing tubes. You’re conducting an unauthorized launch. You’re not Dizzy. Identify yourself.”

She bared her teeth as the tube’s exit doors started to close. She zipped her finger over the holographic throttle, pushing it to the max. It made a safe launch dangerous and potentially deadly. Her craft shuttered as her wing slid across the tube, scraping off chunks of paint and shards of metal. The door was closing fast. She wasn’t going to make it.

She tensed and held her breath. She pushed her feet into the floor board. She wasn’t going to make it, so she had to risk the insane.

She clicked on her Space to Space Short Range Missiles—SSSRM-23 Slingers—and targeted the exit door, and let one loose. The Air Wing shuddered. A blue streak of fire shot out the back of the missile, propelling toward the end of the tube. A ball of bluish-white flames ignited the moment of impact. The door ripped off its hinges and spiraled into space. The flame died in the vacuum of the cosmos a moment later as Rivkah exited the tube, banking hard right. She knew the starship would fire the moment she came into their sights.

And she was right.

The Air Wing’s targeting alarm blared and her HUD indicated incoming fire. The starship’s plasma cannons spun in place and the turrets moved in position. From rear cam view, Rivkah saw approaching plasma bolts.

She pulled the control stick in one direction and then another, and zig-zagged. She shoved the stick to one side and spiraled. The bolts missed on her starboard and traveled toward the red planet in the distance.

The target lock alerts ceased. She scrunched her nose and brought up her HUD. Was there a malfunction? Had a bolt caught a sensor and warped it?

No. The starship stopped firing.

Why?

Her answer came an instant later. A Star Carrier jumped from God-knows-where to right in her flight trajectory. She pulled back on her control stick and avoided a head-on collision. A destroyer popped into existence, then a cruiser, two frigates, and a patrol ship. And one by one, more of an SSP fleet jumped into the quadrant.

She veered left, then pushed her stick forward, going into a quick dive, adjusting her throttle to sub-light .30. Once out of collision-factor, she’d adjust to sub-light 2.5 and hightail the hell out of Dodge. If her Air Wing had the Alcubierre Metric like the larger ships, a solution to Einstein’s field equations, then the Metric would allow her craft to create an artificial wormhole that lasted only seconds before closing in on itself. This would allow her to traverse enormous distances by contracting space in front of her craft and expanding space behind it, resulting in faster-than-light travel. It would place her far from here.

But her ship didn’t possess the large propulsion system. She’d have to do it the old-fashioned way and fly as far and as fast as she could.

A ship appeared on her helmet display. Another SF-13 Air Wing had exited the Starship Atlantis. It flew in her direction.

“Just one?”

She expected an entire squadron. One starfighter against her would be suicide—for the other pilot.

Another ship shot from the starship.

Yep. They were sending more. And more.

“Put up or shut up,” she said. “It’s show time.”

26

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

She left, rocketing out of the launch tube. Jaxx had saved her again and she wouldn’t care, or wouldn’t know. The alarms were blaring and the lights in the launch bay blinked red and yellow. Jaxx punched a guard one more time before he realized he’d spent too much time with this young man. He managed to spin away from an incoming soldier and put his foot out, tripping the camo-loving, taking-orders-from-the-wrong-side grunt. The guy landed face first and tumbled to his side.

Guards rushed past the launch bay doors, coming directly for Jaxx. A special agent, wearing a striated-ebb nebula titanium exo-suit, the most bad ass in the Secret Space Program—Jaxx didn’t know how he knew the specifications of the suit—limped inside the bay. The agent’s hand went to his exo-suit at where his belly button would be. Whoever was inside that suit looked in bad shape and Jaxx hadn’t even faced the man yet.

Jaxx ducked another attempt by the grunt he’d tripped and kneed the guy in the groin. The grunt dropped to the floor. He then brought every emotion to the surface, every inch of disappointment, anger, frustration—the times he was ridiculed for his work by people who hadn’t studied or took the time to read more than a few paragraphs of his massively researched articles, books, and talks…

The power coursed through his veins, stronger than before, stronger than ever. Then a calm and peace overtook him and his body relaxed. He stood straighter and focused, eyes on the target—the staggering agent in the exo-suit. The agent grabbed at a rifle magnetized to his exo-suit’s back.

Jaxx bared his teeth. He narrowed his eyes and pushed outwards with his hands, palms up, as if balls of energy would actually shoot from his hands. He watched the invisible ball smack into the titanium-wearing space marine. It then catapulted the agent into a throng of oncoming soldiers.

With his adrenaline pumping, Jaxx looked at his hands. “What in the world?” He could get use to this, but each time something like this occurred, it spun him for a loop. Thinking it unwise to gawk any longer, Jaxx turned on his heels and rushed to an open cockpit Air Wing and climbed the ladder. He jumped onto the seat, quickly pressing the aircraft canopy’s close button.

He searched for a helmet. It wasn’t there. Shit. That’s the only way Shaughnessy told him how to turn on the vortex Doppler system, Adaptive Boost, and get the frequency code dialed on the comm line and send it to the portal. He may need that.

To live, he needed to escape. By now, they knew it was him and they wouldn’t open up a damn thing, not even an air duct, for him. If he blasted the tubes with some Slingers or AAIM-5 Darts, and it punched a hole in the ship or broke open a few of the tubes, he’d be sending hundreds of people who worked in the bay to an ultimate end—death by space.

But ending this ship was his new goal.

He clicked on the comm line, wishing he had his helmet with him. He could do everything he wanted without a helmet, but reaching for dials, levers, and holographic buttons may be the instant he needed to use voice commands to get himself out of a deadly dog fight.

“Mission Control, open a launch tube.” He drove the Air Wing forward.

“Negative. You’re unauthorized to launch.”

“I’m blasting the shit out of the launch tubes if you don’t open one. That would compromise everyone in this bay, including you.”

“You are not authorized. I’m ordered to shut down the entire bay. No one is coming in and no one is going out.”

Jaxx clicked on the holographic AAIM-5 Dart icon, readying it for launch. “I have a Dart ready. You going to open up the tube, yet?”

“Negative.”

“It’s your funeral.” He aimed left, targeting the wall. It wouldn’t puncture, but it would leave a mighty explosion, and he was still far enough away that it wouldn’t damage his fighter.

He wiped his forehead. He was sweating, profusely, his hand shaking. “Here goes.” He dropped his hand to the control stick, switched to plasma cannons, and pulled the trigger.

Zoooshaaa! Bright flashes erupted from his port and starboard. Electric-blue bolts hit the wall several feet from a launch tube. The heat blanketed his cockpit. A reddish-orange light highlighted the bay, and he instinctively put his forearm up to guard his face.

He turned his starfighter around and faced Mission Control. Dozens of officers and bay crew members pushed themselves to a standing position, eyes wide. Jaxx shifted his target to an Air Wing and let loose.

Bolts, followed by red tracer fire, erupted against an empty Air Wing. The cockpit window tore from its fasteners, spinning to the ground. The shots split through the forward integral energy tanks, and the Air Wing buckled. The craft exploded and rocketed debris throughout the bay. What was left of the ship was in a blaze of fire.

Guards dove and ducked, mechanics and techs ran out of the bay.

He readied a missile. “Mission Control. I’m not shitting you. I’ll light you up.”

No response. He looked around. The bay doors were closing and people rushed toward it and slid under the doors.

He rotated his ship back around, facing the closed launch tubes. He had to get this right. If he broke open a launch tube, his Air Wing would be sucked out almost immediately. He’d have to guide the thing perfectly without damaging his wings—if he could get the hole big enough for a safe vacuum ride out.

He readied his Darts and targeted two tubes. That wouldn’t be enough. He readied two SSSRM-23 Slingers to launch a split second after the Darts. Slingers were heavier, caused more damage, and would open up a large enough hole to get his butt off this ship.

“Here’s for wishful thinking.” He pressed the trigger, one flame, then two shot from each wing. The missiles slammed into the tubes. A fire cloud flared then was quickly sucked into the dark void as space opened up before him. He didn’t have time to think. He pushed his throttle forward while being inhaled by the pull of the cosmos. He zipped through the opening with a myriad of unoccupied ships following him, spinning in the darkness of space.

He cranked his control stick to avoid a Star Frigate. Out here, giant ships were everywhere and they weren’t the ones from Starship Atlantis’s launch bay. “What the hell? The SSP fleet?”

He swung his Air Wing around to avoid another frigate flying too close to Starship Atlantis. A holy-shit Star Carrier brightened in the distance. He gulped. The Secret Space Program had entered the star quadrant. But it wouldn’t deter him. His mission? Kill Starship Atlantis and every last soul on the ship. It would stop a Solar System war which may lead to a galactic war.

His cockpit blared with a beeping alert. He brought his eyes to the holographic display on his flight console. Starships bared down on him, most likely from the SSP fleet. Missiles fired. Twelve seconds to impact if he stayed where he was.

He pulled away. It was him and Starship Atlantis, face to face. Then Atlantis pulled away as well, its afterburners sending blue flames out its stern. Jaxx pushed the throttle forward and accelerated, and then pushed the control stick down. A gasp flew past his lips as he narrowly avoided a frigate that moved closer to block his attempt to end Slade and his political allies.

Six seconds and the missiles would hit. Without enough time to get to Starship Atlantis, he changed trajectory and hugged one side of the Frigate.

Two seconds.

One.

He cranked the control stick and accelerated toward the frigate’s bow. The big lug of a ship dipped and shook. Blast after blast nailed its port side, Jaxx successfully using the ship as a shield.

A pull came from his solar plexus and tugged at him. The pull was strong and almost caused him to lurch forward. Rivkah? He knew she was out here. And her thoughts were on him. She probably cursed his name for some damn thing he couldn’t remember he’d done in the past.

A handful of starfighters approached. He took a fleeting glance at Starship Atlantis. It gained distance, and he’d be in a hot mess with Starfighters on his ass, not to mention other, larger craft if he attempted to blow the starship apart. It’d take more than a half a dozen passes, if not more to do the killing deed and who knew how many missiles and cannon blasts.

He changed flight direction, and flew toward the middle of the newly arrived SSP fleet, though aimed his Air Wing toward Rivkah’s pull. He glanced at his radar and could see her craft’s signature. She headed away from the fleet. He needed her call sign and number for radio privacy. He tapped a few buttons on the flight console and targeted her craft—102, Identification: Dizzy.

He glanced at his rear cam view screen and bit his lip. A few more SSP frigates surrounded Starship Atlantis. His plan was more than thwarted. Wiping the sweat off his face, Jaxx pushed more thrust in the Air Wing and headed toward the Star Carrier.

With starfighters still on his tail, his erratic movements either kept their fingers from pulling the trigger or he was too close to the fleet’s ships.

He pushed down on his control stick and guided his ship under the Star Carrier, then patched 102 into his comm line. “Rivkah, this is Jaxx. Do you copy? Clear.”

The line came alive. “Watch your six.”

His heart rose at the sound of her voice, then plummeted with her response. She was all business. She was as happy to hear his voice as a bird was to see a cat.

“Rivkah, I’m going to steer you to a star portal. We’re getting out of here, but you have to turn around and head toward Mars.”

“A what? And, no, not turning around. Have a good day. See you on the other side. Out.”

“Rivkah, listen to me. This is our only escape.”

No response.

“Rivkah!”

Again, nothing.

“Dammit.” He veered in her direction. He’d get her to the portal if he had to throw a line and hook and tug her along.

He went to turn on Adaptive Boost. The problem was, he didn’t have a helmet to voice that command into the cockpit’s console. But, a button or a lever had to be somewhere.

He leaned forward. The restraining straps stretched with him. Eyeing everything on the control panel, Jaxx whispered, “Where in star-piss is it?”

Adaptive Boost was either invisible or he was blind to that specific button.

A long beep and he clutched the control stick with both hands. His heart skipped a nervous beat. His craft shuttered and debris hit his cockpit window like a quick downpour of hail.

He veered. And just in time. He dodged another small frigate. Those bastards were everywhere. “Rivkah, can you pull up Adaptive Boost and let me know where the star portal is? I need to know now.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jaxx.”

His cockpit beeped. “What the—”

Twenty incoming bandits—all Air Wings. And they weren’t there to escort him to the star portal.

He throttled to sub-light 3.1 and pulled back on his control stick, positioning himself to fly in the middle of the fleet. This way, he could play cat and mouse, he the mouse, using the large fleet ships as cover. If he hugged a ship, the bandits wouldn’t fire.

“Rivkah, I can get us out of here, but you have trust me. You’ll have a dozen bogeys on your butt if you don’t. And soon.”

No reply.

A dozen Air Wings broke from formation and headed for Rivkah. Yet, she didn’t alter her craft’s course.

Jaxx zipped by a destroyer and inched as close to its armor as he could. Nine Air Wings, plus an Oospor Dropship, followed.

“Rivkah, I’m heading for Mars. Hang a hard and wide loop and get as far from the bandits as possible. And, for God’s sakes, turn on your Doppler and send me the vortex coordinates.”

His craft shook as shards of cluster slugs slapped against his Air Wing.

“Rivkah, at least send me the coordinates and upload the vortex onto my holographic display.”

Silence.

He clenched his fist. Had he screwed her up that badly? How big of an ass had he been to her? He pushed down on his control stick and slid his ship under a Star Cruiser. He steered toward a vortex he had no location for.

The Air Wings and Oospor closed in. He notched his speed to Sub Light 3.4, zipping by a fast-moving Star Destroyer. There were only a few more fleet ships in front of him then it was just him, empty space, and then Mars; the planet’s glow filled the local cosmos like a street lamp on a clear, crisp night.

He had to stay within the confines of the fleet, though. He couldn’t risk it. He pulled up.

The radar popped up on the holographic display. One of the Air Wings in the back of the pack blipped off the screen, then another vanished. He squished his brows together.

He switched to exterior vid cams and everything in a wide tunnel radius behind him came up on the display. He zoomed in with the camera and caught an Air Wing piloted by Rivkah. In the back of the pack, she fired missiles at another starfighter at the formation’s rear. The starfighter exploded into a fiery reddish-blue, then fizzed out.

The Air Wings broke formation, except for the Oospor, still closing in.

Rivkah was helping.

An infrared vid popped up on the holoscreen. A swirl fluctuated in and out of the vid. It pulsed like a heartbeat, vanishing and reappearing with a ghost-like appearance. A haze of two energy circles of equal radius were in the middle of the spiral. A portion of the second circle overlapped the first, creating what looked like an opening; a portal.

“The Vesica Pisces,” said Jaxx. He knew sacred geometry better than any archaeologist alive. “The bridge portal.” The Atlanteans on Callisto had most likely created it for a straight-shot flight to Callisto. All they had to do was match the portal frequency with the doorway frequency—another portal outside the Jupiter moon—voilà, anyone could travel without using Alcubierre Metric, which drained a large portion of a ship’s generators.

“There… happy now?” It was Rivkah, her voice revved with anger. She wanted to go her way, but probably knew that the only way to safety—if that word existed in her vocabulary—was to follow the asshole she blamed everything on; Jaxx.

Jaxx came out from under a miles-long, miles-wide ship, and veered, the Oospor dead on his rear. He glanced at his radar. “Rivkah, can you send the coordinates of the star portal and then get this Oospor off my ass?”

The coordinates popped up. Just as he remembered. The portal nearly touched Mars’s magnetosphere. He patched the coordinates into his control panel and veered in the opposite direction, just as another cluster shot came his way.

His radar beeped. The Air Wings had come back into formation and he was their main target. He turned his Air Wing dial to Sub Light 3.5 and blasted past the last ship in the fleet. It was just Jaxx, empty space in front of him, and the star portal.

The Oospor moved at a quick, slight angle on his radar. It had been hit. Good job, Rivkah. Jaxx sat straighter, then slightly slumped the moment the Oospor regained speed and trajectory. The Oospor pilot steered the ship back into its projected path and made his way toward Jaxx.

The supposed coordinates were up ahead. The Oospor slipped away as Rivkah pounded it even more with her cannons. The Air Wings were now his major threat. They approached fast.

“Rivkah, tap in 51008 in your comm line. Then transmit it continuously. It’s the only way in and out of the star portal.”

No response. He checked his radar. She continued to chase the Oospor. A dozen more Air Wings were now in pursuit.

His pulse rose. Everyone closed in on him. He throttled up, aiming at Mars, targeting the star portal coordinates.

“Again, listen to me. You have to do this to survive. Patch 51008 into your comm line and create a continued transmission. I’m doing so now and I’ll be on radio silence, so you won’t be able to speak with me until I end the frequency transmission. I hope you hear me. Please, Rivkah. I’m pleading with you. Do this.”

“Bite me, Jaxx. I got it. I’m en-route. Clear.”

Overwhelmed with relief, he imagined throwing his arms around her in an elated hug. “Excellent. Follow me.” He switched his comm line dial from Rivkah’s private comm to the star portal frequency. In theory, he and his craft would vanish in less than a minute. The Air Wing pilots, who probably thought he was flying to Mars where he would dodge and dogfight with them planet-side, would probably piss their pants when he disappeared in front of their eyes. He just hoped his theory was sound. If it wasn’t, he was facing the well-known FUBAR—fudged-up-beyond-all-recognition.

The problem: The Air Wings didn’t have to worry about hitting a friendly anymore and Jaxx’s cockpit lit up with alarms.

He checked the radar. Rivkah was behind the pursuing starfighters. The Oospor was off in the distance, probably in need of desperate repair from Rivkah’s ravaging. You don’t mess with Riv in a fight. Ever.

Ten seconds to hope, ten seconds to the portal.

A loud, continuous beep resounded in his cockpit. Missiles had been launched, no doubt screaming their way toward him in the soundless vacuum of space.

He wasn’t changing course. Not a chance. He couldn’t and the mess of SSSRM-23 Slingers fired at him weren’t, either.

More alarms, more missiles, and he was less than seconds from the portal. Which would hit first? His craft into the portal or the missiles into him? He closed his eyes in anticipation. A static-sound erupted in his cockpit and his Air Wing rumbled like a car in an earthquake. His eyes shot wide open and blue, yellow, and orange lightning streaks twirled around his ship. A tube opened before him. It sucked him in like light to a wormhole.

His ship rattled, his holographic instrument panel shorted in and out as his ship catapulted at an incredible speed down a blue lit tunnel that rotated around him.

“Please, Rivkah. I hope you followed me,” he whispered to himself.

His craft buffeted and spun. Lights of every color shrouded his cockpit, clouds of electric gases and more lightning erupted, creating a dizzying display. The static-sound stopped and he heard a low, deep rumble like thunder. Another lightning bolt cut through the gases and then shifted, blanketing him with clouds of pale whites and reds.

His mouth fell open. Where the hell was he? He couldn’t see anything except the colorful clouds. Startled, another crack of thunder rumbled around his Air Wing. He checked his holoscreen, pulling up his radar.

According to his ship’s data, he was near Ganymede, a Jupiter moon. And Europa, Io, Lysithea, Elara, Autonoe, and the radar identification went on and on, until it came to Callisto—his destination. But, where was he? He brought up his own location and about jumped out of his seat. He was in Jupiter’s upper atmosphere.

He went to adjust his throttle and steer his craft out of Jupiter’s atmosphere, through the exosphere, and into space. He halted when a voice blared over his comm line. “Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx, this is Executive Officer Katherine Bogle. We’ll retain your ship’s controls.”

27

M-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Starship Atlantis

Spit jumped out of President Craig Martelle’s mouth as he spoke. His face was red and his eyes were wild. “You lost Jaxx? You had a kill team on him? Are you mad, Slade? What’re we going to do when we get to Callisto? He was the key.”

Slade crossed his arms, his brows creased. He stood erect, his chin high, his chest out. He wanted to slap the president. Slap him, hog tie him, and push him out an air lock. No one told Slade that he screwed up. No one.

“What are you doing to get him back?”

“Captain Richard Fox is on it, Mr. President.” Stone-faced, Slade stared at Martelle—eyeball to eyeball. If it hadn’t been for Slade, none of their objectives would have been met. Slade wasn’t taking the President and the entire Democratic and Republican Party on some joy ride. It had taken him years to create a program big enough to pull off a space mission of this magnitude and if it hadn’t been for the random Callisto discovery in May, the President would have been be itching his crotch in a nervous twitch that his cabinet, his family, and his Republic would still be in the crosshairs of Earth’s coming changes. In short, Slade had saved their damned asses and set them on a course to conquer the stars. Admiral Gentry Race made a mistake by a tinge by opening fire on Callisto; and Fox was half way to Mars in a hot froth about killing Jaxx; but other than that, it wasn’t a total failure.

“This is a total failure, Slade.”

“Noted, Mr. President. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”

He pushed through the entourage, ignoring Craig’s mounting quibbles and concerns. Slade was more than done with this Jaxx character. He should have killed the archaeologist and Rivkah when he had the chance. Slade let them linger around him for far too long and because he had a plan, a script that Jaxx and Rivkah were supposed to follow, and he wasn’t used to people going improv on him.

He tapped on his shoulder comm. “Andrea Cross. Is everything set up?”

“Yes,” she replied. “We have a private room waiting for you.”

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Slade walked into a stairwell and descended a few decks. Pushing the door open into a lobby, he paced along, his posture strong. Entering a hall, he stopped at the first door and ran his ID across the control panel. The door beeped and slid upward.

“Right this way, Colonel.” A woman, dark brown hair swept up in a chignon, greeted him. She wore a white lab coat, much like the one Dr. Donny used to wear. Doc Donny was his old hypnotherapy tech and physician, killed by friendly fire down in Underfoot Black.

“Thank you, Andrea.” He strode forward, following her into another room.

She gave him a curt nod. “Have a seat here and we’ll hook you up.”

He took a seat next to an IV stand and Dr. Cross rubbed the crook of his arm with a numbing cream just below his bicep. She slipped a needle under his skin. The other end of the needle was attached to plastic tubing with a medication administration port, roller clamp, and drip chamber.

She exited the room and returned shortly with a bag of blood in her hand. A large white sticker was over it with the name, Kaden Jaxx, on the front.

“Are you sure about this, Colonel?”

Slade gave a shallow grin. His deep piercing eyes cut through Dr. Cross as if he was looking at someone else. “Sure as shit I am.”

* * *

Captain Richard Fox stood in front of his control panel, his titanium elastic alloy boots magnetized to the floor, his PR-8—Plasma Rifle—magnetized to the back of his titanium suit. Weapons batteries strapped to his belt, flash grenades clipped to his shoulder, he had two vibroknifes magnetically stuck to his leg armor as well.

To say he was prepared for a fight was an understatement.

The Oospor he’d snagged, however, wasn’t the space fighting type. It could wreak havoc on the ground, but all it had in the air and in space were a few lucky shots and speed.

He patted his control panel. “Let’s get back in this.”

Rivkah had shot his craft up nicely. At the moment, he was out of the chase, far from the pack of Air Wings.

He glared at his vid screen, Mars highlighted space in front of him. The Air Wings were like blue dots and shrunk smaller and smaller the farther they flew from him. Rivkah was lost in that mess. If Jaxx was going to Mars, then all the better. He could mess up the nitwit archaeologist there.

He went to push the throttle when a strange frequency code came through his comm line, the numbers showing up on his holographic display console.

51008.

He throttled up and blasted his ship toward the Air Wings. He’d catch them soon. They didn’t fly in a straight line, avoiding weapon’s fire, dog fighting—evading. So he’d fly straight as possible.

He patched in 51008. “Who is on this line? Clear.”

The comm line replied with static. Why would he be sent this frequency code?

An image popped up on his vid screen. “An energy vortex?”

He typed in 110 on his comm line; Mission Control. The comm line went back to 51008.

He patched in 110 again. For a moment it stuck, then to 51008.

He scrunched up his nose and lowered his brows. Confused, Fox veered toward the vector coordinates for the energy vortex. He attempted Mission Control again. For a moment, 110 stuck.

“Am I being asked to rendezvous at coordinates—”

The comm line bounced to 51008.

“I must be.”

He throttled to Sub-light 3.3.

Ten seconds to rendezvous point.

The pack of Air Wings flew through the coordinates—the energy vortex—then a few banked right and the rest banked left. They circled the coordinates Fox was headed toward. Yet, they were confused. What was going on? Where was the dogfight?

Almost on top of the coordinates, he slowed his ship. An instant later, electricity hit his Oospor and surrounded it; bolts of lightning splintered in front and all around.

The craft shuddered, then zipped forward as if pulled by an invisible force. He reversed thrusts. Nothing happened. His controls were out of control.

The space in front of him changed from starlit black. Facing Mars, a tunnel of blue electric energy spun like domesticated lightning. His comm line held the frequency code and his holographic dials twirled rapidly.

He pulled back on his control stick.

Nothing.

He dropped his arms by his side. The cockpit lit up in white and blue. He shifted on his feet and crossed his armored arms across his metallic chest. He had to wait it out. He’d been through too much combat to have any anxiety over the unknown. It was part of his life. A part he no longer feared.

But the dropship not cooperating irked him.

His craft stopped and red, yellow, green, and gold clouds of energy dispersed outward as his dropship came to a full halt. Something caught it; something powerful.

A beep came through his comm. “Welcome, Captain Fox. I hope you remember who I am.”

28

Unknown

Rivkah jolted awake and sat. The last thing she remembered she was in some type of hazy reddish, purplish cloud after she followed Jaxx into the star portal, or whatever that dumbass called it. Now, she was in a room, no, a dome—and made from crystal?

She twirled around. She had been laying on a bed of some type, soft in texture, but also crystalline in nature. It glowed with an inner warmth. Not much inside at all, except the bed and the dome walls, which acted as a soft light that highlighted a cobblestone floor.

A strange sensation pulsed from her chest and up her throat. Then a sting zapped her skull. The sensation split like roots, and a bright light flashed in her mind’s eye. She gasped as she slapped her chest with her hand. Something hard and smooth was embedded in her skin—a blue crystal-like device.

Lips down-turning, she scowled. “More experiments?” Would they ever leave her alone? Last month had been a bitch. She’d been in a place she didn’t want to be—Underfoot Black—where they experimented on her for who knows what, and here she was again, being a guinea pig for God knows who.

She picked at the device and tried to flick it off. When it wouldn’t budge, she pinched it between her index finger and thumb. She twisted it to pry it loose. It didn’t hurt. It didn’t pinch. And it didn’t move.

She thought of Jaxx. He has led me into shit storm after shit storm. Will I ever learn?

He was like that dreaded carrot and she was the donkey.

But Jaxx wasn’t around her at the moment. She knew it. If he was, the creepy magnetic pull that seemed to continually draw them together would indicate he was close by.

She took a deep breath, then exhaled. Hopefully Jaxx was far, far away, and she wouldn’t be possessed by the strange, odd powers she hated more than him. Powers that only worked when she was in close proximity to him. And it was screwed up that she missed him and loathed him at the same time. Missed his beating heart flowing through her veins, missed his archaeologist-geek alter ego telling her his boring theories and findings. She missed the pilot who could out-fly anyone in the cosmos, even her.

The connection was gone and she was alone. Cursing his name would do nothing.

She stood and the bed vanished. She jumped back in a start and waved her hand in and out of the space that was once the bed. “How—”

A couple of knocks echoed inside the dome and Rivkah turned, her arms and hands in her standard Muay Thai defensive position.

A woman who wore a Secret Space Program uniform, folded her hands in front of her, and faced Rivkah. The woman appeared out of nowhere.

“I’m sorry to bother you. They wanted me to talk with you.” She looked down, sheepish. Her shoulders drooped forward like a fearful dog. She glanced up and corrected herself by straightening into an erect posture. “You’re one of my heroes.”

That was last thing Rivkah wanted to hear. It was the last thing she’d ever consider being. She laughed. Flattery would go nowhere, except up their asses. She lowered her eyes. “No one puts their hands on me. No more.” She eyed the walls as if they were one-way windows, and as if scientists observed her from the other side. “I’ll die before I let you touch one hair on me, and I’ll take many of you with me.”

The woman took a step forward. She whispered, “I don’t trust them, either.”

“I don’t trust you, Missy.” Rivkah raised her back leg high in an overextended kick, then brought it down as hard as she could.

The woman reacted slowly and covered her head with her hands and arms, ducking and screeching.

Mere inches from the back of the woman’s head, Rivkah’s foot stopped and an electric shock ran through her. Something yanked Rivkah away. Her heel missed the intended target.

Rivkah fell to the floor. The dome vanished. In its place was a garden of trees, bushes, and flowers. Beneath her hands was a slate path. It led to a forest of strange trees.

Rivkah stood and stepped back. “Who are you?”

“I’m Executive Officer Katherine Bogle.”

Rivkah ignored Bogle and gazed at a large Greek-like Parthenon on a hill in the distance with more odd-looking trees around it. “Are you part of the Secret Space Program?”

“Yes,” said Bogle. “I’m here now, though, and I’m just as confused as you. Probably more so. And right now, I don’t know where the Secret Space Program is.”

Rivkah backed up more. “This is a trick. A trap.”

“No,” Bogle shook her head. “Well...maybe...”

“Well, what the hell do you know?” Bogle was worthless. Rivkah continued to walk backward, her feet on the rock path that led to the forest. A forest of rainbow colors. Forests shouldn’t look like that.

“She knows little, my child. She is scared and expresses her fear differently than you,” said a voice from the trees where Rivkah headed.

Rivkah spun on her heels, fists up and ready to strike.

A woman, blond hair, blue eyes, strolled out of the forest, her long gown dragging on the path. “You are to help us, Captain Rivkah Ravenwood.”

Rivkah clinched her fists tighter. She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t come near me.”

“The prophecies state you and two others will help us. One is the key. One is the bull. You are the whisperer.” She pointed to Bogle. “She is the calm to you three’s storm.”

Rivkah rotated her back foot. She was ready to kick some ass. If she had to live her life fighting every day for the freedom she desired, so be it. She wasn’t going to fight for anyone else, especially not this woman before her. She spat on the ground. No more experiments. No more confusion. No more pain.

“I am Liberty Speidel and we’re not here to harm you. You’ll fight with us at your own free will.”

“Woman, you’re talking crazy.”

Liberty continued forward.

Rivkah stood fast.

“I don’t speak crazily. I speak with purpose and with truth. I speak with the Light of the Law of One. I am Liberty.”

Now a few feet from Rivkah, Rivkah jumped and directed a perfectly placed kick on this Liberty’s chest. Liberty caught it at the moment of impact and twisted, then bent on one knee and pushed upward with Rivkah’s foot. Rivkah fell hard on her back and rolled away, recovering quickly, and threw a right hook.

In a flash, the woman moved out of the way, then extended her hand outward. “Enough.”

A rush overcame Rivkah and a force rooted her to the ground. Her breath came hard and she energetically pushed the heaviness off her chest. Liberty’s power faltered. Rivkah dropped to her side, the wind knocked out of her. She clutched her stomach, gasping for breath.

“Captain Rivkah Ravenwood, are you okay?” A hand grasped Rivkah’s shoulder, then let go. “Liberty, leave Rivkah alone.”

Bogle stood between Liberty and Rivkah as a human shield.

Liberty dipped her head at Rivkah. “That is why we need you. Your mix of humanity and Atlantean is stronger than mine. Yet you are untrained and unskilled, which makes your power useless.”

Rivkah sat in a kneeling position, her breath coming slower, easier. “I’m not going to fight for you.”

“We wouldn’t allow it unless you trained and trained well,” replied Liberty.

“I’m not training.” She slowly stood. “I don’t know you, so why should I save you.”

“Save us?” Liberty cracked a smile. “No one here needs saving. We only hope you unlock the key. When the key is unlocked, so are you and the two others.”

“You can’t unlock a key, lady,” said Rivkah, rubbing her back. She glanced around to find a way of escape.

“In this context, key means two things. Key is what unlocks the door and key is the vital component to what is coming to our city, the city you stand in, Flood of Dawn. You’ll unlock the key, so the key can unlock the door. It’s up to the three to open the door.”

“The three?” God, the woman talks in riddles. The glass dome surrounding the city shimmered in a bluish-white haze. How the hell could she get out of here?

“You may leave when you so choose. In the forest and under its canopy of trees is a space craft.” Liberty gestured toward the forest. “Captain Katherine Bogle, you may join her.”

Rivkah shot a look at Bogle, then walked past Liberty without a second glance.

“Wait up,” said Bogle.

Rivkah rolled her eyes.

They walked around a downed branch near a tree a creature was crawling down. The creature moved like a caterpillar, though looked like a koala bear with a long, black and yellow ringed tail. Rivkah ignored it.

They came around a bend on the slated path and to a clearing where a wide transport craft sat waiting. Rivkah walked under its belly, touching the sleek body.

Pftcheeeee!

Rivkah and Bogle stepped back as a ramp descended from the middle of the craft, then shook as it touched the ground.

Rivkah shrugged. “It can’t be that easy.” Nothing in life was that easy.

Bogle crossed her arms at her stomach, holding herself tight. “Shall we go up there?”

Rivkah put a hand out. “Do you think these people would kill us? Or try to cause us harm in any way?” It was an honest question and all Rivkah wanted to see was Bogle’s reaction. It would tell her everything.

Bogle sniffed, shaking her head. “I don’t think so.”

“I see.” Rivkah moved up the ramp into a cockpit not much different than the Bulg transport ships she’d flown in the past. In fact, she wondered who stole who’s technology.

These cockpits were large, held several seats, and a holographic control panel.

Bvvvvvvv! Shhcah!

Rivkah and Bogle looked over their shoulders. The ramp had closed.

Rivkah pursed her lips and placed her hands on her hips. “That’s my cue to get out of town.”

Bogle came around the co-pilot chair. “I’ll take a seat.”

Rivkah sat and observed the flight console, taking in what looked familiar and what she would have to learn on the fly. She fingered her collar and gave a quick glance at Bogle. “Sit. Jump. Fart. I don’t care. Do what you want. I’m no longer captain of anybody.” She swallowed hard. “But myself.”

The craft lifted and Bogle fell into her seat. “Why did you do that?” she asked, and before Rivkah could answer, their seat restraints automatically wrapped around them, practically suctioning them to their chair.

The craft ascended and broke through the sparse forest canopy. It hovered in place. The domed city was like a framed picture. A massive lake was set in the distance, several rivers flowed to it, along with boats that traversed along the lake and rivers. A white temple stood behind the lake, a landing pad next to it where several crafts were parked. And tree forts everywhere?

These people are nuts.

Rivkah grasped the control stick, then pushed the holographic throttle. The craft didn’t move. She swatted the control stick and leaned back, hands behind her neck, biting on every nasty word she could come up with.

“What do—”

“Not a word.” Rivkah put a finger up, cutting Bogle off. Another race, yet the same results. She had no control of anything, especially her own life. Her dad would be laughing in his grave. Cole was right. She had daddy issues. She had a hydrogen bomb full of daddy issues.

The craft buffeted and turned. A door opened on the glass-like dome. The craft shot forward and through the dome then dipped and hugged the barren, dry land, and headed toward a mountain range.

It flew fast and ascended up the mountain cliffs, finally rising over the lip of a mountain where a group of pyramids came into view. Their golden apexes glowed, sending electric, lightening-like energy to a large obelisk.

Rivkah gripped the chair’s armrests.

“Let me talk,” said Bogle.

Rivkah shook her head no.

The transport veered, descending low on the wide expanse before them. It flew over a thin creek and small shrubs. Ice crystals topped spindly trees’ branches.

The craft banked and bucked into a wide, horizontal arc, mere inches from a hill. Over the hill, a statue came into view.

“Princess Leia,” said Bogle. “That’s what the crew on Star Warden had called it.”

The statue’s head gear glowed and off in the expanse, large turrets moved, aimed, pulled back, then fired electric bolt shots to the east, one after another, never stopping, never relenting.

Clouds of rock and debris puffed outward into massive clouds miles away from each continuous bolt impact. From Rivkah’s point of view, Liberty’s people were causing a smoke screen to most likely hold back a ground invasion.

Bogle pointed. “They’re holding off an attack.”

Rivkah leaned forward, her curiosity overtaking her stoicism. “Perhaps, or they’re pounding an attack.”

She touched the joystick and pulled it back. Again, the craft continued on its own trajectory, ignoring Rivkah’s efforts.

Their craft flew at the long, clouded vista that spread the entirety of the horizon. The bolts slammed into the ground and whatever was being masked behind it, they’d see soon enough.

29

Unknown

Jaxx’s eyes were closed. A warm drop of water landed on his forehead and between his eyebrows. The next drop was cold. He batted it away. Another drop; warm. He wiped his forehead and opened his eyes, seeing another drop falling from a white, translucent ceiling.

It landed between his eyes. He sat and rubbed the back of his head.

He yawned. Running his hands back and forth on his pants, Jaxx did his best to wake himself and get his bearings. He was in a dome with grass as the floor. Another man, his size, was lying on a crystal-like bed next to him.

Jaxx stood. His bed vanished and he jerked away. “Whoa!” Bending down, he inspected the area where his bed once was. He poked a hand through it and felt nothing but air. “Strange.”

Folding his arms against his chest, Jaxx eyed the wide, glowing wall. The ceiling was two stories high at the apex, and the dome’s width no bigger than a medium-sized yurt.

No exit.

How the hell did he get in here? The last thing he remembered was someone telling him they were taking over the controls of his Air Wing. Then nothing. Blackness. Sleep.

He stroked the back of his neck. The Air Wing. The frequency code. The Vesica Pisces; the bridge portal—the vortex. He smiled. The escape. His smile widened. It worked. His theory worked and it allowed him to escape.

He jumped, throwing a fist in the air. “Suck it. Yeah, I’m talking to you. I want every archaeologist that ever doubted me to suck. On. It. Or, to rephrase it better, everyone.” Not that this proved anything or that his theories were bullet proof and one-million percent correct. It’s just that his most recent idea came to fruition in a matter of seconds and worked shortly thereafter.

But, where was he? On Callisto? If so, a civilization of advanced Beings obviously lived on this moon and built the dome he was in.

He ran his hand down a wall. “Crystal?”

Callisto’s inhabitants had the ability to create crystals and build with them. Scientists on Earth could make crystals, but nothing on this scale or thickness.

He paced around the room, checking every nook and cranny for a button or a lever that would open a door. They’d placed him in here, which meant there was a way inside. So there had to be a way out.

“Hello?” Jaxx’s voice echoed off the walls. “Anyone here?”

“Help me,” came a whisper.

Jaxx froze.

A cough pierced the air. “He-lp m-me.”

It was the man in the other bed.

His lips moved. “He-hello?”

Jaxx cautiously made his way to him. He placed his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “I’m here. You’re safe.”

The guy’s face was streaked with blood, though the man looked mighty familiar. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

The man’s eyes opened. “Jaxx?”

“Shit, no. Fox?” Jaxx backed away from the injured captain and his bloodied cot. “How did you get here?”

“Jaxx,” Fox growled. He grasped Jaxx’s wrist with a strong hand, squeezing it like a vice grip.

Jaxx tried to pull away, yanking as hard as he could. The guy didn’t bat an eye.

On the other side of Fox’s bed, a striated-ebb nebula titanium exo-suit lay crumpled on the floor.

In the launch bay before Jaxx escaped Starship Atlantis, Jaxx saw a soldier in an exo-suit. The guy walked as if he was injured. Now it made sense. Fox, who was injured from a gunshot wound in his stomach, occupied that exo-suit.

And here he was, now with Jaxx, and Fox had him dead to rights.

30

Charlotte, North Carolina ~ Earth

Camila reached for them. Or, in truth, reached for her daughter. Her eyes escaped Drew’s, and for good reason, her daughter was the love of her life, and Drew may have just led Camila to the end of her own.

Blood soaked through the lower back of Camila’s shirt, a trail of red streaked behind her, and caked the floor as she pulled herself forward. No doubt she’d been shot and probably in the stomach, but how many times?

Why would that matter?

Drew’s mom abruptly appeared. She stood over Camila. “Get up, Drew. Pull her to safety.”

His mom disappeared when more sounds of shattering glass and machine guns penetrated every cell of Drew’s body. He pulled Mya closer, the thud of bullets sinking and punching through car doors, car hoods, and trunks, and embedding in walls and column beams.

The bullets kept coming. No one cared that they were innocent bystanders, yet the focus of fire power was on them. Or so it seemed.

Get Camila! Snap out of it, Drew. Push forward!

He reached for her, the blare of guns, cannons, and a child’s scream nearly deafening him.

A child’s scream? He looked down, everything was in slow motion. Mya was in his lap, arms out, tears falling down her cheeks. She screamed for her mama.

A bullet whizzed by, sucking into the wall. Camila gasped for breath.

Drew butted up against the steel column, then placed Mya on the floor. “Stay here, I’m getting your mom. Stay. Here.”

There was no way Mya heard anything over this commotion, but he had to get her mom. He had to.

He crawled forward. Bullets ricocheted off the concrete floor. He glanced between the car and the steel column to the outside. Foreign soldiers rushed around, thin-looking jeeps with a gunner on top were blasting everything in view. In front of him was shattered glass and it was everywhere. US Marines were inside his dealership—no, his friend’s dealership. They returned fire, using anything and everything they could for cover.

Something brushed Drew’s finger. A bullet. His stomach fell and he looked at his hand, sure to see blood and a missing finger or two.

He exhaled. No blood and all five digits were intact. What had touched him? Out of the corner of his eye was Mya.

She had rushed to her mother’s side, more courageous than Drew could ever be. She didn’t care about guns. She cared about Camila, her mom—everything she loved.

Mya bent down, crying and shaking Camila, screaming something Camila couldn’t hear because she was gone, the glossiness in her eyes had turned to stone. “Momma, Momma.”

The gun fire shifted, and moved to another building.

The Marines had checked out, moving like dust in the wind. They were here for a moment and when the winds picked up, it carried them away far enough for Drew to hear a young girl’s sorrow punch him in his gut.

He had brought this young girl to see her mother’s last breath.

Drew stepped over a dead Marine, ignored the gnarly mess that had once been a face, and crossed to Mya.

War. Fighting. Killing. Why? Why any of it? To Drew, it was stupid. Over what? You ask children to be like adults and talk it out, share, and be kind, while adults act like children. No worse. Adults act like adults, killing what they want, who they want, and when they want.

He slid next to Mya who held her mother. “Come on, Mommy. Please. Mommy. Get up.”

Drew couldn’t explain. There were no words. At least Mya hadn’t gone looking for her brother. That would have finished them both. He hadn’t heard the baby cry since the roof had fallen in. Didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out what had happened to him. He picked Mya up and held her tightly. She kicked and punched, yelling for her mother, never taking her eyes off her as Drew rounded the hybrid car with the key in hand.

“Oh, no.” The tires were flat, the doors were littered with holes, and the engine probably had a dozen bullets lodged inside.

Mya kicked him again and again. “Let me go.”

Drew dropped the key and repositioned the eight-year in his arms and ran to the black box. He opened it and surveyed the showroom floor. The SUV and the Jeep were shot to hell. The pickup was on its side. The two-door sedan was a hot mess. Yet, the one in the corner, the one hidden from windows and parked back toward the deeper offices, was a four-door sedan and not shot to shit.

He foraged through the keys. A small hand slapped him hard, then squeezed and scratched his nose.

He wanted to tell Mya to stop, to go to her room, time-out, no snack before dinner. Instead, he raced across the showroom, blocking more little girl slaps, and pressed the unlock button on the key. He plopped her down in the passenger seat and strapped the seat belt around her. He avoided a quick kick to the face.

“Where's Mommy? Let me fix my mommy. Don’t...touch. Help, help.” Mya reached out for her, tears streaking her face, her lips quivering. “Mommy. Mommy.”

Drew slammed the door shut and ran around to the other side. He pulled himself onto the driver’s seat. “I’m so sorry, Mya. Your mom will be back with us soon.” He started the car. “She just wants me to take you to your daddy, right now.” He lied and it didn’t work. Mya wouldn’t calm.

A cannon fired and the building shook. More of the ceiling collapsed in front of them, white drywall and plaster tumbled onto the car’s hood, wood joists plummeted to the ground in front of them, bouncing off the floor. His escape was now blocked.

He looked over his shoulder. More glass doors. Perfect.

He put the car in reverse and placed his foot on the pedal. The car shuddered as it hit a desk. He stepped his foot harder on the gas and drove the car through the glass doors. They shattered into a thousand pieces, the grind of concrete against the bottom of the car caused the vehicle to bob up and down the outside steps, until it leveled onto the street.

Drew shoved it into drive and pushed on the gas, immediately pressing both feet on the brake. The car skidded to a halt. A tank was twenty yards in front of him. He went to back up, but a throng of foreign soldiers ran at him from that direction. He glanced at Mya. Her head was in her knees. She sobbed uncontrollably.

He yanked the wheel, and floored it.

31

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ East Rise, Callisto

Bogle read the vid screen in front of her. “Two minutes until impact. We’re entering East Rise, another city on Callisto.”

Rivkah shot her a look. Being given a play-by-play from an anxiety ridden co-pilot wasn’t her cup of tea. She felt like opening the bottom hatch and dropping Bogle through the vast cloud they were only two minutes from. And, “impact?” How do you impact a cloud? How did Bogle ever become an XO in the first place? The admiral like her looks? It happened before. The girl didn’t seem to have the stomach for adrenaline or chaos.

An electric bolt zoomed past them and slammed into the ground. It churned more dust into the air. Another and another whizzed by, blowing up more dirt, rock, and ice.

Rivkah pulled on the control stick. She wanted to get a bird’s eye view of what these thousands upon thousands of bolts slinging past them and erupting on the ground were for. Was something trying to get through, yet this shielding technique kept it at bay?

“One minute until impact,” said Bogle.

Rivkah wanted to rap her on the head. Instead, she remained silent, narrowing her eyes to what might be coming after the dust. The craft made a sharp incline and headed straight over the debris cloud.

Rivkah leaned forward. She wanted to grab the scales of the half human, half reptile Kelhoons below and fling them across the smoking hills in front of them.

The Kelhoon swarmed over the hillside. They destroyed everything in their path. As far as the eye could see, cities were engulfed in black, thick plumes. The Kelhoons must have hit these people quick and hard, an assault that the inhabitants of East Rise were utterly unprepared to fend off.

Thick, smoldering ashes billowed upward into the graying sky, then fell to the ground like snow. A blood bath. Dead Atlanteans were sprinkled across the land in golden armor. Three pronged tridents lay by their sides. Others ran toward the north, blasting Kelhoon pursuers with laser-like beams that expelled from each trident prong.

Hundreds of children were being led to one of the many pyramids in East Rise. Energy bracelet restraints tied the children together with an energy chain. A young girl, maybe ten or so, walked in the back. A Kelhoon whipped her. A lash struck the girl in the face, and she fell to the ground. Motionless.

Rivkah unstrapped from her chair and stood. She wanted to break every bone in that asshole’s body. A man harming a girl? The Kelhoon might as well be Rivkah’s father and she the girl in the back of the pack, getting whipped like a sick puppy, then lights out.

Rivkah grasped the control stick, then pressed several buttons on the holographic display console. She had to take over this ship, had to turn on weapons and blast that evil Kelhoon where he stood. Hell, maybe they could rescue the children. She kicked the console. “How do you override this thing?”

Bogle held her hands over her mouth, shaking her head. “Why is Grenik Star allowing this? Why is Liberty letting this happen? They aren’t helping the fight.”

“Because they are pricks of the highest sort, now—”

A squad of angry Kelhoon Starfighter LL-Class 4’s appeared over the lip of the hills. Rivkah held her breath. Yes, this Liberty character had led these two nitwits to their slaughter. Rivkah had fallen for it.

“We call those starfighters, Leaping Lizards,” said Bogle, her words barely audible.

“Yes, I know what they’re called. Now, help me re-wire this ship so we can have a nano-second of a chance to survive.”

Dozens of wide, almond-shaped starfighters zipped by them, quickly reaching the lip of the hills and meeting the Kelhoon starfighter’s head on. Electric bolts expelled from the almond-shaped crafts and hammered the Leaping Lizards. Explosions, falling debris, and fires lit the hilltops, ending the Kelhoon squadron before they had a chance to engage.

“That won’t happen a second time,” said Rivkah. “Kelhoons learn from their mistakes.”

The almond-shaped starfighters cut left, banking wide, strafing the Kelhoon chasing the Atlantean warriors. Kelhoon infantry dove to the ground. Many were ripped to shreds by tracer fire.

Rivkah zoomed in on the handcuffed children. The girl who had been whipped was being dragged along. For a moment, Rivkah’s heart went out to her. No child should be treated in such a way. If she could jump out, take out the Kelhoon soldier, and release those children, she would without a thought.

“Is there a communication link on this thing?” said Rivkah. “We need to let them know about the children.”

Bogle unstrapped herself and scoured the craft for anything that might be a comm unit. She pressed a button. “Executive Officer Katherine Bogle here. Does anyone read me? Clear.”

No response.

“Anyone?”

Again, silence.

She pressed more buttons, repeating her questions.

Nothing.

Rivkah rummaged around the cockpit for anything that might be a comm device, opening a long, oval chest in the rear of the craft. Tridents, armor, helmets, boots, and odd lightning-shaped guns were organized in the chest, asking to be taken.

The craft shuddered, then shifted to the right. It flew over a pyramid’s golden apex. A flash of white light engulfed the transport and a static sound erupted throughout the cockpit.

Rivkah looked at her feet and plugged her ears. Bogle did the same.

The white light faded and the static disappeared. Rivkah found herself on the floor. She scanned the vid screen and her chin dropped. They were in the forest they’d taken off from and Liberty stood next to a tree. She held a slack expression. Her mouth curled downward. Placing her hands together at her chest, she dipped her head and motioned for them to exit the craft.

32

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Rivkah stepped down the ramp, her forehead low. “Was that a figment of our imagination, or is that what’s really happening at this very moment?”

“The pyramid’s golden apex teleported you back here. That was not your imagination. The Kelhoons are here in full force. That’s why we need you.”

Rivkah remembered the little girl and her heart skipped a beat. “Get me over there.”

“I wish I could, but we have to wait.”

“Wait for what?” asked Bogle as she walked down the ramp behind Rivkah.

“Wait for the other two. Captain Fox and Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx. They’re here now.”

Rivkah stood more erect. “Where?”

“You’ll see them soon.”

33

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Fox had his fingers around Jaxx’s neck, squeezing, lifting Jaxx off the ground and above his head. Jaxx imagined Fox as Darth Vader.

The thought quickly changed when he couldn’t take a breath. He felt the blood drain from his face and his eyes bulged in their sockets. He brought his hands up, scratching and tearing at Fox’s steely grip, trying to break it lose from his neck. It didn’t work. He kneed Fox in the chest with all his might. Fox moved an inch, but squeezed tighter.

“Where the hell are we, Jaxx?”

Jaxx wanted to shake his head, but in his current predicament, he was bound by the law of physics and the law of someone choking him. All he could do was shrug.

“You don’t know?” He threw Jaxx across the room.

Jaxx landed with a thud, his back hitting hard on the floor. He rolled and took in much needed air, then coughed.

“Where have you brought me, Jaxx?” Fox kicked Jaxx in the ribs, not waiting for an answer.

Jaxx let out an “Oomph!” and curled into a ball, covering his head. Another kick landed on Jaxx’s stomach and Jaxx gasped for air. The wind knocked out of him, he scrunched into more of a ball.

Fox tittered, widening his stance, then brought back his leg for a more intense blow.

For the umpteenth time, Jaxx’s emotions gathered in his belly and welled. The kick came swiftly and he caught it, shaking with frustration and anger. Enough was enough. He transferred all of the energy he had and threw it outward. Fox flung head over heels onto the floor. The guy’s face took the brunt of the fall.

Jaxx stood, hands in fists by his side.

Fox wiped his lip and spat out a tooth, then stood slowly. “You made me bleed Jaxx. I like to bleed.”

Jaxx lowered his gaze. “I’m not a weakling like you think. If you come any closer, you’ll understand the power I yield.”

“You act like a pussy, Jaxx. I’m not scared of pussies.” He took a step forward, then lunged. He reared his arm back and swung for a nice fist to Jaxx’s face.

Jaxx crouched and brought his hands up, grasping Fox’s punching arm and spun Fox off his feet, throwing him across the room again. Jaxx ran toward Fox and took a flying leap. His knee landed on Fox’s chest. Curling his fingers, he threw a fist at Fox’s nose, hearing the snap of a broken bone penetrate the air. Fox’s nose shifted to the side, clearly broken in a couple of places. Blood covered Fox’s mouth and cheeks.

Jaxx lifted his hands in fighting position and heaved like a race horse after the Kentucky Derby. “Don’t try anything else, Fox.”

A door slid open. The smell of roses filled the room. Startled, Jaxx spun on his heels, readying himself for whatever else was to come. A woman stood at the door.

Jaxx dropped to one knee, clutching his hand to his heart. Rivkah was near. He used his mind to find her and caught a glimpse of her at the base of a ship. A ship he’d never seen before.

The woman at the dome’s opening was his height, toned, and wore a white dress with a metallic rose pinned at the shoulder. Trees, purplish-pink in color, were behind her.

He narrowed his eyes. “Where is she?”

The woman motioned with her arm to somewhere off in the distance. Somewhere he couldn’t see. “She’s here.”

“Take me to her.”

“As you wish.” She gestured to Fox. “But first, you must find a truce between you and your brother.”

Jaxx tilted his head, his jaw slack. “My brother?”

“You are blood.”

Fox wiped the blood off his face. “No. We’re not. I met this son of a bitch in the Secret Space Program.”

“You had two different parents who weren’t your blood parents. You aren’t who you think you are, Jaxx. You and Fox aren’t human.”

34

Charlotte, North Carolina ~ Earth

Drew about pissed his pants. The tank’s turret turned, the cannon lowered, aiming directly at Drew and Mya and the car they were stopped in. He glanced in his rear-view mirror. For a second time in this car, foreign troops were behind them, running in their direction, getting closer. Buildings were on their right and left. No escape.

An enemy troop took aim.

“Duck.” He threw an arm over Mya, pulling them both below the dash.

A shot rang out. Cannon fire. Machine guns cracked the air. Another cannon. His car shook. He looked at his hands. He was still alive. He looked at Mya. She was still alive too. Leaning her head against the door’s armrest, she blankly stared at the sky through the windshield.

Half-expecting his car would be riddled with bullets or a hole through it from cannon fire, it hadn’t been touched. He peeked above the steering wheel. The tanks turret had shifted and shot another round over their car. He looked behind him. The man who had aimed at them was on his side, the rifle resting against his body. Blood oozed from his head. Foreign troops raced to take cover.

He put the car in reverse and put his foot on the gas. The tires spun, then took hold, and he gripped the wheel, veins bulging on his hands, his knuckles pale white. He steered the fastest way out of here—the only way out of his predicament—straight through the battle.

A thud and his car bounced up and down, driving over the dead soldier that tried to make Drew “dead” only moments before.

His heart raced, something he was getting all too used to without the weed soaking through his body. He hadn’t had a bong hit in days.

He turned the wheel and pressed the brakes. The car spun. Drew shifted the car into drive. Mya closed her eyes and a tear streaked down her face. Drew wanted to console her, tell her everything was going to be alright but he’d be lying.

He pressed the pedal to the floor as bullets sparked against the street and sidewalks. Enemy soldiers fell like dominoes. He sped forward and turned down a street, then floored the brakes.

He went flying forward, the car honking from his chest’s impact against the wheel. “Whoa! Back up, back up, back up.”

He reversed. Foreign jeeps with gunners came his way. He checked Mya. The seatbelt kept her strapped in. Safe.

He turned the wheel and sped down a different street, then zig zagged around abandoned cars, shot to shit, some burning, some already half rubble. A dead, burnt up corpse was in one.

He bit his lip. He and Mya would be like that person if they didn’t get out of here fast.

He hung a right on West 4th Street, never in his life thinking he’d be driving this fast down any inner city.

Jikoooosh!

Jikoooosh!

The ground vibrated. Two jets flew low, way too low. A black one in the lead, a gray, United States military plane on its tail. Then the world shook. The black jet became a fire ball, splitting in two, a wing splintering off, a poof of smoke and debris billowing toward the sky behind several buildings.

The other half careened toward Drew.

“No, no. You gotta be kidding me.”

He put his arm in front of Mya. Half the jet fell faster toward them. He took a right on Gesco Street. The earth trembled from the jet’s impact, a cloud of fire sucked in the air behind them, and a plume of smoke blew outward an instant later.

He hung a left on State Street, skidding out, nearly hitting an abandoned car. A right on Tuckasagee Road. He curled around the long bend. An inner smile overtook Drew. I-85 was in view. Once on the interstate, he’d be heading out of town and to Michael Anderle at Lookout Mountain, Tennessee.

For a minute, everything was calm, except him. He looked down at Mya. She was asleep, probably from the trauma. She rested her cheek against his arm. He placed his knee at the bottom of the wheel, keeping the car straight.

He flicked on the radio.

To his surprise, someone was talking.

“...they aren’t sending help, people. To any of those listening to me, then listen to my words very clearly. They aren’t sending help. Really, you think they are? Then, tell me, where’s our allies? Shouldn’t they have been here by now? Didn’t they see the Chinese coming? We’re losing a piece of our country every single day and the rest of the world sits idly by, laughing their asses off. Our interim President, Jefferson Kennedy, says he’s still in communication with our allies. He suggests they’re sending their forces, but I’m saying if they aren’t here already, they ain’t coming.” It was Bob Larson, the neo-con, racist who claimed he wasn’t a neo-con or a racist. He was still on the air?

Drew merged onto I-85. Not a driver was in sight. Hopefully it would stay that way until he arrived to Tennessee. He didn’t want lines of cars with freaked out people slowing him down.

“The Chinese and the North Koreans are making mincemeat of our military. Half of our guys are on bases overseas, no doubt trying to get to us right now. That’s what I was saying for years. The United States isn’t here to police the world. We were supposed to stay out of foreign entanglements and affairs, just as George Washington practically yelled at our nation to do. And, what are we up to? Crapping all over his intentions, over his genius, and over his years of service to bring us freedom...”

Drew clicked off the radio. He checked his gas.

“Half-full?”

That wasn’t going to get him to Tennessee.

35

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Jaxx stared open mouthed at the woman before him. She was lying. She had to be but he couldn’t get a read on her if she was. He shook his head. “Fox is not my brother. And, for crap-sakes, I’m human.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “This guy has been trying to kill me for I don’t know how long.”

Fox stepped forward and brought his fist up, ready to pound Jaxx to the ground.

“Halt.” The woman walked into the dome. “There will be no more fighting.”

“Like you can stop—” Fox fell and jerked back and forth as if an electrical current ran through him like a stun charge from an PR-8. It faded as quickly as it came. He rubbed his head, grunting, sitting on his butt, most likely too pissed to say anything.

The woman addressed Jaxx as if Fox wasn’t in the room. “Your brother is bull-headed with a life mission to spill as much blood as he can. It’s not his fault. He was a good man, just like you, Jaxx. This nastiness has all been trained into him. All his Atlantean leanings have been weeded out. Unlike you. You’ve known for some time that you’re different…”

“I’m not Atlantean.” Jaxx said, not really knowing the difference between an Atlantean and a Human. The Atlanteans had been gone from Earth for so long; perhaps they’d had time to evolve. For all he knew, their DNA had taken a left, instead of a right.

Fox tried to stand.

The woman thrust her hand out, using a strange energy to root him to the ground.

“God dammit. Let me up.”

She shook her head. “My name is Liberty. I am the Master of Atlantis Alta, or in your terms, Callisto.” She put her hands in prayer position. “And, to answer your internal question, Jaxx, you and Fox are indeed Atlantean. The difference between Human and Atlantean is subtle, and with your advance translation skills, I’m surprised you missed that in the Egyptian Stele’s and hieroglyphs. The human race has been genetically manipulated by another species and a similar manipulation continues to this day with the chemicals in your foods and liquids, but we won’t get to that now. The Atlantean race, to which you were both born, has not been manipulated. We’re still pure. You both, on the other hand, are more powerful than the Atlanteans, for a great power has been bestowed upon you. You carry human chromosome two and human chromosome seven.”

This just wasn’t making sense. Jaxx and Fox were Atlantean brothers, yet partly human as well? Then, who were his real parents? “A great power has been bestowed upon Fox and me?” asked Jaxx.

“You have much to learn, much to decipher. In time, it will come. Now, for you two,” she pointed an index finger to Jaxx and her other index finger to Fox. “You have a connection you haven’t quite understood and when you felt it in the past, you dismissed it as something else entirely or ignored it altogether.”

Fox gave a hearty laugh. “You’re full of shit, woman.” He supported his body with his hand on the ground and pushed himself up like a rickety old man, the electrical charge clearly still tingling through him. “How did we get here?”

“Mez Beds, please,” she said.

Two beds materialized in the middle of the room, crystalline in appearance with a glow pulsing from within. Ear muffs—or something similar—were at the head of each bed. “You can’t leave this dome until you find your true connection. It’ll bond you, even if you can’t overcome your kismet issues with each other. It’s your destiny. It’s our destiny. You’ll right a great wrong that’s facing our people.” She snapped her fingers, gesturing for them to lay on the beds.

Jaxx and Fox didn’t move and Liberty dipped her head. “It’s your choice. Until then, it’s by decree that you may not leave this dome until you have understood your bond.”

She left the dome and the door shut behind her, though no lines showed where a door should have been. No frame, no door knob, nothing.

Fox stood in a stretch. He cracked his knuckles. “This ought to be fun.” He rushed Jaxx.

36

Somewhere in North Carolina ~ Earth

He’d been on the road for three hours. All he’d seen on the way were a few cars and mostly people walking on the side of the freeway, their thumbs out. Drew would have pulled over many times, but each time, the memory of the men who stole his car came to mind. In a time like this, he could only trust himself.

Mya hadn’t woken yet. Perhaps the trauma had overrun her nervous system and her body kept her safe by conking her to sleep for as long as it could before the trauma reared its ugly head the moment she woke.

His chest tightened and his stomach fell when the red gas light blinked on. Near empty. Now he was feeling trauma. Not like back when the foreign military opened fire on his location, but still, a car with no gas equaled he’d be up shit creek.

He was passing Balsam, North Carolina on Route 74. Population 49.

He pulled onto the exit. The gas station was run down and his car jostled up and down as he pulled onto the broken driveway.

Mya continued to sleep.

He pulled up to one of the two pumps, a Country Mountain Store sign above the roof of the store only yards away told him exactly where he was—butt freakin’ nowhere. The store looked empty. Nothing in life from this point forward would be easy, not that it had ever been. But with the US economy in the toilet, people running to safety, and everyone—just like him—suspicious of everyone, life would be a shit-show of people stealing and pillaging and looking out for number one.

He opened his car door. “A mountain store?” he said quietly to himself. The smell of fresh air and pine seeped into his nostrils. The landscape was beyond gorgeous. Green, healthy trees dotted the mountains surrounding Balsam.

He took out his wallet, eyeing a credit card. He sighed. “I hope this works.” He slid it into the gas pump’s card reader. No response. The lack of digital numbers on the pump’s display should have told him exactly that—not operational.

A beat up truck was parked on the grass by the side of the store. Rust started to make its home on its roof. He hurried over, checking left and right, hoping nobody watched him. He opened the driver door and popped open the gas cap cover. He shut the door and walked over and unscrewed the gas cap, then took a whiff. There was gas in there that he’d have to siphon. He went to the store’s front door and jiggled the handle. Locked.

He glanced back at his car. Mya was stretching, yawning, and then rubbed her eyes.

She opened the door. “Mamma? Where’s Mamma?”

Oh, boy. Here we go. He strode next to her. Bending down, Drew rubbed her shoulder. He didn’t know if that’s what you’re supposed to do with kids, but he’d give it a go. “Mya? Your mom won’t be able to see you for a while. I’m going to be taking care of you until your dad arrives.”

Did he just say that? Taking care of her? He couldn’t even take care of his bong. And when was he going to explain that her mom would never see her again?

Kids were an anomaly to him, perhaps because he was an anomaly as a child. Growing up, he didn’t know how to talk to children his own age and especially didn’t like playing Legos or stacking blocks with them, since other kids were so elementary. Plus, being born with photographic memory had its down sides with runny nosed, piss-ant kids who made fun of him for knowing algebra and equations better than college professors by age ten.

“Where’s Daddy?” Mya stepped out of the car. A cold breeze brushed across them and she huddled against Drew’s leg.

Drew put his hands out and leaned back like Mya was a leach, trying to suck the blood out of his leg. A soft buzz sounded behind him and before he could look to see what it was, his mom materialized in the front seat, her hands around the wheel, staring at Drew like he had half a brain.

“Get a hold of yourself, Drew. She’s a child. Comfort her, and for God’s sakes, stop lying to her.”

Drew lurched back a tad.

Laura gave Drew an understanding nod, one that said you know what to do and that she didn’t raise an idiot. Then his mom faded away.

Drew scratched the back of his head and looked down at Mya.

The breeze blew again and Mya squeezed tighter around his leg.

He placed a hand on her back. “Your dad is working. He’ll join us when he’s done. Might be a few days, a week, and hopefully not more than a month.”

She glanced at him. “He’s here?”

Drew looked around. “I don’t think so.” He eyed the store. He’d have to break in, find a tube and shove it into the truck’s gas line and siphon the gas out. The store better have a gas can.

“What’s that?” Mya unwrapped an arm from Drew’s leg and pointed behind him.

A small drone hovered above and in front of the trees that lined the property. It was the buzzing sound he’d thought he’d been hearing. It dipped to the side.

It dipped again.

Drew furrowed his brow. “Get behind me, Mya.”

Drew walked slowly, taking short steps so Mya could use him as a shield, just in case this small drone was Chinese and had a gun.

“It’s really neat,” said Mya, pulling out from behind him and running toward the drone.

Drew reached his hand out, doing his best to grab her. “No, Mya.” He chased after her, imagining automatic rounds blasting out of the drone’s nose, Mya getting hit, taking the blunt force into her chest, vibrating as each bullet pounded her like he’d seen in movies.

None of that happened.

Mya made her way beneath the drone and attempted to grab it out of the air. She giggled like any six-year old who’d forgotten about her mommy, daddy, and anything else in the world except for the joy of the moment.

“Don’t, Mya.”

The drone lifted in the air, and turned around. It dipped another time.

Where the tree line met the pavement, the terrain had a slight decline—almost a hill, but not quite. The drone avoided a tree, moving into the woods, and down that decline.

Drew picked up Mya, her legs wrapping around his waist, her hands grasping his coat. She jabbed a finger at the drone, her lips downturned. “Did I scare it?”

“No. I think it wants us to follow it.” He patted her heart. “What do you think?”

She gave a slow nod, her eyes as innocent as a baby. “I think so.”

Some teenage techy was probably flying that thing, seeing what was going on in his town.

Drew stepped over a downed branch, then around a stump, heading a few yards into the wooded area. The drone bucked right, changing its direction.

Drew continued to follow, Mya in his arms.

The wind picked up and they rounded another tree. Looking up, gray clouds came in fast. Rain was on its way.

The drone hovered ten yards. Then moved up and down several times, dipping left and right, left and right, over and over again until Drew could see why.

More than a dozen 5-gallon gas cans sat around the base of a tree.

Drew stopped and set Mya on her feet. “Stay here.” He slowly took a step forward, hearing the leaves and branches under his shoes. He surveyed the area, wondering where the trap could be. He picked up a heavy rock, then threw it near the can, half expecting a net to rise from under the leaves and carry the gas cans, and anyone else who may have gotten caught.

He looked back at Mya. She was gone.

His heart about hit his knees. He heard the leaves rustle and spun on his heels. Mya ran to the gas cans.

He let out an exasperated breath. “Don’t touch that.” He walked to the cans and took off one of the caps. A stream of fumes punctured the air. “It’s fuel.”

The drone lowered, then dipped a few more times. A stream of light came from its belly, then a man stood in front of them. He wore a tie, blue suit, and had his hands on his hips. He almost looked like his uncle Jaxx, but a bit older, wiser, his eyes confident.

“Hello, Drew.” The man smiled. “I’m President Jefferson Kennedy. We need your help. Continue your course.”

The man disappeared and the drone lifted upward and over the canopy of trees. It sped off.

Drew put his hands over his mouth. “Did you see a guy standing there by chance?”

“Yeah.”

So he wasn’t hallucinating again.

He grasped the handles on two cans and picked them up. “You think you can lift one?” he asked.

Mya tried, then shook her head.

“Alright. Stay with me. No running off. Uncle Drew has another place to the east to show you.”

37

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

A day after her crazy flight to East Rise, the invasion-laden city just east of Flood of Dawn, Rivkah was bunked up with the maximally-annoying Katherine Bogle. They were in a clear dome with nothing but beds and crystal walls.

What was worse, she couldn’t get her mind off of the girl and those kids tortured by those monsters, the Kelhoon. She knew about the Kelhoons ambition to rule the galaxy, and while in the SSP she experienced it first hand. Yet she didn’t see the behind the scenes version and what the Kelhoons did to the survivors. She never wanted to see it again. In fact, she wanted that entire Kelhoon race exterminated. She’d love to do her part now.

“You’ll be able to do your part very soon, Rivkah. But, it will come at a price,” said Bogle.

Rivkah sat. “What did you just say?”

Bogle looked off in the distance, staring at something Rivkah couldn’t see. “I am the web that keeps you and the two together. I won’t steer you wrong. Only you can steer you wrong.”

Rivkah crossed her arms. “What in the shitfire are you saying?”

Bogle blinked her eyes several times. “Huh?”

“You won’t steer me wrong? Who thinks I’ll let you steer me anywhere? If it were up to me, I’d be off this planet and finding my way back to Oklahoma where I could have a little peace and quiet.” She looked down. “I should never have left.”

Bogle wrinkled her brow. “What are you talking about?”

“You just said you’re the web that keeps me and two others together.”

Bogle snorted. “You were dreaming.”

Rivkah waved her hand in the air. “I wasn’t, but you probably were. Forget anything I said and I’ll gladly forget anything you were saying.”

Bogle rolled to her side, her back to Rivkah. “You don’t like me, do you.”

Rivkah kept her mouth shut.

“Well, it’s okay. I’ll grow on you.”

“I hope you grow off of me. Let’s just stay quiet from now on.”

Bogle leaned back, staring at Rivkah. She closed her eyes, then opened them wide, her eyes set to the distant wall. “You are to protect these people. You’ll take orders from me telepathically while you fight the good fight, while you keep the three hounds at bay.”

Rivkah jumped off her bed and stomped toward Bogle. She grabbed Bogle’s hair and pulled her head back.

Bogle kept her eyes positioned on the wall. “It’s against Universal Law to invade another’s space without permission.” Rivkah’s hand went numb and without her control, she loosened her grip from Bogle’s hair and dropped her hand to her side.

“Ow,” Bogle rubbed her head where Rivkah had pulled. “What’d you do that for?”

Rivkah looked around. Something was up and she wasn’t liking it. She went to the crystal wall, touched it, searched for a door somewhere—anywhere. She had to get out of here. Another escape, another run from the darkness. She walked around the room, doing her best to locate a button or a lever.

The door opened across from her. A man walked in.

“Grenik Star?” Bogle stood from her bed then hurried to him, like a wife to a long-lost husband. She gave him a tight hug.

Grenik laughed. “Well, aren’t you happy to see me.” He motioned for Rivkah. “Captain Rivkah Ravenwood, we have someone for you to see, and Executive Officer Katherine Bogle, please come with me as well. We’re going to place you into the Cultivation Room to get you ready for combat.” He said it matter of factually, as if that’s exactly what they would do without complaint.

Bogle leaned back. “The Cultivation Room?”

“It won’t harm you. It’ll enhance you,” replied Grenik.

Bogle threw her hands out the side. “Not interested.”

Grenik dipped his head and bowed. “I understand.”

Rivkah, on the other hand, would be happy to get out of this trap. “Take me to your leader.”

Grenik cocked his head to the side. “Leader?” His confusion turned to a smile. “Uh, our Master. You’ll see her, but we’re taking you to your friends.”

Rivkah almost laughed. “I don’t have friends.”

“I see. Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx and Captain Richard Fox are not your friends?”

Rivkah’s eyes went wide. “Are they here?”

“Yes, yes. Jaxx, on the other hand, is barely here. He’s covered in blood, doing his best to keep Fox at bay, at which he’s doing a mighty job, by the way.”

Rivkah’s hands went into fists. “What did you do to him?”

“It’s what Fox is doing to him. Please follow me.”

38

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Jaxx was in the air, pressed against the wall, his jaw clenched. He was in pain, but not physical, more mental. It was like his mind was being sucked into a black hole and he did everything in his power to keep his mind intact.

Fox laughed. “I like this power thing...brother.” Fox, cracked up at his own joke. “I’m draining you. You feel that?”

Jaxx did. He was tired. He was also getting pissed, fantasizing about throwing Fox across the room, then beating the shit out of him. “Put me down, Fox.” He brought both hands to his head as a new sensation kicked in. Dizziness. He swallowed, keeping the contents of his stomach at bay.

“God, this is going to be easy.” Fox dropped Jaxx and walked backwards a few steps like a bull ready to strike. He was determined with his forehead low and his eyes forward. He turned and brought his fist back in a punch and threw it in Jaxx’s direction. Even though he was several yards away, Jaxx’s head pushed to the side, as if Fox landed a blow to Jaxx’s temple; Fox’s knuckle to Jaxx’s skull.

Fox jumped up and down like a kid in an ice cream parlor. “What the hell? This is awesome.” He focused on Jaxx and threw his arms outward. Jaxx stiffened. An energy grip grabbed him like he was stuck in a straight jacket.

Fox put his index finger up. “Stay there, Jaxx. Let me try something.”

Jaxx fought Fox’s energetic grip, throwing his own energy around to kick this energy off of him. Nothing worked. He dropped his head, sweat dripping off of his nose to his chest, his arms as weak as a baby. He closed his eyes, thinking this was it. Fox was probably going to kill him or worse yet, torture him until he flat-lined. He let go of any attempt to push Fox’s energy off of him, and relaxed every muscle, including his mind.

Immediately, Jaxx fell, slumping to the floor.

“Wait. Stand back up,” yelled Fox.

Jaxx didn’t move, didn’t lift off the ground, didn’t flinch.

Fox took heavy steps toward Jaxx. “I’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”

Jaxx, on the other hand, was regaining his energy. The Chi ran through him like water into a tree’s roots. He stood and took a few steps and thrust his palm on Fox’s chest.

Fox went to bat it away. He yelped and jerked, lifted off of his feet, and was thrown into the air. He dropped to the floor, the back of his head conking on the grass.

Fox lifted his head, then dropped it back down, too weak, too concussed to get up.

“Don’t do that again, Fox,” growled Jaxx. He strolled to Fox and grabbed his arm, dragging him toward one of the Mez Beds. He lifted him up with a grunt and dropped him on the bed. He put the strange ear muffs on his newfound brother.

39

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Fox shook violently on the Mez bed, then relaxed, his eyes shutting, instantly going into REM mode. He was too weak to move. He’d hit his head hard and everything was a blur, accompanied with a streaking pain around his skull. He thought he must have cracked his lower occiput, where the back of his head met his neck, and blood most likely oozed into a puddle around his head, soon to be dripping on the floor. Yet, no warmth or wetness soaked his upper neck. Meh, who cared. He wanted to shrug it off, he’d been through worse. The problem was; his weakness had him in a strange type of paralysis; no shrugging, no kicking Jaxx’s ass, only breathing.

Jaxx placed the ear-muffs over Fox’s head and around his ears. That bastard. What the hell was Jaxx doing? Before Fox could call Jaxx as many names as letters in the alphabet, a shot of lightning coursed through him, his hands immediately succumbing to numbness, his arms tingling, his chest vibrating.

Fox shook. His shoulders beat against the Mez Bed like a jack hammer. Then it stopped. His body calmed. His eyes shot wide and his blurriness faded.

Then blackness over took. And his consciousness moved forward, traveling at an incredible velocity, heading toward an electric-blue vortex, spiraling in front of him, coming closer, closer.

Quiet.

Chirping.

Birds.

The wind blew across pine trees creating a sound similar to a distant ocean.

He opened his eyes.

He stood outside a dropship, his team fanning out across a hillside on planet Taiyo, the cottony puffs and feathery needles born on dense clusters on woody, stout pegged trees blew in the wind, their large barrel shaped red cones stuck up above the branches.

The cones. If he just sniffed the cones for days and days, it would open up his glands, would open up his inner powers hidden in his DNA.

He shrugged away the nonsense penetrating his mind and gathered himself. If he remembered correctly, he was at the last of the Taiyonian invasion, back to snatch Jaxx away from these soulless enemies. Jaxx had betrayed him, had betrayed everyone, and snuck over to the other side. There would be no pity for Jaxx, only justice.

How could this be? This was a memory, one that was real, happening at this very moment. He was trapped in his body, his movements and thoughts the same as the day this really occurred—during the punch in and punch out operation to extract Jaxx. He couldn’t change the memory, he couldn’t rewrite this operation’s mistakes. Or his mistakes. He couldn’t save his compatriots when they needed him. He couldn’t kill the asshole who caused it all.

“The fucking traitor,” mumbled Fox, the same mumble he had at the same exact time and moment it first came—during this operation at the base of a hill full of green and gold ferns, black rock, and small patches of white shrubbery.

“What was that, Sarge?” asked Barnes, a Special Agent Space Marine, S.A.S.M., for short. They were the S.E.A.L.’s of space, under the same branch, under the same types of rigorous missions, though more dangerous, more deadly. The black void of space was a different monster.

“Nothing, S.A. Barnes, continue to fan out. The Taiyonians know we’re here. They wiped out our last effort to gather Jaxx, so let’s not get burned twice by the same flame.” He hated it when he used cliché statements, but they worked.

He looked over his S.A.S.M. team, all fifty yards from each other, some crouched behind boulders, others trees. They were surveying the area, using their combat ready full-face helmets equipped with a heads-up display to detect any approaching enemy, air or ground. They wore striated-ebb nebula titanium exo-suits, weapons magnetized to a thin metal plate on their backs.

An S.A.S.M. team consisted of seven. This one was no exception. That’s all they ever needed to carry out a successful mission, barring the last team that arrived yesterday. All dead, all massacred, just to retrieve this piece of shit named Jaxx.

Fox wasn’t going to make the same mistake as the last S.A.S.M. team.

He held his PR-8 in his hands, and an PSR-110, a long-barreled plasma sniper rifle, was magnetized to the back of his exo-suit. He scanned the area, his helmet bringing up an advanced scouting infrared Optical Rival Reader, ORR, able to sweep the area and detect...everything.

No Taiyonian was within 2.3 radius miles, the farthest the ORR capabilities could reach, though his helmet’s sound detection was picking up the air battle even farther away.

Good.

The Secret Space Program was creating havoc, interrupting the Taiyonian military capabilities on all levels.

His team climbed and crested the hill quickly, allowing themselves a space of no more than fifty yards from one another, a ghost tactic. If an S.A.S.M. team member was fired upon, they could easily locate the enemy and surround, ending the targets before they ever knew what hit them. Another cliché. He rolled his eyes.

S.A.S.M. exo-suits were fast, acting like the Yivix race Mechs of the inner galaxy. They could jump far, carry a hundred times their weight, and take on ample amounts of punishment from cannon fire from just about any extraterrestrial technology out there.

And all this shit, this S.A.S.M. extraction team, for one man; Jaxx.

Fox shook his head, disappointed.

Yet, there was this pull, this connection that he never understood—a tie between him and Jaxx that he couldn’t wait to cut in half.

The S.A.S.M. team stood atop the hill, studying the surrounding area. Nothing but miles and miles of foreign forest lay before them with a vast city tucked in front of a snow-capped mountain range. The city was their target, as that was the presumed whereabouts of Jaxx, where the last S.A.S.M. team located Defector Jaxx before things went wrong.

They at least left the Secret Space Program with a map of their trek and findings. It had been conveniently downloaded into each of Fox’s team’s suits.

God he wished he could just put a bullet in Jaxx’s head. Those weren’t his orders. Too bad.

“Alive and well,” were the orders from Admiral Gentry Race.

His stomach twirled at the thought of Jaxx getting hurt in any way; as if he was betraying a son or a friend or kin. His stomach never cared about death, mutilation, or straight up murder. His mind knew what was right—to end Jaxx. His body wasn’t complying, drawing jitters upon jitters against his mind’s motives. He’d have to get a good, long vacation when he returned to Star Warden.

His scanner beeped. Men—Taiyonians—were coming in hordes from the northeast.

“Team S.A.S.M. Seven, this is team leader Bravo, dismounted movement northeast, coordinates nine-nine-four. Estimated company, the ORR counts two hundred and eighteen units heading in our direction, over.”

“Positive. I have the read as well,” said S.A. Marley, second in command behind Fox. “Orders?”

Fox pulled his sniper rifle from the back of his exo-suit and slapped his plasma rifle in its place, magnetizing it. “I’m going to tag a couple.” Which meant he’d down them, killing them, doing what he did best. “S.A. Gainer, follow suit. Let’s make ORR count less units on recall.”

An S.A.S.M. team always carried two snipers, three heavy particle cannon soldiers, always using HPC-11-Rapid Fires small cannons that hung slack by a strap on each of the three designated member’s shoulders that when pulling the trigger could spark up an entire forest, creating an inferno if needed, and if a forest wasn’t near, they’d spark up whatever was in their way. Lastly, two soldiers in a S.A.S.M. team carried shock pirate guns, or in other words, grenade launchers that weren’t accurate, but always packed a punch.

“S.A. Gainer, get in position and I’ll do the same.” Fox took a spot on the ground and lowered his sniper rifle’s bipod to the ground, stabilizing his rifle, then eyed through the rifle’s scope, sliding his finger a feather width from the trigger. He switched the scope to optic infrared, a better way to track, seek, and find an enemy. The scope automatically positioned the gun to the closest target, closing in on 1.9 miles away. A long shot, but doable. That wasn’t his target, though. He needed to shoot at the back of the pack, slowly picking one target off then the other before the rest of the force knew what was happening. If he hit the front, they’d all see and duck for cover immediately. Always a rookie move.

The scope labeled each target by number count and corrected the line of fire in response to the planet’s current temperature and wind flow, making the pull of the trigger the only stress for a space marine sniper.

Fox’s scope indicated the last enemy soldier in range as ET Target 218.

“Turn tracer fire off,” Fox told Gainer.

“Tracer fire off, Sir. ET Target 217, locked.”

Fox kept his eye on his target. “218, locked.”

“Fire.” He pulled the trigger. On the optic scope’s infrared view, the Taiyonian warrior—his target—fell to the ground and lay motionless. “218 down.” He shifted his rifle. “ET Target 216, locked.”

“Fire,” said Gainer. “217 down. ET Target 215, locked,” replied Gainer.

“Fire.”

“Fire.”

The triggers pulled, another warrior down and then another.

Fox shifted his rifle an inch to the left. “Target 214, locked.”

“Target 213, locked.”

“Fire.”

“Fire.”

A pause.

“What the fuck?” came Gainer.

Fox crinkled his forehead. His eyebrow rose. The targets stopped, froze in place, then continued trudging forward. “We missed. Target 214, locked.”

“213, locked.”

“Fire.”

“Fire.”

“Missed again?” asked Gainer.

“What’s going on, Sarge?” inquired Marley.

Fox checked his scope. “Targets were hit. Twice. I don’t...” he hesitated. “Hold on.” He pulled up his scope’s camera, watching the replay of his last target. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except that the soldier didn’t fall, didn’t die. He slowed the camera down, viewing the replay once again. Just before his plasma bolt hit ET Target 214, the Taiyonian brought his arm up and a hazy shield popped up out of nowhere, absorbing the shot, then the shield disappeared in the blink of an eye.

These infantrymen were fast. And they had shield technology embedded in them.

“Fall back,” Fox said.

“Falling back, Sir,” responded Marley.

Fox stood and rushed down the hill, watching his helmet’s view screen indicators. His men were angling off, fifty yards from the next person, some fifty-one yards from the other, but no one was perfect. “Marley, take S.A. Jenson and S.A. Lewis to coordinates seven-seven-three and await my orders.”

“Aye, Sir.”

They detached from the team, heading northwest.

“The rest of you,” called Fox. “Follow my—”

A blast kicked up in front of him, lifting him off his feet and somersaulting him in the air. He landed on his back in a skid and took out large clumps of dirt and rocks. He spun and kicked his leg out at a thin tree and toppled it over.

He cringed as he hit a boulder, bringing him to a halt. He went to stand but a heavy foot slammed against his chest, smashing him back to the earth. His helmet’s heads up display went static for a moment, then faded to black only to blink on an instant later, all infrared off and normal view in its place.

A man wearing a jump suit with Secret Space Program—SSP—symbols where a right shirt pocket would be, loomed over him with a phaser in his hand, pointing it directly at Fox. He was surrounded by dozens of Asian-looking people wearing black pants and blue coats that flared into capes, lined in red. What looked to be technologically advanced bow and arrows were strapped to their backs.

“Don’t move, Fox.”

A tug pulled at Fox’s heart and he squinted, not knowing what that tug meant or why it came. It happened every so often when he was around Jaxx, and it happened again.

Jaxx bent down, compassion in his eyes. “You hate me. I don’t care. I’m not going to harm you and I’ve convinced my friends not to harm you either. Your men, on the other hand...they can’t know about the red cones. They can’t know what you and I know about them. Your friends have to be eliminated.”

40

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Fox moaned on the table, then twitched. His eyes were closed but moving rapidly as if watching a montage of action. Or, as Jaxx remembered from the hypnotherapy sessions with Dr. Donny, Fox was probably very much inside the action, experiencing it as if it was happening now.

A strange pull invited Jaxx closer to Fox like a moth to a flame, generating a pulsing heat at his heart. He took a step forward, his mind wandering, wanting to know what Fox was seeing. Yet, how did he know Fox was experiencing a past memory?

He took another step, his hand shaking as he lifted it over Fox’s chest. Like a positively charged magnet to a negatively charged one, Jaxx’s hand landed on Fox’s chest as if an extra-strength vacuum was on high, practically welding his hand in place.

He tugged back, but his hand didn’t budge. He leaned to the side, gritting his teeth, pulling with all his might, but it was as if his hand was attached to Fox’s chest with extra-strength super glue. It wouldn’t move.

Jaxx stiffened and unconsciously stood on his toes, his veins nearly popping out of his skin, a flash of electricity blasting through him. He opened his mouth, wanting to yell, to scream from the pain consuming him. But silence. His voice was gone, inactive.

A sharp breeze sung into his ears and he closed his eyes, only to open them a second later. He held a phaser, aiming it at Fox, his foot on Fox’s exo-suit, the Chi-like power racing through every cell of his body.

He was strong and in control. “Leave, now.”

Fox slowly shook his head, his external speakers on full. “My men are coming. Enjoy your last few breaths.”

Jjjakhoo! Jjjakhoo! Jjjakhoo!

HPC-11-Rapid Fires small cannons from Fox’s team, let loose a hail storm into the air and toward Jaxx’s tree-covered position. For a moment, silence, and then a flock of flying creatures screeched and fled from the treetops as the deathly quiet turned into whistling particle charges heading in fast.

Jaxx went to one knee, his other foot still on Fox’s chest and placed his hand toward the incoming cannon fire, switching on an energy shield from a gold cuff on his forearm.

An explosion rocked Jaxx’s friends into him from the eruption against their shields. A plume of energy sucked in like a wind. It attempted to grab them and expose them to the incoming S.A.S.M. team. Then another hit and another.

A few shields malfunctioned, turning off, leaving two Taiyonians defenseless. They brought their bow like weapons up, firing one photon tipped arrow after another in rapid succession. They bounced off the incoming S.A.S.M. team’s exo-suits like sticks against a cement wall.

The S.A.S.M. team was fast, well-trained, and spread out. The closest soldier unclasped his PR-8 from his back and zipped two quick shots at the two Taiyonians, landing with deadly accuracy. The two flopped to the ground, dead.

More incoming fire and the rest of Jaxx’s small company held strong, their shields energized around them, allowing them to release bow shot after bow shot, temporarily halting the advancing S.A.S.M.’s.

Jaxx looked down, seeing the moss-like grass at his feet, a few red pinecones on the ground, but no Fox. A moment ago he had his foot on Fox’s chest. How did he not feel the guy’s escape? A few trees jostled a short ways to the west.

“Mako-zan, Kiyo-zan,” he motioned toward two warriors in his group. “Fox is heading west. We need to stop him before he actually understands what to do with the red cones.”

They detached from the rest of the group, moving swiftly through the forest, jumping over broken limbs and downed trees.

Jaxx stopped, stretching his arms out wide. “Divert!” The Taiyonian war against the Kelhoon and the Secret Space Program had been intense and the surrounding nature had taken the brunt of it all, including what was right in front of them; a roaring forest fire.

“Call in Zan-Ops. We need to get this fire contained,” ordered Jaxx.

Kiyo-zan lifted his wrist cuff to his mouth. “Sozoko mozi no kazai. Fukuma rete kudazai.”

Mako-zan pointed his long arm to the east, his tall seven-three foot frame in a defensive crouch. “Fox-zan, azuma!”

Strangely, he felt Fox and knew they guy changed direction and headed east, racing away from the fire.

Jaxx tapped on his forearm cuff, bringing up a map of the terrain surrounding them, seeing a mass of infantry circling in on the S.A.S.M. team. “Kasai Company closing in. Do we have air support?”

Mako-zan nodded. “Watashizachi za dekiru kaziri ozu.”

Jaxx drew his mouth in a straight line and bit his lip. “That’s not much, but it will be enough. When is ETA?”

“Ichibu.”

“One minute? Too soon. That’s not enough time to retrieve Fox.” He paused, crossing his arms, watching the forest burn in front of him, anger slashing through him like a sword. He came here to help the Taiyonians against this illegal, uncalled-for invasion to steal natural resources. He wanted to choke Gentry’s neck. He wanted to kick the living shit out of Fox. He also wanted to save Fox because there was something about Fox, something that tied he and Fox together. There had always been. And Jaxx could change the guy and get him to help Jaxx and the Taiyonians. He knew it. There was a light not yet aflame in that guy’s heart. Jaxx could reach it. He could change the killer.

“Relay for air support to delay another minute.” Fox was heading right for the trap they set. It was funny, here Fox came to extract Jaxx. And here Jaxx came to insert Fox into his resistance.

Mako-zan spoke into his cuff, sending the message off to air support.

“Let’s go.” Jaxx ran forward and away from the fire, heading in Fox’s direction. Off in the distance, they saw a heavy exchange between the S.A.S.M.’s and the Taiyonian men Jaxx left a short duration ago. The S.A.S.M.’s, though, were heading back. Were they going back to the dropship? This fast? They’d just landed. It wasn’t like an S.A.S.M. team to turn tail and run, leaving a mission without attempting to fully carry it out.

Up ahead, a flurry of bombs detonated and Fox came into view as he was tossed high, flipping in mid-air.

Jaxx ran faster. “Trap initiated, let’s take him. Get the e-straps ready.”

Kiyo-zan held both hands together as he ran, his gold, metallic wrist bands ignited, and a long energy-chord manifested. He gripped the chord tight in one hand, pulling the bow from his back with the other hand.

Jaxx scooped up a pine cone, took in a big whiff out of the top of it, then dropped it on the ground. Instantly, more endurance and strength came to him. He rounded a tree and saw Fox getting up, his exo-suit covered in black soot, a chunk of his leg armor hung by a sliver.

Fox turned and in a quick motion, grabbed his weapon and let off round after round.

Jaxx and his buddies went into a defensive crouch and activated their shields, leaning into the concussive blasts.

“Enough!” yelled Jaxx, pushing his arm outward, sending a mass amount of Chi. A flow of dirt erupted in front of him and a line of soil catapulting out of the ground, speeding toward Fox. Fox lifted off the ground and was pushed sideways, landing hard on the forest floor.

Mako-zan smiled, then laughed, letting down his shield. A blast rocketed into Mako-zan and ripped through his upper back and out his chest. He took the hit well and stood his ground. He then gave Jaxx a stunned looked. His eyes rolled back and he fell face first.

Kiyo-zan and Jaxx twirled around, seeing an S.A.S.M. member heading toward them. In a few minutes, the entire Taiyonian Kasai Company would be here, but not soon enough.

“Kiyo-zan, hold him off. I’ve got Fox.” Jaxx rushed Fox and leaped from a higher position. He landed on Fox’s back as the S.A.S.M. leader went to get up.

Fox slammed into the dirt, then twisted, pushing Jaxx off of him.

Jaxx kept his balance and remained on his feet. He eyed Fox’s Oospor dropship only twenty yards away, powering up and about to lift off as a dust cloud started to form under it. Some of the S.A.S.M. team must have made it to the craft.

Fox ran toward the dropship, detaching a percussion device from his leg armor and tossing it over his shoulder.

Hitting the ground, the device lit up like a light, momentarily blinding Jaxx and everyone else in range. It rose into the air and twirled, then exploded shrapnel and neurotoxins throughout the area.

Jaxx dropped to the ground and curled into a ball. Lifting his arm, he initiated his shield. Pieces of thick munition pounded against his shield along with neurotoxin spray. It lasted a few seconds before Jaxx pushed to a standing position. Kiyo-zan was by his side, his shield up, safe as well.

Jaxx took a deep breath. Fox had boarded the dropship. Chasing him now would be useless. He dropped his head, then gasped. He remembered something. Fox would be a sitting duck upon lift off or shortly thereafter. A few Taiyonian starfighters were on their way, ready to bombard the S.A.S.M. team. A few cannon bolts and short range missiles would blink the dropship out of existence.

“Call it off.”

Kiyo-zan blankly stared at Jaxx. “Nani?”

“You heard me. I said, call it off.”

Kiyo-zan relayed the message through his wrist bracelet. He shot another look at Jaxx. “Doshite son’za koto o zimashita?”

“Why did I call it off?” Jaxx searched his heart. “I don’t know.” He wanted to say because he was a dumbass, but that would be too simple, too easy. It was something intuitive, telling him that if they ended Fox’s life, a piece of Jaxx would end as well.

Kiyo-zan paced a few steps to Jaxx and placed his hand on Jaxx’s heart. “Wakarimazu.”

“Thank you for understanding.” Jaxx patted Kiyo-zan’s hand, closing his eyes, then taking a sudden quick breath.

* * *

Opening his eyes, he was back in the dome, in the place called Flood of Dawn.

A hand gripped his. It was Fox, still on the table, eyes narrowed. “You saved me. Why did you save me?” His eyes darting left and right. “And why are those red cones important?”

Jaxx shrugged, pulling his hand out of Fox’s grip. “I don’t know. They open up something in us.”

“They open up your soul,” came a woman’s voice.

Jaxx spun. Liberty stood in an open doorway, Rivkah by her side. “Come with me. We don’t have much time. There’s something important you need to see.”

Fox pushed himself off the bed, his voice low. “I fight for SSP only. Not for you. Not for Jaxx. I’m giving you an hour to get me back space-side before I fuck more shit up. I owe Jaxx this, but only once.”

Liberty dipped her head. “If you wish.”

41

Georgia and Tennessee Border ~ Earth

“I don’t exactly know where your father is,” explained Drew, his eyes on the road, the vapors from the gas cans seeping into the car from the trunk.

They had used all but four gas cans, an odd gift from an even more odd and suspicious drone. Drew could count on his fingers how much luck he’d had his short life and he was happy to count one more.

“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth,” his mother used to say when he was younger.

“Then how do you know I’ll see him?” asked Mya.

Drew blinked a couple of times, staring at the road. Dusk was settling in. He was out of the mountains and heading for the shared Tennessee and Georgia hills, otherwise known as Lookout Mountain. From his estimation, he’d be there in twenty minutes or so. Then, what?

He tapped his noggin. He was a genius with a photographic memory. He had the directions in the forefront of his mind, plus every direction he’d ever read was filed away in his mind to be conjured up whenever needed.

“Drew?”

Drew jerked back, his mind intent on the drive and not the girl’s questions. “What?”

The girl looked up at him, eyes wide and angelic. “Will Mom be there when I see my dad?”

The freeway was long, uncomfortable, unknown. A car could come out of nowhere and try to get him to pullover for God knows what, or a Chinese jet could pick him off, or a bullet could shatter through the side window at any time. This wasn’t the United States of a few months ago where he was relatively safe—relatively. But this girl’s question trumped it all.

He cleared his throat. “Mya? I don’t want to lie to you. Your mom won’t be coming to see you.” He glanced at her for a moment, his heart seeping up to his throat. “And I don’t know how to get a hold of your father.”

Mya looked down at her fiddling hands. “What do you mean? You said my mom and dad were going to see me.”

Drew blinked a couple of times. The sweat rolled down his sides and soaked his belt. “Well, you see, I was scared and because I was scared, I lied. I didn’t want you to have a hard time while I was trying to keep us safe, so I made all that up.”

Mya kept her head down. “Oh...” she started to shake and tears welled up in her eyes.

Drew rubbed her back. “I will try to find your dad.” He shook his head. “No, I will find your dad.” He couldn’t believe his last statement. How would that be possible?

She grabbed his arm and squeezed it tight, leaning her cheek against it. How quickly she trusted him, how quickly she knew what he was saying would be true. “Mommy, too?”

He wanted to pull his arm back, he wanted to tell her how horrible life was and to be ready, because it’s going to get worse. He wasn’t a pessimistic guy, he was a realist leaning toward ridiculous optimism. He had this mindset that he could get anything accomplished that he wanted to, and he usually did, no matter how many different paths and windy roads he had to go onto to meet his accomplishments.

He peeked at his rear-view mirror. No one in sight. He pushed the volume button, turning on the radio. Static. He upped the dial, zipping through station after station. All static.

What else could he do to avoid the question?

He took a deep breath. “Mya? Your mom died.”

Mya released her grip and Drew brought his hand back, resting it on the middle console. Mya looked out of the passenger window, watching the trees pass by on the freeway. “What does die mean?”

How did she not know what death was? This wasn’t going to be easy. “When someone—” He slammed on the breaks, the wheels screeching a whine he’d only heard in movies, black rubber smoke trailing behind them.

Four cars—police cars—and a heavy SWAT-looking vehicle were lined across the freeway. Men in uniform stood in front of the car. Police rifles rested in their hands and across their arms. They spread out the moment they heard the screeching from Drew’s car.

Drew twisted the wheel as the car abruptly slowed, fish tailing, the back end skidding and nearly turning the car around. It came to a sudden halt. Smoke rose from the tires and surrounded the car.

Drew patted down Mya. Seeing no blood, he checked her eyes. She was awake, alive, and just as astonished as him. “Are you okay?”

She slowly nodded, her mouth curling downward. Drew’s hand was still on her chest, her heart beat rapidly against it.

“Sit still. That’s the police. Maybe they know what’s going on or where your daddy is.” Drew opened the door and stepped out. He eyed a police man with short hair, nice and tidy, mid-fifties, police-issue trousers and short sleeve shirt. He was clean shaven, although he had missed a spot. Several other policemen stood by him, all walking slowly in Drew’s direction.

Drew put his hands out, showing them he wasn’t someone to be wary of. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting a barricade.”

A policeman held his hand up, stopping the rest of the advancing police, then spoke, “In a different time, you would have been cited. Where are you trying to get to, son?”

“Lookout Mountain, Tennessee.”

“Why?”

Drew pointed behind the police man. “It’s just fifteen-minutes that way.”

The policeman gingerly looked behind him, as if that was a surprise to him. “I see. What for?”

“To meet with my friends.”

“What for?”

“For...uh...safety.”

“I’d suggest you turn around. The next city over is quite accommodating.”

Drew jabbed a finger over his shoulder. “Which one?”

The policeman flicked his nose with his thumb. “Piney Woods.”

Drew looked over his shoulder. Mya was in the car, watching Drew’s conversation. Drew looked back and eyed the policemen. They were standing patiently, though not happily. “If you guys part your cars, I can just drive on by.”

“Please turn around, Sir.” All policemen, as if they were part of a perfectly synchronized flock of flying birds, pointed their rifles at Drew. “I’m not going to ask again.”

Drew raised his hands. “All right.” He slowly backed up, then turned around, cautiously making his way to his car. Mya was in a ball on the front seat, hiding.

Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. Thrum.

Drew twisted around and faced the police, his eyes trained to the sky. A helicopter. The policemen, however, were in front of their cars, leaning against them, as if nothing was happening out of the ordinary.

The helicopter descended. The first rush of rotor blade wind slammed against Drew.

It lowered toward the police vehicles.

“Watch out. Just above you,” yelled Drew. How could the police officers not see the helicopter?

The helicopter’s landing skids were now a few inches from the top of the cars. It moved lower, its skids passing through the cars and the police as if they weren’t there. As if they were a hologram.

The helicopter touched down, its body slicing through the men and women in police garb, yet the they still hadn’t moved an inch. Drew jerked back. The police, along with their vehicles, disappeared.

A young man, hair smoothed back in an overabundance of hair gel, fixed his tie as he stepped out from the copter and buttoned his suit, yelling something at Drew.

Drew put his hands out. “What?”

The young man waved Drew over, the swirling air from the rotor blades kicking up dirt and tiny gravel, slapping Drew across his face.

“Sir,” said the man, coming closer. “President Jefferson Kennedy has asked to see you. Please join us in the helicopter and we can get you to him.”

Drew’s eyes swept across where the police were only moments ago. “Clever.”

“They’re holograms. Very advanced.” He cocked his head to the side, gesturing for Drew to get in the helicopter. “This way, Sir.”

Drew took a step forward, then remembered. “I have to get Mya.”

The young man’s eye brows lifted. “The young girl?”

Drew nodded.

“She’s already well on her way.”

Drew turned, seeing a young woman carrying Mya to the helicopter. Mya looked at Drew for help.

Drew rushed over and grabbed her from the woman.

The young man put his hand on Drew’s back, prodding him forward. “The President is in communication with Starship Atlantis.”

“You’re kidding me.”

“Trust me, that’s not the only surprise you’ll see.”

Drew stopped, his arms tightening around Mya. He could take her and get back in his car, turn tail, and find Mya’s father, who could probably protect her better than he could. But protection would be difficult racing through a war zone.

“I need to find this girl’s father.”

“We have all records of military personnel. We know where her father is.”

“Good.” Drew took a few steps forward and only feet from the helicopter, he halted. How could they possibly know this girl’s father was in the military?

42

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Fox left in his Oospor Class 9 Dropship in a hurry. Jaxx guessed Fox would orbit Callisto in wait for the Secret Space Program’s arrival, where he’d help pound the Atlanteans to shit. Why the Atlanteans let the prick leave, Jaxx didn’t understand. Fox would just be another asshole coming down to take the Atlanteans away from their civilization, most likely to enslave, beat, use them for bartering tools, or worse.

Jaxx sat at a picnic table. The table didn’t have legs and instead hovered in place. The bench he sat upon was soft like a cushion. He pressed his lips together, baffled with it all, especially with Fox. Not because the guy had left, but for his lack of excitement that Fox was gone. Something in him missed the guy—a guy that would kill him at any chance he could get. How could you miss a guy like that?

He rubbed his face. His stomach growled.

Rivkah approached on a path, holding a book so huge and thick he was surprised one person could carry it alone. A few men and women in combat uniform strode behind her, the trees surrounding the area fluttered on the breeze. Their pinkish-yellow leaves and golden needles shimmered in the artificial light from the glass dome above.

Past Rivkah, trees in the distance cascaded from hill top to hill top, accompanied by domed structures dotting the hills. A plethora of waterfalls plummeted everywhere.

He dropped his forehead into his hands. It was a beautiful city, but almost too beautiful, too concocted as if these people spent their entire life constructing, fixing, creating, and designing the greatest city in the galaxy. A city that would be gone in a matter of weeks, especially since the Kelhoon were already here.

He hung his head, pressing his forehead more into his palm. The Kelhoons were beatable. But even if they held off the Kelhoons, the Secret Space Program was on route. There was no way the Atlanteans could fend off both militaries. It was a logistical impossibility. The best the Atlanteans could do would be to leave, find another home, one that was putrid enough that not even the Golgath Boars of Panzea would find enjoyment there.

An image of a bi-ped human type creature with a hair-like mane, large furry ears, a pig nose, prominent tusks, and barrel, stout body came to his mind. Where the hell had that come from? He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that was a Golgath, probably another race he had met during his stint with the Secret Space Program. The memories were returning; faster now. And they were sticking.

When he’d worked with Doctor Donny, back in Underfoot Black, he’d had trouble holding on to the simplest memory from that time, but now he was seeing entire swathes of his own history in full, living color. If there was one thing he needed to do, it was apologize to Rivkah. No wonder the woman hated him. She believed he’d left her for dead, or at least left her burned to a crisp when her ship had gone down. He hadn’t, but she didn’t know that, or rather, didn’t believe it.

Rivkah whistled, bringing Jaxx to the present.

“Jaxx, you with us?” asked Rivkah, smiling pleasantly for the first time in...Jaxx couldn’t remember when. A part of him wanted to jump up and give her a hug, then a kiss, then more. The energetic pull seemed more and more intense every time he saw her. A flood of erotic desires almost oozed out of him. Did she feel the same?

Even if she did, he couldn’t sense it from her, couldn’t read her mind, as if she psychically masked it from these odd powers they both shared.

The ground shook, then the table. It almost rocked Jaxx onto his back. A thunderous roar filled the domed city and a bright flash lit up the pinkish-purple sky. He glanced to the east. An explosive cloud grew on the horizon.

Rivkah dropped the book on the table and shifted her hands to her hips. She watched the cloud along with Jaxx. “Those Kelhoons…they did something to a girl. I can’t get it out of my mind, Jaxx.” She glanced at her feet, pounding her boot heel into the earth. “We have to stop them. I don’t care how we do it, but we have to stop the coming slaughter.” She shook her head, squinting at the explosion in the distance.

Jaxx stared at the iron clad men and women behind Rivkah. They held spears with barrel tips, most likely used to shoot energy charges of some sort, rather than to poke.

Rivkah sat next to him, butting him over. “Scoot your fat ass over, gimpy.”

“I’m going to help them fight, but where is everyone?”

“Kaden Jaxx,” said a man, pointing at a temple at the top of the farthest and tallest hill that almost touching the glass dome. He dipped his head in respect. “I am Grenik Star. My people are underground, practicing and equipping. We have many warriors, but not enough I’m afraid.”

“They have technology that tops our own,” said Rivkah. “High-mechanized tanks, five-story tall mechs, advanced starfighters, you name it. They just don’t have the man power. These Atlanteans are masters in the air. I’ve seen it. They could give you a run for your money, but that’s not how you win a war. You win on the ground.” She shook her head, her eyes soft. Again, something Jaxx wasn’t used to. “I can’t tell you what I saw in East Rise, the city to the east, but it’s terrible. The Kelhoons are savage dogs and I can’t wait to whip them to put them in their place.”

“You’re thinking of joining this fight?”

“I’m not thinking. I’m doing.” She shrugged. “What else am I going to do? I either run, fail, or fight. That’s all I know.” She glanced at the book on the table. “Apparently, this is for you.” She stood. “I guess you, me, and blondie...uh…Katherine Bogle...are part of some master plan.” She gestured to the book. “Liberty told me it’s all in there.”

Jaxx looked at the book. There was no doubt that he would help with whatever these people needed. He just had to know more, to learn as much as he could about them, about any hieroglyph he could get his hands on, just in case it might tell him something worthwhile, something important like the vortex and the pyramid power. “What can you do with the pyramids, Grenik Star? Can you use them in a battle?”

Grenik folded his hands in front of him. “It’s not what we can do with it. It’s a matter of your willingness to do something with it.”

Jaxx tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

Grenik scratched his chin, looking uncomfortable, then gestured to the book. “It’s all there.”

Jaxx faced Rivkah. “Your chest.” At the top of her sternum was a blue, glowing crystal embedded in her skin.

Rivkah put her hand on Jaxx’s chest and a warmth enveloped him, soothed him. “You have one too. It’s a way of communication between us and them.” Her lips parted. She moved back and shifted her eyes and turned on her heels.

Did she feel it too? The attraction that was more like a magnet that went deeper than looks, appearances?

“Where are you going?” asked Jaxx, touching her shoulder.

She eyed his hand. “To the temple. We’ve got to get prepared. We’re commencing a ground assault tonight, hoping to get as many survivors over here as possible.”

“What’s happening out there?” asked Jaxx.

“There’s several cities on Atlantis Alto. Or, as you know it, Callisto. And, with many cities there’s many deaths, my friend,” responded Grenik. “We only know what we’ve seen in East Rise. The other cities aren’t responsive. Anyone we’ve sent through the pyramid coffers haven’t returned with reports.”

“Pyramid coffers?” questioned Jaxx.

“It’s a teleport system,” replied Rivkah.

“A teleport—”

“No more questions, my friend. We must leave.” Grenik bowed. “It’s your choice to join our fight, but we’ll not hold it against you if you don’t.”

He turned with his compatriots and walked down the rock slated path, except Rivkah.

“Please help us, Jaxx. I don’t know what it is, but you, Blondie, and I are important. I can feel it. We can help these people.”

“Why do you care? Why would you stay? These aren’t your people.”

Rivkah shook her head and gazed toward East Rise. “The girl. That was me growing up. She doesn’t have a chance.”

Another pull, from his heart to hers, grabbed him. “Did you feel that?”

“Feel what?”

He touched his heart. “Look, I don’t know why, but I’ve—”

Rivkah put her hand up, palm out. “Look, I know you’ve had some type of attraction for me for some time. I haven’t a clue why, since I’ve attempted to make it clear as day that you’re more a rat in my eyes than anything else.”

“You feel it.”

“I don’t.”

Her pupils dilated. She lied. “You do. But why do we have this attraction. I can’t stop thinking about you. All I want is you to be—”

“Stop.” She twisted around and walked after Grenik and his troops. “Please join us. This is more important than me and you.”

He watched her disappear down the descending path and into the woods. Sighing, Jaxx opened the heavy book. The words, no, the glyphs, were printed in Atlantean.

Each page had a year, starting back to the days of Atlantis. He perused page after page, reading nation-state treaties and Atlantis’s history. He went to the back of the book, seeing that the date was this day of all days—if counted correctly.

He slid his finger down the parchment, finding his name, and then Rivkah’s, Fox’s, and Bogle’s. The symbols on the page spoke of the three, and one overseer, then the one within the three.

What the hell does that mean?

He continued on, moving his finger down the page, sucking up each symbol like a sponge. “I’m the main key?” He put his hands up, still wondering what that meant.

He paused with a gasp. “I’m the sacrifice?” He slammed the book closed. “No, there has to be another way. If Bogle is the overseer, directing us what to do, and I’m the main key...” he bit his fingernail. “The sub keys are here to kill—”

A starfighter flew overhead, then another and another, exiting through a large square door in the dome.

He opened the book again to finish the last page. “Zan and Leo? They are the change? Change for what?” He read more symbols. “Coordinates and star systems?” He put his hand to his mouth. Coordinates were written throughout the page. It was a map. He could stay and fulfill his destiny or he could follow these coordinates—if he was fast enough—and fulfill his destiny an alternate way, one in which he wouldn’t need to sacrifice his life to save an entire Atlantean civilization.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why me? I’m a nobody.” He nodded. “That’s probably why. Why sacrifice a modern day Nikolai Tesla or a Joan of Ark? I’m just a washed up archaeologist that no one needs. Chances are they only need a warm body to set this in motion.” He didn’t believe, not for a single second, that he was an Atlantean-human hybrid, who’d been written about in their ancient books. He wasn’t the key. He was Kaden Jaxx. Just boring old Kaden Jaxx. No one special. Never had been, never would be.

He shook his head and shifted his negative thoughts to his translations of this book in front of him.

He smashed his cheeks in his hands as he leaned forward on the table. He closed his eyes, thinking. The book said his DNA was similar to a lever. Once it was pressed down, it would end all dark frequencies on Atlantis Alta in exchange for his own frequency. So, indeed, his death was on his doorstep. He was supposed to die to cancel out the negative vibes. That didn’t make a lick of sense.

Unless he followed the star coordinates on the map and did something else he hadn’t yet deciphered.

But, hell…either way, he needed to do something first.

He grabbed the book and tucked it under his arm and ran after Rivkah. Whether he was going to live or die, he needed to tell Rivkah how he felt about her, and now. And he needed to know that she felt the same.

43

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Callisto Orbit

Fox leaned back in his chair. His exo-suit was on the floor. He curled his fingers behind his neck. In his Oospore, Fox watched Callisto as if it was a movie on his vid screen. He pressed his ship’s cloaking mechanism and yawned. He listened to the wheels vibrating against the dropship’s inner walls, pivoting the outer armor like dragon scales poking outward, the outer armor revealing radar-deflecting mirrors. Hopefully that would keep the Kelhoons away for the short duration he’d be in Callisto’s orbit.

His control panel beeped and Slade appeared on the screen. Fox flinched, not expecting to hear from Slade until the Secret Space Program entered the system.

“Welcome, Colonel. I’m here, awaiting your arrival. I have a lot of information I want to—”

“It’s more than that, Kajka Okbak,” said Slade.

Fox rubbed his forehead. “What was that, Colonel?”

The screen switched and a Kelhoon appeared. The creature grinned, slightly baring his teeth—if you could call a no-lipped, straight mouth a grin. “Koojkaka Gonoij.”

“Excuse me,” replied Fox. “Colonel, can you please—”

“No, no, Kajka.” Slade obviously couldn’t hear Fox. He instead talked directly to the Kelhoon. “That’s not what I’m saying. Once we take Callisto, my people are all yours, not just some of them, all of them.”

The scaly freak gave a satisfied nod. “Shakja Sivjka Goojna.”

“Thank you for that gift. I’ll gladly accept it once the invasion is over. Things have not gone as planned, so Plan B is in effect. I applaud your continued loyalty, Kajka. Human-farms are on the docket.”

Fox checked the comm line. He had intercepted a frequency. Or, better yet, someone had nudged his energy comm dial to receive a line from a private conference call.

Kajka put his fists together. “Kja Oovgoj.”

Slade mimicked him, punching his fists together as well. “Kja Oovgoj.”

The transmission blipped off.

“Kja Oovgoj?” It was the Kelhoons party line when it came to genocide. Even Fox knew how to translate it. “To kill them all.” It meant that no matter how many extraterrestrial Beings inhabited an area or were part of an allied cause, the victors were never the allies, the victor was the remaining combat unit or units left alive from a particular race. After the bloodshed on Callisto, and after all the Atlanteans were dead, the Kelhoons would attack the SSP. And with Slade on their side. It meant that the Atlanteans and the Humans would be killed, exterminated, once this war ended. And the ones that weren’t exterminated, he’d use for factory human-farms?

Slade was sick.

Fox tapped his teeth with his fist. It couldn’t be. Would Slade really throw his entire men and women, Senators and Governors, the SSP, into the slobbering maw of the Kelhoons? He didn’t know Slade too well, didn’t know his intricacies of diplomacy. Maybe Slade was setting the Kel up, positioning him to expose who the Kel truly were so the Secret Space Program could end Kajka Okbak and his fleet the moment the battle for Callisto was complete?

He stood and paced back and forth, thinking...thinking...

If Slade recorded the conversation, Slade could use it against the lizard-heads. If not, then Slade kept the conversation on the down low, making sure no one knew what ace Slade had up his sleeve. In such a case, Slade was going to throw his own blood under the bus, slap some bombs by the tires, and detonate them.

He checked the comm line. He pressed a few holographic buttons, patching into the call he’d just mysteriously received. He pressed play.

Static.

He brought the call up again and pressed more buttons. The word DEADLOCKED filled the screen. The call had been erased, no recording available.

He pounded his chair, his face flushed red. “I’m going to kill him. There ain’t no shootin’ his noose when he’s hanged.”

Another beep, this one different. The lights switched to combat red, imbuing the ship’s insides. Fox leapt up, checking his own radar. He had inbound—three Leaping Lizards—Kelhoon Starfighter LL-class 4’s. He was being targeted.

So much for his cloaking device.

He flicked his engine to overdrive. They could chase him all over the galaxy if he ran, but thought better of it. He was fast, but mostly defenseless when it came to a star battle.

He clenched his jaw. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He pressed forward, adjusting his craft to forty-five degrees. “I’m on my way back. Sheeeit.”

44

Lookout Mountain, Tennessee ~ Earth

Two leather bucket seats faced each other in the helicopter. Drew and Mya sat on the rear seat, the suit-wearing young man, acting too old for his age, sat directly across from them. They wore helmets with a thick microphone boom rounding to their mouths.

The helicopter descended toward a clearing on Lookout Mountain. The top of the mountain stretched north and south for miles. Trees and shrubbery were across the high landscape, not to mention the streets and rich mountain homes.

The man across from them smiled. “By the way, I’m Nick Thacker. They call me T-hacker.”

Drew cocked his head. “You were on the launch that was aired on TV. You were part of Slade’s crew.”

T-hacker winked. “The fake launch. It got me here, didn’t it?”

“Where’s here?”

The helicopter’s skids touched down and the cabin jostled. T-hacker opened the door. “We’re at the new White House. Welcome.”

The guy stepped out of the helicopter. The wind whipped across his perfect hair. Drew unstrapped himself and Mya, then grabbed her and walked out of the helicopter, the crunch of gravel under his feet. The helicopter lifted and Drew bent down, shielding Mya from the helicopter’s gust. It slowly flew forward and over a line of trees, disappearing from view, the sound dissipating the farther away it went.

Drew picked up Mya and studied the area. Large rocks, trees, and grayish-brown soil littered the area. Nothing stuck out as unusual.

“Step this way, Drew,” said T-hacker, gesturing at two large rocks butted against a cliff.

A click and kajijijiji pierced the air. The rocks split apart like opening doors.

Mya squeezed Drew. “Don’t go in there.”

He patted her back and whispered in her ear. “We’ll be fine. They know where your daddy is.”

They walked toward the opening, then Drew halted as three men exited and made their way toward him. Drew squinted, wishing it wasn’t so dusk. Is that? No, it couldn’t be. “Anderle?”

Anderle slapped his hands together then pushed away his long, dyed black hair that draped over his eyes. “Hey, buddy.” He laughed, his belly jiggling through his black, anime shirt. “This is the new White House.” He gestured to a man standing next to him. “Meet President Jefferson Kennedy.”

The president waved, then vanished.

Drew shuffled back a step. “What the...”

Anderle rose his brows, wrinkling his forehead. “Oops, did he just disappear? Oh, yeah, ’cause he’s not real. Another hologram, thank you very much.” He pointed to his chest. “Guess who’s the President?” He slowly nodded his head, exaggerating his movements. “Uh-huh, me. I’ve got the whole world thinking President Jefferson Kennedy is an actual person. But, nope, it’s my words coming out of his digitally enhanced voice.” He shrugged, already over the incredibleness of it all.

Drew looked at the man standing next to Anderle. The guy was Asian, which was great, but the guy didn’t act like he was from the United States or Japan or Taiwan or another allied country. The man’s body-language shouted angry foreigner—the way he stood, the way his head bobbed up and down when Drew made eye contact with him. He shifted a mouth muscle for a smile or a frown. He was military. What the heck was going on?

“Yeah, yeah,” said Anderle. He threw a sideways thumb at the foreigner. “This is Timothy Johnson, or who I like to call, Spank-a-lot. He’s not a hologram.”

The guy shot Anderle a look.

Anderle laughed. “I’m just playin’ with ya, bro. This is General Lin Yu. He’s here to help.”

Drew had read that name before and the titles, rank, and accomplishments quickly flashed to the forefront of his mind. “That’s the Senior General for the People’s Republic of China. What’s he going to help with?”

“Oh, don’t be scared. He’s harmless.” He pinched the General’s arm.

The General gave him a sick stare, this time his lips were in a frown. “Tíngzhǐ tā, nǐ bù chéngshú de xiǎohái.”

“Sorry, man. I don’t know what you’re saying. We’re in America, speak English.” Anderle rolled his eyes, then walked toward the shadowy opening between the rocks. “It’s beautiful in here. Come join us. We’re the head of the Resistance, the all-seeing eye that’s ordering all United States military units.” He stopped, turning, blending into the shadow between the two giant rocks. “We also have full on dialogue with Senator Ken Furr on Starship Atlantis whenever we want. We have something up our sleeves, if you know what I mean.” He turned, then hesitated. “Oh, I almost forgot. You’ll be safe here during the earth changes. We’re high enough for the flood to just miss us and we’re on top of and inside thick stone that won’t be harmed by the massive earthquakes heading our way.” He stepped inside, his voice echoing through the opening. “And, I ain’t shittin’ you about that, bro.”

45

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Jaxx had a hand on his hip and held the large book against his chest. He’d just run a great distance uphill, following the slate rock path that led him past forests, empty adobes, and a myriad of glass temples that were filled to the brim with scrolls and books, until finally making it to the top temple and inside where Liberty stood. She studied coordinates and troop movements displayed in a hologram just above a large, round table. High officials surrounded her, studying the hologram as well.

Grenik, Bogle, and Rivkah were nowhere to be seen.

Liberty ran her finger over a mass of Kelhoon troops and dragged an arrow near a hill. “Our transport crafts will drop Din Team here. Din Team will flank the Kelhoons at this spot, more or less to distract the Kelhoons.” She looked up. “We’ve found that the Kelhoons learn quickly and adjust appropriately, so this will need to be a fast hit.” She drew a line across the hologram and circled one of the pyramids. “Sey Team teleports and exits East Rise’s Akmon Pyramid. Once Sey Team is in position, we search for as many survivors as we can. We’ll have Ehep Starfighter Squadron inbound the moment Sey Team teleports in. Ehep will strike the Kelhoon from the rear and trap them in front of Din Team.” She glanced at Jaxx. “You’re Dut Team, if you so wish to join us in the fight. If you do wish to join us, then you’re on standby.”

“Too many names. Too much strategy. I’m not a warrior. I’m an archeologist…”

Liberty smiled. “You’re the key, Kaden Jaxx. You’ve always been the key.”

He didn’t want to join a war, a battle where his fate—his death—decided the outcome. “Why am I the key?”

“A half-human, half-Atlantean’s DNA. That’s the key.”

“You mentioned Fox.”

“There’s only two of you and Fox isn’t as stable as you. He’d create chaos. You’d create stability and peace.”

“What is it that I’d do?” He cut himself off, his eyes brightening. He remembered the loophole. “Fox isn’t here anymore and Dut Team—Second Team...” he wanted to remind her that he knew Atlantean, “can only work with Rivkah, Bogle, Fox, and me.” He tapped the book, telling her he’d read it. Well, a few pages, and with Fox out of the picture, his destiny to give his life to save theirs—the shitty plan he wasn’t at all thrilled with—would no longer be an option. He could go ahead with the other plan to follow the star coordinates and figure out his next steps after that. Perhaps they led him somewhere that had the alternate method spread out before him.

Liberty dipped her head. “He’s on his way back.”

Jaxx’s heart dropped. This wasn’t good. “Oh, I see.” Yet, it couldn’t be. Why would Fox exit the exosphere and come right back? He wouldn’t defy any higher ranked officer in the Secret Space Program. He was soldier through and through. He took orders from the SSP higher ranks as if they were straight from God.

All eyes turned to Jaxx, as if the commanders had also read what Liberty read—his mind. She spoke, her eyes calm and steady. “You do not wish to proceed with the prophecy?”

Jaxx shook his head like a wet dog. Hell no. Who would? “I wish to help in another way.”

Liberty snapped her fingers and the hologram disappeared. She took an elegant stride forward. “Perhaps if we showed you first hand the terror these Kelhoon have wrought upon our people, then you would change your mind and enter the pyramid coffer?”

“I understand your plight.” He didn’t. “But I just want to live a wee bit longer.” He put his thumb and finger up, showing her a small space in between them.

“You’ll live.” She touched her chest. “You’ll live in our hearts for eternity. Statues, bridges, and temples will be built in your honor. People will sing songs about you. Oh, you will live forever.”

“I understand and thank you. That’s flattering. I just have a few hang ups about it.” Jaxx went to walk away, but was held in place by some force of nature he couldn’t break. He winced, doing his best to trudge forward, but a paralysis set in, anchoring him to the floor. “Let me go.”

“I can’t, Jaxx,” responded Liberty. “Your DNA forbids it. It’s not only us who wants you to live your destiny. It’s your DNA. You’ve been programmed since you were a child.”

“Well, turn the program off. This book I’m holding says there’s another way.”

“We didn’t program it in you, Jaxx. The Law of One did. Your body knows there’s not enough time to go on a trip to the stars, flying from coordinate to coordinate and sector to sector.” She touched his back, her expression lack, her chin trembling. “You’re truly amazing. You’re the seat of our souls.”

“The seat of...what the hell does that mean?”

He tried to break free, he tried to kick out of this gripping force that rooted him in one spot. Nothing worked, nothing gave way.

A door opened and in came four people carrying an ornate chair on a platform, long wood rods were on each side and resting on their shoulders. Their shoes clacked on the tile flooring, getting louder the closer they came. They rested the chair on the ground and stepped to the side, smiling. The two men who Liberty had ordered to take Jaxx to the coffers lifted him off the ground and gently placed him on the chair.

“Please don’t do this, Liberty. I can help in another way.”

Liberty gave him an odd look. “Yes, this is the way you can help us. You’ve chosen.”

“I did not choose to die.”

“I know,” replied Liberty.

“Then what’re you doing? Let me live.”

She clapped her hands together. “Excellent.” The chair lifted in the air, this time hovering on its own. It turned, heading for the light seeping through the open doors. To Jaxx, living in infamy wasn’t by dying for people he barely knew.

“Don’t worry, Jaxx,” said Liberty, “I’ll be watching when you transfer over.”

“Transfer over?” The chair hovered through the doorway and out into an open meadow where an SF-13 Air Wing sat. Tall grass hid the landing gear and touched the starfighter’s belly. The chair descended to the ground.

Jaxx stood and turned, facing the temple. His body relaxed. He had read Liberty wrong. He was indeed going to the coordinates, and apparently in an Air Wing.

Liberty walked out. “Get into your Air Wing and you’ll be shown what to do next.” She bowed. “Thank you for being in service to us.”

He walked to his Air Wing, pulled himself on top of the wing, and climbed into the cockpit. A helmet on his seat and he placed it over his head. Starting the boosters, Jaxx gave Liberty and the few commanders a thumbs up.

“The helmet is connected to my mind,” came Liberty’s voice. “Fly to the coordinates on your holographic control display.”

A map materialized on the corner of the flight console. Jaxx narrowed his eyes. Never mind. This wasn’t good. “The coordinates are on Callisto. I thought I was going to the stars?”

“We don’t have time for that. The coordinates are to our great pyramid’s apex.”

Jaxx’s shoulder’s drooped. “So, I’m giving away my life?”

“You’re being in service.”

Shit. “What if I decline?”

“Your ship is already set to the coordinates. You have given us your choice and we’re setting that choice into motion.”

The Air Wing rose. “No, wait! I decided against it. You know I did. Stop this thing!” He pounded against the cockpit window.

“There’s no stopping, there’s only doing. Now, Jaxx, you’ve decided against the transmutation of your DNA to end the darkness in the Beings who are currently attacking us. That we understand and we applaud your choice.”

The starfighter blasted forward, heading through an opening in the glass dome’s wall. “Then where am I going?”

“You’re going on the second route, the second idea to end the war and bring peace to our civilization once again.”

“You just said I was—” Jaxx paused, more confused than ever, but if he was taking a second route, then he wasn’t going to question anymore.

His Air Wing exited the domed city and zipped forward, heading for the great pyramid where a mess of beings amassed, entering through a large opening at the pyramid’s base.

A golden light enveloped the cockpit. A white flash and then darkness.

He gasped, looking around, seeing stars and Jupiter in front of him.

“I didn’t go far.” He patted himself. “And I’m alive?”

“Very much so,” responded Liberty. “In two minutes, you’ll be catapulted to another star system in our galaxy. From there, follow the coordinates, Jaxx.”

46

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Rivkah wrung her hands together and glanced at Bogle. “Are you fine with this?”

They were in a small structure just outside Flood of Dawn’s great pyramid. Bogle stood over a table with a holographic display illuminated in front of her. It was a view of the battlefield. None of the teams had deployed yet, but in a matter of minutes, the assault and survivor retrieval would commence.

Bogle wore a device similar to the device around the Princess Leia statue’s head, looking like futuristic headphones—ear cups around the ears cushioned with soft ear pads that illuminated in an inner glow the moment they were placed on Bogle’s head.

The head band was positioned toward the back of the head instead of on top. Blue, glowing lights projected a few inches outward from the band, forming hieroglyphs that zoomed by quickly, similar to stats running across the board at the New York Stock Exchange. A few Atlanteans, wearing similar devices, stood around tables in the large, crystalline room, in charge of specialized teams and leaders in the coming assault.

Bogle nodded her head. “I’ll be fine. That question should be asked to you, but you wouldn’t give me an honest answer, because your life has been embroiled in lies and deceit perpetrated by you, your family, and the people you worked for, so your habit to shrug everything off and call it normal would be catalyzed by your past loop. You’d tell me you’re good, but deep inside, you’re crying and craving for peace, for acceptance, and for your family—most notably your father—to applaud you as a human being, rather than look at you as if you were in the way and the scum of the Universe. Also—” Bogle pulled the head phones off and touched her throat. “I’m so sorry. I could see everything in you and I couldn’t shut myself up.”

“Well, bullseye. But don’t need a therapist at the moment.” Rivkah placed her hand on Grenik’s shoulder. “Do we have to do this? I’m all good with helping, but having someone in my mind the entire time is going to distract the shit out of me.”

Grenik’s eyebrows pulled down in concentration. He gestured for Bogle to hand him the head phones. She promptly did. He pressed buttons on the head band. “This is connected to the Lady of Atlantis statue and thus is connected to every individual on this planet. With this on, she will be able to telepathically communicate with you or whoever’s energy signature she wishes by pressing on any warrior’s signature on the holographic screen.” He pursed his lips, continually pressing more buttons. “There we go,” he said, his face relaxing. “We had it on a different mode. Now she’ll be able to communicate as she wishes, no longer getting into your issues to bring them to the forefront. She’ll be able to lead you from place to place, so you can complete your mission.” He gave the device back to Bogle.

Rivkah looked over Grenik’s shoulder, grabbing a view of her team. They were outside the beautiful city. A gang of female and male warriors. They stood outside and passed the door on the barren, dry land, battle-ready and prepared to enter the Great Pyramid to teleport to East Rise. The majority of them were part of Sey team, there to extract as many surviving Atlanteans in East Rise as possible. Twelve, including Grenik, were part of Tos team—her team—there to assassinate the Kelhoons leader and change the tide of this war. They had the leader’s location and Bogle would be Rivkah’s eyes, leading the team there.

“You hear me, Rivkah?” asked Bogle.

Rivkah rubbed her ears. “I’m going to have to get used to hearing your voice in my head. This is disorienting.”

“During combat,” responded Grenik. “It won’t be an intrusion. You get used to it fast.” He turned, putting a fist in the air. “Sey Team, are you ready?”

A hefty cheer engulfed the area and Grenik dropped his hand. “Proceed to the coffer and when in East Rise, may the Law of One be with you. Defend yourselves and defend those of our friends in need, and bring them all to safety.”

The soldiers spun on their heels and marched to an opening at the base of the pyramid, their gold clad armor shimmering brilliantly from Jupiter’s light and the light of Jupiter’s innermost moons. The troops held energy spears and tridents as they traversed across the gray, white land.

Twelve stayed put and Grenik Star motioned to them. “Do you wish to proceed, Rivkah?”

“Where’s Jaxx?” she asked.

Bogle looked down, gathering information through her head phones. She shook her head. “He chose another route.”

For a moment, Rivkah wanted to pick up something and throw it across the room. She should have known he’d chicken out and ditch them. It was nothing new with Jaxx, especially in her life. The asshole always had a way of throwing her to the wolves.

Grenik rested his hand on her back. “He would have given his life, had there not been another option.”

Rivkah shot him a look. “I’m giving my life right now. My other option was to run, but I decided against. Obviously Jaxx hasn’t changed.”

“Either option he chooses has the slightest chance to save us all. He has chosen wisely, my friend.”

“Says you,” replied Rivkah, calming herself, something a captain that has been in charge of many people learned to do over time, especially in the Secret Space Program where people died left and right and the only thing keeping the survivors alive was a calm, cool, and collected leader.

And, truth be told, Rivkah was happy to take her anger out on the Kelhoons rather than Jaxx. She’d be calm until those pricks were in her crosshairs. “So be it.” She made her way past Grenik, picked up a helmet attached to the wall, and walked out into the cold air. They were in a crater, three pyramids on hills stood before her, an obelisk to her right and Lady of Atlantis to her left. She trudged toward the warriors that headed to the biggest of the pyramids.

A cold wind blew against her, but her suit of armor somehow kept her warm. Her ears and face, on the other hand, felt the touch of the arctic-like frost.

She put her helmet on, her head and face instantly warming.

Grenik caught up and handed her a rifle. “Here you go, Captain Rivkah Ravenwood.”

She looked down at the rifle in her hands, studying it. “A PR-8. Where did you get one of these?”

“We have several we recovered that were floating undamaged in space from Star Warden’s demise.”

She patted the rifle. “At least you found something good out of it.” She looked through the scope. It still worked. She glanced behind her. “What are they waiting for?” Tos Team, her team, was huddled together.

“A pep talk, of sorts. Usually the team leader does that.” He gave her a wink.

“Nah, not me. No more. Let’s get this shit done and over with.” She faced her team. “Hey, Tos Team. Get over here. We have Kelhoons’ brains to smash.”

Tos Team looked at each other, obviously not expecting their leader to be so harsh. They dipped their heads and began their walk.

“Let’s go,” Rivkah waved them forward.

They tread to the foot of the Great Pyramid. Rivkah stopped at the entrance, gazing at the top of the pyramid. Its golden apex glowed, lighting up the sky, electricity flamed outward like lightening at the pyramid’s uppermost point. What was she getting herself into? She was going to teleport? Literally?

Vzzzoooom!

Rivkah fell back as the pyramid’s apex let out a beam of golden light and a craft, approaching at a ridiculous speed, plummeted straight into that beam, a white flash enveloped the sky, then the electricity died down and the craft vanished.

She pushed herself to a standing position. “What was that?”

“Jaxx,” said Grenik. “Pray that he completes his mission successfully.”

She waved a dismissive hand. She didn’t care. She had other things to worry about. “Jaxx, you coward.”

She stepped inside the pyramid, ducking her head when she entered a narrow and shallow tunnel. Several soldiers were in front, waiting their turn to enter the coffers and teleport to East Rise’s Akmon Pyramid. By now, Din Team were in combat with the Kelhoons. And, as if on cue, a dozen almond shaped starfighters zoomed by, zipping toward East Rise, ready to pin the Kelhoons to the ground, if everything went right.

In war, nothing goes right.

“It’s our turn,” said Grenik. He gave Rivkah a slight nudge.

“What?” The long tunnel was empty. “Scotty beamed them up that quickly?”

“Who beamed them up?”

“Never mind.”

Rivkah walked up a long ramp, almost crawling she had to bend down so low. “Who designed this piece of shit? You could have made it a little easier to walk through.”

“It’s designed by our master engineers. This isn’t just a passageway for people. It’s for energy, water, and orb clusters to enter and exit. It’s made perfectly to create conductivity—”

“Okay, got it,” interrupted Rivkah. “Let’s skip the quantum physics.” An opening came into view and Rivkah entered a wide, deep room, surrounded by black granite walls. An empty, stone sarcophagus, otherwise known as a coffer, sat in the middle.

“Everyone place your hands on the coffer,” ordered Grenik. “And, for those that can’t, put your hands on our backs.”

Rivkah placed a hand on the coffer while holding her rifle in the other. Grenik stood next to her, doing the same. One by one, the rest of the team placed their hands on the stone coffer, except for two who didn’t have room. A hand touched Rivkah’s back.

“Hi Rivkah,” said Bogle, booming into Rivkah’s mind.

Rivkah jerked back, startled. “Don’t do that.” She looked at everyone, pointing to her head. “Bogle’s on the line.”

Bogle spoke. “I guess I just press this button and—”

Everything went white and Rivkah watched as her hands faded in front of her, then reappeared, hands still on the same coffer.

“Let’s go,” said Grenik, lifting his hands off the coffer. He rushed through the doorway.

“Okay, we’re safe when you exit the coffer,” mentioned Bogle.

“Hold on. We teleported?”

“Yes,” responded Bogle. “You’re now in East Rise. Get out and get out fast. Kelhoon are coming.”

A woman soldier grabbed Rivkah’s hand, pulling her out of the opening and down another shallow and narrow tunnel.

Rivkah shook her hand loose just as an explosion pounded next to the pyramid, shaking the ground. Rivkah slid down the descending tunnel, her feet touching the ground at the exit. She popped up and ran, following Grenik and the rest of the team.

Bogle’s voice blipped back into her mind. “Tell them to go left, down the Garden Downs alleyway.”

Rivkah ran forward, jumping over a man lying on the ground, dead and charred to the bones. “The Garden Downs alleyway?”

“They’ll know what I’m speaking of, so hurry. Tell them.”

The city burned. Fire consumed the trees and smoke billowed out of dome windows, graying the sky. Tracer rounds pocketed the hills that encompassed the city, followed an instant later by hefty explosions from ion blasts.

Rivkah couldn’t tell who was winning or losing, but East Rise and its inhabitants were in the middle of hell.

The air was filled with burning skin. She reached Grenik.

“Bogle says we need to go down Garden Downs alleyway.”

Grenik nodded and turned on a dime. “Follow us. We need you in the middle of the pack. We’re guarding you.”

They turned down a narrow passage in between domes and golden gates, untouched flowers of vibrant colors, streaming down green vines hanging off of the dome’s roofs and intertwining in the gates.

“Halt! And, duck down. Kelhoons will be passing your twelve very soon,” yelled Bogle.

Rivkah covered her ears, Bogle’s voice pounding against her brain. “Lighten up, Bogle. You're about made me deaf.” She ignored Bogle’s apologies and put her hands up. “Stop. Kelhoons approaching. Everyone, take cover.”

Dut Team wasn’t about conflict. They were the assassin team, and they were in East Rise to kill off the Kelhoons’ beloved leader. Somehow, the Atlanteans knew where the leader was. How they could even tell a Kelhoon apart, let alone find their leader, was an anomaly to Rivkah. In combat, however, you don’t question and if you do, you better have a life-saving answer.

The team spread out, butting up against anything and everything.

Rivkah leaned back against a gate, the colorful foliage somewhat camouflaging her, hiding her torso from view, but the rest was out in the open, begging to be seen.

A small troop of Kelhoons ran by a cobblestone path at the end of the alleyway, their green scales covering their very human-like faces, their bodies tall and wide, thick with muscle. Their weapons of choice were cannon blasters that hung over their shoulders by a strap and long, thin rifles, very much like the rifles issued to the Space Marines in the Secret Space Program.

One Kelhoon stopped at the alleyway, his scales protruding outward, his pupils slit like a snake’s, his tongue pushing outward. He wore armor, thick and blue, his helmet covering his black hair, though its long strands fell down its back. He raised his rifle, then lowered it, slowly striding into the alleyway. “Boongasha!”

He let loose a few shots and a Dut Team member slumped, shooting back with his three-pronged trident and missing wide before dying. His body hit the ground hard.

Everyone, including Rivkah, returned fire, riddling holes throughout the Kelhoon’s body. It fell back onto the cobblestone street, its blue blood oozing onto the ground, its eyes open, deathly staring at the heavens that its soul had no chance of reaching.

“They’re doubling back, Rivkah,” said Bogle. “Tell your team to get ready.”

Rikvah went to one knee, aiming her rifle at the soon to be oncoming Kelhoon grunts. “Get ready, they’re doubling back.”

A few of the Dut Team raced toward the end of the alleyway, passing the Kelhoon they just stuck a couple dozen bolts through, and leaned up against the gate. The rest went to one knee as well, aiming their weapons.

The first Kelhoon jumped into the alleyway, blasting at anything and everything, putting holes in the domes. Chunks of rocks shot outward.

Rivkah pulled her trigger, hitting the Kelhoon smack-dab between the eyes. The Kelhoon was then greeted with a shot to the gut and to the side of the head by the two Dut Team members at the end of the alleyway. Blood splat as the Kelhoon dropped to his knees and fell forward, dead.

A long sword flew across the alleyway from behind the team, digging into a woman’s back. She screamed, then turned, putting two charges into a Kelhoon coming from their rear. The woman lay on her side, dropping her weapon, reaching for the sky. Her arm fell and her breathing stopped.

They were surrounded, if you could call it that. The Kelhoon had them at both ends of the alleyway, the gates and domes trapped them in at the sides.

“You led us to our death, Bogle,” moaned Rivkah, taking aim at another Kelhoon, dropping it before it could get a shot off.

“I’m tasked to get you to their leader. I’m doing my best to keep you alive.”

“Find us a way out.”

Grenik rushed forward at a Kelhoon mere feet from Rivkah, and slammed his shoulder into the side of the intruder, tackling him to the cobblestone. Grenik slipped his arms around the Kelhoon’s neck, twisted, and a crack indicated an end-to-life break for the half-lizard.

They were being overrun, Kelhoon coming in from each direction; over gates, from the top of the domes, and in the front and back of the alleyway.

“Use your powers, Rivkah,” screamed Bogle.

“This doesn’t feel like you took us in this direction by accident, Bogle.” Rivkah dropped her rifle, covering her ears. “You—”

Rivkah’s anger rose, coming to the surface, and then outward as she thrust her arms to her side. A Kelhoon flew back into a fellow soldier. Rivkah picked up her rifle and rushed the Kelhoon, sliding in by its side, putting two shots into its brain, then quickly stood, pounding her fist into another Kelhoon making its way past another recently killed Atlantean. The Kelhoons fell back, toppling over a downed fellow soldier.

Rivkah jumped and landed a knee on its chest, then pounded her fist against his face. He grabbed her and tossed her like a rag doll, then pulled out a jagged sword. It reared back. The sword sliced through another Atlantean Dut Team member coming to help, dropping the woman. She flopped to her side, holding her stomach.

Rivkah placed a well-aimed kick into the Kelhoon’s groin just as he came down with the sword. A blast rang out, hitting the Kelhoon in the head, and Rivkah spun away, the sword penetrating the ground where she once was, the Kelhoon falling forward, breathless.

Rivkah popped into a defensive crouch, waiting for the next enemy, seeing that the others from her team were ready to pounce as well. Yet, everything in the alleyway was strangely quiet, the echoing of the distant battle bouncing off the dome walls.

She gathered herself and glanced at the damage done. “Five of us dead, fourteen of them.” Not bad. These Atlanteans knew what they were doing. Trapped, and they still came out on top.

Rivkah walked forward. “Bogle, no more screw ups. Where now?” Somehow it felt like a trap. But why would Bogle lead them to their deaths? It made no sense. She shook away her suspicion.

“More Kelhoon coming, so get out of there as fast you can. Race to the domes in Koptic End. Await instructions there.”

Rivkah rushed to the end of the alleyway, the rest following her. She peeked around the corner, seeing a blood bath take place down the way, the Atlanteans taking the brunt of a battle they didn’t want.

A hand grabbed her shoulder. “You get in the middle of the pack,” said Grenik, greenish-blue blood splattered across his golden chest armor. “Where to next?”

“Koptic End.”

“Excellent. We go now.”

A few soldiers pushed Rivkah into the center of the group, surrounding her the best they could with five less warriors on their team.

They entered a scorched and blackened forest, smoke trailing off tree branches, the ground blanketed in ash. They ran for ten minutes, brushing past dead tree after dead tree, a few Kelhoon and dozens of Atlanteans were strung around the trees, lifeless. Rivkah did her best not to inhale the smell of barbecued flesh.

“Koptic End is up ahead,” said Grenik.

They pushed passed the edge of the forest, entering a meadow filled with dome upon dome, also beaten to shit, their walls caved in, their roofs collapsed, and many more dead lying in the streets.

“Bogle, we’re here.”

“The Kelhoon HQ is moving. It must be a ship.”

“Is it taking off?”

“It’s too far away now.” Bogle sighed. “You will never get there from here. I’ll call in a transport.”

Rivkah leaned against a dome, eyeing Grenik. “She’s calling a transport. The HQ has left its current position.”

Grenik smiled. “We may need to attempt this at another point in time, Rivkah. Let’s fall back. We’ve done too mu—” He winced in pain, his breath expelling quickly. He looked down, grabbing a sword thrust through his stomach, blood dripping across his hands and down his stomach armor. “So much for double-gilded armor.” He turned around. A Kelhoon raced toward him. He lifted his spear, sending a smearing of shots in its direction, hitting the alien bastard, then more shots blanketed the Kelhoon from the rest of Dut Team. The Kelhoon and Grenik both hit the ground, never to breathe again.

Rivkah looked at the fallen warrior, Grenik, her mouth gaped open. That sword came out of nowhere. Almost as if they’d been sent into a trap. It had to be. The second one in less than twenty minutes. “Bogle, what are you doing?”

“I’m sorry, Rivkah. I’m not here to defend the demons that killed Star Warden and have taken you, me, Jaxx, and Fox prisoner. I’m here against my will, Rivkah. I’m here against the will of God.”

“I’m your God Damn Captain, Bogle. You take orders from me.”

“I’m sorry. Bogle, out.”

“Bogle?”

No reply.

“Bogle!”

Nothing.

“That piece of shit. Does anyone have any loyalty?” She lifted her rifle. A swarm of Kelhoon came out of domes, their weapons aimed at Rivkah and what remained of Dut Team. Dut opened fire and several Kelhoons fell. Rivkah knew this wasn’t a winning battle and backed away, firing her PR-8 on auto, red-tracer fire, ripping apart Kelhoon after Kelhoon. If she had to die, she was going to take as many of them with her as she could.

A bolt sliced into her thigh and she dropped to the ground, picking off more Kelhoons as they filed out in droves. An Atlantean slammed into her, knocking her over. She pushed the Atlantean away, only to see he was dead.

She crawled backward, butting up against a dome, the PR-8 starting to burn her hands from the continued auto-fire, practically melting her skin to the rifle.

She took a quick survey, still firing wildly, doing her best to keep the Kelhoons at bay. She was the only one on her team left alive, and although Dut Team had killed a lot of Kelhoons, a lot wasn’t enough.

A boom erupted overhead and a flash lit up the sky. A ship descended, dropping at what seemed to be thousands of miles per hour, then stopping on a dime, hovering a few inches off the ground a bit in front of her, taking the brunt of Kelhoon fire.

It was a dropship. In fact, it was Fox’s dropship.

The ramp hissed and Fox jumped out, full striated-ebb nebula titanium exo-suit on, and a cannon hanging tightly from a strap around his shoulder. He pulled the trigger, letting the cannon blast expel, hit a target, then repeat.

A dome went up in flames, crystals and rocks splintered from it, a slight miss by Fox, but nonetheless it crumbled onto a Kelhoon who thought it wise to use it as cover.

Rivkah pulled herself forward, dragging herself just as another energy charge zipped into her foot, slashing her boot open, exposing blood and singed skin. She screamed in pain, cringing, biting down hard and hobbled on one foot until she made it to the ramp.

Another shot clipped her shoulder and spun her around, tossing her to the ground.

She felt a thump next to her. It was Fox, using his body and striated suit to deflect any shot directed at her. He slapped the cannon onto his back, magnetizing it in place. He picked her up, rushing her up the ramp and into the dropship. He shut the ramp, placed her on the bed, then strapped her in.

The ship shook from the oncoming fire, but its armor was thick. Fire from hand held weapons would do little damage, if any.

He sat at in his pilot’s seat. “Time to get you back to Flood of Dawn, Rivkah.”

The dropship lifted, then bolted forward, leaving the combat zone.

47

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Rivkah was back in Flood of Dawn, sitting in a healer’s room. A zap went through her thigh and she yelped, jerking back, slapping a device away from the healer’s hand.

The instrument hit the floor, bouncing up and down on the crystal tiling. To Rivkah’s untrained eye, the thing looked like a small spray gun.

The healer stepped back and glanced down at the medical instrument. She wiggled her hand from Rivkah’s sharp smack. “It’s fixed, Miss Rivkah Ravenwood.” She bowed and walked out of the small room and down a hall.

Rivkah moved her leg. “Holy shit.” It was better. Beyond better. How did they heal her so fast?

Right now it didn’t matter. She needed to find Bogle and fast. If Fox hadn’t saved her own ass, Rivkah would be splattered all over an East Rise street, much like Grenik.

A knock echoed in the room. It was Liberty. “We’ll be resting up and getting back to the front lines tomorrow.”

Who were we? Liberty hadn’t even come close to touching any front lines. Instead, she sat back in her luxury and monitored the battles. Saying you would have been more accurate.

“Bogle betrayed us.” Rivkah’s nose flared. “Let me find her.”

“She’s gone.”

“You can’t find her?”

Liberty shook her head. “No, and we don’t know why. It’s as if she just vanished.” She walked to Rivkah and sat on the medical table alongside her. She touched Rivkah’s upper back. Rivkah calmed and almost dropped to the floor in relaxation from Liberty’s soothing touch. “We rest up.” She stood and bowed, then exited the room.

“I guess that’s that.”

Rivkah was more than ready to kick butt and head into action and help push these Kelhoons off of Callisto, but apparently she wasn’t allowed—not yet.

“Tomorrow,” she told herself, remembering the young girl.

Boots clanked down the hall and Rivkah stood. She took a few steps toward the door to see who was coming.

Fox turned the corner, nearly bumping into her. “Whoa,” he said. “Watch it.”

Rivkah stepped back. “What are you doing here?” She needed to know why he came back and why the hell he was helping the Atlanteans, and most importantly, her.

“I do what I want and when I want.” He folded his arms over his chest.

“Nah, that’s not even close. Do I have to repeat myself to get the truth?”

“I’m here to right a wrong. A big wrong. Slade—”

A siren sounded and the crystalline walls that made up the room changed from beautiful translucent white to a dimmer glow.

Rivkah cocked her head to the side, pushing Fox out of the way. She dashed forward and out into the hall, seeing a mass of Atlanteans glaring up at the hallway walls, also wondering what the hell was going on.

Did the Kelhoons send a force to attack Flood of Dawn?

“Rivkah,” came a voice.

Rivkah spun on her heels. Liberty strode toward her and fast. “What is it?”

“We have to go. Jaxx changed his mind.” She continued down the hall, glancing over her shoulder. “Fox, we need you as well.”

“What do you mean—” Rikvah stopped mid-sentence as Liberty rounded a corner, disappearing from view. She turned, staring at Fox. “Looks like we gotta go see what the hubbub is about.”

“What the hell did Jaxx do now?” Fox grunted, moving by Rivkah, marching down the hall where Liberty had gone.

Rivkah followed, her mind spinning. If Jaxx came back, then that meant…

Her heart fell. Yes, Jaxx was a pain in the ass, but he had become her pain in the ass, even though she would never admit it to the poor bastard’s face, and him coming back meant one thing—he returned to give his life for all the inhabitants of Callisto and to end a prophecy he was born to fulfill.

He wasn’t a wimp after all. He was a hero.

Yet, she didn’t want him to die. Not today. Not ever.

48

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Callisto

Jaxx hovered over Callisto. Whatever shields had blocked her mighty cities from view had been decimated. She was bare, smoking, vulnerable. He felt her pain, at the cellular level. If he left, he’d be the coward he’d always feared he was. If he stayed, he was dead meat. If it had just been him, he’d have stepped on the gas and been out of that quadrant and headed back for Earth, just as fast as his ship could carry him, but Rivkah was still down there. He could save her. He had one act left in him and it was the one that counted.

He turned the ship back towards the apex of the pyramid that had shot him out into space. As soon as he held the thought that he was to return, the light from the pyramid swallowed him whole. The bolt filled him from his crown to his soles, activating DNA he didn’t know existed.

He passed through the King’s Sarcophagus and deposited his body on the stone table that graced the center of the chamber, deep inside the pyramid.

Rivkah stood over him, her face blank and unreadable.

Liberty guided her hand over Jaxx’s solar plexus, then took Fox’s hand and placed it over Rivkah’s.

“He must decide,” said Liberty. “Only he can activate the solution.”

Jaxx’s hand moved from his side and joined Fox and Rivkah’s.

“For you, Rivkah,” he said. “Always for you.”

He felt Rivkah’s hot tears on his bare chest.

He smiled and pressed down hard on the crystal that graced his sternum.

“What do you wish to do, Jaxx?” asked Liberty.

“Eliminate all the Kelhoons from Callisto.”

“Then it’s done.”

It started as a single wave, but built so fast he was tripping through the stars and catapulting around the galaxy, the songs of all his people pouring through his brain. He was part of The Law of One. He was Kaden Jaxx, eradicator of all Evil. He was loved and held.

He was the answer to Callisto’s prayers.

49

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Callisto

Rivkah leaped back, staring at where Jaxx had been. He disappeared before her eyes.

Fox put his hands out. “Where in death’s name did that guy go?” He turned and glared at Liberty with gritted teeth.

Rivkah took a step forward, wiping the watery mess from her eyes. Embarrassing, how could she let something like this affect her? Jaxx came back to save them all, and he did. Now he’s gone. Dead.

She fell to her knees, grabbing at her heart, and sobbed. Why did she have to have these feelings, this sensibility, this pain? In spite of all her good intentions that piece of shit, Jaxx, had grown on her to the point that she couldn’t help but long for him, think of him, and worst yet, cry for him. And, of all things, he just surprised the ever-living hell out of her by giving his life to these people, to her, for their ultimate survival.

He was gone. Screw everyone else. No matter how much he bothered her and for so long, that bastard deserved another starfighter battle, another swing at someone’s face.

She wiped more tears from her eyes and nose, flinging the blubbering discharge on the floor. She grabbed her hair and screamed from her belly, a scream she held in since she was a child, since her dad first pushed her to the floor, and kicked her while she was down. She screamed again. Harder. The pyramid shivered. Dust fell from the ceiling.

And then silence.

She acted like a fool. She raised her shoulders and swallowed the last of her sobs. Her armor clamored. She’d almost forgotten she was wearing the Atlantean war attire.

She cleared her throat. She had to forget Jaxx. She had to fight every feeling she had for the son of a bitch who saved her one moment and screwed her over the next.

She wiped off her knees. Her voice cracked. “I don’t feel him anymore. He’s gone. Dead.” She shook out her hands in an effort to relax her body, hoping the initial shock of his disappearance would soon pass. In fact, she wanted to kick the crap out of the initial pain, throw it in the garbage, and burn it.

Liberty’s eyes widened. “XO Katherine Bogle didn’t bear witness to this. How did I let this happen?” She raced out of the chamber and down the steep tunnel.

Rivkah and Fox gave each other a look.

“Fox, what’s happening?” asked Rivkah.

“Don’t ask me, Riv. I’m going to find out.” He tipped his head to the side, gesturing for her to go down the tunnel first.

“That your idea of chivalry?” Rivkah’s lip curled. She did nothing to hide her derision. Fox was a steaming sack of dog doo and she didn’t care who knew it. She walked around the sarcophagus and into the shallow tunnel, inching her way down. Liberty was already gone and the sound of her quick feet pounded on the ground outside. She made it to the bottom of the tunnel and looked over her shoulder.

Fox was on her tail, having a hard time. He tripped and tumbled, his armor clanging like tin against rock, arms flailing. He tried and failed to stop himself from twisting and turning as he spilled out onto the ground.

Rivkah raised her eyebrow, giving Fox a glassy stare. “And you made it to Captain? How?”

“Oh, screw off.” He put his hand up for her to help him stand.

She snorted and reached for his hand.

He swatted it away.

“Classy, Fox.” She turned her attention to the distant city, set deep in a crater and surrounded by a glass dome. Liberty ran toward the city.

“She’s headed towards Flood of Dawn,” said Rivkah. “Why is she freaking out?”

Fox swatted his pants. Small poofs of dust escaped at every swipe. “I don’t know. Don’t care.” He took several steps toward the city. “You coming along or do I have to carry you?”

Rivkah shook her head. “Keep going.” She took a seat on the cold, dusty ground and grabbed a handful of dirt. She let it fall through her fingertips.

“All right. Suit yourself.”

She watched Fox walk away. A smile touched her face. “So, Jaxx, this is what love is?” Her heart was numb and split in two. She eyed the sky. “You gave your life for ours and for people you barely knew.” She laughed. “I guess, deep down, you were a damn good man. And I guess I did, in some screwed up way, love you.”

She shifted. “And, don’t worry. Eventually I’ll forgive you. I love you, so I guess I’ll take that next step and erase whatever negative shit you’ve done to me.” She dropped her eyes to the ground. “Though I’ll never see you again, I think we had a good run.”

She winked, picturing Jaxx looking down on her. Another tear exited her eye. “I mean, look what you do to me? I’m a poor sap now.” She didn’t wipe her tear. She’d let it slide down as long as she could to savor this memory, the one where Jaxx helped her as much as he helped the rest of the Callisto’s inhabitants. She snorted another laugh and pushed herself up and walked toward the domed city. “I’ll see you when I see you, Jaxx. I’ll see you when I see you.”

Epilogue

Kaden Jaxx lay on a granite table in the middle of a pyramid. A sharp wave of hot energy shot through him. His chest lifted violently toward the ceiling, his back arcing away from the stone table, his body shaking. A flash of light singed his vision and penetrated his cells, widening them, expanding them. He slowly drifted, his hands and feet tingling, his spine firing signals to every area of his body, activating latent DNA. With a distinctive click, he was connected to the pyramid and a vast network opened up like a map before him, golden beams connecting planet to planet, pyramid to pyramid. Its lines created a sacred torus—the geometric seed of all life, the primal shape of all DNA.

Then, for a fleeting, terrifying second—in which he doubted his choice, doubted whether dying to save a world, a people, his one true love, was the right move—absolute darkness.

Out of that darkness, a star appeared. Then another and another. He was in space. The harmonious chimes and songs from invisible angels surrounded him.

Wasn’t space supposed to be a vacuum without sound?

Not today.

He flung forward at a ridiculous pace, passing through the solar system, bypassing planets and moons he’d never known existed, speeding on a stream of light pulling him along like a surfer on a mammoth lauloa, the mystic Hawaiian wave that never ended.

Until it did.

He landed on something hard, strong, and unbreakable, then bounced and shuddered to a stop.

He gasped for air as if emerging from under water for too long. He pushed himself up, his hands behind him, propping his body in place. His heart pounded and his eyes darted around, taking in his new surroundings.

He blinked. Where the hell am I?

He was in another pyramid, this one with white walls, less polished. No one was in the room but him.

He blinked several more times. He was in a new place—on another center stone in another pyramid.

He hopped off the stone, his boots landing on the hard, granite floor. He backed away and butted against a wall. A breeze drifted across the front of his body, bringing the scent of nature; trees, flowers, wheat.

Wheat?

He glanced over the rock slab lying on top of the sarcophagus. He didn’t know if he was dreaming or dead. If this was death, it was a damn sight livelier than he’d expected. But he had to keep moving. There was something he was supposed to do. A tunnel descended on the other side. His exit.

“Hello?” his voice echoed off the walls.

The ground rumbled.

He walked toward the tunnel, bracing himself against the center stone as the ground shook a second time. Did he hear an explosion? He crouched, ducking under the shallow frame that made up the tunnel’s entrance, and headed down, hoping to reach the outside—wherever and whatever outside was.

“Hello?” he called again.

No reply.

Karoooooj!

The tunnel vibrated and Jaxx slipped, landing on his rear, then slid down the passageway. He pointed his boots outward to catch him when he hit the ground.

He stepped through the opening and out of the pyramid. A village with white huts, made from a shimmering material; fields of wheat-like grain, tall as corn stalks, were laid out in front of him and went on for miles. A massive pyramid hovered twenty feet or so above the ground and spun in the distance. A red light blinked at its apex.

“Where the heck am I?” He turned and gazed up at the pyramid he’d exited. The capstone was golden and gleamed brilliantly under the two suns—one sun blueish-white, the other yellow-white, together casting a yellow-blue that suffused the air.

His mind raced, searching for answers. This must be the afterlife.

He stepped back, glancing around, his body heat rising from the humidity.

A hiss echoed across the land, loud and far away. He glanced in the sound’s direction. A pyramid was lifting off the ground, a sandy cloud curling beneath it. The pyramid spun and hovered twenty or thirty feet, its golden apex changing to a blinking red.

He frowned, his jaw dropping. He’d never witnessed a freaking pyramid hover, let alone lift off the ground and off its foundation. Who had? What was it doing? Were rocket boosters going to unfold from the bottom and propel it off the planet?

He scanned the area, desperate to find who in God’s name was controlling that thing.

Jaxx jumped back at a deafening, unearthly sound, the ground trembling. Again, his mouth fell slack, this time in horror. Large black combat-mechs with their thick, monstrous torsos and arms, giant legs, and fire billowing out of their feet, were entering the planet’s atmosphere, leaving a smoky trail behind them.

Jaxx spun, eyes wide, and ran toward a wheat field, the stalks taller than him, something he wasn’t used to. Wheat never grew this tall on Earth.

His heart raced and his feet took him as fast as he could go. As Jaxx barreled through the tall grains, the sounds of more combat-mechs filled the air, the ground shaking under his feet.

He skidded to a halt. Surrounded by the long, thick wiry grasses, Jaxx observed that their tan color matched the terrain he stood upon. He didn’t know how long he had run or how far, but he was lost in the sea of stalks.

A crunch then another crunch. The steps came closer, the wheat jostling as someone or something made its way toward Jaxx.

Another combat-mech ripped through the sky.

The footsteps stopped. The wheat’s movements ceased.

Something touched Jaxx’s sacrum and quickly ran up his spine, making his back tingle. He spun, staggered, feet planted slightly wider than his hips, ensuring his body’s weight was distributed fifty-fifty on each foot, ready for the coming fight. He brought one elbow and forearm close to his body, protecting his solar plexus, liver, and ribs, his hand in a fist. He brought the other fist close to his face, positioned near his jaw.

No one was there.

He closed his eyes, observing the energy field around him. A Being was a few feet away, hidden in the vast field of wheat.

Jaxx opened his eyes. His boots were caked in dirt and whisks of grain. He dropped his arms by his side and straightened himself. “Why don’t I fear you?”

The wheat rustled. A Being in a brown robe, a hood covering his head and face, stepped forward and came into view. The man was a good six feet taller than Jaxx and twice as wide.

Jaxx stepped back in disbelief, shock pounding his core.

The Being dipped his head. “You know me, Jaxx.” The voice was low, almost a growl, but pleasant and welcoming, like a wise, old man.

“Where am I?” said Jaxx.

Another loud noise erupted in the sky, more mechs on their way to do God-knows-what.

“You’re on Leonia, near the Dog Star, also known to you as Sirius, 57.3 stars of celestial navigation away from your Earth. We’re in the constellation Canis Major within the Galactic Arm of our Milky Way. My people are energetically attached to a pyramid network grid, connecting many planets. The pyramid network has been closed since the ancient days. You’ve opened it back up. The network was closed for a reason, Jaxx. Of all people, you should have known this.”

Jaxx pointed to his chest, his heart pulsing, his mind opened to the pyramid network spanning from planet to planet, galactic arm to galactic arm. A thought packet entered his mind or a memory. He didn’t know which, but it revealed an issue that not only plagued him, it plagued everyone on Callisto. And apparently now plagued the entire pyramid network. “The hieroglyphs and scrolls on Callisto mentioned that I was the Atlantean’s savior. Yet, I missed a step, and so did my friends. A very important individual was supposed to be present during my ascension to another plane, a plane that would halt all negatives on Callisto to usher in a bright new age upon that moon. Katherine Bogle wasn’t there. That was a mistake, a missing ingredient in the primordial soup. I opened up the network, yes. However, the missing ingredient would have created a secure opening within the pyramid network. Without Bogle, I opened up what could be considered the gates of hell.”

The old man dipped his head. “Ah, the gates of hell you say?” He gave a hearty laugh. “Not possible. There’s neither a good or bad with this, only how you individually perceive the moment.”

Jaxx shrugged and took his eyes off of the old man and looked toward the sky. Combat-mechs were falling fast, and more were coming in. A ship crested the horizon, just above the exosphere. It was bigger than any ship he’d ever seen, including the Secret Space Program Star Carriers. “How should I perceive this?”

The old man bowed, uncovering his hood, revealing a lion’s face, huge purple eyes, a yellow mane, and a serious expression. “I’d suggest you run.”

Colony Atlantis

Ascendant Saga Book 3

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Starfighter: Freedom Star Book 1

1

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Kaden Jaxx lay on a granite table in the middle of a pyramid. A sharp wave of energy shot through him. His chest lifted violently toward the ceiling, his back arcing away from the stone table, his body shaking. A flash of light singed his vision and penetrated his cells, widening them, expanding them. He slowly drifted upward, his body now too light for Callisto’s gravity, his hands and feet tingling, his spine firing signals to every area of his body, activating latent DNA. With a distinctive click, he was connected to the pyramid and a vast network opened up like a map before him, golden beams connecting planet to planet, pyramid to pyramid. Its lines created a sacred torus – the geometric seed of all life, the primal shape of all DNA.

Then, for a fleeting, terrifying second – in which he doubted his choice, doubted whether dying to save a world, a people, his one true love, was the right move – absolute darkness.

Out of that darkness, a star appeared. Then another and another. He was in space. The harmonious chimes and songs from invisible angels surrounded him.

Wasn’t space supposed to be a vacuum without sound?

Not today.

He was flung forward and toward the pyramid’s top capstone and out of the atmosphere, moving at a ridiculous pace, passing through the solar system, bypassing planets and moons he’d never known existed, speeding on a stream of light pulling him along like a surfer on a mammoth lauloa, the mystic Hawaiian wave that never ends.

Until it did.

He landed on something hard, strong, and unbreakable, then bounced and shuddered to a stop.

He gasped for air as if emerging from being under water for too long. He pushed himself up, his hands behind him, propping his body in place. His heart pounded and his eyes darted around, taking in his new surroundings.

He blinked. Where the hell am I?

He was in another pyramid, this one with white walls, less polished. No one was in the room but him.

Moments ago, Jaxx had laid on a warm stone in the center of Flood of Dawn’s great pyramid chamber, his eyes meeting Rivkah’s. Two tears streamed down her cheek and dripped onto his chest. She’d bared herself to him and that was all Jaxx had needed to take the next step.

Moments ago, he had smiled, touching the crystal on his sternum, his other hand already on top of her’s and Fox’s. Jaxx’s stomach was tight. How many more breaths before his life would be taken from him, from Rivkah, only to be motionless, lifeless, a corpse for others to stare at? Where would he be next? Was there an afterlife? Was he truly the prophesied savior?

And again, just moments ago, he had been on a moon called Callisto with an entire civilization which, in his countless years of pyramid research and Atlantean hieroglyphic studies, he’d thought only existed in his dreams. And yet, there they were and there he was. It was his fate, his calling, his privilege to die for them. Die for a race that had captivated his heart for years.

Death had faced him and he had faced death.

Atlantis Alta – the Atlantean name for Callisto – had needed him. Rivkah had needed him. And he rose to the occasion.

His pineal gland took over, his third eye opening. Through it, he saw the energy of everything in the pyramid he had just left: hearts beating rapidly in every Atlantean’s chest, more nervous than he was; rays streaming in from Jupiter’s light through a small hole in the pyramid’s apex; Liberty, the Queen of Flood of Dawn, was aglow, light pouring out of her skin, creating an aura of rainbows; and Rivkah and Fox channeling an energy he’d never experienced before, still rushing through their hands even though he was gone.

He blinked several more times. He was in a new place – on another center stone in another pyramid.

He twisted off the center stone, his boots landing on the hard, granite floor. He backed away, his hands up and butted against a wall. A breeze drifted across the front of his body, bringing the scent of nature – trees, flowers, wheat.

Wheat?

He glanced over the rock slab lying on top of the sarcophagus. He didn’t know if he was dreaming or dead. If this was death, it was a damn sight livelier than he’d expected. Got to keep moving. There was something he was supposed to do. A tunnel descended on the other side of the sarcophagus – his exit.

“Hello?” his voice echoed off the walls.

Karoooooj! Karoooooj!

The ground trembled and a sound erupted, penetrating the room. It came from outside.

He walked toward the tunnel, bracing himself against the center stone as the ground shook a second time. More explosive resonance shattered across the chamber. He crouched, ducking under the shallow frame that made up the tunnel’s entrance, and headed down, hoping to reach the outside – wherever and whatever outside was.

“Hello?” he called out again.

No reply.

Karoooooj!

The tunnel vibrated and Jaxx slipped, landing on his rear end, then slid down the passageway, pointing his boots out to catch him when he hit the ground.

Karoooooj!

He stepped through the opening and out of the pyramid, a bright yellowish-blue light shone everywhere. A village of white huts, made from a shimmering material; fields of wheat-like grain, tall as corn stalks, were laid out in front of him and went on for miles. A massive pyramid hovered twenty feet or so above the ground and spun in the distance, a red light blinking at its apex.

“Where the heck am I?” He turned and gazed up at the white pyramid he’d just exited. His pyramid’s capstone was golden and gleamed brilliantly under the two suns – one sun blueish-white, the other yellow-white, together casting a yellow-blue hue that suffused the air.

His mind raced, searching for answers. This must be the afterlife.

He stepped back, glancing around, his body heat rising from the humidity.

A hiss echoed across the land, loud and far away. He glanced in the sound’s direction. A pyramid was lifting off the ground, a sandy cloud curling beneath it. The pyramid spun and hovered twenty or thirty feet off the ground, its golden apex changing to a blinking red light.

He frowned, his jaw dropping. He’d never witnessed a freaking pyramid hover, let alone lift off the ground and off its foundation by even an inch. Who had? What was it doing? Were rocket boosters going to unfold from the bottom and propel it out of the exosphere?

He scanned the area, desperate to find who in God’s name was controlling that thing.

Karoooooj!

Jaxx jumped back at the deafening, unearthly sound, the ground rumbling. He looked towards the new noise. Again, his mouth fell slack, this time in horror, rather than awe. Large black combat-mechs with their thick, monstrous torsos and arms, giant legs, twin barrel cannons on their shoulders, and fire billowing out of their feet, were entering the planet’s atmosphere, leaving a smoky trail behind them.

Jaxx spun, eyes wide, and ran toward a wheat field, the stalks taller than him, something he wasn’t used to. Wheat never grew this tall on Earth.

His heart racing, his feet taking him as fast as he could go, Jaxx barreled through the tall grains, the sounds of more combat-mechs filling the air, the ground trembling under his feet.

His breaths came fast, his arms pumping up and down, his shoulders slamming against the hard wheat, granules splashing across his face and body.

He stopped, surrounded by the long, thick wiry grasses, their tan color matching the terrain. He didn’t know how long he had run or how far, but he was surrounded, lost in the sea of heavy stalks.

A crunch – the sound of someone stepping through the field. Then another crunch. Then another. The steps came closer, the wheat shaking as someone or something made its way toward Jaxx.

Another combat-mech ripped through the sky.

The footsteps stopped. The wheat’s movements ceased.

Something touched Jaxx’s sacrum and quickly ran up his spine, making his back tingle. He spun, staggered, feet planted slightly wider than his hips, ensuring his body’s weight was distributed fifty-fifty on each foot, ready for the coming fight. He brought one elbow and forearm close to his body, protecting his solar plexus, liver, and ribs, his hand in a fist. He brought the other fist close to his face, positioned on his jaw.

But no one was there.

He closed his eyes, observing the energy field around him. A Being was a few feet away, hidden in the vast field of stalks.

Jaxx opened his eyes, his boots were caked in dirt and whisks of grain. He dropped his arms by his side and straightened himself up. “Why don’t I fear you?”

The wheat rustled. A Being in a brown robe, a hood covering his head and face, stepped forward and came into view. The man was a good six feet taller than Jaxx and twice as wide, and reached just under the tip of the wheat stalks.

Jaxx stepped back in disbelief, shock pounding his core.

The Being dipped his head. “You know me, Jaxx.” The voice was low, almost a growl, but pleasant and welcoming, like a wise, old man.

“Where am I?” said Jaxx.

Another loud noise erupted in the sky, more combat-mechs on their way to do God-knows-what.

“You’re on Leonia, near the Dog Star, also known to you as Sirius, 57.3 stars of celestial navigation away from your Earth. We are in the constellation Canis Major within the Galactic Arm of our Milky Way. My people are energetically attached to a pyramid network grid, connecting many planets. The pyramid network has been closed since the ancient days. You’ve opened it back up. The network was closed for a reason, Jaxx. Of all people, you should have known this.”

Jaxx pointed to his chest, his heart pulsing, his mind opened to the pyramid network spanning from planet to planet, galactic arm to galactic arm. A wind swirled around him and he took in a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. An orb of energy shot down from the heavens and penetrated him, downloading information into his body and mind, through his DNA, unwrapping more strands. “There is more to it, wise one. The hieroglyphs and scrolls on Callisto mentioned that I was the Atlantean’s savior. Yet, I missed a step, and so did my friends. A very important individual was supposed to be present during my ascension to another plane, a plane that would halt all negatives on Callisto to usher in a bright new age upon that moon. Captain Katherine Bogle wasn’t there. That was a mistake, a missing ingredient in the primordial soup. I opened up the network, yes. However, the missing ingredient would have created a secure opening within the pyramid network. Without Bogle, I opened up what could be considered the gates of hell.”

The old man dipped his head. “Ah, the gates of hell you say?” He gave a hearty laugh. “Not possible. There is neither a good or bad with this, only how you individually perceive the moment.”

Jaxx shrugged, took his eyes off of the old man and looked toward the sky. Combat-mechs were falling fast, and more were coming in. A ship crested the horizon, just above the exosphere. It was bigger than any ship he’d ever seen, including the Secret Space Program Star Carriers. “How should I perceive this?”

The old man bowed, uncovering his hood, revealing a lion’s face, huge purple eyes, a yellow mane, and a serious expression. “I’d suggest you run.”

2

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Rivkah leaped back, staring at where Jaxx had just been. He had disappeared right before her eyes.

Fox put his hands out. “Where the fuck did that guy go?” He turned, glaring at Liberty, gritting his teeth.

Rivkah took a step forward, wiping the mess from her eyes. Embarrassing, how could she let something like this affect her? Jaxx came back to save them all, and he did. Now he’s gone. Dead.

She fell to her knees, grabbing at her heart, and sobbed. Why did she have to have these feelings, this sensibility, this pain? In spite of all her good intentions that piece of shit, Jaxx, had grown on her to the point that she couldn’t help but long for him, think of him, and worst yet, cry for him. And, of all things, he just surprised the ever-living hell out of her by giving his life to these people, to her, for their ultimate survival.

Yet, he was gone. And no matter how much he bothered her and for so long, that bastard deserved another starfighter battle, another swing at someone’s face.

She wiped more tears from her eyes and nose, flinging the blubbering discharge on the floor. She grabbed her hair and screamed from her belly, a scream she held in since she was a child, since her dad first pushed her down and pulled off her pants. She screamed again. Harder. The pyramid shivered, dust falling from the ceiling and on top of her.

And then silence.

She was acting like a fool. She raised her shoulders and swallowed the last of her sobs. Her armor clamored. She’d almost forgotten she was wearing the Atlantean war attire.

She cleared her throat. She had to forget Jaxx. She had to fight every feeling she had for the son of a bitch who saved her one moment and screwed her over the next.

She wiped off her knees. Her voice cracked. “I don’t feel him anymore. He’s gone. Dead.” She shook out her hands in an effort to relax her body, hoping the initial shock of his disappearance would soon pass. In fact, she wanted to kick the shit out of the initial pain, throw it in the garbage, and burn it.

Liberty’s eyes widened, and Rivkah could see fear enveloping her. “Where is Captain Katherine Bogle? She did not bear witness to this? How did I let this happen?” She raced out of the chamber and down the steep tunnel.

Rivkah and Fox gave each other a look.

“Fox, what’s happening?” asked Rivkah.

“Don’t ask me something you know I don’t know, Riv. I’m going to find out.” He tipped his head to the side, gesturing for her to go down the tunnel first.

“That your idea of chivalry?” Rivkah’s lip curled. She did nothing to hide her derision. Fox was a steaming sack of crap and he didn’t care who knew it. She walked around the sarcophagus and into the shallow tunnel, inching her way down the descending grade. Liberty was already gone and the sound of her quick feet pounded on the ground outside. She made it to the bottom of the tunnel and looked over her shoulder.

Fox was on Rivkah’s tail, having a hard time, tumbling, his armor clanging like tin against rock, arms flailing. He tried and failed to stop himself from twisting and turning as he spilled out onto the ground.

Rivkah raised her eyebrow, giving Fox a glassy stare. “And you made it to Captain? How?”

“Oh, bug off.” He put his hand up for her to help him up.

She snorted and reached for his hand.

He swatted it away.

“Classy, Fox.” She turned her attention to the distant city, set deep in a crater and surrounded by a glass dome. The landscape was dotted with trees much like the blue atlas cedars back home, except their needles were tinged with blue, pink, and orange. Right alongside the evergreen-look-alikes were palm trees bearing orange fruit the size of watermelons. Yellow ferns sat atop hills. Waterfalls cascaded down the rocky hillsides, and cathedral-like palaces dotted the highest terrain in the city, almost overshadowed by the tree houses spread out everywhere, connected by a plexus of bridges.

Liberty was running toward the city.

“She’s headed towards Flood of Dawn,” said Rivkah. “Why is she freaking out?”

Fox swatted his pants and small poofs of dust escaped at every swipe.

The ground trembled and a gale-force wind lifted them up, slammed them to the ground, then pushed them head over heels away from the pyramid.

Violent, angry reds and yellows glowed upon the vista.

A cloud appeared to the east and mushroomed towards the heavens, beautiful but deadly.

Rivkah scrambled to her feet. “What the hell is happening? I thought we ended this. No more war. Especially no freaking nuclear war. I thought Jaxx’s death –” She fought the urge to scream. She had to get a hold of herself, to pry herself free from Jaxx. “We shouldn’t be having a war. He gave his life to end it.”

Fox clapped, perhaps to get her attention, perhaps in a show of bravado or machismo. He was annoying as all fuck. “Stop should-ing all over yourself,” he said. “Military life doesn’t have any shoulds, coulds, or woulds. Liberty just killed a Secret Space Program asset that the SSP very much needed. These Atlantean nutjobs know exactly what they’re doing. They’re looking to sabotage the SSP. We need to warn our people…”

Rivkah dashed toward Liberty. Liberty would know what to do. She was from Callisto. This was her home. She’d set them straight.

Fox followed.

“Liberty.” Rivkah was almost hoarse from shouting after the disappearing Atlantean, but the woman was fast and there was no gaining on her, no stopping her.

Finally, they passed through the doorway to the city. The horror of the mushroom cloud fell away and Flood of Dawn became a place of calm and ease for her again. The air was sweet, fresh, fragrant; even the oxygen was richer, more satisfying; Rivkah could feel the difference with her first breath. The door to the city shut behind them and they were enveloped in silence. Rivkah and Fox followed a path through a small wood. Birds, all purples, glowing greens, and sparkling silvers, called, “Nooo-ey Nooo-ey,” as they flew from tree top to tree top.

Flood of Dawn was designed to soothe the senses, but she couldn’t allow herself to fall into a beauty-stupor. She needed to hold on to her anger, her alarm, her sense that something awful had just happened on her watch. She waved Fox forward, her voice low and urgent. “Come on.”

“I do my own bidding, woman. If you want to catch her, then move it. To me, she is a traitor, just like Jaxx was. And, I say was. I have a new man in my sights, more treacherous than my...brother.” He rolled his eyes at his last word.

Rivkah imagined that Fox was probably thinking how could Jaxx truly be his brother. It sounded odd to her ears, as well.

The thought was ridiculous, but more than words – her feelings, these new powers surging through her – were telling her that it indeed was true. Jaxx and Fox were brothers, through and through.

Rivkah picked up her pace, leaving Fox behind. Whatever or whoever this new man was that Fox had in his sights could be explained later.

The cobblestone path opened up, widening as the forest ended. A palace was before her, crystalline in nature, like all the structures in Flood of Dawn.

Liberty was standing at the palace’s entrance, her long dress ruffling in the breeze. She was vocal, gesticulating fiercely, as she talked with one of her army commanders. She was confused, angry. Something Rivkah hadn’t seen from her in the short time she’d known her.

“Liberty,” Rivkah yelled. “What is going on?” She took long, confident strides toward the couple, readying herself for any attack, just in case she was being wronged in some way, something she was used to.

Liberty motioned for the commander to enter the palace, turned, and walked toward Rivkah, stopping a few steps in front of her. “Why didn’t you remind me?”

“Remind you about what?”

“About Captain Katherine Bogle. As you know, she left us. We can’t locate her. Yet, I forgot. You forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Rivkah wanted to pound her in the face to just get it out.

Liberty crossed her arms at her chest. “You knew she was named in the prophecy. She was a major player in that prophecy.”

Rivkah put her hands out, palms up, begging for an explanation. “So? Spill it!”

Liberty’s stance widened and she put her fists on her hips. “She wasn’t in the vicinity, Rivkah. According to the prophecies, Bogle was supposed to be with us during Jaxx’s final ascension. Jaxx did indeed leave us us, but did not die, which is why the war is still happening. All Negatives are inbound and heading our way.”

A spark lit in Rivkah’s heart. Jaxx was alive? Her chin trembled, but she held it together. If she could jump up in relief, she would, but for some strange reason, this woman in front of her was like Fox and seemingly couldn’t care less about Jaxx being dead or alive.

“Death is nothing to fear. It’s moving from one vehicle to the next, only to enter another vehicle in time. There is no pain. It is all love,” said Liberty, as if responding to Rivkah’s thoughts. “I love Jaxx as if he were my own. Our bodies are priceless and I do not take what Jaxx attempted to do – give himself for the benefit of the rest – lightly.”

It was Rivkah’s turn to widen her stance and place her hands on her hips. “Where is he?”

Liberty closed her eyes, concentrating. When she opened them, her blue eyes were beaming. “I don’t know. I can’t locate him. I know Jaxx via his energy signature and he is a man who will be back. He will attempt the other path to save us, to save humankind.”

“To save humankind?”

“Yes. Humanity is in danger, as well, including all Postive Beings in the galaxy. But we must find Bogle. She is one of the keys.”

Rivkah huffed. “She tried to kill me. She killed Morning Star.”

Liberty lurched back, clutching her chest. “She was the one who killed Morning Star? I thought —”

“Well, not necessary killed him, but purposely led us to slaughter.”

Liberty narrowed her eyes. “Dakin!”

A saber-tooth tiger stepped around a large brush, snarling and padding over to Liberty. He nudged her back with his cheek and gave a ferocious growl.

Rivkah jerked her head, getting into her signature Muay Thai fighting position, as if that could possibly fend the giant cat off when it attacked.

Liberty tapped the tiger’s head and he lowered into a crouch, licking her hand. She jumped on his back. “My weapon.” She put her arm out and a man emerged from the palace, a long trident in his hand. The man threw the trident at Liberty. She caught it, never taking her eyes off of Rivkah.

She dipped her head. “Go find Bogle. I’m raring to lead a charge.” She looked over her shoulder. “Warriors, today we continue this fight!”

On cue, warriors in the hundreds ran out of the palace.

Liberty flicked her feet against the tiger’s sides. It leapt forward, running in the direction Rivkah had just come. The warriors ran around Rivkah, roaring and bellowing like beasts, a dozen or more whizzing on by in battle hovercrafts, ion cannons mounted on the hoods.

“What just happened?” asked Fox, coming up to Rivkah.

The warriors streamed past them and into the forest.

“We have to find Bogle.”

“What?” whined Fox.

“Follow me. I know of a craft we can use. She needs to be with us to fulfill the prophecy when, or if, Jaxx comes back. We must keep Bogle alive.”

3

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

Two Chinese guards stood next to Anderle, an entourage crowding the corridor behind him.

In the time it had taken for the entire US Government and Administration to vacate the planet, Anderle had morphed from one of the world’s leading cyber-geeks into something resembling a president…or leader…or…

Drew wasn’t sure what, but the guy was defo in charge. In the old days when Drew was a crack journalist, hunting for the truth, Michael Anderle’s rise to power would have been the perfect expose. Economic collapse, rioting, food shortages, and global panic made Anderle’s story a blip on the radar. Drew was a day late and a dollar short. No one cared what Anderle was doing or how he’d risen to power; they cared about where their next meal was coming from.

“Get your damn hands off of me,” growled Drew, his face flush red. He batted the Chinese guard’s hand away, unraveling his shirt where the guard’s hand had twisted it. The guard pushed him into a room, Mya right behind him.

Mya hid behind Drew’s legs, grabbing on tightly.

She was scared.

So was Drew. He had been practically guided to come here, to this underground facility – if you can call your dead mother a “guide” – and he was treated like this?

“Where’s Anderle,” Drew asked one of the guards standing in the doorway.

The guard merely grunted.

“Right here, buddy.” The guards parted and Anderle walked in, a king among kings. “Relax, my friend. It’s just protocol. You’re safe. These Chinese military men are a little suspicious. Once they sniff that you’re good and all, you’ll be treated like a prince.” Anderle smiled. “Meet my friend, General Lin Yu.” Anderle looked like the proverbial cat with the proverbial cream. Was he totally nuts? This was an underground fucking prison. Drew could see no windows, no side doors, no way of escape except through the meat, muscle, and machetes of the standing guard.

General Lin Yu pushed his way through his men and stood, bow legged but no less daunting, in front of Drew. He pointed to the girl. “Ràng wǒ xiànzài yǒngyǒu tā.”

Anderle snorted. “Now? Bad idea. So…let me think. Uh…no.”

“What did he say?” Drew held Mya close.

Anderle dismissed Drew’s question with a swat of his hand. “Don’t worry. He –”

Yu jumped forward, pushing Drew aside. The guards followed their general’s example, shoving Drew onto the floor. Mya hurried backward just as Drew threw a right hook from his position on the ground, smacking a guard’s face square on the nose. A pop of bones and the man fell to the side. One of the guards elbowed Drew across the chest and another sunk a hard boot into his gut.

Drew went into fetal position, holding his stomach, and unable to talk while piles of questions swarmed around his brain, making less and less sense as they piled on top of each other. What was Anderle up to? Why was the Chinese General acting like this? Did they want Mya for some reason or another?

Mya!

He had to get his shit together. He couldn’t let them take her. He felt responsible for leading her mother and brother to their deaths. He wouldn’t let that happen to Mya.

A guard had his hands on the little girl. Drew lifted his knee, in spite of the pain, and tripped the guard. The soldier collapsed, his head whipping into a bed frame post. His cranium cracked, good and loud, and the man went down, holding his eye, rolling on the floor.

A clack of rifles and Drew looked up, struggling to breathe, holding his side. Grunts were pointing their rifles at him and General Lin Yu loomed, arms crossed at his chest.

“Stop that at once,” yelled Anderle, like a father to his children. He stepped over Drew, but stopped mid-stride, a foot on each side of him. Straddling his friend sent an unequivocal message: this specimen is mine. Lesser of two evils? Maybe. Drew fought the urge to vomit on Anderle’s Converse.

“General Lin Yu. You need to be patient with the girl. She –”

“Zhàn qǐlái bóhuí!” ordered Yu. The guards put down their rifles and marched out of the room. Yu, not taking his eyes off of Mya, reached out and grabbed a guard holding his nose, blood streaming down his lips and chin. “Bǎochí jǐngtì.”

The guard nodded and sat on a stool butted against the wall near the entrance.

“You want that guy to stand guard?” Anderle’s eyes were wide, perplexed. “He’s got a broken nose, man.”

Yu turned, walking out of the room.

Drew sat, rubbing his chest. “What the hell, Anderle?” He glanced behind him. Mya was crouched in a corner, eyes closed, shaking, crying.

Anderle held out his arms, as if to hug her or some shit. Like that was going to happen. “Get your hands off of her,” Drew hurried over, picking her up, and sat on the bed. She sobbed in his arms, calling for her mommy.

Drew rocked her. Mommy wasn’t here. And never would be again. He couldn’t find the words. Mommy died, mowed down by gun fire, in a holy-fuck car dealership of all places. He’d hidden the truth from Mya as they drove across the country, searching for safe haven. The world was no place for a little girl. Not with the riots and looting, the food shortages and murder. He’d brought her to Lookout Mountain in hopes his old pal Anderle would have some answers. Seemed he’d miscalculated. He gave Anderle a nasty look. “What gives?”

Anderle used the hem of his shirt to wipe the soldier’s blood from the bed post. “You’ll be briefed in the morning.” His Converse soles squeaked on the tile floor as he made his exit.

The guard in the corner sniffed. He had his hand over his nose, blood streaking down his forearm. He stared at Drew, through his tears. Drew knew the look. The tears weren’t from sadness or pain. His mom had always told him, “Short, sharp jab to the nose. Always makes them tear up…and if they tear up in front of their buddies, you’ve already won.”

Drew didn’t feel much like a winner.

Mya wiped her cheeks with her forearm. “I can help.” She must have been watching him watch the guard and mistaken his smile for concern. Drew tightened his grip around her.

She shook her head. “Please?”

“I don’t think so. You stay put.”

“Trust her, Drew.”

Drew jerked to attention. Dammit, mom. He was hearing her again, even though he hadn’t smoked a dime bag. Maybe he should have laid off that stuff sooner. The shit was messing with his brain. He didn’t need a dead woman calling the shots. He needed a clear head and a plan.

“Let her go, Drew. Trust her.” He knew that tone. Mom was getting ready to clip him around the ear and give him some serious grief. He eased his hold on Mya.

Mya pushed out of his arms and cautiously walked toward the grunt.

The soldier cocked his head to the side, eyeing her like a prisoner. “Liú xiàlái,” he demanded, his voice muffled by his hand.

She stopped. “Please? You have an owie. My mom had an owie, too, but she’s not here so I can’t help her.”

The guard lifted his rifle with one hand and jabbed it toward her. “Liú xiàlái!”

Drew quickly stood. What was he thinking, listening to a voice in his head, let alone his mother who had faked her own dementia for over a decade. No way he was allowing a six-year old to walk up to a trained killer.

“Liú xiàlái.” The grunt stood, pointing his rifle at Drew.

Drew held up both hands in what he hoped was the universal sign for surrender. “I just want to get Mya, that’s all.”

The grunt shook his head. “Méiyǒu.”

Drew froze in place. Was that good or bad? Why hadn’t he learned Chinese, instead of Russian? He had no clue whether the guy was giving a final warning or giving up.

The soldier dropped his gun. It clattered on the floor. His eyes glazed over. He sunk to the stool, his hand dropping from his crooked, broken nose, his mouth open, arms by his side as if in a trance.

Mya had her hand on his knee. She brought her hands up and grabbed both of his cheeks and closed her eyes.

The blood stopped dripping. The nose cracked, adjusting itself, straightening.

Drew took a step forward. One moment life was normal – other than wondering if he was a prisoner and if the world was about to end – and the next, a holy-shit soldier’s broken nose healed right in front of his eyes? What the hell was an understatement. The understatement of the world.

Mya put her hands together and closed her eyes again. She opened them, simultaneously opening her hands. A white handkerchief fell to the floor. She picked it up and handed it to the man. He took it, wiping the blood off of his mouth. He brought his shoulder radio device close to his lips, keeping his eyes on Mya. “Tā yǒu mólì,” he blurted into the radio.

Drew took another step forward. “Mya, what did you just do? I mean, how –”

Her eyes rolled back into her head and she went listless, flopping to the floor.

* * *

The meals came, the empty plates left. With no windows and no clocks, it was only the slight variation in food that gave Drew any clue what time of day it was. Unless they were screwing with him and giving him Kung Po Beef for breakfast.

The guards escorted him through the compound, in spite of his vocal protest, and deposited him in what could only be described as a replica of the Oval Office. Anderle sat behind the massive, Presidential desk, his feet up. “This wasn’t my idea.” He handed Drew a stapled, crisp set of papers. “Just printed these out.”

Drew set the papers on the table. “You have Mya under twenty-four hour guard. There’s a damn Chinese guy in there with her now, eying her like she’s a God-damn POW.” He didn’t dare mention what else he saw, the Christ-like miracle that baffled him to no end and put Mya on the floor, conked out for hours.

Anderle hesitated, his eyes moving to the papers. He shrugged. “For her safety.”

Drew saw the lie in Anderle’s shifty eyes, before Anderle even opened his lying mouth. Plus, it was a bullshit answer. “What are you hiding?”

Anderle thumbed over his shoulder. “She’s not to leave that room. Not for one minute unless I, or General Lin Yu, give permission. Understand, Drew? And that’s that. Now, look at the documents, please.” He sighed, heavily. Good, meant he was exasperated. Drew wanted the asshole to be exasperated. He’d sold Drew down the river.

Drew scratched his cheek with his middle finger. Anderle didn’t catch the gesture. Drew fought the urge to smile. He glanced down at the papers on the table. “Alright, what is this?”

“Read it.”

Drew read it then closed his eyes while pinching the ridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb, his face pallid. “This is a script. If I don’t comply, you’ll kill Mya? I just saved her, man. She’s only six years old. She doesn’t even know her mother is dead. I told her we were looking for her father. You can’t do this to me…”

Anderle shrugged. “I can and I did.”

He took another glance at the script. “You want me to be your Katnis?”

Anderle nodded slowly, his eyes narrowed. “You like to read dystopia. Hunger Games is a good book to learn from because we’re heading into a dystopian world right now, unless we can stave it off.”

Drew caught his breath. He didn’t want to run his own dishwasher, let alone help run a country, especially if he was being used. “Shouldn’t we be focusing on defeating the invasion?” Drew motioned toward the general, who stood to attention by the door. “Jerkface over here won’t stop eyeing me like I’m going to slit his throat. Why have a Chinese general on site?” Drew dropped his voice. “They’re enemy combatants, Anderle. I know you like to play fast and loose with the rules, but this is nuts.”

Anderle stood straight, crossing his arms. “He’s harmless.” He pulled Drew close and whispered. “He’s here to help us kill his President and overtake the Chinese army. He’s leaked their plans to us. We know where they’re going to be and when. We’re the winningest team, ever.”

Drew had a sickening flashback to Charlotte, when he’d experienced a shitload of Chinese bullets singeing his ears and slamming into the people around him. He couldn’t shake the image of those United States Marines’ faces blown off, jets shot down, crashing into the city below. Felt like winning the same way drowning felt like swimming. “Where the hell are our allies?”

Anderle frowned. “No clue. Radio silence from NATO and the UN and everyone else who are supposed to protect the free-world. Canada is the only one helping us, but even that’s minimal. But what do you expect? They’re Canadian. It’s not like they can ‘polite’ the enemy to death.” Anderle laughed at his own joke, then sighed. “People trust you, Drew. You broke the biggest story in the history of the world. You’re viewed as the ultimate patriot. That’s how the New United States sees you. You knew those idiots were leaving the planet and instead of hitching a ride with them, you chose to ride it out with the rest of us.”

“How could I have possibly hitched a ride?”

Anderle nodded to a guard.

The guard walked to a desk and picked up a remote. He aimed the remote at the TV, clicking the power. The large TV blipped on, a black screen with the words, New United States News Network with the letters NUSNN were printed underneath. The guard handed Anderle the remote. Anderle’s entire affect changed. Gone was the loosey-goosey, laid-back coder. In his place was a version of Anderle that Drew had only seen a tiny glimmer of; an Anderle in charge. His body was rigid, military almost; his tone serious. “Play.” He dropped his arm by his side just as a scene appeared on the screen.

President Jefferson Kennedy’s hologram – which Anderle had successfully deployed as a cover, so he could run things from behind the scenes – stood in front of a projection screen. “We owe Drew Avera our lives.” The President’s tone was sincere, reassuring. The hologram faded. The screen changed from white to black with blue numbers counting down.

Three.

Two.

One.

On screen, two men were deep in conversation.

Drew started, his heart in his throat. “What the almighty hell?”

On the TV, Drew stood in front of his father, Colonel Slade Roberson, the man behind the entire government’s exodus to Callisto, a moon Slade declared, “habitable by human beings.”

The cameraman was hunkered behind a bush, his breathing labored, as he filmed the meeting between father and son on his cell phone.

Drew knew it was fake – he’d never been there, never met his father in a forest, but he was captivated, nonetheless.

The camera work was jittery, made to look clandestine and amateurish, but the lighting was perfect, their faces in focus. The sound, though, was a dead giveaway. The men’s voices were clearly audible. There was no way in hell you could get that clarity from twenty feet. People would know it was a set up, a fake, a piece of propaganda, filmed on some studio lot.

“We’re airing this over the TV networks right now,” said Anderle.

It was ridiculous. Yet, Drew studied the news reel as if it was his life on the line.

Slade stood next to a helicopter, dressed in a futuristic, form-fitting jumpsuit, a helmet tucked under his arm. He put the helmet down and brought Drew in for a hug.

Drew pushed him away.

“You’re coming with me, son,” said Slade.

Drew backed away from Slade, his face red. “You get on that chopper and you’re no longer my father.”

Slade looked down. “I have to, Drew.”

“Why?”

“I can’t back out of this now. It’s gone on too long, gone too far.” Slade glanced over his shoulder. “Guards!”

“Stop this, Slade! You took an oath. You’re supposed to be a defender of the people. The citizens of the United States trusted you. They looked to you for protection. If you leave, you strip all that protection away. You can’t do it.”

“Guards,” yelled Slade again. He grimaced, signs of pain rippling over his hardened face. “You’re coming with us one way or the other, Drew.”

The camera man shifted his shot from Drew to soldiers rushing toward Slade and Drew. He panned the camera back in Drew’s direction.

Drew turned and ran, the cameraman doing the same, following Drew, doing his best to keep the camera on Drew while pushing away foliage and jumping over downed tree limbs. He skidded to a halt just as Drew ran by, entering a dense thicket, dodging trees and brush.

Two men came barreling after him, pistols drawn.

The cameraman followed them down a small ravine, over a tree-riddled hill, out of the clump of trees, and down a dark alley.

Drew jumped into a garbage bin.

One of Slade’s guards pulled the trigger and a bullet punctured the metal bin. An obvious warning shot.

Drew jumped on the lip of the bin and did an acrobatic flip to the ground, running the moment his shoes touched the pavement.

Back in Lookout Mountain, the real Drew snorted in derision. “No one’s going to believe an acrobatic flip…”

Anderle shushed him, his eyes glued to the screen.

The guards chased fake-Drew, body-double-Drew, holographic-Drew, whatever-he-was-he-wasn’t-real-Drew through the alley and onto a busy street, cars honking and swerving, their lights blinding him as they swept by.

Drew raced onto the street and right in front of a car. He slammed his hands on a hood. Predictably, the car had stopped just inches from him. The driver screamed profanities, then jerked back as a bullet – possibly meant for Drew – sliced the driver right between the eyes.

Drew ran around the car and behind a two-story apartment complex, disappearing into another building. The military men ran after him, then the scene ended.

President Jefferson stepped in front of the camera, a United States flag pin on his suit-coat pocket. “That’s Drew Avera. Our savior. Our champion. Our patriot. Thank you, Drew.”

Anderle turned, grinning from ear to ear. “What you think, buddy?”

Drew stood, mouth flapping in the wind. “Why?”

Anderle patted Drew’s shoulder. “Look, we need you.”

“Why? For what?” Drew had that, “no pot for three months” feeling in the pit of his stomach. The one that told him “bad things will happen. Now.” He would have given a steaming, dripping kidney, just to be allowed to light up and kick back. His old friend Anderle had shifted into some bad shit. Drew wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of shit exactly, but as soon as that thought entered his mind, he knew he had to dig deeper. The journalist in him always won out. Even over the stoner.

Anderle slipped his hand off Drew’s shoulder and walked toward the doorway. He spun on his heels, lips curled. “I’ll let you and Mya stay safe if you’re game with what we need you to do. I won’t if you decide to sit on your ass and do nothing. You’re living like a prince, Drew. Don’t be a disrespectful prick.”

A prince? Drew was being treated like an unruly dog and Mya like a prisoner.

Drew put his hands behind his head in what he hoped was a show of casual nonchalance. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

Anderle smiled. “It’s for the benefit of all.” He eyed a guard. “Take over for the other guards watching over Mya.”

The guard nodded.

“We need her to lure in her father,” Anderle said as he disappeared around the corner.

Lure in her father? What? Drew sighed. There was a sinister plan in place and it involved Mya and her dad. Drew stood when a clack of boots pierced the hallway, slowly coming closer.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

General Lin Yu took a step into view, cocking his head in Drew’s direction. He pointed, shaking his head, making sarcastic puppy-dog eyes, his lower lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout. He pointed his finger at him, pushing his thumb, creating a fake gun with his hand. “This for Mya,” came out of his mouth. He cocked his thumb back with his other hand and released, dropping his thumb down, “Phta, Phta,” he sounded, light spit shooting out of his mouth. It was the sound of a silencer on a gun. “Pour little Mya. She important to us. She important to her papa. We need her papa. You be careful or we make her dead anyway. Then you die.”

4

Leonia, Canis Major ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

Jaxx marveled at the lion’s poise and grace. The lion should have been staggering and stumbling, unsteady on two legs, but he was the opposite. He walked upright, as if lions on Leonia had always walked upright. The lion reached behind his back and pulled out a long, wide bamboo-like stick, with a laser trigger and a scope. Jaxx took a step back, moving into fighting position, bringing energy through his palms and up his arms. He was getting better at this, more skilled at harnessing the Chi of the Universe.

The lion gave a hearty laugh. “I thought you didn’t fear me.” He stood straighter and threw off his brown robe, revealing his muscle-bound, athletic build – no shirt, but pants that reminded Jaxx of a Lanna: Thai fishermen pants, wide and loose, wrapped at the waist by a silver rope.

The lion had black chains crisscrossing his chest, knives sheathed and dangling from the chains. Bulbous, rounded glass bottles filled with a red liquid were attached to the rope around his pants, with energy guns slung low around his hips.

The lion threw his bamboo weapon into the air. It spun several times until he caught it and aimed toward the sky. “I never thought I’d have to fight again, Jaxx. You brought us war.” He glared at Jaxx, then back up at the oncoming combat-mechs. “We were a peaceful lot – until you showed up and opened the pyramid network. But peace on our planet? Not anymore. Not for a while.” He growled. “And I told you to run!”

The lion turned, thrusting his giant weapon upward then pulled the trigger with his claw. A bright burst of purple energy exploded from the weapon’s barrel just as a flying combat-mech came into view, slamming against the mech’s hip. Shards of armor splayed outward, twisting the combat-mech around, doing little damage but changing its trajectory.

The lion roared. “Run, I said!”

Whooooj! Whooooj! Whooooj!

More purple energy bursts shot from several different positions inside the wheat field, cracking against combat-mechs, lighting them up, but doing very little damage.

Jaxx spun on his heels, pushing at stalks, bending and breaking them to make a path as he raced away from the lion. He zig-zagged, avoiding falling debris, crashing through the grain. There was no end, no way out. Did this field go on forever?

A furry arm, yellowish-gold in color, jutted out from the stalks, clothes-lining him and lifting him off his feet. He came down hard, knocking the wind out of him, grain from the stalks spilling down on him, like snow.

A lioness loomed. She smiled, her sharp teeth shining, her purple eyes glowing. “I hear you’re Jaxx?” She held her hand out to help Jaxx up. She was also toned, though a few feet shorter than the other beast he had just met. She had on the same pants and chains crisscrossed over her tan shirt. She held a bamboo rifle in her other hand.

Jaxx extended his hand, doing his best to catch his breath, his stomach and ribs tightening around his diaphragm, making it nearly impossible to suck in the planet’s rich oxygen.

He touched the lioness’s paw. It was soft, inviting, reminding him of a ridiculously comfortable blanket.

She helped him to his feet, then pounded the rifle against his chest, slamming him on the ground, the back of his head striking hard against the earth. He rubbed his occipital bone and moaned just as thunder blanketed the atmosphere – a black, diamond-shaped ship with heavy rockets, punched through the blue heaven above.

The lioness looked up. “You’ve brought the Agadons upon us!” She glanced down at Jaxx, her face gnarled in fury. “You fool.”

She swung her bamboo stick upward, slid her claw into the trigger, and pulled. Blast after purple blast shot toward the diamond ship, evaporating against the ship’s energy shield.

Fury filled her eyes. “They bring black science, blended with Agadon magic. These creatures, the inhabitants of those ships, are as bad as it gets. Those artificial intelligence breeds should have never been created. One wrong program glitch in their mainframe systems and these nasty Beings turning on the entire galaxy is what happens.”

Jaxx attempted to get up, but was met with the lioness’s boot against his stomach, shoving him back down. “Stay.” She shot off another round of purple projectiles. “Can you fight?”

Jaxx nodded. “I can.”

She unstrapped a gun from her chain and dropped it on the ground. “You can? No, no. You will.”

Jaxx grabbed the gun and she pulled him to his feet. “Follow me, peach-face. We’ve got combat-mechs to pound and Agadons to shove off our planet.”

5

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

Drew opened a door onto a barrage of flickering computer lights and rows upon rows of people working at computer stations. Some had their feet on their desks leaning back against their chairs, others were hunched over their keyboards, watching two or three monitors at a time. It was like they were conducting an orchestra.

This was Anderle’s family, his crusaders of the Dark Net, his hackers. And there was a shitload of them present.

A screen covered the entire south wall. Smack in the center of the screen was Mya’s picture. She was in the arms of a man in camo, his face excited, as if he hadn’t seen her for some time. They had the same skin tone, tan, Puerto Rican. She leaned on his arm like a comfortable child with a parent.

In the corner of the screen was a map of North Carolina, a dot hovering over the words Marine Corp Base Camp. Data streamed across the screen, tabulating certain United States military movements. They were tracking someone or a group of people, perhaps an entire brigade. That was a shit ton of manpower to dedicate to track one brigade. Drew studied the data as it streamed by. Little by little, a picture emerged. It wasn’t a platoon. It was a single individual, code name, “Arecibo.” It was the name of Puerto Rico’s most famous observatory. Did that mean he was the observer or the observed. It still didn’t add up. Mya was at the center of something. Drew pressed his brain, but nothing popped.

A young guy twirled around in his chair and nodded. He couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old. “Hey, sailor. Whatcha’ in for?” He chewed gum, smiling just a tad.

“I’m Michael Anderle’s friend. I’m just visiting.” He didn’t know if he could call Anderle a friend anymore, but maybe it would work in here, a place he could get some answers.

The guy cocked his head, his mouth straightening, eyes serious. “You’re not a patriot hat?” He dropped his feet off his desk. “You’re that Drew guy.” He quickly typed on his computer and the main screen shut off. Commotion filled the room. He pointed to the door. “Get out.”

“A patriot hat?”

“A hacker for the New United States of America. We protect our country. Now, go.”

“I was told – ”

“Whoever told you anything about being in this room told you shit. Now get your ass out or we’ll throw you out.” He flicked his nose, then wiped his finger on his shirt. “Guards!”

“Why was Mya on the screen?”

“Tā shì shénme?” said a bulky Chinese man in a camouflage uniform and cap. He strode up the aisle, past dead screens and gaping hackers. He walked swiftly by Drew and opened the double doors. “Chūqù!”

Drew shrugged, obeying, and walked outside. The doors shut and Drew stood staring. Why was he ushered out so quickly, even after mentioning Anderle’s name?

Jefferson Kennedy, the new President of the United States, walked around the corner with a smile on his face, looking presidential in his perfectly ironed and US flag tie. He started doing the robot, a dance almost everyone knew, singing the national anthem – terribly – at the same time.

“What the…,” Drew stopped in his tracks. It had never occurred to him that the holographic president had a flesh-and-bones counterpart.

Anderle came into view, mimicking everything Jefferson Kennedy was doing, singing along with the fake President.

“Hey Drew,” said Anderle and the President at the exact same time. “What I say, what I do, what I dance...so does Mr. Jefferson Kennedy here.”

Jefferson blinked out and dissipated into nothingness. Another fucking hologram.

Drew squinted at Anderle. He hardly knew the man any more. What was he doing making a hologram dance? He had always been a couple of slices short of a loaf, but been so brilliant Drew had overlooked his kookiness? Or was it new, this off-the-wall routine? He knew he had to tread lightly, to get what he wanted. “Dude, I used your name and they still kicked me out.”

Anderle shrugged, but didn’t make eye contact. A sure sign he was hiding something.

“Man, if you need me to be compliant, I need answers. If I’m going to represent you and your…” Drew wanted to call it a ‘Fucked Up Regime’ but he caught himself in time. “You catch more flies with honey.” Wasn’t that what mom always said? He smiled, doing his best to look relaxed and on board. “If I am going to represent your new powerhouse to the United States, I need to understand where we’re headed and what the plan is.”

Anderle’s grin said there was a plan and he was busting to tell someone about it.

Drew faked his very best, loose, stoner smile; one he knew Anderle liked. They’d gotten baked enough times for his old bud to recognize that he was chill. Drew waited. And waited. He didn’t let his smile drop. Just a moment longer and Anderle would crack.

Anderle fidgeted with his shorts. “Listen buddy, General Lin Yu doesn’t want anyone going in there, especially me. And you went in there even though I asked you to see me, not the IT room.” He looked away.

“I thought this was your command, Anderle?”

“Yeah…” Anderle shoved his hands in his pockets. “We are trying to get the Chinese army to turn on their president. Apparently, I screwed it up by spying on the general himself, hacking his computer files. They have some high-end filters, I tell you. I did not see those trip wires and you know me, I see every electronic thing there is to see…”

“Dude…that sucks…” Drew wanted to keep Anderle talking. Flattering the guy had always worked in the past.

“That tight-ass general will get over it. If he doesn’t, well...” Anderle fingered his throat, moving it slowly in a cutting motion.

Drew pulled Anderle’s hand down. “They might be watching.”

“I’m in control, Drew. Don’t you worry your little face, bro.”

Drew doubted it. In the years that he had known him, Anderle had never threatened him like he had the other day. Someone was pulling the strings and it wasn’t Anderle.

“It’s all cool.” Anderle offered Drew a piece of candy.

He shook his head no. He leaned in close and whispered. “What about Mya?”

Anderle nodded, excited. “She’s our bait.”

The puzzle pieces fell into place. They were tracking an asset across the States. Drew took a leap, hoping he’d put it together accurately. “For Arecibo?”

“Yeah….” Anderle was pumped. “Once we corner Arecibo, game over, man.”

“He’s her father, right?” said Drew.

“You bet your ass he’s her father. That’s not his real name, but it’s kinda cool we call him a code name, don’t you think?” His lips downturned at Drew’s shrug and continued, “Mya’s asshole father has us in a bind and won’t comply with our efforts to take down the Chinese president. Her father is running the military like he’s the president.” He pulled Drew down the hall towards the oval office. “I’m the president.”

“About Mya.”

“Mya, shmya.” They reached the oval office and Anderle’s hand rested on the door handle.

“You can’t use her as bait, man,” said Drew. “I’m not going to put a little girl on death row like this. You’re in charge, get her out. Get me out.”

“No can do, brother. No. Can. Do.”

“But who is Mya’s dad? Why does he even matter? He’s just a soldier…”

“Oh, Drew. He’s much more than that and like I said, he’s compromising the mission. The dipweed knows too much, knows my plans, and has been cutting off communication with my Chinese allies. The same allies who are trying to cut the Chinese president’s nuts off.”

“Doesn’t he know you’re on the same side?”

Anderle paused, twisting his hand around the door knob, letting the lock click and click and click. He pushed open the door slightly.

Drew caught his tell. “You’re not on the same side. You’re on your side.”

“Mya will help get him on our side. And on second thought, I have another kick-ass idea.” Anderle let go of the door and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, beckoning Drew to follow him down the hall, skipping the oval office altogether.

Drew stuck his foot in the closing door. He racked his brain. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Mya was special, sure. She had powers only movie characters had. Was that why they were keeping her under lock and key? Was the story about her father just a ruse? It didn’t add up and Drew did not like it when the facts didn’t add up.

Anderle stopped in mid-stride and wiggled the phone in his hand. “Come on. I want to show you how bad-ass of a portrait photographer I am.”

Drew stood in the doorway. “Dude, can I have a piece of candy?” Had the guy even noticed he was propping the door to the oval office open or was he too self-absorbed to let a tiny detail like national security impinge on whatever madness he had planned for the next ten minutes?

Anderle dug into his pants pocket and tossed a piece of candy at Drew. He turned and started to dance walk down the hall.

Drew caught it, unwrapped it, and put it in his mouth. He rubbed the peppermint candy while it was in his mouth, getting the stickiness on his fingers, then went to shut the oval office doors.

Drew wiped his sticky fingers on the plastic wrapper, then rolled it up, and stuck it in the door’s lock jamb. He twisted the door knob’s lock and shut the door, making sure the wrapper halted the latch bolt from going in more than a few centimeters into the strike hole, allowing him to slip anything between the face plate and the door jamb to easily open it back up. When he needed to and tonight, he’d get his ass in back in here.

Anderle was still practicing his dance moves, apparently oblivious.

6

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Slade and Craig stared at a holographic screen in Slade’s upper deck quarters. It was static, waiting for Kajka Okbak, the Kelhoon supreme leader to join. The Kelhoon were quickly becoming the sworn enemy of the Atlanteans on Callisto and, as a result, a race relationship Slade was interested in cultivating.

The screen fizzled, then blipped on. Kajka Okbak, recognizable only because of his ceremonial garb, stared unblinking with his freaky, yellow eyes. Slade had studied the Kelhoon, so he knew the half-lizard, half-human beings would make outstanding allies. He waited until Okbak had blinked three times, which was the sign that negotiations could proceed. He turned to President Craig Martelle and bowed his head, signaling that he was the human lead negotiator.

“I’m going to get to the point, Kajka Okbak. We are willing to deliver the humans on this ship to you on a silver platter. What is our compensation?” asked Craig.

They’d been over the same conversation with Okbak for the last several days. Okbak was yet to confirm any type of monetary units he’d give them for the prize he was about to receive.

Okbak licked his lips. “Monjaka monjova lakanjaka funjoonka.”

Slade’s stomach fluttered. He’d been reading up on the Kelhoon language, learning bits and pieces here and there and he knew numbers, and this was a big, big number. He wrote it down on a piece of paper and handed it to Craig. He felt the President twitch ever so slightly. He was impressed, too. Hell, who wouldn’t be? It was a lot of currency. The proposed payment was to be in galactic em-halcyon — emerald-gold melted into coins.

Craig gave Slade a look, but Slade’s eyes told him to stand fast.

Slade smirked. “Not enough. We want to be included into your galactic slave trade and farming system.”

“Najchka?”

“Why? You ask me why?” Slade gave Okbak a look like it was the dumbest question any Being in the universe had ever posed. “Craig and I want peace of mind. We don’t want to be one of the humans you kidnap, like you have for centuries, to be used for farming or your slave trade. If we run a portion of the slave trade and the pan-galactic farming...” he paused, thinking. “Throw in a plush palace on Callisto for each of us, then our deal is solid.”

A flap on the back of Okbak’s scaly skin-head flapped up and his nose flared. “Goojkanta ga!”

The screen turned off.

“What did he say?” Craig slammed his fist into the desk, fuming.

“Let’s just say he’ll think about it.”

“You went rogue on me, Slade. What the hell are you doing?”

Slade stood. “Mr. President. I’m sorry to usurp your authority, but I had to think on my toes right there. I wanted to guarantee our personal safety, if we do this deal with the Kelhoon. They are ruthless killers and would eat us like we eat ham and eggs. Don’t kid yourself, Mr. President. This is dangerous, but less dangerous if we’re in on the whole enchilada with the Kelhoon, helping run their galactic businesses. It will make us richer than shit.”

“And if he says no?”

“Then the deal is off, and we commence to Callisto as if we had never planned to hand our politicians over to the Kelhoon in the first place.”

“If we back out of this deal, the Kelhoon will fight us.”

Slade could read Craig like a cheap book, though the Pres thought he was good at hiding his emotions. Craig obviously didn’t like the idea of going to war with the Kelhoon. He was probably happy to bring a war to Earth – it compensated his government and black ops companies just fine back home, but out here in the deep, dark cosmos, there wasn’t a lick of compensation for him for any type of combat. “This better work out,” he said. “If it goes south, I’ll hang you out to dry, like the snake you are…”

Slade popped in a piece of gum and chewed loudly. He winked. “Either way, I’m fine.”

The HDC beeped and Kajka Okbak materialized on the screen. “Oojkana.”

“Agreed?” said Slade. “Fabulous. We look forward to the first installment. When that arrives, you’ll have your human cattle.”

“Monjaka monjova lakanjaka funjoonka moonjova lakanjaka.”

Slade dipped his head in agreement. “Deal.”

The hologram blipped off.

Craig grinned. Slade figured he was thinking that his two young daughters – currently on the starship – would be taken care of for the rest of their lives.

“We’ll be living like kings,” said Craig.

Slade popped his gum. “Don’t need to remind me.”

“Does it bother you that we’re handing every human on the ship to the Kelhoon race, for their enjoyment, for their entertainment, for their business?”

“Nope. We’re going to have late-night trips back to Earth…”

“Kidnapping hundreds of people per year, using them as slaves or putting them into the Kelhoon factory-farm system, where they are bred, fattened, and eventually slaughtered.”

“They live miserable lives on Earth anyway. We’ll be doing them a favor,” Slade responded.

“Can we get back there before the natural disasters hit?”

“Sure,” said Slade. “There are going to be earthquakes, hurricanes, volcanic eruptions, and you name it…eventually. It’s just the way the warming of the Earth goes.”

“Home…” said Craig. He didn’t try to hide his delight.

Slade punched in Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore’s comm link number. He grinned. “Next up, convincing the Secret Space Program to go into a war against the Kelhoon. We’ll lead the SSP into a trap. That means you’re up, Mr. President.”

Craig snapped to attention. It was time to do what he did best. Lie his ass off, and this time to an admiral known as the “Wolf.” He’d need to be on his best game.

7

Leonia, Canis Major ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

The lioness held Jaxx up by the back collar, her soft fur pressing against his neck. She pushed her way out of the stalks and stopped, gawking at several twenty-story high combat-mechs with double barrel cannons mounted on their shoulders. They looked at her, then aimed. The cannon barrel flared, then recoiled. A blast expelled and the lioness ducked, a singe of electricity sparking Jaxx, but the shot was high and wide.

The lioness turned just as the balls of flame lit up the wheat field, the stalks sparking into a blaze of fire.

“That will spread fast,” she mumbled to herself.

The lioness stepped into a throng of untouched grain stalks, hiding herself and Jaxx from view. She pointed to a combat-mech in the distance and gasped. It targeted a spinning, hovering pyramid, its cannon barrel rotating in place as blue blaze after blue blaze dug into the outer pyramid casing, throwing chunks off and to the ground like pieces of broken chalk.

The lioness dropped Jaxx. “You still have the phaser I gifted you?”

Jaxx lifted it up, targeting the combat-mech looking to ruin the pyramid. “I’m one step ahead of you.”

He pulled the trigger.

Whooooj!

The recoil picked him off his feet and threw Jaxx back into the grain, somersaulting him head over heels. The gun spun away, clanking against the dirt. He rolled over, grasping the gun while lying on his stomach, and aiming a second time.

The combat-mech turned, facing Jaxx’s and the lioness’s direction.

“Nice shot, peach-face. You took one of his cannons off-line.” She went to one knee and pointed her rifle at the other cannon. She took a shot, her shoulder bucking back as purple charges expelled from her barrel, and lit up a second cannon on the combat-mech’s other shoulder.

The cannon burst into flames, twisting in on itself, and fell off the mech’s shoulder. A clump of dirt exploded behind the mech as the cannon hit the ground, plumes of dust shooting into the air.

The mech pounded forward, the top of its forearm opened and a blaster popped out.

“Run!” yelled the lioness, grabbing Jaxx by the back of the shirt and pulling him along. She heaved him under her arm like he was a school book, his head jostling back and forth as she pumped her arms, heading toward a white hut.

Halfway there, she went into a baseball slide and positioned her body low, barely ducking under a hot, sizzling energy beam.

“Let me down,” screamed Jaxx.

Ignoring Jaxx, she stood and dashed toward the hut’s opening, taking a giant leap. “Activate!” she called out.

The entrance’s floor opened up, exposing a dark hole.

Still grasping Jaxx, the lioness went feet first just as a flash of light and an explosion hammered above them, erasing the top of the hut from existence, and setting the sides ablaze, flames dancing all around.

They continued to fall, the wind rushing up against them, as if they’d just jumped out of a SF-13 Air Wing, 5,000 feet up.

The lioness discarded her bamboo rifle and unclipped something from the chains around her torso. She pulled Jaxx up to her shoulder like he was a toy. “Hold on to me tight.”

She lowered him and Jaxx wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing with all he had, grasping the rope around her hips. She let go of him and Jaxx slipped, feeling his weight take over, then curled his fingers more around the braided lanyard, hanging on for dear life.

Phhshkur! Phhshkur!

The lioness held her arms straight down while holding two blasters in her hand, spewing out a continuous blueish-white flame from the muzzles. She and Jaxx slowed quickly, then started to hover.

Phhshkur! Phhshkur!

More flames lit up the room around them. Lions surrounded them, all descending, lighting up the immense, cavernous area they were in.

Jaxx’s feet touched the ground and he let go of the lioness, just as more of her kind landed.

Light poured through dozens of holes in the ceiling, no doubt openings where huts once were. A roar echoed against the walls and the holes in the ceiling closed. Blackness pervaded the underground.

A pop sounded and a dazzling display of colors spun in a circle near the ceiling, slowly coming in toward each other. A burst of light shot outward in the middle of the color array. The colors enlarged and became an orb, giving the area ample light.

Tink. Tink. Tink.

Jaxx spun around as glass-like tables lit up, glowing ambers, pinks, and yellows.

Tink. Tink. Tink.

More tables, chairs, and lights flickered on, displaying row upon row of immense starships, lion combat-mechs, and artillery weapons throughout the facility – a superstructure that went on for miles.

The lioness nudged Jaxx’s back. “Thanks to you, blue-eyes, we have to use those mechanical beasts again.” She pushed him forward and to a table. “Put your hands on it.”

Jaxx gave her a look. If this was some type of torture, then come hell or high water, he wasn’t going to touch the thing.

“We need your DNA to activate this, you bumbling idiot. Unlike other races,” she glanced up, looking passed the ceiling and to the Agadon’s above. “We aren’t warlike so we have a failsafe when it comes to war; rules about when we are allowed to partake. The only way the Divine Force allows us to use these weapons of destruction is by the one who brought us war. Touch it, Jaxx.”

There was truth in her eyes, or she actually believed the bullshit she was spewing.

Jaxx slowly moved his hand over the table and let it hover in place. “What do they want, these Agadon?”

The lioness growled and shoved his hand on the table. “What do they ever want?”

Jaxx jumped back. The table vibrated and an electric charge shot from the base of the table and created a swirling, electric circle in it’s middle. It shook more fiercely and started moving back and forth on its legs until it reached a trembling peak. The electric circle shot up like a fountain. Jaxx stepped back when the electrical fountain poured over the sides of the table, shooting a million sparks continuously against the ground.

The sparks quickly built up and each one joined another, building something ethereal, constructing layer upon layer of sparks, forming a giant rectangular cuboid, then ceased. The fountain vanished and the rectangle hardened, then materialized.

A book. And it was sitting next to Jaxx’s foot.

Symbols were etched on the cover, looking distinctly Kabbalistic – the wisdom of truth, the essential teachings of Jewish cosmology – represented by the eternity symbol, a staff with a serpent intertwining, an ankh, and the lotus flower.

“Open it, Jaxx.”

He took a deep breath. “This is etched in some of earth’s oldest writings? How do you know our symbols? Our oldest languages?”

It would have been a strange question to ask, were it not for the fact that he was an archaeologist. He held in his hand a book that was a key of some sort; one that might tell him the origins of these people, of his people – of earth’s many languages. He longed to bury himself in a corner and read until his eyes were about to pop out of his head. But that was the old Jaxx. The new Jaxx had a call of duty. He couldn’t retreat. He had to do his part.

“The many sphinx on your planet didn’t build themselves. By the way, it once had a lioness’s head, not the silly human head that you see today.”

He shot the lioness a look. He knew that the sphinx once had a lioness head and that the current human face wasn’t the original carving. Anyone could see the discrepancy between the sphinx’s small head compared to its large body. All other statues in that region were symmetrically perfect. But how did this lioness standing before him know this? Did she visit Earth from time to time? And there were more sphinxes on earth? She had to be wrong. “Many sphinxes? I’m sorry, but there is only one.”

“There are many and two always sit next to each other, but the male next to your only exposed sphinx – a female – has yet to be revealed. That’s how all sphinxes are created. One male, one female, closely bonded to each other. Once you have another ice age, the oceans will fall, and many more will be revealed to you and your people. Now, open the book. We don’t have much time.”

“You didn’t answer my original question. Also written on the book is the English language? My language.”

“We left your language as a seed for your people, knowing that someday it would bring your race closer together and be known as the universal language. Now, put your hand on the book.”

He inspected the cover. It was bound in leather.

“We are all waiting!”

Jaxx eyed the lioness and for the first time noticed a gang of lions standing around him, watching.

“Do it, now.”

He thrust his hand on the book. Static electricity shocked his palm. He pulled back. The book opened on its own, turning to a random page, showing an entire combat-mech’s anatomy, the engines, weapons, the navigation, and the fighting techniques associated with it.

The lioness stood straighter, taking in a deep breath. “We will fight. To your positions, my loves.” She eyed Jaxx. “Now, Jaxx. You are to help us. Stare at that page until you can’t stare any longer.”

Even if the lioness had told him not to look, it wouldn’t have mattered. He couldn’t have taken his eyes off of the page if a gun were pointed at his temple.

His head jerked as a hologram jumped from the page and penetrated his pupils. He bent over, losing equilibrium, spinning and falling to the floor, his chest landing on top of the book. A moment later, floods of combat-mech diagnostics and thousands of mech specifications entered his brain. It was a simulation. Jaxx was to learn mech-driven combat. Then scenes of real combat blanketed his mind as if he’d been in these mechs before, though he knew he hadn’t. The experiences cemented themselves into his temporal lobe, until he had mastered the big machine.

He pushed off the ground and stood erect. He gasped for air and then fell on his butt. He glanced at his hands. “What happened?”

The lioness bent down. “We just put you through ten thousand hours of training and ten thousand hours of combat in a span of ten seconds.”

A combat-mech with a lion’s head stood a mile across the room in front of him, yet he could see it pulsate, could hear its engines calling him and its weapons calibrating themselves just for him. “You want me to fight in one of those?”

She helped him up. “Welcome to the team, pink-lips. I’m Zara. It’s time to bring a positive to the negative you brought to us.”

8

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

“How are we going to possibly find her?” said Fox, resting the back of his head on the co-pilot’s chair.

“We will,” said Rivkah, concentrating on the ship’s nav screen.

They were flying Fox’s Oospore Class 9 dropship over the Flood of Dawn, low and nearly hugging the ice-cold terrain, approaching East Rise – an Atlantean city two clicks easterly.

Flood of Dawn’s photon and ion cannons pounded the East Rise border, kicking up dust clouds, full of debris and broken rocks, filling the horizon in front of them, hiding the horror beyond. This assault slowed the slitted-pupil, knobby-kneed yellow eyed half-human, half-lizard Kelhoon’s advance and kept them at bay – a temporary solution to a fucked-up problem. Eventually, the sworn enemy of the Callistan’s, the Kelhoon, would circumnavigate the clouds or even tunnel under ground to reach Flood of Dawn, Callisto’s capital, home of Queen Liberty Speidel.

Rivkah steered the Oospore over a patch of snow-covered dead trees. They were approaching East Rise fast, but Bogle couldn’t have already reached or passed the border into East Rise, unless she ran as fast as a starfighter and could fly like a bird over the bombardment.

Rivkah banked left, heading over a white and black dotted ridge and ascended up a small hilly range, then slowed. Small saplings grew in the seemingly barren soil, frosted white and devoid of nutrients, but they grew nonetheless.

She brought the dropship to a hover and lowered it. It shook when it landed, the hydraulics whining as if they hadn’t been greased in years.

“What are you doing?” asked Fox, adjusting his Atlantean armor.

Rivkah opened the cockpit. The ramp hissed, pistons easing against the suction. “This hill is full of caves. She may be resting in one of them.”

Fox slipped an energy charge in his IPR-8, Ion Pulse Rifle. “And so could some other odd-looking creatures.”

Rivkah pulled her phaser out of her holster and pushed the barrel against Fox’s temple. “Put it down. Not a chance in hell I’m going to let you accidentally pull the trigger on Bogle.”

Fox pushed Rivkah’s gun away and leaned his head to the side, his jaw set. He sniffed and gave her a look, one that said, “I don’t give a crap.” He turned toward the ramp, the energy rifle still in his hand.

Rivkah bent down on one knee, closed one eye and steadied her gun on her other knee. She pulled the trigger.

Pooofshta!

Fox’s rifle cracked in half, the barrel tumbled to the floor. He held the now smoking hand grip in his hand. He looked at the broken piece and tossed it to the side. “Suit yourself, woman.” He exited the craft, mumbling curses at each step, touching a holstered gun at his hip.

Rivkah rolled her eyes and holstered her own phaser, shut down the engines, and hastened down the ramp, the cold air immediately puckering her skin.

The terrain outside was bare, more high-desert than anything, with small white shrubs everywhere and only a hint of green. Condensation billowed out of Rivkah’s mouth at every breath.

Fox took a step around a boulder and climbed up a steep, rocky ascent. “Where we going, Rivkah?”

“Search, Fox. Keep your eyes peeled for any –” Just as she was about to say it, she saw it. “Footprints, nine-o’clock.”

Fox stopped and moved over to a half-dirt, half-snowed area and inspected the ground. “Those are boot prints.”

Rivkah nodded, tracing the familiar insignia in the center of the print. “Atlantean’s boots don’t have ‘SSP’ inscribed on their soles.” Rivkah looked around, hoping for more prints with Secret Space Program emblems. “She was here. That we know.”

Fox grabbed a shrub and pulled himself over a small ridge, then lifted his leg over the lip and sat on his knees. “Right here.”

“You see her?”

“No. I see a cave one click at our eleven-o’clock.” He pulled out a flash light. “I’m heading that way. You can search southwest.”

“Wait, you dumb-ass. Two are better than one.”

He scoffed. “Not against me. She’s a girl, remember?”

“I’m a girl.” Rivkah pulled herself up over the ridge. “Remember me kicking your ass?”

Fox grunted. “You got lucky several times. I wanted to kill you and was told to keep you alive on too many occasions. That hampered my fighting style.”

Rivkah halted. Why was he truly helping her? There was something underneath it all. Something wasn’t sitting right in her heart, in her solar plexus. What wasn’t she seeing? Getting?

Fox stiffened, almost reading her mind. “Don’t you worry your little self.”

“One minute you want us killed, the next you’re trying to save the Atlanteans here on Callisto from total annihilation, even to the point of helping Jaxx to do some odd disappearing act right in front of our eyes.” She unholstered her gun and pointed it at Fox. “What’s the real reason? Why are you helping us?”

Fox looked over his shoulder. “Don’t question me. You won’t get answers. I’m SSP trained, special ops. We never break.”

A cold wind buffeted them. Rivkah shut her eyes. Her inner vision reached out to Fox, two energy spindles twisting together, thrusting into Fox’s brain. She flinched when a hot blast of energy shot back at her.

She opened her eyes.

Fox was seething, breathing heavily, fingers curled into a fist. “You’re not the only one who can bend energy like that.” He twisted around, walking toward the cave.

She followed him, kicking a white rock to the side as she trekked forward. “I know why.”

Fox’s face reddened. “You know nothing.”

“Slade.”

Fox stopped, looking down. “He deserves to die.”

“I know that better than you.”

“He’s a traitor.”

“You and your traitor shit. When are you –”

He spun around, glaring at Rivkah, heat rising in his chest. “Am I the only loyalist in the entire Secret Space Program?”

“Slade isn’t a part of the Secret Space Program.”

“Yes, but he was. You were too. And even Jaxx.” He took several steps in Rivkah’s direction and leaned in, almost nose to nose, his fury almost unbearable. “Stars and stripes comes before family and friends, and other alien races. That’s something no one seems to remember or understand.”

She pushed her index finger into Fox’s chest. “I practically gave my life to the stars and stripes and this Secret Space Program bullshit. And…what’s more…I was instrumental in keeping that program undercover – inventing cover stories: military stealth missions, flaming meteors, blimps, helicopters, Chinese lanterns, you name it…we came up with every ‘explanation’ in the book for ‘unexplained lights in the sky,’ so the public would leave us alone and we could continue to launch our craft into space, unhindered. We’ve rolled out mission after mission, killing countless green and blue, one-eyed freaks. You, on the other hand –”

“I, on the other hand, didn’t turn on the SSP and sell out our entire country, and didn’t try to commit genocide on our own human race.”

Rivkah tilted her head. “What are you talking about?”

“You were just in my head. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“All I saw was Slade. Nothing else.”

Fox picked up a clump of earth and threw it to the side. “Slade is aligned with the Kelhoon. He’s set a trap and is steering Starship Atlantis and the entire SSP fleet towards utter annihilation. The people on that ship will be slaves at best, mincemeat at worse.”

Rivkah shook her head, taking a step back. “No. He wouldn’t do that. I know Slade. He’s an asshole, alright, but he wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I saw it. I saw the transmission.”

“What transmission?”

Fox crossed his arms over his chest. “Before I came back to help with Jaxx’s disappearing trick, I saw a transmission between the Kelhoon leader and Slade. That’s why I came back. That’s why I’m here, helping you pricks do whatever you pricks do.”

Rivkah shrugged, giving Fox an exaggerated smile. “He’s setting the Kelhoon up. Lying to them.”

Fox’s eyes widened. “Did you see the transmission?”

“No. But I know Slade.”

“The fuck you do, woman.”

Rivkah laughed. “You lame-ass grunts just don’t use your brains.”

“You’re in on it?” Fox started to tremble, and Rivkah could sense a searing ember of energy rise from his spine and out into his hands. “You...fucking traitor!” He thrust out his hands, connecting his palms to Rivkah’s shoulders.

A blinding light flashed and she toppled backwards, tumbling over several boulders and skidding across the top of a ridge until her feet were somehow touching nothing. Her body continued to move backward until she realized she was about to fall off a cliff – a steep cliff.

She frantically reached up, grasping a thick shrub that clung to the cliff’s lip, her feet dangling. She looked down. It had to be at least five hundred feet between her and the white and gray rocks below.

Gravel crunched under heavy feet as Fox came into view, kicking dirt into Rivkah’s eyes. “You’re in on this shit, too. I can’t believe it. You had us all tricked.” He stepped on her fingers. “Bye-bye Rivkah.”

9

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

“It is time.”

“What?” Drew bolted upright, sweat dripping from his face. He was running, being chased by the G-men who’d killed his mom, ducking bullets, saving beautiful women from zombies wearing People’s Liberation Army uniforms straight from the Republic of China.

He shook his head. Everything was dim, yet very foreign. God, he just needed a toke.

“Where the hell am I?” His heart beat fast while his brain tried to adjust and bring some memory to the surface. He relaxed. “Thank God.” He was in his room, deep in Anderle’s fake White House or whatever that hacker, president-wannabe ass-hat wanted to call this underground base.

A small night light lit the corner of Mya’s bed. Her heavy breaths told Drew that she was fast asleep, hopefully not dreaming about being a prisoner here, about longing for her father, about this Chinese prick-soldier sleeping on the stool next to the door, his head back and against the wall, his mouth open, his eyes closed.

Wait. The guy was asleep.

“It is time.”

Drew caught his breath, startled, and looked around. He whispered, “Mom?”

“Go.”

He knew exactly what she meant. He always knew what she meant. She was written in his genes. He couldn’t not understand her if he tried. Drew slowly pushed the sheets off and put on his slippers, courtesy of Anderle. He grabbed his wallet off the bedside table and pulled out a credit card, slipping it in his hands, eyeing the sleeping guard.

The guard didn’t move.

He put the wallet back on his bedside table and tiptoed to the door. He held his breath, his hip next to the grunt’s face, and cautiously turned the knob. Anderle had said he, “wasn’t a prisoner, but an honored guest. The door to your room would never be locked.” Drew had no clue how long that promise would last, but he would at least take advantage while he could.

He glanced at the guard, curling his lips under his teeth, biting his lips together. He turned the knob more and glanced at him again.

The guard remained fast asleep.

He opened the door a crack. It creaked. The guard stirred, opening his eyes.

Drew stood still, eyes wide, making sure not to breath an ounce.

The soldier smacked his lips together and leaned his head to the side, his eyelids falling, falling, falling, and closed.

How the guy hadn’t seen him, Drew didn’t know. He looked up at the ceiling, thanking the Goddess – Mary Jane.

The soldier’s breathing slowed, his mouth opening, sending a slight snore across the room.

He opened the door another crack. No sound.

Good. He opened it a bit more and peeked through.

He quickly ducked back in, keeping the door ajar.

A guard, leaning up against a wall ten or so yards away, stood next to a portrait of George Washington, his rifle by his side. He was bobbing his head, earbuds in his ears, listening to a torch-song warbler.

Drew shot a look back at the guard sleeping on the stool. How in weed’s glorious name was he going to get out of the room, let alone stroll down the hallways to the fake oval office?

Drew looked back through the opening between the door and the frame. A click-clack of boots sounded through the corridor and the guard in the hallway stood more erect, quickly taking his earbuds out, shoving them into his fatigues.

General Lin Yu walked up to the guard and leaned in, quietly saying something in his ear, the general’s face beet red. The guard quickly nodded, fear visibly washing over him, his arms becoming more rigid. Yu stepped back, his nose crinkled, looking the young man up and down with disdain. He held out his hand and the soldier reached into his pocket, pulling out the earbuds and handed them to Yu.

Yu spit in his face and grasped the man by his shirt, pulling him forward and shoving him down the hall, releasing his grip a moment later. The soldier hurried away and out of Drew’s line of sight. Yu took his place, resting his hand on his holstered semi-automatic and leaned back against the wall.

Sneaking out tonight wasn’t going to happen. Being under surveillance twenty-four-seven sucked ass. If he could just take a peek at Anderle’s computer, find out why Mya’s father was such a pest to Anderle and the General, and exactly what Mya’s dad was doing to be such a nuisance, then maybe he’d have the answers he needed. Then again, it could be yet another rabbit hole.

He touched the door, about to shut it.

“Don’t give up, Drew.” It was his mom’s voice. He stuck his index finger in his ear and wiggled it, not that that ever helped. It was an odd feeling hearing his mother. Sometimes it was as if she stood right next to him, talking in his ear. It was eerie and comforting and gave him the wiggs. Being a stoner, he was not a stranger to wigging out, but hearing dead people was out there, man.

“Just, go, Drew. Go.”

What a dumb idea. What a dumb, fake voice coming from his subconscious that obviously wanted him killed for some reason.

Well, damn. If it truly was his mother – and how insane that sounded – then she wouldn’t steer him wrong.

He opened the door a few inches more. If he wanted, he could turn and slide through it. He took another glance at the guard in his room. The guy’s chest rose up and down, his breathing slow and calm. God, how Drew would love to sleep that soundly someday.

He pushed the door open another few inches, again thanking the ganja goddess in the sky that it didn’t creak.

Drew sucked in a breath. General Yu was gone. It was as if he had vanished. Drew hadn’t heard the click-clack of his shoes. He hadn’t seen the guy walk away. For all he knew, the bastard got on a magical carpet and flown off.

It was too good to be true.

“If you don’t get your arse in gear, I am going to kick you from here to kingdom come.” Mom wasn’t messing around. She meant business.

Shit. He had to do it. He had to go. Maybe this was his opportunity. His only opportunity.

He turned, sliding his body through the opening and slowly closed the door. It groaned on its hinges, just as it shut. He paused, not moving a muscle.

No alarm sounded. No guard in a foreign language he wished he’d learn told him to stop. Most importantly, no general was in his ear, telling him he’d cut his throat.

He walked in the opposite direction to where Yu had stood, sweat dripping like a faucet down from his arm pits, drenching his shirt.

He rubbed his thumb and index finger on the credit card, and remembered all the times mom had shown him how to jimmy a lock, so there was no trace of you having been there…and all doors opened on command. When he questioned her about her lock-picking expertise, she would shrug. “It’s fun, Drew dear. That’s all.”

It was more than just fun. It was a lesson, something she had passed down, something –

He needed to stop thinking. Needed to concentrate.

He rounded a corner, his hand on a large trash can and froze. Footsteps clomped down the hall. He ducked down, making himself a ball, hiding beside the trash.

The footsteps dissipated and he peeked around the can. A guard turned down another hall, disappearing from view.

He stayed quiet for several minutes, waiting for an overly-aggressive Chinese corporal to run up on him and point the barrel of his rifle against the bottom of Drew’s chin.

The click-clack of boots penetrated the hall he had just came from. They stopped. Drew stood, leaned forward, and took a look around the corner. It was General Yu. Drew leaned back against the wall, mouthing, “Holy mother of Mary.” It was like the world’s slowest high-speed chase. He was going to melt from panic and exhaustion.

His heartbeat started racing, threatening to explode out of his chest. He couldn’t divert. His plan – idiotic plan – was still underway. He needed info, data, the skinny on why Mya’s dad was so important to these assholes. Moving forward was his best and only option.

“Mya’s dad isn’t the only reason Anderle’s keeping you in the dark, Drew. You should know this. Get your head into the game.” Again, mom. Always sixteen steps ahead of his conscious mind.

He looked around, making sure the coast was clear, and headed down the hall and around another corner until he was at the oval office doors. He looked left and right. No one was watching...waiting for him. He hoped.

He slipped the card between the strike plate and the latch bolt, easily opening the doors. He pulled the candy wrapper out of the hole in the strike plate and put the wrapper in his pants pocket. He walked into the oval office, closed the door, and eyed the computer.

He pulled out the desk chair and sat, turned on the computer and typed in the username and password. Anderle’s Achilles’ heel was his unending hubris. He simply thought he was smarter than anyone else. He’d told Drew his password, because he thought it was a riot and it would never circle back to bite him in the butt. “Joke’s on you, nitwit,” said Drew, fingers flying over the keyboards.

User Name: Melchizedek

Password: 1212yordlebuttmunch1212

The screen loaded and a standard open source operating system appeared, the perfect, hack-proof Linux system – a system designed to make hackers realize they’d just entered a mindfucking hell. The damage that could be done on other operating systems was much harder to accomplish on this system.

He double clicked on the home folder and clicked the file system. He opened the root folder and PASSWORD blinked on the screen. And as he suspected, another password was needed. He knew Anderle wouldn’t be a total idiot. He would have created an entirely new password for these executable files.

WRONG PASSWORD.

He flipped over the keyboard. No sticky note stuck to the bottom of it with a password written on it.

He opened a drawer.

Folders upon folders.

He searched through them.

Nothing.

He shut the drawer and went to the next. Again, nothing, and no more drawers to check. Where would Anderle keep his passwords? In a safe? He wouldn’t just consign them to memory, would he? If he did, there would be no way he could find them.

The screen saver came on – a man wearing a Guy Fawkes mask, gripping a gun – the infamous hacker group’s, Anonymous, icon – stared at him from the screen.

Was that Anderle? If it was, he didn’t deserve to wear the Anonymous mask, nor associate himself with that group. Anonymous were helpers of society and Anderle had turned out to be a scoundrel, a self-serving piece of garbage whose agenda he still had to figure out.

He moved the mouse back and forth, changing the screen to the desktop. He wasn’t going to get into the root file without a password. What a waste of adrenaline. He’d crept through the corridors, evaded generals, left Mya on her own. Shit. He’d left the kid alone. He wasn’t a fit guardian. He had to get back to her.

“Anonymous,” said his mother. “A-n-o-n-y-m-o-u-s.”

Butterflies rioted in his stomach. He went back into the root file and typed anonymous into the password.

He lifted his shoulders in anticipation. He drooped as WRONG PASSWORD blinked on the screen.

He rested back in the chair, feet up on the desk, pinching his bottom lip. He dropped his feet almost instantly. Anonymous never spelled their name with a lower-case A. It was always upper-case.

He typed in the password.

A mess of folders popped up. That meant they were high priority or at least something Anderle had recently worked on. If they meant something to Anderle, then they meant something to Drew.

He read over folder after folder until he saw it. The guy was trying to hide it, but Drew could see right through Anderle’s attempt. A folder named Seraph was sitting right there for the clicking.

Maybe this was it. Maybe this was his goldmine.

He double clicked and the file opened.

Target 1-1.

Target 1-2.

Target 1-3.

Portal.

Mission Reports.

And, Status Reports.

He clicked on Target 1-1.

A man in a United States military uniform, definitely Latino, was pictured next to a Jeep, talking to some troops. An insignia with three stripes up, three stripes down, and cross rifles in the center was on his sleeve.

He was important; the one in charge. Drew could tell.

He clicked on Target 1-2.

The same man, though this one closer up, too close, as if they – whoever they were – had been on a stakeout just outside this guy’s bunker or base.

He pulled up Target 1-3. This one was in black and white, the name Angel Segarra underneath it.

“Bingo.”

He was in the right file.

He double clicked Mission Reports.

A file full of dated documents opened and Drew leaned forward, placing his elbow on the desk, his chin in his hand, and read the latest one – labeled days before Drew entered this underground facility:

Jefferson Kennedy, President of the United States, Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

Dear President Kennedy,

Attached to this email are more pictures of the man in question, Target: Master Sargent (E-8) Angel Segarra. The daughter is more powerful around him and without her, our world is doomed, meaning our mission will fail. Several attempts to capture this man have been compromised.

We need his daughter, Mya. That is our best way to get Segarra into your custody.

Keep in mind that the US Marines under Angel Segarra are growing in numbers, coming together from around the country. They are setting up operations, getting more organized, and are becoming more aware of the anomalies forming above the pyramids around the globe. Our goal is to scramble these Marines, take his daughter, and use her to bring him to you, President Kennedy.

Be notified that Mya’s mother and son have been eliminated.

Mya and Drew Avera are on their way. Intercept when necessary.

Sincerely,

2nd Lieutenant Zhu Ling

People’s Republic of China Army

Drew frowned. He had unintentionally led Mya to this bunker. But what the heck were these anomalies forming over the pyramids?

He opened up Portal. It held two dozen videos. He clicked the first one.

A man speaking in a dialect Drew couldn’t understand was filming the Great Pyramid of Giza with his phone. The sand was stirring around it like a tornado. The sky above was black. Storm clouds gathered. Thunder shook the ground.

The man panned to the clouds, screaming. The clouds spiraled and parted and a massive, black diamond-shape ship came through, lightning striking against it, sending brilliant flashes across the sky.

The man dropped his phone on the sand. There was an explosion, off screen. The video ended.

Drew stared at the screen, unblinking, trying to put two and two together. Was this another faked video from Anderle? If it wasn’t, then what the hell was that thing?

He clicked on another video. A newscaster stood in front of a step pyramid, his hair blowing wildly, mic in his hand, speaking a language Drew couldn’t identify. He pointed to the sky. The same black clouds materialized, thunder clacking. The clouds split apart and a mess of strange-looking humanoids descended feet first from the sky, fire blasting out of their feet.

The camera zoomed in on one of them. It wasn’t a human. It was a machine, perhaps a robot. Cannons were mounted on its shoulders, guns attached to its forearms. It dropped quickly, landing on the pyramid’s flat top.

Its cannon turned, targeting the cameraman. A blue bolt launched from the cannon and the video ended.

Drew clicked on more videos and by the time he had finished half a dozen, he jumped up and turned off the computer. An invasion? “A damn, no shit invasion?”

Aliens?

Evil extraterrestrials?

It wasn’t just the Chinese invading the United States. Some type of ET’s were invading the entire world. Anderle, that unremitting slime bucket, hadn’t said a danged word.

10

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Slade sat at his desk in his Admiral’s Quarters, watching a holovid taken four hours ago of something that came through on his holocomputer, blaring, IMPORTANT, IMPORTANT.

Before Slade invited the entire government to ride on Starship Atlantis to a new home, he had every room, nook, and cranny on board bugged with special speakers and cameras to watch anything and everything that might alter his plans.

It was setup to alarm Slade when certain trigger words were captured on a mic, such as his name or Craig’s or emergency, and indeed a trigger word had been captured.

In fact, several had.

On the holoscreen, Slade watched Senator Ken Furr sitting at his desk in his suite. Ken waved his hand over his holographic keyboard. The holocomputer snapped on and the desk formed a screen in front of him.

Slade could see TELEGRAM… TELEGRAM… TELEGRAM... flash on Ken’s display.

“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Ken said, under his breath.

“Ken, can we get back to the movie?” asked his wife.

Ken glanced over his shoulder and frowned. Slade could see that a movie was on pause. “Excuse me, dear. Give me a second. This is urgent.”

Ken tapped on the words and a holovid flashed before him, showing scene after scene, communication after communication. Slade and Craig were chatting it up with Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore of the Secret Space Program.

Ken leaned back in his chair and watched the dialogue for several minutes.

“We need you to go over the battle plan, Colonel,” said Lon, clenching his jaw.

“We drop in west and south of the city, away from their turrets,” responded Slade.

Lon spoke through gritted teeth. “Look, Colonel. The inhabitants of Callisto blasted Star Warden – one of the biggest and most fortified ships in our fleet – out of the sky in less than half an hour. How do we know they don’t have more turrets west and south of the city?”

Craig chimed in. “The reconnaissance ship we sent out earlier located the turrets east and north of the city. There’s nothing west or south. Confirmed.”

“You sent a reconnaissance ship without telling me?”

“It was before you arrived, Fleet Admiral,” replied Slade. “Get your head wrapped around this, Lon. We are attacking Callisto with your Secret Space Program squadrons and troops. We can keep you as head honcho or Craig here can take over.”

Lon eyed the president. “You good with your colleague’s plan, Mr. President?”

Craig dipped his head. “I am.”

Lon’s face contorted, his lips quivering in anger. “Then it’s done. We commence drills starting today. We’ll invade four days ahead of your scheduled landing on Callisto. We’ll wipe all races currently residing and fighting on Callisto clean off the face of that moon. Out.”

The holographic monitor blipped off and Ken’s shoulder’s drooped. He straightened in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

Slade imagined what Ken’s thoughts might be: This could not be happening; This wasn’t true; It had to be a joke. Slade had never let anyone other than Craig and Lon know about any civilization living on Callisto, let alone a war currently commencing on that moon.

Ken would be vehemently against jumping into an inner-solar system conflict. The guy was a man of principal. A man who despised war and every political act that sparked deadly conflict.

Tears welled up in Ken’s eyes.

Slade understood Ken’s sadness. Ken didn’t sign up for this mission only to head into war and wipe entire civilizations off the face of Callisto. Slade and Craig had Ken thinking he signed up under a pretense that they were traveling to a currently-uninhabited moon, to setup shop so the rest of humanity could ultimately join them and they could all, collectively, avoid the inevitable climate disaster heading Earth’s way. That was the bill of goods President Martelle had sold to all of the politicians on this ride to one of Jupiter’s moon.

Slade couldn’t help but giggle. It had been a pack of lies from start to finish and Ken’s gut was probably rolling with acid, threatening to eat its way up his gullet.

“What was that, Ken?” Ken’s wife draped her arm over the back of the love seat. Her lips turned down and she straightened her shawl over her shoulders. “Hon, why are you crying?”

Ken wiped his cheek, dismissing her with the dip of his head. Slade had never seen Ken dismiss her. But what went on in a household rarely showed in public, especially with politicians.

Ken clicked the comm line. “Bring up Governor Boz Brown, please.”

“Boz here. What’s up, Ken?”

“Assemble all politicians in the auditorium. We have an emergency meeting straight away. Do not invite the President or Colonel Slade Roberson.”

Slade shook his head, switching off the video and going to the next vid alert. “Naughty man. You’re doing things under my nose, Senator.”

He brought up the next vid, pulling up a scene that occurred only two hours ago.

Slade watched as Ken swiped his badge on Starship Atlantis’s auxiliary engine room’s control panel. The door slid open. The sound of metal against metal screeched across the gigantic room, wheels turning on wheels, and impulse reactors inside long tubes spat lightning against the tube’s glass, splattering electric blue light against the walls.

A woman, with grease smeared across her forehead, goggles too big for her face, and a white, dirty uniform came forward with a wrench in her hand. “Can I help you, Sir?”

“I’m Senator Ken – ”

“I know who you are. Can I help you?”

“Here.” He handed her a folded piece of paper.

She read it over and glanced up at the senator, then took another glance at the letter. She shook her head in disdain. “Hell no. Not happening.”

“I can force you to turn everything off. But, all I’m asking is for you to slow the ship down.”

“That will take us away from our set ETA.” She wiped her cheek, pressing her tongue into the side of her bottom lip, giving him the stink eye. “This ain’t happening, no matter who you are. The orders come from the top. You ain’t the top, man.” She handed him back the letter.

“I’m the top man now.” He whistled and a gang of troops, rifles up, marched into the bay. “You do what we ask or we apprehend you and everyone else in this room.”

Slade shook his head, jerking back. How the hell did Ken get troops so quickly, and easily? He let out a loud grunt and squeezed his forearm tightly, continuing to view the scene before him.

A guy walked up to Ken. The man had greasy, disheveled hair, and wore goggles also too big for his head. He took his goggles off. “I’m the chief here. No one turns these engines off but by the skin off my back.”

“Arrest him,” ordered Ken.

The guy moved backwards, hands up. “Get your measly paws off of me you...you fuck-faces.”

The guards pushed him against the wall and tripped him to the floor, slapping cuffs on his hands.

The woman ran at the guards, throwing fist over fist, slamming a few shots against their backs.

A grunt turned and wrestled her to the floor, then tossed his cuffs to another guard. They cuffed her and hurried her out the room, her screams of injustice echoed through the hall.

They pulled the chief to his feet.

Several of his workers were there, eyes wide, wondering what the hell just happened.

Ken pointed to the workers. “Tell them to slow this ship. If they don’t, we’ll do it ourselves.”

Blood trickled down the chief’s forehead. He jutted his chin out, trembling with anger. He spat on the floor, his eyes cold. He wanted to rip every one of these intruder’s throats out. “To what speed?”

“Half of what we’re doing now.”

“Uncuff me.”

Ken’s lips tightened. “Not until you give that order.”

“The hell I will. This is a mutiny.”

“Take him to his cell,” said Ken.

The guards pushed the chief through the doorway and down the hall. Slade watched as they left with still a dozen troops standing next to Ken.

“Workers, listen up!” Ken shouted. “From orders higher than the president, we are taking this flying boat to half the speed we’re at now. Do you understand? If you don’t, you’ll have to answer to my friends here.” He patted a guard’s shoulder, then walked out of the room.

Slade turned off the computer. “Not good, Ken. Not good at all.”

* * *

Slade rushed the punching bag and took a mighty swing, punishing it with a ferocious blow. He had taken the entire government, heading them straight for a new world. No, it wasn’t a world. It was a moon and the senators and governors onboard were planning a mutiny against Craig and himself.

He went into a roundhouse kick, breaking the bag off its chain. It fell to the floor, dust popping up like a cloud. Slade planted his feet, driving his knee into the middle of the bag. This bag was Jaxx, Rivkah, and Ken all rolled in one and he reared back for an elbow to the top of the bag. He wanted to rip the punching bag apart.

“Stop!” yelled Andrea Cross, a doctor he’d found to replace Doctor Donny, the wise-old man who accidentally took friendly fire during the riot in their underground base, back on Earth. The guy had been a genius, but Andrea Cross was even smarter and more enthused with Slade’s ideas and especially this experiment he was currently conducting...on himself.

Slade stepped back, taking a deep breath. “Why?”

She marched over to a display monitor, studied it, wrote something down on her holographic data pad, then went to the next monitor, repeating the same steps. She shook her head. “No different.”

Slade dropped his chin, anger rising in his chest. “So, Jaxx’s blood is no good. It doesn’t work on me?”

Andrea shrugged.

They had taken Jaxx’s blood – which had given other subjects super-fucking-powers – and injected it into Slade, yet Slade felt very much the same. No difference with movement, power, or speed.

“I don’t give up that easily, Slade. We are missing something. Maybe we shouldn’t have mixed Rivkah’s blood in.”

“Then find what we’re missing, doctor. Mixing the vials should have made me even more powerful. I’ve spent the last two days working my ass off without the results we are looking for.”

“Results don’t always come right away, Colonel. You may expect the impossible with the snap of your fingers, but I’m patient for it.” Andrea tapped her fingernail against her teeth, thinking out loud. “What does Jaxx do before he exhibits his power?”

Slade shrugged. “Bring up the cameras in my admiral quarters and reverse the loop. The record will show he kicked Shaughnessy’s and Fox’s ass. Mine, too. You’ll see how he threw me and Shaughnessy across the room. That – ”

The door to the examination lab slid open.

Slade swung around, shocked and irritated at the sudden intrusion. A flash of adrenaline rose without his control, his body convulsed, his head whipped back as a sharp energy leapt from his chest and toward the door.

Craig stood there, his arms by his side, nonchalant until he was picked up off the ground and thrown backward. He flung his arms out when he hit a wall, yelping like a whipped dog, then slid down, landing squarely on his ass, his eyes like saucers.

“Holy shit,” said Slade, tripping and falling, landing on his side. The energy that left him had a recoil to it.

Andrea rushed to Slade’s side, placing both hands on his slippery, perspiring skin, his body scorching hot. She pulled her hands back. “It’s your emotions. Your emotions are the switch that will power…well, your new powers. That’s what we’ll start working with.”

“What the hell was that?” said Craig, cringing and rubbing the back of his head as he got to his feet.

Slade and Andrea looked at each other, keeping their faces as straight and tight as their mouths.

Craig walked into the lab, his nostrils flaring. “What the hell is going on here?” Rage filled his eyes like fire in a wood stove. “You better tell me or I swear I’ll throw you both behind bars right now.”

“We’re testing a wave length weapon invisible to the naked eye,” replied Slade, keeping his eyes centered on Craig’s.

Craig’s gaze swept across the room. “I see no weapon.”

“In the computers, Craig. It’s a frequency emitting –”

“Slade, I didn’t become President because I’m an idiot. I can smell a lie a mile away.” Craig moved his gaze to Andrea. “What are you testing?” He threw a fist in his hand.

Andrea looked at Slade.

Slade cleared his throat. “You’re dismissed, doctor.”

She dipped her head and backed out of the room, purposely inspecting her holographic pad instead of Craig.

Craig went to stop her, most likely to show her who was in charge and that it wasn’t Slade. Instead, Craig smacked his hands together. “Do not usurp my authority again. You don’t run this ship. I do. No experiments of any kind, Colonel, shall go on without my knowledge or consent from this point forward. That was one of our agreements in the beginning and if you go against that agreement again, I’ll have your balls in a bear trap. Understand?” He widened his stance, chest out – an effective technique to intimidate a politician. Sometimes it worked on high military personnel as well. Only sometimes. They were used to being bullied, so many of them – especially high-ranking officers – stood their ground.

Slade chuckled. “At ease, President.” He grabbed a towel off a chair and dried himself off. “You see, Craig, we don’t have time to talk over everything on my mind or everything I want to...uh...figure out. We are almost to Callisto.”

Craig bit his lip and pointed at the open entryway into the lab. “You realize you and I are not the only ones who know about the pseudo attack that we’re directing with the Secret Space Program.”

Slade sighed, pretending not to know what he watched only an hour ago. He was going to deal with it his way, not Craig’s. “Okay, what’s the drama now?”

“They’ve caught wind...the entire government on this ship...and I don’t know how.”

Slade dropped the towel, his arms flexing, veins popping out of his neck, again, doing his best academy award winning act. “They know about the impending attack? They don’t know we’re using it as a ruse, as a false flag event, I assume. But you wait how long to tell me? Fucking lecture me about experiments…”

Craig handed Slade a piece of paper, the same paper that Ken handed to the woman in the auxiliary engine room. “This somehow landed on my desk. We have a mutiny on our hands.”

Slade read the letter and walked to the window across from the room. “We’re slowing down?” He already knew.

“Yes.”

“Fuck that barrel of monkeys.” He didn’t think he’d do this so soon, but Craig was in the know, so he pressed a button on the wall, buzzing the onsite Private First Class through the comm line. “Get Senator Ken Furr here, now!”

11

Leonia, Canis Major ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

“We’re going all out to get these monsters where it hurts. They won’t understand what hit them. What comes next is unknown. We win? We lose? We can’t say. All we can say is we do battle against the Agadon with our all. Sync up!” said Zara.

Jaxx was inside a combat-mech. It had several blasters on its forearms, dozens of missile launchers on its chest, pulse lasers mounted on its shoulders, and a giant sword holstered to its back, the hilt sticking up above the mech’s head. The cockpit – inside the combat-mech’s lion’s head – had a large window that wrapped from the front to the sides of the combat-mech’s face.

“Jaxx, you’re the only one not syncing up. We can’t leave until all units are linked together through our nexus,” explained Zara.

“How?”

“Behind you is a Kepi, a hair harness. Put it on.”

Jaxx twisted in his seat, eyeing something sticky. It looked like a jelly fish stuck to the wall. “The slimy thing?”

“It’s not slimy, Jaxx. Put it on.”

“I guess this is something I didn’t learn about in my ten-minute training.” He rolled his eyes. How would ten minutes give him everything he would need to know about combat, let alone driving one of these massive machines? Still, he couldn’t not do his duty. He’d brought this hell down upon them. The least he could do was to slap a jellyfish on his head.

Jaxx unclasped the helmet from the bulkhead panel. A gold wire of some-sort was attached to it and rolled out like a hose when Jaxx put the helmet over his head.

A shock of electricity bolted down his brain, through the central nervous system, connecting to every synapse he knew he had and many more he thought were non-existent. He stiffened and a dynamic blue vortex encompassed his vision. He lifted his chin. He unconsciously sucked in a gulp of air. He spasmed as a charge went into his sacrum. A moment later, everything settled and his vision normalized.

“Your Kepi connects with your hair. Your hair is an antenna to your psyche, your mind, and your heart. Your mech is now synced up with you and you with us. The rest I do not need to repeat, as you have learned all you need to know in your training download.”

Jaxx checked over his combat-mech stabilization screen. Everything checked out fine. He pressed back and forth on his gyro lever and his mech bent at the knees and then straightened. He smirked. The power was like nothing he’d felt before. Screw being an archeologist, he was a warrior.

The gyros were online, balancing his hips and torso and were well oiled. He checked his instrument panel and flinched. The display readings extended outward, then slowly poured through his eyes and into his brain. His mind erupted in images, gauges, and numbers in his language, everything telling him that he was good to go: heat syncs on-line and stable, weapons fully charged, missile batteries fully loaded, and the Ashanti sword – medium-width sword at the hilt and three times as wide from mid-sword to the tip – was sharpened and magnetized to his combat-mech’s back. And gyro-joints were at full strength.

He leaned back and flicked on the mech’s engines. A thunderous roar zipped through his cockpit, then quieted, purring like a cat.

“Defensive assault ready to commence,” said Zara.

The ceiling cracked in two, opening slowly. Dirt and brush fell into the underground facility like sand into an hour glass. The two-suns shone above, lighting everything, including Jaxx. Wouldn’t this give away their position?

Several Agadon starfighters flew overhead, their heavy rocket boosters spat out blue fire.

Jaxx’s console told him the Starfighters flew at thousands of miles per hour. It was a wonder he could see them at all. Must be the mech-tech at work.

Jaxx tapped some buttons on the console, bringing up an Agadon starfighter blueprint. A holographic image of a starfighter popped up and spun in front of him. The craft had long wings that curved ninety-degrees halfway and jutted forward several feet past the craft’s nose.

“Commence!” yelled Zara.

Each Leonian combat-mech crouched, then jumped, igniting their boosters, blasting out of the opening.

Jaxx pulled a lever toward him, putting his mech into a crouch, then released the lever and pressed his mech’s feet boosters at the same time, shooting him out of the underground facility. He lifted over the lip and landed on a wheat field, easily towering above it. He lunged back and vibrated violently as an energy cluster bombarded his position, nearly toppling him over the lip and back into the facility below.

He balanced himself and checked his diagnostics. The energy cluster had singed his mech’s legs, melting a thin layer of armor. Nothing catastrophic.

He took a step forward and halted, spinning his cannon barrels online, readying to step around a Leonian mech in front of him.

Instead, he shielded his eyes when a bright explosion ripped into the Leonian combat-mech, armor splayed everywhere, smashing against the field below.

The Leonian mech moved backward, absorbing the shock. A sizzling blue electricity spiraled from its crown to its heavily-armored boots. It lurched forward, the electricity becoming more intense, and in a flash, the Leonian mech raced across the battlefield, dodging intact huts, and unsheathed its sword. The more steps it took, the more of a blur the mech became.

The Leonian mech slammed into an Agadon mech. The Agadon wavered as the Leonian dug its sword through the Agadon’s torso. Fire erupted and sparks shot out. Slabs of armor dropped to the ground. Puffs of smoke rose where each slab fell. The Leonian mech slashed upward, slicing through the Agadon mech’s chest, neck, and head, sparks and fire splashing against the Leonian mech, like blood.

The Agadon teetered but it was so compromised, the Leonian only needed to swat its palm onto the Agadon’s shoulder to push it over and onto its side. The Agadon’s metal crunched on the ground, and a secondary glow of fire burst toward the heavens.

An alert signaled in Jaxx’s cockpit. Adrenalin shot through him. He scanned his immediate environment, then took a second sweep a little further from his position.

An Agadon combat-mech landed a clip from him, pointed its arm in Jaxx’s direction and shot dozens of energy bursts.

Jaxx’s mech reeled back, its shoulder absorbing the shock. His cockpit shook and his torso twisted, while its hips and legs remained planted in place. He narrowed his eyes and a moment of confusion rushed over him. Who were these people, these Agadon? Why do they feel like they have the right to invade someone’s home and take it as their own? They were no worse than the Kelhoon.

He twisted back around.

The Agadon was running in his direction.

Jaxx lunged forward and went into a run himself.

The Agadon lifted his mech’s arm and a blaster popped up, throwing several energy blasts Jaxx’s way.

Jaxx side stepped and in the next moment, he lifted his mech’s arm and smacked a fist into the Agadon’s outstretched arm, then zipped two shoulder mounted laser beams into the enemy mech’s belly. Armor melted and fell, pelting the ground, running off the mech like hot butter.

The Agadon jumped back, its shoulder cannon’s twirled and recoiled, sending an avalanche of energy bolts at Jaxx.

Jaxx anticipated and ducked. He pressed a holographic weapon’s button on the console, demagnetizing his sword, letting it drop toward the ground. He brought his mech’s arm behind his back, catching the sword at its hilt, and swung it at the Agadon’s knees.

A waterfall of sparks shot out as the gyro joints failed, the sword cutting through, toppling the Agadon to its back. The ground shook on impact.

Jaxx crouched and jumped into the air, landing flat footed on the Agadon’s mechanized chest, caving the armor inward. A crunching sound reverberated through Jaxx’s mech’s legs and entered the cockpit. It was loud and painful to his ears.

He shifted his mech’s view screen from forward to holovid cams near his mech’s feet, seeing green fluids sludging out of the mech’s chassis, exposing gold and silver wires bundled and torn in half.

He switched holocam views and dug the tip of his sword into the mech’s neck, severing the head. A sea of flames exploded as wires, valves, and hydraulic dynamos split in two, charring the ground.

He picked up the head and held it in front of his cockpit, eying the dickhead enemy mech pilot, someone just like Slade or worse yet, like Fox and the Kelhoon slime that invaded Taiyo when Jaxx was in the Secret Space Program.

To his surprise, the Agadon was human-looking with wider eyes, gray-blue skin and no hair. He was hooked into the mech via several hoses and wires that dug into the top of his head. He looked taller and wider than the average human, his neck only a few inches in length.

The Agadon bared his teeth, screaming obscenities that Jaxx couldn’t hear.

The Agadon threw his fist in the air.

Jaxx dropped him, instinctively knowing what was coming next and jumped back. The head detonated and exploded into a thousand pieces, spinning Jaxx off his feet and landing him onto his mech’s hands and knees. His eyes widened when he saw a handful of Leonian warriors glaring up at him in the wheat field, their translucent shields up, covering themselves.

One dipped his head at Jaxx and waved his hand forward, ordering Jaxx and his team to follow him into battle.

Jaxx pushed off the ground, standing his mech upright just as an enemy starfighter zoomed across the sky and descended toward the troops Jaxx had almost crushed. The starfighter’s cannons lit up, strafing the ground, barreling in on the oncoming Leonian troops.

Jaxx adjusted his targeting. His mech’s chest wined as the missile casing in his mech’s chest opened. He pulled the trigger.

Whooooshka! Whooooshka!

His hip gyros acclimated to the missile’s push back. A second later, the starfighter went up in a ball of flames.

Jaxx ducked as another starfighter flew through the fireball, ions blasting out of its wings. He lifted his sword up, jabbing through the starfighter’s belly just as it flew overhead, and flung the starfighter across the field, lucky to hit another Agadon mech heading his way.

He stood, letting loose everything he had at the mech, blanketing its chest with blaster fire, laser cannon beams, and dozens of missiles.

Fire splintered outward from the opposing mech and Jaxx ran forward, lifted his sword over his shoulder and threw it at an immense speed, digging the tip into the Mech’s cockpit where it glided through to the other side, cutting the Agadon cockpit in half.

The mech went lifeless and fell over, steam puffing out of the mech in all directions.

Jaxx continued to race forward, dodging enemy fire until he reached his sword. He pulled it out of the enemy and swung it over his shoulder, magnetizing it to his back.

Jaxx took a breath and gathered himself. The battlefield – which only minutes before had been full of grain fields, huts, and barren land – were ablaze. Smoke billowed everywhere. Fallen Leonians carpeted the ground, along with enemy and friendly mechs. Those still standing were dodging and firing, puncturing through mech armor, evading starfighter strafing runs, and throwing everything they had at the enemy.

The ground rumbled and a large craft the size of a star carrier with a lion’s head at its bow lifted out of the ground on the horizon. In the sky, starfighter battle raged all around, pitting Leonian starfighters – thin craft with two small wings that lined both sides – against Agadon starfighters.

The heavens thundered.

The large Leonian star carrier rotated its turrets, targeting an inbound Agadon ship the size of a destroyer, sending purple energy bursts its way. The Agadon ship turned, exposing its side, just as the Leonian ship’s blasts tore through the Agadon’s starboard side. Fire spewed and the ship tilted and dipped, righting itself seconds later.

“Get to battle, peach-face!” demanded Zara over the com link.

“Right.” Jaxx spun around, seeing two Agadon mech’s with their backs to him a hundred yards away, fighting with a Leonian mech.

He pressed his mech forward and catapulted himself into the air. He pointed his feet toward the center of each one of the enemy mech’s backs and slammed his feet into their armor, fracturing one mech, pushing him face down into the ground.

His foot impacted the other mech, though only managing to push it aside.

A sword appeared out of nowhere and plunged into the Agadon mech’s heart. The Agadon lost power and fell to its knees. The Leonian mech pulled the sword out and dipped her head to Jaxx. “Thanks for the assist.” It was Zara. “Now, stay alive because if we can defeat these Agadon scum, we can help you fulfill the prophecy.”

“No pro –” His mech’s feet were swiped out from under him and his cockpit shivered as Jaxx’s mech landed on its back. An Agadon mech appeared over him and pointed a blaster cannon at his cockpit. The cannon’s barrel reddened and a sizzling hot energy charge expelled.

12

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

“I’d do anything for Jaxx,” said Shaughnessy. “He told you that if Slade betrayed us, and according to you Slade has...” Shaughnessy looked at the senator for a moment, seeing if Ken was telling the truth. “Then Jaxx wants us to reroute the entire Secret Space Program and this starship back to Earth?”

“Yes, Jaxx and I spoke before he escaped.” Ken was lying, that much Shaughnessy could tell. There was the lack of eye contact, the pupils dilating, his blinking when speaking. But what if he wasn’t lying, what if Jaxx really said this to Ken? Jaxx was his friend, pretty much his only friend. He’d give his left kidney without hesitation if the guy needed it.

“We want to reroute this starship to Earth. But send SSP’s fleet to Uranus,” said Ken. “However, we don’t know how to do it, how to hack into the SSP system, but we think you do.”

“Who is we?” Shaugnessy had a healthy distrust of all politicians. They only had to open their mouths to lie. He and Jaxx were agreed on that point.

Ken sat at his desk, hands folded in his lap. He swiped his finger over his desk and a holographic screen popped up. “Me and the rest of the government officials on Starship Atlantis.”

This was a little too much. He spent years working to make this mission to Callisto a reality. He wasn’t going to divert the entire mission just because some senator – namely Ken Furr – was getting homesick. Again, maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was telling the truth. “I need proof that Slade betrayed us.”

“I suspected as much.” Ken typed something on his HDC and motioned for Shaughnessy to take a look. A recording of Kajka Akbak, the Kelhoon leader, and Slade materialized on the screen.

Shaughnessy almost fell over, pointing at the screen. Shock rocked his system. He couldn’t believe what he was looking at. “What is that?”

“It’s an extraterrestrial. A race known as the Kelhoon. If you ask me anything more about them, I won’t know.” Ken turned the volume up. “Listen.”

The screen shifted to Akbak. He sat straighter, and for an instant his head and thick neck moved back and forth like a snake. “Koojka navonja sinlanja.”

The camera switched to Slade. “You get the envoy here soon, and I’ll make sure it passes our security. It’ll arrive safely in one of Starship Atlantis’s lower decks. Eventually, your boys can feast on some of our people here, but the rest of the troops, scientists, and politicians are going to your factory farms.”

Okbak hissed. “Jonjookana foonjayjay.”

Slade raised his chin, shaking his head. “The envoy will be safe. I assure you.” He gave a chuckle. “For a dominant galactic race hell bent on herding my race for food and slavery, you’re sure paranoid about the little things.”

“Moonkaja.” Akbak bowed his head and the screen went black. The HDC’s holographic screen quickly evaporated, turning off.

“I don’t understand what I just saw there. That’s a damn alien Being.” Shaugnessy’s mouth was agape. “I knew they existed, but I haven’t seen one.”

“I had the same reaction. But that’s not what’s important here. What’s your answer? Will you help us?”

Shaughnessy paused. “What is in the envoy the Kelhoon are sending?”

Ken lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “I wish I knew. We intercepted this a week ago from an encrypted source. We decoded it an hour ago. Our decision on what to do next was quick. That decision involved you.”

Shaughnessy didn’t want to do this. It pitted him against Slade and in the real world, the world he lived in, that was never a good matchup. Pit him against Slade in the computer game League of Champions and he’d wipe Slade clean off the map in ten minutes.

This wasn’t League of Champions.

Ken stood, hand extended, his heavy wrinkles creasing his care-worn face. “What do you say? Can you hack into this ship and the Secret Space Program’s fleet?”

Shaughnessy huffed. “I don’t want to do this, but if he’s about to screw us all over and if this was truly Jaxx’s wishes, then I must. I can change SSP’s flight plan and lock it, and I can change ours and lock it, so no one with basic computer knowledge would ever see what I’d done.” He grabbed Ken’s hand and shook it.

Ken cleared his throat just as Shaughnessy was walking to the door. “You’re doing a great service to your country.”

Shaughnessy nodded, not able to count how many times he’d heard such nonsense before. “I’ll do my best, Senator.”

13

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Rivkah hung over the edge of the cliff, her fingers holding onto a bush. Its roots were giving way. If she fell, she’d be dead. There was no doubt about it.

“Fox, help.” Her voice had a tremor and her eyes were glassed over in fear. This was the first time, in a long time, that she had no control. It was up to someone else to help her. Someone in whom she had no trust. Someone who’d screwed her friends over more than once.

Fox crouched on one knee and leaned over, purposely flicking white and gray gravel in her face. He put his hand behind his ear, acting like he couldn’t hear her. “What was that, Riv? I couldn’t quite hear you. You want what?”

“You bastard. You callous piece of shit.” The brush gave way an inch and she tipped back more. Rivkah quickly inhaled. She was a dead woman hanging by her own hand.

“Oh, you want me to help you?”

If she could take out her phaser and shoot the son of a bitch right where he crouched, she would. But, again, she needed help more than she needed to end this prick’s life.

“Grab my wrist. Pull me to safety...please...Richard.”

Fox stood, hands balled in a fist. “Aw, wouldn’t you like that?”

“I die and you probably die as well. We need you, Jaxx, me and her. It’s that simple. After that, you can try and kill me.”

Fox scratched his temple, glancing over his shoulder and back at her a couple of times, making light of the situation.

It was true, if the prophecy was correct, this moon and these Atlanteans needed Fox, Rivkah, Bogle, and Jaxx in order to save them all, including themselves. Fox had to see that.

“I’ve tried to kill you so many times, Miss Rivkah Ravenwood. This time, however, it looks like I’m finally going to get my wish.”

Rivkah’s stomach fluttered and her blood drained from her face. He was right. Fox wasn’t going to help and he somehow got the upper hand, and this time he didn’t even plan the upper hand.

She closed her eyes. A cool breeze brushed across her face, the sound of silence surrounded her. This would be the last breath she’d ever take, the last time she’d ever close her eyes.

She pulled up her power, her Chi. Could it lift her in the air, make her fly? She had to try. She concentrated on her feet, rushing up energy through her legs. The root slipped. She gasped, her Chi fading.

A soft cracking sound ripped across the canyon and the bush completely gave way. Instinctively, her other hand came up, grasping for a rock, another bush, something, anything.

It caught air.

Rivkah let out a blood curdling scream as she began to fall.

She sucked in a big breath when she stopped in mid-air, her forearm being squeezed, her body lifting up like she was as light as a rag doll.

Fox was on his stomach, his fingers folded around Rivkah’s arm. Small pebbles fell off the cliff as he went into a squat and walked backward, dragging her over the cliff’s rocky lip.

He let go and she lay there, panting, her cheek against the cold stone. “Why did you do that?” she said, almost out of breath.

“You said I could kill you later. Give me your word.”

She nodded, pushing herself up, then dropped immediately back on the ground as an explosion, accompanied by a small mushroom cloud, surged upward in the north. Rivkah covered her eyes. The blinding reds and yellows glowed across the horizon. The ground shook and the roar pummeled across the land. A great wind picked up and sand and rock rushed against them, sliding over the cliff and down into the canyon.

Seconds later it died down.

Fox growled. “The Kelhoon are at it again. Looks like they’re attacking another city to the north.”

Rivkah eyed Fox. “The Atlanteans have no chance, especially with the Kelhoon and Slade coming with the SSP.”

“Nope.”

They stood, dusting themselves off.

Rivkah eyed the north. The entire hillside was lit up like glowing coals. “Let’s find Bogle.”

“Once we find Bogle and get her back into our custody, then I have my eyes on Slade. I can’t wait until he gets here. I’m going to punish that man to hell and back.”

Rivkah pushed Fox out of the way just as an energy bolt flew by. She unholstered her phaser, letting a few shots go off wildly.

Fox pulled out his phaser, aiming and pulling the trigger several times.

Rivkah rolled to the side, aiming in the direction of the first shots fired. She held the trigger down and her gun recoiled as phaser blast after phaser blast erupted out of the muzzle.

Another fizz of electricity buzzed through the air as two more shots went wide, almost hitting Rivkah.

“Boulders,” said Fox.

Rivkah nodded and bolted for the boulders. She skidded behind one, her gun up, her finger on the trigger. She glanced at Fox, already behind another boulder across the way.

He eyed Rivkah, pointing his index finger and middle finger toward his eyes. He then held up four fingers.

She rolled to the edge of the boulder and looked around it. A blast came her way and she whipped back, hugging the boulder.

Four Kelhoon, all larger than life, their half-human, half-lizard faces scowling as they slowly moved into position, their large energy rifles aimed forward, ready to blow Rivkah and Fox out of existence. Or, worse yet, do what they usually did and take them as slaves to sell them across the galaxy or fatten them up like cattle, anchoring them inside cages, ready to sell to the hungriest lizard-face. All in the name of making galactic money, and lots of it.

Rivkah picked up a rock and threw it over her shoulder and high into the air, then slid to her stomach, and aimed her phaser, positioning most of her body behind the large rock, giving her cover.

A Kelhoon energy charge cracked across the wind and the rock Rivkah threw into the air splintered into a thousand pieces.

Perfect.

Rivkah pulled her trigger twice, quickly inserting two phaser slugs between a Kelhoon’s eyes. He dropped his rifle and slumped to the ground. The other Kelhoons scrambled, finding boulders to hide behind as well.

Rivkah ran across the ridge and jumped behind another boulder. She was now closer to those lizard heads, ready to find them a nice hole to bury them in.

She eyed Fox across the way and held up three fingers. He nodded and closed his eyes, pressing his palms against the large boulder he stood behind. His hands started vibrating and the rock fizzed, smoke billowing up from his hands.

The rock swayed and lifted and Fox’s face reddened. The veins in his neck popped out as he attempted to lift the rock to throw it across the slated ground and hit the Kelhoon’s position thirty yards away.

The rock flew forward and Rivkah held her breath, then rolled her eyes when the rock landed less than five feet away. “Doofus.”

“Rivkah! Fox! Stand down.”

Rivkah looked around her boulder.

Bogle was standing fifteen yards away, the three remaining Kelhoon stood behind her, rifles up, ready to fire.

Rivkah pressed her back against the rock. “Hell, no. You tell your lizard, shit for brain friends to drop their weapons. Then we’ll talk.”

“Done,” said Bogle.

“Are you serious?” asked Rivkah. It couldn’t be that easy.

“Yes.”

Rivkah eyed Fox, then nodded.

Fox pulled his holster around to the back of his body, touching it against his sacrum, and holstered his phaser.

Rivkah mimicked him, giving Fox a quick smile. She glanced around the boulder again. The Kelhoon indeed had their guns on the ground.

“Coming out,” said Fox, arms by his side.

Rivkah cautiously walked around the rock, keeping her eyes off of Bogle and onto the Kelhoon. They took several steps forward.

“Thank you, Rivkah and Fox. It’s time – ”

Fox reached around his back and curled his fingers around the phaser’s grip. In a quick draw, he riddled Bogle with several phaser bolts. She screamed, holding her heart and fell, purple blood gushing out of her chest.

The Kelhoon drew hidden guns from behind their backs as well, opening fire. Fox rolled away, aimed his weapon at them and pulled the trigger.

A Kelhoon fell.

Rivkah rushed forward, dodging a shot, then another. She slid on her back, her gun pointing at the two Kelhoons left standing and let loose. A Kelhoon reeled back as Rivkah poked a crater in its skull, then shifted her sights to the other Kelhoon.

She pulled the trigger.

Click.

She pulled again.

Click. Click. Click.

“Fuck!”

The Kelhoon lowered his gun in Rivkah’s direction, blasting energy spheres out of his rifle’s barrel.

Rivkah spun away. Rocks splintered from the energy bolts’ impact and pelted against Rivkah’s side and back.

She moved to her feet and ran behind a boulder, pressing her back against the rock.

Her breath came heavy and she put her hand on her chest, telling herself to calm down. She gazed at the ground all around her, waiting for a shadow to loom, telling her how close the Kelhoon was and from which direction he was coming.

Silence filled the air.

Where was everyone? Did they get Fox?

Fox guffawed, letting out an exasperated breath. “They don’t even try to hide it anymore.”

“What?” Rivkah moved around the boulder, eying all the fallen Kelhoon soldiers. Fox must have ended the last one before Rivkah hid behind the boulder.

She walked toward the dead bodies. “What do you mean?” She stood over a purple, puss-filled mess surrounding a Zompawan, its silver body lay lifeless, its green horse-like hair covered in its blood, and its shallow, thin eyes wide open, dead as a doornail.

“That Zompawan. I noticed that the last time the Kelhoons used them when we tried to take over planet Taiyo. The Zompawans didn’t want to live as Kelhoon slaves anymore. They were practically giving themselves away, shape-shifting into whatever, whenever the Kelhoon used them, and purposely using the wrong vocal resonance. It was almost like they wanted to die.”

Rivkah nudged its leg with her foot. “Or set the Kelhoon up to lose. This one, though, was good. It looked just like Bogle when it shape-shifted, except with an old woman’s voice. Too bad it couldn’t stay shape-shifted so we don’t have to see its ugly-ass face.”

“Yep, damn ugly.”

Zzzzzzzziph-kacha!

An energy dome popped up around them. Fox and Rivkah stepped back and went into a defensive stance, their weapons up in anticipation.

“Looks like we were the dumb ones,” said Rivkah.

Up ahead, past the energy surrounding them, were several Kelhoon approaching. The leader put his arm up and the rest of the Kelhoon drew their weapons.

The leader licked his lips. “Kja Oovgov!”

14

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

He saw the cameras in the corners of the room the moment the Chinese soldiers burst through the oval office’s French doors. Drew put his hands up after just turning off the computer. He was a dumbass. Another rookie mistake. Of course there would be surveillance, monitoring every pocket of this facility.

“Don’t shoot.” His eyes were like saucers, his mind moving in and out of his current predicament and the videos he had just seen.

General Lin Yu pushed a guard aside. “You not obey.” His eyes were cold. “You die.”

All Drew could think of to say was, Thanks mom for leading me here. But he refrained. It wasn’t his mom’s fault. It was his. His thoughts led him here, his subconscious obviously using his mind to mimic his mother’s voice. But why would he lead himself to die? How could he possibly know Anonymous was the passcode to Anderle’s root file?

And who was invading the goddamn world and why wasn’t anyone out there fighting them? Shit, all other questions were now background noise.

A guard grabbed Drew and spun him around, putting cuffs on him, the cold steel squeezing hard against Drew’s wrists.

“What’s going on?” said Anderle, walking in, Lord of the Rings robe on, yawning. “You woke me up.” He stopped in his tracks when he saw cuffs on Drew. He bared his teeth at the general. “What are you doing? We didn’t talk about this.”

The guard pushed Drew forward. Drew dug in his heels. “Why didn’t you tell me? A global invasion is happening right now. We need to get these Chinese, all Chinese and our military and any other country that still has a standing army, and mobilize them to confront the threat.”

“How did –” Anderle glanced at his computer. “You son of a bitch.” He reared back and punched Drew smack in the chin.

Drew lost balance and was held up by the guard. He shook his head like a dog, doing his best to get the punch’s sting off his face. “You hid that shit from me? This entire time I’ve been down here, aliens were flying through our atmosphere?”

Anderle looked satisfied. “Yep.” He cocked his head toward the door. “Get him out of here.”

“Dǎjiǎ zǒngtǒng,” ordered Yu.

Anderle frowned. “What?”

A guard pushed Anderle against a wall and wrestled him to the ground.

Anderle grunted and pushed the soldier off, only to have the man come down with a knee into his stomach. Anderle curled into a ball and his assailant grabbed his hair, pulling Anderle to his feet. Pain swept across his face.

They pushed Anderle back on the ground face first, slapping cuffs on him. They picked him up and shoved him against a wall. Anderle, face scratched, glanced up at a camera, mouthing, “Plan B. Plan B.”

Drew caught it, not understanding what Anderle was doing. He curled his lips, angry at the man who led him here, who trapped him in this White House cave, wanting to shove dirt in his eye when he was already down. “Your fucking Chinese friends here really know how to stay loyal, huh?”

Yu planted his hand hard against Drew’s chest and pushed him against the wall, next to Anderle. “Enough this. We not need you. You die.” He pulled out his semi-automatic, cocked it, and pressed it against Drew’s forehead.

15

Leonia, Canis Major ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

Everything was in slow motion. The Agadon mech’s cannon barrel turned a molten red. The muzzle sucked in a few feet, then pushed out as an energy blast spiraled through the tube and exited the tip.

Jaxx raised his mech’s arm to block the blast, only to hit the Agadon mech’s leg, halting Jaxx’s arm from moving any further.

A red, fiery streak shot down toward his cockpit and Jaxx let go of his control stick and put his hands up to shield his eyes from the inevitable.

A bright light enveloped his cockpit accompanied by a bwooooom!

Chunks of metal fell against Jaxx’s cockpit window and his mech’s chest.

He touched his body, patting his face, his chest, his legs. Was he alive?

Out of the corner of his eye, he glimpsed a spinning Leonian Starfighter, the back portion of its fuselage, rudder and vertical stabilizers in flames, torn apart after absorbing the Agadon mech’s shot, essentially saving Jaxx’s life. It took a hard dip and plummeted into a wheat field. A ball of fire rose from the ground.

Jaxx launched several missiles at the Agadon mech’s crotch. Several hit on target, crumbling pieces of armor, hip stabilizer joints, and connecting rods onto his mech’s chest. For a moment, he took his eyes off the steaming, twisted pile of metal standing above him, but only long enough to grab his sword and swing it at the mech’s shin. Screeching metal against metal vibrated through his cockpit along with a resounding clap as Jaxx severed the mech’s lower leg.

The enemy mech fell to the side and Jaxx rolled his mech out of the way and pushed himself into a standing position. He glared at the fallen mech, sword in his hand, blasters aimed at the downed Agadon.

The Agadon mech, its midsection melted, wires hanging out, and its lower leg gone, rotated its cannon, blasting an ion charge at Jaxx.

Jaxx spun, avoiding the blast. He took a powerful step forward, his foot crushing the Agadon mech’s shoulder. Sparks fizzed and curled around Jaxx’s mech’s foot. Jaxx gripped his sword with both hands, lifted it high, and plunged his sword into the mech’s chest. The Agadon mech twitched. All lights in the mech’s cockpit went offline.

“Fall back!” came Zara.

“Why?” questioned Jaxx. They had the upper hand. Falling back would be a critical mistake. He took one look at the battle field and saw why. A hundred or so Agadon mech’s were falling from the sky, coming in for a landing.

“If we don’t get you safely back from where you came from, none of us in this galaxy have a glimmer of hope,” responded Zara. “You must fulfill what you were born to do.”

“Got it,” replied Jaxx.

Jaxx and his new friends, or whatever they were, were outnumbered and from the heap of dead Agadon’s and dead Leonian’s scattered across the battlefield, he could tell it had be a furious battle.

These Leonians didn’t have a chance. And if they didn’t have a chance, then him fulfilling the prophecy didn’t have a chance either. Being dead wouldn’t get Jaxx closer to his ultimate goal.

Jaxx turned, following the racing Leonian mechs, heading for a hill covered with three pyramids. Every so often, a Leonian mech would pick up a handful of running Leonian warriors, cradling them in their arms, and protecting them from incoming fire.

“Where are we going?” inquired Jaxx, his heart pumping, his adrenaline soaring.

“Follow us. And pick up some of our troops, will ya’, fuzz face?”

Jaxx slowed and scooped up a handful of Leonian Warriors who were carrying bamboo rifles and large photon cannons. He brought them in toward his chest, holding them as he’d hold a baby. He took fast strides, pounding footstep upon footstep over the hard earth, passing the burned wheat fields and onto dry grasses and high desert terrain.

A video popped up on his screen, showing the troops he’d picked up now tapping buttons onto his mech’s chest. Several compartments opened up. They each pulled out metallic clasps connected to thick cable and attached it to the chains that crisscrossed their back. The cable was hooked into the mech, preventing the warriors from plummeting to their death, if they slipped or were somehow thrown from the mech.

An alert went off. He glanced at another screen in his cockpit.

“We have incoming,” he informed Zara.

“I’ve informed your troops and they are already on it,” replied Zara.

“My troops?”

“The ones that are in your arms, peachy.”

Before Jaxx could reply, the gang of troops climbed up his mech’s chest, grasping one hand hold after another, while still being attached to the cables – cables that elongated the farther the troops scaled up his chest.

And the warriors were fast. One by one they reached his shoulder, got on one knee and aimed their photon cannons at the missiles. Blue flames zipped out of their barrels, the gun’s concussion pushing the warriors backward and into the air, the cable immediately sucking them back into Jaxx’s mech’s arms.

One missile, two missiles, and then a half a dozen missiles vanished on his screen, downed by the Leonian soldiers.

“They are still coming.” The hair stood on the back of his neck. It was a primal fear-reaction; something he had no control over. Another half a dozen missiles were heading toward him and hundreds more en-route to the remainder of the retreating Leonian mechs.

“Yes, we’re not out of this yet,” responded Zara.

The attackers, the Agadon, were AI with bad programming, according to Zara, and that was all Jaxx knew. Why were they attacking the Leonians in the first place?

Jaxx’s soldiers trudged their way back up to his shoulder, crouched, and were pushed off the shoulder when their cannons released blue photon blasts. Again, the cables sucked them back into Jaxx’s arms.

He checked his screen. One by one, the missiles vanished.

“Damn. They are goo – ”

A blast dug into the back of a mech running next to him. Armor and fire burst outward and the mech lurched forward. Flames like a tidal wave leapt over the mech’s head. It lost all function and fell forward, it’s legs and arms going limp. The soldiers he was carrying bailed left and right just as the mech went head first into the ground. The soldier’s cut their cords, landing in a somersault and popping immediately to their feet, avoiding secondary blasts exploding from the downed mech.

Jaxx shifted to the right and, still cradling his warriors in one arm, bent down and put his arm out for the downed mech’s troops. They latched on to his arm and Jaxx brought them in toward his chest, then raced forward toward the hill.

“Commence opening,” said Zara.

The ground rumbled, shaking his mech with every step he took. A portion of the hill cracked in half, opening wide, exposing a creamy interior on the inside, with large columns extending to the ceiling, starfighters lined up in the back.

“Jaxx, head into the opening. We’ll see you when you get there. Out.”

Jaxx rushed forward, his heat gauge showing the mech was close to overheating. Jaxx assumed most of the mech’s had the same issue as they ran for their lives.

A beep told him he was wrong. According to his quick, download training he had forgotten one vital component with running a mech. When the gauge was at half the heat it was now, the mech must release heat syncs, which were overloaded batteries that stored heat pressure for the benefit of the mech. If too many batteries were full, the mech was supposed to automatically release a heat sync here and there. And his combat-mech had either malfunctioned or it was being an asshole and refusing to release the heat syncs.

He pressed a button, manually releasing them.

Nothing occurred.

He pressed again.

Again, nothing.

“Dammit,” he tapped on his heat gauge. It was nearing red and his mech was slowing, overheating. Yet, he was only a hundred yards from the opening in the hill. “Don’t do this to me.”

His mech shuddered, then jerked to a halt. The engines whined and smoked rose from the gyros in his hips.

He pressed the ignition. It didn’t start. He pressed again. His troops looked up at him, worried. He waived his arms, yelling at them to exit, and to leave this soon to be pile of rubble.

They jumped, cut their cables as they landed, and hurried to the hill.

Jaxx lifted his hand and popped the cockpit. The warm smoke smacked into his face. He hacked up blackened sputum, while undoing his straps. Just a minute longer and he’d have been toasted inside the cockpit. He stood, taking off the spongy helmet and dropping it on his seat.

How was he supposed to climb down this machine? There were a few footholds from his mech’s cockpit to its chest, but this time there was no ladder from the last foothold to the ground like there was when he first entered the cockpit. he soon realized that the biggest problem wasn’t the footholds leading down to the ground, or lack-there-of. The biggest problem was the incoming starfighters and mechs coming his way.

He threw one leg over the cockpit’s exit and slid down to the chest where several cables were hanging, now unattached from the soldiers who had just used them to flee.

Kraaaakah! Kraaaakah!

Jaxx let out a bark of laughter. “Are you kidding me?!” A barrage of missiles were heading his way. From the looks of things, his life mission of fulfilling the prophecy by fixing and opening the pyramid network correctly to kick the Negative Beings out and bring in the Positive Beings — like he thought he had, but apparently had done the opposite — was now just a pipe dream. He could count the seconds until he turned into a ball of flames.

16

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Craig sat at his desk and pushed away papers he’d been mulling over. “Loraine, bring in some coffee, please? I’m dying here.” He glanced up at Slade who was sitting on a recliner, eyes glaring at Craig, fingers intertwined. “You want a cup, Slade?”

Slade shook his head.

Was the guy ever happy? It was stressful job just looking at him.

Craig’s presidential suite door opened and Loraine held a cup of coffee in her hand, a folder in the other. “Was already on it. Here you go, Mr. President.”

He took the coffee and placed it on his desk. “Thank you.”

She dropped the folder next to the steaming mug. “The files you asked for.”

He picked it up, blinking in confusion. “What’s this?”

Slade leaned forward, his brows furrowing, and his face reddening. “What is that, Craig?”

Craig blew out his cheeks and shook his head. He could tell that somehow Slade knew exactly what those documents were and wasn’t pleased Craig had them.

Loraine suppressed an irritated huff. “I had your note on my desk several days ago asking me to dig up these files. Don’t you remember? It took me some time to find them, but I think I got them all. It was creepy snooping around like that. How did you get his room’s access code?”

“I didn’t –” he stopped himself. He had no idea what Loraine was talking about. He didn’t leave a note for her but whoever put that note on Loraine’s desk wanted Craig to see something. Perhaps it was Senator Ken Furr or Governor Boz Brown – the nitwits who always wanted the slow route to get things done and frowned upon war or military conflict.

“You didn’t, what? Finish your sentence,” said Slade, leaning more closely and sitting upright, his elbows now on his knees.

Craig put up a finger, shutting up Slade so he could think for a moment. Slade and Craig both were in the know about the secret mutiny taking place, but was anyone else keen that the president or Slade knew? Shit, probably. Now he’d have to address the entire government and their families soon. This was going to slow Slade’s and Craig’s plan down. He’d conjure up some lie to keep the peace on the ship, to cool the senators’ and governors’ boiling blood, but what lie he’d give them to gain their trust, he didn’t yet know. Something would have to come at the stroke of midnight like lies did in the past.

He sighed. Being in space, there wasn’t a midnight here. Plus, it was different than the extravagant, well-appointed, fully-staffed homes he was used to living in. The beauty and splendor of his former life had provided such inspiration. Space was cramping his style.

“Are you okay, Mr. President?” asked Loraine.

Slade stood, taking a few steps toward Craig. “Yeah, Mr. President. Are you okay?”

Craig eyed Slade like he was a paranoid hack. He took a sip of coffee and feigned a smile. “I’m fine.”

Loraine dipped her head in acknowledgment. “Okay, Mr. President. Anything else you need?”

“No, no.”

She turned and left, the door shutting behind her.

“Open the file, Craig,” said Slade, looming over Craig’s shoulder.

He opened the file. Inside was a bound document titled, Kaden Jaxx: Top Secret. He turned to the table of contents.

“These are all experiments.” Craig licked his finger and turned another page, reading through several more pages. The more he read, the more his shoulders knotted and his blood pressure rose. “Jaxx isn’t human?”

Slade laughed and walked back to his chair and took a seat. “That’s old hat.”

Craig stopped, pressing his finger on a single paragraph, reading it over and over. If the document was to be believed, Jaxx was a ninety percent Atlantean, ten percent human, with DNA that allowed him unearthly powers and reflexes. But what was more important, Jaxx had been trained to be a one-man wrecking crew. So, this is what the Secret Space Program trained Jaxx for? As a weapon? He kept reading. Jaxx was a very particular kind of weapon, built for space combat and keyed into Atlantean wavelengths that the SSP couldn’t decode. They needed him on ice until they reached Callisto.

Craig stopped for a moment, trying to let the explosive data sink in and the puzzle pieces find their home. This is why they’d wiped his memory and shuffled him back into society? The tech the SSP had employed, to keep Jaxx’s powers, and any memory of who he was or what he’d done with the space program, from him, was out of this world. Craig snorted at his own joke, then gathered himself. This was serious business. The SSP had trained a warrior, then switched him off until he was needed.

“You about done there, President?” said Slade, irritated.

Craig looked up, giving him an angry stare, and then returned to the document. He was almost done but given that there were information bombs on every page, he knew he couldn’t do his usual “skip to the end and rely on the cliff notes” move. He had to read every word.

This guy, Jaxx, was known all over the universe as a half-breed, feared by all warring races. Jaxx was the Secret Space Program’s secret weapon, the key to a network of pyramids that spanned the galaxy. His DNA sequence was calibrated in a way that could open the pyramids. Jaxx was a damn pyramid-opening, weaponized alien.

Craig shook his head. “Why, in the name of all that’s holy, did we let him escape our ship?”

“Because we have idiots as troops, Craig. That’s why.” Slade stood again and pressed the button on Craig’s desk. “Loraine, where did you find this document?”

Craig shoved away Slade’s hand. No one touches that button but the president.

“In Jon Shaughnessy’s office. It was almost exactly where that note told me to look.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “Right.” Shaughnessy sent her that sticky, not Ken or Boz and especially not Craig, but Loraine wasn’t the wiser, thinking the sticky note was given to her by the president.

Slade nodded. “Shaughnessy is part of the mutiny.” He couldn’t suppress a smile, probably impressed by the little pudgy man’s courage. His smile rapidly dropped. “That son of a bitch.”

“Why does Shaugnessy want me to know this, Slade?” He leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers together. “This is shit you didn’t tell me.” He fumed. “Why are you constantly holding back on me?”

“They are trying to create enemies between you and I.” Slade rubbed his fist with his other hand. He walked toward the door, rage practically seething out of his eyes.

“Where are you going?”

Slade put his hand on the door’s control panel. “I’m going to find and kill that mother fucker. He betrayed us.”

Craig pushed off his desk with his palms and stood, his expression serious. “Not yet, Slade.” To Craig, it would be careless to murder someone under uncontrolled emotions. If you wanted to premeditate a murder, you do just that, plan it out and calmly slit their throat.

“Yeah?” Slade let go of the control panel and spit in his hand. He rubbed his hands together. “Stop me.” He pressed the door open and hurried down the hall.

17

J-Quadrant, Solar System ~ Flood of Dawn, Callisto

The dome sizzled with electricity around Fox and Rivkah. Another Bogle stood in front of the dome. Or, in other words, another Zompawan. The real Bogle was someplace on Callisto, maybe closer to East Rise, the city to the east. Perhaps hiding away in Flood of Dawn. Who knew. And right now, Fox didn’t care.

“Omka oovka jana,” said the leader of the Kelhoon squad.

“Kajka Okbak wants you to know that you are in mortal danger,” said the Bogle look-alike.

Fox holstered his phaser. “Holster your gun, Rivkah.”

Rivkah threw dirt at Okbak, only to have it repel against the translucent dome and crackle at her feet, as if the dirt had been on a hot grill for a half an hour. “Tell your Zompawan slave that –”

Fox grabbed her arm and brought his lips close to her ear. “That’s the leader,” whispered Fox. “Holster your Goddamn gun if you want to live through this.”

Rivkah swung her arm free from Fox’s grip. “Yes, I know who he is, shit for brains.” She pointed her phaser at the leader. “He –”

Fox cut her off. “Kajka Okbak, we will tell you what you would like to know as long as you let us go free.”

“No, we won’t tell him anything,” responded Rivkah.

“Holster your gun,” demanded Fox.

Rivkah huffed and placed her phaser back in its holster, then put her hands out, showing the green lizard heads that she was cooperating.

Okbak gave an animated laugh, then wiggled his finger at Fox. “Koovja no shikagoj’n leshkwo, hija kogma.”

“Kajka Okbak would like you to know that he likes you. You are not loyal to the human race, which makes you a king among kings,” said the Zompawan.”

Rivkah stepped back. “What are you doing, Fox?”

He looked over his shoulder, mouthing, “Trust me.” Then he saw her, the real Bogle, hidden among the rocks. She was watching, but he could barely see her but for an arm and a breathing chest, her face camouflaged in a bolder’s shadow.

Rivkah shook her head. “You son of a bitch. Are you betraying me, just like Bogle did?”

Fox rolled his eyes at Rivkah, saying between his teeth, “Bogle is a short ways behind you.” He took another, more apparent look at Bogle, then back at Rivkah. Rivkah didn’t get the message. He turned, facing Okbak. “Will you honor my wishes?”

Okbak slammed his fist into his chest. “Goovmajga hoombaka.”

The dome disintegrated and Fox extended his hand to Rivkah. “Come, my lady. We have our own race to turn against.” He was bluffing, but he kept a straight face. Good enough for Rivkah not to notice his lie.

Rivkah slowly shook her head. “Never.” She stepped back a few more steps. “Why are you doing this? You call me a traitor? Jaxx a traitor? Look at you now, cowering in fear to a bunch of scaly skins.” She spit at his feet. “Bite me.”

“Oomka jivashka, monja,” grumbled Okbak.

“Kajka Okbak wants you to know that he will only take one of you. The other will die,” said the Zompawan.

“I don’t need a translator, Okbak.” Fox looked at his gun and fidgeted with it for a moment, startling the Kelhoon. They quickly readied their guns, grunting unintelligible sounds, bringing a sudden commotion among themselves.

Fox lowered his weapon. “Whoa, whoa lizard breaths. This gun isn’t for you. It’s for my friend here.”

Rivkah went for her gun. It wasn’t there.

Fox tapped another gun in his holster. “Here’s your gun, sweety-pie. Now, run.” He pointed his gun at her.

* * *

Rivkah’s eyes grew wide and she brought up every emotion she could think of, ready to pound some Chi into everyone’s solar plexus.

Fox pulled the trigger and a zap went across her chest and her hands unconsciously went up, touching the pain spreading across her torso. She let out a whelp, then fell back hard on the rocky terrain. Her body started to convulse, her arms and legs spasming against her will, her heart palpating at a rhythm she’d never experienced before.

She went to take a breath, but it wouldn’t come. It was stuck, as if the blast that went into her chest had blocked the airway.

The guy just up and killed her. He got the upper hand on her twice in one day. She had to at least give him that. He did what he always wanted to do, end her shitty life. In truth, and in her mind, it was for the best – better for rest of the galaxy. How many more people would she let down in her short existence?

She eyed the purple, blue sky, the beautiful turquoises, tans, and yellowish-reds of Jupiter shone like a sun down upon her, giving her a warmth she knew she didn’t deserve.

Worst off, she was speechless. All the words she wanted to throw out at Fox, that piece of shit, wouldn’t come out, wouldn’t rise to the surface.

She went to take another breath and this one came, but lethargy came with it. The death sleep, the body’s acceptance of death. It was starting and for some reason all she wanted to do was hold Fox’s hand, anyone’s hand. Jaxx’s hand most of all. Where was he? Why wasn’t he here with her, holding her? She didn’t want to die alone. She didn’t want the last moments of her life to be uncared for, unloved.

It didn’t matter. No one was here for her. They never were and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own. She failed in life and in death as well.

Rivkah’s eye-lids became heavy, tired. She was too tired. Her eye-lids began to shut and her body took over, ceasing to be controlled by her.

Rivkah took one last breath before her eyes shut completely and everything faded to black.

18

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

General Lin Yu pressed the barrel of his pistol harder into Drew’s forehead. This was it. He was dead, his brains would be blown out and across the wall any second.

Drew closed his eyes.

“Huílái! Huílái!” yelled the guards, moving toward the doorway, their rifles thrust forward.

There T-hacker stood, his sharp business suit on, his perfectly short cut beard, and his twenty-something face glowing.

Yu eased up on the pressure, then brought his gun down, glaring at T-hacker. “You dumb.” Yu motioned for his guards to seize him.

T-hacker backed up, slowly raising a digital device in his hand. The guards jabbed their guns forward, warning him to get back.

“It’s something for you, General Yu. It’s Mya. This is a video of her, for you.”

Drew tensed up. This probably wasn’t good, no matter how it panned out.

Yu marched over to T-hacker and went to grab the device. A video was on it with a play icon in the middle. He thought better of it, ordering a guard to take it and press play.

The guard pressed play.

Yu jerked back and so did Drew, craning his head to see what was playing. Anderle, on the other hand, slowly moved over to his desk, cocking his head for Drew to follow.

Drew shook his head and glanced back at the screen. It was a security camera eye view of Mya sleeping in her bed. The lights went on, the guard sleeping on the stool next to Mya’s bed awoke, disoriented, his gun catapulting out of his hands and clacking on the floor.

Yu’s facial features contorted more at each passing second, anger rising in him. He grunted words, sharp, curt words.

Mya woke up, screaming, then crawling back in the far most corner of her bed, fear in her eyes. Several men in black fatigues dashed in, throwing the guard on the floor, shoving a pillow case over his head and pulling out rope, tying the soldier’s arms and hands. They grabbed Mya and raced out of the room.

Anderle, standing at his desk, arms cuffed behind him, giggled.

Yu turned and hucked the device at Anderle.

Anderle ducked, the device smashing into a wall, breaking into dozens of pieces, chunks dropping to the floor.

Yu pointed at the open doorway, ordering his troops. “Nǐ zài zuò shénme? Zhǎo tā.”

His soldiers pushed through the doorway, bumping T-hacker out of the way, where he stumbled and fell to the ground. They dashed into the hallway, heading for the bend in the hall – heading to find Mya.

Bratatat! Bratatat! Bratatat!

The soldiers jerked back and forth violently, their rifles flying into the air, bullets ripping through them, punching blood and innards all over the hallway floor. They fell, lifeless, their body’s slack; dead.

Men in black fatigues emerged from around the corner, machine guns in hand.

General Lin Yu turned, his gun pointed directly at Anderle. He pulled the trigger, the gun kicking back, a flash exiting the barrel, the bullet skimming across Anderle’s shoulder.

Anderle dropped to the floor, using his desk as cover.

Bratatat!

Yu twitched like he was being electrocuted and Drew jumped to the side, farther away from the gun fire. Yu, much like his soldiers, was dead before he hit the floor.

A young man in black clothing, couldn’t be more than eighteen years old, and skinny like most hackers, rushed into the room, hot machine gun pointed toward the ceiling.

“We got ’em, sir.” His eyes were wild. His ashen face said he’d never before ended the life of another, and probably never cared to do it again.

Anderle stood, fingers pressing into the sodden mess, where the bullet had grazed his shoulder, cringing. “You extracted Mya too?”

More gun fire riddled the hall outside the oval office. They all instinctively ducked and T-hacker ran into the room.

Anderle jutted his finger toward the gun fire. “Go, help them.”

The young man in black nodded and hurried out of the door, joining his friends lined up against the wall, exchanging fire with Chinese soldier’s out of view around the corner and down the hallway.

A man in black fatigues pointed his gun around the corner.

Bratatat! Bratatat!

His hands and arms vibrated. He let go of the trigger, pulling back, and resting against the wall. Everything about the way he was handling himself said he’d learned the art of war on a video screen and was not prepared for combat.

Drew made his way over to Anderle. “What’s happening?”

“I told you Drew. If the General ever did something I didn’t like, I’d end his life. And that’s what’s going on.”

“Where’s Mya?”

An explosion rocked the hallway. Drew covered his head, then turned, his ears ringing. A cloud of white dust filled the hall, remnants of a Chinese explosive blasting a hole in the wall.

Several young men – Anderle’s men – lay motionless on the floor. Others rushed over, pulling them out of the way, and returned fire.

Drew looked around. There was no escape, no way out. They were sitting ducks.

“T-hacker, get over here,” said Anderle.

T-hacker raced over to the desk, where Anderle and Drew stood.

Anderle turned on his computer, his hands typing as fast as Drew had ever seen someone type, sweat beading off his forehead.

“Hurry, Anderle. Hurry,” moaned T-hacker, constantly looking over his shoulder.

Another ally fell, a bullet lodged into his neck, blood squirting outward. He rolled onto his back, his legs bouncing up and down, hands sliding over his neck, trying to stop his own bleeding. The other men continued to fire, continued to ignore the young man on the floor, his legs slowing down, his kicks ceasing, his hands falling to the side.

A yelp and another man fell. Only two left.

Drew swallowed hard, his chest tightening. The Chinese would be here any minute. He had to get out. He had to fight his way to Mya, wherever Mya was, and had to somehow get her to her father. She could save the world, according to the Status Report he’d read. What that meant, he had no idea. How could a little girl save anything besides a stranded baby bird?

“Hurry,” pleaded T-hacker.

“Shush! I’m going as fast as I can.” Anderle looked up. “Shit, one guy left.”

Drew took his eyes off Anderle and back to the fight. A lone man, again young, skinny, muscles that hadn’t come close to maturing, was on one knee shooting back and forth with the Chinese. There was no way this guy was going to survive.

Drew had to get a machine gun, had to shoot his way down the hall, running the opposite way to the Chinese, hopefully able to save himself – which he doubted, highly doubted, but it was the only way, his only chance.

Drew took a step forward. Anderle caught his arm. “No, stay.”

Drew wiggled his arm away. “We won’t make it in here.”

Anderle looked back at his computer, typing away. “Trust me.”

How could he trust the guy? The guy was a piece of shit times ten, much like his father – Slade.

“I gotta get Mya.”

“It’s done.” Anderle stood straight, pulling Drew by his side, T-hacker close to his other side.

Metal walls extended from the floor to the ceiling, encircling them around the desk, creating a barrier between them and the rest of the office, and most importantly, from the hallway where the Chinese soldiers continued to lay down fire.

The floor shuttered, clicked, then descended like an elevator.

19

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Shaughnessy leaned over and vomited in the trash can next to his computer station. He was shaking, sweat dripping down his face as if he’d just taken a break halfway through running a marathon. He put his head in his hands, his lips trembling, his mind full of excuses not to do this, not to risk his life. “Oh...no.” Another hit of nausea came over him.

He brought the trash can up to his face and dry heaved. There was nothing left in him, except weakness.

He couldn’t be weak. Not anymore. This was for Jaxx. Yes, what he was doing now – sabotaging the Secret Space Program by changing their coordinates and locking it in – was ordered by Senator Ken Furr, but only Jaxx was on his mind, only Jaxx deserved any help, any respect. Senator Furr was doing what Jaxx would have wanted – diverting the fleet away from Callisto, so no harm would be done to anyone or anything on that moon.

And he’d just diverted Starship Atlantis – the ship he was on – back to Earth. Soon, everyone, including Slade and the president, would know.

It was time to change SSP’s coordinates.

He swiped his hand on the holographic button on his holoscreen, patching into the Secret Space Program’s fleet’s main network – the same fleet accompanying Starship Atlantis to Callisto, the same fleet created by the United States government in secrecy, designed to explore the cosmos and protect the United States from outside threats.

In truth, all Shaugnessy knew about the Secret Space Program was what Jaxx had told him, and that had been garbled at best. Something about missions to a planet Taiyo, blasting the Kelhoon out of the sky. Jaxx merging with starfighters, saving the Taiyonians from total annihilation. All Star Wars shit if you asked him and none of it made a lick of sense, but if Jaxx thought it was central to the safety of the galaxy, then Shaugnessy was on board.

Shaughnessy pushed his glasses up the ridge of his nose, staring at Star Haven’s blueprint. The fleet’s network was mainframed into Star Haven, a Secret Space Program Second Class Star Carrier. The star carrier was manned by SSP’s very own Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore.

“Let’s automate your flight and see if the rest of the fleet follows you, including Starship Atlantis,” he said to himself.

Shaughnessy bypassed the network’s security protocols, working his way around firewall after firewall. He’d been at this for hours, staying up late and alone in central ops, telling all the scientists before they left that he had more work to do and he’d close up when he was done.

He touched his necklace hanging over the holocomputer. A necklace Jaxx found at one of the pyramid sites years ago, gifting it to Shaughnessy before he left Starship Atlantis. It was the only thing that kept him company. The office was dark and empty, the way he was feeling right now.

He rubbed his leg, digging his fingers into his pants, wiping the sweat off his hands. If he was caught, especially by Slade, he was dead.

“I’m doing this for you Jaxx.”

In truth, he didn’t care about the bullshit politicians on this flying boat. What he cared about was Jaxx’s mission, a mission to save an entire civilization on Callisto from utter destruction.

He tapped a few more keys. He had to do one more step – to initiate the plan. He steadied his shaking finger with his other hand and pressed the tip of his nail through the hologram.

He held his breath, the moment he’d been waiting for.

A beep and, NEW COORDINATES, popped up on his screen.

He was in. All he had to do was password protect it and then put in the coordinates.

He pulled up a new window and clicked on a box labeled, CHANGE PASSWORD.

He typed in SLADE ISAAC ROBERSON. If anyone found out the password, perhaps they’d go to Slade first and point their finger at him.

He went back to the coordinates, tapping in, Astronomical Units 19.826, Eliptical Latitude 0.63, Eliptical Longitude 308.55, HG_Lat 5.14, HG_Long 131.32, HGI_Long 232.64. Uranus.

He closed his eyes and thought of his colleagues debating the nutritional merits of the reconstituted layered protein that was used in the chili in the mess hall, and the beefy taste the kitchen was able to replicate.

He opened his eyes and gulped. It was done.

COORDINATES LOCKED. AUTOPILOT INITIATED. TO BYPASS AUTOPILOT, PLEASE ENTER THE SECURITY CODE.

He walked over to the window, eyeing the incredible behemoth, Star Haven, off in the distance – Jupiter’s colorful aura coming into view. He opened his mouth in awe. Star Haven was indeed changing directions, slowly, but surely. They were heading to their new destination – Uranus – and exactly where they belonged; up the solar system’s ass.

This was going to cause a shit storm and Shaughnessy knew it.

He sat back down at his desk, glancing at his computer screen. He gasped and his eyes shot wide open. “Who the…? How?”

DETONATION INITIATED.

“What’s detonating?” He stood, his knees hitting the front of the desk, tilting it a bit off the ground. It clambered loudly when it came back down. He landed his fist on the desk. “What is detonating? And, why?”

He went into the Secret Space Program’s mainframe again, moving quickly from window to window.

A ship, a small destroyer – The Gladstone – floating in space next to Star Haven was highlighted and blinking red.

He clicked on the ship, going into the ship’s network, patching through binary code until he found what he was looking for. The Gladstone was a war machine, but if the 2300-Megaton nuclear reactors and 4800-Megawatt ion tanks overheated, the ship would blow.

PATCH INITIATED. SELF DESTRUCT UNDERWAY, blinked across the screen. That ship was never intended to explode and self-destruct, but something was initiating it, something or someone had patched through a code that would work the reactors to death, causing it to cause an inferno throughout the entire ship.

10.

9.

8.

“No...what?” Shaughnessy bypassed the destroyer’s firewall.

5.

4.

He found the negative patch. It came from Starship Atlantis, central ops station 9. He looked at a placard on the right side of his desk. 9. His ops station was 9.

2.

1.

He raced over to the window, pressing his hands against the nebula-strength glass. He eyed the ship next to the newly re-routed Star Haven. It was the destroyer-class ship, The Gladstone. A flash of light consumed the ship, a red, blue fire erupted inside of it and sparked for a second, then extinguished.

Pieces of the destroyer spun wildly in space.

Shaughnessy dropped to his knees, his heart in his throat. “What did I do?” His heart skipped a beat, then two. His mind raced and vomit hurtled out of his mouth and onto the floor.

He’d been setup.

20

Leonia, Canis Major ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

The incoming missiles were seconds away. Jaxx jumped, gripping the cable, then loosened his grip to slide down the outside of his own mech. The mech whipped back as one explosion, then another, battered against it, and fire erupted inside Jaxx’s mech’s missile batteries, recoiling the mech. Another missile hit the mech’s shoulder, twisting it around, whipping Jaxx like a slingshot.

He lost his grip and flailed through the air. He kicked his legs and arms, his body doing a somersault he wasn’t expecting or wanting, and he crashed onto the sand and dirt laden ground.

He tumbled over brush and rock, smacking against a small tree. He grunted and got to his knees, the smell of burning metal filling the air.

“Look what we have here,” said a Leonian, the same one he first met – the old, wise-sounding man. He extended his hand.

Jaxx took it.

The Leonian lifted him, then put Jaxx over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and tucked his mech under his other arm.

“Here we go. Time to get you inside.” The Leonian took off at an amazing pace, moving his legs as fast as he could, the entrance to the base inside the hill coming closer and closer. The pyramids atop the hill were shining, probably some of the few that hadn’t been damaged by the Agadon invasion.

Entering the hill, the wise-lion made a whistling sound. Immediately, the opening in the hill’s side began to close, the ground rumbling beneath them.

The Leonian set Jaxx on his feet.

Jaxx’s mech toppled to the ground, a secondary explosion taking its arm clean off.

The Agadon were moving swiftly toward their position.

The hill closed entirely and the lights flickered on.

Starfighters and twenty-story combat-mechs lined the back of the built-in bunker, gigantic starships were off to the side, also in lines. The hill was ginormous, much larger inside than it appeared from the outside.

“You are brave, young one.” The Leonian patted Jaxx on the back. “You were the last one outside and you saved our pride troops. They owe you their lives.”

“They don’t owe him a lion’s mane,” said Zara, stepping between Jaxx and the old lion. “He brought this carnage. He brought this wrath upon us.”

“He didn’t bring nothing to no one. It wasn’t Jaxx’s fault. You stick to your blame-game, Zara, and the only thing that will come crumbling down will be you. All things are temporary. The only constant is change.”

Jaxx shifted in his stance. “Why aren’t you two talking? I can hear you, but your lips aren’t moving.”

Zara shook her head. “You see? This peach-fuzz brain only just figured out we don’t speak. He is dumb. Worthless.”

The wise-lion bowed to Jaxx. “My name is Abdu. We’re telepathic Beings. You move your lips, saying some type of gibberish, but we get what you’re saying through the thoughts forming your words. Telepathy is the true universal language.”

“Then how can I hear you?” inquired Jaxx.

Abdu gave Zara a satisfied look, his thick brows rising. “You see this Jaxx is much smarter than you think. He is obviously open to our communication and has been since he first arrived.”

A thunderous sound rang inside the facility and everyone, Jaxx included, ducked.

The lights flickered and dust fell from the high ceiling.

“What do we do now?” asked Jaxx.

Zara unclipped a red vial from her chains. “We drink up.” She downed it in several seconds. “We then leave our home world. It is dead, gone, taken over and soon to be ravaged and sucked of all life by the Agadon magic-makers.” She growled and marched off toward hundreds of twenty-story tall mechs lining the back wall.

She unclipped another vial and threw it at Jaxx. He caught it and took off the cap and peered into the vial. Inside, shimmering gold flakes floated in the liquid. He took a sniff, then bent over with his hand on his mouth, almost puking. Maybe he’d drink up later.

He turned to Abdu. “Where are we going?” asked Jaxx.

Abdu motioned at the thousands of Leonian’s jumping in starfighters, transport ships, and combat-mechs. “We are regrouping. We have to teleport via the pyramid network you opened. As long as we have one actively functioning pyramid on this planet, we can teleport where we please.”

He wanted to know how that was possible. He closed his eyes, linking up to the pyramid network. He took a long, deep breath, clearing his mind, intending the network to speak to him, to answer his question.

A pyramid, golden and shining like the sun, appeared in his mind’s eye. Out of its apex, it shot an energetic tube, clear and wide, to a network of ethereal tubes in space. His vision panned out, seeing the pyramid network like a sphere of translucent tubes surrounding the Milky Way Galaxy. Planets that held pyramids all had tubes extending from the planet to the network. It was simple. If he wanted to go somewhere, he’d need to designate a specific world he wanted to travel to while inside a pyramid, and it would teleport him through the energetic tubes, across the galaxy if need be, and to the tube that connected to the specific world. It only took seconds.

“Get in a combat-mech. We’re heading to a very wonderful place. Let’s hope the Agadon don’t follow us,” said Abdu. “We’re heading to Taiyo.”

Jaxx shook his head vehemently. “No. We’re not taking ourselves or these Agadon to Taiyo.” The Kelhoon attacked them, along with the SSP, and ravaged their world. It was only a few years ago when he helped the Taiyonians stave them off, push them back and out of their solar system. The Taiyonians had been in repair, emotionally and physically, ever since. “The Taiyonians have been through enough.”

Abdu, walking beside him, smirked. “The prophecy says we are. They, and we, will be your helpers.”

“Helpers for what?”

Abdu held onto his chains. “You’ll see.” He gestured to the vial in Jaxx’s hand. “Drink up.”

Jaxx jumped up a ladder leaning against a twenty-story mech, found some footholds, and climbed into the cockpit. The ladder reminded him of the ones the SSP had, only it was larger.

Abdu and Zara climbed into their mechs on either side of Jaxx.

Abdu held up a vial full of the same red liquid in Jaxx’s vial. He lifted it in a toast.

Jaxx lifted his own vial, then brought it to his lips. He drank it down. Then spat what was left in his mouth down the side of the mech. “Gross! What was that?”

Abdu gave a hefty laugh, his hand on his belly. “It’s Golgath piss – a four-legged animal on Leonia. It will give you lots of energy.” He continued to laugh. “You’re going to need it. Trans-world travel is…well…let’s call it enervating. You’ll be glad of the Golgath piss when we get to the other side. Trust me.”

“Everyone, get ready,” said Zara. “Destination; Taiyo.”

Jaxx’s body vibrated and a wave of sharp energy shot through him. His chest violently lifted toward the ceiling, his back arcing away from the cockpit’s seat. A flash of brilliant, electric blue light swirled in front of him, then encapsulated his vision. He tingled all over, the pyramid network displaying before him, a golden shaft of light shot up from him and his mech. He glanced up, seeing the translucent tube. This time he was inside it, ready to blast off of this planet and to another.

Then darkness.

And silence.

Then a splash of light, bright and unforgiving, penetrated his soul. Stars appeared. He was in space with hundreds of ships, combat-mechs, and starships around him.

A planet, blue and green, like a glowing jewel in the night, floated in space no more than a few clicks away. His heart ached for Earth, but the planet’s tell-tale moons, Utsukushi Tsuki – an all blue, water moon – and Mori Tsuki – a forested moon – mostly green and brown, from the dense forests from a high carbon dioxide environment – confirmed that the planet was Taiyo.

A beep on his sensor told him bandits were near. He flipped to reverse vid cams, seeing exactly what he didn’t want to see.

Giant ships. Agadon ships. A blue hue, mimicking fire, danced at the bottom of a few frigates. The starfighters, starships, and destroyers were in formation – ready to attack.

The Agadon had followed them.

Jaxx had not only brought hell upon the Leonians. He brought hell upon the Taiyonians. He was a curse upon all peoples. He was the bringer of death.

He slammed his hand on the console. “Son of a...”

“Attack formation. Move!” ordered Zaya.

Jaxx adjusted his thrusters, pushing port thrusters to full, and flipped around. He turned his missile batteries on and targeted the nearest enemy starfighter, his screen glowing a deep red, telling him he had a lock. He put his finger over the trigger. “I’m ready to engage.”

21

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Lookout Mountain, Tennessee

Drips reverberated against the tunnel walls and every other step landed in a thin puddle. A musty smell filled the area and they walked slowly, guided only by Anderle’s cell phone light.

“Where is she? Where is Mya?” asked Drew, trying to avoid a puddle, only to land in another, hurrying to get to whatever destination Anderle was taking them.

“Up ahead,” Anderle went into a quick jog. “She should be right over —”

“Should?” Drew’s voice echoed against the walls, louder than he meant it to be.

“Keep your voice down, and keep up the pace,” said T-hacker, glancing over his shoulder.

“My guys are waiting for us at the end of this tunnel. We’ve got four Range Rovers ready to drive the shit out of here,” explained Anderle. He picked up his pace, his breathing coming heavier. He looked behind him, worry in his eyes, probably imagining Chinese soldiers coming out of the shadows and shooting them full of bullets.

“What do we do when we get out of here?” asked Drew.

“We have another Range Rover being chased and riddled with bullets by the Chinese right now.”

“What do you mean?” said Drew. He stepped into another puddle.

Anderle let out a nervous laugh, the phone he carried for their light shook. “We have many safe-guards set up. We hooked up another Range Rover with a manikin a long time ago. If anything went wrong, we’d drive it remotely with T-hacker’s phone. It actually drives itself, but it’s fitted with explosives. Once they disable it, they’ll check for me inside and badda-bing, badda-boom. They go up in flames. In the meantime, we’re driving off in our own Range Rovers, me and my hacker boys, safe and happy.”

Anderle was a genius, but a fucking nut job to boot. “Why would you choose a Range Rover for our getaway and a Range Rover for your fake getaway?”

Anderle lifted his shoulders nonchalantly and pushed out his lower lip. “It’s my favorite car.”

“If they see a second Range Rover, a third, and forth, maybe even just an hour after we drive off into the sunset, they will check it out immediately. You pick a different car and they might bypass it, thinking it’s just another American driving down the damn road.” How stupid could the guy be?

Anderle paused, thinking for a moment. He shrugged it off. “We got this. We’ll be fine.” He put his hand up. The end of the tunnel was coming near. “Where are the rest of them? Where are the other Range Rovers?”

At the end of the tunnel, yet still inside it, sat a white Range Rover, covered in dust and dirt, as if it had sat there for months without anyone touching it, which was probably the case. Early dawn light sprinkled into the lip of the tunnel. Beyond was a gravel road surrounded by ferns, grasses, and trees.

Drew stopped dead in his tracks, his stomach falling. His body turned cold. “No, no. Mya’s gone?”

Anderle walked over and kicked the wall, pulling his hair way too violently. “Son of a bitch! They took her. Our guys turned tail and ran.” His arms went rigid by his sides, his hands in a fist, his shoulder’s up toward his ears. “We needed her. They knew that.” He jabbed his finger in Drew’s face. “She is more powerful around her dad and we need her to be powerful, way fucking powerful.”

Drew pushed his hand away. “She is just a six-year old. You piece of shit. You used her and look where it got her.” He reared back, ready to throw a punch.

T-hacker grabbed Drew’s hand, preventing him.

Drew shrugged T-hacker off of him and ran his hands through his hair, thinking. “Where would they have gone? We can locate her there. Find her, or something.” He started pacing, his hands going numb. This wasn’t even his own daughter and he was having a panic attack. Was it because she was his responsibility and he screwed up? “Why do you need someone like her? Who cares if she’s powerful.”

T-hacker shoved the phone in Drew’s face. “This is why.”

The screen saver was a picture of a blackened sky with dozens of vessels shaped like diamonds, whitish-blue hue glowing off of them. They were dropping what looked like red energy balls on a city. The city was on fire, the buildings crumbling apart, people running, others on fire, dying. Was that New York?

“That’s London,” came Anderle. “Those things are appearing over hot spots, mainly older ancient sites, like pyramids. This one materialized over Stonehenge, and then moved on, attacking everything in sight.”

Drew walked over to the Range Rover, then picked up his pace, finding himself in a full out run. He didn’t know how to feel – about any of this. First China was taking over. Now another damn monster was on the loose in the form of alien spacecraft, killing everything. Mya has super powers? So what? It didn’t matter. “We have to find Mya.” He didn’t know about this so-called super power Anderle claimed she had. All he saw her do was heal a guy’s nose.

He reached the Range Rover, placing his hand on the door handle.

An explosion rocked the area beyond the lip of the tunnel and Drew hit the ground. The tunnel shuddered, a ball of flames erupted on the gravel road beyond the tunnel. He stood, feeling the heat blast against him. He bolted to the edge of the tunnel and looked out. A Range Rover was on fire a short distance away, the front completely blown to shreds, the back intact, but wasting away in an inferno of flames.

No one survived that. They couldn’t have.

He took a step backward when the Rover’s back door opened. And out walked Mya, crying loudly, walking toward the tunnel, her face contorted in a spasm of sobs. She shook her head, her eyes changing from complete sadness to rage. She spun around and thrust her hand toward the Range Rover. The fire died down. Her hands shook. Her legs wobbled. She fell to her knees on the gravel. Yet, she maintained her stance, holding her hand out. The fire extinguished. She collapsed.

Drew ran to her. He moved his feet as fast as they could, pumping his arms up and down, his breath coming heavy. Rocks kicked up with every step.

He slowed when he came up to Mya and bent down. She was asleep, breathing slowly, but not a single scratch on her, or any burn mark. “What the hell?” He went to pick her up and touched her back. His hand singed and he pulled it back. She was as hot as a camp fire.

22

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Slade was on his way to Shaughnessy’s room and turned a corner, his chin low, his eyes forward. He wanted to end this prick like he was the black plague. And to Slade, Shaughnessy was worse than all plagues meshed together.

His watch beeped and Slade stopped and tapped it. A hologram shot outward, highlighting his face full of lights and colors. “What the fuck?”

He dropped his arm and the hologram blipped off. Now it was between Ken and Shaughnessy as to which one was more of a disease. It was turning into a coin flip.

He slapped his palm against a storage door’s control panel, opening the door. He walked inside and sat on a crate, the door shutting a few seconds later.

Of all things, he didn’t want to spend his time watching Ken’s every move. But he had to and right now, the camera’s were pointing at Ken and he wasn’t playing right by Slade.

He turned his watch hologram back on, watching Ken like a hawk.

Ken was also in a storage room, though somewhere else on the ship. Slade checked the location and nodded. “Bastard.” Ken was on the lowest deck, obviously up to something that Slade knew he wouldn’t like.

Ken pushed the storage room’s door open, leading several men out onto the deck with him. “Go, go.”

The men were politicians and there were at least four dozen of them, but Slade was too pissed to count. What the hell were these guys doing? They were dressed up in what looked to be their best business attire. They ran down the hall, putting on helmets. Why the helmets?

Slade pressed another button on his watch.

“Yes, Colonel?” came a voice.

“Get as many soldiers as you can to Deck 7. We have a situation. Tell them to handle it.”

“Yes, sir.”

Slade winked at his own watch. “This ought to be good. This is primetime entertainment.” He hoped he see an altercation and some heads being blown off, mainly Ken’s.

The politicians rushed down the hall and lined up two per room, one holding a holographic display device.

Slade scrunched up his face. “Why are they lining up next to the troops’ sleeping barracks?”

Ken stood in front of a military bunk room door with Govenor Boz Brown, a large African American man, known for his dedication to the Constitution and the people. Boz was considered an annoyance, always making it difficult for congress to pass any erroneous laws and bills the government tried to backslide past the American people on Earth. Boz, like Ken, was a hound when it came to protecting the people.

Fuck them both.

Boz held an HDC device in hand.

Ken held up his hand, then dropped it.

Slade turned up the sound.

“Open the doors now,” said Ken.

Boz inserted the swipe card in the control box next to the door.

Phhst!

The door slid open.

Ken rushed in, Boz right behind him. “This is the United States government. This is not a drill,” Ken yelled.

Slade knew that each bunk room had exactly twenty-six troops and grinned. This wasn’t going to be good for Ken.

Every sleeping soldier in the room bolted upright, woken from a dead sleep, their eyes wild not knowing what was going on.

“I’m Ken Furr, Senator. We are taking control of the ship, under Universal Starship Laws of the second code. We are changing your status. You’re no longer working for President Craig Martelle. He has broken Law Pact Nine-Zero-Nine. You are working for your United States Government now.”

Slade swallowed. That was all bullshit. There weren’t any codes written into a make-believe Universal Starship Laws. These troops wouldn’t buy it.

Several troops pushed out of their bunks, some in their underwear, others in boxers or sweats. A commotion filled the room.

A holographic video shot out of Boz’s HDC device, the vid hovering high above Boz.

“What’s going on?” said a soldier.

A few took a several steps forward, their eyes betraying their usual steady expressions.

It was a video of every communication stream that the President of the United States of America and Colonel Slade Roberson had with Kajka Okbak, the supreme leader of the Kelhoon. They watched as their President set up the troops and every person on the starship to be slaughtered.

They were going to be farmed like animals.

They were going to be used as food throughout the Kelhoon planetary systems.

The strongest would be used as slaves, until it was time for them to land on a Kelhoon plate.

“So,” said President Martelle on the vid stream that Boz was showing the troops. “You will have us set up nicely on Callisto. That’s our deal. Slade and I will be the head of the slave trade.”

“Koonja kanga.”

Slade grinned. “You’ll be compensating us more than our world’s richest citizen.”

“Oojkana.”

Slade and Craig both dipped their heads. “Agreed.”

Boz turned off the holodisplay.

Slade’s jaw dropped and his gut about fell out of his stomach. He quickly pressed a button, his mouth coming closer to his watch.

“Yes, Colonel?”

“Did you dispatch the troops to Deck 7?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, then where the hell are they?”

“They are on their way, sir.”

“Well, tell them to hurry their asses up. This is not a drill. This is a legit situation. We are being taken over by a few senators and governors as we speak.”

“I will relay that information, sir.”

Slade glanced back at the display before him. A Marine – big, built and buff – walked up to Ken, fury in his eyes. “Reporting for duty, Sir.”

Slade brought his hand back up to his mouth. “You aren’t on my team anymore are you HQ?”

“No sir.”

Static.

Slade stood and kicked the crate across the storage. He slammed his palm against the control panel, opening the door. It was time to gather whatever troops were remaining under his command to fight for his ship back.

And he hoped the fight wouldn’t be pretty — for Ken.

23

Unknown, Callisto ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System

Hot flames kicked up, crackling brush and sticks echoed against the crags, and yellowish-red light flickered on the rocks. A warmth touched the side of Rivkah’s face and a cold tinged the other side.

She touched her face and took a breath. She was alive. No, it couldn’t be. Fire? Was she in hell?

She shook her head, whispering, “No such thing.” Death was death. Nothing more. Once you were gone, you were out of here – blackness. Nothingness.

She sat up and gathered herself. She rolled her neck. She was in a cave. A deep cave. She couldn’t see an opening, no exit, no entrance. Perhaps it was around the corner, but no draft meant an opening wasn’t near.

A rock fell from some place high. She pushed herself into a crouch, almost falling over from dizziness. “Who’s there?” She massaged her temples, doing her best to keep herself awake and to tame the spinning world around her.

Another rock fell and boots crunched against gravel. Someone was walking toward her, though it came deep from within the shadows.

Rivkah went to grab her gun.

It wasn’t there. “Fuck you, Fox.” He had taken it from her. He left her vulnerable. Hell, he shot her. But if he did, then why wasn’t she dead? And since she was most certainly shot by the coward – she touched her chest, pressing on her collar bones and sternum – then why wasn’t there a hole in her chest and through to her back?

He had stunned her. But why?

“Because he saw me, Rivkah. And those Kelhoon wanted one of you dead. Fox chose a fake death for you. It worked.”

Rivkah moved behind the fire, using it as a barrier between herself and whoever was coming from behind the shadows. “Who are you?”

A black boot stepped into the light, then blue pants and finally a woman in a blue Secret Space Program jump suit.

“Bogle?” Rivkah let down her guard. “How did you know what I was thinking?” She remembered. They were connected somehow through that network, through that Lady of Atlantis statue seemingly guarding the pyramids of Atlantis Alta’s capital city, Flood of Dawn. Plus Bogle was super-psychic. “Fox didn’t want me dead?”

“Oh, he wants you dead, but apparently not on this day. On the other hand, the Kelhoon think he did a very fine job of ending your life. He not only saved your life with that attempt, he saved his own.” Bogle tapped her noggin’. “He’s a smart cat, no if, ands, or buts about it.”

Rivkah narrowed her eyes, moving a step to the side, farther away from Bogle. “You’re different.”

Bogle sat on a rock outcropping, resting her back against the cave wall. “I’ve changed, yes. I’m not that much different. Just a little less afraid. And I don’t care anymore, Rivkah. Not a bit.”

“Care about what?”

Her shirt crinkled when she shrugged. “Everything. I’ve done what I thought I was supposed to do. I thought God planted me here to kill Morning Star.”

Rivkah cocked her head to the side. What an intriguing answer. “Morning Star was a good man. He did nothing to harm you. In fact, from what I heard, he caught you with his craft after Star Warden blew up just above Callisto’s exosphere and saved your life. You repaid him by leading him to his own death.”

Bogle looked down. “That was my error.”

“That’s not the only error. You left us all to die. You led us into a trap.”

“Do you know what Morning Star means? Do you know the significance of that name?”

Rivkah stared into the fire, thinking.

“Don’t worry. You won’t be able to answer, Riv. The devil was named Morning Star before he fell from grace. I thought I’d killed the devil. I thought I was doing right by God.” She shook her head. “No, I did wrong by him. Morning Star was the devil’s name when he was good. Morning Star was good, not yet broken by the evils of jealousy, of envy, of lust, and greed.” She paused for a moment, looking up at Rivkah. “I broke a commandment: thou shall not kill.”

“Are you –”

Bogle put her hand up, interrupting Rivkah. “I know what you’re going to say. And, yes, I was dumb, naive, bull-headed, and I am that word you were going to use – stupid. But I have changed. I ran, I learned, and I gained strength in the process. Psychic strength through our God Almighty. And, this...” She stood and closed her eyes, concentrating. The fire hissed as if water had been thrown onto it, then vanished. The cave was pitch black. A moment later, the fire rose to an enormous height, beating against the ceiling, then died down to where it was before it flickered out.

Bogle opened her eyes. “Did you see that?”

“Well, hell yes I did. You’re turning into Jaxx, but I haven’t seen him do that before.” Rivkah moved another few steps back. “You’re not going to do that to me, are you? I’ve already been burned to the bone. I don’t want to experience that again.” The chills ran through her body. The memory was still vivid in her mind.

“I’m not going to harm another hair on anyone ever again. That’s not the Christian way.”

Rivkah wanted to giggle. What another lame-ball idea posed by a religious freak. “Well, you do your thing and I’ll do mine. Anyone tries to kill me? They get killed first. That’s my motto, kid.” She inched her way toward a corner of the cave. “By the way, you need to come back with me. We’re going to get Jaxx back.”

“I know where their camp is,” said Bogle, ignoring Rivkah’s statement.

“Whose camp?” questioned Rivkah.

“The Kelhoon. The leader who took Fox. They’ve been slowly moving closer to Flood of Dawn. They aren’t far away from this spot.”

“How close are we to Flood of Dawn?”

“Three klicks north.”

Rivkah caught her breath. That was too close. By morning, they could invade and kill off everyone inside the city. “We have to warn them.”

Bogle slowly shook her head. “Let’s get the Kelhoon from inside their own camp.”

“One against thousands?” Bogle had really lost her marbles. “I’ll pass.”

Bogle clapped her hands together and armor clamored as heavy steps came from the shadows. Men and women in Atlantean armor stepped forward, tridents in their hands, revenge in their eyes.

“Welcome the warriors of North Light, here to surprise the Kelhoon. They are the followers of the Law of One, but I won’t judge them for that. They come from the city north of Flood of Dawn. They know me and will follow me because they are told, in the prophecies, that I am their leader.”

Rivkah shrugged. “Okay, where exactly is the Kelhoon camp?”

“We’re in a passageway between North Light and Flood of Dawn. The Kelhoon are directly above us.”

Rivkah looked up. This was, undoubtedly, the weirdest conversation of her entire life. She gestured at the ceiling. “Right there?”

Bogle nodded. “It’s time to fight.”

“Wait, now? This very instant?”

Bogle closed her eyes and a blue light beamed from the fire. The ceiling where the beam penetrated began to smoke and small grains of sandy rock began to fall from the beam’s impact. The cave started to shake, then a blast from the fire shot through the ceiling, exposing the sky.

Bogle, eyes closed, lowered her hands, then raised them in one fast motion. Instantly, three soldiers burst up through the hole and above ground. Bogle continued her odd movement, pushing more and more soldiers through the hole.

Lasers and cannons began roaring across the sky accompanied with small explosions. A fresh battle was underway and by the time Rivkah had caught her breath, Bogle had magically lifted the last soldier out of the passageway to the battle ensuing above.

Rivkah puffed up her cheeks. “Well, it looks like you have everything handled.” She turned to leave, but her feet wouldn’t move, wouldn’t budge an inch. She was planted in place.

“Rivkah, they need you. We all need you.”

“Uh...I have no weapons.”

“You have the greatest weapon of all. Your Chi.”

Bogle closed her eyes again and lifted Rivkah above the lip of the tunnel and out into the open.

Photon bombs and ion charges were detonating everywhere, lasers and tracer fire were hitting trees, slamming against armored Atlanteans, and bloody screams from both sides filled the combat zone.

Rivkah went for her phaser for the second time. It still wasn’t there. Off in the distance, she heard a scream – a child’s scream, a little girl’s pleas for help.

“Not again.” She charged forward, heading toward the Kelhoon camp with Leaping Lizard starfighters, KH1 heavy tanks, and KH29 rocket barrages lining the camp’s perimeters.

She pulled up every emotion she could muster while she ran toward the encampment walls. Her hands started to run hot, her central nervous system went into overdrive, and her mind cleared – her sight now like an eagle, her instincts like a cat.

She was ready to kick ass and take names. On second thought, names wouldn’t be needed.

24

Near Taiyo Orbit, Sector 9 ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

Jaxx stared at his reverse vid cams, the blue-flaming Agadon ships and Agadon combat-mechs had slowly gained on him and the Leonians. He took his eyes off the vid screen, the camera automatically adjusting with his eye movement, the vision of the blue-green world, which glowed brilliantly in front of him, was marred by more Agadon ships and combat mechs, all closing in on him and the Leonians.

“We’ve brought these Agadon assholes to Taiyo. Let’s change our path. I can’t bring this evil upon my friends.” Jaxx’s heart went into his throat. It might be too late to change course.

“Yes, you brought them upon us, Jaxx. It is good that you not forget. But you would do well not to dwell in the inky swamplands that the Negatives thrive on. Turn yourself to the light. Allow your gift to shine. Use it to bring them to their knees,” replied Zara.

“First, we lure them away from Taiyo,” responded Jaxx.

“I don’t think the Taiyonians see it your way, Jaxx,” said Zara.

“I think they would.” Jaxx brought his reverse vid cams back online. The Agadon had accelerated and were approaching fast. “Oh, no. Not good.” The lead ship, a massive carrier, was amassing electric charged energy at the nose of the ship. Lightening-like tentacles crawled over the nose. “Is that a weapon?”

“A massive weapon and like I said, Jaxx, the Taiyonians don’t see it your way. They know they have to help you fulfill the prophecy. Because so, they are in attack formation now.”

Jaxx’s eyes went to the cockpit window. “Holy shit.” Up ahead, coming in quickly, were hundreds of Taiyonian starfighters. “Taka-zans are coming in fast.” He grinned.

“Split!” ordered Zara.

Jaxx banked left with his control sticks, one in each hand – both controlling opposite sides of the mech’s body. Half of the Leonian fleet went his way, the other half the other way. Almost instantly, tracer rounds from the Taiyonians followed by lasers zoomed past Jaxx and the Leonians, impacting the Agadon carrier.

The lasers met the heavy impulse cannon at its head. The massive carrier flashed a dense, blue light, then all lights on the behemoth went out. The carrier split in two, half of it careening into a handful of frigates, crashing into them like a planet colliding into small moons. The frigates erupted, tearing apart into a thousand fragments, slamming into Agadon combat-mechs and starfighters, spinning them out of control.

Untouched Agadon carriers re-calibrated their turrets, switching from the Leonians to the incoming Taiyonian starfighters – the Taka-zans. The Agadon let loose a barrage of ion blasts and photon torpedoes, their heavy ships moving forward as if nothing could change their path.

The Taka-zans avoided every shot, moving in one, beautiful motion. It was smooth and effortless, the way the Taiyonians did everything, like a choreographed dance.

“Time to engage,” said Zara. Her combat-mech spun around and so did the rest of the Leonian combat-mechs. “Show ’em our claws, cats!”

Jaxx flipped his mech to face the Agadon. His eyes brightened. The Taka-zans were having their way with the Agadon, dropping photon bombs on the large Agadon cruisers, creating bright flashes of purple balls of blaze that withdrew to nothingness seconds later. Chunks of the ships floated off into space, yet they kept coming, kept engaging.

“Move above, get them from atop. That will keep the Taiyonian starfighters safe from our fire,” suggested Jaxx.

“Already on it, flat-teeth. Follow our lead.” Zara ignited her mech’s extra boosters, raising her above the rest of the mechs. Jaxx and the rest of the combat-mechs did the same, mimicking her movements. Zara then darted forward and Jaxx clicked his feet’s ion propellant rockets, pushing him closer to the Agadon. Yet, the Leonian mechs were the only ones engaging. All other Leonian ships continued toward planet Taiyo.

“We’re being left to handle this on our own?” asked Jaxx, his eyes moving quickly from one potential target to the next.

“Our mechs are the ultimate warriors. We’re faster than starfighters and more powerful. Now, everyone, fire at will,” grumbled Zara.

Jaxx aimed at a large Agadon ship, his turrets rotated and its cannon barrels spun in place, shooting one ion bolt after another. Jaxx flipped his missile batteries on and opened the missile compartments, then pressed his weapons trigger, firing half a dozen missiles. Extra ion boosters built into his combat-mech’s back were initiated, keeping him at the precise flight speed to repel the missile’s recoil. He glanced at the side view vid screen. His first shots hit true, and the largest of the Agadon ships took much damage, its port side going off line. Its aft rockets, on the other hand, straightened the mammoth back into formation.

“Almost got ’em,” he said under his breath.

He banked right. An Agadon mech came into target, this one having his way with a Taka-zan, chasing it, badgering it. The problem was that it was too near to Jaxx’s mech squad. The Agadon wasn’t paying attention or the Taka-zan pilot was doing a damn good job at baiting the Agadon into a trap.

“Bad move, Ag boy,” came Zara. “You have the Agadon in your sights, Jaxx. Engage.”

“Don’t mess me up, Zara,” said Jaxx. He didn’t need to be guided. He didn’t need to be taught the intricacies of war. War – something he wish he could avoid at all times – seemed to follow him wherever he went. Something at which he was more than an expert.

He took a deep, powerful breath, and an invisible energy swirled down his skull and into his mind. His eyesight enhanced, zooming in and out like a powerful camera, his brain synapses firing in perfect harmony, zipping electrical impulses faster.

He was a warrior.

He pulled his blade from his mech’s back. He threw it. It spun tip over hilt, heading for the Taka-zan, increasing in speed at every second.

“Stay,” whispered Jaxx. “Don’t move, my friend.” He watched, waiting, the sword zipping closer and closer to the Taka-zan. “Now!”

He knew the Taiyonian pilot couldn’t hear him, but the Taiyonian veered right in the nick of time, exposing the Agadon mech behind it.

The Agadon reversed thrusters as fast as he could, slashing his mech’s arm upward to hit and redirect the sword away from him.

A moment too late.

Sparks flew as the sword sliced through the Agadon mech’s forearm, then rammed into its chest, sticking halfway through.

The Agadon mech went listless, and a blast blew out of its upper back, sending debris behind it and away from the fight.

It was out of commision.

A booming voice came over Jaxx’s comm. “They are retreating.” It was Zara. She growled and the comm line filled with Leonian warrior roars. After it died down, Zara continued, “It is time to head to Taiyo. They are extending us long visit.”

Out of the corner of Jaxx’s eye, an Agadon destroyer lit up in a flash, then disappeared. A large carrier vanished, then a starship. One by one, more Agadon mechs and ships left the system.

“They initiated their portal drives connected to the pyramid network. They’re probably back in Leonia orbit. Let’s regroup on Taiyo,” said Zara. “They’ll be back soon and with more battleships and artillery at their disposal.”

Jaxx nodded, then pressed his combat-mech forward, heading to retrieve his heavy, striated Ashanti sword, deep inside the Agadon mech’s chest.

So, the Agadon left their dead behind. Assholes. He should have known that was the case. They weren’t called “Negatives” for nothing. Jaxx grasped the sword with his mech’s hands, placed both feet on the floating Agadon mech, and pulled.

The sword didn’t budge.

He twisted it, then pulled again.

It only moved a few inches.

His comm line blared and laughter filled his cockpit. That wasn’t Leonian laughter, nor Taiyonian. Who was it? He eyed the Agadon cockpit. An Agadon glared, blue blood oozing out of his mouth, dripping down his gray chin, as he gave Jaxx a sinister smile. How did the Agadon tap into Jaxx’s comm line?

The Agadon coughed and blood squirted out of his mouth and onto the Agadon cockpit window. If this was an Artificial Intelligence Being like Zara said, hell bent on destroying planets, and wiping all living things out of existence, it was well made with blood and flesh – and all other human-like biological systems, except perhaps the brain; maybe substituted with a central processing unit and a hard drive that was hardwired to kill.

The Agadon wiped his blood away from the cockpit window with his gray forearm. He then jabbed his finger at Jaxx and pointed the finger at his control panel. The Agadon paused, then hit a button with his fist.

The Agadon mech exploded, shredding Jaxx’s mech’s feet and shins apart, shards of the Agadon mech’s armor shot into Jaxx’s mech, sinking into his hips, chest, and all the way up to the cockpit, shattering the cockpit window. A glass barrier from Jaxx’s helmet extended and folded over Jaxx’s face, leaving a few inches of space between the helmet’s glass and his nose. The bottom portion of the glass barrier curved under his chin, clicking into his jumpsuit’s collar.

In seconds, all air was sucked out of his mech and what was left of the cockpit window was pulled off of its hinges, jettisoning out into space. His cockpit seat pushed forward, then launched him straight through the cockpit opening, spinning him wildly in into the deep, dark void.

He sucked in a breath, but nothing entered his lungs but searing pain. His eyes widened. The helmet was malfunctioning. He pressed a few buttons on his jumpsuit, hoping to close the tube’s oxygen flap.

He attempted another breath.

Pain – as if the tissue holding his lungs in place were tearing, ripping. His slapped his helmet, his face turning blue. This was it. This is how he was going to die.

Kaden Jaxx, archeologist, Atlantean expert, warrior, prophesied savior of the known worlds: dead.

His vision narrowed and his sight began to fade. His arms slackened, weakness and sleep started to overtake him.

A crackle and hiss.

His jumpsuit and helmet filled up with air, giving him ample, clean oxygen.

He took in a deep breath, his body regaining strength, his face turning back to pink.

“Oh my God!” He blinked several times, his vision widening, his body tingling, bringing fresh oxygen through his veins.

He floated, slowly spinning in space, the stars twirling around him. All he could hear was his breath.

He pressed a button on his jumpsuit.

“I need...help.”

Static filled his helmet.

“Anyone?”

He spun farther away from his badly damaged mech. He turned, seeing his mech’s wires and tubes hanging from its legs, its torso caved in, cracked open, and its head hanging to the side, a thread of armor keeping it from following Jaxx into space.

Blue ion booster fire from the Leonian and Taiyonian ships and combat-mechs were far in the distance, heading for the blue and green planet.

Shit!

“Hey, guys?”

25

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Shaughnessy was inside his room. He took the control panel – the box that allows access in and out of the room, fully complete with a hologram interface – off the inside wall next to his door.

He looked to his right, staring at the bathroom mirror, seeing a clammy, short man with a receding hairline glaring back at him, his lips trembling, his shirt stained in sweat. He wasn’t proud of what he had done – accidentally killing thousands of people on a destroyer he never meant to blow up.

He was set up. He just hoped he wasn’t going to be the fall guy, the patsy.

Red, white, and yellow wires stuck out where his control panel had just been. He slid the chip out of its expansion slot and put a new one in its place, one he had enhanced. Normally, patsies were killed shortly after being setup. He didn’t want to be killed. No one would be able to change the code to get in. The only way in was to blast the door open.

He put the control panel back on and twisted the screws, tightening the panel in place.

He wiped his forehead. “Change code on my voice command only.”

“Affirmative,” replied the control panel.

“Code is 1-1-4-5-1. Please confirm.”

“New code is 1-1-4-5-1. Confirmed.”

He walked over to his bed. It was covered in food, enough food to last him weeks. He slipped his hand in an opened bag of barbecue chips and shoved some in his mouth.

He chewed.

His phone rang.

He swallowed.

Caller ID: Craig Martelle.

It rang again. He didn’t want to answer it, but by now the entire starship, as well as the entire fleet, knew that a destroyer was DAWD – Dead as a White Dwarf.

And Shaughnessy had agreed to change the fleet’s and the starship’s coordinates, performing the first acts of sabotage. In fact, several acts of sabotage. Two of his own knowledge, diverting the fleet. The other without his consent or knowledge, ending a destroyer and the lives of all who lived on that ship.

The phone rang a third time and his hand hovered over the answer icon.

President Craig Martelle always seemed like a good, non-violent individual. If he answered the phone, then more than likely, he could explain everything to Craig and he would understand. He would have his back when Slade caught wind.

It rang again.

Shaughnessy pressed on the icon.

He froze, feeling rooted to the spot.

“Hello? Is this Jon?”

“Yes...yes, Sir.” Jon sat on his bed, head in his hands.

“I’m going to keep this short. We have a saboteur or several saboteurs on our ship. You’re the most experienced and best-information technologist and hardware specialist on Starship Atlantis. Our course, along with the course of the entire Secret Space Program fleet has been re-routed. We need you to fix that for us and we need you to find out who destroyed an entire ship in the space fleet.”

Shaughnessy needed to play dumb. “Wait, a ship has gone down?” He closed his eyes, squeezing his eye-lids tightly, touching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, sir. There is nothing we can do but find the culprit. What we can do is fix this error in navigation. We can’t seem to figure out how to change the ship’s trajectory back to its original course. And you’re the man for the job, Jon.”

Shaughnessy shook his head, not wanting to be involved in anything...anymore. “I will figure it out, Mr. President.”

“Come to my quarters immediately.”

Shaughnessy nodded. “Aye, Mr. President. I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

“I needed you here ten minutes ago. Get here now.”

Craig hung up and Shaughnessy looked at his shaking hands. He was screwed. Why did Ken have him do this? And, what’s more, why did he agree? His life, once this was found out, was in the balance. Slade would take his life, but if he could fix this, maybe Craig would keep his life intact. He could make it up to Slade later.

But Jaxx. He did this for Jaxx, not to spite Slade. He’d tell Slade that. They will understand. They always understood that Shaughnessy was for the greater good and they would be empathetic toward him. They had to be. They were human.

He put on his shoes. “1-1-4-5-1.” The door opened and he headed out into the hall.

He turned the corner.

“Hey, Jon.” Slade extended his hand, a half smile crowded his lips. Yet, he looked like he wanted to rip someone’s head off.

“Colonel?” Jon shook Slade’s hand, the Colonel’s grip way too strong to be friendly.

“Where you going?”

Jon looked away. “The president’s suite.”

“I’ve been summoned by the president as well.”

Shaugnessy’s gut contracted. That was the last thing he wanted. Maybe he could simply crumple and sink to the ground and disappear. “Yes, Sir.” Shaughnessy walked forward, praying Slade would get an emergency call.

“So, tell me, how did you get the code to my admiral’s quarters?”

Shaugnessy gulped hard. “Uh, I didn’t, Colonel.”

Slade stopped, putting his arm out, almost clothes-lining Shaugnessy. He leaned in close to Shaugnessy’s ear. “You gave President Martelles secretary, Loraine, the access codes to my quarters. She took my documents.”

Oh, shit. Shaughnessy’s heart skipped a beat. “What documents, Sir?”

“Documents that I didn’t want him seeing. Don’t play dumb.” He shoved Shaughnessy against the wall, his warm, minty breath blasted against Shaugnessy’s cheek. Slade winked and patted Shaughnessy on the shoulders. “I’m just screwing with you. I think it’s very clever you hacked our rooms.” Slade walked forward. “Follow me.” He laughed. “I did the same thing.”

“You hacked his room?”

“Of course. And yours. In fact, I hacked your computer in the central ops office as well. I bugged it, and I have a constant holovid stream watching your room, your computer, your station, and the president’s suite. Who do you think initiated the Gladstone SSP ship to explode?” He smirked. “Not much gets by me, Jon. Not even your conversations with Jaxx while in central ops and the conversation you had with Senator Ken Furr about re-routing the fleet.”

Shaughnessy halted, digging his feet into the ground. He didn’t know what to do say or do. “That wasn’t on purpose. You set me up.”

Slade gritted his teeth. “You compromised our mission.” He scrunched his hands into a fist, butting his forehead against Shaugnessy’s.

Shaugnessy’s chinned trembled. He wanted to faint. Jaxx had warned him about Slade and now his life was in danger. “I can fix it.”

“Oh, I know you can. Follow me.” He gripped Shaugnessy by his upper arm and pulled him down the hall.

“Where are you taking me?”

Slade seethed, spit coming out of his mouth. “You’re going to give me the coordinates to the portal that Jaxx flew through.”

Shaughnessy feverishly shook his head. “No.” His eyes darted around as they turned a corner. “I don’t remember the numbers.”

“Yes you do.”

“I –”

Slade abruptly stopped and glared at Shaughnessy, baring his teeth like a predator. “Don’t talk.”

Shaughnessy dipped his head.

“We’re here.” Slade swiped his card on the control panel next to a door. The door opened. “You first.”

Shaughnessy walked into a storage room. It was empty. No computer. No supplies. No anything. Just four gray metallic walls with a space-side wall with a large, round loading port for any potential ship that wanted to dock with Starship Atlantis. And some empty crates.

Shaugnessy squirmed. “I don’t understand. I’m in a storage room.”

The door shut, leaving Shaughnessy in the room by himself. Slade stared at Shaughnessy through the door’s small circular window.

Shaugnessy’s face turned ashen. He pounded the door with his fists. “What are you doing?” He pushed a button to open the door. Then pressed again and again.

Nothing.

“Let me out!”

Slade smiled, then winked. He pressed a few buttons on the control panel in the hall next to the door, then stared blankly into Shaughnessy’s eyes.

A hiss filled the room. The airlock initiated, and the docking port shuddered.

“No, no. Slade, I’ll die.”

Slade nodded his head.

The airlock opened and the air escaped into the vacuum of space, Shaughnessy sucked out with it. He flew like a bat out of hell, watching Starship Atlantis and the Secret Space Program’s fleet move farther away from him and him farther away from it. In seconds, his body went from warm to freezing, his arms waiving wildly, his eyes burning. He took a breath and searing pain entered instead of oxygen. His heart pumped but two more times before it gave out. His vision went dark, then a flash of light consumed his eyes, and his body stiffened.

* * *

Slade stood in the doorway, arms crossed at his chest. “Were you expecting someone else to be with me?”

Craig looked up from his desk while turning another page of the top-secret report on Kaden Jaxx. Underneath the desk he flicked a button with his finger, turning on a hidden cam in the room. This feed would be going straight to Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore of the Secret Space Program. “In fact, I summoned Jon Shaughnessy. Where is he?”

Slade lowered his eyes. “He’ll no longer be meeting with you tonight...or ever.”

Craig knew what he meant and looked around for any hidden cameras or secretly placed audio devices. Slade was truly a whack-job but you keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. He liked the guy’s ideas, not the guy’s morality. He had to play it cool. But he was the president. No one fucked with that high of a ranking. Not even Slade. Playing it cool would suffice. “So, how long have you bugged my room?”

“I’ve bugged all the important official’s rooms.”

“We’re all important.”

“Some more so than others.”

“Right now, I don’t care. We have a mutiny on our hands. What troops are on our side and what troops aren’t?”

“We’ve got most of Deck 5 and some of Deck 7’s. I’ll convince the Fleet Admiral to bring his Space Marines, and I’ve contacted the Kelhoon leader, Kajka Okbak. They sent a special troop envoy. They’re here now, docked in the storage bays on Deck 6. I had to get them a special SSP signature so they’d seem like another SSP transport ship coming from another quadrant. It worked. They weren’t even contacted.”

Craig put his hands together, something was pulling on his last nerve. It was something they discussed earlier. “Why didn’t you tell me about Jaxx?”

“I did.”

“You told me he was the Goddamn key to opening up those alien pyramid power plants. You didn’t tell me he was alien himself.” Craig caught Loraine catching a glimpse of the conversation from the outside room. “Slade, step inside.”

Slade did and the door shut behind him.

“The last thing you need right now are more distractions, Mr. President.”

“Now, when you don’t tell me things, it becomes a distraction.” Craig flipped through some more pages. “According to this here document that you watched me read, Jaxx wasn’t born on our planet.”

Slade nodded. “Of course not. A man with those extraordinary powers has a different, more open DNA sequence than we do. But we’re learning that can be changed and our DNA can open up just like theirs can.”

“Another secret, Slade.” It was a statement, not a question. He looked at the document. “And guess what? I read more after you last left my office. It says here that you were there when these Beings from an undisclosed location within our solar system landed and gifted you Jaxx when he was a baby. You then adopted him out? Why the hell would you do that?”

Slade cracked a smile. “If you only knew. He was given to my mother. I was able to keep track of the boy the majority of his life. Then, we took him against his will and trained him in the art of combat – starfighter piloting, hand-to-hand fighting, and weapons special ops shit. That’s how we do things in the Secret Space Program. We take. We don’t ask. In return, we make people better, more disciplined, noble, loyal to the United States of America.”

“I see.” Craig looked at the document on his desk. “You knew about the Atlanteans on Callisto this entire time?”

“No. We found that out recently. We have been trying to locate where these Beings came from for decades. We were surprised we hadn’t found them sooner than we did. Hell, they were on Callisto this whole time. I don’t know how that escaped us.”

Craig flipped another page. “And he showed incredible skills during starfighter combat, but was more or less lacking during flight training?”

Slade leaned forward, annoyed. “Yes.”

“He was able to figure out the pyramids so quickly and read their writings at incredible speeds, understanding exactly what they meant because he was Atlantean?” asked Craig.

Slade winked. “You catch on quickly.” He spit on the floor and rubbed his boot in it. He took out a folded piece of paper and dropped it on Craig’s desk.

Craig held in a grin. Here we go. He took a quick peek at the camera, making sure it was dead panned on him. “What’s this?” questioned Craig, playing ignorant.

“I did a lot of thinking since I last left this office. I did a lot of things too.”

Craig opened it up, resting his temple against his hand. He pushed off his desk right away and crumpled the piece of paper and threw it at Slade. “Not a chance.”

Slade picked up the paper and unwrapped it. “Sign it.” He slammed it back on the desk, leaving his hand on the upper portion so Craig couldn’t throw it back at him.

“You’re asking me to give up my position as president so you can be the president on Callisto?”

Slade eyed him intently. “Yes. This is for technical reasons. The Kelhoon want me in charge. They like my style.”

“No president would do that.”

“I want you there with me, Mr. President. I don’t want to have to tell them that you’re not on board. They need the signature. They need proof you’re going to do what I’m asking. You don’t do this, then I don’t know what they’ll do to you or your daughters.”

Craig let out an angry laugh. “You’re threatening me? You’re crazy. I’m not signing a thing.”

“You must.” Slade gestured to Craig’s computer. “Turn it on.”

“Wha – ” Craig glanced around, looking at his hidden camera again. He hoped Lon was watching right now and perhaps somehow Ken or someone close to Ken had hacked into this feed. Maybe Ken’s eyes were glued to a holodisplay now, watching this drama take place. The more eyes seeing this, the better.

Slade pulled out his pistol. “Turn it on!”

Craig turned it on and a holoscreen folded open a few inches above his desk.

“Go to our spacenet and open the email I sent to you, titled, I have your wife and kids.”

Craig’s eyes went wide. “No. What did you do?”

“Open it up and you’ll see.”

Craig’s hands shook as he opened the spacenet and then his email.

“Press on the video,” ordered Slade.

Craig did and his wife, bound and gagged, hands tied behind her back, was sitting on a bed, her two young daughters next to her, both crying, also bound and gagged. On video, Slade walked into camera view and pressed a gun against Craig’s wife’s head. He pulled the trigger.

Craig shot up at once. “No!”

“If you don’t sign those papers, your daughters are next.”

Slade walked to the door and watched it open. He took a glance over his shoulder at the President. Craig put his head in his hands, sobbing, his shoulders shaking, whispering, “This isn’t happening...this...isn’t...happening.”

Slade stepped through the doorway. “Sign the papers, Mr. President.”

Craig slid his hand under the desk and flicked the camera switch off, then wiped his tears. He took in a deep breath and grinned. “Damn, I’m good.” It was a good act, one deserving a trophy even better than an Oscar.

The next step in their plan was well underway.

26

North of Flood of Dawn, Callisto ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System

Rivkah looked over the war field, lit by several of Jupiter’s pale moons glowing on the Kelhoon encampment.

Her palms were singeing with heat, her adrenaline nearly jumping through the atmosphere. She glanced at her hands. They were trembling, not out of fear, but energy.

The Kelhoon were falling over themselves, rushing this way and that way, grabbing weapons, jumping on turrets and rotating them into firing position.

A photon grenade lobbed over a temporary encampment wall, hurtled toward Rivkah. She thrust her hands out, directing Chi at the grenade. It blew apart and a cloud of purplish-blue erupted just above the wall, shards bombarded a Kelhoon tank gunner, throwing him off the tank. He was knocked out cold, green blood oozing from his leg.

Rivkah brought her hands up and glared at her palms. She was more powerful than she could have ever imagined. She was unstoppable.

She directed her hands downward and ran toward the wall, where Atlanteans and Kelhoon were in hand to hand combat. A Kelhoon ducked an Atlantean punch and grabbed the Atlantean’s legs, swiping his feet out from under him. The Atlantean landed on his back. The Kelhoon pulled out a dagger and raised his arm for an ending blow.

Rivkah aimed her hands in the Kelhoon’s direction.

The Kelhoon lifted off his feet. He spun around, swiping at air. Rivkah dropped her arm and the Kelhoon went down fast, bouncing off the ground – unconscious.

Rivkah rushed over to the Atlantean and pulled him to his feet, then bolted toward another Kelhoon kicking the shit out of several Atlanteans. Rivkah pushed the energy through her hands, targeting the Kelhoon’s legs. His legs were taken out from under him and he flopped face first onto the ground.

He twirled around just as an Atlantean landed a foot on his chest, pinning the Kelhoon to the cold, hard, slated land. The Atlantean pointed its trident at the Kelhoon. The three-pronged weapon sizzled, then recoiled as three blasts exited the pointed barrels. The Kelhoon twitched twice before it lay at rest, motionless.

“Stop fighting, Rivkah,” came Bogle’s voice inside Rivkah’s head. “Retrieve Fox and we’ll be on our way. We have no way of winning this battle, let alone this war.”

Rivkah dropped her arms by her side, her face twisted in a scowl. “Are you giving up on us again? Wow, Bogle, this was faster than I gave you credit for. My answer is, fuck you.”

“Look over the battlefield, Rivkah. This was only a diversion and a diversion for you to get Fox back into our ranks.”

Rivkah looked around. Atlanteans were holding, but it wouldn’t be for long. The Kelhoon were amassing after the surprise attack, gathering themselves for a big push. A Leaping Lizard starfighter lifted into the air.

“Dammit, you’re right.” Rivkah ran toward a rocky hill and crouched. She lunged forward, her hands aimed at the Leaping Lizard. The starfighter halted, as if it was doing its best to throttle forward, but it wouldn’t budge. Rivkah’s hands shook and she started to perspire. Out of the corner of her eye a heavy blast rocked the ground and Atlantean body parts flew everywhere.

“Get going, Rivkah. We don’t have time for you to play around with your gifts. Go!”

“Have I told you how much I want to kick the shit out of you, lately?” She shook her head and dashed forward, getting closer and closer to the Kelhoon encampment.

The problem was the starfighter was now loose from her energy grip and flew forward, passing directly overhead, strafing the landscape. Atlantean yells and screams accompanied their spilt blood over the battle terrain. Many were dying and there was more to come.

Rivkah reached for her phaser. “Dammit, Fox.” He had taken her gun and she knew this wouldn’t be the last time she reached for it.

She ran as fast as she could. She jumped over a downed Kelhoon, its green blood dripping out of its reptile, ugly-ass mouth, eyes wide and lifeless. “Fox, you got yourself up and captured. Now, I’m having to save your ass?”

Up ahead was a metallic wall. She zeroed in on a portion of the wall, the energy rising up her spine and to her brain, allowing her mind to make calculations nearly as fast as a computer. She pushed the Chi outward, sending a pulse wave at the wall. It washed through the wall, detecting subtle particles, then exited and swept back through it like a boomerang, absorbing back into Rivkah’s neural cortex. The wall was made from Bonvoid, a metal not found on Earth. It was stronger than the best armor the Earth could ever produce. Yet, her mind told her she was powerful enough to break through it.

She led with her hands, pulsing with hot, sizzling energy, and burst through a portion of the wall, collapsing it in front of her. A cloud of dust encircled her.

She advanced into the Kelhoon camp and dodged to the right. She was enjoying herself. “Last one in to stay alive is a rotten egg.” A drip of blood fell from her lip. She wiped it away. “Who’s first one down?”

A Kelhoon back-peddled, looking more surprised by Rivkah’s sudden appearance than scared. She watched as he finally realized what she was – a young, beautiful, healthy woman standing in front of him. Murder filled his eyes. Or was that hunger? She knew, to him, that she wasn’t the predator. She was the prey. The feast.

Rivkah didn’t see it that way. “I ain’t your food, lizard face.” Rivkah raced in his direction and the Kelhoon ran toward her, unclasping his gun from his holster. He pulled the trigger.

She side stepped as the phaser charge zipped by, nearly burning her hair. She slid and barreled into the Kelhoon, snapping his legs at the knees.

“Kajanka!” he yelled, rolling forward in pain, grasping at his knees.

Rivkah grabbed his phaser and stuck two shots into his temple. She bolted left, just as a dozen razor sharp bullets rained down on her position.

“Where am I going, Bogle?”

“Follow Fox’s trail. You’ll sense it.”

A gang of Kelhoon were rushing her position. One dropped to a knee and placed a heavy pulse cannon on his shoulder. He adjusted the scope, closed one eye, and fired.

Whooshka!

The cannon vibrated and a ball of ion energy expelled, purposely tipped with argon-ion injections to color the energy blue, so they would know exactly where the energy ball traveled. Good news for those who fired the shot and good news for Rivkah. She concentrated on the ball. She jumped to the side, rolling away from the energy charge.

The ion ball slammed into an unmanned, Kelhoon tank. The tank lifted off its sleds and bounded into the air, crashing back down. A black spot on the tank’s side armor marked the impact, but it had absorbed the ion cannon blast with ease.

Rivkah, knowing she had no chance against a mass of human-hungry Kelhoons, took off running in the opposite direction. She drained the Chi from her hands, moved it down her solar plexus, and finally into her legs. They heated up with every step she took, pulling her farther away from the oncoming Kelhoon soldiers.

A blast behind her threw rock and debris against her boots, but she dared not look behind her to see exactly what it was. It might stop her. It might slow her down. She hadn’t tested this powerful energy’s effects with running and right now wasn’t the best time to do so.

A section of the camp wall was up ahead. She darted in between a make-shift alleyway with two large buildings on either side. They butted up against the wall. The alleyway blocked the Kelhoon view of her for a moment and that’s all she needed.

Pumping hard, breathing heavy, she’d need a couple more steps before she could leap off the wall and find a new way inside or perhaps hide for a while to get them off her trail.

Two more steps. One more step. She planted her foot and jumped.

An arm wrapped around her hips and brought her to her feet, then another hand covered her mouth. She quickly pulled backward, the edge of her boot heels dragging on the ground. She did her best to wrestle herself free, but whoever had her was strong and somehow had the power as well.

A door opened and she was pulled into the building. A second later the door shut, leaving only blackness, and the dull thumps of the battle outside.

The capturer let up and Rivkah pushed away. She went into her customary Muay Thai defensive crouch, waiting for whoever it was that nabbed her. Probably a Kelhoon, or many of them.

She brought the Chi back into her hands and arms. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I would hope not.”

It was Bogle. What the hell was she doing here?

Kelhoons were giving chase, pounded past the building. They shouted incoherent noises at one another.

Rivkah looked over her shoulder and toward the sounds, ready for the Kelhoon to break in at any second.

“Don’t worry about that now. I have the door and building energetically locked. I don’t know how long that will hold, but it will hold for a while. Their sensors will detect us any minute, but they will not dare to blow this building up.”

“Why?”

“It has their most precious artifacts.”

“Like what?” Rivkah unclipped a flashlight from her belt and turned it on. She yelped and dropped it, took a step back, and covered her mouth. “You’re sick!”

A fist pounding on the door told Rivkah that the Kelhoon had found her locale. None of this was good. Bogle had led her into another trap.

27

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Slade pushed a soldier out of the way and aimed his gun. He pulled the trigger, then pulled it again.

P-taff! P-taff!

An enemy soldier, someone wanting to help the government take control of the ship, flopped like a rag doll to the ground. Blood oozed from his neck and head. Enemy guards ducked back around the corner of the hallway.

Senator Ken Furr’s and Governor Boz Brown’s piece of shit idea was working and Slade didn’t like it. Slade was not going to allow the mutineers to succeed, not by any means.

They had taken over Deck 7 and parts of Deck 6. He hoped they hadn’t found the envoy, the Kelhoon troops that were also on Deck 6, waiting in a few storage bays, ready to strike, probably digging in to the raw meat Slade had left them. They had been there for almost a week, sneaking past the Secret Space Program’s detection system in their transport ship, using the SSP signatures Slade had assigned them.

Slade rushed ahead through clearing smoke. He shot a volley towards the enemy soldiers, keeping them pinned in position. He went down another hallway, stopped and leaned his back against the wall. He eyed his soldiers, more than twenty, hiding in doorways, weapons ready. He put two fingers to his eyes and touched his hands together. He pointed forward, indicating two enemy squads were down the corridor. Two squads meant there’d be twenty-six soldiers, which was better than earlier in the day where they had downed three other squads trying to take over this deck.

His troops nodded.

Two put up their rifles, and dashed out of their doorway, moving to the next open doorway down the hall. Then the next two soldiers did the same, moving closer to the enemy.

Slade turned on his comm device on his shoulder and brought it close to his chin, notifying Central Ops on Deck 1, a command center that was still on his side. Headquarters, on the other hand, had turned against him. “I have a small team with me. We’ve almost got Deck 5 cleared. The politicians have more troops than I thought, but we’re in need of back up. Send ASAP. Copy?” They only had about a thousand well-trained soldiers on Starship Atlantis in the first place. These were the best of the best, taken from Earth, convinced to go along for the ride – and again, to be used as slaves and food some time down the road, but right now Slade needed to use them. And they needed to be the soldiers they were trained to be – ruthless, cunning weapons experts.

“Copy that, Colonel,” replied Central Ops. “We’re sending another squad.”

Slade rolled against the wall and took a few shots into the enemy’s position. His gun clicked, then clicked again. He unclipped his empty magazine, took a full one from his utility belt, and slammed it back into his semi-automatic.

There were more troops on the politicians’ side than he first thought. He imagined forty-percent were now with the assholes trying to take over the ship. It didn’t help that Deck 7 and Deck 5 were where the troop bunks were. It didn’t help that Deck 6 was where the majority of the politician's rooms were, either.

He whispered into his comm device, speaking to his troops. “We’ll take these guys if you rush their positions. We need three to lead, the rest follow. I’ll cover you until you pass my position. This should be quick and easy. Go.”

His soldiers hurried down the hall, opening phaser and bullet fire on the hiding enemy.

Slade curled around the corner, pulling his semi-automatic’s trigger several times, riddling the wall with bullets.

All of his troops but two passed him. He butted in front of the two and followed his team.

Bwoom!

A blast went off, concrete and metal splintered out in all directions and Slade was thrown backwards, flipping in the air, landing on his stomach. He let out a loud, “Oomph!” when he hit the hard floor.

He pushed himself up, his ears ringing. He shook his head like a dog and glanced up. His troop were a mess of limbs, guts, and blood scattered throughout the hallway. He glanced behind him, wondering if any of his troop had survived the explosion.

None had. Not even close. He was the only survivor. Then again, Slade always survived. It was his mantra.

He patted himself down, feeling shrapnel in his stomach, blood oozing from the wound. Why wasn’t he a pile of flesh like the rest of his soldiers? He didn’t have time to think about it. He had to get out of the blood-stained corridor and to the blocked off location a few corridors away.

“My team is lost. I’m going to ready another team,” he said into his comm device, while stumbling down another hallway.

“Excuse me, Sir?” replied Central Ops. He’d had 20 men in his command. Now there were zero. He needed reinforcements. He could hear the judgement in Central Ops’ simple response.

“They threw an explosive or perhaps rigged the hall with a loose-trigger bomb. I don’t know, but I don’t have time to find out.” He turned off his comm device and rushed down another hallway, running toward a temporary armored wall – their make-shift road block. It went from floor to ceiling. It did the trick well.

He pulled out his badge and waived it to the wall as he ran. The wall opened up, splitting down the middle and opening inward. More than thirty of his soldiers, weapons drawn, pointing at any potential mutiny-troop on his tail, were on the other side.

Slade dashed past the wall and it closed up behind him. He halted and slumped to the floor, the gouge in his stomach burning. He cringed, attempting to pull the shrapnel out. It was too painful, too sharp. He had to do it anyway. He slid to the floor, closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth in readiness. He needed to yank it out before he lost any more blood.

“Stop,” yelled Doctor Andrea Cross. She bent over him, her eyes full of concern. “You pull that out and you might bleed to death, especially if it dug into your inferior vena cava vein.” She gestured to a few troops.

They lifted him up and escorted him to a room nearby.

Andrea was already inside, a syringe in her hand. She flicked it a couple of times. “Put him on the table and leave.”

The soldiers did and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind them.

She jabbed the syringe in his stomach and pressed on the syringe’s plunger, pushing clear liquid into his body. She tossed the syringe into a waste basket. She grabbed the forceps from the table and strode over to Fox. She clutched the shrapnel with her forceps, and pulled the piece of metal out of his skin.

“Agh!” Slade stiffened. “Damn, doc.”

She placed a cloth over the wound to stop the bleeding, then gave Slade an odd look. “Wait a minute. What is this?” She pulled the cloth away.

Slade glanced down at his wound. It coagulated quickly, too quickly. It hardened and scabbed. “I’ve never healed so fast. What the hell is going on?”

“Do you think it’s Jaxx’s blood?” She nodded, answering her own question. “It has to be.”

“You’re kidding me.” Slade held a big smile. “I’m invincible? I mean, you should have seen it. I was practically in the middle of a Goddamn explosion and I came out almost unscathed.”

“Our next step is to figure out how to manipulate energy like Jaxx does.”

“Amid this mutiny?”

“Yes.”

“Shit.” He thought for a moment, and of all things he pictured himself back in Deck 5’s West End Gym, doing curls, flexing his biceps. He wished he could just work out instead of shooting the shit out the mutiny-troops, but things were complicated. He touched his hardened scab on his stomach, a surge of Chi entering his body, making him feel good and powerful. “We start my training just as soon as I have this mutiny a bit more under control.”

28

Somewhere in Tennessee, United States ~ Earth

Mya had cooled from raging hot to pleasantly warm. Drew picked her up, laying her limp body against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder, one arm under her thighs, the other against her back, stabilizing her head.

A Range Rover pulled up, almost skidding to a halt, gravel splashing across Drew’s legs.

It was Anderle. The guy needed to learn how to drive.

T-hacker opened the passenger door and hurried out, opening the back door for Drew. Drew got in, sliding across the leather bucket seat in the back. He held Mya tight, trying to make sure she didn’t fall forward.

She was out like a light, her breathing slow, though steady.

T-hacker shut the door, then jumped in, shutting his own door in the process.

“We ride,” said Anderle. He pressed the pedal to the floor and spun out, barely avoiding the flaming Range Rover in front of them.

Drew glanced at Mya’s head, then eyed Anderle in the rear-view mirror. “Did you see what she did?” A VHF, very high frequency, radio was screwed into the dashboard. It was a hand-held gadget he’d seen in boats, similar to CB, citizen band, radio in semi-trucks. It was good for long distances and emergencies.

Anderle nodded his head frantically. “Sure as shit I did. She has powers man. I’m telling you, we get her father here, her powers go up ten-fold. I was going to use her on my team, but now we have other shit to figure out and that shit is to survive those ET’s flying through the portals. Mya is our secret weapon.”

“What?” asked Drew, not quite comprehending this new sci-fi reality hitting his life. Heck, hitting every person’s life on the face of earth.

“Yeah,” responded T-hacker. “Ships that came through the portal above the Pyramids of Giza are heading our way, man. They are heading toward the United States. You should see the mess they created in Egypt and North Africa. And these ships aren’t just appearing over Egypt. They are all over the map.”

Anderle skidded around a curve, pinning Drew against the door for a moment. He straightened the car out and gave T-hacker a light punch in the shoulder. “You got the remote ready?”

T-hacker held it up. “Yep.”

“Are you going to tell me where we are going?” Drew said.

Thrump Thrump Thrump Thrump!

Drew glanced up through the sun roof. In the gaps in the forest canopy, he could see a helicopter coming in low.

“We’re heading to the helicopter,” said T-hacker.

“Can you be a little more specific? Why are you heading for a helicopter?” questioned Drew.

Anderle glanced in his rear-view mirror. “You’ll see soon enough, Drew.”

They drove in silence for several hours on a gravel back road. Sometimes the helicopter came in view and other times it was nowhere to be seen. There was no rhyme or reason to why that was and Anderle drove as if he had a destination in hand. He never once looked up at the helicopter and when the helicopter was in sight, he never gave it so much as a glance.

Finally, Anderle slowed, turning off on a beaten roadway that quickly turned into an area that hadn’t been driven on in years. The car bounced up and down, driving over small saplings, brush, and over grassy embankments.

A minute later, they stopped.

Anderle turned off the car and swung his door open. “We’ve got a surprise in that helicopter. Get out and watch this,” said Anderle.

The helicopter sounded closer.

Drew pushed his door open and held Mya as they ascended a small hill, T-hacker and Anderle leading the way. “What do you have in your hand?”

“What? This?” T-hacker held a remote controller in his hand with two joysticks. “You’ll see.”

Drew was tired of all the secrecy. They crested the hill and got low in a crouch. Down below was a man in handcuffs, blindfolded, with two Chinese soldiers next to him, their hands around his arms. A black car was parked next to them.

The trees bent back and forth as the chopper came in for a landing.

Drew covered Mya with his arms and hands, doing his best to keep her warm from the helicopter’s rushing wind.

It touched down and Drew moved up on the hill a little more to catch a better glimpse of the proceedings below.

T-hacker pushed the remote controller in front of him, laying it on the ground, and put both hands on the joysticks.

Anderle pressed a button on the controller. “Don’t forget to turn it on.”

T-hacker looked at the digital gauge, then put his thumbs up. “We’re hooked in. Ready to go whenever they are.”

“What are you doing?” asked Drew.

Anderle lay in watch as well. “That guy down there in handcuffs? Well, that’s Mya’s dad. Me and General Lin Yu had him kidnapped just before Yu went all psycho on us. The Chinese down there obviously don’t know that Yu is dead, so their mission is still moving ahead as planned and on schedule. Better yet, what they don’t know is that we’ve got the helicopter hooked up to our remote controller. General Lin Yu’s peeps down there think they’ll be taking Master Sergeant Angel Segarra to Lookout Mountain to meet up with Yu. We think not.”

“So, you have this remote here hooked up to the helicopter’s flight system? Where are you going to take him?” inquired Drew.

Anderle put his finger up. “Hold on.”

The Chinese soldiers ushered the man inside the helicopter’s cabin. They shut the door and rushed back to the black car, turned it on, and slowly drove away. The helicopter lifted off, the wind whipping the grass against Drew’s face, then flew over the trees and toward Lookout Mountain.

T-hacker sat up, adjusting his controller. “Turning off radio communication. Checking speed.” He moved the joystick. “And turning them around.”

Anderle stood. “Let’s get back to the car.”

They ran down the hill and piled into the Range Rover, T-hacker controlling the helicopter overhead, moving it northwest.

“How can you tell where you are flying?” said Drew, reaching the car, holding Mya and getting inside.

“Two ways,” said T-hacker, sitting on the passenger seat. “I have contacts in my eyes which are connected to a camera I installed underneath the helicopter’s nose. And, I can see from here.” He held up the remote controller. A small screen was atop the controller, showing him a map of where the helicopter was at all times.

Anderle reversed, running over a small, spindly maple tree, then spun the Rover around. A young family, a skinny man and a woman with two small children were all wearing clothes that didn’t scream homeless, held out dirty plates and cups. They were literally begging for food. Out in the woods?

Anderle drove past them, not giving them the time of day.

“Stop and let them in. They need help.”

Anderle grimaced. “You’ll see a lot of that Drew. The United States is going to shit in a handbag. Everyone is out of work. It’s the wild west again. No food in the grocery stores, but this time around people don’t know how to hunt and gather food anymore.”

Drew turned his body as best he could while holding Mya, to look back at the pathetic beggars. The people had simply moved on, walking into the forest, except for one small boy. He sat and wept. “Please go back and get them.”

“No. We’re heading to Whitefish, Montana. That’s the safest place in the United States right now. We’ll have a high-ranking Marine to help us get inside.”

“That Marine is Angel Segarra?” asked Drew.

Anderle shrugged. “Do not tell anyone about Mya’s power or the fact that she is even stronger around her dad. Got it?” Anderle glanced at T-hacker. “Radio it in?”

He grabbed the remote off of its magnetic hold. He pressed a few buttons, tuning it to the right channel.

“Notify the Marines that Master Sergeant Angel Segarra is en-route to Sumner County Regional Airport via a helicopter. Let them know we need them and to send some troops to said airport. Tell them we’re in a white Range Rover. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Drew fished inside his pants pocket for a doobie. Of course, his pockets were empty. They had been for weeks.

God, he needed a puff.

29

Near Taiyo Orbit, Sector 9 ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

Jaxx spun in space. His jumpsuit and helmet regulated his temperature with a built-in heating and cooling system, keeping him warm in the deep, dark void’s terrible freeze. He checked his oxygen levels, then realized he had no gauge to check. He had no idea how long he had to live. Hours? Minutes? Seconds?

“Hello, Zara? Anyone?”

His heart raced. He took slow, shallow breaths, doing his best not to take up too much oxygen. He didn’t want to run out before his rescuers came – if they came.

“Yo, Zara? Abdu?”

No one was answering his calls.

A light flashed by and he started to spin faster, as if he was nudged. But he didn’t feel anyone or anything touch him.

“Dare, desuka?” A familiar voice came over Jaxx’s helmet comm line.

“Kiyo-zan?” It sounded like Kiyo, a Taiyonian he befriended during his time on Taiyo.

“Hai, watashi desu.”

Jaxx put his thumb up, doing his best to crack a smile under this terrible spinning duress. “I’m getting a bit dizzy. Can you pick me up?”

“Hai, soo desu ze.”

“Thank you.”

Another flash zipped by him, then a pulling sensation enveloped his body accompanied with a pretty nasty tug.

“Whoa! Slow it down there, Kiyo-zan.”

“Gomen’nasai.”

“You’re sorry? Well, don’t be. You’re saving my life.” Jaxx’s body stopped spinning and he faced a small Taiyonian transport ship. It’s side door was open, a tractor beam turret bolted on the inside of the transport ship’s cabin.

The tractor beam slowly sucked him in.

Jaxx looked down at his feet hovering in the blackness of space and finally over the lip of the ship’s opening. The tractor beam shifted on its turret, and the nose moved down and gently set Jaxx on his feet. His boots automatically magnetized to the cabin’s floor and the door closed. The cosmos disappeared from view, a silver door now in its place. The cabin hissed and filled with oxygen.

He took a step toward the cockpit and halted in front of a metallic wall that separated the cockpit from the cabin. A red-light highlighted the barrier. The wall clicked and the light turned to a light blue just as a crease opened up down the middle of the wall, splitting it in two, turning it into a door.

Fffffcha!

The door spread apart, each section sucking into the transport ship’s side walls.

Kiyo-zan stood from his captain’s chair, a big smile on his face, teeth shining, reminding Jaxx of the pristine health of all those living on Taiyo.

Jaxx took off his helmet and dropped it on the floor. “Kiyo-zan!” He lifted his arms out wide and so did Kiyo-zan.

They wrapped their arms around each other, giving one another a nice, long bear hug.

“Wareware wa anata zo nogashita. Anata zi aitakatta. Mōichido ai zi kite ureshīdesu.”

“I missed you and all those on Taiyo as well. Nice to see you again, buddy.”

They let go and Jaxx slapped Kiyo-zan’s shoulders, getting another good look at him, like a father to a long, lost son. “You haven’t aged a bit.”

“Watashitachi wa toshi zo toranai,” explained Kiyo-zan.

“Yeah, I know you don’t age. Could you rub some of that anti-aging mojo on me?”

Kiyo-zan touched Jaxx’s third eye. “Rōka wa anata zo kokoronouchi dakedesu. Sono shin'nen zo yamereba, anata wa rōka zo tomerudeshou.”

“I know, I know.” Jaxx nodded his head up and down with his lips upturned. “Age is all in my mind. An unhealthy belief system. That still doesn’t tell me anything about anti-aging, my man.”

Kiyo-zan sat behind the control stick, motioning for Jaxx to take a seat at the co-pilot’s chair. Once Jaxx was seated, Kiyo-zan dipped his head. “Yuko!”

Kiyo-zan pressed the stick forward and in seconds, planet Taiyo came into view, the blue glow of its unpolluted oceans accompanied by its lush, green terrain lit up the cosmos, stars twinkling in the distance behind it. It was a spectacle to be seen, only matched by Earth.

In minutes, they had entered the Taiyo heliosphere. Kiyo-zan tilted the transport ship to a forty-five degree angle and turned on anti-gravity drives, making the transition from space into the Taiyonian atmosphere smooth and simple.

Below, the four legged Kimos – cat-like animals the size of elephants with blue turtle shells – ran with speed and agility across a verdant green plateau, heading toward the jungle. A herd of Misa – similar to ostriches, though pink flamingo in color – followed, like children after their parents.

In the distance was a vast city over a lake. The lake was clear and had an inner glow, all azure hues and Mediterranean blues. It was late morning and the sun shone down on the city, which glimmered like a shimmering artwork; another reminder of how beautiful this city and this planet truly was – a true marvel.

The city’s outer rim had small domes equivalent to the size of three or four-story buildings. Attached to each dome was a fully-covered walkway or roadway that attached to larger domes toward the center of the city. The closer to the center of the city the bigger the domes became. The largest dome was directly in the middle.

Crafts flew above the city, some entering through openings in the domes, others exiting.

“God, I missed this place. So calm. So serene,” Jaxx spoke more to himself than to Kiyo-zan.

Kiyo-zan veered right, brows furrowed. He gave Jaxx a fearful look.

“What’s going on, Kiyo-zan?”

Kiyo-zan pointed to the sky. A dark cloud was moving in, red lightning electrifying in and out of it. “Agadon za kite iru.”

“That’s the Agadon?”

Kiyo-zan nodded.

“That’s a fucked-up cloud. Explain to me how that’s the Agadon?”

“Karera wa piramiddonettowāku zo shiyō shite imasu.”

“They are entering through the pyramid network here as well?” Jaxx shook his head. “The doesn’t explain the strange looking cloud, Kiyo-zan.”

“Watashitachi wa sorera zo oshimodosou to shite imasu. Ugoite inai.”

“Yeah, your technology is pushing them back? That’s what creates the cloud? Will that actually work?”

“Īe, soreha dōsa shimasen.”

“Yeah, didn’t think that would work for long. At least it delays them.”

Kiyo-zan lowered the craft, entering through a dome. Hills with flowing rivers, waterfalls, and hovering sail boats careened around the inner sanctum of the dome. Hanging vines of purple flowers hung from the walls. The peace and beauty made the chaos about to come that much worse.

He sighed.

Kiyo-zan pulled the craft into a fly-way, a tunnel attaching one dome to another until they exited out the other side, entering an even larger dome. Several Leonian vessels and combat-mechs were parked around a pointed sky scraper reaching high into the dome.

Kiyo-zan went in for a landing and hovered. The ship shuddered when the landing gear touched the earth. Kiyo-zan opened the cabin door. He unstrapped and rushed outside. “Yuko! Yuko!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Hold your trousers.” Jaxx jumped out of the transport and raced after Kiyo-zan, his boots sinking into the soft, mossy grass.

Kiyo-zan threw the sky-scraper main doors open. The High Queen was sitting with Zara and Abdu, giving the new arrivals a pained, watery gaze. The queen dipped her head to Kiyo-zan, then stood and bowed to Zara and Abdu. She quickly left the room, racing through another door.

“There is no time to rest, Jaxx,” said Zara. “Another battle with the Agadon is on the way. High Queen Emi says they are manipulating the pyramid network the best way they can, attempting to disrupt the Agadon entry through their planet’s atmosphere.”

Kiyo-zan bowed at Jaxx, then to Zara and Abdu. He put his hands together, a sign of apology, and dashed through the doors through which Queen Emi had exited.

Abdu laughed. “The Agadon retreated in defeat, then tried to surprise us by entering the Taiyo atmosphere by slipping through the pyramid network. They could fool us once on our planet, but we notified Queen Emi that the Agadon might do it here as well.”

“And how long will we be able to hold them off until they fully manifest into this world?” asked Jaxx, not really knowing if his terminology was correct.

Zara lifted her shoulders, her chains jingling as she did so. “Anything from a minute to a day.”

The sky thundered, rumbling the earth.

Zara let out a growl. “Or now.” She grabbed Jaxx by the back of the shirt and lifted him up, carrying him out of the building. “Get into a Taiyo starfighter. They tell me you’re the best in those things. Be one with it, Jaxx.” She planted her fist in her hand, then dipped her head. “Once we hold these blue-bastards off, we will get you back to Callisto. There we will close up the portals before these Agadon destroy entire solar systems.”

Jaxx nodded.

A gust of wind blew against Zara and Abdu’s fur and flung Jaxx’s hair up, flapping his clothes in the wind. They looked up. A starfighter towing another starfighter by an electric blue light was hovering just above. It moved towards them.

Abdu slapped Jaxx’s shoulder. “See you on the battlefield.” Abdu turned and ran toward his combat-mech, Zara directly on his heels and heading toward her own mech.

An explosion knocked Jaxx on his side. He rolled and pushed himself up, then rolled away as fast as he could. A golden light washed over the land, lighting the grass and buildings on fire, pieces of the dome crashing against the ground.

The center of the dome blew open and more pieces plummeted onto the city, raising smoke and cinder everywhere, exposing the inner city to the sky.

An Agadon star carrier came into view. A hefty beam weapon on its starboard side sent hot, amber energy down upon the city. If Jaxx’s eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, there were hundreds of starfighters exiting one of its bays, heading in for a strafe run.

30

Edge of M-Quadrant, Nearing Jupiter ~ Starship Atlantis

Slade could hear explosions coming from the deck below him. He stomped his foot on the floor inside Andrea’s doctor’s office. “I think we’re losing the battle.”

Andrea blinked. Slade could tell that was the last thing she wanted to hear. “What are you going to do?”

“Watch.”

“What do you mean?”

He sat on the doctor’s table and patted the space beside him, asking for her to hop up and sit next to him.

She did.

“You want to see something?” he eyed Andrea.

Andrea shrugged. “What you got?”

He tapped his watch and a hologram popped up. “This is the combat taking place right now. I have hidden cameras on every area of Starship Atlantis.” He waved his hand over the holodisplay and sat up. “Holy shit, Ken is actually in the fight? I hope the motherfucker dies slowly.”

Slade watched as Ken gripped a hand grenade and grasped the pull ring with his middle finger and twisted. The grenade’s pin released.

Slade chuckled. “This doesn’t look good.” He winked, then frowned. “Wait. Where is he?” Slade zoomed out. Ken was positioned on a metal grating in a hallway with Slade’s troops beneath him, unaware.

Ken looked down and leaned over the grating, dropping the grenade. He stood, and quickly ran on the grate in the opposite direction.

Dakadakadaka!

Ken dove forward, covering his head as sparks flew from bullet fire clanging against the metal.

Baroom!

The grenade blew.

Slade slapped his face. “Fuck me.”

His troops – their faces half gone, their skin hanging off their bodies, their limbs sliced in half – were strewn about the deck.

Slade moved his finger over the hologram and highlighted Ken, seeing him run to the end of the hallway, hop off the grate, and land next to his troops. One gave him a thumbs up, the others advanced, shooting their weapons with deadly aim.

Baroom!

Ken ducked.

Another explosion went off.

Slade stood, pressed a few buttons on his watch, and yelled, “Get more troops down on Deck 6.” He unholstered his gun. “I’ll be down there in a second.”

“Aye, Colonel.”

Slade bolted out of the doctor’s office and down the hallway. He continued to watch Ken and his troops. They were sending phaser fire down the corridor, downing more of Slade’s allies.

Slade punched the wall. They were breaking through his line and heading in his direction.

He turned around and hurried back into Andrea’s office.

“Bad news?” asked Andrea, her face screwed up in worry.

Slade dipped his head. “They’re coming. Lock this door and only let me back in, okay? If they somehow get in your office, play dumb, and they will leave you alone. To them, you’re the starship’s doctor, not just mine.” He crossed his arms. “I have to go somewhere, but I’ll be back.” He thought for a moment. “And when I come back, we’ll start my training right away like you want me too. Let’s see if I can singlehandedly stop Ken’s rebellion.”

* * *

Starship Atlantis’s head information technician slid his ID card into a door. President Craig Martelle stood behind him, his chin trembling, his eyes red from crying. God, he loved acting. And everything was still going as planned.

Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore rubbed his back. “I saw it all on my vidfeed, Mr. President. Slade is an insane murderer.”

Craig stiffened, baring his teeth. “You don’t think I know that?”

Lon pulled back. “I sincerely apologize, Mr. President.”

The door to the room opened and Craig took three steps inside. He fell to his knees, putting his hands over his face.

Lon put his hand on Craig’s shoulder, probably not knowing what else to say or do. He surveyed the room, then put his head down. “This is sickening.” Lon brought his shouldered radio device to his mouth. “I need SSP Space Marines and medics to room 294, ASAP.”

Blood stained the wall next to the bed’s head rest, and the bedspread was drenched in blood. Craig’s wife was on her side, her eyes were open, and her face was pale.

There was a scratching and whimpering coming from the far side of the room.

Craig dropped his hands from his face. His eyes tracked the sound to its source. He stood, pushed Lon aside, and rushed over to a door at the other end of the room, doing his best to avoid any eye contact with his now-deceased wife. What Craig had done — setting her up and having her killed — even he was a little ashamed.

He turned the door knob. It was locked. He kicked the door. “Girls? Are you in there?” Without taking a moment to listen, he charged over to the information tech and pulled him to the door. “Open it.”

The guy swiped the card and the door beeped.

Before Craig could reach for the knob, the door came barreling open, and a young girl jumped out, sobbing, holding on to Craig for dear life.

Craig rushed her out of the room, doing his best to keep his daughter’s eyes off of her mom and to the hallway past the room’s entryway.

Space Marines side stepped them and walked quickly into the room. Medics, carrying a gurney, were close behind.

Craig bent down and wiped the girl’s tears. “We’re going to get you to a safe place.” He bit his lip. “Where is your sister?”

She held on to his arm tightly, resting her cheek on his bicep. “Daddy, I want to go home. I want to go back. Please.”

Craig nodded. “Okay, sweetheart.” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Where is your sister?”

“He took her with him.”

“Who is he?”

“The bad man who killed Mommy.” Her crying picked up.

Craig called over his shoulder. “Lon.”

Lon peeked around the entryway then stepped out into the hall. “Yes, Mr. President.”

“My youngest daughter is missing. We need to case every room on this damned ship.” He hugged his daughter, Claudia – her brown hair in a pony tail, her large brown eyes looking up to him for comfort, her chin trembling even more than Craig’s. “Do you know what direction they went?” Craig knew exactly where his daughter was, but he had to continue playing the part.

She shook her head, her wet cheeks smearing on Craig’s.

“And, Lon,” said Craig. “I don’t care where Slade wants to take this ship. We’re heading back to Earth.”

Lon stared at him for a moment. Finally, he dipped his head. “Will do, Mr. President.”

Craig dropped his chin to his chest and closed his eyes, doing his best to act sad. “Do me a favor?”

“Yes, Sir?”

He made his voice crack. “When you find Slade.” He covered his daughter’s ears. “Do the worst you can. Then kill him”

* * *

Slade stood in a storage room, eyeing his watch’s holoscreen. He perked up when he heard Craig tell the Fleet Admiral to end Slade’s life and a slow smile grew on his lips. “Nice job, Craig. Way to put some oomph in it.”

Slade had every hallway, room, loading bay, and mess hall bugged. Every piece of clothing President Craig Martelle wore had a miniature chip in it. He could follow Craig around Starship Atlantis no matter where he went. And Craig could do the same with Slade. It was part of their agreement to make sure each one wasn’t fucking the other over.

He pushed his finger through the holoscreen, his index finger turning the many vibrant colors the holoimage was presenting, and the hologram turned off.

He unholstered his pistol, pressed the button on the side of the hand grip and ejected his magazine. He pulled back the rack and pushed up on the slide lock, revealing the chamber. He placed a bullet in the magazine, then another one until the magazine was full. He inserted the magazine back into the hand grip, and pushed firmly upward into the hand grip. A click told him it was locked and loaded.

He gently tapped the back of the magazine with his palm so he could align the ammunition. He pushed down on the safety lever at the gun’s rear, disengaging it. The side lock slid forward on its own. He aimed it at the wall and closed one eye. He mimicked a shot, this time at the imaginary fleet admiral in front of him. “Pew, pew, Lon.”

He gave the wall a wink, then held the gun to his side and glanced down at his feet. “Let’s get this shit on the road, shall we?”

A murmur in the room interrupted him. He turned, staring at Craig’s daughter, bound and gagged. She was small and probably very precious to Craig.

He pouted, over exaggerating the jut of his bottom lip. “Believe me when I tell you this, but you’re safe. I’m not going to hurt you. You’ll see your daddy soon enough.”

The girl sputtered, snot dripping from her nose. Craig wouldn’t be pleased how Slade had his daughter tied up, but he had to keep her as quiet as possible. And this guaranteed it. Or at least her voice would be muffled by the gag he had in her mouth, especially if she screamed and screamed. She being tied to a metal column in the room would keep her from making her way to the door as well, also something Craig wouldn’t be to happy seeing, but oh well, life goes on.

“Bye, sweetheart.” He opened the storage door, pulled a rectangular device out of his pocket, and eyed it. A holovid pulled up, showing a map and several blue dots, indicating key people he had secretly tapped and tracked.

Slade gave a half smile, his crow’s feet only wrinkling a little. He walked out of storage, closing the door quietly behind him, then jogged toward one of the blue dot’s direction. “See you soon, Ken.”

31

North of Flood of Dawn, Callisto ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System

Another pound on the door and Rivkah backed away. “We have to get out of here.”

Bogle patted Rivkah’s back, doing her best to console her. “We have time. Fox is next door.”

“Out of all the rooms, you had to choose this one?”

“They won’t blow this one up, Riv. That’s why.”

Rivkah bent down, searching the floor for her flashlight. The door vibrated and screeched. “Are they breaking through?”

“It looks like they are attempted to burn a hole in the door.”

The metallic door glowed red and began to warp.

“We have like ten minutes,” said Rivkah.

“Less than that.”

She touched a round, hard object. It was her flash light. She stood and turned it on, sweeping a beam of light across the ground until it landed on the door, a door that was starting to bulge. “I thought you had some type of energy lock on the door or something?”

“I do,” said Bogle.

Rivkah turned around, flashing the light on Bogle, then backed up, bringing her hand to her mouth, the gorge rising in her throat, nearly vomiting all over the ground. “What the fuck? Are they sociopaths?”

Atlantean women and children were in large glass tubes lining the wall. They floated in some type of thick, clear liquid with hoses hooked into their mouths. The problem was, they were disemboweled and their limbs were sliced off and left floating next to their bodies.

“They’re not even dead,” observed Rivkah, still doing her best to keep the contents in her stomach from coming up.

Bogle shook her head. “Humans and other sentient-beings are the Kelhoon’s food. We’re their food. We are nothing more than two-legged cattle to them. In essence, these Kelhoon warriors are farmers, gathering their crop to take back home and to their other worlds. In doing so, they drain resources from planet to planet to take back to their nation of worlds as well.”

“How do you know this?”

Bogle puffed out her lower lip. “I don’t know. I just do. There is a lot I know that I didn’t know before. Things are changing within me and –”

The door cracked and Rivkah spun. The door still held, but the bulging was getting worse, more warped, and molten-hot

Rivkah pointed her Kelhoon phaser – a phaser she’d picked up on the battlefield – and aimed it at the door. “One of them is going to be in for a nice surprise.”

Bogle placed her hand on the top of the phaser and pushed it down, lowering it to Rivah’s side.

“What are you doing?” questioned Rivkah.

“Let them in, unharmed.” Bogle bent down on one knee, her head lowered, her hands touching the ground. “Do what I do.”

The door cracked a little more. A pale light slipped inside, sending beams across the floor.

Rivkah lifted her phaser. “I’m not liking your plan, so hell no.”

“They won’t harm us if we bow to them. It is a way of surrender. They will look at us as obedient slaves, rather than food. Please do this, Rivkah.”

Rivkah bared her teeth, pointing her phaser squarely at the door. “Not a chance.”

“This is how we can get into Fox’s room and align with him. That will give us a better chance at escaping. Don’t let a surrender blind you from the bigger win. We’ll get Fox and start heading toward our goal.”

“Our goal? What are you talking about?”

The door burst open and spun off its hinges. Red-flames blazed from the door as it slid across the floor. A handful of Kelhoons stood at the entrance, rifles at the ready, red laser sights dotting Rivkah’s chest.

“Bend down, Rivkah,” said Bogle.

“Never.”

“Do it for Jaxx.”

“What? How will this help him?”

“Joonka, movat!” growled a Kelhoon.

“That means get on your knees or you’ll die, Rivkah. If you’re lucky, they’ll let you live until they eat you.”

The Kelhoon stepped in, their heavy boots clanging against the floor. “Joonka, movat!”

Rivkah slowly shook her head. She could take out a couple with her Chi and a few more with her stolen phaser. “Nope, lizard-head.” Her hands started heating up. “Just come a few steps closer so mama can end your miserable lives.”

The phaser leapt out of her hand and bounced against the floor, moving quickly toward a Kelhoon. It stopped at its feet. The Kelhoon bent at the waist and picked up the phaser, looked it over, and placed it in one of his empty holsters.

Rivkah crouched, getting into a defensive fighting position. “However that lizard breath took my gun, he ain’t gonna do it again.”

“They don’t know how to use Chi like we do, Rivkah. He didn’t disarm you. I did.”

Rivkah clinched her teeth. “You’re turning against us again.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Jooovka mooolkaka,” said a Kelhoon.

“He wants us to know we are going to be good slaves,” said Bogle.

“You will. Not me. I’ll be dead by morning.”

Bogle trained her eyes to the floor. “When will you trust me?”

A Kelhoon marched over to Rivkah.

Rivkah threw a punch, landing it on his stomach. She brought up her energy just as a whip took her legs out from under her, sending her onto her back. A Kelhoon pulled her up and energy cuffs materialized around her hands. She went to turn her Chi back on, but a rush of ice cold energy enveloped her head. She went limp in surprise and fell back to the floor and onto her side. She strained to get up, but was too cold, too numb. She twisted over and onto her back, a copper tipped spear glowing in front of her. Whatever that was, it was powerful.

“You just don’t know how to use it properly. They wouldn’t be able to do that if you knew how Chi really worked.”

The Kelhoon grabbed Rivkah’s hands and dragged her toward the exit. “I’ll hopefully Chi your head off, soon, Bogle.”

“Fine, but after we meet our ultimate goal, to close the pyramid network and stop the negative ET races from using the portals, then open the network up properly and let good flow in all directions. If by then you still don’t trust me, I deserve to die.”

They pulled Bogle off the floor, materializing energy cuffs around her as well.

“Gookja!” came a powerful voice.

Rivkah’s eyes turned cold and hard.

Fox and Okbak were standing at the doorway.

Rage filled Rivkah. “Fox, you greedy –”

Fox gave Rivkah strong eye contact. “I’m here to save you and Bogle.”

The energy restraints zipped off Rivkah and dematerialized.

Rivkah pulled her arms loose from the Kelhoon soldier’s leathery hands and stood, rubbing her wrists. “And I’m just supposed to follow you while you’re with that...thing?” She gave Okbak a horrified stare.

“It’s about Jaxx. I have something important to show both of you.”

Bogle stepped back. “Don’t trust him, Rivkah.”

Fox shot Bogle a look. “I saved Rivkah and you know it, Bogle. I led her to you. Not for my safety, but for hers. And now I made a deal to save us all.”

Rivkah took a step toward Fox. It was true. He had saved her life and led her to Bogle.

“Rivkah, stop,” ordered Bogle. “Look into his eyes. He’s not saying the words, Okbak is. Fox is claiming to save us all, but leaving Jaxx out of it.”

Rivkah looked past his eyes and to a device under his earlobe and on his neck. Shit. It was a Kelhoon control device. Anyone with this embedded in their skin were commanded by the Kelhoon. Fox was under Okbak’s instructions, doing as the Kelhoon leader wanted. She had to get it off of Fox.

“Gookja!” hissed Okbak.

A guard marched forward and unclipped a black, metal hilt. He held it up and away from himself. His arm twitched when an energy whip projected from the hilt, humming and shining a bright cyan-colored electricity.

The guard reared back, then whipped it against the wall, slashing a diagonal line, singeing it black. Smoke rose from the imprint and electricity danced all around it, then faded into the wall. The soldier dropped the whip by his side, saliva dripping from of his mouth as he eyed Bogle.

“Goddammit, Bogle. You win. I’ll do as you ask…” Bogle was the other link, the third person they needed around Jaxx to shut the network. She wanted the bitch to die, but right now couldn’t allow death to take her. She took a heavy step toward Okbak. “I take whatever deal you have. As long as you keep miss beauty queen over there safe and by my side. Do you understand?”

Okbak laughed, then wiped his mouth. His eyelids opening and closing in his socket like a lizard, his pupil enlarging then narrowing. He dipped his head and extended his hand. “Oojkana.”

“Okbak agrees,” translated Fox.

32

Gallatin, Tennessee ~ Earth

“This is going to be a stand-off. This is nuts.”

The Humvees pulled up and parked parallel to the helicopter, making sure their driver’s side doors faced the Chinese. They were no more than ten yards away. The gunners placed the .50 calibers in firing position, aiming them at the helicopter’s cabin door. The passenger side Humvee doors opened and two or three Marines exited each Humvee, using the vehicles as shields, pointing their rifles at the helicopter.

Anderle had driven the Range Rover for several hours, finally ending here, Sumner County’s Regional Airport. Mya was awake and the Marines were here, setting up a perimeter around the helicopter containing Mya’s dad, all its doors internally locked by T-hacker’s remote controller. Drew wanted to protect her from whatever came next, but he had no clue how to prevent the little girl who was huddled up next to him, from watching the unfolding drama.

“Here we go,” said T-hacker. He went to press the button to open the helicopter cabin door.

Anderle pushed T-hacker’s hand away. “Wait.”

“For what?” asked T-hacker.

“Just let them all sweat for a moment. Let them know who’s really in control.”

Drew crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat’s backrest. He rolled his eyes. “Don’t be an asshole, Anderle.”

Anderle threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Do what you want, T-hacker.”

T-hacker glanced at Anderle, then at the remote, then back at Anderle.

“Just do it already,” ordered Anderle.

T-hacker tapped the button and the cabin door opened. The Marines yelled some commands and the Chinese soldiers came out with a blind-folded and handcuffed Angel Segarra. The Chinese had their hands up and, to Drew’s surprise, there were only two of them.

“That was easy,” said Drew. “Almost too easy.” He eyed an open door in a building connected to a hanger a short distance away. He glanced at Mya. She was innocent, wide eyed, and scared; leaning all her body weight against him. He put his hand on the door handle. All he’d need to do was fling the door open, grab Mya, and rush into that building. It had to have a lock. He’d just wait it out and he and Mya could leave on their own accord, and get to safety somewhere.

Where would he go? How would they survive? He flashed to the dead people on the side of the road on the way here; the adults and children begging for food; people waiving guns around. It was a free-for-all out there.

He did the mental calculation. On balance, he and Mya would be safer out there than with Anderle. And maybe these Marines would shoot Anderle to shit so he and Mya could go back to the base with Mya’s dad. Sounded like a plan. He tensed his muscles and pulled Mya into his lap, ready to bolt from the Rover.

“Stay,” came Drew’s mom. “There are more important days ahead, more important than your life. Stay.”

Damnit, mom. He eased up on the door, all plans of escape banished in a single moment.

Anderle opened his door. “Get out.”

Drew picked Mya up and pushed the door open. He slid out of the seat and stood on the tarmac, the morning breeze touching his skin. He set Mya on her feet. She took off on a run, too excited to see her father. Drew lunged for her, barely grabbing her by the back of the shirt and pulled her in close. “Not yet, Mya.”

“Why?”

“Your daddy’s still working. He can’t be bothered right now.”

Anderle walked over to the helicopter, then sat on the edge of the helicopter’s cabin entrance.

“What’s he doing?” asked Drew.

T-hacker shrugged. “Don’t know, but follow me. Let’s get our reward.”

“Reward?”

T-hacker bobbed his head up and down. “You’ll see.” He did well to hide a smile, though Drew saw right through his attempt. There was something fishy going on.

Drew picked up Mya and followed T-hacker just as the Marines pushed the Chinese soldiers into their Humvees. The Marines pulled Segarra’s blind fold off and fidgeted with his handcuffs, trying to break their leader free from his chains.

Anderle stepped into the cabin, then came out a minute later. “You’ll need these.” He jiggled a set of keys.

Drew, holding Mya’s hand, stopped just in front of the cabin entrance.

A Marine stepped around Segarra and walked toward Anderle just as Anderle moved deeper into the cabin. “No. You can’t have it. Sorry, my friend.”

“Excuse me, sir?” said the Marine. He stood just outside the helicopter door. He lifted his rifle, aiming it at Anderle. “Give me those, sir. I will not ask twice.”

Anderle shot Drew a look. “We have this girl strapped with bombs. If you don’t give us Segarra, then she will go up and you’ll all be nothing more than heaps of flesh on an airfield. Got it?”

Anderle was a fucking nut-job. Screw it. He whispered in Mya’s ear. “Go get your daddy. Go to him.”

Segarra spun on his heels. “What’s the problem, lieutenant?”

The lieutenant glanced around at his Master Sergeant. “They claim this girl has a bomb on her. They want you in exchange for not blowing her up.”

Mya let go of Drew’s hand. “Daddy, daddy.” She raced over to him.

Segarra’s face turned white as his daughter ran under his arms, his hands still cuffed in front of him. They embraced. “Mya?” He glanced up at Anderle. “You have her hooked up to a bomb?” He swept her into his arms. “Take the bomb off of her, now. That’s an order.”

Anderle snorted. “Thanks for the order, but no.”

“Anderle, don’t do this,” said Drew.

Anderle smirked. “Come into the helicopter, Master Sergeant Segarra. If you don’t, T-hacker will blow you and her the shit up.”

T-hacker held up the remote and nodded. “I would.” He stepped into the cabin.

Segarra held up a hand. “Marines, stand down.” He walked forward, pulling Mya closer to his chest, worry written all over his face.

“Get in, Drew,” said Anderle. “We will be making several stops to refuel. We gotta go now.”

Drew shook his head, watching Segarra and Mya come closer. The girl deserved to be safe and with her father, away from the two clowns whose end game was to find a way to run the country, to stop those ET’s when they arrived on United States soil, and perhaps to use what was left of the US military to do it. Not a bad end game, but not one she needed to be involved with.

T-hacker slapped the helicopter. “Come inside, Drew.” He jumped in and sat in the co-pilot’s seat and pressed several buttons on his remote. The helicopter revved up and the rotors began spinning.

Segarra eyed Drew and shoved a finger toward the cabin. “Get in there. If you care one iota about my daughter’s safety, then follow my lead.”

Drew pulled himself into the cabin, bending over so his head didn’t meet the ceiling. He sat in a cabin seat.

Segarra stepped inside as well, placing Mya next to him, on the seat across from Drew’s. The helicopter lifted off the ground, ascending quickly. The cabin door automatically shut.

Segarra pulled his daughter in close and they hugged, tears welling up in Segarra’s eyes. Segarra mouthed, “I love you.” He then brought his eyes back to Drew and gave him a look that said nothing less than, “I’m going to kill you.”

33

Planet Taiyo, Sector 9 ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

Jaxx raced toward his Air Wing, one that Kiyo-zan had energetically towed in with his starfighter. He had to get his starfighter into the air before the strafe run began, before the Agadon ended all life in the city.

Jaxx gave Kiyo-zan a thumbs-up as he ran by his friend’s starfighter and jumped onto his craft’s wing, then pulled himself into the Air Wing’s cockpit. He put his helmet on, then initiated the ion drives, and lifted the bird into the air. “Get everyone, including the Leonians, to target the incoming starfighters, Kiyo-zan.”

“Watashi wa sudeni watashi zo ue zi iru,” replied Kiyo-zan.

Jaxx tilted his ship toward the newly created opening in the city’s domed ceiling and accelerated, boosting his Air Wing through the breach. “You’ve already called that in? You’re always one step ahead of me.” He twisted his Air Wing and shot forward at an incredible pace. He closed his eyes and his body tingled, his consciousness expanded taking him outside of his cockpit, viewing everything as if he was the Air Wing. He was one with his craft.

He thought to bank right and he did.

An enemy starfighter came into view. It ducked low, getting a better trajectory for a strafe run on the city.

Jaxx went into a dive. He thought of letting loose an Air to Air Intermediate Missiles, AAIM-5 Dart. The missile fired, in time with his thought, and his thrusters amped a level higher, keeping him and his Air Wing on the same course, balancing the Dart’s push back against his wing.

The Agadon went into an oblique turn, but it was too late. The missile contacted the Agadon ship’s tail, splitting it into two, then igniting the ion engines on fire just behind the cockpit. A loud thunderous roar echoed across the sky and a blue flame zipped up the enemy starfighter, touching the missile batteries, turning the starfighter into a ball of flames.

Jaxx barrel rolled through the incinerated enemy and dipped right, sending tracers and lasers across another starfighter, hitting the Agadon craft’s back, lighting it up into another fiery spectacle.

His sensors beeped, telling him an enemy was attempting a weapons lock. Jaxx held his position and waited, trying to coax his opponent into thinking he wasn’t paying attention, that he was green, a rookie.

The sensors beeped one long beep – weapons locked. If Jaxx didn’t move now, didn’t stop his act, he’d be dead in three seconds.

Jaxx slowed his craft, flipped through one-hundred-and-eighty degrees and spun around, engaging the bandit. He zeroed in on the wing and sent a Dart, clipping the enemy’s wing.

The Agadon spun out of control and knocked into another enemy craft, its wing wedging into his friend’s cockpit, killing the pilot.

Jaxx riddled the two crafts with tracer fire and laser impulse beams. Both enemy starfighters sparked into a thousand pieces, plummeting into the forest below.

“I just got three. We have a lot more coming in, boys and girls!” informed Jaxx.

“Watashi wa koko zi imasu,” said Kiyo-zan.

“Thank you, Kiyo-zan. I got your back, too. Anyone else up in the sky?”

Before he heard a reply, he spotted several Leonian combat-mechs and ships entering his air space, ready to end the Agadon threat – a threat that involved killing not only his race, but just about every race that this Artificial Intelligent Agadon glitched program was telling them to annihilate. And then what? Back to Callisto, where they will put Jaxx back on the granite slab inside the pyramid, so he could close and re-open the portals correctly, shut out the Negatives, and give his life for the rest of the galaxy?

No question. It would be an honor. He knew not many people in his position would embrace their destiny with such delight. Maybe he was programmed, via his DNA, to feel this way, to want to rise to the occasion. To him, death wasn’t scary. It also wasn’t permanent.

Missiles, ion charges, and lasers flew from the Leonian combat-mechs’ turrets and cannons, whizzing past Jaxx in perfect precision and struck a squadron of Agadon fighters en-route to Jaxx’s position. The enemy starfighters erupted into a glowing mess, spattering shards of armor and debris across the firmament.

“Inbound,” warned Jaxx.

A slew of starfighters exited a large Agadon carrier rumbling across the heavens, passing through a thick cloud. The bandits headed in for actual combat, letting off charges through their ion cannons.

Jaxx evaded, then noticed one bogey breaking off formation, maneuvering in a way that defied logic – the way that Jaxx flew a starfighter.

Jaxx’s belly tightened and he veered toward the Agadon. “Everyone, cover each other’s asses. And don’t worry about me, I got this one.”

“You can’t get me, Jaxx.”

Jaxx tipped his wing, then zipped above the enemy starfighter. “Who said that? Kiyo-zan, was that you?”

“Zen-zen ie desu. Agadon desu.”

“It was an Agadon?” Jaxx went into a dive, entering into a long wing-over maneuver, pulling himself into a quarter loop. “I heard someth – ”

Laughter filled his ears. Agadon Laughter. “Don’t be unintelligent, Jaxx. You can’t believe you’re the only one in the Universe with the ability to merge with a flying machine, do you?”

The Agadon starfighter spun around, sending several missiles in Jaxx’s direction. Jaxx targeted them, sending strafe and lasers at the missiles, turning them into flaming dust.

“Gotcha!” screamed the Agadon, laughing even louder.

Jaxx executed an inverted roll and pulled back, placing himself into a fast dive, changing his trajectory one-hundred and eighty degrees, barely missing an Agadon fighter that almost rammed him – the same one speaking to him now.

Jaxx rounded on the bandit’s tail. “Who are you?”

“My name is Tazadon Zindomeon Locka –” There was a pause. “Just call me Taz.”

“Okay, well...hi, Taz.” Jaxx shot two AAIM-5 Darts, one right after the other. One to distract Taz and force him wide, the other to hit exactly where Jaxx predicted Taz would turn.

Taz spun in a way only Jaxx could do, sending laser blasts toward the Darts. They hit dead on, obliterating the missiles.

Jaxx turned into a break, moving sharply across the Agadon flight path. “Kiyo-zan, we have a problem. Some Agadon prick can fly like me and speaks in my language.”

Laughter coursed over Jaxx’s comm line. “You probably wonder how I know your language? Maybe you’ll know after you’re dead, eh?”

Jaxx pulled right just as laser fire zipped across the sky. The Agadon dipped left, sending a barrage of missiles onto a different target – the back of a Leonian Mech.

The missiles ripped the mech’s external armor causing sparks, though doing minimal damage, exposing wires and engine gyros. The Agadon let loose a bombardment of ion charges, dropping them like grenades, then broke away.

The mech’s engines exploded, sending a shock wave up the internal central wire array, making the mech inoperable. It fell out of the sky, the forest below being the combat-mech’s eventual doom.

The combat-mech pilot ejected and Jaxx rotated his starfighter another one-hundred and eighty degrees, heading in the pilot’s direction. The pilot, a Leonian with white fur, striped in blacks and oranges, sat in her seat as the seat’s boosters slowly eased her toward the ground. The wind buffeting against her magnificent coat. She surveyed the battle like a captain surveying a map.

Jaxx gasped. It was Zara and Taz was heading right for her. A flashback of Rivkah falling from the Taiyo sky came to him. He had failed her then. He wasn’t going to fail again. Rivkah was practically burned alive when he couldn’t help her last time. He didn’t want the same fate for Zara.

Jaxx aimed just above her. “Lower it faster, Zara.”

Zara complied and Jaxx shot one strafe after another, sending thousands of shots bursting above Zara, dinging Taz’s starfighter armor. Jaxx fired three Darts, aiming beneath Zara, predicting Taz’s future move, hoping he’d get it right this time.

Taz banked hard right, then went into an unload extension, slipping into a steep, straight dive and applied full thrust in an attempt to end Zara before she landed.

An attempt Jaxx had guessed correctly.

Two missiles sunk into the Agadon ion drive compartment between the cockpit and tail of the Agadon craft. The tail split apart, spiraling Taz out of control, plummeting him quickly toward the forest below. It crashed through the canopy of trees and a whapom! shook the heavens, sending fire licking up toward the battle smoke filling the sky.

“Thank you, Jaxx,” came Zara. “Maybe you’re worth your weight in stress after all?”

“No problem, Zara.” Jaxx swung his craft low. “I’m heading in for a landing.” Jaxx observed the fight around him. “We’re doing good up here and holding these bastards off well, so I’m going to capture this Agadon asshole and see how he does what I do.”

“That’s a negative. I advise against that, Jaxx.”

“I’ll be fine.” Jaxx eyed a meadow below, finding the perfect place to land – only about a mile from the downed Agadon starfigher.

“What are you going to do when you capture him, Jaxx?”

“I’m going to ask the man a million questions.”

“Not a good idea. I sense his power. He is stronger than you.”

“There isn’t anyone stronger than me,” Jaxx replied.

“That statement says it all. Your ego gets in your way. Pull back and re-engage the fight.”

Jaxx’s consciousness lessened and he was back in his tight, inflexible body. He had almost forgotten what is it was like to be free and outside of his body. He let out a breath. “I know what I’m doing, Zara.” He pressed a few holographic buttons, readying his craft for a landing. “I’ll be back up before you know it.”

“Goddess-speed, Jaxx. I’ll send someone to watch you, to keep you safe. Out.”

34

Edge of J-Quadrant, Starship Atlantis (Slipping Further Away from Jupiter)

Slade went through the mutineer’s checkpoints untouched. It was strange and unintelligent of them, but they did manage to take his sidearm. Apparently, Ken had been waiting for him. He wanted to talk. Slade shook his head, frowning at Ken’s ridiculous mistake. You don’t let your enemy come to your front door, especially one who wants to kill you.

Slade strode forward, watching Ken on his holovid as he quickly made it down the empty hallway. No doubt cameras were on him, watching every move.

Slade couldn’t care less.

And there was Ken on the holoimage, talking to his lovely wife again. Too bad she didn’t know Ken would be a dead man sooner than later.

“Dear, you need to leave the room.” Senator Ken Furr sat at his desk and tapped a button. A secret compartment in his desk drawer opened. He pulled out some documents and a pistol, then set them on his desk.

His wife touched her chest, splaying her fingers just below her neck, shocked that her husband had just pulled out a gun. “What are you doing?”

“Slade is on his way.”

She frowned. “You let him through? No, that’s not a good idea, Ken.”

“He was checked. No weapons on him. I need to talk with him.”

“I’m staying,” she demanded.

He stood, his face stern. “You will do no such thing.” He pointed to the door.

She opened the door, hurt in her eyes.

Slade, reaching the door, stopped and watched it open. He feigned a smile and tipped his head. “Donna...it’s a pleasure to see you.” He turned off his holodisplay.

She merely nodded and hurried out of the room.

The door shut behind Slade. He crossed his arms at his chest. “This is why you called me here? To threaten me with your little gun there?”

“No, I’m not threatening you. I’m protecting myself, just like I’m attempting to protect the rest of this starship and crew from you turning us over to the Kelhoon. I intercepted yours and Kajka Okbak’s communication streams.”

Slade knew very well what Ken intercepted. “We’re setting Okbak up. The Kelhoon leader wants to take over Callisto. We’re not going to allow it. And, you and your mutiny are clogging shit up. Do you understand this?”

“I am steering us back to Earth. You convinced us to leave because of the coming Earth changes when we cross over from global warming to a descent into the ice age. If that’s the case, I’m wondering why you didn’t take Jaxx’s recommendations? When we go back to Earth, and I’m saying when, because we will, we’ll be implementing his recommendations.”

“Really? What are those recommendations, Ken?” Slade took a seat on a couch and crossed his legs. He draped his arms on top of the quilted backrest. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth and winked. “What ya’ gettin’ at, Ken-dog?”

“You didn’t even read his books, did you?”

Slade wiped his pants, as if wiping the question away. “Not a single page.”

“We didn’t even need to leave the United States of America.”

Slade shrugged, jutting out his lower lip. “Please explain.”

Ken cocked his pistol and stood, pointing his gun at Slade.

Slade jerked a little, but kept his composure well. He crossed his hands in his lap, figuring Ken didn’t have it in him to shoot an unarmed man.

Ken picked up a mess of pages with his other hand. “This explains it all and was written by Kaden Jaxx. The pyramids on earth have more power than you can imagine, just like what we’re seeing on Callisto.”

“And you’re going to tell me that we could have built pyramids and or activated the old pyramids to slow down global warming and ease our descent into another ice age.” Slade shrugged a second time. “I have better things to do. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Slade stood and turned to leave.

“No. Sit.”

The words Slade wanted to hear. Whatever he could get out of Ken, the better. “What else you got for me, Ken-dog?” Slade leaned back and put his hands up, smiling. “But let me vent for a second, okay?” He stood straighter, chest out. “You’ve sabotaged our mission to Callisto. Our mission to save a tiny fraction of the human race; a race that will die when the Earth changes come, do you understand? Sustained three hundred mile per hour winds, gusting up to four hundred miles per hour. Tsunamis on just about every coast. Earthquakes devastating every city, taking all electricity and internet offline, and destroying the infrastructure. In a week’s time, all stores will be out of food, people will be starving, dying. Mayhem will then break out. Every soul for themselves.”

“That’s –”

“You took us away from Callisto,” Slade interrupted. “Do you understand how much that pisses me off? It’s not going to go well for you. Now, I’ll give you and the rest of the government twenty-four hours to think it over and change your mind. If you don’t, more blood will be shed, and it won’t be mine.”

“Yes, we turned the entire ship around, Slade. We’re going to ride out the coming storm, the climate change. There are safe places for us to live. After the hurricanes and earthquakes have their way, we’ll re-install the government.”

“We’re working on getting the routing system unlocked. Your trip back to earth won’t be for long.”

Ken took a step around his desk, still pointing the gun at Slade. “I’m old and maybe I’m being a little too much of a humanitarian, so here is what I’m going to propose. We head back and I won’t throw this whole business in your face ever again. It’ll be like it never happened. I’ll put you in command of building these pyramids or powering them on.” Slade could tell Ken was lying. The guy couldn’t keep his damn eyelids from blinking and more importantly, the guys pupils were dilating. It was a perfect tell, but he let Ken continue anyway. “Jaxx wrote about the conductive power of dolomite and I’m convinced building these pyramids the Jaxx-way is the answer. Dolomite is a limestone with a high magnesium content. It’s a type of limestone that conducts electricity – freely. That’s what the Pyramids of Giza and many other pyramids are made out of.”

Slade gave him a blank stare.

Ken hit the papers in his hand with the pistol. “We can make these.”

“You’re an idiot if you think we can replicate what the ancient ones did. You’re a dipshit. And if you make it back to Earth, then I hope you try and try to make one of those pyramids and each attempt crumbles and smashes one of you nit-wit politicians under its rocks.”

“We can make pyramids exactly how Jaxx wanted us to. These pyramids act as a magma release valve, taking the pressure off of the major earthquakes that are coming. We don’t have to go through the shitty Earth changes that you left Earth for...that we all left Earth for. All you have to do is create more of these pyramids in specific locations throughout the world and ease Earth into the next ice age instead of a major, sudden shift into the next ice age. We can do this, Slade.”

Slade slowly clapped his hands. “Bravo. You have solved our problems.” His sarcasm was more than apparent.

“No, it’s more than that. Listen...please.” He cleared his throat and read a few sentences on the pages. “The dolomite limestone core is electrically conductive. The core is wrapped by an effective insulator – dura limestone. When you look at the pyramid’s passageways, you find that they are made out of granite, and granite is slightly radioactive and will ionize and electrify the air, along with releasing radon gases. The shafts are lined with granite to keep the electric charge moving back and forth in the shaft. It’s built like an insulated wire, which also draws the electric charge from the ground.”

Ken looked up and Slade shook his head. “Hold on.” He reached down and grabbed one of his boots. “I’ve got this damn itch that’s driving me nuts.” He untied his shoe laces and pulled his boot off. On the underside, embedded in the sole of his shoe, was a small pistol.

Ken looked away. “I know what you’re thinking,” said Ken.

Slade slipped his gun out of the sole of his shoe, pointing it at Ken. “You have no idea what I’m thinking. If you did, then you wouldn’t have taken your eyes off of me. I could have blasted you ten times by now. That’s the difference between my intelligence and your intelligence. You want to go back to Earth and fix things. I know they aren’t fixable. They simply are not. I’m practical – a realist. You’re an optimist.” He grinned. “Give me the documents. We have no time for your silly ideas. We have no time for your mutiny.”

Ken backed away, thrusting his gun forward. “And, why would I do any of that?”

“So no one gets their paws on these and starts thinking optimistically.”

“Dag nabbit, Slade! We can power Earth with these things. We no longer need fossil fuels. No longer need natural gas. We no longer need wars over land resources.” Ken started shaking, bringing his eyes back to Jaxx’s writings. “Many pyramids have water beneath or near them. The gravity pull from a pyramid yanks water from underneath it and/or near it. In essence, it draws water closer to the surface and closer to the pyramid’s base, creating a primitive aquifer, doing two things. One, it pulls up minerals and two, it moves water through lime or chalk aquifers, producing electricity and changing the magnetic field inside and around the pyramid. It’s a giant battery.”

Slade aimed at Ken’s head. “I get it, Ken. Pyramids are power sources as well as goddamn terraforming devices. Now, drop your pistol and I’ll let you live. If you don’t, you’ll be on the ground in three seconds, dead.”

Ken put the pistol on his desk. “I want to save us all, Slade.”

“Your ideas are in the right direction, just not in the direction to keep us 100% safe. Callisto is our best bet. It is tidally locked to Jupiter, just like our own moon is tidally locked to Earth – the same side always faces the planets, and because of that, there is virtually zero earth change activity. And most likely never will be. We’d never need to worry about global warming, natural disasters, and the like again.”

Slade reached in, swiping the papers out of Ken’s hands. “Thank you for your cooperation.” He pushed the small gun back in his boot’s sole and put his boot back on. “Now, if you don’t turn this ship back to Callisto’s trajectory and convince the rest of the government to abide by my rules, then there’ll be dire consequences, starting with your wife. Do you understand? Or, I could just kill you now and get it over with.”

Ken paused, thinking. Finally, he nodded. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Good man.” Slade left the room. Andrea’s office was his next stop.

35

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Alliance, Nebraska

The helicopter vibrated. The cabin’s back and forth movement nearly drove Drew bat-shit crazy.

Segarra eyed Drew as if Drew was a pedophile, the worst filth in the universe.

Drew hadn’t kidnapped his daughter, used her as bait to get Segarra to do his bidding, or Anderle’s bidding. He needed this man to see the truth.

Mya wrapped her arms around her father’s forearm. She said something in her dad’s ear and he shook his head – the third time in as many minutes.

Drew tapped his helmet, then gestured for Segarra to put the helmet in his lap on.

Segarra again shook his head.

Drew jiggled the helmet mic near his lips, mouthing, “Let’s talk.”

Segarra dropped his shoulders and clenched his jaw. He placed the helmet over his head and pushed it down, bringing the mic closer to his lips. He crossed his arms, almost dragging Mya over his lap. He paused and ruffled her hair, forcing a smile. One glance back at Drew and the smile disappeared. “What do you want?”

“I kept her safe. Her mom –”

Segarra lifted his chin. “Where is my wife?”

Drew hesitated. He didn’t want to tell Segarra the truth. He’d tell him anything at this moment, especially not about his wife, who was a bloody mess, dead and decaying in a Charlotte, North Carolina car dealership, along with Segarra’s son. Drew didn’t want this incredibly buff man’s hands around his neck, choking him out in front of Mya.

Maybe if Drew had some weed on him or a bowl, they could smoke out for a while, and make some peace with their deaths, maybe eat some grub and call it a night.

That wasn’t going to happen. Drew pressed the mic closer to his mouth. “She is in North Carolina.”

Segarra pursed his lips. “Take me there.”

Drew thumbed over his shoulder. “I’m not the pilot or the one in charge.”

“Tell them to turn this thing around and take me to the rest of my family.”

Mya raised her chin toward her father’s ear, saying something.

He shook his head.

She flopped on his lap, dejected.

“What does she keep saying?” asked Drew.

“Nothing to worry your mind about. Now, tell me why you can’t take me to North Carolina.”

“I don’t know.”

Segarra leaned forward, twisting Drew’s shirt in his hands, pulling Drew closer. “You better –”

“Take your damn hands off him, or you’re not going anywhere, partner.” T-hacker held a gun, aiming it directly at Segarra’s face.

Segarra eased up his grip and backed off, coddling Mya, turning her away from the gun. “Where are you taking us?”

Anderle chimed in. “We’re taking you to Whitefish, Montana but we’ll be making several pit-stops to fill up. So, make yourself comfortable. If you have to use the bathroom, well…don’t.”

Segarra stood, baring his teeth, knocking his head against the ceiling. “Dammit.” He sat down hard and massaged his neck. “Why are we going to Whitefish? That’s the last place I want to go.”

“Why?” Drew inquired. That was a strange reaction to a rather peaceful place – at least peaceful when he’d visited it a few years back.

Anderle turned. “Don’t answer that.”

For a moment, there was silence. Segarra scratched his chin, eyeing Drew. “You’re not part of this...thing...whatever this thing is, are you?”

Drew frowned. “What thing?”

“You’re like me. Did they capture you as well, use you as bait for something you’re not privy to? Mya keeps telling me you’re nice. I keep telling her that you’re not. Maybe she’s right.”

The helicopter violently dipped and a rumble rattled inside the cabin and cockpit.

“Shit!” screamed Anderle. “Bogeys, bogeys. Or, whatever the hell you call them. Uh...jet fighters.”

Segarra looked around Drew, doing his best to see through the cockpit window. “Are they American?”

“I believe so,” said T-hacker, doing some computations on the helicopter’s console. He nodded. “Yes, they are.”

“And you’re in a Chinese goddamn helicopter? Now doesn’t this just fit like a nice rotten cherry in an apple pie,” responded Segarra.

The helicopter shook again as another jet fighter roared by.

“Yo, co-pilot,” said Segarra. “Put us on their channel. I’ll talk to them and let them know we’re friendlies.”

T-hacker ignored him, computing more info into the remote control.

“They’ll shoot us down if you don’t let them know who we are!”

“I’m in control, Master Sergeant,” said Anderle, putting the craft in a steady descent. “We’re landing at Alliance Municipal Airport. Now settle down. We’ll get back up in the air when those two fly boys run out of gas, ’cause there isn’t any room for them to land and refuel at Alliance.”

“What the fu –” Segarra looked everyone up and down. “Are you boys criminals or something?”

“Nope,” replied Anderle. “Us boys are not and we need your help. That’s why we’re going to Whitefish, and with you, if you like it or not.”

“Put me on their channel and I’ll tell them –” Segarra flinched as another rumble filled the cockpit. “Son of a bitch. You have to let me tell them we are friendlies. They’ll leave us alone.”

“That one was Chinese,” said T-hacker.

“We’re being targeted,” warned Anderle, pointing the nose of the helicopter down, speeding the bird at a faster pace. “By the Chinese.”

“Get down to the ground,” yelled Segarra, gripping his seat, his knuckles white, his forehead covered in perspiration.

Mya squeezed his arm, closing her eyes tightly.

“I’m not making this up. We don’t have much time,” screamed Segarra.

“Weapons lock is on.” Anderle was panicking. “The Chinese aircraft just let one loose.”

“Fly to the floor, pilot. Go, go! They are likely shooting an air to air missile, not an air to ground, meaning the closer to the ground you get the more chance the guidance will stop tracking you and track something else. An air to air doesn’t have top attack capabilities,” shouted Segarra.

Anderle tilted the helicopter even more. “Oh no, we’re going to crash.”

Drew held on to the straps around his shoulders as hard as he could, his fingers chaffing against the seat belt’s polyester webbing. He held his breath, his eyes wide.

“Pull back, pilot, and land,” instructed Segarra.

Drew couldn’t help it. He needed to know, needed to see what was about to happen, whether it be their doom or a miracle. He gulped when he turned and peered out of the cockpit window. The municipal airport’s tarmac was coming up fast, as if the ground was moving toward them as fast as the helicopter toward it.

Anderle screamed, waving his arms in the air.

“Not funny, Anderle. Stop,” said T-hacker.

Anderle cracked up, pulling back on his control stick, grabbing his belly in the process. “God, I feel like a dick. It’s not April Fools’ Day, but I got you three in the cabin so good. Damn, I wish it was April Fools’ Day so bad.”

Segarra’s nostrils flared and the muscles in his arms flexed, making the veins pop. He licked his lips, looking away from Drew. “Are you telling me, pilot, that you were fucking with me the whole time?”

Anderle brought the helicopter into a slow hover, lowering onto its skids. “Yeah,” he chuckled. “The planes were real, but the weapons were all dummies. They’re all on our side. I asked them to put on a show, just for shits and giggles. Cool right?”

“Don’t you ever –” Segarra leaned back against his seat, refraining from saying anything else.

“And, Mr. Segarra, if you try to do anything to us while we refuel...well...don’t. We have things setup to really hurt your daughter. You remember, the bomb? We’re hackers. We embedded it in her underwear, shirt, and pants,” said Anderle as he opened the cockpit door and stepped out of the chopper.

Drew thought it was the dumbest lie.

Segarra appeared to take it for truth. Perhaps he had to. He was her dad. That’s what dads did.

Segarra’s hand shook as he combed Mya’s hair with his fingers. He looked into Drew’s eyes. “Whitefish is the new beacon of hope.”

Drew tilted his head. “Then tell me why we can’t go there.”

Segarra scooted up in his seat. “Because of me. You take me, and you bring a shit show to a good place, a place that is keeping the revolution alive. It started out as the US resistance against the Chinese, but since these space ships have been dropping through the atmosphere and obliterating cities, it has become the central hub for planetary resistance. You take me to Whitefish, and all enemies change their target to all those good people in that city, because that’s where I’ll be.”

“Why would that happen if you show up?”

“Because I have something they want. Something I was trying to hide from them. Now they probably know I’m with her. And where I go from now on, they will also know that she will also be there.”

“Who is her? I don’t comprehend.”

He glanced down at Mya and then back at Drew. “You’ve seen my daughter’s powers, I bet. But Anderle isn’t telling you the entire story about my daughter.”

36

Planet Taiyo, Sector 9 ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

Jaxx took another cautious step, eyeing the forest, sensing the Agadon was near, safe, and angry as hell. He had gotten the upper hand and sensed no one got the upper hand with this guy, this blue freak of nature.

A crackle pierced the forest.

Jaxx stopped and listened. He needed to know why and how this Agadon was like him. Was the Agadon part Atlantean? Did he have some human in him? Was there an even bigger glitch in the AI-based system in his hardwired brain?

He dipped his head to avoid a low-hanging branch. He was nearing the fire, the crash site.

He unholstered his phaser, holding it at his side, ready for the blue human-looking piece of shit.

“Welcome, Kaden Jaxx.”

Jaxx halted, eyes darting left and right. His phaser spun out of his hands and crashed against a tree.

Laughter filled the forest. Laughter that wasn’t human.

“Where are you?” asked Jaxx.

“Over here.”

Jaxx turned, seeing a figure in a dark blue robe, hood draped over his face.

“I’ve been waiting a long time, Jaxx. You are in the prophecies. You are loved by many. Hated by more. Yes, you have some allies, but a plethora of enemies. And I’m one of them.”

“Who are you?” questioned Jaxx.

“I’m someone not in the prophecies, someone more powerful than you in every facet of life, in every way of being, someone who deserves a place in our galaxy’s Akashic records, records of everything that happens in our galactic life.”

“I know what the Akashic records are. You don’t need to patronize me.” Jaxx shifted from one foot to the other, watching and waiting for the robed man to make a move.

The Agadon waived a hand and the ground in front of Jaxx exploded, lobbing clumps of dirt at him. Ineffectual, but startling.

Jaxx covered his face with his arm, to shield his eyes, then brought it down and wiped off the dirt. “What do you want?”

“I wanted you to follow me and you did. Why did you follow me, Jaxx?” The robed man shoved off the tree and floated forward, gently landing on his feet just a few feet from his avowed enemy, Kaden Jaxx.

“I –”

The man put his hand up, interrupting Jaxx. “I know why. You wanted to know how I can do what you can do. Now you want to know how I can do even more than you. Isn’t that a little naive, though, Jaxx? You thought you were the only one in the galaxy who has these powers?”

“I’m not – ” Jaxx stopped himself. If this guy assumed that Jaxx thought he was the only person in the galaxy with these powers, then all the better.

“You’re not the only one?” The man took another step forward, shaking his head. “Your thoughts reveal too much.” He looked up. “Rrriivkahh. Is that how you say her name?” He lunged forward, pushing out with his hands, throwing an energetic force against Jaxx, hitting him square on the chest, picking him up, and tossing him against a tree.

“Ooomph!” grunted Jaxx, sliding down the trunk and onto his backside. He pushed himself up, bringing up all the energy he could muster and any emotion he could dig up – the anger, the pain of being abused by Slade and being shot by Fox while inside Underfoot Black. He pushed his palms outward, moving energy like it was a toy and chucked it at Taz.

Taz sliced the air with his hand, dissolving and dissipating the energy to a mere breeze. He laughed. “I’m not as easy to push around, am I, Jaxx?”

The Agadon jumped and spun in the air, performing a flying back kick, focusing his energy through his legs and out his feet.

Jaxx went into a defensive crouch. The energetic kick landed against his side, toppling him over. He rolled on the ground, holding his abdomen, cringing in pain. He tried to get up, then a sharp, unforgiving knife lunged into his lower back. He yelped like a dog as a burning sensation riddled his body. He arched and fell on his stomach, reaching for the knife, a knife he needed to pull out of his lower spine. It wasn’t there.

The knife had been ethereal, energetic, causing no blood, only pain. He took a deep breath and spun around to his feet, his arms up, hands in a fist. He’d fight until his last, dying war cry.

Taz leaned back against a tree. “It’s just energy, Jaxx. See?” The Agadon showed his palms, then twirling his hands like he was a magician. “It sure felt like a dagger, huh?”

Jaxx touched his lower back, nodding, sweat dripping off his chin.

Taz clapped his hands loudly and Jaxx lifted off his feet again, slamming onto his back. He slid ten feet across the forest floor, closer to the Agadon.

Taz sighed. “I thought you’d be more of a challenge.” He walked slowly toward Jaxx. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. You bested me in our starfighter battle, but how well did you do on the ground? Not so good, Jaxx. Not. So. Good.”

Jaxx quickly crawled backward, closing his eyes, conjuring up energy, heating his hands until he couldn’t take it anymore. He yelled, lashing out, throwing the energy through his palms and at Taz.

The Agadon flinched for a moment, then snorted. “That was a good one. It almost felt like a really hard, but noble baby’s slap.” He jumped, doing a back flip, landing on his hands and feet. The ground instantly stirred and Jaxx was thrown straight up into the air. He twirled head over heels, belly flopping onto the soil, knocking the wind out of him. He rolled to his side, sucking in as much air as he could, his spasming diaphragm making it difficult.

The Agadon withdrew a long sword from underneath his robe. “I like the old fashion way of killing, as well, Jaxx. Don’t you? There’s such a satisfying crunch, when steel meets bone through flesh and gristle.”

Jaxx pressed his hand against the soil and pushed onto his knees, coughing. “Don’t...”

“Don’t what?”

A branch cracked and the Agadon went rigid, his arms stiff at his sides. “He doesn’t want you to hurt him anymore.” It was Abdu, his paws aimed directly at the Agadon.

“Unwrap me, you filthy Leonian,” yelled Taz.

Abdu leaned over and helped Jaxx up, still keeping one paw on the blue-man. “As you wish, my robed friend.” Abdu dropped his arm and Taz went limp, falling to the ground.

Taz threw off his hood, revealing a bald, blue man snarling, with blood-shot eyes. He windmilled his arms, thrusting energy at Abdu.

Abdu stood his ground, not moving an inch. He put his hands together and bowed. “If you leave now, I will let you live. If you don’t leave now, then I will defend myself and my friend. You will not live through that exchange.”

The Agadon backed up, moving slowly toward a throng of bunched trees. He slithered through them, disappearing into the shadows.

Abdu grabbed Jaxx’s arm and pulled him to his feet. “We better get going before he brings some of his friends.”

They rushed through the forest and entered the meadow, the grasses stirring in the wind.

Jaxx looked at his hands. “Why didn’t my powers work on him?”

“You and that Agadon have one thing in common. You think the energy that courses through you and out of you is power, and only power. You think the power is to defend yourself and do harm to those you’re defending yourself against. You and your mortal enemy have no idea what Chi truly is.”

Jaxx reached his Air Wing and patted its belly. “But, still, the power has always worked to defend myself before.”

“Yes, against those that don’t know what it is or how to properly use it. Chi is the equilibrium in nature, in the body, and in every living thing in the Universe. Without it, you would not live. You think of it as power, as if it was solely created for that purpose and that purpose alone. Don’t be mistaken, Jaxx. Chi is what’s in between. The middle way, the calm between the joy and the storm. The center between up and down, the medium between left and right. It’s the fulcrum for all of life.”

“What do I do with that advice?”

“You do nothing.” The lion smiled. “Or, you do everything. The only way to allow negative Chi to affect you is by allowing negative Chi to affect you. It needn’t. It mustn’t. I didn’t allow the Agadon to feed off of me and throw me across the forest. Why? Because I use the middle path, the way Chi is meant to be harnessed and used.” He tapped Jaxx’s third eye with his claw. “Use the calm in the middle of the storm. It’s always there. It’s the basis of all Chi.” He put his paw on Jaxx’s chest. “You just have to find it.”

“Yeah, finding it is the mystery. I don’t even know where it comes from.” He stepped up on his craft’s wing and pulled himself up into the cockpit.

“Remember, Jaxx. You don’t have to think of negativity to use your Chi to defend yourself. In fact, if you use the images and memories of love, you’ll pack a little more punch. Light negates darkness. It’s not the other way around and never has been.”

Jaxx nodded his head. “Can you teach me how to do this?”

An explosion filled the air and the lion glanced up. “If we can survive this, then yes.” He glanced over his shoulder, giving out a thunderous roar.

The forest shook and a combat-mech walked from the tree line and onto the meadow.

“Until then, we have a fight to win.” The lion turned and ran toward his mech.

Jaxx shut his cockpit window. “Time to kick some ass.” He lifted into the air and rocketed toward the battle.

37

Edge of J-Quadrant, Starship Atlantis (Slipping Further Away from Jupiter)

Slade stood on one leg, the other leg up in a kick, a hundred-pound bag in one hand and a seventy-five-pound bag in the other hand. He was motionless, eyes closed, concentrating on perfect equilibrium.

“Good,” cheered Andrea. She had her holographic data pad in hand, studying the graphs, lines, and numbers, and assessing Slade’s mental, physical, and emotional state.

Slade was hooked up to electrodes, sending information to half a dozen computers around the room.

Andrea typed on her pad. “I’m finding it’s a balancing act, Slade. You can control these powers. It’s all about your emotions and intent. It doesn’t matter if it’s anger or love, as long as your emotions are extreme and focused. What are you feeling now?”

Slade’s arms shook and sweat beaded down his neck. “The weight of each bag is different. It’s difficult to hold still. I have to focus on both sides of my body at the same time. Put more weight in the seventy-five-pound bag, Andrea.”

She took a few paces forward, observing Slade, looking him up and down. “Your legs are fine. Your stomach isn’t shaking. It’s just your arms. Change focus.”

Slade kept his head straight and opened his eyes. “Change my focus to what?”

“To your arms.”

Slade bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, remembering all the times Rivkah evaded him and his team, screwing up Slade’s plans to use her as an expert pilot, as an ally. He grunted, imagining Rivkah being ripped to shreds by a squad of beady-eyed, slobber-toothed Eridans in the Forrax constellation. His arms strengthened, balancing out, and for the first time, the bags felt like feathers.

This power, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and his muscles firing twice the speed of a power lifter and without fatigue, pushed a smile to his lips.

Andrea walked over to a computer and pressed several buttons. She stepped back to take a better look at the monitor that hung on the wall just above the holographic keyboard. She put her finger to her lips and grinned. “You’re controlling the energy much better. Your heart rate is normal. Your blood pressure just slightly above where it needs to be.” She let out a happy chuckle. “You’re doing just fine.”

Slade dipped his head. This just fine was exactly what he’d hoped for, exactly why he slipped Jaxx’s blood into his own arteries. He was powerful, perhaps stronger than just about any Being in the universe.

He laughed and pictured himself taking Jaxx and Rivkah by the neck, squeezing until their eyes popped out.

His heart beat faster, his blood pressure rose, and his hands started to shake.

“What are you doing?” asked Andrea. “Stop!”

The bags ripped in half, the heavy rocks cracking against the floor. Slade slipped forward, as if a mighty force had just escaped from him and pushed him down. He landed on his stomach and let out a grunt upon impact.

“How I’d love to do that to them,” said Slade, shoving his palms on the floor and doing a back flip, landing on his feet. He grinned. “Whoa. Did you see that?”

Andrea nodded. “You lost control, Slade. That’s not what we’re attempting to do. Stay focused. You know better than that.”

“Fuck what we’re attempting. I’m figuring this shit out faster than even you imagined. Hell, this energy probably works better through me than Jaxx. There is nothing wrong with that.”

Andrea lowered her head, keeping her eyes on Slade. “Now, listen. If you don’t control this, you put me and everyone else on this ship in jeopardy.”

Slade slapped his hands together, narrowing his eyes. He couldn’t care less who he put in jeopardy, as long as it wasn’t himself or the mission to Callisto, or his plan with Kajka Okbak to kill all the politicians on the ship. “Got it, doc.”

She crossed her arms at her chest and leaned back in her stance. “Do you?”

A buzz sounded at the door and it slid open.

An elderly man in his mid-seventies stood steely-faced in the doorway. He nodded. “Colonel Slade Roberson.”

“Senator Ken Furr, how did you get access to this room and the code to the door? How did you get past my troops?” Ken must have forgotten about Slade’s threat – that he’d be slaughtered in front of his doting wife if he tried any more pranks.

“Colonel, you’re under arrest for violating the Starship Atlantis by-laws and deceiving the interim government.” Ken gestured behind him and stepped aside. Two military police walked past him, one with a rifle, the other with hand-cuffs. Those were his troops no more than a half an hour ago. They had turned on him.

Slade backed up. There was no point denying what everyone knew, but he sure as shit wasn’t going down for doing what needed to be done to secure his own future.

“We have more than enough evidence to convince ten juries of your wrong-doings. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Slade.”

Slade grabbed Andrea’s arm, pulling her in front of his body. He unholstered his gun and pushed it against her temple. Andrea tensed under his grip. “Let me out of this room or her brains are all over your faces.”

The MP’s glanced at the senator.

Ken’s face slackened and he motioned for them to move out of the way.

“Smart move,” said Slade, wrapping his arm around Andrea’s upper chest and guiding her through the doorway, her body as his shield.

He turned her around when they entered the hallway, his eyes widening in shock. Several military men and women, in full regalia, weapons drawn, lined the walls. “Hey, boys.” Did Ken have the ship’s entire Space Marines on his side now?

Slade gave them a deadly stare, one by one, as he walked by them. “Didn’t think you’d have the guts to turn on me. I was wrong.”

“Weapons down,” yelled Ken, slowly walking behind Slade, doing his best to keep his distance, yet close enough to keep Slade in his sights.

Slade looked over his shoulder. “Where is the president?”

“Safe and away from you. We know what you did to his wife. You need to give up his daughter.”

“Good luck with that, Senator.”

“Please, Slade. She is just a child, a baby.”

“You stupid man.” He rushed down the hall, tightening his hold on Andrea. “You think I’m giving up my biggest bargaining chip? I don’t think so. I’m going to notify the Fleet Admiral what you’ve done. He won’t be happy with your actions.”

Ken gave a quiet chuckle. “We got communications back online and I already let him know what you did. He’s seen the tape of Craig’s wife’s murder. Turns out, Lon wasn’t too enthused about it.”

Slade came up to an elevator and pressed the button. He spun around, his back to the elevator doors.

“Why aren’t you using your powers?” whispered Andrea, fear in her eyes. “Knock them out, or something.”

“I don’t want them to know...yet.”

The elevator door opened and Ken stopped five feet from Slade. “You won’t be able to run very far. There is a camera around every corner, thanks to you.”

Slade backed into the elevator, pressing Deck 5, one of the lowest decks on the ship. Some of his loyal troops were there – if they hadn’t been turned yet. The doors began to shut. He pushed Andrea out of the elevator, knocking her to the floor. He thrust his gun at Ken, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

Ken’s head jerked back and he fell on his back, lifeless, a bloody hole between his eyes.

The doors shut and the elevator started to descend.

“Round two of the mutiny. Slade one, mutineers one.”

38

Planet Taiyo, Sector 9 ~ Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

Jaxx brought his craft back into the sky, his body not yet one with the craft, and pulled into a hard left, corkscrewing past several Agadon fighters.

Kiyo-zan’s energy signature or vibe, something Jaxx couldn’t quite put a finger on, came to him and surrounded his heart like a storm rising. Had Kiyo-zan died? Was he trying to communicate to Jaxx from beyond the grave?

A weapons lock sounded on his display accompanied by a long beep. A missile was on its way and coming in fast. He spun his craft about, targeted the missile, and shot tracer and laser rounds. The missile lit up, sending a bright light of fire, then broke into a thousand pieces and fell like rain toward the ground, smoke trailing the debris.

Jaxx flew through the smoke, looking around for any sign of Kiyo-zan. The guy had the most distinct starfighter, black and white with shark-teeth under the nose of his craft. There were too many fighters though, too many explosions filling the sky, too many Agadon wanting to end his life.

“Kiyo-zan, where are you?” He didn’t know why he needed to speak with him, but something was pulling him, something was wrong. “Is he even alive?” Dread washed over him. Kiyo-zan, was his buddy, the only right-hand-man he had, or thought he had.

A combat-mech flew in front of Jaxx and fired a slew of missiles, then sped off, landing those missiles on another Agadon star carrier coming through the clouds. The missiles sidewineded and smacked into the large ship’s starboard, barely cracking the ship’s fresh energy shields.

A beam erupted from the carrier, fast and blinding, passing through Taiyonian starfighters like knife into butter and connecting with the combat-mech, ripping its torso in half, sending sparks and chunks of armor flying. The mech’s shoulder cannons caught fire and flared, blowing the head and neck completely apart, leaving a shroud of exhaust around the mech before it began falling to the earth.

Jaxx pinched his lips together and narrowed his eyes, bringing the Chi force stronger within his body, and began to meld his consciousness into his Air Wing. The carrier, somehow, had to pay and pay dearly.

“Jaxx-zan, watashi wa jimen zi iru.”

Jaxx came back into his cockpit, his consciousness separating from his craft. “Kiyo-zan, you’re on the ground? Well, get back up here.” He looped away from the carrier, avoiding several photon bolts.

“Nishi zo miru,” said Kiyo-zan.

Jaxx turned his fighter around to face the west and flew above the battle, doing as Kiyo-zan had just ordered. “Holy mother of all that’s wrong.”

A giant ship, bigger than any X-class nebula craft in the Secret Space Program’s fleet, pierced the atmosphere, casting a dark shadow in the west.

Jaxx’s legs became restless and his chest tightened. “We have to send all forces to intercept and down that thing.”

“Jaxx,” came Abdu. “That thing will obliterate the majority of the cities on this planet with one shot. They aren’t coming to take us as slaves or mine this planet’s precious and beautiful resources. They are coming to end us once and for all. It’s the Agadon way. The Agadon are all about spreading destruction and despair. They will use our obliteration to send a message to the stars: we will not be stopped or stayed. We are the Agadon. Fear us.”

“That’s why we need to –”

“Get on the ground. We need you at coordinates 29.9792 degrees north, 31.1342 degrees east,” interrupted Zara. “We have to get you out of here. You’re our hope, Jaxx.”

Jaxx shook his head, “No. We can defeat these guys.”

“You have no idea who these guys are. They are much stronger than you imagine. Get to the coordinates or more planets like Leonia and Taiyo will be exploited, their inhabitants used as slaves, and their worlds utilized for asset building. The Agadon are just one of the Negatives flowing through the open portals. Battles like this are raging across all known worlds. If you do not return to the portal and meet your destiny, more worlds than you can count will be like this planet, completely destroyed,” replied Zara.

Jaxx clinched his teeth, squeezing the control stick with all his might. “This planet isn’t destroyed yet.”

“You are not listening!” roared Zara. “Get down here, now! If you don’t, then the rest of the galaxy is at risk. This planet is done. Let those who perish today, and all the animals on this planet, die with glory and dignity. You must understand that there is always a higher plan, always a higher reason and it’s not for you to judge. Your job is to serve and protect this galaxy. That’s your deal.”

“My deal?” Jaxx hesitated, then punched in his coordinates. A knot in his stomach and throat formed. He didn’t like this one bit. He didn’t know if it was because he felt like he was the cause of this entire fiasco – of losing planet Leonia and Taiyo – or if he understood that deep down he had to abandon this battle, this raging war, and get to ground level and take on these Agadon forces someplace else.

He lowered his craft, then shot straight toward the ground, like a falcon to its prey. “What am I to do when I get on the ground?”

“We teleport you through the pyramid network back to Callisto. We have nine of your earth days left to close up the entire network or chaos reigns across the galaxy again. Imagine the wars on your planet times ten, yet spread throughout the galaxy, interrupting the evolution of every species and race that inhabits the Milky Way. It will be a huge step back in galactic consciousness.”

Jaxx pulled his ship out of the dive and skimmed the top of the jungle, heading toward the coordinates. He tapped on some holographic buttons, telling his ship to prepare for a landing. The skids extended downward and clicked in place.

Up ahead was a massive hill, covered in trees, brush, and grasses. Kiyo-zan’s starfighter, along with several cargo ships, transports, and two combat-mechs sat at the base of the hill.

He slowed and hovered, preparing for a landing. “I’m here. Where is everyone?” He lowered his ship. It jostled when it touched ground.

Zara spoke. “You’ll see an entrance into this hill. Come inside.”

Jaxx opened the cockpit and hopped out of his Air Wing. He fell when the ground rumbled and a thunderous roar echoed across the sky.

He stood and glanced up, seeing the giant planet-killing ship coming in closer to the city, starfighters and combat-mechs sending projectiles and energy beams in its direction, hitting the behemoth but doing very little damage.

A red, fiery energy began to grow at an indentation beneath the ship’s midline, creating a ball of energy. A few fighters targeted the ball, sending missiles and tracers, only to be met and repelled by a focused shield.

It wasn’t looking good.

Jaxx pushed on, as instructed, going against the impulse in his mind and body. He longed to stay, fight, and die with these wonderful Beings trying to save Taiyo. “Who are these Agadon?” he asked over his helmet’s comm line.

“They aren’t from our galaxy, that’s why they are so dangerous, Jaxx. They have been locked out until now. But they were waiting, amassing,” said Abdu.

Jaxx rounded the hill and halted when he saw an entryway, built with white and red stone. Abdu was standing to the side of the doorway, hands crossed in front of him like a calm, happy monk. “They want to prevent you from helping the Atlanteans ascend.”

Jaxx hurried to the entrance. “Ascend?”

“In time you will understand that word. It is our hope that you will help the Atlanteans to ascend, the homo sapiens sapiens – your mixed Atlantean-human race – to also ascend, and in that way, the rest of the galaxy will follow suit, doing so from your examples. The problem is, the Atlanteans were too hasty, too greedy, too eager to ascend that they forgot one vital component – one must be an anchor to a group in order for a group to ascend. Your anchor went missing. We have to find him or her.”

Jaxx entered the hill, not completely understanding what Abdu was saying, but knowing who the anchor was. “It’s a her and her name is Bogle.” He stopped, awed by his surroundings. “Whoa, is this a pyramid?”

“Yes, now up the tunnel.”

A tunnel, the same type of tunnel in the pyramid on Callisto and in the pyramid on Leonia, went up and likely into a king’s chamber. “You’re serious? This is really a pyramid?”

“It is hidden well, and has been here for hundreds of thousands of years.” He grabbed Jaxx by the arm and they hunched over, moving up the white stone passageway, passing spheres of blueish-white lights hovering every ten or so feet on the walls, lighting their path.

Coming to a platform, they rushed into the king’s chamber.

The Taiyonian queen, Emi-zan, stood beside a sarcophagus, a coffer, her eyes weary, sad. She dipped her head.

Kiyo-zan stood next to her, along with Zara.

“Ganbarou,” she said.

“Good luck to you too,” replied Jaxx, bowing to her.

They braced themselves as a growl consumed the world, shaking the pyramid. Then a brief, silent pause, then the world hummed, dirt and dust fell from the ceiling, and an earthquake jostled the room back and forth.

Abdu helped Jaxx to the coffer. “Put your hands on the edges.”

Jaxx wrapped his fingers around the edge of the coffer, just as another explosion rocked the earth.

Emi-zan gasped, taking her hands off. “Watashi wa hitobito za hitori ze kurushimu koto wa dekimasen.”

“Your people are dying. You leave us now, you die with them,” explained Zara. “Now, put your hands on the coffer. We can save your line if you do.”

Emi-zan backed away, shaking her head. She dashed out of the entrance and around the corner. Kiyo-zan jerked away and ran after her.

“No,” yelled Jaxx. He lunged for Kiyo-zan, grasping the back of Kiyo-zan’s shirt and yanked him to the ground.

Kiyo-zan kicked his legs, breaking loose from Jaxx’s grip.

“Not enough time,” said Abdu. He pounced, taking both Jaxx and Kiyo-zan by the back of their shirts and lifting them over and dropping them inside the open sarcophagus. Abdu clasped both hands together as the pyramid continued to shudder, the ceiling breaking apart, dropping clumps of rock on the ground, coating Abdu’s and Zara’s fur.

Abdu and Zara nodded, then closed their eyes, thrusting their hands onto the ceremonial coffer.

A wave of sharp energy shot through Jaxx. His chest lifted toward the ceiling, just as it had the first time he’d been on a granite slab inside a pyramid, his back arching as they floated off the ground.

A flash of light covered Jaxx’s sight and penetrated his cells, widening them, expanding them in precisely the same way as before. He felt his body drifting upward, too light for planet Taiyo’s gravity, his hands and feet went numb, his spine firing synapses to every area of his body, activating suspended DNA, connecting him to the pyramid. A vast network opened up like a map before him, those glorious golden beams connecting planet to planet, pyramid to pyramid. This time, however, he understood something he hadn’t before. He could pick and choose which line, which beam he’d like to cross, and to which planet or moon he’d like to travel.

He floated as if he were in a sea of water, with no sound, no movement other than his own, and pressed a beam that connected to his own Solar System, the one where he was born and raised. He slid his finger across the line, pushing Neburu, Pluto, Neptune, Uranus, and Saturn out of the way, and pressed his palm against Jupiter.

Jupiter grew large, displaying the moons that orbited it. He grabbed Callisto like a marble ball and pressed it against his heart.

Then, the inevitable darkness.

And rainbows, colors penetrating every aspect of his soul until his arms started to tingle, then his face, neck, and finally, the rest of his body.

He took in a deep, cleansing breath. He was in Flood of Dawns’ Great Pyramid, back on Callisto. And one by one, Zara, Abdu, and Kiyo-zan materialized in front of him.

Zara eyed Jaxx. “Let’s get moving.” Her eyes moved to the chamber’s exit.

Jaxx gathered himself, then ran to the platform just outside of the room and slid down the tunnel. His feet hit the cold, desert-like terrain and he popped up. He took a few fast strides then stopped.

His shoulders drooped and his hopes fell like a thousand perfectly placed dominoes.

Fire raged across the city, its glass dome broken in several places, Atlanteans strewn all over the land between the pyramid and the city.

Flood of Dawn was no more.

39

Edge of J-Quadrant, Starship Atlantis (Slipping Further Away from Jupiter)

A man, clad in all black led Craig’s daughter down a hallway. Her tears blurred her vision so she didn’t know exactly where she was going, and if they hadn’t been blurred, the memory of her mom’s brains smeared across the wall, blood splattered over her and the bed, replaying over and over in her head would have fogged her sight anyway.

Right now, all she knew was to trust her father’s words, “I’m having this guy take you someplace safe, darling, until we can eradicate the threat.”

Her eleven- year-old mind didn’t comprehend threat. She understood that her mother was dead, shot right in front of her eyes and maybe that was the threat? Or, the man who shot her mother was a threat? It wasn’t computing. All that was computing was an emptiness in her chest, a hole full of misery and fear in her heart.

“Stop, Miss.” The man in black touched her back, halting her. He turned her in front of an orange, rusty door, three times the size of the regular doors on Starship Atlantis. A small, round window was atop the door, too tall for her to see through, even on her tip-toes.

He slid a card down the control panel, then typed in a code. The door slid open.

The man held her by the collar and bent down on one knee, a strong minty smell coming off his breath. He had an accent. A really bad, fake accent and all she could see were his eyes. The rest of his face and body was covered in a black jumpsuit, a military vest wrapped around his back and chest. “You’ll be safe in here. Be nice to the people inside. They are doctors and may need to poke and prod you, but they will not harm you. Do you understand, Claudia?”

Claudia nodded her head up and down, her innocent eyes betraying her doubt.

“Don’t do anything that your dad wouldn’t want you to do in there, Claudia. Okay? Be a nice little girl. These are your dad’s people. They won’t harm a hair on your head.”

She nodded her head again and the man stood, tapped on her back a couple of times to push her forward and through the entrance into a large room filled with rusty walls. To the right, Claudia could hear some commotion and movement, but they were out of view.

“Claudia, go.”

She held her ground.

The man nudged her forward. “Get going, Miss.”

She didn’t budge, shaking her head, adamant. There was something about this room that creeped her out, that caused goose bumps to rise on her skin.

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this.” He picked her up and walked through the entrance, taking a sharp right and set her on the ground.

Claudia gasped. “Sissy!”

Her sister was sitting in a chair surrounded by several men and women in white, scrunched in by monitors that spouted numbers and graphs across the screens.

“Claudia?” Her sister bounded out of the chair, her small legs taking her across the storage room into the arms of her overjoyed sister.

The man who brought Claudia into the room exited, the heavy door clanging behind him, but Claudia didn’t care anymore, didn’t care about her fear she’d felt upon first glimpsing this room. She was safe now and with Rose, her sister, just like her father told her she’d be. She wanted to tell Rose that everything was going to be fine and that she would protect her, that their dad would protect them from now on. But she didn’t. To Claudia’s mind, her sister was too young to understand.

“Girls,” said a woman. “I’m Dr. Andrea Cross. Can you come over here for a second?” She held up a rubber knee hammer, a device just about every child had seen during a doctor visit or two. “Your dad wants us to check your reflexes.”

The girls unclasped from each other and walked over to the doctor.

Andrea gestured to her assistant. “My friend here will work on you, Rose. So, please sit back down and relax.” She motioned toward a chair with restraints, the chair Rose was sitting on before Claudia entered the room.

“And Claudia, you sit here.” She patted a similar chair a few feet away. It too had restraints.

Claudia sat down, touching her knee. She never liked the feeling of that rubber hammer thing connecting with her knee, causing her lower leg to twitch. It was weird.

“We’re going to have to strap you in, girls.” Andrea buckled Claudia in at the waist, then tied her arms, and bound her head against the back of the chair.

Claudia’s eyes darted around, doing her best to locate her sister. This wasn’t normal. She’d never been seat belted in during a doctor’s visit, especially around the head.

She moved a few inches, but the restraints held Claudia in place. She could only see her sister’s feet. “Are you okay, Rose?”

“I’m okay,” responded her sister. Her sister’s patent-leather Mary-Jane’s bounced back and forth, telling Claudia her sister was fine. And that most likely this entire scenario was fine...was normal...just something she’d never experienced before? She had to be an adult and fearless. She had to grow up.

“How are you doing, Claudia?” questioned Andrea.

Claudia nodded. “I’m fine.”

“Excellent. Now, just look at this thing right here.” Andrea pulled a long, black gadget, the size and shape of a pencil, from her coat pocket. A man handed her a long cord attached to a monitor. Andrea looked it over and fit it into the bottom of her gadget, clicking the cord in place. She slid her hand up the gadget and twisted the top. A red-light glowed. “Do you remember what we did to your mommy?”

Claudia didn’t know what she meant by we or any other word in Andrea’s question. In fact, she didn’t see this Andrea lady in the room when her mom was killed. There was no we about it. It was only one person who killed her mom and he had minty breath.

She held her breath and stiffened. The guy who escorted her here had minty breath.

“Sit still,” said Andrea. “This will only hurt for a second.” She moved the red light closer to Claudia’s eyes.

A strong heat hit Andrea between the eyes, then a zap went through her forehead and to her brain. Her body and chest lifted off of the chair, her arms and hands went rigid, her fingers outstretched. She convulsed and convulsed again, her eyes widening, saliva frothing at her mouth.

She screamed. Her little sister let out a blood-curdling yell. She went to reach over, to hold her sister’s hand, to do anything to comfort her. Her arm was stuck, her legs wouldn’t kick, and her body wasn’t cooperating. She was writhing, out of control.

Memories came flooding to the surface. Her mom playing with her at home in the sand box in their backyard, years before her father became the president of the United States. They gathered sand in their shovels and filled up several beach buckets, laughing at each other, playing around like loving mothers and daughters do.

The memory left, evaporating, disconnecting from her brain. Gone forever. She attempted to bring the memory back up only to realize she didn’t even know what memory she was looking for.

She took in a deep breath as another memory popped up from the recesses of her mind. It was one that brought her the most happiness, one of her most cherished. The time her mother surprised her at school, holding a doll and flowers. Her mom had been gone for months, she didn’t know where to, but there she was, picking her up, a smile on her face, tears in her eyes.

An instant later, the memory disappeared. It was now a blank wall, no longer a remembrance of any sort.

A thousand movies and pictures ran through her mind, then were erased, thrown away like corrupted computer files. Suddenly, a new memory came into being. Claudia was young, too young to be watching this, and staring at her mom’s dead body lying in a ditch, her mother’s car smashed against a tree, its wheels flat and broken, its front-end dented in with steam rising from the engine. She was with her father and her two-year old sister. They were holding each other’s hands, police lights shining and blaring in the background. She stared at her mother’s dead face and blank eyes.

A new memory entered Claudia.

At four years old, exactly seven years ago, her mother died in a car accident, hit by a drunk driver.

“What’s a drunk driver, Daddy?” Claudia watched her new memory ask that question. Claudia looked up at Doctor Andrea, who smiled back at her. It was Andrea’s question, but coming out of her own lips in this new memory. Then she sank back into the memory, her eyes trained on her father, who looked just like she felt.

His eyes were sad and swollen. “That’s something you’ll learn when you get older.”

Claudia struggled for air, then came to.

Andrea was in front of her, grinning, combing her hair. “Do you remember what we did to your mommy?” inquired Andrea.

Claudia gave her an odd look. “My mom died in car accident a long time ago. Were you there?”

Andrea shook her head. “No, sweetie. I wasn’t.”

“Can I see my dad yet?”

“Soon. Very soon.”

40

Edge of J-Quadrant, Starship Atlantis (Slipping Further Away from Jupiter)

Craig spun around as Slade entered his quarters. Slade could tell he had been crying for quite some time, yet there was anger behind it all. “Are both of my daughters safe and accounted for?”

“Yes.” Slade wanted to roll his eyes. He hated emotions and the sob stories that people tell themselves to feel better. He wanted Craig to grow a pair of balls, to man-up.

“Are my daughters okay, Slade? I need to know that.”

“They are fine. Their minds are being wiped, replaced with new memories of their mother. You’ll be happy to hear that your wife didn’t die by gun, but by a car accident when your children were two and four years old.” Slade paced over to a door adjoining this room to the next room. “We commence now.”

“This is gonna be quite the battle we’re entering into. You have our transport ship ready?” asked Craig.

“Yes, ready to take us to Callisto. The Kelhoons have a palace already in place for us. I can’t wait.”

Craig walked over to a drawer and opened it up, pulling out a handful of vid cards. “Have you seen the pictures?”

Slade nodded. “Yes. It’s going to be a different life. Don’t forget that.”

“When is the first shipment of humans due from Earth?”

“In a month. Starting with a batch that includes my son, Drew. He won’t be a slave or on the farms. I’ll convince him to help us with our new line of work.”

Craig shot him a look. “Drew? He won’t comply. He’ll be like the politicians on Starship Atlantis. They mutinied, remember?”

Slade curled his fingers in a ball. “First off, we crushed that mutiny and emerged victorious. Second, he’s the only blood that I have left. I’ll change his memory, like I did with your daughters.”

Craig sighed. “Okay, Slade. But if he gives us half the trouble that Ken Furr gave us, then you and I will have trouble. Understand?”

Slade didn’t respond. He opened the door to a massive room, filled with weapons, military boxes, and Kelhoon soldiers, all ready to pounce on as many humans as they could find.

Except Craig’s daughters. Slade made damn sure they wouldn’t eat Craig’s daughters.

Orders were orders.

41

E-Quadrant, Earth ~ Whitefish, Montana

A loud roar boomed across the sky and the helicopter bounced, hitting turbulence. Drew shuddered in his seat. He turned, looking out the front window. He moved his helmet mic closer to his mouth. “What was that? If it’s a US fighter jet, then this time I’m making you put Master Sergeant Angel Segarra on the radio.”

Anderle kept his mouth shut and pointed toward the distance. A large black cloud grew over the horizon, lightning striking all around it, highlighting a massive ship armada coming through. All ships were cut like perfect, silver diamonds. “They are on their way.” Anderle dipped the helicopter. “We’re landing in Whitefish in a couple minutes.”

Segarra inched forward on his seat and Mya laying her head against his side. “Let me on the radio. If you don’t, then Whitefish won’t let you in. You’re in a damn Chinese helicopter.”

Anderle gave Segarra an exaggerated smile. “That’s another reason we needed you.” He flipped a switch on the console. “You’re on the mic. Speak.”

The cloud grew bigger as it moved closer. Drew shifted in his seat. They had no chance against that number of ships, or any ships. No one had a chance. “They are going to devastate Whitefish. We have to find someplace else.”

Segarra jumped on the line. “Whitefish Global Command, this is MS Angel Segarra. We will be landing in under a minute. We need clearance. You have outer terrestrial birds coming your way.”

“Master Sergeant, we copy. What is your access code?”

Segarra glanced at Anderle and T-hacker. “I can’t give those at the moment.”

“You’re in a Chinese craft. We cannot give permission unless you give us the Whitefish codes.”

“Hold on, Global Command.”

The helicopter moved in closer to the city, a large mountain looming over it, a blue sky quickly being overrun by a tornado of black clouds – the armada moving in faster. Drew tilted closer to the cockpit, focusing on an anomaly. Something he’d never seen before. Several turrets, hundreds and counting, with large boxes on each side, all connected by large wires to wood-shed like structures, littered the city. Some were in the middle of the streets, others on a small airport, some on top of the few buildings lining the four streets making up the downtown area. They all rotated, the cannons extending upward, aiming at the oncoming enemy ships. A couple of turrets twisted around, targeting the oncoming Chinese helicopter – their helicopter.

Segarra eyed the back of Anderle’s helmet. “Take off your helmets for five seconds. All of you.”

“No can do, bro,” said Anderle. “You give them the code. We’re fine hearing it too.”

Drew had enough, plus he had the big guy behind him to back him up if anything went awry. He unstrapped his chin strap and took off his helmet, then stood. Drew held on to Anderle’s seat so he wouldn’t fall forward into the cockpit controls. He slipped his hands under Anderle’s neck and unclipped Anderle’s chin strap.

Anderle swatted Drew’s hand away and went to get up. The helicopter dipped and Drew rocked forward, his grip strong enough on Anderle’s seat to keep him from crashing into the cockpit window. Anderle dropped back on his seat, pulling the control stick back a fraction of an inch, yelling obscenities Drew couldn’t hear. Drew yanked Anderle’s helmet off and tossed it into the cabin.

Anderle lunged for Drew a second time, the helicopter pulling to the right. Anderle jumped back into his seat, grabbing the control stick, mouthing more expletives.

Drew sat, seeing T-hacker slowly slipping his own helmet off and putting it on his lap.

Anderle gave T-hacker a look, shaking his head, obviously not happy T-hacker was obeying Segarra’s demand.

Segarra said some things in his helmet then gave the thumbs up.

Drew eyed the turrets aimed at them. They rotated, changing direction.

The cloud grew more and giant robots, twenty-stories tall, at least eight or nine stories wide, barreled down from the sky and toward the city; jet-like crafts, fire blazing out of their boosters, followed them.

Drew sat down, putting his helmet back on, breathing heavily.

Segarra squeezed his shoulder. “Thank you.” He glanced out the cockpit window. “We got a shit-show coming our way.”

The helicopter shook again as thunder erupted. Drew squeezed his fingers around the edge of his seat. “I see that.”

A click came over Drew’s helmet’s audio. “Don’t ever do that again, Drew,” said Anderle. He was now wearing T-hacker’s helmet.

“We have permission for a landing,” said Segarra. “Hurry your ass up, pilot.”

“I’m in the process, genius.”

Anderle brought the chopper into a hover and pressed the collective lever down, lowering the bird. The back of the skids hit the ground first, then the front, rocking the cabin.

Humvees pulled up, along with small Jeeps. Several Marines ran out of their vehicles.

Anderle and T-hacker pulled out their guns, hiding them by their inside thighs. Anderle grinned at Segarra. “Tell them we’re with you or you and your daughter won’t live.”

“Aye, boss,” said Segarra. He huffed, opening the cabin door. Sirens were blasting throughout the city. He put his hands up, making sure to shield his daughter, just in case a scared Marine had a nervous trigger finger. “Master Sergeant Angel Segarra, United States – ”

“Oorah,” yelled several men outside.

Drew hunched over and walked forward. They needed to hurry. They needed to find some way underground. There was no way in hell they could survive the coming onslaught. An onslaught only minutes away.

Segarra motioned inside the cockpit. “Everyone in here is with me. Take us someplace safe and by God, initiate the reflector shields.”

“They are initiating. It’s taking time. Something is caught in the software loop. We’re fixing it now.” The Marine was anxious. He knew the shields were their only way of survival just as much as Segarra did.

Drew scooted out of the cabin and jumped on the tarmac. He glanced up as a shadow spread out across the tarmac. “Well, shit.” He eyed the humvees and jeeps. All the drivers’ seats were being used and spoken for. If he could drive everyone out of here, away from the battle, he would.

Segarra frowned. He glanced back at his daughter, then at a Marine. “Get the shields online.”

“They –”

Vvsshrommm!

The sound of the turrets coming online interrupted the Marine. A white beam of light expelled from each cannon. They reached about five hundred feet, then widened, each beam touching the next. The energy field expanded outward, creating a white translucent mushroom dome over the city.

Bwoom! Bwoom!

Blasts from the enemy ricocheted off of the dome, shielding everyone below. The entire city, including the suburbs, were covered.

“What the hell?” stated Drew. “Where did we get those things?” He gestured to a nearby turret. “And what are they?” He glanced up at the ships zipping in and out of view.

“We took the turrets off black ops and into the public eye just after the government fled to the stars. These were in the underground duorail tunnels under Whitefish.”

Drew remembered the tunnels quite well. He was in them no longer than a month ago, running for his life, exposing the story on Slade getting the government off-world.

“And regarding the bastards shooting at us now?” continued Segarra. “We don’t have a clue what they are or where they came from. The turrets, well, the good news is that it will keep the enemy ships at bay. The bad news, the shields don’t go all the way to the ground. If they did, they’d electrocute every person in this town. So, in that case, the shield won’t keep any of their ground troops away – if they have ground troops and they probably do.”

T-hacker and Anderle jumped out of the cabin.

Anderle stared Segarra dead in the eyes. “We have to use your daughter. And now.”

Segarra reached into the cabin and took his daughter’s hand, pulling her out of the helicopter. “You’re right. For this attack, we have to use my daughter.”

“What the hell can Mya do that Marines and the military can’t?” asked Drew.

A boom swept across the city, the evil-ass aliens dropping something even bigger than their initial bombs.

Mya wrapped her arms around her dad. “I can do a lot, Drew.”

“You’re going to have to do it now, sweetie,” Segarra whispered in her ear.

Segarra put her on the ground. She closed her eyes. A glow emanated from deep inside her. She started shaking, her eyelids fluttering. She let out a scream and her head whipped back. She fell to her knees and raised her arms toward the sky. A sound, something Drew had never heard before, low and deep, pulsed out of her. The shield rippled and every enemy craft near the shield burst into flames.

She fell to the tarmac, her body limp.

Segarra picked her up and ran into a Jeep and shut the door. The Marines followed suit and jumped into their vehicles. They sped off down the tarmac and onto a side road.

Drew’s mouth was agape. “What the hell?” Drew watched them as they disappeared around a building and down a small hill. He turned around, seeing Anderle and T-hacker glaring back at him. “Did that just happen?” asked Drew, hardly believing his own eyes.

“It did. She’s been underground for a long time,” said Anderle.

Drew put his hands on his hips. Anderle would no doubt find a way to harness the talent or whatever it was that Mya had. He’d also use it against everyone. “Fuck you, Anderle.”

Anderle put his arms out. “What did I say?”

“You said a lot,” replied Drew. He shook his head and stared up at the shield around them. This was going to be a long war against these invaders, he could feel it.

“Come with us,” ordered Anderle, his hand on T-hacker’s shoulder.

“No. Not anymore. You’ve proved your worth and it ain’t much.” He jogged away from his old friend, following the route the Jeeps and Humvees had taken, not caring if Anderle or T-hacker shot him in the back.

Passing around a hanger, he realized his hacker buds were going their own way. He was left alive. So he peeked around a corner, watching them walk away, talking and laughing as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Typical hackers.

He was on his own. He could think like he used to and be his genius self again. He was free of responsibilities.

Bwooooom!

An energy bomb lit up the sky just above the shield and he ducked, covering his eyes until the bright light died down.

Who was he kidding? At this moment, free needed to be taken out of his vocabulary. It was time to find himself amidst the attacks while being stuck here in Whitefish for who knows how long.

He dipped his head, agreeing with his own thoughts, and took a hefty step forward, welcoming the circumstances that were not in his control, and welcoming those that were.

42

Unknown, Callisto ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System

Rivkah raised her energy and rushed the electrically charged energy bars that kept her and Bogle captive. “Let me out!”

She touched the bars, her body jerked back and forth. She released, the electricity sizzling her skin, and dropped to the cold, dirt floor.

Fox stood on the other side of the bars, Kajka Okbak next to him.

Okbak glanced down at Fox and did that creepy brain-to-brain thing he did with his latest puppet. It made her stomach curl.

Fox nodded. “He wants you to know that they will have Callisto secured in less than a week. The entire population will be slaves. The children, though, will be used as meat. So tender…”

“What?” Rivkah reached out. “You are being controlled by Okbak. Don’t let him do this. Fight back.”

Okbak turned and walked toward a door that led outside.

Fox followed him, then twisted around. “You’re going to be meat as well. They will dine on your flesh tonight.” They exited the room and shut the door.

She glanced over at Bogle. She was calm, almost glowing.

Bogle patted the floor next to her. “Before you die, come here and meditate.”

“Meditate?” She glanced back at the door. “I’ll pass.”

“Do you think you’ll actually die?”

Rivkah stood and paced. “I don’t care.” The energy bars were above her and on all sides, but not below her. “Bogle, remember when you broke open the ceiling in the tunnel under the Kelhoon camp?”

Bogle nodded. “Of course.”

“Break open the ground. We can escape that way.”

“You’re still trying to escape? When are you going to figure out that you’re free even when in chains?”

Rivkah wanted to punch Bogle up and down, left and right. Did she want to die too, and bring everyone down with her? “Break open the ground, now.”

“If you close your eyes and concentrate, you’ll see that just below us and directly under the ground are energy bars as well. Breaking the ground won’t do any good.”

“Then what do we do, beauty queen?”

“I said, sit down. You’ll be able to focus on the bars with me. I’m trying to figure out how to bend them. It’s tricky, but two heads are always better than one. That is our means of escape.”

“Screw it,” Rivkah sat down and closed her eyes. She thought of the bars in front of her, imagining them as if they were rubber. In her mind’s eyes, she put her hand on the bars and pulled them outward, bending them, giving her enough room to slip through them.

“There you go, Rivkah. You’re much better than I am,” said Bogle.

Rivkah opened her eyes. The energy bars were bent, giving her enough room to escape. “How did I –”

“Your Chi is powerful.” Bogle stood, extending her hand for Rivkah.

A click pierced the air. The door in front of them shuddered, then opened. A massive man walked in, a hood covering his face.

He bowed, then pulled the hood back, revealing that he was a lion. “My name is Abdu.”

He extended his paw through the energy bars. Rivkah took it. His paw was soft and warm. A sensation ran through them to her, sending a peaceful flow of Chi through Rivkah, settling her nerves.

Rivkah took a step forward. “Where did you come from?”

“If you two follow me, I can get you back to Jaxx.”

“Jaxx?” said Rivkah. “He’s here?”

Abdu nodded his head. “Not here at the moment, but he is on Callisto. And he’s waiting for you.”

Rivkah wanted to splay her fingers over her heart. Her bad-ass mask she covered herself in began to fade. She wanted to cry, but most importantly, she wanted to run to him. She glanced over her shoulder. “Bogle, Jaxx is back.”

Bogle smiled. “The biggest piece of the puzzle. Very good. We’re one step closer to fulfilling the prophecy.”

Rivkah bit her lip, concealing a grin. She didn’t want to psych herself out and be too optimistic with the sudden change of events, plus they needed to escape out of this structure, and now. She needed to stay focused and collected.

She slipped through the energy bars with Bogle following her closely behind. She crossed her hands in front of her. “Abdu, lead us to him.”

“As you wish,” he responded, pulling his hood back over his head. He turned around and headed for the door.

For the first time, Rivkah felt she hadn’t failed and dumb-ass luck was on her side. And soon, Jaxx would be by her side and they’d set this galaxy straight again, one way or another.

43

Edge of J-Quadrant, Starship Atlantis (Slipping Further Away from Jupiter)

“Put this on,” Craig handed Slade a mask.

Slade held the mask in his hand. It was ridiculous. Thank God the mask wasn’t of an American president. But a clown? He tossed it on the floor. He wasn’t going to wear a clown’s mask. “Mr. President...you’ve had your way on this trip more often than I care to remember, but that stops here. You’re not having your way with this clown mask.”

Craig gave a hard nod, then lifted one eyebrow. “You’re putting it on. You don’t have to wear it long.” He gave Slade a long look. “Suit yourself. You have the frequencies?”

“Yes. They are the same frequencies that Rivkah, Jaxx, and Fox used to open the portal and shoot them from M-quadrant to J-quadrant. I’m thinking it put them directly in Callisto’s orbit.”

Commotion came over the Kelhoon, all of whom were glaring at Slade and Craig. A Kelhoon, potentially the leader of the two dozen warriors, stepped a few paces forward. “Konjaka najoon.”

Slade crossed his arms and gave the death stare. “You go when we say you go. I have Kajka Okbak, your fucking leader, giving me full authority over you guys. Do you understand?”

The Kelhoon warrior turned, facing his soldiers. He pointed at the door and barked an order.

Slade pulled out his phaser, turned off the safety, and targeted the leader. He raised his gun and pulled the trigger.

The Kelhoon leader jumped and fell on his back, holding his ankle. He spun around, screaming in agony. “Koojanaka ja!”

“Because you didn’t do as I said.” Slade marched forward and put the gun between the Kelhoon’s eyes. “And because so, this is what happens.” The phaser recoiled and the Kelhoon jerked, then shook. His head sank to the floor, his eyes cold as death, a thin trail of smoke billowing from his forehead to the ceiling.

The Kelhoon warriors moved back, their guns trained on Slade.

Slade leaned into his radio unit. “Okbak, your troops aren’t obeying me. Please get them in line. Out.”

A message from Okbak was relayed into the tiny, gold radio devices each Kelhoon wore behind their ears. The warriors lowered their weapons and lined up, ready to take as many orders as Slade wanted to dish out.

Craig put on his mask. He cleared his throat. “Now, get your mask on.”

Slade looked down at the mask on the floor and shot a photon bolt through it. “Oops, I accidentally made a mess.”

“God, you’re like a child.” Craig charged forward and the Kelhoon warriors split into two lines, allowing the president a clear path to the control panel. He held his fingers just above the numbers. “Are we ready?”

He waited for Slade.

“Ready.” Slade slipped a rifle over his back, hanging it by a strap over his shoulder. “Time to knock some heads, gentlemen. Or, I mean, gentle-hoon.”

The door opened and the Kelhoon filed out. One stopped and shot at someone. A second later, a woman screamed.

“It has begun,” said Craig.

Slade followed the Kelhoon out of the room and into the hallway. A couple of warriors peeled off their formation and chowed down on the newly-dead body.

Slade never looked back. He was on the war path.

Craig trailed behind Slade, wearing that dumb clown mask. They marched around a corner. Several more shots rang out. A man squealed, twirling around, a smoky hole through is chest. He fell, dead before hitting the floor. Three Kellhoon fell upon him, their jaws slobbering and teeth glistening. They ate his face clean off the bones before he’d even had time to take on the glassy stare of death. It was meat as fresh as it gets.

More gunfire, more bodies hitting the floor; this time, someone Slade knew well. He hurried over to the downed politician and shielded the guy from the slathering Kelhoon. “Stop and get into defensive position.” He bent down, examining the man. He bit his lip. “Sorry, Rossy. At least you didn’t see it coming.” He closed the politician’s eyes, then stood, thumbing over his shoulder at Ross. “Less shooting, more marching. We have a mission. Keep your eyes on the prize.”

The gold radio devices translated his pep talk. Or at least that was Slade’s hope.

They pushed through a few doors and into a stairwell.

Slade took his first step on the cement stairs, ready to climb several levels. “Up these steps boys. We’ll be going three floors up.”

The Kelhoon nodded, pushing Slade out of the way to get to their destination first. The starship’s alarm system went off, sending an earsplitting bell throughout the stairwell.

“Yep, they have us located,” whined Slade. “Too quick, too early.” He charged up the stairs.

A phaser shot zipped past Slade. Slade fell against a Kelhoon and spun out of the way, pulling out his weapon, shooting a few random photon blasts up the stairwell.

Another blast came from above and the lead Kelhoon caught it in his chest, falling backward, toppling down the stairs until it hit another warrior.

Slade back peddled, moving himself behind a wall of tall, green lizard soldiers.

Kahkooooj!

A blast sunk into the landing just above them. The landing cracked, then another blast penetrated the landing, buffeting it upward, the cement crumbling off of its foundation, cracking off the walls and stairs, and dropping it onto the landing below it, blanketing the air in a thick, gray fog.

“Do not move,” yelled a Space Marine overhead. “The doors you came through are now blocked. You leave through those doors and Marines will blast you mother fuckers to smithereens. And you won’t make it up the stairs so don’t even try. Drop your damn weapons.”

It was true. There was no way up as the landing was gone, creating a massive gap between the stairs. They were trapped and Slade was essentially blind, not able to see any enemy Marines through the concrete steps up high.

“Don’t surrender, warriors,” ordered Slade.

They gave him a nod, waiting for more orders. These Kelhoon had been briefed that only a handful of Secret Space Program Marines were occupying this ship and that after they took care of those Marines and the rest of the troops, then they’d have free sport with the politicians and their families – plenty of meat for their stomachs and their lizard family stomachs back on their base. What Slade didn’t notify them of was that over the last several hours, Space Marines from Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore’s Star Carrier – Star Haven – were arriving by the hundreds.

The odds of victory were slim, but Slade was a betting man and he bet heavily on himself. They were going to go down swinging or get out by the skin of their damned teeth.

Slade pointed at the most heavily armored Kelhoon. “Your name?”

“Guvka.”

“Okay, Guvka. It’s too high and too far to throw a bomb up there, so I need you to climb.” He handed Guvka an explosive device.

Guvka dipped his head, understanding that his life would be given for the benefit of the others. An honor, something thought highly of in their culture.

He pulled out a dagger and eyed his friends. They all nodded in agreement, then grunted a few words.

Guvka fit the small explosive devices onto his dagger’s hilt and punched in a timer.

“How long?” asked Slade.

The warriors held out three fingers.

“Thirty seconds?” Slade narrowed his eyes. “Get going.”

Guvka pressed his blade tip against his chest, away from his heart, and crinkled his nose. He shoved the dagger into his chest, slipping the blade through his muscles and between his ribs, yelping loudly.

He took a deep breath, his pupils pulsing, hands shaking. He hissed, sinking the dagger in deeper, enough so it could not possibly come loose and fall down the stairs, wiping out his comrades.

The explosive beeped; twenty seconds remaining.

He held up his rifle and leaped for the wall, pushing off the moment his feet touched and hurdled the gap between the stairways, disappearing from Slade’s view.

Shots fired and Space Marines screamed orders. A thump and Slade knew Guvka was dead, then everything went quiet.

“Your friend is dead, now surrender or the rest of you will follow,” explained a Marine on the next landing up. “We will give you five minutes to think about it.”

“We don’t need five minutes,” responded Slade. He winked at Craig. “We’ll be up in a minute. We’re disarming now.”

Slade closed his eyes and plugged his ears, bent at the knees and balled up.

Bapoo!

The bomb went off and more chunks of concrete fell from the steps above, covering Craig and Slade in a layer of cement, gravel, and sand. The Kelhoon, on the other hand, were already up and in action and jumping over the gap the same way Guvka did and quickly moved onto the next landing.

“We can’t do that,” said Craig.

Slade stood at the edge of the gap, studying the stairs he was on and the length it would take to get to the stairs across the way. “Here we go.” He intertwined his fingers together and crouched, hanging his hands between his legs. “Run and place your foot here. I’ll launch you up to the next step over and up.”

Craig slowly shook his head. “I don’t think so, Slade.”

“What are you going to do? Wait for them to burst through the doors?”

Craig looked behind him, craning his neck to look around the twisted support beam. The doors were still closed. “Shit. I have no choice.” He took several hefty steps away from Slade and went into a quick run. He jumped, landing his foot on Slade’s hands. Slade extended his knees and threw up his hands and arms, catapulted Craig over the gap and onto the steps.

Craig wiped the sweat off of his brow. “That was easier than I thought.”

“Don’t ever doubt me, Craig,” replied Slade.

The doors crashed open and Slade drew his weapon. “You come around the corner and you’re dead,” he warned.

“We will overrun you, Slade.” It was Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore, aka the Wolf. “We know what you did to Craig’s wife. You won’t survive this today.”

Craig moved up the steps, his clown mask jostling back and forth at every step.

“Is Craig with you?” asked Slade. “I’d love to take my first kill shot on the asshole of all presidential assholes.”

“We wouldn’t put the president in harm’s way, Colonel.”

That was good. Lon still thought Craig was on his side. Probably thought Craig was in his presidential suite, grieving over his wife.

Slade pulled the trigger, his phaser recoiling in his hands. The photon bolt slammed against the wall – a warning shot. He holstered his gun and jumped, landing his foot against the wall, and shoved off. He reached for the stairs, his arms and torso hurling against the steps, his head hitting the concrete, nearly blacking him out.

A gun fired, slicing through his shoe’s heel. He let out a quick breath and swung his leg up and over the step, pulling himself onto the stairs. He grabbed his phaser and twirled around, sending several shots at an empty wall across from him, hitting true, creating a black, coal-like mess that dripped from the wall.

He ran up the stairs. The Kelhoon were waiting for him. He motioned for them to burst through the next door – Deck 5. “You have free reign. Enjoy your hunting.” He gave them a thumbs-up and winked.

They burst through the door, shooting every Space Marine in sight.

Slade and Craig bolted up the steps and onto Deck 4’s landing, hearing the explosions and screams on the deck below.

Slade holstered his gun and reached for Craig’s mask. “Give it to me.”

Craig swiped Slade’s hands away from his face. “Bad idea.”

Slade put his hand on his holstered gun’s grip. “Do it. We don’t have much time. They won’t shoot you. They think you’re on their team. They’ll shoot me on sight and I’m not risking that. Give me your mask.”

Craig sighed, pulling off his mask and handing it to Slade. “You better be right. That was my insurance policy. My way off this ship, incognito.”

Slade handed Craig his gun. “Put this next to my temple when we walk through Deck 4’s doors. A person in a clown mask, walking next to you isn’t going to fly too well in the eyes of politicians.” Slade took a few steps up the stairs.

“Wait,” said Craig. “When someone sees me with a gun to a clown’s head, I just tell them to have a good day?”

Slade thought for a moment, a smile slowly appearing on his face. “Exactly.” Slade hurried up the stairs.

Craig followed. “That isn’t going to work.”

“You’re the damn President of the United States. Whatever you say, they’ll go with. Trust me.” Slade put the clown mask on and leaned back against Craig. “Put your arm around me and the gun against my temple.”

Craig complied and pressed forward, using Slade’s body to open the doors.

“Mr. President?” said Gloria Avanoe, the Representative from Nevada. “What in God’s name are you doing?” Several other people were walking in another direction, toward the launching bay, although this woman was the only one who noticed Craig.

“Have a nice day, Gloria.” Craig side stepped her, flashing his shiniest smile, and ducked into a public restroom.

“Let go of me, Craig,” said Slade.

Craig let go and Slade kicked open a stall. There was nothing there but a toilet. He kicked open the next stall. “There it is.” A black duffelbag.

He grabbed the bag, unzipped it, and dug through, pulling out a Space Marine jumpsuit, a pilot’s helmet, and a pilot’s vest. He undressed and slapped his new clothes on quickly. He pulled the helmet over his head and shoved it on, pulling down the visor to hide the majority of his face.

“Sir,” said a man’s voice. “Are you in danger?”

Slade poked his head out of the bathroom stall.

A Marine stood next to Craig, concern in his eyes.

“Calm down there, soldier,” said Craig. “I’m fine. Is something going on?”

“Yes, Mr. President. We have a situation a few floors down. Please get to your room for safety. I’ll escort you up there.”

Slade walked out of the stall. “No need, Lieutenant. We’re getting the president off this bird.”

The Marine shuffled in place, clearly uncomfortable with this new information. “Well, uh...I’ve not been notified. I should...uh...”

“Marine, you are taking up too much of my valuable time,” said Craig. He put his hand out and the Marine took it. “Thank you for your service. What’s your name?”

“Lieutenant Buffington...Jared Buffington.”

“Well, Jared. I’m going to let your superiors know about your good deed today. I’ll make sure they look at you in a different light. I’m sorry if you weren’t informed, but I’m leaving on account of my and my children’s safety. I assure you, where I’m going will be safe.”

“Where are you going, Sir? I’ll notify the Fleet Admiral.”

Craig smirked. “I’ll contact him myself. It’s time for you to leave.”

The Marine nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

A crackle came over the Marine’s comm radio. “We need you on Deck 5, ASAP. We’ve got them secured, but we need more bodies.”

The Marine clicked his comm line. “On my way, Sir.” He turned, saluted the president and ran out of the bathroom.

“Being the president must be nice,” said Slade. “You can get away with anything.”

Craig’s eyes twinkled. “It’s better than nice. Let’s go.”

They made their way out of the bathroom and into the hallway. They followed the signs on the walls that pointed to the launch bay until it opened up into a large lobby where two large, metallic doors hugged a wall.

Alarms blared on this floor. It took some time, but the starship’s central ops eventually pressed the high alert button. The Kelhoon were on board and of course, the alarm was a great distraction Craig and Slade were waiting for.

Craig punched in his code into the control panel. It beeped and the doors slid open, displaying a bay full of pilots and technicians chaotically moving around on high alert, rushing orders back and forth from one sector to the next. Several Space Marines ran in, protecting the perimeter, just in case the Kelhoon made it up this far.

A transport ship sat in the middle of the bay. Slade jabbed a finger at it. “That’s our ride.”

“Excellent.”

They hurried over to the transport. It was much wider and longer than a starfighter, though slower and less maneuverable with practically no armor.

The transport hissed and the back portion of it opened up, clicking as it descended onto the bay floor, creating a ramp for Craig and Slade to enter.

“President’s go first, Mr. President,” said Slade.

The President formed a steeple with his hands and pressed them to his lips. He wasn’t a man of God, but it was as close as he would come to prayer. He needed this to go right. “Off to our new home. Congratulations, Slade. It’s finally done.”

The president walked up the ramp and Slade followed closely behind, their steps clanking against the ramp’s tough metal iron alloy. Slade slapped a round button just inside the transport’s cargo deck and the ship quavered, the ramp lifted. He stood, arms clasped around his stomach, and watched the ramp shut the entire way, letting Craig make his way to the bridge on his own.

“So long, my friend. You were a good ship to me.” He gave a quick salute to Starship Atlantis and spun on his heels, and paced through the enormous carrier – past boxes of supplies and a few cargo hatches – until he came to a door. He typed in the code and the door opened.

Two wide-eyed girls stood next to Dr. Andrea Cross. They screamed in unison, “Uncle Slade!” and dashed over to him, hugging his legs.

He patted their backs. “Hey, girls. It’s great to see you.” He took a couple pieces of gum out of his pocket and handed it to them, feigning an overly exaggerated smile. “Chew up.”

They popped the gum into their mouths and sat down on some chairs, swinging their legs back and forth, giddy, as if they were heading to Disneyland.

Craig appeared behind him.

“Daddy! Daddy!,” said Rose. “Uncle Slade let us have candy!”

Craig whispering in Slade’s ear. “I see they have a new uncle now? Congratulations.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d like that memory implant. They actually think I’m a nice guy.”

Craig chuckled. “Well, give them some time. They’ll see through it.”

“Where is your secret service?”

“Crew quarters.”

“Well, let’s get this show on the road.”

Craig walked over to the command chair. “Girls, follow Andrea to the entertainment area. I’m about to launch us to our new home.”

Andrea grabbed their hands and pulled them off of the chairs. “Let’s go, darlings.” She led them past Slade and down a set of stairs beyond the ship’s bridge.

Craig swiveled in his chair. “Get out of view, Slade. I can’t have them seeing you, compromising our mission.”

Slade hid behind a beam, then slid down to the floor, making sure he was outside the vidscreens vision.

Craig brought the flight deck up on the screen.

A man in white, observing calculations on a data hologram came to attention. “Mr. President.”

“Please open a tube. We’re ready for a launch.”

The space controller looked over his launch bay status screen. “Opening tube 5. Please proceed.”

“Thank you.”

The vid bleeped off and Craig rolled the craft forward. “I never thought it would be this easy.”

The vid screen bleeped back on. “Mr. President, Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore here. What in God’s black-space and everything in between are you doing?”

“I’m getting out of here. I have my kids, safe with me. Please don’t worry about my safety. I’ll be back ship-side as soon as you notify me the coast is clear.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out on a stroll until everything eases up, Admiral. I couldn’t help but hear all the commotion on Decks 5, 6, and 7. I hear enemies are on board. We have to leave now.”

The admiral eyed him like a wolf, analyzing his every word.

Craig knew Lon. He’d been looking for a crack in his story.

“The threat is neutralized, Sir. Are you still wanting to relieve yourself from this ship? If you don’t return, eventually, I will take over all controls of Starship Atlantis.”

“Why wouldn’t I return?”

“Because there is something you’re not telling me.”

The vid screen split, showing tube 5’s inner doors opening. Craig moved the craft closer. “Are you calling the president a liar?”

“Stop your ship, Mr. President. Like I said, the threat is neutralized.”

Craig continued to move the ship forward. “You do not have executive orders over me. I’m putting this bird in space.”

Craig turned off the comm link and Lon blinked out. The screen changed from the split screen to the tube.

Slade eased himself into the co-pilot’s chair as soon as the holovid was off. “Initiate Adaptive Boost. We need that space Doppler system to find the nearest portal.” Slade opened the comm line, typing in 5-1-0-0-8 into the radio frequency, making the ship itself into a massive receiver.

“Initiating launch,” said Craig, pressing the holographic thrusters, throttling them up. The ship started to move faster. The launch tube’s exit doors opened and in a matter of seconds, they blasted out of the tube and into space.

A large cruiser, cannon turrets at rest and offline, was a ways in front of them. Craig veered the craft to one side, missing the cruiser, and sped through an alleyway of fleet ships.

The Doppler system beeped and a map pulled up on the vid screen’s upper right portion, showing a spinning energy source close by.

“We go through that and they know we are up to something. They’ll see us disappear right before their eyes.” Craig glanced around the map. “Is there another portal farther off?”

“No.” Slade had no reason to look for another portal or any care to. He wanted to get away from Lon and his fleet as fast as he could. No more waiting, no more ducking, dodging, and setting conspiracies in motion. “We go through that vortex.”

Craig let out an exasperated breath. “They need to think I went down in flames somewhere, Slade. That was the plan. They need to think I crashed into an asteroid a way off in the distance. We have the detonations set and we can drop them, crack a meteor in half, cause a big stir, then blast into the next portal – a portal they won’t see us disappear into. I don’t want them following me. I want a clean break. A way out.”

Slade unholstered his weapon. This time it wasn’t a fake, a ruse. He’d pull the trigger if he had to. “Fly through that portal now.”

“That phaser is becoming your best friend, Slade. Be wary of what you consider a friend.” He adjusted his navigation to the nearest portal and changed to Sub Light 3.5, moving the ship at a much faster speed than any fleet ship was currently traveling. “We’ll be leaving the fleet in four seconds, entering the portal in six.”

Slade watched space, the stars all around it. He couldn’t see an actual portal or vortex or any energetic doorway that would lead him and this ship into another quadrant, but he knew it was there, waiting, wanting him, daring him to jump from this quadrant to the next.

A static-sound erupted and the transport ship shuddered like a house during an oncoming tornado. Slade gripped the armrests, digging his fingernails into the leather, and held his breath. Blue, yellow, and orange lightning streaks twirled inside and around the ship. An orange-lit tunnel opened up before them, sucking them in, like lint into a vacuum. The tunnel rotated, spun, pushing them at an incredible pace.

The ship rattled and the holographic instrument panel shorted in and out as the ship blitzed through.

“What the fuck is happening, Slade?”

This was the first time Slade had ever heard the president cuss. “Just hold on.” Slade had no idea if they were heading straight for a brick wall or the actual quadrant he hoped for – J-Quadrant, just outside of Callisto orbit.

Their craft suddenly buffeted and spun, lights of every color shrouded the cockpit, clouds of electric gases and more lightning erupted, creating a swirling array. The static-sound stopped and they heard a low, deep rumble like thunder. Another lightning bolt cut through the gases and then shifted, blanketing them with clouds of pale whites and reds.

Silence filled the cockpit, until Andrea, Craig’s daughters, and a few Secret Service ran up the small staircase and onto the bridge.

Andrea, nearly out of breath, held onto the kids like a mom to her own children. “What happened?”

Slade couldn’t see anything outside the window except the colorful clouds. He flinched when another crack of thunder rumbled around their transport ship. He checked his holovid, pulling up the radar. “Nothing bad. We are...” He smiled. “We are near Ganymede, a Jupiter moon. Along with Europa, Io, Lysithea, Elara, Autonoe, and bang! Callisto.”

“Where are we now?” asked Craig, standing, making his way over to his children.

Slade brought up their exact location and about fell out of his seat. They were in Jupiter’s upper atmosphere.

“Everyone, sit down and buckle up. Gravity will be a bitch, so this isn’t going to be a smooth ride. We will be heading out of Jupiter’s atmosphere and exosphere.”

With that, Slade pushed the throttle forward. They were heading to their new home on Callisto to head up a new business. Life was looking good. The plan had been perfect.

He smiled. “We’re going to live like kings.”

“Cheers to that,” replied Craig. “Cheers to that.”

44

Flood of Dawn, Callisto’s ~ J-Quadrant, Solar System

The Callisto sky was filled with ash and black clouds. Thunder and lightning split the heavens like a gong and fireworks show.

Flood of Dawn was ravaged and scorched, the trees were black with leafless branches, the homes burnt to soot, the crystal domes and palaces resembling charred coal.

The glass dome, which had given Flood of Dawn its pristine environment, was in pieces throughout the city, glass everywhere. A saber-tooth tiger lay on its side, breathless and dead, dried blood covering its face.

And everyone was gone. Other than the many dead just outside of the city, where had everyone else gone? Where did they flee to? Was there safe haven some place nearby?

Jaxx took a step, crunching glass beneath his boot, Zara and Kiyo-zan behind him.

Jaxx looked over his shoulder, eyes sad and dreary. “Where are they?”

“We can’t fulfill the prophecy without them, Jaxx,” explained Zara. “Abdu is looking for them.”

Jaxx tightened his fists. “I know.” He picked up a charred piece of rock and chucked it at a blackened crystal dome. It ricocheted off and tumbled down a small hill, the hill’s grass brown and dead.

“Nani shiyou za?” asked Kiyo-zan, his cape whipping in the breeze.

“What are we going to do?” Jaxx dropped his head. “I don’t know.” He closed his eyes, searching for Rivkah’s energy field in his mind’s eye. He perked up when he saw a faint, reddish-purple trail of ethereal smoke. It led over a desert hill, over a mountain range in a place he’d never been before. He followed it to a base in the northeast. Kelhoon ships surrounding the base. Several Atlantean starfighters and battle tanks had been broken and torn apart from what must have been a battle. A battle the Atlanteans had most certainly lost.

In his mind, he saw a Kelhoon standing over a dying soldier with golden armor, holes pierced through it, blood oozing out. He was crawling away, moving to what he thought was safety. The Kelhoon leapt, landing on the Altantean warrior’s back, then knocked his helmet down into a ravine.

The Kelhoon roared and threw his weapons to the ground and widened his mouth, lunging at the Atlanteans head.

Jaxx opened his eyes before he saw the death bite. Kelhoon ate people, ate just about every Being out there, as long as they were pristine, healthy, untainted. Atlanteans and children were as close as Kelhoon could get to their most desirable flavors.

It was sick and Jaxx needed to end this, end this for all those who suffered under their rule and torment. They were savages, plain and simple.

Jaxx bared his teeth, anger piercing his eyes. “Rivkah is alive. If Rivkah is alive, then maybe Bogle and Fox are as well. There might be a chance.” He spoke through his teeth. “Those Kelhoon must die, if it’s the last thing I do. Abdu indeed went in the right direction to find them.”

“A fine arrow separates a killer from a warrior, Jaxx,” said Zara. “One is swayed by reason. The other by purpose. A warrior fights to live and stand up for those less fortunate. A killer only lives to fight. You’re not a killer, Jaxx. Don’t become one. If you do, it will be like throwing you to a pride of starving lions. There is no telling which lion will consume you first.”

Jaxx looked past Zara and toward the east, the Chi rising up through him, fire coursing through his veins. He thrust the energy at a dome and cracked it in half, the sound echoing across the valley. “Throw me to the lions then. And I’ll return leading the pride.”

Zara stepped forward, smacking Jaxx on the back, interrupting his visions of conquest. Her purple eyes sparkled. “Every day I’m liking you more and more, Jaxx.”

An engine roared across the sky. Jaxx dropped to one knee, glancing to the heavens. An Agadon carrier, along with their combat-mechs and starfighters, came barreling through the atmosphere, blue fire from their boosters glowed upon the darkened sky. It was a sight that had become too familiar. Rage burned in his chest. He harnessed it. Didn’t matter if the power came from good or bad sources; power was just power.

“They found us,” said Zara. “They ended planet Taiyo.” She gave Kiyo-zan an apologetic look.

Kiyo-zan bowed his head, staring at his feet. “Watashi zo hitobito wanaku natta.”

“Yes,” said Zara. “Your people are no more but the spark inside your heart. Do not lose it. It will guide you strong.”

The Agadon had taken over Taiyo. They had taken over Leonia. And it was easy. Now they were here to take over Callisto, following Jaxx everywhere he went.

“Watashitachi za sorera zo tomeru tame zi inoru.”

Jaxx stood, eyes watching the unstoppable Agadon force. “Yes, Kiyo-zan. We must pray to stop them. Yet, I think we must do more than just pray. Maybe this is why we need the Kelhoon to help us fight. That’s in the prophecies, is it not?”

“It is,” confirmed Zara. “It’s time to get them on our side. They may have no choice.”

The ground shook as more ships entered the atmosphere, heading toward East-Rise, a place that was most likely as dead as the place where Jaxx stood now.

If a Kelhoon camp was there, then they were about to get a rude awakening.

Jaxx searched the energetic waves that ebbed and flowed around him for Rivkah’s signature again and gripped it tight when he found it. Bogle was close by and joined them in the ether with a smile. The three of them linked hands and let the song of the Universe dance through them, elevating them to a different plane. Only then did Jaxx understand what Abdu had meant about the space between. He opened his pineal gland as wide as he could, activating Rivkah’s third eye, and Bogle’s chakric center. Between the three of them, they had enough positive energy to punch a hole right through the center of the Agadon’s black-hearted plan.

There was a blip in a distant corner of Jaxx’s consciousness. Earth. She was under attack. He homed in on his beloved planet, the one that had given him shelter for so many years. He smiled. Earth was in good hands. A young girl, Mya, would protect. Mya could repel. Mya would lead the people of Earth from the darkness.

He turned back to his beloved, Rivkah. Her smile was radiant. She and Bogle had escaped with Abdu’s help and they were on the run, but her spirit was right here, with him. Together, the three of them would be able to halt the march of the Negatives, even if they couldn’t close up the portals permanently without Fox.

The second he thought of Fox, Jaxx saw him racing after Abdu, Bogle, and Rivkah, a weapon the size of a small country in his hand. He dropped to one knee and aimed for Rivkah.

Jaxx yelled to warn her, but it was too late.

Rivkah went down, hard.

Jaxx dug his energy into the soil, up to the stars, out to the firmament and sucked every ounce of love, hate, and everything in between he could find from any source available. When he pulled the trigger on his rage, empires would tumble and nothing – not Abdu, not Zara, not Kiyo-zan – would stop him. He was Kaden Jaxx, the one who brought death to Death’s door.

Beyond Atlantis

Ascendant Saga Book 4

1

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Nearing East Rise, Callisto

Jaxx pressed the control stick forward, rocketing past the fifteen-story statue named Lady of Atlantis, aka “Princess Leia” on account of the hair buns on the side of the statue’s head. Jaxx was reminded of the first time he’d seen her. Towering above the Atlantis skyline, the statue was a replica of the Lady of Elche stone, found in the 1890’s on a private estate in Spain. Even back in his days as an archeologist—long before his claims that Atlanteans had once lived on that pale blue dot called “Earth” had been corroborated—he’d maintained that the Lady of Elche stone was an Atlantean relic. All his colleagues insisted she had been created by some primitive culture thousands of years ago and mocked his claims, his research, and his evidence.

What he wouldn’t give to see their faces now, as his ship roared past the damned proof that he’d been right all along. The Lady of Atlantis statue was identical to the Lady of Elche stone in every regard, save size. Where one was miniature, the other was gigantic, but there could be no doubt in anyone’s mind: they were the product of the Atlantean imagination. He’d been right and they’d been wrong. It didn’t mean shit. That life was over, his colleagues left behind to rot on an abandoned planet, his new life stretching out before him, with death gnawing at his ankles. There was no time to indulge in revenge fantasies. He had to get his friends to safety and come up with a plan to rid the galaxy of evil.

He veered to the left and pulled back on his control stick, hugging the gray and white hills that neighbored East Rise.

Kiyo-zan leaned forward, pointing, “Kono-saki.”

“Up ahead?” Jaxx’s eyes followed Kiyo-zan’s finger. “Yep, inbound. We’ve been found.” The transport ship’s alerts went haywire, and the cockpit dome light changed from a natural daylight to battle-ready red. Several Agadon starfighters were descending from the black clouds, their overly extended wings were tipped with weapons that began glowing a molten orange.

Jaxx tapped the console, irritated at its slow warning system. Kiyo-zan warned him of the inbound enemies before the sensors. “A little late for the alarm, aren’t ya?” He turned toward Zara. “Strap in.”

Were the Kelhoon already in combat with the Agadon? The Kelhoon engaging the Agadon would be a good thing. Because for the first time in a long time, the Kelhoon couldn’t focus all their fire power on Callisto. They had enemy combatants of their own. They were going to be the stitch in the Agadon’s side and the Agadon the stitch in the Kelhoon’s side, giving Jaxx some time to end this war, to end both the Agadon and the Kelhoon threat. He’d eradicate two dick-headed races, unless they did it for him. How sweet would that be? If they took each other out?

“We don’t have any weapons, Jaxx,” stated Zara. “We are like an injured red-billed brandzill flying.”

Jaxx pulled back on the control stick and then right, taking the craft around a hill, moving through a massive gorge.

He closed his eyes and rolled them back. He took a mighty breath. His body tingled, then expanded. All went silent and an aura of colors enveloped his vision. A spiral of black and white spun in front of his third eye. He exhaled and became one with the craft.

He opened his eyes and turned sharply. A red energy bolt zoomed past him, pounding into the side of a hill. Three Agadon fighters were now inbound, directly on his bow. Their cannons rotated and sucked in, pushing out violently, sending ion charges his way.

He spun the craft on its side, the bolts missing. He brought his ship into a low yo-yo maneuver, rolled the transport craft’s nose into a turn, and dropped it into a steeper angle, causing the three Agadon’s in pursuit to overshoot. He had to sacrifice what little altitude he had for an instantaneous increase in speed, and it worked.

He pulled behind an Agadon starfighter. He knew he couldn’t pull the trigger, because there was no trigger to pull. Perhaps they wouldn’t see his bluff—that his ship was weaponless—and would hightail out of there to save their own asses.

No such luck.

One of them spun on a dime, something only Jaxx could do. Well, Jaxx and one other.

Not good.

It had to be Taz—the Agadon that had the same powers as him.

“Shit, that sly pain in the ass is back,” said Jaxx, pulling away, lifting his craft above the hills. A blast shuddered against the transport’s belly and Jaxx was thrust back into his tight, inflexible body. He grasped his control stick.

Zara grabbed Jaxx’s shoulder. “Land this thing before we go up in flames.”

“I’m already on it.”

Another hit rocked the craft. The display screen blipped off and on. The craft fell from the sky, the instrument panel flickering off, then powering on, then off again. They were in a free fall and the ship spun wildly in circles.

“I don’t have control,” yelled Jaxx.

He glanced at his altimeter. A hundred feet until they met the ground.

“Brace for impact.” Jaxx grabbed the sides of his chair, pulling himself into a ball.

Fifty feet.

A beep rang through the cockpit.

Twenty feet.

Everything went offline and the craft went silent.

Five feet.

The transport ship slammed into the ground, rumbling on impact. The floor buckled and the ship convulsed upward, bouncing off the ground. The restraints around Jaxx broke, catapulting him forward and into the cockpit window. It shattered, glass shards spitting everywhere, and somehow, the base of a hill started to come closer and closer to Jaxx.

No, he was coming closer to it.

He covered his face with his arms and hands. He bounced backward and expelled a gush of air when he hit the hard, frozen ground.

2

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Flood of Dawn, Callisto

Rivkah tumbled to the ground, heat sinking into her upper back. She screamed. Her legs lost all sensation. Her arms were no use. She couldn’t break her fall. Her face skidded across the rocky snow.

She struggled to push herself back up, but her limbs weren’t complying, they weren’t moving. She closed her eyes and conjured up a vision of electrical impulses zipping from synapse to synapse. They wouldn’t zip, no matter how she tried. In fact, they weren’t struggling at all. They weren’t even firing.

She knew she had been shot, but did it sever her spinal cord?

Her nose was buried in the snow. She quickly moved her head, laying her cheek against the frigid ground.

At least there was something that could move.

Her lip was split open. Blood dripped on the snow. Her nose oozed red. She could feel the snow, cold on her cheek but freaking frigid as the arctic on her forehead. Something else was going on there. Perhaps it had been stripped of skin when she took her fall. The pounding in her skull suggested a possible fracture.

This was the last thing she needed.

Someone lifted her up. The movement sent a pulsing pain coursing up her back and into her brain. She cringed. Who the hell had picked her up. Was it a Kelhoon?

She felt deep, warm fur against her limp arm. It was Abdu, her Leonian friend. The sensation was good. It meant her spinal column hadn’t been severed, but why the hell couldn’t she move her limbs?

Abdu threw her over his shoulder. “Bogle is using her Chi. She’s holding them off for the moment.”

An explosion kicked up the snow and dirt next to Abdu’s feet, barely missing him. He pushed toward a Kelhoon camp’s wall and leaped.

Rivkah’s weight shifted and she floated an inch off of Abdu for an instant. Her head came up from the jump and she glimpsed Bogle running ten yards behind them, a whole mess of Kelhoon on her tail. More of the enemy were flat on their backs, from whatever carnage Bogle had inflicted upon them.

Fox, on the other hand, was in full pursuit. It was the old Fox she remembered. The one with evil in his eyes and vengeance in his heart. His whole “buddy-buddy” thing, when they’d landed on Callisto, had been a front. Figured.

The wall blocked her view as Abdu landed. Her stomach dug into his shoulder, knocking the wind out of her.

“Go, go. Up the hill and to the right. There is a ravine with dozens of caves. We’ll lose them there.” It was Bogle’s voice. She had already jumped over the wall and caught up. Was she superwomen? How did she get there so fast?

Rivkah attempted to move, but her muscles continued to be worthless. They didn’t care that she was in dire need of safety, of help. She wanted to kick the shit out of her ligaments, tendons, bones, and brain for not complying.

They slogged up the hill, battling the snow, but it fell from the sky thick and fast, making the banks and drifts deeper and more treacherous with every passing minute.

Abdu jerked to the side, roaring loudly, losing grip on Rivkah. They both fell, landing hard on the snow.

Abdu hurried to his feet, lifting Rivkah back on his shoulder. “I’ve been hit,” he said.

Hanging over his shoulder, Rivkah eyed the black singe mark on his lower back. Smoke curled from the wound in his flesh, now completely stripped of fur. He shifted his weight and followed Bogle past a boulder and down a snow-covered rocky ravine.

“This way. Hurry,” yelled Bogle.

A blast erupted against a wall of rock, again, nearly hitting Abdu. Then another and another. The shots were erratic, as if the Kelhoon weren’t very good at running on frozen tundra while shooting at the same time.

Bogle screamed.

Abdu ran by her.

Bogle held the back of her leg, her face contorted in pain. Abdu reached down and Bogle raised her hand. Abdu moved backward and grasped it. He turned and moved forward quickly, dragging Bogle across the snow.

“Use your Chi,” ordered Abdu.

Bogle closed her eyes, concentrating. A shot skipped by her. She thrust her free hand forward. The ravine echoed with bursts of rocks falling from the lip of the cliffs surrounding them.

Several Kelhoon made gargling sounds, either in anger or pain, Rivkah couldn’t tell. She lifted her head more, but to no avail. She couldn’t see but a few yards past Bogle’s dragging feet.

“Third cave on the left. It has several exits and is attached to other underground tunnels. We can recoup there,” said Bogle.

Rivkah wanted to ask what was happening behind them. Were the Kelhoon all dead? Was Fox dead? Did Bogle somehow push the Kelhoon back? Her lips wouldn’t cooperate. The only thing that exited her mouth were grunts and incoherent sounds. She rolled her eyes, wanting to use every cuss word she could think of. If she could move her head, why couldn’t she move her lips?

Abdu pulled Bogle up a short incline. The snow then turned into rock and the outside light dimmed. They had entered a cave.

Bogle jostled her hand free from Abdu and pushed herself up, hopping on one leg. She pointed her palms at the entrance. “Move deeper into the cave.”

Abdu complied.

The cave began to shake.

Rivkah glanced at Bogle. The bottom of the cave’s entrance crumbled in on itself, rocks crashing down upon each other, blocking the entrance.

Darkness eclipsed the cave. A rumble and a few of the rocks at the entrance fell to the ground. The Kelhoon were already at the make-shift door, pushing their way in.

3

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

Drew ducked as an explosion hit the top of the energetic shield that surrounded and protected Whitefish, a city he hadn’t known existed until a few months back. The mushroom-shaped dome was made up of a shield technology he knew nothing about. Drew was no stranger to holy-shit type conspiracies. The weapons-deflecting shield, which had saved all their skins, had been rolled out in Whitefish soon after diamond-shaped ships started appearing over ancient structures and pyramids. Pretty fishy that Whitefish, home to a secret United States Military installation, was protected by super-advanced tech, while the alien craft bombed the almighty hell out of every city they could find.

And now these alien craft were directly over Whitefish.

Kachoooj! Kachoooj!

Drew, in his ducked crouch, put his hands over his head. He looked up. Smoke rose from the top of the mushroom shield more than two or three hundred feet up.

A craft, about the size of a jet fighter, swooped in, dropping another red ball of charged ion on top of the dome.

Kachoooj!

The shield fizzled, vapor rose to the sky, and Drew ducked even more.

He was in the middle of downtown Whitefish—a five block by five block of shops, bars, offices, and more bars. It wasn’t his kind of town. It was too small, too cramped.

Hell, was there a marijuana dispensary around? A joint would calm his mind, take the care out of life, and allow him to go slowly into the depths of full-body relaxation. It was his massage of sorts and he missed it greatly.

He spotted a marijuana leaf above a square building almost a block away, the words underneath—Bloomingbuds.

A Marine ran past him, a tool case in his hand, and stopped at a shield battery sitting behind a turret. The battery—the size of a shed—sat in the middle of the road right smack in between dotted, white road lines with a turret-looking cannon attached to the battery by wires. The cannon shot out a continuous beam of translucent white light into the sky, connecting to other beams, creating the domed shield.

The Marine hastily unscrewed a part of the battery. The cannon beam shut off, exposing a new hole in the mushroom shield.

Drew uncurled himself and stood. He took a step forward, biting his lip in panic, his heart beating harder in his chest.

Was this guy taking the shield down? No! Bad idea, bad, bad idea.

The Marine scrounged in his bag and pulled out a similar-looking part he just threw on the road. He screwed it on the battery.

Zzzzzzzzzzzz!

The beam came back to life.

Drew rubbed his arm. He was getting paranoid. But why wouldn’t he? Some strange ET group had invaded his home—Earth—and all of the politicians, including his Dad, Slade Roberson, had left Earth for a new home. And that was just the tip of the iceberg.

And where the hell had Anderle and T-hacker gone? He hadn’t seen them since he’d arrived in Whitefish on the helicopter. After unstrapping his restraints and getting off the bird, Drew had purposely gone the opposite direction as Anderle and T-hacker. Those two bumbling liars had disappeared around a building, heading to the north of town. They had an eye for trouble, an eye to help themselves while screwing over everyone else. Whatever they were doing most likely wasn’t good. Hence, Drew wanted nothing to do with them.

Kachoooj! Kachoooj!

A family, two red-head children and their red-head mom, raced across the street and into a bar, covering their heads as if charred debris could fall on them at any time.

He followed the family, stepped up the wooden steps, and opened the bar door. A warm, thick breeze full of cooked vegetables and coffee flew in his face.

The bar was full. They glanced up at the ceiling as another blast hit the shield, shaking the building. They brought their eyes back to their coffee mugs a moment later, looking too tired to think. Drew knew the feeling. They’d been under attack for so long he could scarcely remember a time when they hadn’t been ducking and dodging and waiting to be vaporized. But it had only been a few days, no…a week. Maybe a month? Weird how time could concertina in on itself in times of great stress. It felt more like a million years.

A man at a table clanged his soup bowl and yelled across the bar. “Megan, get me another bowl of soup. This didn’t fill me up.”

A woman, no more than Drew’s age, beautiful, brown hair flowing over her shoulders, and blue eyes that could brighten any guy’s day, washed a glass behind the bar. “Marines have us on rations, Carl, and for good measure. We don’t have an unlimited amount of food, if you’ve forgotten.”

The guy threw his napkin on the table, stood and grumbled something inaudible. He kicked his chair to the side and wiped his hands, eyeing the exit. The problem? The guy was as big as a bear, looked like he was ready to pounce, and Drew stood between him and the door. Drew stood to one side, but the guy slammed his shoulder into him as he walked by. “Move it.”

Drew jerked back, doing his best to absorb the blow. “Sorry to get in your way, buddy.” Sarcasm came naturally to Drew. He didn’t hold back.

Carl stopped with his hand on the door handle. He turned and flared his nostrils. “What did you say, little man?”

Drew wasn’t little, but compared to this guy, everyone was. Drew knew it would be unwise to pick a fight with Carl, let alone say any more words to him. Drew’s mouth, on the other hand, had other ideas. “I would love to insult you but I’m afraid I won’t do as well as nature did.”

Drew gulped. Why the hell did he say that?

Carl reared his fist back and swung at Drew. Drew jumped out of the way, eyes like saucers. Another fist came at Drew’s jaw, connecting, knocking Drew into the corner of the bar. Glasses and bowls slipped off the countertop, crashing to the floor, shattering into hundreds of pieces. Carl’s knee came up into Drew’s stomach and Drew lifted a few inches off the ground, then fell to the floor, holding his stomach and gasping for breath.

Carl grabbed the top of Drew’s hair and pulled him to his feet.

“Stop it, Carl.” Megan ran between them and pushed Carl away from Drew. “Leave, alright? Just leave.” She put her hand on his chest, her voice steady and low.

He gave her a long look, then turned and exited.

Megan spun on her heels, her eyes like an inferno. “You’d do well if you keep your Goddamn mouth shut in this town, stranger. Do you hear me?”

Drew rubbed his chin, his body buckled over. “Yes, miss. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry ain’t getting you any soup or coffee.” She walked behind the bar and pointed at the door. “You leave, as well.”

“I haven’t had food in…I don’t know how long. Please, I—”

“Megan, he’s with me.” Master Sergeant Angel Segarra rose from a table at the back of bar. He was with Mya and some other Marines.

Mya smiled, her eyes full of the same innocence he’d seen every day for the weeks he’d been with her, more or less saving her. She, however, was now some type of superhero, able to heal someone’s broken nose with a touch. And if shit wasn’t already strange, right after they landed in Whitefish, she evaporated alien jet fighters with some kind of energy that emitted out of her body.

“He’s with you? Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Megan muttered. She pulled out a dust pan and grabbed a broom leaning against a wall. She stomped over to Drew and shoved them in his face. “Clean your mess, and I’ll give you some vegetable soup and coffee. Alright?”

Drew swept the shards of glass and bowls into a pile. “I don’t drink coffee. Any water?” He brushed the pile into the dust pan.

Megan slid a small garbage can over to him. “Drink the water in the soup. Otherwise I have to boil water for ten minutes. We got hand cranked generators keeping the water flowing, but we don’t know if those ETs are slipping any harmful materials in the rivers upstream past the shield. And I’m not boiling anything for the next few hours.” She tapped her gas stove, indicating that’s where she’d boil it.

“Drew, come over here,” called Segarra.

Drew emptied the dust pan and walked over.

“Where did you last see my wife and son?” Segarra looked at Drew, his eyes full of hope.

A memory of Segarra’s wife came to Drew’s mind, her outstretched arms reaching for Mya, a pool of blood surrounding her. His wife, Mya’s mom, had died in a car dealership, struck by a string of bullets, and as for Segarra’s son? He was smashed under a fallen cement ceiling. He couldn’t have saved her or the boy. And now he was supposed to tell this strong Marine, who could take Carl—the bear—to the ground with one arm tied behind his back, that his wife was dead, and died right in front of Drew? And that he held Mya back from her mom, the child who could heal with a touch, while her mom was dying, asking for help, wanting to be with her child in her last breaths of life?

“I last saw her in Charlotte, North Carolina.”

Segarra shook his head. “That’s not good enough. I can tell you’re holding something back. Now, what is it?”

Drew glanced at Mya, then back at Segarra. He wasn’t going to tell him in front of his daughter. “Can I chat with you outside?”

Kachoooj!

The building shook again.

Segarra nonchalantly stood, as if ET bombs dropping on a science-fiction-like shield around the city was a normal thing. “Let’s go.”

Drew followed him toward the door.

Segarra stopped at the bar where Megan stood and leaned in. “Can you watch my daughter?”

“I’m not your babysitter, Mr. Marine. I know she has extra powers and stuff, but she ain’t any more important than the rest of us.”

Several people in the bar nodded, as if Mya was getting the celebrity treatment she didn’t deserve.

“I’m just trying to get you two to bond. You seem the most liked in this town, and my daughter deserves some praise.” Segarra put his hands on the counter and craned his neck to look at a Marine sitting next to his daughter. “Keep an eye on her, Buster, will you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Segarra lightly rapped his knuckles on the counter top and winked at Megan. “I appreciate your gratitude for what we’ve brought here. If you haven’t noticed, we’re saving your asses.” He pressed his lips together in a straight line as if stopping himself from saying anything further. He thumbed over his shoulder toward the exit, keeping his eyes deadpanned on Megan’s. “Let’s go, Drew.”

They walked outside. Drew shifted his eyes toward the sky. A massive ship hovered overhead, blue lightning zipping down from its belly, covering the mushroom-shaped shield like an electric charge from a tesla coil.

“Stop hesitating and just tell me,” said Segarra.

Drew glanced at his feet. “Sorry…I…uh.”

“Is she dead?”

Drew nodded.

Segarra stepped back, as if that was the last thing he wanted to hear. He bit his lower lip, doing his best to stop his chin from quivering. “And my…son?” Segarra’s voice cracked.

“He is too.”

“Dead?”

“Yes.”

Segarra put his hand over his mouth, taking an even bigger step backward, as if someone had taken a knife and slammed it into his heart. He cleared his throat and rolled his head. He tapped his foot, looking away. “Okay…umm…thank you for keeping my daughter alive. I owe you my life.” He unclipped his gun from his belt and handed it to Drew. “Keep this. It’s an M118 advanced phaser. It will keep you alive and kill any ET bastards that may get into the city.” He pressed the base of the handle with his palm. “You have a one-hundred-and-eighteen-hour charge with this magazine, hence the phaser’s name. You could literally shoot this thing for a hundred and eighteen hours straight without needing a new charge, but I wouldn’t recommend it. At about ten minutes of constant trigger pulling, the gun would melt and your hand would erupt in fire. Keep it near and dear to you like your family.”

Slade was Drew’s father. There was nothing near and dear about the guy. Jaxx, on the other hand, was his uncle. And he considered Jaxx family, who was probably the only family he had left.

Segarra pushed the gun into Drew’s chest as a tear streamed down the guy’s cheek.

Drew grabbed the gun, then gasped and ducked for cover.

Bratatatatat ratatatat!

Machine guns echoed somewhere in the distance.

Bawooop!

Then an explosion, not from above, but somewhere in the city—and it was near. Too near.

Alarms blared and Segarra glanced around. Marines were rushing down the street, rifles in hand. “Get to safety. Use that weapon well.” Segarra rushed to the bar door, quickly opened it and stepped inside.

Drew’s stomach growled.

Crap.

And all he wanted was some damn food. Or some Mary Jane smoke in his lungs.

Now he has to fight? Fight who, exactly? Little green aliens with almond-shaped eyes?

4

J-Quadrant, Solar System - East Rise, Callisto

Rivkah lay on her back. A dim light streamed through the slits between the rocks piled at the entrance of the cave.

A rock fell, then another.

“They’re breaking through,” said Bogle. She rushed to the entrance. “I’ll energetically lift more rocks and stuff the gaps.”

Abdu went to his knees and touched Rivkah’s stomach. “You’re losing life quickly.”

Rivkah moved her eyes to Abdu’s. She wanted to tell him to just shoot her in the head and get it over with. But nothing came out, no matter what she tried to say. Minutes ago she could mumble, murmur grunts when Abdu carried her on her back.

Now…nothing.

“I’m going to send healing energy to you, Miss Rivkah.” His hands vibrated. Rivkah felt the heat radiating from them. A rush of energy ran through her body. She twitched and twitched again.

A crash of rocks pounded through the cave.

“They’re getting through,” yelled Bogle.

Rivkah shook, her hands involuntarily jerking back and forth as if she was being electrocuted. Her energy was coming back, her lethargy diminishing. This Abdu—half, human, half-lion—was a kind of healer Rivkah had never experienced. How the hell was he doing that? He was breathing life back into her—life she desperately needed.

Krackakakracka!

A blast of rocks rained down on Abdu’s back, pushing him on top of Rivkah.

Bogle screamed and flew into Abdu, tumbling over him and onto her stomach.

Abdu pushed himself up and into a crouch. He grasped the rifle on his back and clutched it in his arms. He aimed and pulled the trigger.

Rivkah tried to get up. The power flowed down her arms, but her hands were still numb. She crumpled and fell, her vision shifting from double to triple. She wanted to throw up, but at least her body was working. She ought to be happy, but happiness wasn’t her thing. Especially at a moment like this. Was she going to get her life back, just to lose it to a damned Kelhoon?

A phaser zipped past Abdu and just above Rivkah. It hit a rock, echoing across the cave.

“Can you move, Rivkah?” asked Bogle, her hands outstretched, doing her Chi thing on the cave. Another rumble vibrated against the walls and the cave dimmed again.

Rivkah pushed up on the back of her elbows, shaking her head. “I see two of you, Abdu.” She shifted her eyes to the cave entrance. “I see two entrances. Good job, Bogle. You built a wall there.” It was the first time she had given the beauty queen any type of compliment. Rivkah blinked several times. There must be something really wrong with her to say anything nice about Bogle.

“Bogle rebuilt the wall at the entrance rather well, buying us a few more minutes,” Abdu responded.

“We need to hurry down one of the back tunnels,” said Bogle.

Rivkah went to get up, then sighed. “Son of a mother’s…” She shook her head. “I still can’t move my legs.”

The cave lit up and Rivkah’s eyes went wide. Did the Kelhoon burst open the entrance’s new make-shift rock wall? One look told her they hadn’t. It was Bogle. In her hand, she had a small fire flaming a few inches off of her palm. Two palms—Rivkah was still seeing double. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Bogle moved forward. “I’m not kidding you. You could do the same if you knew Chi like I do. It wouldn’t hurt for you to practice it as much as you can.”

“Hold still,” said Abdu, placing his giant hand on top of Rivkah’s head. A sting sunk deep into her skull and through her brain, then zapped down her spine. Her body jolted and shivered, then sat up straight, as if working on its own. A moment later, her vision corrected.

The guy was a real-life miracle healer.

“Again,” said Bogle off in the distance and deeper down a tunnel. “Chi isn’t just for fighting.”

Rivkah wiggled her toes in her boots. She twisted, ready to get up. It didn’t happen. “I still can’t move my Goddamn legs.”

Abdu picked her up and thrust her over his shoulder. Pounding filled the cavern. A rock fell from the entrance wall and a ray of light burst through. “Time to get moving, Rivkah.” Abdu dashed forward and Rivkah bounced up and down on his wide shoulder. The lion was moving fast, catching up to Bogle.

“This way,” ordered Bogle.

Abdu dashed left and ran through another tunnel vein. A cool breeze brushed against Rivkah’s legs and lower back. It meant an exit was near. It also meant sensation was returning.

More static blasted Rivkah’s hearing. She grimaced and pressed her hands against her ears. “What the hell—” Her vision tunneled and narrowed in on Bogle, even though Bogle was in front of Abdu, and Rivkah’s face was at Abdu’s furry back. To see Bogle would be impossible.

Rivkah’s sight moved up through the ground, seeing roots, red and gray rock, then ice, and snow. Her view lit up with natural light as her vision shifted from below the ground to above it. Her sight hurried forward, over the snowy terrain, around a hill, finally stopping at a Kelhoon transport ship.

Humans, bound in chains, were led out of the ship by Kelhoon troops with rifles. All the humans were young. There were dozens. Most were girls, no more than four to ten years old. A Kelhoon glanced up at the sky as a roar ripped across the atmosphere. An Agadon carrier zoomed across the heavens, lightning cutting into the atmosphere and surrounding the giant craft.

The Kelhoon lifted his rifle in the air, hissing in anger. He didn’t like this new Agadon threat. He then pushed a young girl to the ground in anger, taking it out on her.

That son of a bitch. “Where is this?” asked Rivkah. Her sight shot forward, heading toward a walled city with rounded structures inside, along with glowing sticks that rose above the walls, much like street lamps.

“Kelhoon terraforming torches,” said Rivkah. Her time in the Secret Space Program, dealing with these Kelhoon assholes, hadn’t been a complete wash.

She moved over the walls. Green grasses and wild flowers were scattered across the land. In sharp contrast, human children connected by shackles and chains, walked in a straight line toward a domed warehouse and were forced inside by Kelhoon soldiers.

She gasped. Were they headed for slaughter? She couldn’t let this happen. Above all else, saving these kids was her priority.

A memory surfaced and with it heat surrounded her heart. Her father had chained her up when she was a child for neglecting their dog, for forgetting to feed their border collie on a particular morning. Her father made them change places. The dog went into the house while she was chained to the dog house.

It lasted two days. Two days in the freezing rain, with nothing but dog food and dirty water.

She’d do anything to change positions with these children. No one deserved what they were about to face.

Except the asshole who’d sold them out and forced them to leave Earth on the back of a damned lie. Colonel Slade Roberson had said there was a habitable planet, ready and waiting for them out in the stars. Callisto was there for the taking, he said. A land of milk and honey, he said. There’d be no more war or famine or suffering, he said. But it was all smoke and mirrors. Slade thought only of himself and his powerful chums. Earth was in danger of eco-collapse and massive flooding and he wanted off-planet, asap. He’d evacuated the rich and powerful and left the rest of humanity to rot. He was a primo asshole and if she ever saw him again, she wouldn’t hesitate for a second. She would take him down, in shackles and chains, and force him to grovel at her feet.

Shit, why am I thinking about that loser? These kids need me.

Rivkah shook herself and racked focus. She had to stay inside her vision, altered as it was.

Her eyes shifted from the warehouse to a castle. She panned in on a tower that sat in the middle of it. There a man stood. No way. He was a human, strong and toned. It couldn’t be. She zoomed in more. How in the name of all that is holy is that possible? Rage hit her like a bullet train slamming into a wall at two hundred miles per hour. It was him.

It was Slade.

Her subconscious had raced ahead and brought him up from the deepest recesses of her memory. She screamed, then jerked as she came back to her present location. She was staring at the fur on Abdu’s back as she jostled up and down, her stomach and hips bouncing uncomfortably off and on his shoulder.

“We have to get to Slade,” she informed them.

“Who?” questioned Abdu.

“The son of a bitch who betrayed us.” She couldn’t find the words. How do you describe the man who sold the world? He’d gone a step further. She cleared her throat. “Now he’s done worse than merely betray us. He’s not just a self-serving jerk. He’s a collaborator, a puppet for the enemy. He’s become a Kelhoon human farmer,” growled Rivkah.

“First, we must find safety,” said Bogle.

She ignored Bogle. “Where is he?” whispered Rivkah, asking her vision, or her Chi, or whatever it was that had sent her traveling across Callisto to the walled city encircling a large castle. And just like that, she knew where he was. “Once we get out of this cavern, we head south to kill that bastard.”

The tunnel dipped and inclined.

“Uh oh!” Abdu came to a screeching halt. “Your legs work yet, Rivkah?” he asked.

Rivkah wiggled them. “A little. Why?”

“We’re at the exit and there are several—”

An explosion rocked Abdu backward and off his feet, tossing Rivkah off his back and onto her side. She rolled and gingerly pushed herself up, her legs wobbly, her head pounding from a god-awful headache.

She twisted around to face whatever it was that pushed Abdu off his feet.

She raised her arms, slow and heavy, her eyes narrowing at the abomination before her.

It was a thick man with blue-gray skin. Dark blue veins bulged on his short, stalky neck. He took three fast paces forward and placed his cold, damp hands on her throat. He squeezed and lifted her high above him. He smiled and pressed her against a rocky wall.

“Who…are you?” she asked, her breath short, her words forced through the Being’s strong grip around her neck.

He opened his mouth. His tongue was blue, his breath metallic, his words emotionless and monotone. “I’m an Agadon. C-gen-gen-43 is my name. You can call me C-gen.”

5

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

Slade bolted up, his body drenched in sweat. He was breathing hard. He looked around, wondering where he was. Silk sheets and a heavy blanket covered his legs. His hands, behind him and holding him up, pressed against a pillow where his head had been a few seconds ago. A woman stirred next to him.

The light was dim and he rubbed his eyes, getting sleep out of them. He glanced at the woman. “Rivkah?”

The woman slid her naked body closer to his. She put her arm around his waist, then pulled away. She blinked several times and wiped her arm on the top blanket. “Why are you so wet?”

Slade relaxed. It was Dr. Andrea Cross. They had celebrated last night when they arrived at their new home on Callisto, drinking too much Cargasacchi Pinot Noir. Crap, and he’d slept with her? Bad idea. The worst idea. She was now going to get too close, too personal. Then emotions would come into play, but not his. Never his.

He touched the lamp next to his bed and the light turned on and he eyed the large, marble walls and ceilings that filled this majestic room. The Kelhoon had promised him “rooms fit for a pharaoh” and they had delivered. “I had a bad dream and she was in it.”

Andrea sat up, the sheets sliding off her chest, and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Who was in it?”

Slade didn’t move, didn’t lift a finger to let her know she was wanted. “Rivkah was in my dream.”

Andrea pulled away. “Aw…her. It’s about time we killed her. Nothing but trouble.”

An image of Rivkah flashed in Slade’s mind. She was running across the barren, Callisto terrain, and worse yet, determined. An energy flashed from her heart and hit his solar plexus like a punch. A hateful punch. “She’s on her way here as we speak.”

Andrea yawned. “That’s impossible. She has no idea we’re on this moon.”

“She has no idea you’re here. That’s true. But she knows I’m here. I feel it. I see it. She wants to surprise me, but she’s too dumb, too enraged to know I can feel just about every move she makes when we’re this close to each other.”

“Dear God. I almost forgot. Just like you, she’s got Jaxx’s blood in her. You know, when she was burned on Taiyo years and years ago, Jaxx saved her by—”

Slade didn’t want a recap. He knew how Rivkah obtained Jaxx’s blood. “Yes, by giving his blood to her,” interrupted Slade.

“Do you feel Jaxx then?”

Slade closed his eyes. He shivered and goose bumps rose on his arms and back. A line of energy extended from him and across the horizon. In his mind’s eye, he followed a band of etheric energy over a snow-capped hill, down a ravine, and over white boulders.

Jaxx was face down on the ground. The ship behind him was in flames.

Slade opened his eyes and smiled. “The dumb ass wrecked a ship. He’s not dead, though.” He turned and threw the sheets off. He picked his pants off the slated floor and shoved them on. He picked up his shirt and stood beside his bed, putting it on over his thick, toned muscles. He strolled his way over to two French doors and flung them wide. Natural amber light streamed in from Jupiter’s rays. “He’s not looking for me.” Slade snorted. “He thinks he can save everyone on his own, even though he only has a Leonian and a Taiyonian helping him. It’s fun watching that madman make bad decisions.”

He stepped out onto a balcony, looking across his small kingdom: Namuh Farms. It was to the south of the conflict raging on Callisto. This place was untouched and unharmed by the war. He hoped to keep it that way.

He surveyed the city below. Artificial heat came from the walls and the Kelhoon terraforming torches. The torches were positioned ten yards from each other, encircling the entire city structure below. They brought green to the hills, long wheat grasses to the pastures, flowers to the meadows and much needed warmth to the gardens in the central city.

The massive city held towers, homes, and skyscrapers. They were unoccupied, but that wouldn’t last for long once recruiting operations began. He needed loyal workers, and lots of them. Money always talked and he figured he could convince the best of the best—wherever they were.

He put his hand on the railing. A hologram popped up beside him. He jumped back. “Chriminy almighty. You trying to kill me Craig?”

President Craig Martelle—his partner throughout the long journey of screwing-over the Secret Space Program, trying to kill off the politicians on Starship Atlantis, and starting this new venture—trading humans to fill the flesh farms on Callisto—decided to pop in for a visit.

Craig frowned. “We have a problem.”

Slade sighed. “We’ll be two of the wealthiest beings in the entire galaxy in no time. Is that your problem? Or, is your problem that we’ll have whatever we want, whenever we want, from anyone we want and soon? There should be no problems, Craig. None at all.”

“Sometimes I think you were born yesterday. Problems happen every damn day, no matter how affluent you are. Get used to it. The more money we have, the more problems will arise.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“We only have two shipments of humans so far. We were supposed to have four.”

Slade looked toward a domed warehouse. Children were being poked and prodded with electric rods by Kelhoon soldiers. They were herded into their new homes, human-sized pig pens inside the warehouse, where they’d be fed healthy, wonderful foods to fatten them up so their pure flesh could be served on silver platters to Kelhoon dignitaries and aristocrats a few months down the line. Or, if they weren’t healthy-looking enough, they’d be sold as slaves. He should have felt bad. He fished around for some twinge of guilt, but found nothing. They were human trash, he was putting them to good use. End of story.

Craig tapped his fingers on his console, sending an annoying reverb clicking down the line.

Not subtle Martelle. Not subtle at all. But Slade wanted to be done with the call anyway. He turned back to his business partner. “That’s not a problem. I had them send only two shipments. We need to learn and figure out this business before we overwhelm ourselves with too many slaves.”

Craig’s face turned from peeved to rage. “If we’re to be partners, Slade, you can’t keep this shit from me. Understand? How many times do I have to go over this? No secrets.”

“Yes, Mr. President.” Slade had no intention of honoring that request. He did what he wanted and when he wanted. Craig, being the President of the United States, was only a side show for their soon-to-be customers. It would come in handy. The Kelhoon loved the higher class, the elite, the popular. They believed the upper crust got ahead through sheer hard work and they admired those who did everything they could to rise above the rest. What they didn’t know was a trust-fund politician who’d never done an honest day’s work in his life. Didn’t matter to Slade. Craig could sell a hot, juicy steak to a vegan. That was the guy’s gift, a gift Slade wanted to utilize to the max. Craig was a one-two combo: a salesman who’d have the Kelhoon dripping green spit in a hot minute.

Slade scratched his chin. “I’ll get two more shipments here as soon as possible. You good with that?”

Craig dipped his head. “I’ll be waiting. In the meantime, I have my daughters to deal with. They are trying to play with these slave children we just brought to the moon.”

“Pick two their age and let them play.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “There is so much wrong with that idea. They will feed my children tales of sorrow and fear. They’ll talk about their parents and how they were ripped away—”

Slade put his hand up. “Send two slaves—any two you want to Dr. Andrea Cross’s quarters. She’ll rewire their brains so you can keep them as playthings for your kids. They’ll be like toys. They won’t mention a thing about their parents, because they won’t ever remember having parents.”

“It’s not going to be that easy.”

“Nothing is easy.” Slade crossed his arms. “Get used to it. Anything else, Mr. President?”

“No.”

Craig’s hologram disappeared.

Andrea touched the back of Slade’s neck, then slid her hands up inside his shirt, then down his spine. At his lower back, she wrapped her arms around his sides and to his stomach, resting her head against his muscular upper back. “Bad morning?”

If he could only go back in time and not get drunk with her, not kiss her…wait…kissing her. Letting her think she was all that he wanted and had him around her little finger would be his ticket to getting whatever he wanted from her. At least, for a while.

He twisted around and gave her a long kiss. He moved his lips softly, and slowly, away from hers, and stared deeply in her eyes. “I’m sending you on a mission.”

She pulled away, letting him go. “Oh? So soon?”

“After Craig sends you two slaves and you rewire their brains for me—” Slade paused, seeing the suppressed surprise on her face. “I’m then sending you, along with Craig’s secret service guards, on a ship to Earth. You’ll pick up another shipment of children. But that’s not all. I’ll ask the Kelhoon to let us use a few of their Zompawans. They’ll go with you as well. They are shape-shifting ETs, so you won’t know which one is which, or who is the secret service and who isn’t. You got it? The Zompawans will be at your beck and call.”

She went in for another kiss, pulling back when he continued talking.

“You’ll be extracting my son, Drew Avera, from Earth as well. Do you understand?”

Andrea looked down. Her peaceful glow and romantic demeanor changed into a hardened, no-shit doctor. Something Slade was all too familiar with. Dammit, he’d played her wrong.

“Got it, Slade. And how long have you had this planned?”

He needed her onside. He had to add a bit of sugar to his sour. Just enough to keep her curious and coming back for more. “You’ll be leaving after you work on the slaves that Craig sends you. You’re the only person I trust with this mission. It’s that important to me.” He ran his fingers through her hair, resting his fist in the nape of her neck.

Andrea eased herself toward Slade. The move was slight, but she was game for whatever was on offer. Just a couple more teases and she’d be compliant again.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You’re going to be my eyes and ears, as well as my Surgeon in Chief.”

“What’s the time frame before I leave, then?” Her voice had shifted back from clipped and business-like to the more agreeable bedroom tone she dialed up when she was ready to play.

“Two hours. And in three days you’ll be coming back to Namuh Farms here on Callisto with twelve children and my son. You’ll be changing Drew’s brain chemistry while en-route from Earth’s E-Quadrant to Callisto’s J-Quadrant. We’ll be in contact before you commence the brain chemistry transformation so I can tell you what memories I want in Drew’s head.”

She stood on her toes, rising up for a kiss.

Slade put his finger between their lips. “There’ll be plenty of that when you return. Now, go. And be careful. The Agadon are attacking Earth. You need to get in fast and under their radar and get out faster, with my precious son.”

Andrea smiled. Slade’s work was done.

6

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Nearing East Rise, Callisto

Jaxx rolled on the frozen ground, onto his front, and brought himself up to his knees. He touched his face. He was bleeding. He wondered if he had a black eye. The force with which he went through the cockpit windshield should have killed him. If not, the blow into the hill surely would leave him crippled, if not dead.

He was Jaxx, though. Some kind of mutant with ridiculous powers.

A starfighter zoomed overhead. It was an Agadon craft. It banked and circled around. It was surely coming to end his life.

He stood and twisted around. The transport was on fire, crackling in the cold wind, the front end smashed to shit.

“No, no. Zara? Kiyo-zan?” He ran over to the blazing craft, fanning the heat away from his body the best he could. It did nothing. “Zara! Kiyo-zan! Answer me. Are you alive in there?”

What a stupid question. They couldn’t have survived such a crash or hear his words over the roaring flames.

Hooooooooj!

An Agadon ship came in for a landing, descending quickly. About ten feet up, it slowed and hovered, rocks rocketing outward in all directions the closer its landing skids came to the ground.

With a resounding crack, the Liberty’s transport ship’s side door opened and flew off its hinges. Zara’s leg was extended through smoke that billowed out of the opening.

“Help me, Jaxx. Will you?” asked Zara.

Jaxx rushed over, grasping Zara’s soft, strong paw. He leaned back, pulling with all his might. Zara slid forward, Kiyo-zan laying over her other arm like a rag-doll, either dead or unconscious. Jaxx pulled her out of the wreckage.

A crunch of icy rocks underneath heavy feet filled the small gorge, followed by a metallic laugh.

Jaxx spun on his heels, his arms up in a defensive fighting stance, his body ready to deliver a load of pain to anyone standing in his way.

“Taz?” Jaxx tightened his guard, moving his fists closer to his body. “I’m not in the mood for this.”

The Agadon, Taz, lifted his hand, veins bulging from his biceps. Liberty’s fiery craft lifted into the air. Taz flicked his wrist. The ship shot toward Jaxx.

Jaxx ducked and rolled away from the ship’s trajectory, just as it whizzed by and hit hard against the solid soil, flipping on its back and against a cliff. Shards of red rock careened down the ridge, bouncing off of the transport ship’s belly and onto the white, chilled earth.

Zara crouched and lay Kiyo-zan gently down. “Not in the mood, blue-face.” She pulled her bamboo rifle from her shoulder and pulled the trigger. A purple blaze blasted out of the muzzle.

Taz ducked.

She pulled again and again and again, all the while walking forward at a faster pace, as if she knew her shots would be dodged, but didn’t care.

Taz spun this way and that way, avoiding the rifle fire. He threw his hands up wildly and Zara’s bamboo rifle whirled out of her hands.

Zara didn’t stop, didn’t even twitch.

Taz laughed, narrowing the gap between the two in a few strides. He thrust his fists together in the air.

Zara yelped and jerked to the side, as if he had just given her an energetic right hook. She toppled to the ground, then growled, jumping up on all fours. She pounced forward, unclipping a knife from the chains that crisscrossed her chest and back. “I’m going to rip this blade through your A/I throat.”

Jaxx raced forward, determined to end this blue freak too, and now. Zara might be the distraction he needed.

Taz kneed the air, sending an etheric knee to Zara’s stomach. She bounced backward and flipped head over heels onto her back. She placed the knife’s blade between her teeth, gathered herself, and pushed off the ground. She was just as determined as Jaxx.

Jaxx started in a run. He pumped his legs fast and rushed past Zara.

Taz shifted his eyes to Jaxx and thrust his hands forward.

Jaxx swiped his hands across his own body, diminishing the energy Taz just threw at him.

Only ten feet away, Jaxx lunged forward, seeing the surprise in Taz’s eyes. Jaxx threw his open palm outward, connecting flesh against A/I skin, and squeezed. Taz tumbled backward and Jaxx fell with him, shoving him harder onto the earth, still wrapping his fingers around Taz’s rubbery skin.

Jaxx bared his teeth, bringing in all the Chi he could muster, summoning all the love he felt for Rivkah, all the compassion he had for Kiyo-zan, and the gratitude he had for Zara and Abdu for helping him in these terrible times. Then hate leaked in, anger for the Kelhoon, for Slade stealing him from his home, using him for his own self-interests, and to this Agadon, this blue piece of shit who had not only kicked his ass back on planet Taiyo, but embarrassed Jaxx in front of Abdu.

It was time to end this Agadon.

“Kamooshka sakajika fajka!”

Jaxx jerked back, unconsciously relaxing his fingers around Taz’s neck. He pushed off the ground and stepped back, and glanced up in the direction of the voice. He stumbled when he saw them—hundreds of Kelhoon standing on a ridge, pointing their ion rifles directly at him.

“Give up, Jaxx, and you and your friends will live…for now.”

It was Fox, standing with the Kelhoon, his arm up as if ready to drop it at any second to order Jaxx’s extermination. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kiyo-zan stirring. Good. Kiyo-zan was alive. He’d need his friend for what Jaxx was going to do next.

7

J-Quadrant, Solar System - South of East Rise, Callisto

The Agadon—C-gen—held Rivkah up by her neck and pressed her back against the rocky ridge. His fingers cut off nearly all blood flow and oxygen to her brain. Her face was turning the color of the guy’s tongue, an ugly shade of blue. C-gen squeezed her neck so tightly, she feared her eyes might pop out of their sockets.

He brought up a gun with his other arm, pushing it against her forehead.

Rivkah chopped at his forearm, connecting with several blows. It did no good.

His laugh came out of him like a chainsaw cutting through metal. “We need you and the rest of your friends as bait for Jaxx, but if I accidently press this trigger, my central cortex unit servers recording everything I do will never know it wasn’t an accident. In fact, maybe I can change the server’s orders and have you all killed. All I have to do is…”

He twitched his head to the side several times. A loud beep sounded from what seemed to be his ears.

“Screw you, asshole.” Rivkah brought her Chi up from her solar plexus and to her arms, the hot blaze coursing more strength to her muscles.

She placed both hands on the Agadon’s arm and squeezed hard. She heard a crack, but the Agadon didn’t budge, didn’t wince, didn’t do anything that would indicate any sign of pain. Instead, he laughed.

She twisted her hands, mimicking an Indian burn—an Indian burn from hell.

C-gen’s forearm cracked in two, splitting down the middle. Blue blood splattered across Rivkah’s face and down her chest. She dropped and went directly into a crouch then thrust her fist upward, slamming her knuckles against the blue man’s chin.

His jaw bone crunched and shifted to the side, breaking on contact. He dropped his gun and buckled backward, doing his best to keep his balance.

Rivkah jumped against the ridge, pushed off with her feet, and spun in the air, landing a hook kick on the side of the man’s face.

A loud pop and the skin over his temple bone split open, opened wide, and smoke trailed out.

He dropped to the blue-speckled snow and lay motionless.

Rivkah hesitated, taking a quick glance at the guy. Why the hell was smoke trailing out of his head? Was he a robot more than a biological A/I?

“Get back,” screamed Bogle. “All of you.”

Rivkah twisted. Bogle was twenty yards away, flinging invisible energy blasts at dozens of Agadon trying to make it up a short hill to her position. Abdu was on one knee beside her, holding his bamboo rifle, aiming at the incoming Agadon.

He shot once, then twice. Two Agadon jerked back, hit square between the eyes, and fell into the ranks of Agadon behind them. The dead Agadon were thrown aside by their comrades, who trekked up the hill, their guns holstered.

Rivkah grabbed the gun C-gen had dropped. It wasn’t any design she’d ever seen before. It was light, but half the size of a rifle, twice the size of a .357 Magnum, and double the width. There was no traditional trigger. Instead, it had a blue light at the back of the trigger guard.

She dropped to one knee like Abdu, aimed the gun and sighted an Agadon in the back of the pack. She touched the blue light.

Zoowaka!

The gun whirred and a silver bolt blasted out of its muzzle. The blast hit an Agadon, slicing the right side of its chest clean off. It flipped and skidded across the terrain, down the incline. Smoke rose from the Agadon’s internal engines, which she imagined pumped vital nanite blood and other shit she could only guess at.

The one-armed Agadon righted himself and walked toward Rivkah, each step landing slower and slower.

Rivkah closed one eye and targeted the Agadon’s head. Without pulling the trigger, it twitched, stood still and went listless, falling to the rocky ground.

It was offline—or dead. Didn’t matter which. The asshole was inert, lifeless, no longer a threat.

A laser ripped through another Agadon, the shot coming in from a higher angle. Rivkah looked up. “God, they’re like a tick in my ass.”

Dozens of Kelhoon stood at the lip of a ridge, pointing their rifles at the advancing Agadon menace.

Another laser, then dozens more rained down on the Agadon. They drew their weapons and shot back, then broke ranks and scattered, running away from Bogle and Abdu’s position.

Rivkah raced down a hill and into a canyon, calling over her shoulder. “Let’s go, you two. Move it.” She glanced back at her friends hoping they’d heard her, the Agadon gun still in her hand.

Bogle and Abdu pelted after her, trying to catch up.

The Agadon, on the other hand, were concentrating all their fire-power on the Kelhoon. Good thing, too. It got the Agadon and the Kelhoon off their backs. Both races were fighting over the same bounty—Rivkah and her little team here, Abdu and Bogle.

Putting more distance between them and these two dipshit races who wanted to capture them, Rivkah, Abdu and Bogle rushed alongside the rocky wall that rose a hundred feet above them.

Rivkah zeroed in on Slade, bringing up his energy signature on her internal radar. An energetic strand lit up in front of her, like a ribbon to its prize. Up ahead, the canyon split, the ribbon flowed down to the left.

“Follow me.” Rivkah pumped Chi into her legs and her breaths came slower, easier, her steps quicker. She pivoted in her run and followed the energetic ribbon that led to her nemesis. She pushed her legs faster and faster, the wind whizzing by her, the Chi heating her up.

She tensed and abruptly stopped, her boots skidding across the light snow and rock.

Abdu and Bogle stopped as well, not because they wanted to, but because they had to.

A dead end. Nothing but hundreds of feet of rock going straight up—exactly where the ribbon was headed.

Something tickled at the back of Rivkah’s neck. Someone was near and that someone didn’t have good intentions. A footstep crunched on gravel, though delicately, somewhere in the distance and wrapped around her senses—senses that her newly awakened powers had heightened, tenfold. The person was attempting to be quiet for a purpose—a negative purpose.

Rivkah glanced at Bogle’s and Abdu’s feet. They hadn’t moved. She gave a nod at her companions. They nodded back. With any luck, they had picked up on the weird energy or at least read her body language and knew something was amiss. They moved backwards, butting against the rock wall.

“Can you see anything?” Rivkah whispered. She pointed her gun at the lip of the canyon, waiting for whomever, or whatever, to show itself.

Abdu shook his head.

Bogle pointed at a lone tree overhanging the top of the ridge. “Right there. I see—”

A red-hot laser lit up the canyon, and zipped into Bogle’s chest. She gasped and clasped her arms to her bosom. She fell hard against the rock wall and slid down, slumping over.

A purple blast came from Abdu’s rifle, hitting the tree. A crack and the tree fell as if it had been sawn at its base. A Kelhoon stood where the tree had been, thrown off balance by the sudden exposure. He fumbled with his weapon.

Abdu took another aim, pulled the trigger. His bamboo rifle pressed back into his shoulder as the shot was true, hitting the Kelhoon and knocking him backward.

Rivkah rushed to Bogle’s side. She picked her up, blood seeping from Bogle’s chest and dripping to the ground. Rivkah turned to Abdu. “Climb.”

He nodded.

Rivkah wrapped her fingers around the chains crisscrossing his back, holding Bogle in the other arm.

“Where are we going?” asked Bogle. Her eyelids drooped. Her body went slack.

They didn’t have much time.

“Miracle man here is going to heal you once we get out of this jam. I’d have him do it here, but more dipwads with an appetite to kill are coming.” Like before, she could feel it: the violent rush of bloodthirsty predators who had her scent. They would never stop, never give up. They were going to have to kill the lot of them or find their way off Callisto to escape the carnage. One thing at a time. They had to get out of the canyon and save Bogle. Blood seeped through her fingers marking off the minutes Bogle had left to live, like a demonic hourglass.

Abdu placed one hand on the rock and then another, pulling him and Rivkah and Bogle up.

“Leave me,” said Bogle, her voice barely audible.

“Believe me,” replied Rivkah. “I wish I could.” They needed her. Rivkah needed her. The prophecies needed her, so Jaxx could rid this moon, and maybe the galaxy, of the Negative ETs. The Agadon could not be allowed to take over. Abdu hadn’t said much. There hadn’t been time. But what he had said was clear: if the Agadon prevailed, unending bloodshed and chaos would follow.

Plus, Bogle was growing on her. Annoying, yes. Talked too much, for sure. A pure-grade, 100% weirdo, no doubt. But Bogle was handy, full of courage, and kept up with Rivkah. And there wasn’t anything wrong with that.

“Can you move faster, Abdu? I don’t think she’ll make it.”

Abdu grabbed the next rock and positioned his foot on a small outcropping, then pulled himself up the wall even further. “Almost half way there.”

An explosion sounded somewhere in the canyon. A Leaping Lizard—a Kelhoon starfighter—zoomed upward. A ball of smoke followed in its wake. It had been on a bombing mission.

A dozen missiles blasted from the source of the smoke and hit the Kelhoon Leaping Lizard’s rear ion drives. The starfighter screeched and corkscrewed, imploding seconds later in a cloud of fire and debris.

The ground shook as a pound echoed across the gorge. An Agadon mech turned a corner, exposing itself, and coming into full view. It raised its arm and a cannon popped up from the forearm, rotated, targeted Rivkah and her friends, then glowed like hot coal.

Wapooo!

An ion expelled from its muzzle, heading Rivkah’s way. This was it. All the failures she had in life culminated to this point—death by rock climbing.

8

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Nearing East Rise, Callisto

Jaxx had to do this—had to give himself up for the benefit of all. If he didn’t, he and his friends would continually be chased by two unrelenting races—the Agadon and the Kelhoon. Running would get him nowhere and farther away from fulfilling the prophecy, especially the part where he was to convince the Kelhoon to take his side against these blue A/I demons. And he wasn’t going to rope in any one of his friends in the process.

“Fox,” yelled Jaxx. “I’m turning myself in.” He unstrapped his phaser, pointing it at Taz.

Taz grunted, looking up at the Kelhoon, then back at Jaxx, perhaps computing his options. After a few beats, it became clear Taz was going to stay put and do nothing.

Zara squeezed Jaxx’s shoulder, her voice low and urgent. “You’re doing no such thing. We work as a team. We can escape this.”

“That’s what I’m intending,” responded Jaxx, continuing to glare up at Fox. “In fact, I’m intending to end this all for good.”

“We must go, Jaxx,” cried Zara. “In order to fulfill the prophecy, we must do it together. You can’t do it alone.”

“Don’t move, Jaxx,” growled Fox from atop the rocky crest. He gestured to several Kelhoon troops. They nodded and jogged out of view.

Jaxx figured they were heading down to put him and his buddies in energetic cuffs. What they’d do to Tazz, he didn’t know. Hopefully they’d experiment on the guy, find a detonation switch in his CPU that blew every Agadon to fragments the size of computer chips. Dream on, he thought. Nothing is that easy.

“Naze watashitachiha jibun jishin ni kawatte imasu ka?” asked Kiyo-zan, his cape blowing in the wind, his weapon ready.

Good. He was alive, and now standing.

“We are not turning ourselves in, Kiyo-zan. I am turning myself in.” Jaxx tapped his wrist. “Get your shield ready. On my mark, cover yourself and Zara.”

“Are you fleeing?” Taz laughed, resting his hand on his holstered gun. “You cowards.”

“Cowards?” An image of Taz escaping from Abdu back on planet Taiyo entered his mind. Abdu had held Taz at bay and, when the chips were down, Taz had turned tail and run. “We are no more a coward than you.” Jaxx smiled. A pricking sensation at the base of his skull told him there were more than just Kelhoon lizard slime in the area. The Agadon were near as well. “When did you call more of your friends?”

“Very perceptive, Jaxx. Yes, I called them a few minutes ago. They’re around, waiting for my orders. And…”

The Kelhoon that Fox had ordered down into the canyon rounded the bend.

Taz continued, though speaking to his team. “Eg, eg unit sug-nine, commence attack.”

Jaxx pushed Zara behind Kiyo-zan. “Don’t let her go.”

Zara shoved Kiyo-zan away. “Rethink your actions, Jaxx. Be wise. Two heads are better than one.”

“Go, find Rivkah and the others,” ordered Jaxx.

Zara whipped her tail, anger spreading across her face. “Our job is to keep you alive, not the other way around, peach-fuzz.”

“Your job is to keep me alive until I give my life for Callisto and the rest of the galaxy. That’s fine, but you mentioned another prophecy which indicates we must turn the Kelhoon to our side, if we’re going to win the war against evil. And, that’s what I’ll be attempting. Otherwise, we won’t fulfill any prophecy.”

Zara gritted her teeth. “Yes, but do it with us, not by yourself. This lone path will only lead to misery.”

Jaxx gave Kiyo-zan a look, and the Taiyonian warrior gave a slight bow. He stepped in front of Zara and lifted his wrist.

Shooooooz!

A shield materialized from Kiyo-zan’s arm bracelet.

Zzzzshwop! Zzzzshwop!

Agadon soldiers in full armor, huge rifles mounted on their shoulders, rushed up the canyon, ion chargers blazing. The blasts ripped apart the edge of the ridge, dropping rocks the size of bricks to the canyon floor. The Agadon were a ways away, but with their speed they’d be swarming Jaxx’s position soon enough.

Ion charges rocketed over Jaxx’s head. The portion of the ridge where Fox stood erupted, rock splintered outward. Several Kelhoon plummeted, screaming, to their deaths.

Fox, that cunning bastard, leaped back just in time and disappeared beyond the cliff’s lip.

The Kelhoon had retreated to a safe distance, but that didn’t slow their assault on the Agadon. Ion fire rained down, riddling the enemy as they pressed forward. Jaxx grinned. Though he’d done nothing to make it happen, the Kelhoon were already on his side.

The battle raged all around them, giving Zara and Kiyo-zan enough cover to escape down a ravine. Kiyo-zan’s shield kept them safe from any errant shots. Zara dug her feet into the ground, trying to stall Kiyo-zan and get to Jaxx, but Kiyo-zan kept her moving.

Jaxx needed to be captured by the Kelhoon, and quickly. First, he had to get away from Taz. He pulled his gun close and slid along the side of the wall.

“No, you don’t,” said Taz, slamming Jaxx in the side with the butt of his weapon.

Jaxx absorbed the blow, grabbed Taz’s arm, and spun away, forcing Taz toward him. He let loose with an overhand punch, knocking Taz to the ground. He twisted around. Agadon were bearing down on them. He couldn’t stand and fight, not with those odds.

He turned and dashed toward the hill that led up to the gorge’s upper ridge, where the Kelhoon were busy popping shots off at the mass of oncoming Agadon warriors. He reached the base of a hill.

He ran with all his might, his feet sinking into the heavy snow. The Chi activated, this time without his conscious doing, and bounded him faster up the hill, taking long strides, placing each footstep perfectly on the ground like a snow leopard after its prey. Reaching the top, he found a throng of Kelhoon waiting for him, guns drawn.

He dropped his weapon and raised his hands.

A Kelhoon walked forward. The slitted pupils in the center of his eyes contracted. “Wokjaha Kaja.”

Jaxx put his hands out. The Kelhoon soldier reached behind his back, grabbing something from his satchel that was clipped to his belt. He pulled out two gold cuffs and slapped them on Jaxx’s wrists. The cuffs vibrated and an energetic chord shot out of each inner cuff, connecting together.

“Welcome, brother.”

Jaxx craned his neck, seeing his brother, Richard Fox, behind a gang of Kelhoon, a smirk on his face, a hateful gleam in his eyes.

9

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

“They’re getting through the lines,” yelled a Marine running past Drew, alarms in the city blaring, making it very difficult to hear anything but the whining sounds.

Drew jumped to the ground, his eyes wide, his heart pumping. “What lines? Where are the lines?”

Bratatatatatat ratatatatat! Bratatatatatat ratatatatat!

Machine guns echoed at the edge of the city. People ran from bar or store to God-knows-where…probably to their homes. Drew, on the other hand, was out of luck. He had no home to go to.

“What are you doing? Get over here.” Megan waved him over to her bar.

Drew dashed her way.

Her face changed from fear to confusion. Her frown deepened and her forehead crinkled. “What are you doing?”

“You were calling for me to come over,” responded Drew, out of breath, his face flushed red.

She glanced at his gun and shook her head. “No. Not you. I was calling him.”

Drew looked over his shoulder. An older, bigger man ran in his direction. Drew glanced back at Megan, giving her a hopeful gaze.

She sighed, her breath forced, her hand pointing inside and to the back of the bar. “Alright… get your butt in there.” She opened the door wider, letting her friend barrel in, practically bulling Drew over.

“Go, go.” Megan pushed both Drew and her friend forward.

Drew followed the big man down the bar’s basement stairs. They ducked as they turned a corner down the staircase, reaching another set of stairs.

Cold, damp air hit him bringing with it the unmistakable stench of mildew. He heard a door shut, then a lock latch. For a second, everything was pitch dark, but Megan clicked on the bare bulb that hung overhead then pulled a rifle from the gun rack. She threw the rifle to her friend, who caught it, cocked it and wiped the sweat pouring off his face.

“Drew? Do you know how to use that gun? Because you’re holding it like a rookie,” said Megan.

Drew fidgeted with the gun, shaking his head. “I’m a novice.”

A static sound went through Drew’s ears. “You do as I say with that gun and everything will be fine,” came Drew’s mother. The static faded away.

Damn. There she was again.

Megan gestured to her friend. “Drew, meet Carl, Carl meet Drew.”

Drew’s face whitened. Was it the Carl? How had he missed that? He took a longer look at the guy, nodding his head in disaster. Of course, it was. “Hi, Carl. I think we’ve met.” He didn’t attempt any type of hand shake. The guy could rip him a new asshole if he wanted.

“You’re nice to me now, eh?” grumbled Carl, wiping more sweat off his face.

“From what I remember, you bumped into me earlier today, not the other way around.”

Carl took a step forward, fury in his eyes. The basement shook and dust fell from the ceiling. They all ducked, waiting for the place to come crashing down on their heads.

“Did they break through the city’s shield?” asked Drew.

“I don’t know.” Megan went to a closet. She pulled down a carton of bullets and handed them to Carl. He put his hand on it, but Megan held the carton tightly, forcing him to look at her. “You don’t get these until you play nice with our visitor. Understand?”

Carl bit his lip, considering his options. A dull explosion hit somewhere in the city and the basement shook a second time. He grabbed the bullets. “Got it.”

Megan pulled out a rifle, lifted the rifle’s bolt handle and pulled it to the rear.

Click!

She inserted a bullet and pressed it down with her thumb. Then another bullet, and another. She pushed the bolt handle forward.

Click!

She rotated the bolt handle down, producing another click.

She shut the closet and leaned against it. She tilted her head at Drew’s gun. “What kind of weapon is that?”

Drew rubbed the bottom of the magazine with his palm. “It’s a phaser. A Marine gave it to me.”

She scoffed. “The Marines have been using this town as a military experiment. We were a peaceful city until those bastards showed up after our own asshole politicians decided to up and fly to the stars.”

“They’re using this place as an experiment?” asked Drew.

“A few weeks after the government took themselves off planet in those rocket ships, we were setting up our own government, our own peaceful, beautiful place. It was crazy at first. The place filled up with a bunch of militia types and hippies, but they were able to adjust. It was a get-along kinda town. Then a Marine showed up, then another, as if surveying the area. They took over this place, set up their own government with restrictions, rations, and curfews and to top it off, they rolled out this massive shield and some crazy-ass weapons. Weapons even our military vets had never heard of before.” She shrugged. “Then, what do you know? Massive ships come in about a week later dropping bombs on the shield. Like-for-like energy, as they say.”

“Are you saying they attracted the ET’s?” asked Drew, jerking back as another explosion rocked the building.

“Yes. We were fine before the Marine’s showed up. They practically put a homing beacon on us,” said Carl. He grunted, shifting in his stance, clearly frustrated. “And that little girl. The gifted one? It’s her doing. They are attracted to her. I guarantee it. Once we get out of here, she’s got my first trigger-happy shot.”

The words hit Drew like a punch to the chest. Killing Mya wasn’t going to happen on his watch. Mya was an innocent, sweet young girl with no ill-will toward anyone. She’d protected the city with her weird-ass mutant powers. “They started coming before the girl was even here, Carl. Hell, when we landed in the helicopters, the ET’s were practically on top of Whitefish.”

Carl pointed his rifle at Drew. “You arrived with her?”

Drew quickly shook his head no. It was a lie, but if it meant saving his own skin, sure he was gonna veer from the truth. “I meant to say I saw her land. And those ET’s have been screwing shit up all over the world, not just here.” Drew wanted Carl’s mind on something other than Mya.

“Carl, stop being an ass. If you don’t, I’ll shove this rifle straight up your ass. Understand?” Megan leaned against a wall, her rifle between her crossed arms, her eyes like guns about to go off in Carl’s face. “And Drew—”

The alarms turned off. Suddenly and strangely. Did all the power in the city go off? One look at the still lit light bulb answered his question, telling him a flat, no. Were the alarms destroyed somehow?

Someone rapped on their basement door.

They crouched, aiming their weapons at the door.

Megan shook her head and put her fingers to her lips.

Another knock. “This is Lieutenant Sawyer of the United States Marine Corps. We know you’re in there and we need you to open up.”

Carl thrust his rifle forward, taking a few steps toward the door. “You open that door and we’ll—”

Megan pushed Carl’s rifle down. “Don’t be a nut.” She walked over and placed her hand on the lock, unlatched it, then opened the door.

A young, handsome man stood in Marine Corp garb. He took his hat off and tucked it under his armpit like they used to in old war movies. “We have to leave.” Sawyers eyes moved from Megan to Drew. “We have a ship waiting for you.”

“For me?” asked Drew.

“No, for all of you. We’re losing the city. We have to get out as many people we as we can.”

There was something odd with the way this guy talked. His mouth exaggerated every word, and why the hell wasn’t he out of breath, worried, or even seeming to be in a hurry? The idea that he was trying too hard at being human flashed across Drew’s mind.

Sawyer changed his demeanor, panting and rushing his words.

Too creepy. It was like the guy had read his mind.

“Yes, yes. We have to go. Time is of the essence.” The Marine glanced at his watch. “We’re leaving in three minutes.” He turned and strode up the steps. Each stride was perfectly measured. Nothing about his demeanor said he was in a panic. Drew’s antennae were on high alert.

“Let’s go, guys,” said Carl. He bounded up the stairs.

Megan gave Drew a look. If he was reading her correctly, she had the same misgivings as him. Drew wanted to ask his mom if this guy was someone to trust, but the two of them followed him upstairs anyway.

Kackow!

A blast next to the bar rocked the building. Drew fell against the wall and Megan fell against him. She took a step back and slipped. Drew caught her in one arm and for a moment, they looked deeply into each other’s eyes. Megan had human eyes, emotions, love, fear, and everything in between.

Drew flashed back to his first sighting of the Marine. Lieutenant Sawyer’s were not human. They held no emotion, no realness to them.

Drew let go of Megan and dashed after Carl. “Carl, wait!”

Just behind Carl, Drew reached passed him and grabbed Sawyer’s arm. He just needed to look him in the eye one more time. Just to make sure that his gut wasn’t off.

Drew gasped.

The Marine’s arm transformed into a purple, fat-looking, alien arm, then immediately shape-shifted back into a human arm.

What the hell?

Drew pulled Carl back toward the basement door. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wanted to warn Carl, but the words wouldn’t come.

Carl pushed Drew off of him. “What the hell, man?”

Sawyer turned. “Is there a problem?” His features transformed for a moment, revealing large, almond-shaped eyes, bright purple skin, and a wide face. Again, it shape-shifted back to human.

Carl lifted his rifle, aimed, and took a shot at the shape-shifting Marine. The gun blasted, pushing an already unstable Carl into Drew. Carl’s head smashed against Drew’s forehead. Drew put his hand up to grab the railing, but was too late. He was off his feet and falling toward the bottom of the stairs.

First, his butt hit, then his back, and lastly, his head cracked on the concrete floor.

Carl came crashing down on top of him.

Drew’s breath was knocked out of him and his gun went flailing. He pushed Carl off and Carl rolled into the basement, holding his stomach.

Megan yanked Drew all the way into the basement, his heels dragging, and slammed the door shut, locking it.

Drew, holding his side, gasping for breath, leaned over in a stoop, eyeing Carl, his head aching.

Carl was breathing heavily, his eyes wide. “What in the name of Jupiter was that?”

Drew and Megan took a step back.

Carl’s hands, arms, and chest were covered in blood. Purple blood.

10

J-Quadrant, Solar System - South of East Rise, Callisto

The Agadon combat-mech aimed and its forearm cannon sent forth an ion burst, headed right for Rivkah. If it hit, Abdu and Bogle would turn into a pile of fiery dust along with her.

Her idea to climb this rock wall on the back of a lion, with a dying woman in her arms, was a dumb idea, and her failure was going to take the lives of her two friends.

Abdu crouched in his climb, his toes curling around two small rocks that jutted out of the cliff wall. He roared like the lion he was, and leaped upward. The wall shuddered as the ion charge pounded into the rockface. It missed its mark, but sent shards of rocky shrapnel toward the trio.

“Hurry,” yelled Rivkah.

“Two more leaps and we’re above the lip,” responded Abdu.

Rivkah held Bogle with one arm, clutching Abdu’s chains that crisscrossed his torso with her other. If it wasn’t for the Chi that Rivkah had running through her body, this feat alone would be beyond impossible.

Abdu crouched a second time and jumped upward. He snagged the jutting rocks above him.

Wapooo!

Another burst of fury was heading their way.

Rivkah shot a look over her shoulder, dreading the inevitable.

Abdu pushed off, the wind whipping through his mane. They landed just over the lip of the cliff as another explosion cracked across the rock wall. Abdu lost his balance, sending Rivkah and Bogle sliding across the ground.

Rivkah stopped her slide, pressing her hands on the snowy terrain. She spun around, ready to get up.

Abdu was already on one knee, eyeing the combat-mech through his scope. He held steady.

Rivkah shook her head, her lips pursed, her eyes narrowed. They needed to run, but Abdu wasn’t moving, wasn’t budging an inch.

“We have to get out of here,” screamed Rivkah, rushing toward Abdu.

Abdu put a hand up and let out a mew.

A strong force pushed Rivkah away and onto her back. She skidded across the snow-covered rocks. “What the…” She wiped her hands together, patting the snow off her palms, and quickly got to her feet.

The Agadon mech raised its arm, targeting Abdu’s position.

Abdu’s bamboo rifle recoiled against his shoulder and a purple burst shot forward, zipping into the Agadon mech’s cannon. The cannon sparkled, electricity dancing around the muzzle in a haze of wild blues and purples, then imploded, tearing the mech’s arm in half. Another explosion blasted outward on the mech’s upper arm, a chain reaction that Abdu nodded at, almost as if expecting it to happen.

The mech dropped to its knees, then stumbled forward—shutting down. The thing was out of commission, smoking like a chimney.

Abdu strapped his rifle over his back, then raced over to Bogle. She was on the ground, unconscious, her body pale—almost white.

He bent down and touched her forehead, his eyes heavy with unmistakable melancholy. “She has passed to the next world.”

Rivkah stiffened. “She’s dead?”

Abdu nodded and slid his fingers down Bogle’s eyelids, shutting them. “The prophecy is doomed.”

Another Agadon combat-mech’s foot rocked the ground. Abdu dashed toward Rivkah. “We must push forward if we want to live.”

“We can’t just leave Bogle there. We have to bury her, or…do something.” Muscles tensed up, her eyes clouding with worry. “We’ve failed everyone.” She swallowed, closing her eyes, willing Bogle to get up and run. She opened her eyes. Bogle lay there, breathless. Dead.

Abdu grasped Rivkah’s forearm. “Unless you wish to be buried as well, we need to go.” His purple eyes flashed, penetrating deep into her own.

A vibration went through her. She knew, without needing to ask, that the energy was from Abdu. For the first time, Rivkah felt a high wisdom coming from him and into her like a caring, trusting father to his daughter. Maybe this is what family was like—loving and protective. He didn’t want her. He didn’t need her. He loved her for who she was, not for what she looked like or what her body could offer him. He cared for her safety, more so than some damn prophecy.

But how did she know this by a single look? She shook her head. She could think on it later. She needed to focus. She had a mission. She couldn’t lose sight of it, not even if Bogle was dead and Abdu was beaming unconditional love at her. She needed to concentrate all her energy on saving the children who were being enslaved by the Kelhoon. That was her sole purpose. Nothing else mattered. She needed to halt her father’s effort to bring more slaves to Callisto and use them as cattle, killing of the weak and sickly kids who didn’t make the cut. Her father’s effort? She paused, correcting her thoughts. No, Colonel Slade’s effort. She smiled at her Leonian friend. “If the prophecy is off, I still have something of importance I need to do. Will you join me, Abdu?”

Abdu looked over his shoulder. An Agadon mech was headed for his fallen comrade. “Yes.”

She nodded and closed her eyes. Her vision expanded and she saw his trail—Slade’s energy signature. It was an etheric ribbon, flowing in the wind, moving across hills and to the walled city.

It was due south from her position. She took a step forward. “Thank you, Abdu.”

11

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

Slade opened the barn door of the warehouse—a warehouse full of child slaves. Cinnamon essential oils wafted on the breeze. He drank in the delightful aroma. The cinnamon, mixed with lemon oils, kept the children healthy, according to the Kelhoon factory-farm workers he employed. An employment that would end as soon as he hired some humans. Humans were much easier to look at.

A Kelhoon raised his arm, a bullwhip in his hand, the zap of electric charges dropping off the whip and sizzling the floor. A child cowered before the Kelhoon, her hands over her face, crying for her mommy.

The kids were housed in small shacks, though they had access to the walkways outside their temporary housing. The kids whimpered and sobbed, huddling up against their shack walls in a feeble attempt to touch one another through the slats. A young boy—no more than six years old—slouched out one of the little houses, rubbing his tummy, his face contorted in fear. He shuffled across the slated ground and reached into a long bin full of seeds and nuts. He took two handfuls and placed them in his mouth. He chewed, taking a glance at Slade, then giving a double-look.

Hope filled the kid’s eyes, as if Slade had come to rescue him, to take him back into his parent’s loving arms.

Damn. This was too hard for even Slade to handle. He turned on his heels, nodded at the Kelhoon guards next to the door, and walked back outside. He slammed the warehouse door shut, and for a moment, stared at the sky. How was President Craig Martelle going to stomach this? The guy had his own children. He’d soon find compassion and empathy for these slaves, because he had empathy and compassion for his own children.

That’s how regular people worked, apparently.

That would screw up Slade’s agenda.

“Colonel,” came Craig’s voice.

Slade spun around, folding his hands across his chest.

Craig was by himself, crisp and clean, in a suit and tie.

“Where are your kids?”

Craig thumbed over his shoulder. “Back at the castle in the west wing. They—” Craig paused, raising one brow. “Are you alright? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Slade shrugged. The ghost he’d seen was the president. This was not the time or place for Craig to show up. “Why are you here?”

Craig stood straighter, more presidential. He gave a curt stare. Slade had seen it before. Craig expected people to bow and scrape and do as they were told. He was not accustomed to answering questions.

“To see the operation. Why else would I be here?”

Slade grabbed Craig’s arm and led him away from the warehouse. “You can’t visit the slaves now. The Kelhoon are training them. It’s not for your eyes.”

Craig stood his ground. “I need to see them in order for me to understand how this process of factory-farming humans works. I need to see every process.” He cocked his head. “I’m the president, Slade. I can haul your ass to another planet if I so choose. Let go of my arm.”

Slade didn’t realize how hard he was grasping the president’s forearm. He let go and stared down at his feet. He’d act the submissive part for a while, because no matter what, he couldn’t let Craig see the kids until he felt Craig had toughened up. Or seen how lucrative the slave trade was going to be for the two of them. Perhaps the latter would secure the former. Nothing like money to make you avert your gaze from something unpalatable. “I’m sorry, Mr. President. I can’t let you see them today. But I have something to show you that will blow your mind.”

“I’m going in there, Slade.” Craig stormed toward the warehouse doors.

“Stop.” Slade hurried around Craig and stepped in front of his path, blocking him. “I’m serious. What I’m going to show you is the real reason we’re here. It’s not because of slaves or factory-farming, it’s because of what I’m going to show you down there.” He pointed to the ground. Even though there was a great discovery under their feet, Slade was spewing complete bullshit. They were here for factory farming. They were here for a cut in the galactic slave trade. They were not here for what was down there. Slade couldn’t allow the president to change his mind on the slave trade and factory farming operation. What the president would see once he walked through the warehouse doors would change his mind so fast, Slade couldn’t let him go in there.

Craig puffed out his chest, eyeing Slade like a father to a son. “Don’t screw with me anymore, Slade. No more.”

Slade held his gaze. He couldn’t be the first one to blink.

Craig let out an exasperated sigh and dropped his shoulders in defeat. “You have my attention. What’s more important than our operation?”

Slade nodded—a lying nod. “Follow me.”

They walked down an empty street. There were no cars, no buses, no pedestrians, but there were impressive buildings, towering above them. Apart from the absence of all traffic, the place was a dead ringer for a New York street.

Craig was talking, none of it important. Slade zoned him out. If Craig hadn’t been the damn president, he’d have slit the guy’s throat just for breathing and threatening his new farm. However, he needed the president. The Kelhoon were complete suckers for status and the Prez was the highest-ranking official around.

They walked up a flight of cemented steps. They reminded Slade of the steps at the Lincoln Memorial in the United States capital. Slade opened a large, arched door at the building’s entrance. They stepped into a lobby fancied with granite tile floors and marble walls and ceilings.

Craig flashed an angry eye at Slade. “This isn’t under the ground.” His temper began to rise.

“Trust me.” Slade clicked the elevator’s down arrow. “You’ll like it.”

Craig’s face flushed red. “Another bullshit secret you haven’t told me about.”

The doors dinged open and Slade gestured for Craig to walk inside.

Craig put his foot against one of the doors, keeping the elevator door open. “I am sick of your bullshit secrets. You will tell me what’s down there. Now.”

“Again, trust me,” said Slade. “You will want to see this with your own eyes.”

Craig shook his head. “Last chance, Slade. You tell me what I want to know or I’ll have you demoted so fast, your head will spin off its axis.”

“Below is Callisto’s central pyramid. Things are happening down there and inside that pyramid that, like I said, will blow your mind.”

12

J-Quadrant, Solar System - East Rise, Callisto

A Kelhoon soldier pulled Jaxx’s arm, in attempt to get him out of his hut-like prison. The dome was barely big enough for the two of them to stand, but the Kelhoon muscled in close, heaving at Jaxx to get him out of his cell and into the main hall, where his cohorts were doing a bustling trade in Kelhoon Assholishness, marching prisoners from one end of the room to the other, while shoving and prodding and cussing at them.

Jaxx didn’t budge, his Chi running on full strength. It’d take a handful of elephants to move him. Jaxx gazed down at his hands. The energetic cuffs weren’t something he’d experienced before. It singed the hairs on his wrists, but hovered a few centimeters off his skin even when he moved.

The Kelhoon wrapped his arms around Jaxx and went to body-slam him.

The Chi running through Jaxx strengthened his legs, rooting him more in place. “I’m not moving until I see the one in charge. We need to ta—” Jaxx grunted in pain and cringed, his teeth clattering together. The cuffs wrapped tightly around his wrists, and stung him with a thousand volts of electricity. Jaxx fell to his knees, his body shaking and spasming.

The cuffs loosened, moving back to their original position a few centimeters above his skin.

Jaxx shook his head. “Is that the best you got?”

The Kelhoon lifted the butt of his rifle and slammed it across Jaxx’s cheek.

Jaxx fell to the side and out of the hut-like cell, the Chi diminishing. “Now, that was an asshole move.” Jaxx jumped to his feet, his eyes nearly burning a hole through the Kelhoon warrior. Jaxx thrust his arms forward, releasing a wave of energy right at his captor’s solar plexus.

The Kelhoon’s head whipped back and he tumbled across the cold floor.

“Get your leader. And don’t worry, I’ll let myself back in the cell.”

The Kelhoon warrior backpedaled on the ground, then scrambled to his feet. He eyed Jaxx for a moment and made a few clicking sounds in his throat. “Goowajka.” He slapped his rifle against his chest and walked away from Jaxx.

Jaxx dipped his head and yelled over his shoulder, “Tell el-presidente, or whatever the hell you call the head honcho, that I would also like to speak with my brother. You know, the other ugly, white pale guy that looks a little like me?”

The Kelhoon didn’t look back or respond. He headed for a horde of Atlantean warriors in chains. Many were bleeding and more were distraught, their heads down in defeat. They were being led out through the doors at the far end of the hall. Jaxx didn’t know if it was for slaughter or for the Kelhoon’s lucrative slave trade.

Jaxx took a stride forward, ready to bash the heads of all the Kelhoon soldiers leading the Atlanteans to their inevitable doom. But he couldn’t intervene. It was one man against a dozen, heavily-armed Kelhoon. In any case, he had a mission that was more important than even himself. “Damn Kelhoon pricks.” Swallowing his heart back down his throat, he glanced back at his domed prison. Didn’t look like much. The roof was metallic and the floor plain cement.

Zzzzzzzzzmmmmph!

He thought too soon.

A cage of fizzing, blue electric fire bars surrounded him. His newest jail sizzled, sending steam wafting toward the ceiling as the bar’s flaming energy hit Callisto’s cold air. The bars closed in on him, forcing him back into his hut. No sooner had he crossed the threshold, the hut’s door clanked closed and locked, plunging him into darkness. He turned. It was just Jaxx, this cage, and empty space all around. Not a Kelhoon warrior hell-bent on enslaving his race to kingdom come was in sight.

But, really, what race was he thinking to protect? He was a mix of Human and Atlantean, a DNA cocktail that granted him powers, the likes of which he’d only seen in comic books.

Powers.

He brought up his Chi, glad he was doing this mission alone, not putting Zara, Kiyo-zan, or anyone else in harm’s way. He figured he’d convince the Kelhoon leader to join him in the fight against the Agadon

“I don’t think so, brother.” A chair squeaked across the floor as someone stood.

Jaxx jumped. He hadn’t seen or heard or felt another presence in his cell.

His brother, Fox, stepped from the darkness, his eyes cold, his face expressionless. “You’re not convincing Kajka Okbak of anything. And if you bring up your Chi, then I’ll bring up mine. The best we’ll get out of it is neutralizing each other.” Fox came up to the bars, baring his teeth.

“You may be powerful, Fox, but you don’t know these powers like I do.”

Fox smirked, pacing around the energetic cage. “I’m pretty powerful myself. I’ll knock any attempt of your escape out of the park. You try to fizz out those cuffs, I’ll fizz out your brain.”

Then Jaxx saw it—a device behind Fox’s ear. Jaxx closed his eyes. His vision expanded and through his third eye, he zoomed in on the device. He examined it, went through it like a needle through water, and watched the device’s algorithms and thought forms penetrate Fox’s mind. This wasn’t just a translation device or communication unit, it was a mind-control device.

“If you’re so powerful, why do you have a Kelhoon device behind your ear?”

Fox touched the oval implant behind his ear, then dropped his hand by his side. “It’s for me to better serve Kajka Okbak, the prime chieftain of the Kelhoon Liberation Force.”

Jaxx shuddered when hearing Fox’s last comment. “So, that’s what they’re calling it? Is this Kelhoon Liberation Force liberating Atlanteans on Callisto from…the Atlanteans on Callisto?”

Fox continued to pace. “Liberating the galaxy of senseless, un-needed pests, like you and these measly Atlantean scum.”

“The Kelhoon farm us, you know? They eat us, remember? They also enslave us for their own bidding. Or, has that device behind your ear erased those truths?”

“You’ll soon be wearing one, brother.”

The door opened. A Kelhoon stood at the entrance, shadowed from Jupiter’s pink hues beaming through the doorway.

A loud voice boomed, “Kajka Okbak, zanja shakanka.”

Jaxx bowed. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Prime Chieftain.”

Okbak gathered himself, shaking his shoulders as he entered Jaxx’s prison cell. The door slammed behind him. He snapped his fingers and the walls of the dome shot out in all directions, expanding to fill the hall beyond. He waved his hand over a panel and the ceiling exploded in a hail of bright white light, banishing the darkness. He grinned, dug into a satchel clipped to his belt, and pulled out an oval device. He held it up between his finger and thumb. It was identical to the device behind Fox’s ear.

Okbak relaxed his fingers around it, stepped back, and watched it hover between the bars and move toward Jaxx.

“I don’t think so, Okbak.” Jaxx went to light it on fire with his Chi, but grunted in pain instead. He fell to the floor, his eyes rolling back in his head, shaking from the electricity slicing into his arms.

The cuffs had gripped his wrists like a snake wrapping around its victim.

Jaxx brought up his Chi, set his intention on shorting out the cuffs, and sent the powerful universal energy toward his hands. The cuffs fizzled and electricity sparked outward. He threw his hands away from each other, breaking the link between his wrists. He heaved a few deep breaths, then slowly brought his eyes to Okbak. He took several steps forward, his nose only a few inches from an energetic bar. “You can either hear what I have to say, or die in the process of ignoring me. It’s your choice. If you force me to turn this energy on you, I will not hesitate.”

Okbak narrowed his eyes, his pupil slits contracted and expanded a few times. He dropped his hand on the hilt of his gun holstered at his side. The device hovering next to Jaxx dropped and split in two.

Okbak walked around the cage and sat in Fox’s seat. Fox stood next to him. “Oomja kanjaj.”

“He says to enlighten him,” said Fox.

Jaxx closed his eyes, projecting a thought packet to Okbak’s mind.

Okbak jerked, and his scaly eyelids shut. He twitched and leaned forward as if watching an intense ball game—or whatever entertainment a Kelhoon might enjoy.

Jaxx sent a moving picture, much like a movie, of a thunderous ship coming through the atmosphere. It was the Agadon race, the race that had already made its way to Callisto’s surface. The atmosphere and the desert-like planet that Jaxx was showing Okbak, however, was from one of Okbak’s planets occupied by his Kelhoon race.

Then, crafts in the thousands entered his world.

Okbak gasped. He reared back in his seat, almost as if catching his breath. “Gooja bakjama.” He stood, grunted, and stomped to the door. He put his green, lizard fingers on the door’s handle and glanced at Jaxx. “Agadon, myfanka janja.” He opened the door and walked out. The door slammed shut, shaking the floors and walls as they shrunk back to their original size.

“Don’t worry, brother. He won’t kill you just yet,” said Fox. “He knows you’re lying about the Agadon. He knows they won’t be as much of a headache as you think.”

“That’s what he said to me?”

Fox shook his head. “No, he said you’re lying.”

“And what did he say when he was at the door?”

Fox gave a hearty laugh. “Okbak said he is going to convince the Agadon to join his side.”

“That’s not what he said,” responded Jaxx. Fox’s string of words was too long for Okbak’s two to three-word sentence.

“It was what he said. And from one brother to another, he has already set up a formal meeting with the Agadon. The Kelhoon and the Agadon will soon be running the galaxy together.” He walked to the door.

Jaxx pursed his lips and slammed his fist into his palm. “Look at me, Fox.”

Fox stopped and gazed into his brother’s eyes.

Jaxx reached out, throwing a wave of energy at Fox. This wave, however, was something special, a strike filled with Jaxx’s own consciousness, his own mind.

Fox put up his palm, easily stopping the Chi sent to him. “You’ve lost your touch, and so quickly.”

“Not really. It’s going through you now.”

“What’s going—” Fox put his hands over his ears and spun in a circle, his mouth open and eyes wide. The veins on his forehead and neck popped out. He yelped in pain and fell to his knees, and then to his back. He rolled on the ground, rocking back and forth. “What are you doing?”

“Just getting that device off your body.” He closed his eyes and rushed through Fox’s body, up his arm, to his shoulder, then to the area behind Fox’s ear. He merged with Fox, sharing his feelings, his thoughts, his skin.

Jaxx ran Fox’s fingertips together, and the sensation of skin against skin felt like his own, as if he was doing this inside his own body and not in Fox’s.

He went deeper into Fox’s psyche, pushing out the Kelhoon-induced fear throbbing from the oval device, and cleared the electro-magnetic impulse blocking Fox’s neural synapses.

He cleared it all out. Fox yelled in pain. Jaxx felt the stinging too, like hundreds of bees poking and prodding Fox’s brain.

Jaxx pushed onward, visualizing the prongs from the oval device sticking through Fox’s flesh. He pushed on the ends of the prongs with his energy, slipping the device off of Fox’s skin and onto the floor.

Jaxx jumped back into his body and opened his eyes. He took in a deep breath, filling his lungs. He bent over, his head spinning like a slow-moving top. He shook his head, doing his best to get his bearings about him.

When everything halted and his senses came back to full awareness, he stood erect.

Fox was on the floor as still as a sleeping baby.

“Fox?”

Fox blinked his eyes. “What?” His voice was tired, faint, and pissed off—like the Fox he knew.

“Get up and go. Find Rivkah.”

Fox stood, rubbing his head. He lost his balance and leaned against the wall. “Where the hell am I?”

“You were being mind-controlled by the Kelhoon.”

He glared at Jaxx. “You’re being mind-controlled if you think they could ever do something like that to me.” He squinted. “Why are you in a cage?” He looked around, clearly disoriented.

“Fox, I need you to listen to me.”

Fox stumbled like a drunk man, barely managing to stay on his feet.

“Go find Rivkah. But the moment you leave this makeshift jail cell, I need you to act like you’re still controlled by that Kelhoon device.”

“How?” Fox waived his arms around, catching himself from toppling over. “Was I drugged? What’s going on with me?”

“Trust me. Leave this place and sneak out of this Kelhoon base. In the meantime, I’ve got to talk with Kajka Okbak some more.”

“Who?” Fox thought for a moment. “The Kelhoon leader? Are you out of your gourd?” Fox leaned against a wall and slid down it, arms crossed at his stomach. He yawned. “You’re dreaming.” He shook his head, yawning again. “You’re pulling my chain. We’re not in a Kelhoon base.”

The door clicked and creaked as it slowly opened. A Kelhoon with a rifle made his way in. Fox’s eyes went wide and he stood, confusion turning into anger. His energy signature said he wanted to pummel every inch of the Kelhoon warrior.

“Fox, no, I won’t tell you where Rivkah is,” said Jaxx. “I’m not going to turn against the Atlanteans or the Humans. You can’t force me.”

Fox unholstered his phaser and aimed it at Jaxx. He clenched his jaw and flexed his neck, exaggerating his next words. “What the hell is going on, Jaxx? Whose side are you really on?”

13

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

Carl lay on his back with his hands in front of his face. Purple blood dripped from his shaking fingers and to his chest. “What’s all over me?” He was wide-eyed, helpless, like a scared child.

Drew sat on the cement floor, looking at the locked door, grateful that it was indeed locked. But truly, if someone wanted to get inside this basement room, what good would a lock do? Nothing.

He stared at Carl, watching the purple liquid drip all over the big guy. “It’s blood, Carl.” Drew rubbed the back of his head, pained from the fall down the stairs, topped off by Carl landing on him.

“Blood?” Carl’s lips quivered. “From what?”

Megan fetched a towel out of the closet and tossed it at Carl. “You just shot an officer, I think.”

Carl sat up, the purple liquid slipping off of his face, arms, and chest like goo. “That wasn’t a military man, Megan.” His face was stone cold. “Drew, did you see that thing…change?”

Drew nodded his head. He saw a military officer, or whatever the guy’s rank was, shape-shift into some type of alien Being, not once but twice. “We need a chair.” Drew grabbed the wooden chair from the corner. Maybe placing that on the inside door knob would make it that bit harder to break through the door. “No, screw that. Do you have cement bags? Anything to put in front of that door? If someone wants to get in here, the locks on the door won’t hold.”

Megan jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

Drew spotted bags of rice, beans, and flour lined on shelves against a far wall. Outside, the alarms blared. He’d been so busy ogling the alien, he hadn’t noticed that the alarms were back, louder than ever.

Megan nodded. “The alarms must have shorted out there for a while.”

Carl didn’t acknowledge them or the alarms. He was trapped in his own world of panic.

Drew fast-walked to a shelf, pulled off a bag of rice and carried it over to the door. Megan followed him. Drew dropped the bag at the base of the door and stopped. “Carl, we need your help. Move it, man.”

Carl sniffed the blood on his hands. “I’ve smelled human blood and this isn’t human blood.”

Drew bit back the urge to say something sarcastic. The man was in shock. The fact that the blood was purple seemed not to have landed.

Megan dropped a bag of beans on top of the rice in front of the door. She paced over to Carl and gave him a gentle kick. “Get up, Carl.”

Carl got up, cement dust sticking to his hands. He used the rag and wiped it off. “I bet that’s what Mya is…an alien.” His face was emotionless, his mouth slightly gaped. “We have to kill her.”

Drew dropped another bag of rice in front of the door. He put his hands on his hips. “You have to what?”

Carl looked around. He couldn’t or didn’t want to make eye contact with either Drew or Megan. “I’ve smelled human blood before. My dad’s. It was a hunting accident.” He thought for a moment, his eyes blank, as if remembering that day. He shook his head and returned to the present. “I bet Mya’s blood smells like this purple blood. Her blood is probably purple too.”

Drew stiffened. “Where is your rifle, Carl?”

Carl pointed, his eyes dull. “Over there.”

Drew followed Carl’s pointed finger. No rifle.

He looked around, then eyed it lying near Carl’s feet. Drew walked over and quietly picked it up. He stepped back and aimed it at Carl. He cleared his throat. “Now, listen Carl. You touch a hair on Mya’s head and I’ll end your life. It’s that simple.”

Carl didn’t respond, too deep in whatever plagued his thoughts, his lips moving like he was reading something to himself.

Megan placed a bag of flour on top of the bag of rice. She strode over to Drew and pushed the rifle to the side and away from Carl. “He’s just in shock, Drew. He’s never killed a thing in his life but maybe an animal or two before the hunting accident. He hasn’t hunted since. And now he’s just killed some alien Being and it’s haunting him, I’m sure. Carl wouldn’t harm a child.”

Drew brought the gun back up and aimed it at Carl.

Megan put her hand on Drew’s shoulder. Her touch soothing and sensual. “Trust me, Drew.”

Drew lowered the gun. “He isn’t right in the head.”

“Not at the moment, but he’s usually as gentle as a bear.”

Carl wasn’t kind to Drew earlier in the day. “Bears aren’t gentle.”

“They can be.” Megan walked over to fetch another bag.

Carl pulled something out of his pocket and Drew lifted his rifle, then put it down a moment later when he saw it. Was that a cigarette?

It wasn’t. It was a joint.

Carl placed it between his lips and slid a cigarette lighter out of another pocket. He put his hand over the lighter as if he was outside in the wind. Carl took one big puff, sucking in Drew’s salvation, Drew’s everything.

“Do you have another joint?” asked Drew, forcing a smile, setting the butt of the rifle on the ground, leaning the barrel against the wall.

Carl hacked a few times and pulled out another joint. “Always better to smoke with another.” He handed the second blunt to Drew.

Drew put it to his lips, already smelling the marijuana pleasure. He leaned toward Carl, tapping the blunt between his lips, speaking through his teeth. “Fire me up, fella.”

Carl flicked his thumb down on the lighter’s spark wheel and held the flame in front of Drew. Drew sucked in, lighting the joint’s tip. He pulled back and took a deep hit, held it in for several seconds, and let it slowly trail out of his lungs. His muscles relaxed, and his brain stopped doing cartwheels, allowing Drew to descend into Stonerville, where he loved to visit.

“No worries, guys. I’ll just keep piling up these bags in front of this here door.” Megan patted the top bag. They were now piled three quarters the way up the door frame. At least it would be a little more difficult to break in.

Yet, even more difficult to break out.

A fog crept over Drew’s eyes, the weed running like a ghost through his veins and lungs. “Just quit for a moment, Megan. Take a load off and take a hit.”

Megan rolled her eyes, her face showing her disdain. “And I was beginning to think you were cute.” She shook her head. “Last one.” She lifted a bag of flour and placed it on top of another bag. The door was now completely covered.

“Oh my God, Carl,” Drew went over and sat next to the big man, who lounged back against a wall. “Why didn’t you tell me you had this on you? It could have saved us a lot of—”

Knock-knock!

Megan backed away from the door, putting a finger to her lips.

“I’m looking for Drew Avera,” said a female voice on the other side of the door. “My name is Dr. Andrea Cross. I have word that he’s down here.”

14

J-Quadrant, Solar System - East Rise, Callisto

Fox pointed the phaser at Jaxx. “Tell me what’s going on, and now.”

The Kelhoon soldier, following Fox’s lead, aimed his ion rifle at Jaxx. “Ohinjaka.”

Fox twisted on his heels, now targeting the Kelhoon soldier. “Don’t move.”

The Kelhoon moved back a few paces, a confused expression on his lizard face.

Jaxx put his hand up in a halting gesture. “Wait, don’t—”

Whapoo! Whapoo! Whapoo!

The Kelhoon jerked backward and back again as phaser fire after phaser fire riddled his body. Fox jumped in the Kelhoon’s direction and kicked him in the stomach simultaneously blasting the lizard in the chest. The Kelhoon dropped to the ground and slumped over, dead.

Fox shook his head like a dog drying himself off after a bath. He blinked several times. “Don’t what?”

Jaxx rushed to the electric bars, grabbing them without thinking. He yelped in pain, the shock zipping up his forearms, and down to his knees. He shook his hands to get the electricity out of them. He cringed, holding his wrist. “Get out of here, Fox. Find Rivkah.”

“Find Rivkah?” He massaged his temple. “Goddamn, I have a headache.”

“Again, you were mind controlled by the Kelhoon leader. Get out of here and when you do, act like you’re still controlled.”

“Mind controlled? Are you mad, man?”

Jaxx stood, slapping his palm against his face. “Oh my God. Please…just leave, now.” He shook his head. “No, no. When more Kelhoon get in here, they’ll see a dead Kelhoon on the ground. Where are we going to put him?”

Fox went rigid. “Wait a minute.” His eyes widened. “You’re not screwing with me.” He paused, clearly thinking deeply. “I remember. I couldn’t get out of Okbak’s mind control. He had control over everything—” He glanced down at the dead warrior. “Shit.” He looked around, his eyes darting to every corner of the room. “The storage ambry.”

“Where?” Jaxx followed Fox’s eyes.

Fox ignored Jaxx, grabbed the Kelhoon’s arms, and dragged him across the floor to the other side of the room, leaving a long trail of green blood. He lifted a handle against a wall and a clank sounded. Fox pulled the door open, the hinges squealing in protest, and pushed the Kelhoon inside. He slammed the door closed, then pushed the handle down, sealing it shut.

“I’m getting you out of there,” said Fox, walking over to a console on the wall. “I remember the code to dematerialize the bars around you.”

“No, leave. I have to convince the Kelhoon to join our side.”

Fox furrowed his brows. “Did I just hear you correctly? On our side? What the hell did I miss while I was away?”

“Look, what I need you to do is get out of here before Okbak and his soldiers arrive.”

“You’re talking nonsense.” Fox pressed a few buttons on the console. “We’re getting out of here together.”

Jaxx took a deep breath and closed his eyes, bringing up a red, hot and angry energy. He opened his eyes and pushed his palms outward, sending scorching energy across the room and to the console. The console sparked, then lifted and popped off the wall.

Fox spun around. “You son of a bitch. Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“You won’t understand,” said Jaxx, standing in the middle of the energetic cage. “We have another threat out there and it’s not the Kelhoon. This one is worse.”

“What’s worse than some bad breath, Kelhoon assholes?”

“The Agadon. That’s why I have to convince Okbak to join our side and fight them.”

Fox crossed his arms. “Those bastards are just a rumor. We heard about them in the Secret Space Program, but they don’t exist. If a race like that existed, we’d be shit for brains by now and under their galactic control.”

“We are just about under their galactic control and we will be if you don’t leave and let me talk the Kelhoon into joining our side.”

The entrance door clanked open. “Whata do we hab here-ja?” It was Kajka Okbak, leader of the Kelhoon. He stepped inside, then two other burly guards followed him. Okbak bent down and touched the streak of blood on the floor. He put his finger in it and brought it to his forked tongue, and licked. “Who-ja die here-ja?” And since when could he speak English?

15

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Nearing Namuh Farms, Callisto

Rivkah raced across the snowy terrain, the snow battering her head and shoulders. She followed Slade’s energy ribbon. It led her south toward him and his screwed-up, perfectly walled city.

She stopped and Abdu halted next to her. She felt something hit her stomach like a scream in the middle of a quiet night. She touched her abdomen as a burning sensation rose from the base of her spine to her solar plexus. The sensation was anxiety riddled with confusion and fear. She put her hand out, touching Abdu’s, then went limp against him.

“Are you okay, Miss Rivkah?”

Rivkah nodded, her eyes fluttering rapidly. “It’s Jaxx. He’s in trouble. He needs help, but he refuses to ask for it. He needs us.” She wanted to turn, to go after him, to find the man who seemed as impenetrable and unlikeable as he was stupid. It was a tough mix to love, but Rivkah couldn’t help but fill up with emotions she’d packed away for so long for that man. “We have to turn back. He’s going to die.”

She shuddered, then took in a deep breath, clasping her hand over her heart. A child, then another, and ten more appeared in her vision, bound in chains, no older than six years old and longing for their mothers.

Rivkah had never known her mother. All she knew was a person like Slade, her dad, who had hurt her to no end.

What Slade was going to do to these children was a lot worse than what her dad had done to her.

“I’m sorry, Jaxx. I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered to her heart. A tear streaked down her cheek. “These children need me…more than you need me.”

She wanted to tell Jaxx that it was over anyway, that any chance to fulfill the prophecy died when Bogle left this world. Bogle was the lucky one, the one that death grabbed. To Rivkah, there was no heaven. And after death, life’s shitty memories ceased. It was better that way.

Abdu lifted Rivkah’s chin.

There was no physical sensation, but she knew he was reading her thoughts.

“You have a lot to learn. Death is but the next transition in life. Your scientists have probably found that all is energy, even the snow beneath our feet here. This snow will heat up, turn into water and evaporate instantly into water vapor that rises and is sent back into the atmosphere. You see, energy never ceases to exist. It always recycles and is the constant loop of life. Energy transforms and moves from world to world, from dimension to dimension. Bogle has moved on.”

“I don’t have time for any of your babble, Abdu. I am grateful you are helping me, but leave me with my own thoughts, please.”

“Aye, I will.” He smiled, then grabbed a handful of snow. He sat crossed legged on the ground, and stared up at the sky. “Callisto, you give us vital energy and allow us to live in each moment, even if our moments are soon to be short lived. Just as Rivkah gives thanks to me, we give thanks to you, beautiful moon. Allow us a safe passage to wherever our next destination may be, whether it be someplace in this life or if we are soon to be in the next.” He put the snow against his forehead, then touched his heart and gave a loud roar.

“You about done there, Abdu?” Rivkah held her fists on her hips.

“Let’s go,” said Abdu, jumping up. He gave her a nod, then raced forward.

Rivkah dashed after him, seeing Slade’s energy ribbon in front of her, flowing in the wind. “We’re almost there Abdu.”

They circled the base of a hill and crested a small incline between two more hills. There they stopped. In front of them was a magnificent wall with towers every few hundred feet, a city with skyscrapers, domes, and big landing pads on thick columns that rose above the walls. A big ass castle sat smack dab in the middle of the city.

This was Slade’s new home.

Rivkah noticed movement inside the closest tower. She narrowed her eyes and zoomed in, allowing Chi to move through her and enhance her sight. A Kelhoon stood watch behind a large tower window. He had binocular-like glasses around his eyes with a band attached to the back of his head. He held the tell-tale Kelhoon rifle by his side.

“They’re keeping the children somewhere behind those walls. We need to get them…save them.”

“I sense something.” Abdu crouched, then shifted quickly, grabbing his rifle. “Too late.” A loud crack pierced the air and his rifle went spinning down the small hill, bouncing on a rock, then sliding down the gravel to the hill’s base.

Next to him stood a Kelhoon—a Kelhoon who wacked the rifle out of Abdu’s hand. The damned lizard face had come out of nowhere.

Another Kelhoon landed next to Abdu with his rifle aimed at the lion’s face. Shit, they were dropping out of the sky. It was raining Kelhoon.

Rivkah stood, ready to take on an army, especially with Abdu by her side. They could easily take these two reptile brains.

A third Kelhoon dropped from above, then a forth, landing next to Abdu and Rivkah. One of them pointed up, a smirk on his face.

Rivkah looked up. An army, a literal Kelhoon army, were on the hill adjacent to them, their cannons and rifles aiming at Rivkah and Abdu.

She scanned the lizard-hybrid in front of her. The information wasn’t hard to find. It was etched on his synapses. The configuration of warriors on the far hill was the Kelhoon warrior way. They surrounded their prey, using any higher terrain they could find to their advantage. She touched on the Kelhoon’s deep, deep lust for her blood and backed her mind out of his swamp of a brain. What was going on in there was too awful to contemplate. They were creatures without remorse or conscience.

“What do we do now, Abdu?”

“We have to silence these guys, or let them take us in to the city as prisoners. It might be best if we surrender today to give us a gain tomorrow.” He eyed one of the Kelhoon soldiers. “I sense their orders are to capture, not to kill just yet.”

Rivkah surveyed the area like a combat strategist looked over a map. This planet was filled with caves, canyons, and hills with caves. She spotted an indentation in a hill a few hundred yards away—the tell-tale sign of a cavern on Callisto.

Rikvah curled her fingers in a fist. “Abdu, surrendering isn’t how I do things.”

16

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

Namuh Farms—no doubt named by some Kelhoon who fancied himself a real joker—had only just been built, but they were state of the art. The sleek, silent elevator plunged below ground with barely a hiss. The doors dinged and Slade stepped out into a well-lit underground area the size of a professional football dome.

“This is what you have to show—” Craig stopped mid-sentence. A black pyramid stood in the middle of a very large, sandy field. The ceiling was one big, natural light source.

Slade enjoyed the interruption. It was exactly the reaction he was looking for. “Sleek, ain’t it?”

“Sleek?” Craig walked toward the pyramid. “That’s not the word I was thinking. It’s a beauty. But the most important question is that since we just arrived, how the hell did you find this thing so quickly? It’s not like Namuh Farms is on the map.”

“A Kelhoon soldier showed it to me just after I arrived. I’ve only spent an hour down here exploring, but holy shit, what you’ll see inside that thing is amazing. And it’s my kinda shit.”

“Why isn’t the ground raised? Jaxx claimed that just about every pyramid raised the ground it sat upon.”

The pyramid was about a hundred yards away. “Jaxx said pyramids are like gravity lenses. The other Jupiter moons, and Jupiter itself, can’t use their gravity pull to tug the ground upward through this pyramid because it’s so far underground. It’s that simple, Mr. President.”

Slade walked forward. Craig followed. Their steps were light, slightly buoyant even. The gravity down here was different, less intense.

Craig ogled the pyramid, awed and mildly confused.

“I think the pyramid lowers the gravity forces down here,” said Slade.

“Yes, everything seems so much lighter down here.” Craig put his hand out, stopping Slade in his stride. Craig backed up a few steps. “What are those?”

Slade couldn’t help but smile. “Come on. Keep going. You haven’t seen nothing yet.”

Beside the entrance of the great black pyramid were two men no less than twenty-five feet tall, holding spears even taller, and standing motionless. Their eyes were closed but based on the subtle movements in their chests, they were clearly breathing.

Slade touched one of the giant’s boots as he gazed up at the forty-story high pyramid, it’s black walls sparkling with perfection. He turned back and winked at Craig. “These giants are in suspended animation. I don’t know how old they are, but my guess is that they’ve been suspended here for a long-ass time.”

Craig looked the giants up and down, craning his neck to get a view at one of their shields. “It’s like they came straight from the middle ages.” He cleared his throat. “How can they be suspended just standing there? Don’t they have to be hooked to machines?”

“No idea. Not my area of expertise.” Slade pressed on a human-shaped handprint on the large entrance doors. This was unlike other pyramids, where doors were eerily hidden or were simply small passageways blocked by a large limestone square piece.

This was an actual door, and when Slade removed his hand from the handprint, the door swung inward and a purple haze blasted outward. Slade covered his eyes until the purple light dimmed. “Come on.” His boots clanked on the polished, granite floor of the pyramid. “What do you think?”

A low hum echoed through the structure. And before Craig could say anything, two women, his size, and definitely human or Atlantean, came into view. They sat cross legged twenty feet apart. They faced one another with their eyes and mouths closed, breathing in and out while humming. A square, black block bigger than a van, hovered in between them and spun end over end.

“I think that’s how the pyramids were built, both on Earth and on Callisto. It was either by the strange hum that these two Atlanteans produce or from a technology that synthesizes with a Being and uses the Being to make those humming sounds. Or maybe they just have mutant powers like Jaxx.” Slade wanted to say like me as well, but he managed to keep his mouth shut on that score. It was a gamble just telling Craig what he’d learned from Jaxx’s whackadoo books, let alone that he’d been transfused with Jaxx’s blood. No way he wanted the President to know he had the same energy as Jaxx. He didn’t want to become some Government lab rat. Based on Craig’s slack-jawed look and saucer-like eyes, the man wasn’t going to ask where Slade had come by this radical information.

Craig eyed the women in awe, his mouth still slightly agape, doing his best to process this new data. “What do we do with this whole…thing.” He waived his arms around, indicating everything inside this pyramid.

“Look up,” ordered Slade, pointing to a ceiling.

Craig did. “It’s a ceiling. Why?” The ceiling glowed purple—obviously the source of the light inside the pyramid. “Oh, I see. That’s where the light originates. So this pyramid has at least one more floor?”

“Look more closely,” said Slade.

The ceiling went from purple to transparent. Above that ceiling appeared a black craft, perched like an eagle—on its back skids, wings down like a resting bird, its nose much farther off the ground than the stern.

It, too, was hovering.

The craft was shaped like nothing Slade had ever seen in all his years in the Secret Space Program.

“What the hell is that?” inquired Craig.

“I’ve not been up there yet, but I can’t wait to fly it.” Slade glanced around, like a child in a candy shop. “I just have to find my way up there.”

The humming sounded louder. They shot each other a look, then turned back toward the two women in meditation.

The large block hovering between the women rose higher and spun faster.

“Are they waking up?” Craig moved away from the two women.

Slade threw up a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about them. I want to show you something else.” He marched over to one of the walls. He placed his hand on a hand mold in the wall, just like he did to open the pyramid’s entrance. The partition flashed, changing from black to transparent. The transparent door didn’t open. Inside was a nice sized room. The walls were lined with weapons of all kinds. Not only were there ray guns, cannons, and ion blasters, there were futuristic bows and arrows with round tips, and thick swords, some for six-foot-tall people and others that seemed to have been made specifically for twenty-foot high Beings.

Several tables sat in the middle of the room, one on which had a hologram of Earth spinning on its axis, the moon orbiting it. Strange hieroglyphs were digitized above Earth, streaming across the screen. Jaxx could interpret exactly what those glyphs meant; one reason to keep the sniveling asshat alive. Slade rubbed his hands together. “What I wouldn’t give to get in that room and try those weapons out.”

“You haven’t figured out how to get in there?”

“Nope, but I will.”

A beep sounded and Slade glanced at his watch. He pressed on the digital display. “I’m in the middle of something. Is this urgent?”

“Moofkaja Rivkah janashanka,” came the reply.

“You found Rivkah? Where?”

“Koonjaka noija.”

“I’ll be right there.” Slade clicked off his watch’s comm link. He grabbed Craig’s arm.

Craig held his ground. “What are you doing?”

“Rivkah found us. But she’s trapped with nowhere to go. We have her.”

“Just kill her already.”

“I will, and when I do, it will be slow and hideous.”

17

J-Quadrant, Solar System - East Rise, Callisto

Kajka Okbak stood slowly, his hand on his holstered weapon. Two Kelhoon soldiers were at his side. “Who did-kja this-a.” He flicked his finger several times toward the green blood streak on the ground, then made a clicking sound with his throat—an indication that he was more than pissed.

“I did,” replied Jaxx. “In fact, I disintegrated him with my powers and I’ll do it to you if you don’t listen to what I have to say.”

Okbak hissed and scaly flaps lifted on the back of his head, making him look like he had a reptilian mane. “Do not…zz…threaten me.”

Jaxx nodded over at Fox. “Your master puppet—Mr. Fox— stopped me from killing two other grunts of yours. They left in a hurry. Is that how you train your minions? To run when they’re a little out matched?”

Okbak turned his eyes to Fox. “Jijoshaja moovja noja.”

Jaxx stared at Fox, unblinking, hoping he would cooperate, would find it in him to act like the Kelhoon slave he had been less than ten minutes ago.

Fox turned his phaser toward Okbak and gave the green monster a cold stare, deepening his tone. “You asked me if what Jaxx said was true?” He snorted. “Screw you two. I’m done with this.” Fox pulled the trigger.

A Kelhoon soldiers jumped in front of Okbak. The photon bolt dug into one of the soldiers, twirling him in the air, green blood splattering across the wall. The soldier scrambled to his feet, trying to remain in front of Okbak, but one more shot brought the grunt to the floor, limp and lifeless.

A second soldier positioned himself in front of Okbak and aimed, pulling his rifle’s trigger.

Fox jumped out of the way, the ion bolt blasting his phaser out of his hand. The phaser twirled in the air and exploded. Gun shrapnel riddling the wall.

Jaxx went to one knee and brought down the universal energy that was tied to his DNA. His hands burned until he couldn’t hold it any longer. He drove his hands to the ground, plunging the energy toward the Kelhoon warrior.

The soldier froze, then lifted off the ground and soared across the room. His face hit firmly against the wall and an ear-splitting crack erupted inside the room. The Kelhoon dropped, motionless.

Jaxx brought his eyes to Okbak and gasped. “No, Fox. Let him be.”

Fox was behind Okbak, his arm wrapped around Okbak’s neck. His legs were draped around the alien’s stomach as he arched back, closing Okbak’s air way with the crook of his arm.

Okbak flailed, reaching for Fox, battling to get this pest off of him.

“You kill him, Fox, then you kill our mission,” screamed Jaxx.

“Screw this mission,” said Fox, squeezing tighter.

“Fox, listen to me. He is a key, just like I am. We are all the key to this scewed up prophecy that we can fulfill if…and only if…you don’t kill Okbak. He is part of the plan. And he knows it.”

Fox shook his head, his eyes moving about like a crazy man. He breathed heavily, his mouth turned up into a smile. “Nah, this sentient Being right here is a dead lizard walking.”

Jaxx closed his eyes and shot his consciousness at Fox, doing his best to take over Fox’s mental state. An energy helix wrapped around Fox’s brain and Jaxx touched one etheric strand after another. Jaxx convulsed, connecting to Fox’s thoughts.

Jaxx whispered in Fox’s mind. “Let go.”

“Never,” responded Fox. “You can’t—”

“Drop Okbak and leave now,” whispered Jaxx. “You are to find Rivkah. Leave me to my own devices. I’m working this one alone.”

Fox dropped Okbak.

Okbak grabbed his throat, wheezing. He took quick breaths, his arms dropping to his side. He slouched up against the wall. The big lizards was spent; close to death. Close, but no cigar. The lizard-lord lived.

Fox stood. “Let’s go, Jaxx. Break yourself out of this damn electric jail cell and let’s get the hell out of here.”

Jaxx shook his head slowly. “I’m here to stay. Go, Fox. Now. More Kelhoon are coming and you may be the only chance we have—I have—to survive.”

The door opened and a Kelhoon soldier entered. And then two more. They rushed to their downed leader.

“Go, Fox.”

The soldiers paid Fox no heed. They were more concerned for their leader than anyone else in the room.

“Stupid move, Jaxx.” Fox gave Jaxx the middle finger and hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Okbak murmured something to his troops. They exited the room as quickly as they came, most assuredly going after Fox.

Okbak took a few seconds to catch his breath, slowly pushing himself up to a standing position. He clutched his neck. “You’ja are passionate about this-a. What you-jo want to say, Jaxx?”

“I’m offering you a way to live—a way for your species to remain, for the time being, on Callisto without conflict from me and my friends, including what is left of the Atlantean rebellion. I’m also giving your race a chance to survive a galactic genocide by the Agadon.”

Okbak touched his belly and cackled. He leaned up against the wall to stay up right, his breaths coming even faster. “We hab…zz…the Atlanteans and are-ja gathering more of…zzz…them every-jo day.”

“Your race’s survival depends on you hearing me out.”

Okbak dug into his satchel clipped to his belt. He pulled out a small, oblong device. “You put on. I k-then listen to what you have-a to say.”

Okbak walked forward, the device between his index finger and thumb. He slid his hand between the electric bars. He gave a nod to the device and then dipped his head at Jaxx. “If put on, I listen.”

Jaxx put his hand out and Okbak dropped the device in Jaxx’s palm. “Agreed.”

Okbak blinked several times, his lips upturning. “Put…zzz…on. Now.”

Jaxx turned the device over and over in his palm. It didn’t look like the gizmo he’d removed from behind Fox’s ear, but he was leery of putting any Kelhoon device anywhere near his cranium.

Okbak’s lizard lips were compressed, neither smiling nor grimacing. His eyes gave nothing away. Jaxx did a quick scan of the Kelhoon’s aura, but all he got was a cold, hard brush off. Either the lizard was cloaked or had no soul for Jaxx to read.

“Put…zzz…on…” said Okbak, pointing at his throat. “Sign-a of good-yo faith…zzz…between us two-ya races.”

Jaxx weighed his options. He wanted to no more blood on his hands, regardless of the color. He wanted peace with the Kelhoon, so they could rout the Agadon scum. He caught himself. Yep, he was cool with Agadon blood being on his hands. He was faced with a choice: trust Okbak or not. An alliance lay one way, death in an electrified cage the other. Bottom line: no choice.

He pressed the device to his throat. “Argh,” he yelled. His head jerked back and a bolt of electricity zipped through him. The oblong device slid around his neck and nestled under his ear, coming to rest in the exact location Fox’s brain-controlling device had been. He felt the prongs pop out of the device and break his skin, then force their way into his cerebral spinal fluid, taking over his central nervous system. He cringed, his mouth opening on its own, and his voice escaping from deep within his belly. “You piece of intergalactic lizard shit. We made a deal. This was not…” He fell on his back, screaming, willing the pain to leave him, wishing he’d listened to Zara, Kiyo-zan, or even Fox. At that moment, he realized being alone and doing this on his own was the exact opposite of what they all needed—of what he needed.

An instant later, he was still as a rock. The screaming had stopped, the thrashing, even the thinking. A fog covered his mind. His mouth opened. Something in the deep recesses of his brain spoke for him. “What shall you have me do, Prime Chieftan?”

18

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Outskirts of Namuh Farms, Callisto

A Kelhoon soldier grabbed at Rivkah. She pushed the warrior’s arm away with her forearm and shoved him in the chest, pushing him backward. He lost his balance, his rifle spinning in the air, and tumbled down the hillside.

Abdu kicked another warrior’s rifle from his claws and side kicked the Kelhoon. The grunt fell back against another Kelhoon. Abdu caught his rifle and shot a soldier in the chest. Abdu then aimed at the many soldiers on the hilltops surrounding them.

“Halt,” came an all too familiar voice.

“Slade,” muttered Rivkah.

Slade sauntered up the hill, his hand clutching a phaser, his eyes dead on Rivkah’s. He spat on the ground and wiped his lips with his wrist. “You aren’t going to bother me anymore. Today, you’re done.”

The Kelhoon backed off, giving Slade more room as he neared his target.

Rivkah suppressed a smile. “You’re in the slave and factory farming business now?” In a way, she hoped he would say no and all the visions she had of Slade taking children for this evil operation would have been just that—visions, and only visions.

“I’m in any business I damn well please to be in.”

Rivkah dug her back foot into the ground, the snow and pebbles crunching under her soles. “Let the children go and I let you live. That’s a promise.”

He stopped a few feet in front of her, his frame reverberating with adrenaline. He closed his eyes, brought his fists together, and stomped his foot.

The entire hill shook.

Rivkah gasped. “How?”

Slade dusted off his shoulders, his lips curving into a malicious smile. “Just like you, I received a transfusion of Jaxx’s Atlantean blood.”

Abdu stepped forward, ready to end Slade’s menace.

Rivkah put her hand out, stopping him. “This is between me and my old, asshole friend here.”

Slade raised his hand in the air, his fist curled as if he was grabbing someone’s neck and gripping tightly.

Rivkah’s chin rose and she lifted off the ground. She sliced her hand through his energy grip, dissipating his power. She dropped and landed on her feet. The force of her energetic slice pushed Slade down hard on his rear end.

He took a deep breath, punched the snow, then pushed himself to his feet. “Dammit, Rivkah. You’re always a pain in my ass.”

“Literally, apparently.”

Slade punched the air, sending a shock wave across the hill and into Rivkah. She lifted off her feet and flipped in the air. She landed face first and slid to a stop, her face half-buried in the snow.

Rivkah jumped up and blew the snow off her nose. “You little cheap shot. What you say we don’t use Jaxx’s screwed up energy coursing through us and fight street-style.”

Slade slowly shook his head. “I don’t hit women with my bare hands.”

“Oh, I see. You only kill innocent boys and girls or sell them as slaves.” She stood. “Why don’t you man up?” She clenched her fists and widened her stance, standing like a bad-ass woman ready to beat the crap out of this jerk.

A Kelhoon jumped from the adjoining hill, landing beside Slade.

“No,” yelled Slade. “She’s mine to take.”

The Kelhoon lifted its phaser.

Wapooo!

A blue energy bolt slammed into the Kelhoon. The soldier dropped his gun, touched the smoking hole in his chest, and took a last breath. His eyes rolled back and he slumped to the ground.

Wapooo! Wapooo! Wapooo!

Slade ducked and dove, avoiding more energy bolts heading his and his Kelhoon warriors’ way.

Rivkah dashed toward Abdu. He had one knee bent, the other knee sticking straight out, using the tip of his boot to rest a Kelhoon rifle on. It was odd-looking, but the balance was as skilled as any she’d ever seen. A Kelhoon was on the ground next to him, clearly being the soldier he stole the rifle from.

Wapooo! Wapooo! Wapooo!

Abdu continued to pull the trigger, catching Slade and the Kelhoon off guard.

Rivkah grabbed Abdu’s chains and hauled him from his firing position. “Follow me.” She had spotted a cave. From her brief experience on this moon, the caverns here all had a network of veins to run through, hide or get lost in. She needed to recoup for a while and regain her strength so she could sneak into Slade’s walled city and save some kids. With Abdu alive and by her side, she stood a chance.

Human and Leonian ran down the hill’s decline, matching each other stride for stride. Together, they jumped around a massive outcropping. A few yards beyond a boulder lay Abdu’s bamboo rifle. He tossed the Kelhoon’s inferior weapon and swiped his bamboo rifle in one sweeping motion, strapping it over his shoulder. Moving his legs at a fast pace, he leaned down and grabbed a handful of hefty rocks.

Rivkah sidestepped a desolate tree and barreled down the hillside, running faster than any mortal man or woman. Abdu was by her side, photon beams and ion bolts zipping by them as they rushed toward an indentation near the bottom of the cold, rocky hill.

Rocks exploded and splintered in the air, raining down on one side of Rivkah’s body and face like sand. She glanced at Abdu. He tossed a rock far in front of them just as an ion bolt smashed into it, turning it into a thousand pieces. He was the source of the sand storm she found herself in, but that storm was keeping them alive.

“Oh, shit,” screamed Rivkah.

Up ahead, dozens of Kelhoon grunts were heading their way. Any plan to divert from the cave and keep running was now out of the question. They were surrounded on three sides. They leapt off a small ridge, ducked under another outcropping and burst headlong into a cave.

“Keep going,” yelled Rivkah. “Let’s find an exit down a tunnel vein.” That’s if, thought Rivkah, there are veins in this cavern.

They rounded a jagged corner, and thank the cave goddess above, they came upon several veins that led in multiple directions. But which one to choose?

The problem wasn’t the choosing, though. The problem was the light. It was getting darker and darker the farther they ventured through the tunnel. About now would have been good for Bogle to do her hands-on-fire thing and guide the way.

Rivkah dashed down the farthest tunnel from them with Abdu on her heels. They turned a corner, then another.

“Let me lead the way. I see better at night, anyway,” said Abdu. “Hold on to my belt.”

Rivkah grabbed his belt—a thick rope tied around his waist —and Abdu trekked forward. The light dimmed more. Rivkah had no choice but to follow. She held on as tight as she could. Even if she fell, she would never let go. Adbu could drag her ass through the cave. There wasn’t any way she’d get herself captured by Slade again.

Abdu halted in mid-stride. “Dead end,” he said.

“Dammit,” Rivkah cursed. She grabbed her hair and yanked hard; something she used to do when she needed to divert the pain of a beating from her father. Better the pain you inflict on yourself than the pain they inflict on you, right? She would rather have died than be taken. But they weren’t there yet. Certainly not while children were being enslaved. “Now what? We can’t go back. They’d surely find us.”

“I see something,” replied Abdu. “Grab my belt again. In front of us are boulders laying on top of each other. Looks like there was a cave-in. I’m going to climb and pull the rocks out at the weakest point.” He clambered up the rock face. “We start at the top…to prevent an avalanche. An exit is no use to us if we’re buried under rocks.”

Rivkah held off from tapping her foot. Abdu didn’t need to see her frustration. The lion was doing his best.

Voices and clicks echoed through the cave along with the sounds of feet pounding against the ground. Slade and the Kelhoon were well on their way and had for certain found the vein Rivkah and Abdu went down.

“Shit, Abdu, faster. Just get that one big-ass rock moved.”

Abdu shook his head. “No time.” He took a giant step down toward her and placed one foot on the boulder. “Take my hand.”

Rivkah took his hand, hauling herself up the fallen rockface. As soon as they were parallel, she hooked herself onto the chains that crisscrossed his back, as she had done before.

Abdu reached up, grabbing a jagged handhold, and yanked himself up again, carrying Rivkah with him. “You have to go invisible.”

“What?” replied Rivkah.

“Not invisible, per se. What I’ve feared was between you and Slade is active at this very instant. He knows exactly where we are because he is tracking your energy signature. You did it with him, but I didn’t know he had the ability to track your energy ribbon as well.” He grunted, moving up to another boulder. “You must ethereally cloak yourself. This will inhibit Slade’s ability to track you. If you do, we have a chance that he will change directions and lose track of us.” He pushed off the side of a boulder, easily throwing his leg up on the next boulder, and pulled himself up.

Rivkah held on tightly, moving upward along with him. “How?”

“Close your eyes and go deep within. Find your energy thread and imagine it disappearing. Then draw in white light that you see in your mind’s eye literally washing your physical body away. He’ll no longer be able to track you, let alone see your energy cord.”

Abdu pulled himself up to the next boulder. He jiggled the boulder in front of him, picked it up, and placed it on a jutting boulder next to him.

Kelhoon boots vibrated across the walls. They were catching up to Rivkah. “How can I concentrate knowing they’ll be on us any minute now?”

Abdu pulled another boulder. “Almost through, Rivkah. Close your eyes and attempt it. No matter how feeble your attempt is, it may still work.”

Rivkah closed her eyes, seeing Slade’s energy ribbon. He was in the tunnel and close behind her and Abdu. But where was her energy field?

“I don’t see anything, Abdu.”

Abdu pulled out another boulder at the top of the rock pile. “Climb up me and go through the opening I’ve created.”

“I can’t see a damn thing.”

“Just climb and when you get over me, I’ll guide your hand to the opening.”

The footsteps came closer.

She pressed her foot onto his belt and reached up his long torso, grabbing the chain just below one of his shoulders. She pulled herself up and over Abdu, landing her knees on an uneven boulder. She leaned forward, her hand going unhindered through Abdu’s make-shift hole.

She scooted inside, not being able to see much but her shadowed arms and hands. She bumped her head on the cave ceiling and ducked, sliding through the opening. “Abdu, how are you going to get through?”

“I’ll get through, but right now, climb down and concentrate on changing your energy signature.”

She made her way down the rocks. When her feet hit the ground, she stood, not moving more than ten feet before she ran into another rock wall. She held her hands out, touching the walls, moving left and right, searching for another vein to run through. There was none.

They were trapped.

She dropped to the floor, leaning her back up against the boulders. She’d failed again. And all she just wanted to do was save children and couldn’t even do that. “We’re dead, Abdu. No way out of here except toward the Kelhoon and Slade.”

Abdu placed his paw on her back. She stiffened. She hadn’t realized he had already made it on this side of the boulder pile. “One thing at a time,” he said. “Close your eyes and cloak your energy.”

The Kelhoon footsteps echoed louder through the cavern.

“Damn, they’re coming closer,” said Rivkah, under her breath. She sighed. “Here goes.” She closed her eyes, seeing Slade’s energy. He was closer than she expected. In fact, he was crouched at a group of tunnel veins, closing his eyes himself, searching for her energy. He glanced up, pointing at a tunnel. “That way.”

She shifted her mind’s eye and saw herself leaning against the boulders. She floated, like a ghost above her body. Her body glowed with bright whites and yellows that danced around her, blazing outward like sun flares. It was beautiful. She’d never seen herself before. She was beautiful. She glanced at Abdu’s energy. It swirled around him in a rainbow of violets and purples, but just as bright—perhaps even brighter.

She hovered over herself and willed her energy to cloak, only to be seen by those who meant her well. She programmed her energy so that, from this day forward, those who would do her harm would not be able to find her by tracking her energy signature.

An oval light descended from the cave’s roof and surrounded her physical being. She gasped and popped back into her body, twitching.

“What the hell?” She glanced at her hands. They weren’t shining, weren’t full of light, but were again shadowed in the dim cave.

“You did it,” said Abdu. “Excellent work, Miss Rivkah.”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Slade found us and he’s on his way. I’ve failed again.”

Abdu rested his warm body closer to hers, pulling her in for a hug. The guy was as big as a sasquatch, or bigger, yet his hug was sweet like a puppy dog resting in someone’s arms. “I sense a lot, Rivkah. My race is telepathic. I not only hear your thoughts, I see your thoughts, but I do not judge your thoughts, which is something unusual to your species. Your dad ingrained, or rather, brainwashed you into thinking you were a failure. He did so in many forms and in many ways, using different techniques that he wasn’t even aware of. You’ve carried this sense of thought throughout your life. It is your journey to understand that it is not your fault, but it is your responsibility to heal. No one else can do so but you. And the beauty about you, Rivkah, is that you have the power and ability to overcome that obstacle.”

Click. Clack. Click. Clack.

The sound of boots entered the cavern. They were Slade’s. He was just on the other side of the wall of boulders.

“In truth,” whispered Abdu, his lips next to Rivkah’s ears. “There is no failure. In truth, you have overcome more than most people, and in that way, you have overcome your dad’s torture by continuing on in your life’s journey. You’re a survivor. You have much to teach this galaxy, and I’ll make sure you’ll stay alive to teach those in need.”

Rivkah nodded, not entirely believing what he was saying. Survivor? Yes, she was. There was no mistaking that. Failure? Of course, it existed. Maybe his race was blind to that word. She’d known her entire life that she was a failure and did a damn good job of hiding it. She sat straighter. They were trapped. They were about to die. “If the time comes, let me die.”

“It’s not your time.”

The sounds of more boots entered the cave. “Where are you, Rivkah?” Slade sounded like a bad guy in a horror flick. “I can practically smell you. And I have my Kelhoon buddies here wanting to do some pretty nasty things to you. But I ain’t going to give them the pleasure.”

A beam of light flashed through the opening in the rock wall and held still on the ceiling for several seconds above them.

“You went through there? Clever,” said Slade.

Abdu moved and aimed his bamboo rifle at the opening.

Rivkah went for her gun, but felt nothing on her holster. She bit her tongue, wanting to say every curse word in every language she knew. It was a short list, but Klothanktch garaaa skoptanka was easily the best curse in the Universe. Roughly translated from Ancient Feiarni it meant, “May you choke on your nads as I look on smiling.”

Someone was climbing up the boulders.

Abdu put his finger on the trigger. He popped off a shot, zipping through a Kelhoon’s head. The Kelhoon lost all control of its limbs as death ripped through its skull. It dropped from view.

“One down, Slade,” said Rivkah. “Who’s next?”

“You,” he responded. “Here you go.”

There was a fizz, as if Slade had opened a pop can, then a trail of smoke flew through the rock’s opening and onto the cave floor in front of her. A blinking light flashed just under the smoke. It was a small canister of some type. A bomb? It beeped, then beeped again.

Yes, a bomb. Her stomach sank. In seconds, she’d be a splattered mess of blood and guts.

Abdu rushed the explosive device and kicked it to the side. It careened off a wall and twirled behind him. He jumped in front of Rivkah, using his body as a shield.

The bomb beeped again.

The cavern flashed like a strobe light.

Wapooomb!

The bomb went off and Abdu pressed against her. He let out a long breath, and his body shook along with the cave. Rocks and debris fell from the ceiling, riddling Abdu’s back.

A second bomb flew through the opening, accompanied by a beep and a flash.

Wapoomb!

Rivkah went to move, to escape somehow, to get Abdu and her out of here alive. She pushed Abdu, but he didn’t budge.

“Abdu,” she whispered. “You have to move. We have to get out of here.”

More rocks fell and Abdu didn’t respond.

19

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

Another knock. “Drew Avera?” The woman cleared her throat. “My name is Dr. Andrea Cross. I was once friends with your mother and father.”

Mother and father? His mother was dead and his father was an asshole. This woman being friends with either one of his parents wasn’t going to get Drew to move a muscle. Besides, Carl’s ganja had allowed his mind to mellow and his mellow to melt. If the world was coming to an end and purple-blooded aliens had become shape-shifters, whatever. Perhaps that was the way it was meant to be. He’d done his bit; saving the kid, Mya, escaping from that maniac, Michael Anderle, and busting the story wide open about the politicians leaving the planet for Callisto. He deserved to kick back and get higher than high. He’d denied himself for too long. Let someone else be the hero for a change. He needed to go back to being plain old Drew: stoner and sometime investigative reporter, with more emphasis on the former skill set. He took a long, hard, sweet drag on Carl’s blunt and held the breath for as long as he could. Sweeeeeeeeeeeeet surrender.

“Your father is on Callisto, the Jupiter moon you wrote about, the Jupiter moon that you were investigating.” Dr. Cross paused, waiting for a response.

Drew wasn’t going to oblige her.

“I’ve read all your work, Drew. You were right. Your father and his cronies were a pack of dirty liars, who had no intention of evacuating the human population to Callisto. If only we’d listened, Drew. Your work was ground-breaking. Brilliant. Worst of all, true.”

Drew leaned back against the wall. She could praise his work as long as she liked. He knew he’d been right about his father, but it was good to hear someone else admit it.

“I’m with what’s left of the American government. We’re the ones who didn’t go AWOL. We’re on your side, Drew.”

Drew fought himself not to say, “You mean, you were the low-ranking cabinet members who weren’t offered a ride?” He snickered. She was a nobody. He could chill.

“We’re trying to piece some things together and need your help.” Her desperation seeped under the door.

Drew shifted on the cement floor. It was hard being a hard ass.

“And, we have a problem. A major cataclysm is coming our way. We are about to exit the holocene age, also known as the interglacial age, and we need to get you and several prominent geniuses to safety.”

Drew snorted, grinning at Carl. “She means me,” he whispered.

“You’re our future—if our race can survive. I think you know about the earth cycles, correct? We’re moving from a warm climate to a colder climate, or in other words, we’re moving closer and closer to another ice age.”

Carl and Megan each shot Drew a look. He knew what they must be thinking: who the hell are you, Drew Avera, and how did your father find himself on a Jupiter moon? Well, I am a grade-A genius and my father is a grade-A traitor who had my mother murdered before fleeing the planet. He couldn’t think about it. If he did, he’d be forced to do something. And Drew didn’t want to do anything. He wanted to sit on the basement floor and forget the world. He rolled his eyes and circled his ear with his index finger, suggesting the woman behind the door was a little cuckoo.

Carl and Megan weren’t buying it.

Drew felt his buzz threatening to buzz off. Damn.

“Okay,” said Andrea. “When you’re ready, my team and I will be waiting upstairs.” Dr. Cross took a step up a stair. She stopped. “I almost forgot. We are also here to protect you and everyone else in this city. And, I don’t know if you know this, but when you come upstairs, don’t be startled. There is a dead purple creature at the top of these stairs here. It’s disgusting.”

She made her way up to the bar. They heard a chair squeak and slide across the floor. Dr. Andrea Cross was taking a seat.

“Who the hell are you, Drew?” asked Megan in a whisper.

Drew didn’t answer. He thought of his mom. Why she wasn’t perking up with any suggestions. She’d been mouthy enough before. And Mya. Where was the little girl? He hoped she was okay and that her father was keeping her safe and alive. Drew hadn’t talked to Mya or even seen much of his little buddy in a while.

A blast shook the building. It was close. The basement lights flickered off and on. Carl jumped, then settled back down. The marijuana kept him in a happier place.

“I have a bad feeling about that woman up there.” Megan eyed the ceiling. “That bitch better not be taking any of my alcohol.”

Drew stood, his hand out toward Carl. “Another hit?”

Carl shook his head, squinting his eyes, giving his best Clint Eastwood impression. “I don’t trust you.” He reached for his rifle, but it was too far away and he shrugged. He brought the joint to his lips, took a deep puff, held it in, then slowly blew out.

Drew slumped against the wall, eyes closed. It was only then that he saw his mother, her arms folded, her mouth a straight line, her eyes boring into him. She’d been talking to him all along, albeit without actual language. She had been giving him her trademark silent treatment. She had faked dementia to keep Drew’s father from interrogating her to find Drew and ruin his life; and finally taken a bullet when Dear Old Dad worked out she and Drew were in contact. No wonder she didn’t approve of him sitting on his butt with a faux-buddy and a wet blunt.

“Message receive, Ma. Loud and clear.” Drew stood. “I’m going.” If this Andrea woman was telling the truth, then he was needed in some way. If she was full of shit, then no harm no foul. If she wanted to kill him and was part of some government group who wanted to obliterate him from existence, then she could have ended him already, but hadn’t.

Megan pointed her rifle at Drew. “You’re staying.”

Drew walked over to the door and picked up a bag. “Put these bags back when I’m gone. Don’t worry about me.” He dropped a bag to the side, then picked up another, dropping it to the floor.

Megan puffed up her chest. “Don’t remove even one more, Drew.”

Drew hesitated and thought for a moment. He shook his head. “I’m sorry.” He threw another bag aside. “You shoot me, then you’re a dick.” He gave Megan a wink and a smile. “And I know you’re not a dick.”

Megan remained quiet until Drew removed all the bags. She held the gun steady. Drew touched the door knob.

“Don’t do it, Drew.”

He slowly turned the knob. “Like I said, cover the door back up when I leave.”

Megan took a step toward him. “I’m coming with you.”

Drew glanced at Carl. The big guy’s eyes were closed and his head was resting against the wall. The guy was asleep. “Alright, but put down your rifle. I don’t want any trouble up there.”

Megan raised her brows. “Heck no.”

“Shit. Suit yourself.” Drew stepped on the first stair. It creaked, the old boards whining loudly. He eyed the staircase. “I’m coming on up.”

The chair slid. Andrea had stood up. Then a second and a third chair slid a few inches across the floor. A male voice mumbled something Drew couldn’t hear. There were several people waiting, not just the doctor. Drew halted and put his hand up. He pointed his finger at the basement door, adamantly whispering, “Go back down there.” Andrea had invited Drew up, and no one else. He wanted to hear the woman out, wanted to know what she had to say. And he didn’t know if that would happen with Megan in tow.

Megan patted her rifle, shaking her head. “Move.”

Drew put his hands on his hips. “No.”

Megan sighed. “Two of us are coming up.” She gave Drew a long stare, daring him to contradict her.

“Two?” inquired Andrea.

“Yes, two,” responded Drew, wanting to kick Megan in the shin.

“How old is the woman you’re with, Drew?” asked Andrea.

What an odd question.

“I’m in my early twenties,” responded Megan.

“Okay, thank you,” replied Andrea. There was an air of disappointment in the doctor’s voice.

They stepped over the dead, purple creature from who-knows-where, its blood dripping down the staircase, and made it up the steps and to the bar. Two bulky men in sun glasses stood next to a woman who looked to be in her forties, long brown hair, and a white coat on over her clothes, as if that’s all the doctor ever wore. The men had odd-looking guns hooked to their belts and acted more like body guards than anything else.

“Wow, you don’t look like your father at all,” said Andrea, her lips downturned. She gestured to a chair that was pulled back from a table. “Take a seat.” She flashed a smile.

“She was my apprentice, Drew,” came Drew’s mother. Oh, good! Back to talking! Drew hated getting the silent treatment from his mother. Even dead, she ruled his heart. “Be—”

Gun fire rumbled outside, drowning out Drew’s mom.

She was what, mom?

No reply.

Should I trust this woman?

Again, no response.

Shit. So, his mom knew this Andrea woman. A good omen, a bad one? He sighed loudly and took a seat, cautiously eyeing Andrea. Megan took a seat next to Drew.

Drew crossed his arms. If Andrea Cross was going to spill anything that she knew about Drew and his dad, the last thing Drew wanted was for anyone in Whitefish to know, especially Megan. She was the bar owner, bar tender, and server in this joint. And who knew, maybe she had a gift for gab and gossip. His dad, Slade, wasn’t a nice guy, and everyone who had witnessed Slade’s hightail off this planet, along with the rest of the politicians, might not care one iota if he, Drew, was a good guy. The sins of the father could definitely be visited on the head of the son. His high had almost evaporated. Sad how thoughts of sin would do that to a guy. He fell to Earth with nasty realization. His Father was Public Enemy Number…well, not One…but in the top 10 for sure. Murder by association might not be off the cards. Drew was certainly associated by blood to Slade.

Andrea gestured for one of the guards to move over by the door. He did, taking a peak outside, then nodding to Andrea.

Andrea rubbed her eyes. They were tired, a little swollen and bloodshot. Whatever she’d been up to, it sure as heck wasn’t sleep. “Sorry. We’ve been trying to locate you for weeks, Drew, per your mother’s orders. If she were to die, we were authorized to find you and implement the plan. We’ve been looking for you, so we can take you to safety.

Drew frowned. What in the actual heck was she on about?

“We are to take you to safety, if and only if, your mother gave you pertinent details before she passed. And, according to our sources deep inside her assisted living center, we have confirmation that she did relay the relevant data to you.”

“Something my mother told me has kept me safe?” Drew looked around, confused.

“Close. Something your mother told you will keep you safe. We are to take you to safety.”

Still made no sense. “Why didn’t you get me right after she died?”

“We tried. You weren’t there. We now know that you took quite a long road trip, which brought you here, to Whitefish, Montana.” She tapped the table as if emphasizing her point. “And here we are now.”

“I was sitting on my ass for four days in my Charlotte home after she was killed.”

Andrea jerked slightly when Drew said killed. Why would she do that if she knew what had happened to his mother at the assisted living center?

Andrea blanched. The pause between her glancing away and glancing back at Drew signaled all he needed to know. She’d bungled something. But what? Drew concentrated hard, waiting for another tell to flit across her face. She claimed to be acting on orders from his dead mother, but hadn’t known she’d been murdered. Something didn’t add up.

“I thought she died from natural causes,” said Andrea. “I didn’t know she was killed.”

Drew blinked, doing his best to erase the memory of his mother’s death from his mind. “She was poisoned and died right in front of me.”

“You’re sure she was poisoned?”

“Damn sure. And, how—”

Megan held up a hand, interrupting Drew. “Excuse me? Why exactly are you here and how did you track Drew down to this exact location?”

Megan took the words out of his mouth.

Andrea nodded. “Good question. I’m here to move Drew to a safe place. There are plenty of safe areas in the United States if you know where to look. He’s to help us re-seed the United States for the future generations. Otherwise, we won’t have much of a nation.”

Megan tapped the table with her finger, also emphasizing her point, though more so her confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Drew chimed in. “What I’m assuming, and what I accidently came upon during my investigations, is that much of the government fears a global warming catastrophe. Apparently, after global warming spikes and after the water rises significantly, we immediately and suddenly fall into an Ice Age. The Earth’s water to land ratio changes so abruptly, the moon’s gravitational pull on the Earth’s rising oceans tilts the Earth in a way that spins us directly into an ice age.” He gesticulated with his hands, excited to talk about his Uncle Jaxx’s research. He dug pretty deep after reading Jaxx’s Ph.D. The stuff was fascinating. “This apparently is cyclical and has happened over eight times in the last million years. Let’s just say Earth is used to it. I’ve heard my uncle Jaxx say this before, but now I know the meaning…it’s all about gravity.”

“Yes,” responded Andrea. “And with that comes earth changes you won’t believe. Even though there are safe places in the United States, we are still going underground during the first few years of the polar shift.”

Megan moved in her seat. “Hold on. You didn’t answer my question. How did you find Drew at this specific location?”

“Let’s go,” said one of the body guards. He held up his wrist and put a finger on his watch. “We don’t have much time.”

Andrea stood. “Understood.” She held out her hand for Drew to take it. “If you want to bring your friend here, you can.”

“I have a request,” he said.

“No more talking, Andrea.” The other guard stepped forward. “We have to move.”

“We have a little more time. Don’t worry about that,” she told the guard. She gathered herself and folded her hands in front of her. She leaned in toward Drew. “Yes?”

“Before I go with you, take the rest of the people in the city and evacuate them to a safe place.” He glanced up. “I don’t know if you haven’t noticed, but we’re being bombarded by big-ass ships. Please take the people of Whitefish to a safe place.” Most of all, he was thinking of Mya.

“That’s the plan.” Andrea reached into her coat and pulled out a picture. The picture was old and Drew could tell it was taken from a camera back in the nineties before cell phones. She handed the picture to Drew.

Three people were in the picture, all hippies. One was a woman with blond hair, holding a baby. A man sat beside the woman. He was scruff, toned, and looked as uncomfortable in his clothing as he was uncomfortable with his long, bushy hair and beard. The guy stared at the camera like he wanted to rip it apart and throw it to the bottom of the sea.

A second woman stood next to the woman holding the baby. She was younger than the other two, perhaps ten years younger, and definitely in her teens. She had brown hair, much like Andrea’s and stared at the baby with love, care, and excitement. Drew could tell she wanted to hold the child.

“The woman holding the baby is Laura, your mom. The woman next to your mom is me. And the man next to your mom, is your dad. He was quite a bit older than your mom, at least by ten years. His name was Colonel Slade Roberson—”

Of all names, Drew didn’t want to hear Slade. “I know my dad’s name. He—”

Megan gasped. “The guy who took all the politicians off planet?”

Drew nodded.

Megan rested her elbows on the table. “I don’t know if I should thank your dad or shoot the prick.”

Andrea straightened her lips. “Shall we get going?”

Drew remained seated, hesitating…thinking. “No. We need Mya. I’m not leaving without her. I have to find her and her dad. Then we can get going.”

A guard leaned his hip against the bar. “We know where she is. We’ll get her on our way to our transport.”

Drew and Megan looked at each other, then gave a sideways glance to Andrea. He didn’t want to say it out loud, but he sure as hell hoped Megan had heard the gorilla in a uniform use the word “transport.” They weren’t being escorted from Whitefish, they were being abducted.

Andrea immediately noticed her guard’s mistake and back peddled, her eyebrows raised. “Mya’s safe. You’re all going to be safe. Just do as I say. Follow me and you’ll be…”

“Safe. Yeah, I heard. Strange how the more you say it the less I believe you.” Drew’s antennae were all on high alert. Something wasn’t right.

Megan lifted her rifle and pointed it at Andrea. Drew pushed off the table, standing, and backing away from Andrea and her guards.

Andrea put her arms up. “Drew, we don’t want any trouble.”

Megan slowly moved to her right, making her way toward the steps that went down to the basement. “Drew, follow me and get that weird phaser gun you left down in the basement. And wake Carl. Kick him if you have to.” She inched closer to the steps. “I’ll wait up here and I ain’t moving my sights from the doctor here.” She glanced at one of the guards. “You hear that? If you shoot, this Andrea bitch gets it.”

Drew cautiously made his way toward the stairs, eyeing Andrea the entire way. “Tell me, who are you really?”

Andrea dropped her hands by her side. “Your friend here will die if you do not come with us.” She snapped her fingers a few times and the guards unholstered their odd-looking guns and targeted Megan’s head.

Megan moved her finger closer to the trigger and closed one eye, aiming at Andrea’s chest. “Do it, bitch.”

20

J-Quadrant, Solar System - East Rise, Callisto

The room was empty, filled with darkness, or was that just Jaxx’s mind playing tricks on him? The last and only time he felt like this was when he had a bad LSD trip.

He held onto the sides of his head and crouched on the floor. The electric energy bars surrounded him, keeping him captive, surging ambient blue light and flashing every so often as if zapping a bug.

A screaming terror ran through his ears like fingernails down a chalkboard accompanied with a cat screeching bloody murder. The sounds filled his body, jolted his nerves, and squeezed his heart with a vice grip.

It was unbearable.

He wanted to vomit, anything to get this feeling out of him. If he’d had a knife, he’d have slit his own throat just to be away from this sensation for a few seconds.

He turned in a circle in his crouched position, seeing dark humanoid shadows in the room, coming toward him, wanting to suck every inch of life from him. They melted, oozing into a thick, black mess, reminding him of gallons of spilt black ink. They slithered his way.

Were they real? He shook his head and closed his eyes tightly. He slapped the side of his head. Opening his eyes, the shadows were gone.

He dug into the implant behind his ears. He pulled, twisted, and scratched at it. It wouldn’t budge.

Fight this, Jaxx. Fight this, he told himself. He was caught in Okbak’s grip by way of the Kelhoon mental implant.

If he could just doze off, sleep for a few hours, then he could concentrate better. Every attempt to fall asleep ended the same way. He was electrified, thousands of volts surging through his muscles, ligaments, and tendons.

Why didn’t he let his friends help him? Why did he think he could do this all on his own? He shook his head, and slapped his cheeks again.

Okbak, on the other hand, wasn’t so bad, wasn’t so negative. He felt the thought sneak into his consciousness; it had a different feel, a different mental taste to his own thoughts, and yet it marched forward as if it had been invited in. These Kelhoon have a right to commit genocide on the Atlanteans, and to use humans as food and slaves. It is just the nature of life. Life is cyclical. Some must die so others might live.

“No,” yelled Jaxx. He contorted his face, then whacked his ears. “Do not fall for their tricks.” The implant was doing its job, placing new thoughts—positive thoughts—about the Kelhoon in his mind. It was lying to him, convincing Jaxx to lie to himself. And in time, Jaxx would believe those lies…unless he could rip this implant off his skin.

Use the Chi. Use it, he chided himself. But how? He could barely think on his own, let alone bring up energy for his benefit. For all he knew, the Chi would backfire and cause mayhem, even penetrating deep into Callisto’s core, blowing the moon to shit.

He shook his head violently, almost laughing. The implant was putting more dangerous thoughts into his brain. The last thing it would want would be Jaxx channeling Chi.

“Screw it,” he said, clenching his jaw. He let out a growl and threw his arms in the air. He took in a deep, forced breath. “I can do it.” He stood and widened his stance.

You can’t do it.

He fell to the ground. “You’re right. I can’t.” He groveled on the floor, tears pouring out of his eyes, the side of his face smashed against the concrete flooring. “I’m hopeless.”

He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “No. I’m Jaxx.” He pushed himself up.

Don’t be silly.

He bounced his head up and down, pulling his hair, agreeing with his own thoughts. He was being silly. In no way would it be intelligent to use Chi. It’d kill the entire galaxy in minutes if he wasn’t able to contain it, channel it, put it to its proper use.

“What? That can’t be.” He paced in a circle.

He crouched and put his head in his hands. “Stop.” Screams ran through his mind and he rubbed his legs frantically. If he just let go, let the implants control his emotions, his movements, his very opinions, everything would be fine. No more pain, no more screams.

It would be easier.

Jaxx liked easy.

“No, I don’t like easy.”

You do. Easy takes away suffering. Easy gives you patience. Easy helps your friends.

He stomped the ground. “No more.” Okbak would not win this. He brought in all the energy he could muster, pulling it up from his solar plexus to behind his ears. He squeezed his fists together, veins popping out of his forearms and forehead. “You will not win, Okbak.”

The oval device sparked, then fizzed. The internal screaming inside Jaxx’s mind died, the pain searing every facet of his body diminished, and the darkness faded.

He took a deep breath, gathered himself, and wiped the sweat from his brow. He smelled something burning. He looked around, trying to find the source. He glanced up. A trail of smoke wafted toward the ceiling. He checked the ground. It wasn’t coming from there. He looked at the energy bars surrounding him. There was a steam that rose from them, but that wasn’t it. Where was it coming from?

He turned his head, feeling a stream of smoke touch the back of his ear for moment. He brought his hand up and touched the oval device behind his ear. It was warm and definitely the source.

Not good. The trauma of short-circuiting the device had stupefied him, momentarily. How could he have not known the smoke was coming from him?

Boots clanked against the ground outside. Someone was coming.

He took a step back to bring himself close enough to the electric bars that by chance the smoke could be hidden in the singeing and sparking electricity around him, and perhaps in the steam rising. If anyone saw the smoke, they’d know he’d sabotaged the device. He couldn’t let that happen.

The door clicked.

Kreeeeeeeen!

In stepped Kajka Okbak. He slammed the door shut behind him.

Jaxx stood straight. “Ready for orders, sir.”

Okbak dipped his head. “Good. You will stay in here until I deem it necessary that you are completely under my control. Do you understand, young human?”

The device’s language translator still operated with perfection, yet the mind-controlling aspect was either out of commission, or blocked.

“Yes, Prime Chieftain.” Jaxx didn’t know if what he was saying was Kelhoon protocol or absolute bullshit. If it was bullshit, Okbak didn’t seem to notice.

“In the meantime, I have a proposition I’m taking into consideration. You’re the key to the pyramid network across the galaxy. A network created by the Ancients. I could either keep you and use you for my race’s benefit, or I could sell you for my own benefit. You’re worth a lot in galactic credits. You’d be the most expensive slave ever sold in Kelhoon history. I’d be a legend.”

“Do as you please, Master.” Jaxx did everything he could not to twitch a muscle and to keep his eyes on Okbak. But could Okbak not see the smoke or smell it? He wanted to close his eyes and call Zara, Fox, Rivkah…anyone to come and help him escape. Zara was right. He shouldn’t have gone it alone.

He concentrated on Okbak’s eyes and whispered for Zara, Kiyo-zan, and Fox in his mind. Help me. My cell stands unguarded and when it’s under guard, only a few Kelhoon stand watch. There has to be another way to turn off the energy bars around me. When you find the way, and disengage the bars’ electrical charge, come get me.

Okbak covered his hand over his ear. He nodded, his eyes conveying a tinge of surprise. “He is here now? Let him come forward.” He crossed his arms and gave a screwed-up smile in Jaxx’s direction—if you could call it a smile. His sharp, yellow-stained teeth and crooked upturned mouth looked more like a facial tick, but Jaxx knew it was supposed to mimic a smile, not something you came across often when dealing with the Kelhoon.

“How much he offers will determine my decision,” said Okbak. He didn’t explain who “he” was.

The door creaked open and a man in a full robe, his hood covering his face, walked in. The door shut behind him. He bowed to Okbak, then turned and bowed to Jaxx. A loud, mechanical laugh came from the man, like a saw cutting steel.

Jaxx forced himself to remain absolutely still, in spite of the summersaults his stomach was executing.

The newest visitor to Jaxx’s cell gave a few more cackles and sniffed. He flipped off his hood. It was Taz, his blue-gray skin flaking off his face, and his eyes burned a hole through Jaxx. “Before I hand over the majority of Agadon assets, in exchange for this stinking chunk of human meat, I must ask you, Kajka Okbak, why does my future prisoner have smoke pouring out of his head?”

Okbak curled his lips and narrowed his eyes. He took a deep whiff and eyed Jaxx more closely. He hissed and looked over his shoulder. “Guards!”

21

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Outskirts of Namuh Farms, Callisto

Abdu was playing dead. He had to be.

Rivkah pushed him forward and a rock slipped passed him and to the ground. “Abdu, I need you to move.”

Slade and his Kelhoon grunts had left the cave a few minutes ago, thinking Rivkah and Abdu were dead. It told her that Abdu’s invisible technique indeed worked, and Slade could no longer detect her. She wondered if it meant Jaxx couldn’t find her energy signature as well.

Right now, it didn’t matter. She pushed a rock off of her shoulder, then slid several more off of Abdu. When she did, she touched a gooey liquid on the back of his neck.

The cavern was dark and she couldn’t tell exactly what she was feeling, but her worst fears told her it was Abdu’s blood.

“Please get up.” She jammed her shoulder into his chest and pushed, rolling him away. More rocks cascaded off of him and fell to the cold, stone ground.

She patted his fur, looking for his face. When she felt soft lips and his cat-like nose, she held her hand a few inches away to feel his breath against her palm.

Her heart fell. He wasn’t breathing.

“No, no. Stay with me.” She slapped his chest, then pushed him onto his back and slammed her fists on his sternum. “Come back.” She slid the chains on his torso aside and used her fingers to locate Abdu’s breastbone, where his ribs came together. She placed the heel of one hand on the top of Abdu’s breastbone and laced the fingers of both of her hands together. She used her body as a weight and pressed down, one after the other, performing chest compressions. “I said come back.”

She pressed and he jolted, his arms and legs jerked back and forth. She sat back, lifting her hands off of him. “You awake? You there?”

No reply.

His arms and legs were limp.

She pounded his chest with her fist. “You son of a bitch. Come back to me.” She stood, placing her hands on her hips. She shook her head and glared up at the ceiling. “What the hell?” The lion saved her. He gave up his life for hers. Who would do that for her? She was nothing more than a pile of shit who could kick ass and take names, but that was about it.

Again, why would he die to save her? He deserved to live more than she ever did. He was a good individual who cared about life and had a compassionate heart. Rivkah, on the other hand, wanted revenge, justice, and to just live her life out without anyone bothering her again.

She reared back and kicked a rock. It ricocheted against the cave, echoing against the cave walls. She wiped a tear from her eye and bit her lip, telling herself there would be no more shedding of tears. She was responsible for Abdu’s death and she wasn’t going to let her pity herself for a situation she put them both in, and just to save some little girls and little boys she’d never met. What were they to her? Nothing. What was Abdu? Her friend. He was her dear, dear friend.

She should have just let the kids be. If they were to be placed on the butcher block, then so be it. Traded into slavery? Well, at least some would live.

She let out a scream.

No, she couldn’t fold, couldn’t let those kids be traded away to Death or a life in chains. She didn’t need to know their names to care. She looked down at the huge, gentle Lion she’d grown so fond of. Abdu had saved her to save the kids. She needed to honor his sacrifice. “Might have been better if you’d saved yourself, friend. But if this is the way the chips have fallen, I’ll do it. For you.”

She scrounged in the dark, trying to locate Abdu’s rifle. She felt the tip of the muzzle, kicked rocks off of it, and strapped it over her shoulder. She climbed the rocks to the opening, taking one last look down at the dark silhouette on the ground. “Thank you, Abdu. You’re a true warrior.” She dipped her head in respect and blew a kiss his way. “You saved my life and now I’m going to save some others.”

She crawled through the opening and made her way down the rocks. She dusted herself off, then dashed forward and through a vein in the tunnel that led to the entrance.

It was quiet when she made it outside, and cold as hell. The wind buffeting off the snow, shoving an even bigger chill across her body. It was night, and she could see the glow of Slade’s city beyond the hills. She took a step forward, heading for the children.

22

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

Drew dashed into the basement and grabbed the phaser and nudged a snoring Carl with his foot

Carl opened his eyes, grunted a few incoherent phrases, smacked his lips together, and went back to sleep.

Shit upstairs was getting real and dangerous. Drew did not have time to coddle some crashed-out stoner, but he didn’t want to leave the dude in the basement with purple-blooded aliens on the rampage, either.

Wapoooo! Wapoooo!

Megan’s scream made the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention. The sound of her rifle clattering to the floor didn’t do much for him either. Drew turned and rushed to the staircase, his phaser at the ready. He ran up the first set of stairs and came to the landing and halted. He had no clue what Andrea’s bodyguards were doing, though he could hear them stomping around the bar. He didn’t want to race in and get splatted. He poked his head around the corner. A guard bent to pick up Megan’s rifle.

“Don’t think about it,” yelled Drew, slowly walking up the steps, the stairs creaking at each footfall.

The guard kicked Megan’s rifle across the room and backed away.

Drew couldn’t see Megan. He took another step up. “Megan?”

Andrea walked into view.

“Megan?”

“I’m here,” Megan’s voice was weak.

“Are you alright?” asked Drew, taking another step up. He still couldn’t see her, but her voice told him she was at the far end of the bar.

The guard inched backwards, toward Megan.

Drew trained his weapon on the guy, and again, the guy halted.

“I’ve been better. I’ve got a few flesh wounds is all. They shot me twice.”

He took another step up. “Where did they hit you?”

“Arm and leg.”

He stepped onto the last stair, seeing Megan on her knees out of the corner of his eye. She was against a wall, clutching her bicep. Blood was dripping down her elbow and to the wooden floor. Her leg was injured too, though it looked like nothing more than a scrape wound.

Drew side stepped toward her, his phaser not moving from the guard. “All three of you, leave.”

“Not without you, Drew,” came Andrea. Her eyes were full of worry. She either was a great actress—like Academy-Award-level good at faking it—or was genuinely concerned about what had just happened. “She was about to pull the trigger, Drew.”

Megan shook her head, her eyes throwing darts of fury at Andrea’s head. “The hell I was.”

Drew bent down next to Megan. “Let’s get you downstairs and bandaged up.”

The stairs creaked. Drew froze and looked up.

P-taff!

A rifle shot. The mirror behind the bar shattered. Drew ducked and Megan fell into him, alarmed.

The guards twisted around, wild eyed, and took aim at the stairs.

Wapoooo! Wapoooo! Wapoooo! Wapoooo!

They sent phaser bolt after phaser bolt as Carl took a step up at the top of the staircase and into view. Phaser charges slammed into his chest and he lurched backwards.

“No, Carl,” shouted Megan, her arm outstretched.

Carl grunted, and the sounds of his body tumbling down the stairs rebounded across the bar.

Drew slumped, knowing the guy was dead. No way could he have survived so many shots to the chest.

Megan scrambled to her feet, her eyes wet with tears. She raced to the staircase. She covered her mouth, her other arm hanging by her side, bloody and useless, and sobbed.

“Put that gun down, Drew,” said Andrea, her hands out. “I’m sorry for Carl. I really am.”

Drew slowly stood. He shifted his gun’s aim on Andrea. “Who are you, really?”

Andrea stepped back, more sorrow in her eyes, more incredible acting accolades in her future. “I am just a friend of your parents. We worked together. They were like parents to me, Drew. I’m to keep you safe. It was your mother’s last wish.”

“Carl’s dead,” hollered Megan. She reappeared at the top of the stairs, her face wild with grief. “Who…why would you do this? The guy wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

The guard by the front entrance marched into the middle of the room and thrust his gun at Megan. “She’s deadweight. We don’t have enough medics to deal with her. We need to get out of here. Now.” He closed one eye and focused his sights on Megan. “Bye.”

Wapoooo!

Drew dropped his gun, stunned. The guard collapsed. Drew’s mouth gaped open. He didn’t mean to. It just happened. He had tapped the trigger, blasting phaser fire into the guard’s chest, killing him instantly.

Wapoooo! Wapoooo!

Drew’s shoulder whipped back and he stumbled into the wall. His legs went weak and he slid down the wall; a line of blood from his shoulder wound streaked down with him. He took a few breaths. His eyes wanted to close. His mind raced. He needed to keep his eyelids open. If he closed them, he’d be toast. He knew that. “I can sleep when I’m dead.” He blinked several times and touched his shoulder. It was listless and numb.

Andrea bull-rushed the guard, knocking the phaser out of his hand. “You idiot.”

The guard pushed her away, then tapped his ear a few times. “We need assistance and now.” He looked at Andrea. “I was protecting us. That’s my job.” He crossed his arms, glaring at Drew. “More guards are on their way. So don’t think about making another move.”

“Drew?” called Megan.

Drew felt the life force seeping out of the wound in his shoulder. The ache in his shoulder was growing. Lethargy crept from the wound down into his chest. He coughed. “Yeah?”

“You’re alive.” There was a sense of relief in her voice.

For a moment, Drew lightened up. Someone in the room cared about him, and that it was someone as pretty as her was a plus. She didn’t move, though. Didn’t run to him like she had with Carl. That wasn’t such a plus.

Drew rested his head on the wall, and shook it back and forth. “Megan, go downstairs until they leave. Lock the door. Patch yourself up.”

“Do as he says,” Andrea chimed in. “Don’t die on account of someone you don’t know.”

The bar door opened and in walked a handful of guards— Andrea’s guards.

“Grab our target, and let’s jet out of here,” said Andrea. She gestured to another guard. “And you, don’t let that young woman come any closer. She’s not an asset.”

A guard grabbed Drew by the collar and twisted, bunching up his shirt. He leaned back and pulled Drew to his feet.

A sudden waive of dizziness overtook Drew and he fell into the man like a drunk.

“Grab Drew’s feet,” said the guard corralling Drew. Someone gripped Drew’s feet and lifted him. The other guard shifted his hands under Drew’s arms.

Drew yelped in pain and squeezed his eyes shut. His shoulder and arm were on fire, and every few seconds a knife-like sensation pierced his chest. This being shot “thing” felt like shit. He considered asking Megan to throw Carl’s dime bag at him so he could smoke a joint to soothe the pain, but before he could form the words, the front door opened and they hurried him outside.

It was dusk, and quiet. No alarms. No bombings. No sound except the shields, which buzzed like an incessant and insistent bee.

Andrea put her hand on Drew’s stomach, and through the lethargic fog taking over his body, he peered up at the brunette doctor. “Where are you taking me?”

“Home, Drew. We’re taking you home.”

“Charlotte?”

She shook her head, sympathy in her eyes. There was more to home than she was saying.

“Where is home?” Drew asked, his head bouncing up and down from the guards’ movement.

“To our ship, then to Callisto.”

Callisto? “The moon?” Slade was on Callisto—his bullshit, shitty-ass father.

He closed his eyes, hoping this was a nightmare, but opened them again almost immediately. He knew he couldn’t wish this away no matter how hard he tried. He had to stay awake in order to stay alive.

They turned down an alleyway and headed for a massive park near the center of the city. “Your ship’s in there?”

“We landed in the park. Yes.”

“How did you get past the shield?”

“A friend of a friend.”

A friend of a friend? What did that mean? He thought for a moment, and in his tired state, remembered a time when a portion of the shield was down for maintenance. It happened right in front of his eyes. A soldier turned off a shield battery in order to, quote unquote, fix a portion of the shield. Did they get through at that very moment?

No shit, Sherlock.

Boots clacked on metal and Drew looked around. He was being carried up a ramp and into a nice-sized ship of some type.

“Andrea, what—” Drew stopped, seeing that she was no longer by his side.

The guards set him down on a cot, then buckled him down, strapping a restraint over his chest, waist, and legs. They pulled tightly, then walked away.

“Where are you taking me?” Drew turned his head, seeing several young children also strapped on cots. They were asleep. But why were children strapped and asleep in the first place? Did their parents know their children were in here? Or, were these the guards’ kids? Two plus two was becoming five. These puzzle pieces weren’t fitting together.

“Hey, Andrea,” called Drew, screaming at the top of his lungs, then gasping in pain from his throbbing shoulder. “What is going on?”

“Drew?”

It was a young girl’s voice.

Drew lifted his head. “Yeah?” What child in Whitefish, Montana could possibly know his name? There was only one. Dear God, don’t let them have her.

All the kids he could see were still fast asleep.

“Drew, over here.”

Drew looked back toward the door, eyeing a shadow at the base of the ramp. The shadow stepped forward, coming into the light.

It was Mya. She had a strange violet halo around her. She smiled and dipped her head. “Don’t be afraid, Drew. Never be afraid.”

23

J-Quadrant, Solar System - East Rise, Callisto

Kelhoon guards burst into the room, their rifle butts pressed against the crease of their pec and shoulder, aiming at Jaxx, ready to pull the trigger.

“You tricked me.” Okbak crossed his arms, eyeing Jaxx. “I don’t like to be tricked.”

Taz smiled, his brown-stained teeth displayed against the blue tinge of light coming off of the energy bars. “Oh, how I would love to watch you die. Very slow and methodical. But I’m not here to kill you. I have other plans for you. The pyramid network runs through you, Jaxx. And,” he shot a look at Okbak, “our mind control tech is much better than a measly Kelhoon’s tech.” He stepped back and looked Jaxx up and down. “And, who would have imagined that a Being would be a key to the network, let alone a Being’s very own DNA. It’s very clever.”

Okbak’s scales raised on the back of his head, his nostrils flaring. “You insulted me.” He cackled, pressing his hand on his stomach, calming down an instant later. “I like you. You don’t fear me like the Atlanteans and humans.”

“Fear doesn’t exist in my world,” responded Taz. He turned back to Jaxx. “With you in hand, I can manipulate the pyramid network as I please. I will be the decision maker. I will determine who enters the network, where in the galaxy they are transported, and how much they pay me in order to access the network. And, don’t worry, we’ll treat you like a king, because without you, the Agadon controlling the network wouldn’t come to fruition.”

Jaxx dipped his head. “You could even sell weapons to those asshole races that want to take over peaceful cultures. I mean, what’s stopping you?” He patted his chest. “Oh, yeah, me.”

Taz’s smile diminished and he straightened his gray lips. “You couldn’t stop me, Jaxx.”

Jaxx winked, the same way Slade always had—with contempt; as if he had something devious up his sleeve. “Over my dead body. Literally.”

Taz tilted his head. “You’re thinking of killing yourself?”

“If you think you can use me to control the galaxy, and in a negative way, then yes, death would be my only resort.”

“You die and your wish to close the pyramid network will die with you.” Taz twitched, his head cocking to the side a few times. He nodded. “Good.” He bowed to Okbak. “I just transferred my abundant storage of galactic credits to your storage.”

Okbak leaned into a guard. “Verify, please.”

The guard knocked his fists together and exited the hut.

“And, Jaxx,” came Okbak. “Once the funds are verified and in my storage bins, I’m handing you over to our new friend and galactic ally, Taz, here.”

A faint whisper entered Jaxx’s mind, “Anata no kai o kidō shi, junbi ga dekite iru.” It was Kiyo-zan. Had they come? Had they answered Jaxx’s calling? Was Rivkah with them?

He closed his eyes, searching the area outside the hut. Three energy signatures were nearby, hiding behind a Kelhoon hover vehicle at the camp’s entrance. It was Zara, Kiyo-zan, and Fox.

Fox actually did his job and found them.

Jaxx opened his eyes and brought up his Chi. Taz tensed, sensing something change in the room.

Taz went into a defensive stance, grasping his phaser and glancing around the room. “Who’s there, Jaxx?” His lips upturned. He was ready and wanting a fight.

Jaxx played dumb. “Who’s where?”

Kaboom!

The hut rocked back and forth. Jaxx stood planted to the ground while Okbak and his guards were tossed backwards. Cement-like material splattered against Jaxx, covering him with gray debris. A cloud of dust formed in front of him, coming from a giant hole in the wall—a hole big enough for several people to fit through.

Taz stood, unhurt, unflinching. He growled like a bear. “Come and get it.” He raised his hands, energetically lifting a fallen hunk of the blasted wall, and threw his hands forward, hulking the chunk at the hole. The chunk broke in half, hitting something hard on the other side of the fog.

The smoke cleared. Kiyo-zan was standing at the opening with his shield up; Fox and Zara behind him.

The energetic bars surrounding Jaxx zipped off. Jaxx crouched and jumped toward Taz, wrapping his arm around Taz’s neck, putting him in a choke hold. He raised his energy even more, and tightened his grip.

Taz grunted, slamming his elbow into Jaxx’s side, pushing him against a wall. Taz turned and swiftly backed up, readying for a swift punch, then paused. A moment later, thick, blue liquid spewed out of his mouth. He grabbed his throat with his hand, gasping for breath. He looked down. The side of Kiyo-zan’s sharp shield had sliced through his spine and stuck out of his chest.

Kiyo-zan pulled it out, disgust all over his face.

Taz dropped to his knees and then landed face first into the floor. Fox leaped beside Kiyo-zan, pulled out his phaser and squeezed the trigger several times, poking holes in Taz’s back, making sure the prick was dead.

And he was.

Jaxx spun around. Okbak and his guards were stirring, awakening from the sudden blast that had knocked them sideways.

“We need him,” said Zara, rushing over to Okbak. She picked him up, sliding her furry arms under his scaly armpits. “I’m pulling him to the transport.”

“Transport?” inquired Jaxx.

“Yeah,” replied Fox. “And we need to hurry. The Kelhoon will be coming in hordes.”

A laser whizzed through the hole in the hut and struck the far wall. Kiyo-zan’s back hugged the wall and he poked his gun out of the opening.

Wapooo! Wapooo!

His phaser sent bolts at Kelhoon warriors. “San-ri no senshi.”

“Only three on their way?” Jaxx picked up Okbak’s rifle and slammed the rifle butt on the back of the two Kelhoon guards’ heads, knocking them out cold. “More will be on their way in a matter of minutes. Let’s go.”

Kiyo-zan lifted his wrist in the air. And out of his gold wrist band materialized his shield. “Yuko.”

“Yes, let’s go,” replied Jaxx.

Kiyo-zan jumped through the opening, his shield up. A Kelhoon laser bolt hit the shield, sizzled wildly, and branched around the face of his shield like lightning.

Darkness had started to set on the moon, which was good, and for better cover. Jaxx and Fox crept to the opening. They targeted two Kelhoon and popped a few shots off, downing the alien bastards.

Zara pulled Okbak through the hole, dragging the prime chieftain on the cold, snowy ground. “Up ahead we have a Kelhoon transport ready.”

Jaxx and Fox continued firing, riddling everything in sight, and followed Zara through the hole. They shot wildly, missing Kelhoon after Kelhoon, but hitting them wasn’t necessarily their goal. Keeping them away, was.

Jaxx targeted a hover vehicle, and shot off two blue phasers, hitting the unit’s ion drive. It quivered, then exploded, picked up off the ground and twirled in the air. Several Kelhoon dove for cover, others weren’t so lucky as the vehicle slammed down hard on them.

“Turn,” yelled Zara, running backwards, tugging the Kelhoon leader. She turned, pulling Okbak down an alleyway.

Jaxx followed. A Kelhoon transport came into view. “How did you get that?”

“Hotwired the shit out of it,” replied Fox, running and shooting.

Jaxx, running beside Fox, aimed his weapon at oncoming Kelhoon soldiers.

“Your Japanese-looking friend did.” How Fox could run and talk was a mystery.

Jaxx should have known. The Tayonians—whose culture had been destroyed by the Agadon—could engineer just about anything better than any race in the galaxy. But saying the Taiyonians were merely tech geniuses was an insult. They were beyond genius.

Several Kelhoon stepped around a corner in the alley, and in front of the transport. Their rifles pounded against their chests as blue bolts left the tips of their muzzles.

Jaxx slid, ducking. Fox did the same, and a group of bolts flew over their heads.

Zara roared, lunging awkwardly to the side, blood flinging from her hip. She curled away from Okbak as more bolts flew in her direction. Kiyo-zan back flipped, landing directly in front of her. He held his wrist up and took the brunt of a dozen rifle ion slugs into his shield, absorbing the energy.

Jaxx dashed forward, and slid to the side, pulling his trigger as many times as he could. More photon bolts sprang from his phaser, slamming into the Kelhoon blocking their way. A few direct hits and some fell.

One of them let out a loud hiss, pointing directly at Okbak. Despite Zara’s injury, she managed to continue pulling their leader along behind her. The Kelhoon bowed their heads at their prime chieftain and moved out of Zara’s way.

A Kelhoon warrior touched the back of his ear, pressing a communication device. He mumbled incoherent sounds and clicks. An instant later, the Kelhoon ceased fire.

Jaxx eyed Okbak, his head bobbing back and forth, his eyes slowly opening and closing. He was still out of it and not fully aware of what was happening.

A Kelhoon kicked dirt, and another Kelhoon glared like he wanted to do nasty, violent things to Jaxx. The soldier’s rifle hung from his scaly hands, no doubt wanting to pull the trigger and blow Jaxx’s brains out—then eat them. Those sick pricks.

Yet, the Kelhoon remained quiet, obedient to their leader. The last thing they wanted to do was accidentally harm their prime chieftain, or worse yet, kill him.

The tension was palpable as they reached the transport. More Kelhoon began to congregate around the ship, watching, and waiting for something—perhaps their leader to wake up, and then order his warriors to open fire and destroy those who were kidnapping him.

Fox tapped the back of the transport, its silver ramp clicking, then moving down to the ground. It hopped a few times as it touched down and Fox waived his crew to follow him up the ramp. “Zara, hurry your tail. Drag lizard-brains up with you”

Zara pulled the massive Kelhoon up the ramp.

Jaxx and the rest were close behind. Reaching the top, Jaxx turned around and slapped the close ramp knob, watching the Kelhoon disappear as the ramp ascended. The craft shook when the ramp closed and locked in place.

“Kiyo-zan,” said Jaxx. “Take the controls.”

The craft was large, built for the tall Kelhoon—about fifteen feet from floor to ceiling—and filled with rows of seats to transport Kelhoon soldiers.

Kiyo-zan sat down on the cockpit’s pilot seat and studied the ship’s controls, then nodded as if he’d figured everything out—in under ten seconds. He pressed several buttons, and the ship lifted off the ground.

Zara dropped Okbak next to a seat and grabbed her side, wincing in pain. She unclipped a vial of red liquid from her chains that crisscrossed her furry torso, and placed several drops on her injury. She cringed, growling, baring her sharp teeth.

Jaxx sat next to her. “Are you okay?”

“Worry about Okbak, not me. He’s starting to wake up.”

Okbak’s eyelid slits opened and closed several times. He rubbed his face.

Jaxx pulled out his phaser and aimed it at the prime chieftain’s temple. “Understand, my friend, that if you make a wrong move, one of us will end your life.” He eyed Fox. “Where are we going?”

Fox was sitting across from him. “Far from here.”

The transport zipped forward and Jaxx glanced at Okbak. “I’ll deal with you my way from now on, lizard-man.”

Zara pounded the seat next to her. “Your way? What exactly is your way, peach-fuzz? Your last attempt to deal with Okbak nearly got you and the rest of us killed. We had to take unnecessary steps that took time that we don’t have in order for us to rescue you. You being captured, you doing this on your own, was not needed, and your unilateral decisions are poisoning us. We’re here to rescue the galaxy, not to fill it with negative Beings that want control and power because of your failure to be a cohesive team member.” She waived her arm around, then grimaced in pain. “You don’t know the meaning of we, do you? You think you are the major cog in the universe, the one that needs to deal with the negativity…and alone? Are you that unwise, that unintelligent that you would bar your friends and your allies from helping you. No, you are no longer capable of trust. You, my peach-faced ally, have shown us that you are only capable of nearly killing us.”

Jaxx went white, stunned. He wasn’t going to kill any of his friends. His plan worked. “I knew what I was doing.”

“Have you already forgotten the thought packets you sent us? You were calling for help. You were asking us to save your life. That’s the opposite of knowing what you were doing. Together we had a better chance to get in, and out. Yet, you pushed us aside for your own selfish reasons.”

Okbak grumbled, then touched the back of his ear. “Get our Leaping Lizards in the air. Attack this transport ship. Jaxx and I are no longer needed. It’s a been a pleasure being your prime chieftain.”

Jaxx kneed Okbak in the face. The Kelhoon’s head went into the side of a seat. He hissed, pressing his hands on the floor, pushing himself up.

“No more,” roared Zara. She grabbed Okbak by the neck and flipped him on his back. She landed her foot on his chest, holding him in place. “You are not permitted to move. Now tell your soldiers to back off.”

Okbak shook his head, and hissed a laugh.

Kiyo-zan looked over his shoulder. “Tochu ze sutafaita no Kelhoon. Agadon mo shibara rete imasu.”

Jaxx crouched, pressing his gun into Okbak’s cheek, pushing hard, anger streaking through his veins. “Kiyo-zan here says Kelhoon starfighters are on their way. He also says we have Agadon craft in bound as well. The Agadon aren’t going to like you and your starfighters trying to kill me.”

Fox rushed to the cockpit, and sat in the co-pilot’s seat next to Kiyo-zan. “They’ll be here in a few minutes. The Agadon are also targeting us.” He pounded his fist in anger. “We’re sitting ducks.”

Zara leaned in, her face close to Okbak’s ear. “Taz gave you more galactic credits than you’ll know what to do with. You’ll be the richest individual in the galaxy. And you think you’re celebrated now? Imagine what you can do with all of those credits. You will rule the galaxy, and more.”

The craft banked right and Jaxx fell over the seat in front of him, tumbled off of it, and landed on his back.

Zara crashed into him a moment later.

“Get your restraining belts on,” yelled Fox. “This is going to be a rough ride.”

Jaxx stood, seeing Okbak struggling to get his leg out from in between two seats. Somehow, the big green guy had gotten stuck.

Jaxx jumped on one of the seats that had grabbed a hold of Okbak, and wrapped a restraining belt around the Kelhoon’s scaly lower leg several times, pulled tightly, then buckled the belt into place.

The ship veered right and Jaxx gripped the seat cover, holding on so he didn’t take another spill.

“They have us on weapon’s lock,” shouted Fox. “Pull up, Kiyo-zan, pull up, you dumb-ass.”

Kiyo-zan merely smiled. He straightened the craft, heading directly for a line of Kelhoon fighters. He was calm as can be, a tell-tail Taiyonian trait, especially when in combat.

Jaxx buckled in, noticing Zara had already done so several seats across from him.

The craft shuddered. A laser made its mark on the transport’s belly.

“I said, pull up,” ordered Fox.

“Ichi…” said Kiyo-zan, his eyes trained on the oncoming fighters.

“We have bogeys in front of us and behind us. Get us out of here,” demanded Fox, his face turning red.

“Ni…” continued Kiyo-zan.

“That’s it,” Fox went to unstrap and take over the controls.

Before Fox could unbuckle, Kiyo-zan pushed his control stick down, putting the craft in a sharp descent.

A few explosions above, and fire fell like rain. A Kelhoon and Agadon fighter had collided, mid-air.

Fox gave a squealy laugh. “Holy shit!” He threw his hands in the air. “This Japanese guy is a flyer.”

Kiyo-zan slapped his own chest, and narrowed his eyes. “Taiyo-zan.” He obviously wanted Fox to know he was from Taiyo, not Earth.

Kiyo-zan shifted the craft, zipping into a canyon. Several bandits closed in.

Zara unstrapped her restraints and made her way over to a seat next to Okbak’s leg. He was still stuck, trying to pull himself free.

She unclipped a knife from her chains. “He isn’t going to like this.” She jabbed the sharp blade an inch into the arch of his foot.

He hissed loudly in pain, grabbing his leg, and bringing his head up. His veins stuck out of his neck, green blood pulsing through them. “Get your paws off of me.”

She grabbed his big toe and dug in with her knife.

Okbak howled.

“Tell your fighters to withdraw.” She shook her head. “No, tell them that you are no longer allied with the Agadon and order them to attack the pursuing Agadon starfighters.”

“Don’t take my toe,” he said.

She pressed harder, slicing deeper into his toe. Blood oozed.

The craft moved and Okbak screamed.

“Oops, didn’t mean to cut more,” said Zara. “Another movement like that and your toe will come clean off. And then I’ll start with the next. Now, tell them your new orders, Okbak.”

The craft shuddered.

“Damn it to shit’s sake,” shouted Fox. “Direct hit. We’ve lost ion drive one.”

The craft vibrated again and the sound of debris dinging across the craft’s outer shell reverberated against the inner ship’s walls.

“Whoa, wait a minute,” stated Fox. “An Agadon fighter just went down.” A ball of fire erupted in front of the transport, and a flood of heat washed through the cabin. “And another. The Kelhoon are firing at the Agadon.” He turned in his chair. “What’s going on?”

Okbak sent out a heavy, loud hiss. He laughed. “My pilots and warriors do not wish to end my life. They are targeting the Agadon, not you. We are the most loyal of all races.”

Zara snorted. “Plus, he told them to back off. Okbak isn’t going to admit it, but I think he actually likes the idea of being the wealthiest in the galaxy.” Zara threw her knife in the air and caught it next to her torso. Not bothering to wipe the green blood from it, she clipped it back into the chains.

“They’re all disengaging us and engaging each other,” said Fox.

Jaxx gave Zara a look. “Now we find Bogle, Rivkah, and Abdu. And we close this pyramid network once and for all.”

“And, Mr. Genius, where are they?” asked Fox.

Zara glanced at Jaxx, her eyes and expression asking the same question. Her lips drew downward. “I lost internal communication with Abdu a few hours ago. I don’t know why he’s gone silent.”

Jaxx closed his eyes, searching the ethers for Rivkah and Bogle. He shook his head, not being able to find a thing. “Their energy signatures are gone. It’s like they left the entire moon.” He kept his eyes closed, then opened them in a jerk. His mouth gaped open. “Head south. I’ve found Slade.”

“He’s not on the moon,” responded Fox.

Jaxx sat straighter. “He is and we’re going to pay him a visit.”

Fox let out a sharp laugh. “Are you serious? That bastard.” Fox rubbed his hands together. “I get first dibs.”

24

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

The shadows from the city walls stretched sixty feet over the terrain outside of the city, hiding Rivkah well.

Krachkrrrrr! Krachkrrrrr!

An explosion in the distance rocked the ground and balls of flame lit up the sky several miles away. A battle was raging. Maybe the Atlanteans had mounted a last-effort charge or the Agadon and Kelhoon were at each other’s throats, battling it out.

She hoped the latter.

She slid against the wall quietly, her back and hands barely touching the cold stone. She crept up to the base of a wall tower that loomed high above her and aimed Abdu’s bamboo rifle, wanting to get a good shot at the guard inside. She figured it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to kill a Kelhoon and cause a stir amongst the soldiers guarding this monstrous city, but it might open up the city’s front doors, which were like massive walls in themselves. In the commotion of it all, she could sneak in and find the kids.

Maybe she could kill her dad…she corrected her thoughts. Again. She’d made that mistake before. What the hell? It wasn’t her dad she was trying to kill. It was Slade. Perhaps she could imagine her dad’s face on Slade’s neck. That would make it that much better, and then she’d be a success.

It was a sick image and she shook it out of her mind, pressing hard against the wall, swallowing a cry—even though she would have felt ten times better if she’d let it out. Abdu’s words echoed in her mind. He was right. She had continued to think herself a failure. Yes, her father instilled that belief, but she kept it as her own. She’d taken the bait — hook, line, and sinker. Yet she was still alive. And she was a bad-ass, kicking the shit out of those who stood in her way, ultimately becoming one of the best pilots in the Secret Space Program.

Rivkah stopped. Being so talented and using it well wasn’t the path of a failure.

So Abdu was right. She wasn’t one.

He even said she was here to do good; starting tonight.

She pushed away from the wall and looked through her rifle’s scope. The guard wasn’t in view. She dropped the bamboo rifle by her side and studied the wall. Could she scale the sucker? She could, but the tops of the walls were lined with sharp razor wires so close together there was no way of jimmying her body through them. And climbing over them would be thoroughly impossible without losing pints of blood in the process.

The towers, though, could be her ticket inside. Some had windows surrounding the lookout, but the one in front of her didn’t. It was open, made for weapons—cannons, rifles, or whatever else the Kelhoon could set up on a tripod—to blow any advancing enemy to shit and back.

This tower in front of her wasn’t just for looking out.

She took in a deep breath, observing the rock wall more closely, pressing her hands up against it, finding a good hand hold. Some pieces of rock jagged inward and others jagged outward.

An evil smile curled on her lips. She could climb it, easily and quickly.

She hung the rifle over her shoulder and across her body, so it wouldn’t fall during the ascent. She reached for a portion of the wall that jutted out, and grabbed hold. She found a small outcropping to place her foot on. She took a step up, climbing one rock at a time. She was careful, silent, and her movements were precise.

Five minutes of scaling, she glanced down. She was more than halfway up. “Don’t stop now. Keep going Rivkah,” she whispered to herself.

Her foot slipped, and she gasped, her fingers grasping the rough rock, her legs dangling and flailing as she attempted to find another foot placement.

She heard several clicks from the lookout, and a Kelhoon stepped forward.

Rivkah found a foothold and pressed herself as flat against the wall as she could, hoping the shadows did their trick. Her body shook, not from fear, but because her muscles were straining from the effort of keeping her flat against the wall. Tightening her stomach, her biceps and chest muscles kept her posture as straight as possible, and it wasn’t easy. Most people would relax and fall, their muscles not trained like hers. She patted herself on the back, mentally. Not too shabby for someone who was out of practice and quite rusty.

The Kelhoon leaned over, observing the wall, and then the ground. “Goskajava kamanka.”

Rivkah closed her eyes, imagining she was invisible. It felt like a child’s trick, but it had worked with Slade, though that mental cloaking was designed to hide her energy signature, not her physical body. She had no idea if Abdu’s parlor trick would render her invisible.

The Kelhoon made a few clicks with his throat, then backed away.

Rivkah took a deep breath, then relaxed, curling her spine away from the wall, stretching it out as best she could without losing her grip. She pulled herself up and climbed until she made it to the edge of the lookout. She took a peak over the tower’s lip. A Kelhoon was sitting, drinking from a pipe which extended down into a mug. He was probably sipping blood—human or Atlantean.

Rage came over her and her Chi rose from her solar plexus and blasted through her limbs. She catapulted herself into the lookout, landing on the metallic floor.

The Kelhoon’s eyes bugged out and he flung the mug in the air, reaching for his photon rifle that was leaning against a wall. The mugs contents splattered over his chin and on his chest, dripping blood down its combat uniform.

Rivkah kicked the Kelhoon’s weapon across the floor, and slipped her rifle off of her shoulder. She went to one knee and released a purple blast.

The Kelhoon lurched forward, then bucked back from the impact. He bounced off the wall, his hands outstretched, and his eyes rolled back into his head. He slumped to the ground. Green blood oozed out of his chest, and he took a last breath, exhaling slowly. He toppled to his side, his eyes open and lifeless.

She ducked, hiding herself from any retaliatory gun fire that might come her way. When none came, she slowly rose in her crouch, peering over the edge of the lookout. It was nothing but stillness and quiet. Hopefully no one heard the commotion she’d just created.

“How the hell do I get down?”

She eyed a closed latch in the middle of the floor. She tried to open it. It was locked. She pulled again. It didn’t budge.

She began to run her Chi, then stopped when she saw a control panel on the wall. It had Kelhoon numbers she wasn’t schooled in, and if she was, the panel was probably a code box encoded with a password she didn’t know.

A light flashed across the hills and thunder rolled across the land. The tower quivered in response, and she went to her hands and knees. The battle over the hills was still raging.

She crawled to the control panel and tapped a few buttons. The digital buttons lit up, but nothing happened.

“Screw this shit,” she moaned. She didn’t know the passcodes. “I’ll pry the floor open.”

She folded her fingers around the latch’s edge, shifting her weight, and brought more Chi through her hands. The door moved an inch. Rivkah blew out an exasperated breath, her face red, her body sweating from too much exertion. She collapsed, catching her breath. “Is this latch made out of Chi-proof material?”

“Solka, jinshakaa hoji,” came a voice from where the dead Kelhoon lay.

Rivkah went into a defensive position; her leg extended, her elbow up, her other palm out and facing the Kelhoon. The Kelhoon didn’t move. He was still dead.

She realized it was the Kelhoon’s radio receiver and crawled to the Kelhoon, listening intently, wanting to locate the source of the voice.

“Solka, jinshakaa hoji,” said the voice again. Rivkah spotted a device behind the guy’s ear. It was his communication link. “Solka, jinshakaa hoji,” repeated the voice, this time clearly more irritated.

Rivkah hurried over to the latch and placed her fingers on its edge, and with all her might, she pried it open another few inches. After a few minutes of limited success, she let go and lay on her back, out of breath. “What is this, the galaxy’s greatest latch?”

Footsteps from outside echoed into the tower. She pushed herself up and cautiously peaked over the lip. Several Kelhoon were making their way toward her tower. She rushed to where she had entered, readying herself to climb back down.

It only took her two seconds to change her mind. She wasn’t in this rescue half way, or even eighty percent of the way. She was in this one hundred and ten percent, and counting. These children needed her help and they needed their parents, and she wasn’t going to let them die on her watch.

Wapooo!

A blast struck her wrist, spinning her and knocking her to the floor.

Wapooo! Wapooo!

Two more shots rang out, barreling into the side of the lookout tower. The tower shuddered, and rocks exploded outward, some pelting Rivkah.

She curled on the floor, her hand hot and damaged, blood slithering down her forearm and to the floor. She tried to move her hand and winced in agony, the pain enveloping her wrist like sharp fangs ripping apart every muscle in her body.

She held her damaged wrist with her other hand, holding it up to take a good look. “It’s done.” The wrist, and consequently, her hand was useless. Her skin was flapped back, her tendons sliced off the bone where they connected. And both bones in her forearm were closed breaks—cracked and separated.

From previous experience with broken bones in combat, she knew she had about six hours of adrenaline to keep her functional. Then what came afterwards was pure hell. She rested her hand on the ground, cringing, and unclipped a knife from her belt with her good hand.

She glanced at her pant leg, lowered the knife, cut and ripped the jumpsuit material at her shin. She grabbed and tugged a long piece of jumpsuit off. She sat up and a lightning-like throb ran up her bad arm, and her vision narrowed, her head going faint.

She slapped her face with her good hand to wake herself up, to keep herself from going unconscious. It worked…for the time being.

She scooted over to the bamboo rifle and leaned it up against a wall.

Kackow!

She pulled back in a start, covering her face. An explosive that must have been placed under the latch threw the latch wide open, breaking it off the hinges. She slid back, bumping her shoulder on the wall, jiggling her wrist.

She bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut, doing her best not to cry out in pain.

Crap. This wasn’t good. The Kelhoon were either on their way up, or just about to the top of the ladder already. She only had a minute, at best.

She eyed the rifle, and kicked the lower half, causing a portion of the upper half to bend and break off, giving her about six inches of bamboo rifle barrel she could use.

She set her broken wrist and arm on the floor, placed the tip of the broken barrel on her palm, and let the remainder of the barrel rest on her wrist and halfway down her anterior forearm. Her arm burned but she held in the scream.

She grabbed the torn piece of jumpsuit and wrapped it around her palm and the broken piece of rifle barrel, and all the way past her wrist as firmly as she could handle. Her eyes teared up in pain, and she held in a vomit. This was beyond excruciating.

She lifted her broken wrist toward her mouth and used her good hand and her teeth to tie a knot, then pulled back tightly, making sure the knot wouldn’t come loose.

A sharp sting went up to her fingers and back down her arm. She held her bloody wrist with her other hand, scrunching her eyes closed, waiting for the sensation to die down.

She opened her eyes. If the Kelhoon caught her like this, then she was a dead woman. No time for pain.

She snatched the rifle she’d just broken, and rested the now half-length barrel on her knee. She touched the trigger and aimed at the opening in the floor, hoping the shortened barrel wasn’t a major deterrent to the weapon’s function.

She remained quiet, targeting the open latch. Only an idiot would walk through that hole right now, unless they thought she was terribly injured, or dead.

They must have thought she was dead.

Fingers curled around the edge of the opening, then a green head, yellow highlights around the scaly brow, and white stripes near the mouth poked into view.

Wapooo!

The rifle pressed against the crease in Rivkah’s upper arm, letting out a purple blast. The shot whipped the idiot’s head to the side, cracking his skull where the ion blast impacted. The soldier lost its grip and fell lifeless down to the inner base of the tower, making a loud thud sound when it hit the ground.

A grunt accompanied the thud. There was no way that warrior survived the shot, let alone the fall. The lizard-head shouldn’t have made any sounds at any time after the fall.

It had to be a second Kelhoon.

She scooted over to the opening, slowly pointed her gun down, then peered cautiously through the hole. She quickly moved back, taking a picture in her mind at what she saw.

A long ladder from the lookout extended the entire way to the floor. And indeed, two Kelhoon lay at the bottom of the ladder. One clearly dead, smeared in green blood, and the other pushing himself into a seated position, rubbing his head.

Rivkah pointed her rifle at the Kelhoon, loudly whispering, “Hey.”

He looked up and hissed.

Wapooo!

Rivkah shot true—right between the eyes. The warrior slumped to the side.

She swung the rifle over her shoulder, the strap snug tightly against her, and let her bad arm drop to her side as she took a step after step down the ladder.

Her wrist aching, she did her best to use her bad hand to balance her on the ladder, practically flopping her hand on every rung, moving swiftly, holding in the agony at each step. At the bottom rung, she jumped away from the two dead Kelhoon, and landed, bending over in pain, holding her broken arm, shaking her head. There was no way she was going to save anyone in this condition.

Didn’t matter. She had to.

A cool breeze brushed against her, and she gazed up to see the bottom tower door wide open.

It was her exit. Or her death.

She made it to the doorway, and pressed up against a wall, peaking around the door frame to see if anyone was coming.

She quickly ducked inside. Dozens were heading her way, marching slowly, their rifles pointed at her tower. Slade wasn’t shitting around anymore.

She rushed over to the two motionless Kelhoon at the foot of the ladder. She patted them down, hoping to find a percussion weapon, something that resembled a G9, Galactic Scalable Offensive Hand Grenade.

Her good hand closed around cold metal. She pulled back. A knife. Kind of. This was no ordinary knife, this was a KH Whistle, which she’d used during her time in the Secret Space Program. She had no idea what the Kelhoon called these in their own screwed-up language, but these knives not only stuck into people like regular combat knives, they also had an explosive at the end of each hilt that could blow up an armored vehicle.

She withdrew it from the Kelhoon’s belt, placing it gently on the ground. She searched more, found another, placed it beside the first.

She frisked the second dead Kelhoon. Two more KHWs.

She picked them up one by one, attaching all but one to her belt. She held up the last one, tilting the hilt toward her eyes, wishing that it was day instead of night, so she could see the detonation timer.

“Just go with it, Rivkah,” she said to herself. She bit down on the dull side of the blade and twisted the round timer at the end of the hilt, hearing it click. She didn’t know how much time would elapse before the knife went boom, but going boom was all that mattered.

She flung the knife out of the tower. It whistled loudly as it flew in the air, until the blade stuck into the ground.

Silence.

Then commotion rang out from the Kelhoon advancing toward her, and many heavy feet pounded across the terrain, away from the KHW.

Rivkah hid behind the metallic tower door and crouched.

Krackow!

The tower rocked back and forth, and dust from the cement holding the rocks together fell from the walls. A few hisses and whelps told her she’d tagged some Kelhoon slime buckets. Perhaps they were down for the count, never to get up again.

A Whistle screamed into the tower, then another. Two KHW’s twirled by her, whizzing a few feet from her face, and sticking into the back wall. She heard the tick of the timers counting down, and her stomach turned into a ball of lead trying to crawl its way up her throat.

If she did nothing, in a few seconds she’d be a mess of flesh spread all over the inside of this tower.

She unclipped a knife, and ran out of the tower. The Kelhoon were already baring down on her.

She rushed forward, her boots gripping the grass with every step. She heard a Kelhoon’s rifle fire, and instinctively went into a somersault, her bad wrist pounding the ground. She came to her feet, and continued to run, wanting to scream, wanting to cry, wanting to stop everything and roll in pain on the ground, but being an easy target wasn’t an option.

She placed the knife’s blade into her mouth, clicked the hilt timer a few times, grabbed the hilt and threw the KHW to the side.

Ten more steps and she’d be on concrete, and ten more steps, she would be upon a white, round, six story building that looked vacant. All the lights were off, and the first-floor windows looked perfectly inviting.

Right now, it was her only route.

Krackow!

The concussion nearly toppled her over, but she was able to remain on her feet, moving her legs as fast as they could take her. She had no idea if she hit any Kelhoon. Maybe she killed them all.

Not a chance.

A second rifle shot, and a third, then a fourth blasted from several rushing Kelhoon warriors. Rivkah dropped to the ground again, keeping her eyes on the goal—the building—and rolled to her feet, again avoiding more rifle bolts.

Her feet now off of the grass and pounding on the hard concrete, she activated her Chi and took a flying leap. The wind rushed against her body as she flew through the air. She rolled into a ball and broke through the window. The sound of shattering glass surrounded her and the collision knocked the wind out of her.

She landed hard, tumbling to the floor, and sliding across broken shards of glass.

She pushed herself up, fighting against her body’s attempts to keep her on the ground to grab a breath of fresh air. She didn’t have time to appease her body’s wishes. The grunts of Kelhoon lizard-heads were coming closer.

The glass stuck into her hands and knees, slicing them open, as she made it to a standing position. She spotted steps that went up to the next floor. An ion blast tagged the wall across from her. She ran to the first landing, and went up another set of stairs.

More gunfire and she paused. Should she go through a door or keep heading up? They might expect her to keep climbing. She raced to the door to her right and burst through it. Kicking it closed, she ran down the hallway, lit by the dim glow of lights outside.

Doors lined the corridor like a hotel. Halfway down the hall, she halted in front of a door numbered twenty-nine. She gripped the door knob, and twisted.

It was unlocked.

She swung it open, swiping her sweat-covered bangs away from her face, and entered the room. She closed it softly, fighting the urge to fall to the floor and rest her racing heart, to slow her quick breathing. She was bloodied and bleeding.

And, again, she should be dead. True to form, the voice in her head painted the worst scenario.

“Screw you, Dad.” She was no failure. A survivor, yes. A strong, brave woman, capable of fending for herself, yes. Few people endured what she had in life, and fewer lived to tell about it.

She walked into a living room, which was bathed in low light, but she could see the outlines of furniture—a coffee table, shelves, two couches, and a recliner. It was all built for a human, in shape and in size.

Behind the living room was an open kitchen. Between the kitchen and living room was a hallway that most likely led to a bathroom and bedrooms.

She was inside a fully furnished fancy hotel room, or an apartment. Why was it furnished? Was someone living here?

She closed her eyes, energetically scanning the room.

She shook her head, and let out a breath. No energy signatures.

No one was here.

What was Slade trying to do? Bring an entire city of people here? Humans? Would they be workers? Was this where the politicians were supposed to live?

Hell, if Slade was already here, then were the politicians on Starship Atlantis here as well?

So many questions and no time to find the answers to them. At least, not yet.

She made her way to the large living room window, and looked out. A building was across from her, and a large road lined with street lamps was below, separating the buildings. She leaned forward, getting a better view of what was all around her.

A few blocks down were an intersection, and crosswalks, with signals? It was just like Chicago, or New York, or any other big city.

A Kelhoon assault hover-vehicle flew through the intersection with a handful of Kelhoon soldiers clinging to the side of the vehicle, weapons in hand.

They were most likely looking for her.

She backed away, and turned. Commotion came from down the hall. She hurried over to the door and locked it. She walked back into the living room and sat on the couch, both hands now throbbing.

She glanced at her good hand. It was covered in blood from two large glass splinters stuck in her skin. That meant the doorknob had blood on it as well, and probably a trail of her blood led right to this room. Shit. She’d led them right to her.

She unstrapped Abdu’s bamboo rifle, and kissed it. “If I haven’t thanked you enough, here is another thank you, Abdu.” She pointed the rifle at the door, using her knee to balance the remainder of the bamboo-looking muzzle. Her hand shook, and she closed one eye, making sure her aim was true.

25

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

“Get up, Drew. Follow her.” It was Drew’s mother. Again, she was talking to him, speaking from the other side of death and across the veil. And it wasn’t too long ago he took a few hits of ganja. Was there a correlation?

Probably not.

Mya stood at the base of the ramp. Drew tried to move. The straps kept him planted. He wiggled, then bit his lip, his eyes welling up. An ache tore through his shoulder and wrapped around his head in a ferocious vice grip. His head spun. He needed to puke, and swallowed hard to keep it down.

“That’s the girl,” said a guy walking from another section of the ship and into the ship’s cabin where Drew and the children lay. He glanced up. It was Anderle. The jerk was on this craft? He hadn’t seen Anderle since he and T-hacker had bolted from Anderle’s “hideout” with Mya in tow. That Anderle guy could not be trusted.

“Yep, that’s her.” T-hacker came into view.

Drew’s mouth dropped, and he reached out with his good hand, squeezing Anderle’s wrist, again gulping down more vomit. “Don’t touch her.”

Anderle tilted his head. “Drew? You’re awake? Hi, buddy.”

“What are you doing here?”

Anderle sat on the rim of a cot next to him, where a child lay. “This is my new job, Drew. I’m part owner of your dad’s business. Recruited earlier today.” He patted Drew’s head. He tapped a device-looking microphone attached around his ear and to his lower jaw. “Guards, we have another worthy child for our exports.”

Drew pulled away, then let out a loud yelp. The pain jumped all over his body.

Anderle’s eyes went wide and T-hacker stepped a few paces back. A violet haze entered the cabin.

Drew lifted his head. Mya had walked up the ramp and was in the craft, making her way toward them. Somehow the glowing aura around her grew bigger with every step.

“Go, Mya. Don’t come in here,” warned Drew.

What was she doing? Didn’t she know she’d get herself caught?

A guard, with Dr. Andrea Cross by his side, shuffled into the room, standing where the cockpit and the cabin met. He withdrew his gun. “Step back, little girl.”

Mya shook her head, and moved closer.

Dr. Andrea gently pushed the guard’s gun away from Mya, aiming it at the floor. “I think this is her.”

“Who?” asked the guard.

Anderle laughed. “Keep her for tests, Andrea. This girl has some strange voodoo shit going on with her.”

Dr. Andrea nodded. “You read my mind, Anderle. Now get out of my cabin and back into the storage where I asked you to stay.”

Anderle shut his mouth quickly, huffing. T-hacker pulled Anderle out of the room and around the corner.

“Mya,” Drew shook his head. “Get out of here.”

Mya didn’t say a word, and kept her eyes trained on the doctor.

“That’s a good girl. Come here,” said Andrea, motioning her to come closer. She glanced over her shoulder to the guard, whispering, “That has to be her. It has to be.”

Mya put her hand up, and smiled, walking even closer.

A click, and the ship vibrated. A low hum cut across the cabin. The ramp began to close.

Mya thrust her hand in the ramp’s direction. The hum ceased, and the vibrating stopped. The ramp dropped to the ground.

Andrea gasped. “She has Jaxx’s powers. How does she have Jaxx’s powers? I’d even say she’s more powerful.” She clutched her chest as if she was proud of the little girl. “We need tests.” She bent down, putting her hand out. “Now, come on sweetie. Let us close the ramp door, too. Okay?”

Mya shook her head and made her way to the back edge of Drew’s cot. She touched Drew’s foot and closed her eyes.

The guard stepped forward in a rush and Andrea put a hand against his chest. “No, no. This is part of testing. Let’s see what she has in store for us.”

A tingling went up Drew’s leg, through his abdomen, and into his shoulder. A warm sensation swirled around his injury and a heat encapsulated Drew’s body. He winced, not in pain, but because of the sweat that started seeping like a faucet out of his pores.

His shoulder involuntarily shifted inward, accompanied with a crunch and a sharp pain. In seconds, the rush, the blinding ache, and everything negative associated with his shoulder disappeared.

Mya patted his foot. “All better.” She stood, her head and face now defiant, her eyes like a devil ready to pounce. “Take the seatbelts off of him.”

Drew shifted in the cot. No pain. None whatsoever. He understood why they wanted to hold her for testing, but he was no asshole; he was never going to let that happen.

“You may point your gun at her again,” responded Andrea, crossing her arms at her chest. The guard lifted his phaser. “Now, darling. Don’t put me in a pickle here. I want to keep you alive.”

Mya slowly lifted her arm and even more slowly, swept her arm around the cabin, the violet energy becoming a bit thicker.

The children stirred in their cots, waking up.

“Take the seatbelts off of them, as well,” demanded Mya.

“Now, dear. I can’t take the restraints off.” Andrea tapped her toe, becoming noticeably irritated. “I’m going to count to three. If you don’t surrender yourself, and for the safety of my friends on this ship, I’m going to have to blow your brains out. Do you understand, little girl?”

Mya dropped her hands by her side, shaking her head.

“One,” counted Andrea. She took a step behind the guard that targeted Mya.

Mya got down on her knees, her hands curling into fists.

“Two,” continued Andrea.

Mya shook her head again and dropped her chin to her chest, taking in a heaving breath.

“Thr—”

Mya screamed and her head lurched backward and her back arched. A wave of energy blasted from her chest. The guard was picked up and thrown against a wall, Andrea with him. He smashed the doctor, and Andrea’s head clanked against a metallic beam, knocking her out cold.

The guard, now unconscious, dropped his gun.

The ship’s lights blinked off, the engine’s low purr ceased, and a bustle of guards ran into the cabin, barking orders here and there.

Everything was pitch black, and Drew couldn’t see a damn thing. He heard a slap, and someone fell to the ground. A bright glow emanated in the middle of the room, violet as well and obviously coming from Mya. A phaser went off, then a gun fell, clacking against the ground.

A grunt, and a guard went flying across the room, slamming into a control panel. Sparks shot out of the wall, dying down a few seconds later.

A snap, and all of the lights in the cabin came on.

Drew squinted, his eyes adjusting to the brightness. He looked around the room. Mya was crouched and in the same place she was before the lights went out. She was breathing heavily, her eyes wild and full of rage, sweat dripping off of her forehead and hair.

She slowly stood, her fists still at her side.

And to Drew’s complete surprise, a dozen men and women were on the ground, out cold. T-hacker and Anderle were among them, sleeping or dead. Drew didn’t know, didn’t care. He just wanted out of this flying vehicle.

“Megan,” he gulped, remembering his injured friend in the bar. “We have to help her. She’s dying.”

Mya dipped her head. “You will rule with her.”

Drew furrowed his brow, cocking his head to the side. “Rule with her?” What an odd thing to say.

Mya rushed to him, quickly unstrapping him. “Help me with the other children, Drew.”

He unstrapped his ankle restraints and hurried from cot to cot, child to child, freeing the confused, scared kids.

“Go, run to your mommies,” Drew said, pushing one child after another to their feet, watching them hustle down the ramp and into the darkness of night.

Mya grabbed Drew’s hand. “They’ll be safe.” She jerked him toward the exit. “We have to make it to the one who will rule with you.”

“The one who will what?” He ran down the ramp, picking up Mya, holding her on his hip. She grabbed a hold tightly.

He ran as fast as he could, dashing across the park. Megan was down and hopefully still alive. Drew slowed for a moment, feeling Mya shivering.

“Are you okay?”

She was crying. “I don’t want to kill anyone, Drew. No more.”

“What do you mean, Mya?” Drew took a left between two buildings, his feet taking him across the concrete and toward Megan’s bar.

“I have killed a lot of bad people, and people not from Earth. They are still trying to get in to this place, but I keep hurting them, keep killing them.” She rested her head between Drew’s neck and shoulder, sobbing.

“You’re protecting us, Mya. You’re protecting your dad, too.”

She shook her head. “No, my dad wants me to keep doing this. He says I’m the only hope for Earth, and it’s not true.” She cried even more, her words almost incoherent. “There are others. There is you. There is another that you know.”

“Who, Mya, who?”

“Jaxx.”

Drew almost stopped dead in his tracks. How did she know about Jaxx? And how could Jaxx possibly be able to do what Mya does, or help Earth? Was Jaxx even alive?

“My dad wants me to do it all. It’s impossible. He doesn’t trust anyone else. He doesn’t think others are like me. We have to get Jaxx here. We have to.”

“How? Where is he?” Drew jumped over a curb and onto a sidewalk. He could see the bar up ahead.

Mya shook her head, her tears wetting Drew’s neck. “I don’t know.” She tensed, her body curling into a ball as Drew held her. She let out another scream.

A loud blast and a massive ball of heat pressed into Drew. He stumbled and fell off the sidewalk, dropping Mya. He landed in the street, sliding on his side. He glanced up at a ball of fire erupting behind several buildings. It was in the direction they had come. It was in the direction of the ship he had just been on.

He pushed himself up. Mya was on the ground, her eyes closed, her body perspiring even more.

He scooped her up. He wanted to peek around the corner to see if it was indeed the ship that blew. In a way, he hoped it was. It would be another thing off his chest. Having a gang of people chasing him around the city, along with weird aliens trying to blow up the city, was too much.

He held Mya in his arms and sprinted to the bar. He pushed open the door, glad to see the lights were still on, and Megan in the corner breathing.

Or was she?

A pang hit his heart and he cautiously moved forward. The last thing he wanted was Megan to be dead.

“Megan?” he said.

No answer.

Her face was pale, her lips blue.

She was dead. She had to be. He looked at Mya, who he still had in his arms. She was fast asleep. Maybe she could bring Megan back. He wiggled Mya, tapped on her head, and poked her ribs.

No response.

Drew exhaled and sank to the floor, his forehead against his palm, his other arm holding Mya. “Mom, for once, answer me. Tell me what to do when I actually ask.”

He waited for a few seconds. But no whisper, no sweet words from beyond the veil came to him. He was alone.

A creak came from the stairs that led into the basement. He craned his neck. Another creak, and a hard boot landed on a stair. Someone was coming up.

Metallic laughter came from the staircase. No, it was robotic laughter. Another step up and a louder creak, and a man came into view. He was bald, had blue-ashen skin, his lips gray, his eyes dark. He wore a jumpsuit with chords and wires coming out of the suit and attaching to his neck and head. He was smeared with blue blood, or perhaps it was paint.

Most importantly, this guy wasn’t of this world.

Now, and most definitely now, a big-ass blunt was in order.

26

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Nearing Namuh Farms, Callisto

“This guy is like a damn kid without his candy,” said Fox, pressing his gun under Okbak’s chin. “Now, tell your troops to open up the walled city that we’re coming up to and to hold fire.”

Okbak, laying on the ground, his leg uncomfortably strapped into a seat, shook his head. “You give me more credits, and I’ll make that order.”

Fox pressed harder into Okbak’s chin. “You don’t give that order, and you can kiss all of your galactic credits goodbye.”

Okbak gave him an odd look.

“The Kelhoon are very literal, Fox,” said Jaxx.

Fox frowned.

“You said he could ‘kiss his galactic credits goodbye.’ He thinks you mean it literally.”

Fox leaned in close, so his eyes were level with Okbak’s. “Give the order for your troops to cease fire or I will take all your credits and shove them up your ass.”

Jaxx turned in his seat to stare out the cockpit window. A city, glowing in the night, had come into view. Slade’s energy signature was there, meaning Slade was hunkered down in a nice-looking, newly-built city that was teaming with green trees that didn’t match the small, spindly trees on the rest of Callisto.

Fox rolled his eyes at Okbak. “What I’m saying is if you don’t give the order to halt all battles with all Humans, then I’ll shoot you and kill you. You will die. Yes, die, die, die. And because you’ll be dead, you won’t be able to spend the fortune that Taz, the ugly-ass Agadon, gave you. Does that make a lick of sense, prime jerk-face?”

“You won’t kill me,” hissed Okbak. “I’m your shield.”

“You’ll be a pile of rubble if you don’t tell your people to stand down when we fly to this here city,” reiterated Jaxx.

Okbak merely stared at him.

“What I’m saying is that we’ll be shot down by the Kelhoon in that city if you don’t tell them to not, and I repeat, to not shoot us down. Got it?”

“How many damned times do we have to say the same damned thing before you get it through your damned scaly hide?” yelled Fox.

Okbak twitched his nose, most likely not liking the prospects of being blown to bits. He tapped the back of his ear. “This is prime chieftain, Kajka Okbak, your leader. I’m flying in a Kelhoon transport and nearing Namuh Farms. Open the gates, stand the cannons down, and allow me safe passage into the city.” He held a hand over his ear, then nodded. “It is done.”

Fox got up and walked back to the co-pilot seat, and sat next to Kiyo-zan. He patted Kiyo-zan’s back. “We’re safe to fly through.”

Jaxx closed his eyes, concentrating on Slade’s energy. “Slade is underground someplace. It’s under the largest skyscraper.” He opened his eyes and strolled to the cockpit. “Somebody else is with him. It’s a male. Human.”

Fox glared out the window. “Who would be with him?”

“I don’t know.” Jaxx rested his hands on Fox’s headrest, and pointed. “There. You see it? Land this bird right next to that big-ass skyscraper.”

The building was massive, and there would be no way Kiyo-zan could miss that. Kiyo-zan dipped his head. “Hai, soo desu ne.”

“You have to go through the city gates first,” said Fox.

Kiyo-zan lowered the craft, heading toward two doors in the city walls that were the same size and width of the city walls. He tapped a few holographic buttons, and monitored his approach by staring at a screen in front of him, and then out the window, and again at the screen.

Jaxx leaned forward. “Glad we didn’t try to fly over the walls. You see that?” A slight haze domed the city.

“A shield,” responded Fox. “We’d be a sizzling pile of shit if we tried to go through that.” He grunted and massaged his fists.

Jaxx could tell that all Fox had in mind was screwing Slade’s face up, most likely ending the guy’s life. It would be harder than Fox could ever imagine.

The city doors opened outward. Several Kelhoon soldiers stood on platforms built into the doors’ city side. They worked on holo-computers. They all stood when they saw the ship flying into the city. They punched their chests, then raised a fist in the air. Their leader had arrived.

Fox turned in his chair. “Your soldiers are saluting you, Okbak. Brings a tear to my eye.” He smirked and turned back around.

They flew past the open door, and over domed buildings, and by skyscrapers that were lined by empty streets. A hover-train zipped down a road, perhaps carrying a load of Kelhoon warriors, then curled around a building, and down another side street. A large castle stood in the middle of the city, surrounded by dull-looking warehouses.

Help me, Jaxx.

Jaxx cocked his head to the side. He turned toward Zara and took a seat. Zara was watching Okbak, making sure he was staying in line.

Find me.

A strange sensation came over Jaxx. He buried his head in his hands, searching for the mysterious voice. It was weak. Injured. Most importantly, the source of the voice was nearby.

An energetic map of the city came to Jaxx’s mind. He moved from building to building, scanning for life forms that were in danger.

In his mind, he came upon a crowd of Kelhoon congregated at a building close to one of the city’s massive walls. A flash of red, huddled in a room on the third floor of a six-story building, blinked on and off, then vanished. His gut twisted. That precious flash of red was soon to be overrun by the Kelhoon amassing on that floor.

It was Rivkah. But where were Bogle and Abdu? They should be with her. And how did her energy vanish like that?

Jaxx swung around, viewing the city through the cockpit window. He rushed to the cockpit, surveying the buildings. “There,” he motioned toward a building next to one of the massive side walls. “Rivkah is in there. Change direction. We’re heading to that building. We hover next to a third-floor window. I’ll tell you exactly where when we get there.”

Kiyo-zan pulled a sharp right, changing direction.

Jaxx ran back to the ship’s aft ramp. “Let’s back in toward the window. I’ll open the ramp when ready.”

Fox unstrapped and stood. “The hell we will.” He pounded his fist on the seat. “You turn this bucket back around. We stay on course and get Slade.”

“That will come next,” replied Jaxx, his hand resting on the ramp open switch. “I think I found Rivkah’s energy. She is in that building and needs our help.”

“You think you found her?” responded Fox. “All you have is that you think you found her? That’s the basis of us changing our plans?” He scowled. “Let me tell you something, Jaxx. I’ve been doing your shit, your favors, and have been your Goddamn major help during our time on Callisto.” Spit came out of his mouth when he spoke. He took slow steps toward Jaxx. “And this is how you thank me? No, this is how you thank us? By again doing what you want, instead of what we want?” He threw a punch in the air. “Not now, not today, Jaxx. We are going after Slade. That is the consensus.”

Jaxx dropped his hand from the open switch. “Kiyo-zan, stay on course. We’re getting Rivkah, then we’ll execute the plan that Fox has for us.”

Fox took another step toward Jaxx. “The hell we are.” He kicked a chair. “Zara, tell him what our plan is.”

“Throw me your phaser, Fox,” said Zara.

Fox stopped. “Why?”

“You are becoming too aggressive and cannot be trusted with a gun. Remember, we are all on the same team.”

“Try saying that to Jaxx-boy over there. He’s making decisions for us, not—”

Zara roared, her eyes like ice. “Get back into your seat, pink-skin, before I throw you in your seat. If it is Rivkah, we need her. She comes first. Your human, unevolved revenge comes on your own time, not ours.”

Fox straightened his lips, clenched his jaw, and flexed just about every muscle in his body. “Try putting me in my seat, pussycat.”

Jaxx, please come to my aid.

It was Rivkah, and to top it off, Fox was getting on his last nerve. He thrust his hand out, and a flash of energy rushed out of him like a river breaking through a damn. Fox lifted off of his feet and toppled over a row of cabin seats.

Jaxx strode over to Okbak, and leaned down, speaking into the lizard’s ear. “Tell your soldiers to exit all buildings, now.”

Okbak shook his head no.

“Then we have no choice.” He straightened, hands on his hips. “Kill him, Zara.”

As quick as lightning, Zara had her bamboo rifle off of her shoulder and pressed against the prime chieftain’s eye.

Okbak lifted his hand. “I will do as you ask.” He tapped behind his ear. “This is Kajka Okbak. Let—”

Fox came leaping over a chair and with a fist, slammed it hard against Okbak’s temple, and followed with a knee to the Kelhoon’s chin. Okbak’s eye slits closed and he collapsed unconscious.

Fox twisted, and lurched forward, planting his hand around Jaxx’s throat, and pushed him against the hull. “Turn this craft around. We’re going after Slade, not some chick you want to put your dick in.”

Jaxx shoved his forearms into Fox’s chest. Fox lost hold and flipped backward and landed on the cabin floor. Zara planted her foot on his stomach. “Don’t move, pink-cheeks. I’m saving you from your friend here. He has grown in strength and is much more powerful than you.”

This is my last calling, Jaxx. I can’t hold them off for long. Send help soon.

“Koko ni,” hollered Kiyo-zan.

Jaxx glanced up and out of the cockpit window. Kiyo-zan was right. They were at the building. “Third floor, eighth window to your left.”

Jaxx ran to the open switch and pounded it with his fist. A loud hiss and a ball of steam expelled at the ramp’s seals, and it began to open.

27

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

A group of Kelhoon stood behind her door, and Rivkah held her rifle as steady as possible despite her shaking, bloody hands. The door knob jiggled, then stopped. It was locked. Clicks and incomprehensible words mumbled loudly behind the door.

But Jaxx heard her calls. Jaxx was coming. She closed her eyes, balancing the rifle’s barrel on her knee. She proceeded to make herself energetically invisible again. After each thought packet she had sent Jaxx, she’d vanish herself in the ethereal realm just like Abdu had taught her.

But the Kelhoon had her dead to rights trapped in this room. Slade most assuredly knew where she was.

The door burst open. Rivkah aimed, her finger on the trigger. The doorway, and the portion of the hall in front of her, was empty. She closed one eye, targeting with her other, waiting.

A Kelhoon’s hand quickly appeared and came up into a throwing position, a round, metallic device in his hand.

Rivkah was faster.

She squeezed the trigger the second she saw the Kelhoon’s throw.

Fffwapooosh!

Her shot connected with the device the moment it left the Kelhoon’s hand. The doorframe and hall went up in a burst of flames, sending a wave of heat into Rivkah.

She rolled away, her injured hand stinging like no other. The doorframe and the carpet danced in a blazing inferno. If she didn’t get out of here soon, she’d burn up all over again.

She dashed out of the living room and toward one of the bedrooms. She’d have to blast through the walls and into another apartment and continue to do so from apartment to apartment until she found herself safe.

A yank on her collar, and she was pulled to the ground and on her back. Her rifle slipped out of her hand and tumbled to the floor. She gazed up, her forearms crisscrossed in front of her head in a defensive position.

A Kelhoon, his clothes and skin on fire, stood over her, a knife in his hand. He swung, the tip of the blade heading for her chest.

Rivkah flipped her legs up and wrapped her lower legs around the Kelhoon’s striking forearm, and twisted her hips. A snap, and the Kelhoon dropped to its knees, the knife falling from his hand. He screamed in a hissing fit of pain.

“It’s not only your arm I’m going to break, you asshole,” yelled Rivkah, moving to her feet and grabbing his knife. She dashed forward, shoving the blade through his chest. She pushed forward, slamming him into the wall, then jumped and spun in the air, her heel connecting to the side of his head. “It’s your chest, too.”

He stumbled into the growing fire, motionless as the flames consumed him.

Wapooo! Wapooo!

A second and third Kelhoon jumped into the room, guns blazing.

Rivkah brought up her Chi, doing her best to shield herself from the incoming phaser blasts, then curled over as one shot hit her stomach. She flipped back as another shot slammed into her chest, a streak of cold ice penetrating her torso.

She unclipped a KH Whistle from her belt. “If I die, you die.” She brought the knife to her mouth and clinched down on the blade, her hand readying to turn the detonation dial.

Another shot landed on her leg, taking her off her feet, a forth shot whizzed by her head and cracked into the wall behind her. The KH Whistle flew out of her hand, landing next to the large windows. She was unable to set the detonation switch. Falling to her side, she reached for it, but it was out of reach. She scrunched up into a ball, readying to take the brunt of the shots that were no doubt coming to end her life.

Ksshhhh!

A window broke. Glass splashed across the room, covering Rivkah, and riddling the two Kelhoon aiming their weapons at her.

Rivkah rolled to her back, clutching her chest and stomach, feeling the blood well up under her hands. But when she saw Jaxx, a moment of triumph came over her and for an instant, the pain travelling throughout her body subsided.

Jaxx held two phasers and with both his arms extended, he popped shots into the two Kelhoon standing over Rivkah.

Green blood splattered on the walls as the Kelhoon jerked back and dropped dead to the floor, twitching. Jaxx raced forward, sending another shot at a Kelhoon rushing through the doorway, ending that lizard’s miserable life.

A wall of fire consumed the hall and doorway, and Jaxx backed up. Anyone deciding to come in and go out this doorway would be insane.

Rivkah reached up with her hands, her arms shaking, her body going weak. “Help.”

Jaxx grabbed her, pulling her close to his body, and carrying her to the window. “Back the craft up, Kiyo-zan,” he shouted.

A cool wind blew against Rivkah as Jaxx took a step off the window sill and onto a ramp. He hurried her into the craft’s cabin and laid her onto a row of seats.

Her body was cold, her breaths short. She wanted to give up, to let life take her to the next stage, the stage of blackness, of nothingness.

Zara pushed Jaxx out of the way and touched the top of Rivkah’s head. The lioness nodded, her eyes sad. She unclipped a red vial from her chains and parted Rivkah’s lips. “Drink up, darling. Drink up.”

Warm liquid touched her tongue and made its way down her throat. Rivkah blinked, then blinked again. Her third blink didn’t open, and her eyelids remained closed. She took a long, deep breath, her body tingling, and her vision fading.

She lifted her head a few inches, whispering, “I think I’m dying.” She let her head fall back onto the seat cushion. “Save the kids, Jaxx. Please save them.”

28

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

The blue man stared at him, his eyes calculating who Drew was and why the intrusion, almost as if it was completely out of place for Drew to be in the bar, and not the other way around.

The alien pressed a few buttons on a console fitted on his chest. Several buttons lit up in different colors. He moved his gray lips, though no sound came out of his mouth.

Drew picked up Megan’s rifle and slowly stood, keeping his eyes on the big guy. He held the rifle in one arm, its weight almost too heavy. Drew backed up with Mya still in his arms. She stirred and yawned. She rubbed her eyes and rested her head back on Drew’s chest, her leftover sweat and tears cold against his neck, matching the icy feeling taking over Drew’s gut.

“Who are you?” asked Drew, his voice sharp, strong. The exact opposite of what he was feeling.

The blue man pressed more buttons on his chest console. “Is this your language?”

Drew nodded. “Yes, I understand what you’re saying.”

The man nodded in response. “And I understand what you’re saying.”

The guy’s voice had a robotic and metallic resonance. It held no emotion, no sympathy, no care, just like the guy’s face.

The blue fellow didn’t have a weapon in his hands, and from first glance, Drew didn’t spot one on the guy’s body. Drew lifted his rifle higher, aiming it at the man’s head.

“Why are you lifting a weapon in my direction, human? I did nothing to initiate combat. Or perhaps I scare you?” He glanced around the room. “None of my other comrades are here either, so you’re safe.”

“Who are you?” Drew walked a few paces closer to Megan, who still lay unconscious on the ground. “Better yet, what do you want?”

He patted his chest. “My name is ZEC-B5. My name is much longer than that, and has a different tone when speaking in my formal language. You can call me Zec, for short as I understand from my initial input that your culture has a tendency to cut longer names in half.” He washed his hands together, his big biceps and triceps bulging with every movement. “I’m not here to kill you, either. I’m here on a peace mission—” He paused. “My readings suggest you like peace? It’s a good word? Is that correct?”

Drew puffed out his lower lip. “Sure.”

“Fabulous,” he pumped his fists up in the air. “Let’s raise the roof, shall we?” A fake smile lifted his cheeks up. “I’m here on a peaceful mission to take that girl that you’re holding.” He put his hands out, waiting for Drew to drop her in his arms. “Come on. Give her to me.”

Drew pulled Mya closer to his body. “Uh…I’m not going to give you this little girl.”

“Humans are an understanding lot, able to see both sides of a story. Okay, so I will tell you ours.” He tapped a few buttons on his chest console. “Our story is simple. We can’t get inside this city without you handing her over to me. And it’s in your best interest to let us inside because we will modify this town, just like we are modifying this world, and make it a better place for all interested parties.”

“If you can’t get inside, then how did you get here,” replied Drew, backing away and toward the bar’s main door.

Zec stood as still as a rock. “Many of us have made it into this city, yes, but this girl keeps putting a stop to the majority of our attempts. Thousands of my kind have died in this portion of your Earth, and it is in this portion that this one mere girl has almost single-handedly defeated us. Yes, granted, a few of your military personnel have ended many of our people’s lives, killing a few of our reconnaissance troops, but like me, a few of our scouts have managed to slip under your shields without being shot.”

The front door burst open, and as quick as a flash, a small mounted cannon popped out from Zec’s back, lifted above his head, and shot a myriad of fiery projectiles at the door.

Phckjrrr! Phckjrrr!

The bar rumbled and Drew fell back, Mya in his arms, and landed on his rear.

The projectiles hit the front wall, ripping the wall off of its foundation, and throwing flaming wood and shards of glass onto the street.

Wapooo! Wapooo!

Two ion bolts flew through the smolder and struck Zec in the chest. Smoke rose from two puncture wounds and he stood his ground, touching the holes in his torso. Blue blood oozed and Zec touched the blood with his fingers. He lifted his hand to his face and stopped. He stood like a mannequin, unmoving, unwavering. A spark blasted out of the back of his head and he teetered forward, dropping to the floor like a dead weight.

A person in a battlesuit, Marine insignia design on the suit’s chest, walked through the dying fire where the bar’s front wall used to be. He held phaser guns in each one of his hands.

The Marine turned his head, noticing Drew. He walked forward.

Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche!

He stopped and holstered his weapons and brought his hands to his mask and helmet. A sizzling sound and a pop. Both items dropped to the floor. “How the hell did you get my daughter?”

It was Segarra, his eyes shooting venom at Drew.

Drew looked at Mya. She blinked her eyes and rested her hand on his chest, her soft touch soothing Drew for the moment. She yawned, glanced at her dad, and wiggled out of Drew’s arms. She landed on her feet and rushed her father. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!”

Segarra scooped her up in his arms, kissing her face. “How did you get out, young lady?”

She shrugged. “I’m not telling.”

“We need you back at headquarters, alright?”

Her shoulders drooped and her happy expression faded. She fiddled with his battlesuit’s chest plate armor, curiously scratching it. “I don’t want to go, papa.”

“You’re helping—”

Mya put a finger to her dad’s lips, shutting him up. “I’m hurting people. Not helping.”

“They aren’t people.”

Drew set his rifle down, leaning it against a wall. “Who are they? I mean, who is this blue guy?”

Segarra lifted his chin. His stern, angry expression came back to life. “The Agadon. They are an extraterrestrial race hell-bent on destroying every world in its path. And Earth was one of the worlds in its way and we can’t let them do any more damage.” He gestured to his daughter. “That’s why we have Mya. She can defend the United States from these attackers.”

“How could you possibly know who they are and what they are up to?” asked Drew.

“That’s classified,” replied Segarra.

“Even now?” Drew put his hands out. “We don’t even have a standing government, let alone a damn reason to classify anything, but it’s classified? People see these aliens and—” He stopped himself. The reason he came to the bar in the first place was to help Megan. He rushed over to her. “I need a doctor.”

“Let me down, daddy,” said Mya. Segarra did and Mya walked over to Megan. “Let me do it, Drew.”

Drew leaned back and Mya placed her hands on Megan’s knees and closed her eyes. “She’s here to rule with you, Drew.”

Segarra gave Drew a hostile look, then brought his eyes back to Mya. “No, cupcake. He’s not here to rule over anyone.”

Mya took in a deep breath, her body lifting off the ground. “Megan is trying to leave her body. She can’t if she is to rule with Drew. I’ll ask if she wants to come back.”

Drew’s eyes went wide. This girl was levitating like it was no big deal. “How are you doing that?”

Mya didn’t respond, keeping her focus and concentration.

Drew watched, a million questions popping into his mind. What would he be ruling with Megan, and over who? Megan wouldn’t be ruling anything if she didn’t get fixed and quickly. Her skin was ashen and she was fading fast, and even Drew being an untrained doctor could see Megan was taking her last breaths.

Drew’s heart pumped faster and he rubbed his hands together. He barely knew Megan, but still, he wanted her to survive.

Mya came out of her hover and rested cross legged on the floor. She raised one hand, her eyes remaining closed, and wrote something in the air. A violet haze, the same color and fog-like thickness around her in Doctor Andrea’s ship, was forming around her again. “All sickness,” explained Mya. “Begins in a person’s energy field. It is easy to repair. A wound, on the other hand, is different. When a person is wounded, the hurt part of the body, along with the energy around the rest of the body, is affected at the same time. So, I have to ask the body to remember how it was before it got hurt. And when it finds what it was, I take that memory and replace it over the new, unhappy energy memory. Does that make sense? That’s how it can heal faster. Like, really fast.”

Drew puffed out his lower lip. Segarra folded his arms over his chest. Mya was a smart girl, but the words coming out of her mouth were way above her age level.

Nonetheless, as a genius, Drew was into quantum physics, so it made sense to him. Segarra, on the other hand, didn’t seem to care.

Megan’s cheeks grew pink, her lips pinker. She was coming out of it.

Drew stood straighter. “She’s getting better.”

Mya took her hands off of Megan. She stood and twirled around, happy as a lamb. “There are more like me, dad.” She pointed to Drew. “Like his uncle, Jaxx. He’s like me, too.”

Drew bent down to Megan, observing her eyes. Her eyelids were still closed, though her breathing was calm, healthy. He glanced over his shoulder. “How do you know my uncle?”

“He has come to me several times. He is busy right now, so he doesn’t respond to me. I think he is watching through my eyes to see how Earth is doing. I don’t show him much though. I don’t want to scare him, but he has to come now. I hear his thoughts and his thoughts say to himself that Earth is protected because people like me are here, but we’re newcomers, we’re of the new energy coming into Earth. We are learning. He is the one to teach us. But he stays there. Why does he stay there?”

“Where?” asked Drew.

“Callisto,” replied Mya. “It’s a moon.”

Drew touched Megan’s face. It was warming up. “He’s not on Callisto. That’s the Jupiter moon.” And Drew knew too much about it, having broken the story just before his father, Slade-asshole-Roberson, took to the stars.

Mya spun in a circle again. “He is there with your papa.”

Drew huffed, his chin falling to his chest. “He’s with Slade?” Of all things, he would never have pegged Jaxx as a traitor. And how could his uncle teach anything besides archaeology? He wouldn’t know the first thing about energy and what Mya was doing with hers, healing people, and killing Agadons. Jaxx was a nice guy, but energy manipulating? Hell no.

Mya stopped in mid-spin, setting her foot down hard on the floor. She sucked in a quick breath. “No, no. He didn’t hear me and he is going to get Slade. I don’t want him to. Don’t do it, Jaxx. Another will do it for you. Just trust your friends.” She looked glossy eyed at Drew. “He is on his way to kill your papa.”

Drew didn’t know if he should believe her or chalk it up to a child’s imagination. “Is there a way we can get to Callisto, Segarra?”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t be allowed.”

Mya touched Drew’s forearm. “The Agadon will try one more time to take over this city. No one can leave. We need you to rule with Megan, then we can go to another city, and you can rule together.”

“What do you mean by this rule thing?” The marijuana shop was down the street. Maybe he could run in there and take a few drags of ganja. The buzzing sound outside turned off and Drew shifted in his position. “What just happened?”

Segarra gasped and turned, running into the street. Mya chased after him, and Drew followed, jumping several burnt two by four wood studs lying on the ground between the bar and the sidewalk. He rushed out into the street and glanced up. His shoulders drooped.

They were shit out of luck.

The shield was gone. Someone had switched it off, and the Agadon knew. A handful of crafts were heading their way.

29

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

Jaxx lightly slapped Rivkah’s cheeks. “Wake up.” He pressed his hand on her neck, feeling for a pulse. It was faint. He pressed his lips together in a straight line, his shoulder’s tensing, holding in a yell. “Is she going to die?” Jaxx didn’t want her to die.

Zara got on her knees, sitting next to Rivkah, and nodded. “Probably.”

Jaxx’s heart dropped. He took a shaky breath. “What can I do?” He bit his lip. Rage burned in his gut, rising to the surface. He wanted to throw every damn Kelhoon who had done this to her over a cliff. But most of all, he wanted to make sure the one who was responsible paid for this—Slade.

“Let her pass.” Zara put both hands over Rivkah’s heart. “Go get Slade and let me work on her. I’ll make sure green-scales over there will remain in line.”

Jaxx gazed in Okbak’s direction, his question pointed at Zara, his eyes narrowed on the green-faced bastard who was at the tip of a lot of his problems. “Rivkah talked about children. What did she mean?” Maybe he could do something right for Rivkah, maybe something that Rivkah would be proud of.

Zara shook her head. “I don’t know what she meant by the children.”

The prime chieftain stared back, his lips turning up in a smile. What was he grinning about? The children?

The craft descended just outside one of the tallest skyscrapers and Kiyo-zan readied it for a landing. Jaxx kept his eyes on Okbak. “What do you know about the children, Kajka Okbak?”

“My lips are sealed.”

Jaxx took his eyes off of Okbak. He didn’t have time at the moment to deal with the asshole. Slade was on his mind. He needed to get to him. He stood, pointing at Fox, who lay unconscious in an aisle between two rows of seats. “What happened to him?”

“He made too much noise. Do all you humans complain as much as Fox? Regardless, I had to knock him out,” replied Zara. “When he wakes up, I’ll tell him you’re looking for Slade. He’ll be happy…for once.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“Jaxx,” said Zara, her eyes fierce. “Trust me. Trust your team. We won’t let you down.”

Jaxx nudged Fox, seeing if he’d wake. He didn’t. And why, out of anyone, should Jaxx trust Fox? The guy wanted to leave Rivkah to the Kelhoon, to leave her to her death in order to have a fight with Slade, and that was no less than ten minutes ago.

“Fox has done more for you on this moon than you can imagine,” continued Zara. “He has his internal wounds, his anger issues, but he happens to care for you, even if he doesn’t know it. He has your back, and I say this knowing he tends to bring drama all the time. Again, trust me.”

The craft jostled as it touched down. The ramp vibrated and opened.

Jaxx touched his phaser and walked toward the ramp. “Kiyo-zan, care to join me?”

“Hai, Kuru.” Kiyo-zan jumped up, his cape whipping when he spun to face Jaxx. Zara tossed her bamboo rifle at Kiyo-zan and in one quick motion, he caught it and strapped it over his shoulder. He bowed. “Arigato Gozaimasu.”

Okbak grunted, his foot still caught between the two seats, the restraining belt wrapped around his lower leg. “You have caused a war between the Kelhoon and Agadon.”

That’s what Jaxx wanted. He wanted to tell Okbak that he was glad a war between the two races was underway. The Kelhoon were pricks and so were the Agadon. It was that simple. They both deserved to blow the shit out of each other. But he needed the Kelhoon on his side to fulfill a prophecy. Without the Kelhoon, it would be impossible to close the pyramid network, and open it back up. “I’m sorry, Okbak.” He wasn’t, but Okbak didn’t know any better.

“I’ve sent all troops en-route to the battle. None will bother you in this city. I can’t afford that. After you do what you need to do here, you will leave this city and this moon and go home. You have no claim on Callisto. It is ours.”

Jaxx didn’t argue. Although he wouldn’t give this world to anyone the likes of Okbak, there was no point arguing about it. After all was said and done, he would fight alongside the Atlanteans for their right to this moon.

Jaxx nodded and rushed down the ramp. Kiyo-zan followed him.

The warmth of the outside terraforming lamps touched his skin when his feet hit the concrete outside his ship. Up ahead was the skyscraper and they ran up the stairs to the entrance and threw open the glass doors. Their boots clanked on the lobby floor—a lobby filled with exotic potted plants, a reception desk, and fancy couches and fancier chairs.

Jaxx closed his eyes and scanned the area. It carried him deep under the building until he came to an enormous cave-like facility. Slade was down there, moving around. Another energy signature accompanied Slade and both energy signatures were in a hurry. They had to know Jaxx was coming, and soon.

“Over there.” Jaxx motioned toward a few elevators. “But what am I going to do when I get down there?” He had to get to Slade. The guy had done his best to eradicate Rivkah. It was time for his own eradication.

Jaxx halted for a moment. Maybe Slade knew what Rivkah was talking about. The children? Maybe that’s why she was in the city in the first place?

“Kare o tsukamae, kare o tsuki kara hanareru,” said Kiyo-zan, reaching the elevator.

Jaxx pressed the down arrow. “You think we should capture him and get him off the moon?” Then what? Interrogate him about the children? Next, throw him out in space so he won’t hurt anyone anymore? All of this was easier said than done. This was Slade. If he had to kill the guy, then so be it. If he could capture him to glean some information, then so be it as well.

The elevator door dinged and opened. They stepped in and the elevator quickly descended, making its long journey into the depths of the moon’s upper crust. The elevator dinged a second time.

Cool air swept across them as the elevator opened up. They took their first footsteps out of the elevator, and a pale light highlighted the cavern. The cavern wasn’t a cavern though, like Jaxx thought it would have been. It was a dome with smooth ceilings, smooth walls, and a smooth floor.

He put his hand on Kiyo-zans chest when he saw it, stopping the Taiyonian in his tracks. “What in the world?”

A big pyramid, mirror black, sat smack dab in the middle of the facility.

Kiyo-zan lifted his arm out in front of him and his gold bracelet around his wrist made a snapping sound, simultaneously materializing a shield.

A clank came from inside the pyramid and echoed across the dome. Kiyo-zan went into a defensive stance, gesturing for Jaxx to stand behind him.

Someone was inside the pyramid, doing God knows what. With one sweep of the room’s energy field, Jaxx could see that Slade and the other guy occupied it, but it didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

Jaxx and Kiyo-zan quietly walked forward. Jaxx put his hand on Kiyo-zan’s back, “Back up.”

Two giants, no less than twenty-feet tall, stood at the pyramid’s doorway, spears in hand. Their eyes were closed and they breathed as if they were in meditation.

Jaxx tugged Kiyo-zan’s upper cape, and took a few more steps back. The giants disappeared as if they had never been there. They took a step forward. And, just like before, the giants stood next to the pyramid entrance.

“You’re going in and out of a higher octave, Jaxx,” said Slade, walking out of the pyramid. He had a strange-looking sword in his hand—a gold, shining hilt, a straight, long blade extending up through the middle, with two blades intertwining around the straight blade. Slade winked, running his finger up the broad portion of a blade. “In other words, once you pass that point you just passed, you’re in a higher octave within the third dimension.” He smirked. “This pyramid here lifts the energy waves by the harmonic sounds coming from every stone it’s built from. Pretty clever, huh?”

Maybe that was also why Jaxx hadn’t seen the pyramid the moment he stepped out of the elevator. And harmonic resonance? That’s exactly how the pyramids around Earth operated. Hit one stone with a hammer, and it would resonate like a chime. This pyramid obviously chimed even more.

Jaxx took a step forward. “Hey, how about you come on our side and we close this pyramid network and get on with our lives?” It was worth a shot.

Slade shook his head. “I’m a business man now, Jaxx. Any messing with the pyramid network is bad for my bottom line.”

“What’s your business?” asked Jaxx. Of course, this prick would have a side hustle that wouldn’t benefit any Being in the galaxy besides himself.

“None of your business.” He winked again.

“And where are the rest of the politicians?”

“The politicians?” Slade lifted his shoulders. “Let’s just say we had quite the disagreement. You won’t see them coming to Callisto any time soon.” He lifted the sword in the air and twirled, swinging it around, practicing with it. A hum came off of it and a wave of rainbow colored energy flew several feet in front of the blades and behind them. The energy sparked when it touched the ground. “Some pretty bad-ass weapons are inside that pyramid behind me. You care to dance, Jaxx? You’ve been that clichéd thorn in my side since the moment I met you.”

Dance? Jaxx would love to dance; dance this shit-hole’s head off. Jaxx had been a thorn in Slade’s side? Screw that. Slade was an elephant tusk in Jaxx’s side. “We can dance after you answer my question.” He began running the Chi up his legs and to his solar plexus. “What business are you trying to run here?” He clenched his fists, knowing he wasn’t going to like the answer.

“The Kelhoon and I have an agreement. We’re running a farm and my product involves importing and exporting product quickly through the pyramid network. Catch my drift? So, you ain’t touching that pyramid network with a ten-foot pole.”

Jaxx tilted his head, knowing he wasn’t getting the entire answer. “Does your business involve children?”

Slade laughed. “Very perceptive, Jaxx. You must understand that humanity is about to come to an end. The human race will be extinct soon, so what I’m doing is stepping in evolution’s way, and keeping our race alive. Which is why I started this farm.”

Jaxx lowered his eyes, baring his teeth, his Chi beginning to rise into his hands. “Tell me exactly what you’re going to be farming, Slade. Stop sidestepping my questions.”

“Children. Lots of children. Some will live as slaves, which is a bummer for them, but they will be keeping the human race alive and well in the Universe. The rest will be food for the Kelhoon and other sick-ass ET’s across the galaxy that tend to like our children for food. Can’t be helped. It was part of the deal. We have to sacrifice some if we’re going to survive at all as a species. The Kelhoon and their buddies have been eating our youth for a long time, Jaxx. It’s about time that a human took a piece of that pie and made it work for us, don’t you think?” Slade took a flying leap toward Jaxx, spinning in the air, the sword humming with his motion. Slade let go of the sword.

Kiyo-zan pushed Jaxx back, and held up his shield.

A rainbow energy came off the sword as it spun toward Kiyo-zan and Jaxx. It shattered Kiyo-zan’s shield and a loud gong-like sound reverberated off the walls. Pieces of the shield shot into Kiyo-zan’s chest and face like a hundred darts hitting their target.

Kiyo-zan sucked in a quick breath when the sword came next and sliced through his chest. His mouth flew open and he gave an incredulous gaze down at the sword. He jerked back, his hands around the blade, blood spattered all over his chest.

Horror flooded Jaxx, his face contorted in disbelief. He rushed over to Kiyo-zan and reached for his friend, catching him in his fall. “No, no. Kiyo-zan.” Jaxx lowered him to the ground, looking over his bloodied friend. Kiyo-zan gasped for air. Jaxx touched the sword, ready to pull it out, then thought better. “I’ll get you help. Zara can fix you.” His voice shook, his own body knowing that what he was saying couldn’t happen, especially with Slade in the same room with them.

Slade!

Jaxx quickly turned and faced Slade.

Slade stood with his arms crossed, a smirk on his face.

Kiyo-zan wrapped his hand around Jaxx’s, and coughed, wincing in pain, shivering. “Aishiteimasu.”

Jaxx touched his forehead to Kiyo-zan’s. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. All of this.”

Kiyo-zan shook his head, then lifted his hand and touched Jaxx’s face. He gently slapped Jaxx’s cheek, smiling. He turned his head and opened his eyes wide, reaching for the ceiling. A larger grin grew, and Kiyo-zan let out a last breath. He dropped his arms and his eyes went lifeless, though his smile remained.

Jaxx slowly lowered Kiyo-zan’s head to the floor, a lump the size of a boulder in his throat. He stood, energy balling up in his hands. He lunged forward, sending every piece of hatred and sadness he could muster, sending it like an ion blast at Slade.

Slade turned to run, to get out of the way and dodge, but was picked up off his feet and lifted into the air, hovering. Jaxx raised his hand toward the domed ceiling and Slade rose higher. Jaxx rushed forward and Slade dropped out of the air, his arms thrashing about, his legs kicking left and right. Slade was nearly to the ground when Jaxx jumped, spun, and swung his leg around in a kick to Slade’s torso.

Slade yelped and tumbled backward, sliding across the floor and into the pyramid’s base.

Jaxx was more powerful down here and near this pyramid. He was like a giant himself. He glanced at his arm. It was glowing. In fact, his entire body was. He glanced at the pyramid. A haze of energy joined him and the pyramid together.

Slade pushed himself off the floor, his hands in a ball, his body shaking in rage. He stomped and threw energy at Jaxx.

Jaxx moved out of the way and everything changed to slow motion, everything but himself.

A sensation came over him like a waterfall of energy draping over him. Inside, Jaxx traced his energy through his own DNA strands. His DNA was designed to open and close the pyramid network. He was the key. This he already understood; however, something was reminding him, whispering through every cell in his body, screaming that he was connected to each and every pyramid in the galaxy.

Slade rushed at him in slow motion, running with all his might, but Jaxx was an octave speed higher than Slade due to this pyramid giving off a wave of energy to Jaxx, and to Jaxx only.

And, as the DNA and key holder, he knew he was partnered with this pyramid.

“Pyramid,” he said. “Wake the giants. They’ll know what to do.”

Slade pulled out a knife, this one like none any Jaxx had ever seen. It was arrow tipped, jagged at the edges, and the hilt was made from ivory. Slade’s face screwed up in fury, his eyes like demons ready to burn some witches at the stake.

Slade lifted his knife above his head, ready to strike down and end Jaxx’s life.

Jaxx turned, his forearm coming up to block Slade’s action.

Slade lurched back, his eyes like saucers, and blood squirted out of his mouth. He was lifted into the air, a spear pierced through his abdomen. He dropped his knife and looked behind him, his face more stunned than Jaxx’s.

A giant was wide awake, his eyes determined, his body tensed with every muscle flexed. He held Slade up at the end of his spear, and the giant brought him closer to his eyes, looking the small man up and down.

The giant faced Jaxx.

“Let him down,” ordered Jaxx. “And take your spear out of him.”

Slade shook his head, his face twisted in pain. “I’ll die.” His voice was raspy, and blood dripped from his lips and down his chin.

“You’ll die either way. My way will be swift.”

The giant put his foot on Slade’s back and pushed Slade forward while pulling his spear backward. Slade slipped off the spear and fell like Jello to the ground. He took a few breaths, doing his best to turn over, to push up, to do whatever he could to make it to his feet. Maybe to do one more terrible thing to Jaxx before he saw blackness forever.

His muscles couldn’t bear his weight and he collapsed.

Dead.

The place was silent, but for Jaxx’s breathing.

“Jaxx, are you okay?”

Jaxx sucked in air, startled, his mouth in the shape of an “o”, and spun to his right. The President of the United States, Craig Martelle, was walking toward him, his face full of concern.

30

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

“Turn those mother shields back on,” yelled Segarra into his battlesuit’s mic. He threw his helmet on and clicked his battlesuit’s mask in place. “Take Mya and find a place she can hide and do her thing.” He unclipped two phasers, one on each hip, and aimed them at the sky. “Die, die.”

Wapooo! Wapooo!

Segarra sent ion blasts at the incoming craft, hitting the first one in the cockpit window. It spun, slamming into another starfighter, and both veered off behind buildings, impacting the ground. An eruption like a volcano shot above the city skyline, quickly shrinking down a few seconds later.

“Go,” yelled Segarra. “Mya has to do her energy thing. Go, go.”

Several men in battlesuits much like Segarra’s came rushing around a corner. They targeted the craft and whipped weapon’s fire toward the heavens.

But what about Megan?

Drew grabbed Mya into his arms and ran into the bar, racing through the portion where a front wall used to be. “Can you do your energy thing in here, Mya?”

Krackowoooooosh! Krackowooooosh!

A ball of heat nearly tripped Drew to the ground, and he stumbled forward, catching himself against the bar. Mya screamed, her eyes looking out at the violence in the street. She pushed off Drew’s chest, squirming herself free, and ran after her father. Drew spun on his heels.

Two large puncture holes were in the street and crumbled asphalt lay everywhere. Segarra and several of his men were on their backs. The asphalt covered them and smoke rose from their battlesuits. Mya grabbed her dad’s armored leg and began pulling, getting nowhere. Drew dashed to Mya’s side as a rumble crackled across the sky, and booms rocked the city. More explosions lit the main streets, and a few small buildings went up in flames, others crumbling to the ground.

Drew gripped Segarra’s other leg and pulled, dragging him across the road and into the bar.

“Daddy,” cried Mya. Tears filled her eyes, and for a fleeting moment, Drew could see that Mya understood the pains of war, what death really was, and that her mother had indeed been killed. He didn’t know how he knew this, but he did. And she didn’t want the same thing to happen to her dad.

Segarra’s arm moved to his facemask and he flipped his visor up. Sweat dripped down the sides of his temples and he puffed out his cheeks, patting his chest armor plate. “And the congress frowned on spending trillions of dollars on black ops projects.” He put up a thumb. “They wouldn’t be frowning if they wore one of these black ops battlesuits while being bombed by aliens.”

Mya jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Let’s just hide, Daddy. Please.” Her tears came faster, her sobs deeper.

He pushed himself into a seated position, wiping her tears with his robotic suit hands, leaving black streak marks on her face.

Krackowooooosh!

Everyone ducked as another loud blast shook the building. This one was farther away, but nonetheless, another street or building had most likely been torn to shreds.

“Stop playing dead,” Segarra ordered into his mic. The Marines outside and laying on the ground, stirred and rose to their feet. “Fan out to the east. My visor HUD readings show that Echo company is in bad shape.” Segarra made the sign of a cross in the air as his men rushed down an alleyway, moving east. “Playing dead actually works with the Agadon. Our battlesuits hide all body heat and circulatory functions from the outside world. We act dead, and the Agadons move on. Don’t try that outside these suits, though.” He put his hand up for Drew to grasp it. “Help me up.”

Drew interlocked his hand with Segarra’s. He leaned back, helping the Master Sergeant to a standing position.

A faint cough echoed in the room. “Megan,” said Drew, hurrying to her side. She was growing stronger, but still unconscious. “We have to get Megan out of here.”

“She’ll be a drain on resources. She’ll slow us down too much. Put that girl in the basement and we’ll come to get her if we live through this mess,” replied Segarra.

Mya touched her dad’s fingertips with her own. “She and Drew are important. They will rule.”

Segarra gave her a pinched expression, clearly frustrated. “Mya, stop saying such nonsense.” It was obvious Mya had told him this before.

Mya stomped her foot. “Don’t be stubborn, Daddy.”

Segarra went to say something, then covered his mouth. He swallowed, holding back a tear. “Your mother used to say that, Mya.” He bent down on one knee, then flinched and closed his eyes tight when another blast rocketed against the ground somewhere in the vicinity. “Okay, but we have to hurry. You have my permission to do your thing on her.”

Mya nodded slowly and made her way over to Megan. Her shoulders lifted and her body tensed as another concussion somewhere in the distance shook the bar. Mya made a squeaking sound in surprise, glancing over her shoulder and up at the ceiling. The hanging lights swung back and forth.

“It’s okay, Mya. Do your energy thing.” Segarra gave a sideways grin. “That’s what we in the military call her stuff.” He used his fingers to show quote marks in the air.

Mya put her hands on Megan’s knees, just like she did when she helped that Chinese soldier with his broken nose back in Anderle’s old, underground hideout in Tennessee.

Megan began to stir, her eyes blinking. This was the second time in twenty minutes that Mya had worked on her. Maybe it would do the trick.

Megan yawned. “What’s going on?” A boom sounded from several streets away. Megan dropped her head and a picture fell from the wall, shattering on the floor. “Oh, yeah. The alien invasion shit.”

“Now, Mya,” said her dad in a strict tone. “Do your other energy thing.”

Mya shook her head like a beaten dog.

Segarra’s posture stiffened. Clearly, he didn’t like being told no. “Now, Mya, we’ve talked about this. You’re the only one who can defeat these evil-doers out there.”

Mya shook her head a second time. “No more killing. I don’t like it.” She rubbed her heart. “It hurts me here. Every time. And it hurts them too. They are learning just like us, but a little slower. Our learning is accelerating.”

Segarra’s eyes didn’t hide his confusion. “Accelerating? Who is accelerating?”

“Humans. Me, you, and all people on Earth. We are learning so much, Daddy. So much.”

“Mya,” said her father with a warning tone. “Do as you’re told.”

“We can close the doors and not let the mean people come through with their spaceships anymore, Daddy. There are more around this city that are like me and we’ll be meeting with Jaxx soon. We’ll connect like polka-dots and win.” She threw her hands up in excitement, then died down a moment later, seeing her dad didn’t respond in a like manner.

“Again, Mya, those are fantasies. You are the only one,” continued Segarra. “Now do as you’re told, young lady.”

Mya’s chin quivered. “I’m hurting people.”

“They are not people,” continued her father. “They are evil-doers, like in a game you play on television. You remember those games? Those weren’t really people, more like cartoons.”

Mya lowered her eyes. “I’m supposed to help people, not kill them, Papa.”

Segarra bent down and lifted her chin. “Listen, I know what you have said and I’ve heard your arguments before.” Phaser fire zipped outside and Segarra turned in its direction, then brought his eyes back to Mya’s. “We have a whole lot of people to protect, and you’re going to protect them now, do you understand?”

Mya nodded.

“You’re bullying her,” said Megan, her legs wobbly as she leaned on Drew.

Segarra shot her an angry look. “No, I’m being a protecting servant for the United States of America and this city. My daughter, believe it or not, can manipulate energy in a way to kill these bastards.” He brought his eyes back to his daughter. “It’s our obligation to help these people, even if it means hurting the bad guys. Do you understand, Baby Doll?”

Mya nodded again, her lips curling downward.

Drew cleared his throat. “Let me get her to a safe place.” A safe place was looking more or less like getting her away from her father.

Segarra dipped his head. He kissed his daughter’s cheek. “I love you, Mya.” He closed his visor and rushed off toward the battle.

Drew picked Mya up and turned to Megan. “Where to, Beautiful?” He caught his breath. That slipped out.

Megan put her hands on her hips. She didn’t like being called beautiful, or probably any other name other than her own by a guy she barely knew. “My name’s Megan. And that’s all the name you need to call me.” She pointed across the street. “We high tail our assess away from here and to the train station. There is an old underground bunker there that I bet people have occupied by now.”

“Let’s go,” said Drew, running out of the bar, covering his head with one hand and holding Mya with the other.

Megan quickly took the lead, and they moved down an alleyway between two old-time bars. Phaser fire and machine gun sounds riddled the city, almost taking over the thunderous starfighters flying overhead.

Megan peeked around a corner and put her hand up. “More fighting.” A dozen Marines in battlesuits retreated behind a two-story, brick building. Megan’s eyes went wide. “Back up, back up.”

She practically pushed Drew over as she backtracked, heading the way they came. A handful of Agadon warriors, their cannons in hand, chased the Marines.

“Okay, we’ll go to the train station another way, and—”

“No,” said Mya, interrupting Megan. “It feels icky over there.”

Megan cocked her head at Mya as they made it around the corner. They were on the same road they were on a minute ago. Megan’s bar was no more than a hundred feet away. “I promise, we will be safe. We’ll just go another way.”

Mya grabbed Drew tighter. “Okay.” There wasn’t any confidence in her reply.

Megan raced down the sidewalk, and Drew followed. They passed broken buildings, stepped around shattered glass, and side-stepped fallen brick and cement.

A loud roar rumbled across the heavens and Drew looked up. Giant ships the size of cities were coming through the clouds. He stopped. “That doesn’t look promising.”

Megan glanced up as well. “It looks absolutely horrifying.”

Mya closed her eyes, concentrating. “They are trying to find me again. And they will find me, and they want to have me forever. If they get me, then you two can’t rule.”

“What are we ruling, Mya,” responded Megan, her eyes still up at the sky, more starfighters inbound. She backed up, bumping into Drew.

Mya put her hand out, touching Megan. “Everyone here and farther away. A new, pretty time is coming for us if we close the doors that lets the mean people in.”

Krackowoooooosh-chk-chk!

A building a few blocks down took a massive hit. The roof caved in and wood and cement was thrown everywhere. A burst of cloudy debris rose from the center.

“Crafts are heading right for us,” said Drew. “We have to go.”

A cluster of starfighters, picking up incredible speed, flew closer and closer. The ships’ noses pointed down, and any minute they’d be on top of Drew’s position.

Vvvvvvvvzzzzzzzzzz!

The city shield turned on, a massive transparent-white dome covered the whole of the town, shining brilliantly like the greatest beacon of hope Drew could have ever imagined.

The starfighters pulled back.

Krackowoooooosh!

A starfighter sped into the shield, electricity shot outward and spread around the shield like veins popping from someone’s forehead, and the craft buckled in two. Flames streaked up from the impact and shot outward. The ship grew into a ball of fire, then the next ship hit the shield, and the next.

Balls of flames and starfighter remains burst into the sky as the shield took more crafts, burning more Agadon pilots to dust, in a blink of an eye.

“Holy shit,” yelled Drew, his eyes reflecting the fire show above.

“Follow me,” said Megan, almost out of breath from what she was watching.

They hurried down the sidewalk, passing vacant shops and restaurants, and ran across a huge lawn that led to a building that looked like a small, square White House. “Keep going,” screamed Megan.

Brat-tat-tat-tat-tat! Wapooo! Rat-tat-tat-tat-tat!

More machine gun fire and phaser blasts filled the city. The ships couldn’t bomb them at the moment or fly into the metropolis and strafe the streets, buildings, or people thanks to the shield, but Agadon soldiers were still inside the dome. The shield didn’t have the ability to push them out, but the Marines sure as hell were trying.

“Up ahead,” Megan pointed out. A gorgeous, German-style built lodge, massively wide and three story’s tall, was a hundred yards away. A mountain range topped with white peaks stood far behind it. “That’s the train station.”

Drew carried Mya, his arms burning from the weight. Even though she wasn’t heavy, Drew wasn’t terribly strong either.

Mya shook her head. “No, stop. We can’t go in there.”

Drew halted, though Megan continued toward the station.

More shots rang out.

“Let’s go, Drew.” Megan was panicked, her eyes wild.

Drew held his ground. “It’s best we take Mya’s advice on this. Let’s trust her.” He lowered his chin, whispering in Mya’s ear. “Where to, Mya?”

“It’s too late.” Mya wiggled out of his arms and dropped to the ground. “They were waiting for me.”

Drew looked around, his hands out. “Who?”

Megan jumped up and down, throwing her arms out toward the station. “No time. Let’s find cover in the bunker underneath the station.”

Metallic laughter came from a building next to them. The door popped off its hinges and flung out onto the sidewalk, cracking in half. Drew jumped. An Agadon stepped out of the building and into view, a large gun its his hand.

A second laugh. Drew turned around. Several Agadon were exiting buildings and coming forward, all holding larger-than-life guns.

More laughter filled the street, and more than twenty Agadon assholes piled out of the train station. Again, holding weapons.

Mya, Drew, and Megan were surrounded.

“That’s the one that leads them all,” said Mya, pointing to the largest of the Agadon.

“How do you know?” asked Drew, his heart racing, his mind doing its best to calm himself down. One way or another, he was probably a goner, and Megan with him.

Mya shrugged, her lower lip protruding, her eyes sad. “He was in my dream last night. He told me to come to him.” She looked down. “I’m going to go to him.” She ran toward the Agadon.

Megan lunged forward, reaching for Mya and missing. “What is she doing?”

Drew, hands shaking, feet sweating, did everything in his power not to rush after Mya. There was a sense in him that told him that Mya knew what she was doing.

“That’s a good human,” said the leader. He put his arms out and picked Mya up, holding her like any father would hold a six-year-old. He glanced around at his men. “Don’t kill these two until Mya—”

He fell to his knees, Mya still in his arms, her feet now touching the pavement. He let go of her, his face contorting in agony. He grabbed his head and screamed. Mya sat crosslegged and folded her hands in front of her, tears streaming down her cheeks. She shivered, then arched her back, her mouth open wide. A pulse pounded out of her chest, slicing toward the shield, bouncing off and surrounding the entire city like a tornado.

Everything went silent. And everything warmed, and calmed, and a bird chirped, and another.

Drew was holding Megan, and she holding him. They jerked back and let go of each other.

“What happened?” Megan asked, her eyes darting from one dead Agadon to another. “How did they—” Her mouth gaped. All of the Agadon surrounded them were on their sides. Dead.

Mya was on the ground rapidly blinking.

Drew walked quickly to Mya and bent down, snapping his fingers next to her ear. “Mya, wake up. Please, wake up. You’re safe now. You’re okay.” He sat down and crossed his own legs. He pulled Mya into his lap and wrapped his arms around her. She was freezing, her skin like ice, and her body trembling. “Megan, help me warm her up.”

Megan was dazed and slowly made her way to Drew, surprised at what just happened. “I’ve heard she could do stuff like that, but never in my wildest dreams did I think it was true. I thought Carl was just paranoid believing that she could defeat the aliens on her own, or that she was one of them.” She sat in front of Drew and ran her hands up and down Mya’s back.

Mya took a deep breath, coming to. “I only get cold for a little bit. I am warming up now.” And it was true, her body was indeed heating up. She dropped her forehead onto Drew’s chest, wiping a tear from her eye. “I hurt them again. The leader is dead, isn’t he?”

Drew eyed the guy and put his hand on Mya’s head, consoling her. “He is.”

Mya sniffed. “Without him, they will leave. But, there are more of him on other ships. They are a lot of them in our world and more will come for me. That’s why we need Jaxx. He is supposed to come, but doesn’t hear my calls very good.”

A roar picked up over head and Mya was right, the ships were leaving, moving south.

“What can my uncle do to help everyone here? Why is he so important?” inquired Drew.

“Without him, we can’t close the doors.”

“What doors?” asked Megan.

“The ones that lets the bad people come in and fly around Earth. They can’t do that when we close the doors up,” responded Mya.

Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche!

A Marine rounded a corner and stood a block down the street. The Marine paused and stared at Drew.

Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche!

He ran like a bat out of hell toward them, pushing up his visor. It was Segarra. He unclipped his helmet and pulled off his mask, dropping it on the street.

Out of breath, covered in perspiration, Segarra made it to Mya’s side and picked her up. The worry in his eyes changed to delight. “You did it again, Mya. And this time you got them all in one swoop. You chased them off, Baby.”

Mya didn’t say anything. She didn’t smile or frown. She merely hugged her dad. “This was the last time, Papa.”

Segarra shook his head. “It’s not. We have a lot of work to do. More of these blue mean people are all over our planet.”

Mya lowered her eyes. “No. No more.”

Segarra became stern, then relaxed. Drew could tell Segarra wasn’t going to argue. He kissed her on the cheek instead. “I’m just happy you’re alive and okay.”

“I have to be with Drew and Megan for a little bit.”

Segarra faced Drew, his eyes firm. “What does she mean?”

Mya touched her father’s cheek. “We are going to look for others like me and wait for Jaxx to find us.”

“Excuse me?” Segarra stood straighter. “Again, what does my daughter mean?” He wasn’t happy with what was coming out of Mya’s mouth.

Drew shrugged. “No idea.” Of all things, Drew wanted a joint, not to look for kids with the same powers as Mya.

Segarra huffed and dipped his head. “Good day, you two. Thank you for keeping my child safe.” He turned on his heels and, holding Mya, walked away and disappeared around a corner.

“What did she mean, Drew?” asked Megan, shoving her hands hard in her pockets. “Who is Jaxx?”

Drew looked over Megan’s shoulder. A sign with a marijuana leaf was screwed into a shop behind her. “Holy shit.”

Her eyes went wide. “Is there an Agadon behind me?”

“No, no. This is something that’s good. Real good.” He walked past her, heading toward the ganja dispensary.

31

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

Jaxx stared at Slade crumpled on the floor, a mess of blood pooling around his corpse. It was this man, Slade, who made his life a miserable hell for months, and here Slade was, dead like a poisoned rat sprawled out on the ground.

Craig rested his hand on Jaxx’s back. “You probably wanted to see that guy dead for a long time, huh?”

Jaxx nodded his head, then shifted on his feet. He had so many questions, the most glaring of which was why heck was the President of the United States was down here with Slade. But Rivkah was more important. He had to tell Rivkah that Slade took his last breath not too long ago, even if she was unconscious. Maybe that could help bring her back. “I have to go.”

He halted when he saw his buddy, Kiyo-zan, on the floor, motionless. He had saved Jaxx’s life. He bent down, touching the back of Kiyo-zan’s head. “Thank you, my friend. Always, and forever. Thank you.”

A ding and the elevator door opened. Fox barreled out, skidding to a halt in front of them, breathless. “The pyramid just popped up out of nowhere. Scared the shit out of me. Clever trick, Jaxx-boy. How did you pull a pyramid out of your ass like that?”

“It has to deal with octaves and vibrational dimensions, Fox. Your mind wouldn’t understand,” said Zara. She had Rivkah in her arms. She halted when she saw Kiyo-zan. She gave a sad bow and closed her eyes for a moment. “I’m sorry for your loss, Jaxx. He was a good man.” She lifted Rivkah a little higher in the air. “She doesn’t have much time. Jaxx.” She tipped her head toward the pyramid entrance. “There might be something in there that might help Rivkah.”

Craig backed up. “A cat-human?” He bowed, then extended his hand. “I’m Craig Martelle, the President of the United States of—”

Zara pushed him aside with her hip. “Move it, long-nose.”

Jaxx rushed past the pyramid entrance. Two women greeted him, though greeted was the wrong word. These two sat cross legged near the entrance of the pyramid, their eyelids shut, humming. A megalithic rectangular stone was in front of them, hovering and spinning end over end.

Their eyes opened and the stone crashed to the floor, pinging loudly against the walls. They stood, their hands out, unblinking.

“Pyramid,” said Jaxx. “I have an injured friend. Can we heal her?”

A door opened up in the side of a transparent wall, leading to a room full of weapons, bones, and stone tablets covered with hieroglyphs. Jaxx would have been in absolute heaven translating each glyph, figuring out the secret to the creation of the universe, if he’d had time. But time was slipping away, taking Rivkah with it.

He walked into the room and static electricity swarmed over him.

The two humming women followed Jaxx, their arms still extended outward.

Jaxx turned, trying to figure out where the pyramid was trying to lead him, and accidently bumped into one of the women. “You can help Rivkah?” There was a hopeful gleam in Jaxx’s eyes.

A woman dipped her head. The other woman mimicked her.

They must be mute, thought Jaxx. “Zara, bring Rivkah in here.”

“Yes, I’m on my way.” Zara rounded the door frame, Rivkah still limp and lifeless.

“Put Rivkah in their arms,” ordered Jaxx.

A woman slowly shook her head and sat down in the middle of the room, the one area that wasn’t littered with ancient masterpieces. The other woman sat across from her. They both patted the ground at the same time.

Zara gently set Rivkah on the ground in between the two ladies. She backed away and the women began to hum louder. Rivkah lifted off the ground and hovered between them, her legs straight out and her arms by her sides as if she was on an invisible table.

Lightning-like electricity materialized around Rivkah and a loud pop filled the air. Rivkah began vibrating, shaking, her limbs moving as if she was going through a shock treatment. Her head lifted and she screamed. She fell to the floor.

The two women in meditation stood and put their hands together, bowed, then walked out of the room.

Jaxx held his breath for several seconds and finally spoke. “Rivkah? Are you there? Are you alive?”

32

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

“Where am I?” Rivkah bolted up, her eyes darting around the room. The kids? Where were the kids? Was she too late?

Jaxx ran to her side, grasping her arm. “You’re with me.”

“Jaxx?” She couldn’t believe her eyes. Was he really there in front of her? She reached out and touched his face. “Did you—” She didn’t finish her sentence. She wanted to know if he saved her, because damn, that would make up for a lot of shit she’d put up with from this guy. But the children. They were most important.

A flood of energy ran over her, running down her arms and to her feet. A voice boomed in her ears, one that she knew was from the structure she was inside. How was it possible for a building to talk with her? “I have to get the children and bring them down here. Here their DNA can be rewired and link up to the pyramid network. They can help us close it.”

She stood and ran out of the healing chamber and out of the pyramid. She stopped, her heart racing, her adrenaline on full alert. Where was she? How the hell could she get out?

Jaxx caught up to her. “What’s all this about children?”

She nodded. “We need to get them down here. Where are they?” She paused as she caught sight of Slade dead on the ground. “How did—” Right now, it didn’t matter. Slade was dead. That was all to the good. The details could come later.

Jaxx pulled her to the elevator. It opened.

She hurried into the elevator, Jaxx by her side. He pressed the up arrow. She closed her eyes, searching for humans in the city. She let out a sigh of relief. “They are safe.” She looked at Jaxx. “I know where the children are.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened. They rushed into the skyscaper’s lobby and out of the entrance doors. There wasn’t any time to question how she made it underground and to a giant pyramid. She had to get the children away from any remaining Kelhoon. The damn place was vacant. No sounds, no gun blasts close by, just thunder and crackling phasers over the hills to the north.

They made their way down a side street, heading toward the castle that mainstaged the city. Rivkah couldn’t believe how warm it was in contrast to the rest of Callisto. Her brain raced on ahead, making plans for the children. She would house them right here, keep them safe, keep them far from the Kelhoon and the Agadon and any other race that might seek to enslave them.

“Left,” she shouted, heading down another street. “Right there.” She lifted her arm, pointing her index finger at a warehouse. “I don’t know if it’s being guarded.”

Jaxx shook his head. “Okbak, the Kelhoon leader, said he sent all his troops after the Agadon. My guess is that it’s safe.”

Okbak? What the hell was Jaxx doing talking with Kajka Okbak and how did he convince the prick to go after the Agadon? Again, too many questions, too little time. “If we don’t get those kids secretly, we’ll have to deal with the Kelhoon assholes knowing we are stealing them from their business.”

Jaxx’s hand brushed against hers as they ran and a tingling went up her spine and encapsulated her heart. Just the touch, the need to be touched by him some more, riveted her soul. Later. That could all come later. She made her way to the warehouse.

She squeezed the latch and pulled down. A loud clank and the large warehouse door opened. The lights turned on, practically blinding them, then died down to normal.

Whispers and gasps filled the place, and the children pounded against the wooden shacks they were trapped in, their hands bound by energetic cuffs.

“Help us,” yelled an older girl. “Please.”

Rivkah glanced to her left, seeing a console. “Jaxx, figure that out.”

Jaxx placed his hands over the console and closed his eyes. It blasted apart, sparks shooting everywhere.

“It worked,” yelled the little girl. “My handcuffs turned off.”

A rumble filled the sky. Jaxx looked out the door. “Shit. It’s a Kelhoon ship. Let’s go.”

Fighting these lizard scum wouldn’t be so smart around these kids. Any errant shot would mean immediate death. They had to go. She ran to the closest shelter in front of her and threw the door open. Several kids stared up at her, their eyes blank, their souls crushed. She waived them out, her own eyes fierce, but her voice soft. “Get out. All of you. We’re getting you to safety.”

In under ten minutes they had exactly twenty-four children out of their cages. “Follow me, and Jaxx, take the rear. Make sure we make it safely and to the underground facility, no matter what.”

Jaxx nodded and prodded several children forward. “You’re doing good. But we’re not out of this yet.”

Exiting the warehouse, two dozen kids behind her, Rivkah dashed onward and down a street. A flash of light zoomed overhead, then slowed. It was a Kelhoon transport. It reversed course and hovered over them, then began to descend.

“Take the kids and go,” yelled Jaxx, eyeing the craft coming in for a landing. “They’ll want their child investments and I’m not giving any to them.”

Rivkah narrowed her eyes, throwing her hands in the air. “Keep going, children. We’ll be safe.” The truth is, she didn’t know if she was leading them to safety or not.

They rounded a corner and found themselves down the street from the skyscraper. Another ship came into view. Though it was far away, it was coming in fast. The Kelhoon knew something was up and they didn’t like it.

Wapooo! Wapooo! Krackow!

Phaser blasts and a ball of fire rose into the sky from down the street and around the corner. It was exactly where Jaxx had left them. She closed her eyes to scan his energy signature, then a roar filled the sky. Starfighters were on their way.

She stepped up the stairs into the skyscraper and opened the door, letting all the children run inside. “Press that elevator arrow down.”

A young girl pumped her little feet as fast as they could carry her and punched the down arrow. The elevator dinged and opened. That was fine and dandy, but twenty-four kids wouldn’t fit in that thing.

Crap.

She pushed in twelve, packing them in as best she could. She stood outside the elevator with the remaining twelve. The elevator doors shut.

Rivkah brought her fingernails to her teeth, tapping, waiting. “Come on. Hurry, hurry.” She waited a few more seconds and pressed the up arrow. Soon, the elevator would make its way back up and she’d shove everyone, including herself, inside.

Another blast rocked the building and Rivkah ducked. The kids ducked and screamed. This explosion was closer. Was Jaxx safe? Was he heading this way?

The elevator dinged open and she pushed all the kids inside, jimmying herself next to the digital buttons on a panel next to the elevator door. She pressed the down arrow. The doors closed.

She relaxed, for the moment. When she’d make it down there, then what? Would she take more information from the pyramid? She hoped so. Otherwise, they may be sitting ducks down here waiting for the Kelhoon to show up and make mincemeat of them.

The door opened. The twelve kids who took the first ride in the elevator were standing around, scared looks in their eyes. “To the pyramid. Go, every one of you.”

All twenty-four ran, Rivkah right behind them. They entered the pyramid.

Fox stood inside, looking nonchalantly at the kids like this was a normal affair. “Eh, now what?” He put his hands up, waiting for an answer.

“Where is the cat-lady?” asked Rivkah. She was nowhere to be seen.

“Around the corner. She doesn’t want to scare the kids any more than they already are.”

The kids have seen half-lizards, half-humans. A beautiful lioness would probably be a relief, but to each her own.

Rivkah went deep within, taking several large breaths, asking the pyramid her next step. She waited, listening. Finally, the answer came.

“We need—”

The elevator dinged and she turned, her hands in fists, ready to take on a thousand Kelhoon idiots if she had to. She dropped her hands. It was Jaxx and a momentary smile erupted on her face, her heart going to him. She hid it a second later.

He held out a Kelhoon rifle and blasted the elevator to shit, warping the inside, making it non-operational. But, how did he get that rifle? Must had taken it from a Kelhoon in the Kelhoon transport that had landed, then probably used the rifle to blow the transport to kingdom come. Hence the explosions outside.

Jaxx walked toward them, sweat dripping down his temples and cheek. “Kelhoon are crawling all over the city up there and are probably in the skyscraper now. Hopefully the broken elevator will keep them at bay for a while.” His eyes were full of doubt.

The Kelhoon always found a way. Rivkah knew this all too well. Give them ten minutes, and they’d be crawling down here as well.

33

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

Jaxx stopped, his eyelids closing. He was receiving a message. His body shivered, his mind racing with hieroglyphs transforming into words. The pyramid was speaking to him, giving him important information.

He opened his eyes and walked hastily into the pyramid. “Children. Things are going to be a little different in a few seconds. I need each and every one of you to hold hands with Rivkah and that nice fellow standing over there and make a circle.” He motioned toward Fox.

Fox raised his hand shrugging, then grunted something inaudible. “What do you need from me now, Jaxx?”

“Get in the circle.” Jaxx walked to the middle and sat down, his legs crossed like a yogi. The children surrounded him, most looking unsure, others stone faced, probably numb to everything in life following the Kelhoon’s treatment of them.

Rivkah made her way to the circle as well, then held onto the children’s hands. Fox did the same.

“We’re attempting to close the pyramid network now.”

The pyramid hummed. Static electricity filled the room, sending shocks against the walls and across the floor. An energetic vortex circled Jaxx, twisting and turning, expanding his heart, opening him up to the Universe. Showers of golden light shot from the middle of the pyramid, through Jaxx. He relaxed, his body lightened, and he felt himself rise.

A concussion burst in the structure, near the elevator, rocking the room.

Jaxx didn’t budge. “Keep your focus. Pay attention to nothing but the hum.”

Jaxx arched back, his heart opening even wider, and a bright light beamed through him and out into the cosmos, rocketing through solar system after solar system, connecting to every pyramid on every planet in the galaxy. He felt them all. He was them all. He was the beating heart of every pyramid ever built, from the smallest pile of rocks to the most majestic structures on far-flung planets.

The lines connecting the pyramids were red, muddied. In Jaxx’s mind’s eye, he saw a key.

The pyramid shook again as shell after shell detonated nearby and a Kelhoon entered the room. How it had found a way to the underground facility, Jaxx didn’t know. More Kelhoon boots slapped against the floor outside of the pyramid. He felt their anger, their heat. They readied their weapons.

He brought his focus back to the network, the red lines growing darker. He energetically moved the key, twisting it in the vast macrocosm of space. The network connecting pyramid to pyramid shut off like a faucet.

A wind picked up and Jaxx opened his eyes. He stood, looking over the children who still held the circle with Rivkah and Fox. Every pair of eyes was closed but Jaxx’s.

The Kelhoon hissed and screamed, a mass of energy materializing behind them, twirling in a circle. It opened up wide and the Kelhoon were lifted off their feet and sucked into the whirling matrix. The darkness enveloped them and swallowed them whole. In the far recesses of his mind, Jaxx sensed the Agadon clattering and clambering and caterwauling in that same, dark void. The swirling mass of evil shrunk in on itself, folding and refolding, until it was so dense it became a single point of light. It blinked—once, twice, three times—then blinked out.

The wind died down, became a breeze, then a wisp of nothing.

He had rid the galaxy of two evil races. His heart pounded so hard, he thought it might burst out of his chest. The Kelhoon were dust, the Agadon scrap metal, and the children of Earth had been liberated. All because of his beloved pyramids.

Jaxx stared at Rivkah. She had a tear streaking down her chin and dropping to her chest. He walked over, his mind clear, his job done. “I’m still here Rivkah. I’m still alive.” The prophecy said he would perish, but somehow, the prophecy was wrong.

She shook her head slowly, her face as beautiful as ever, her eyes remaining closed. “It can’t be. How?”

He leaned forward, bringing his lips to hers and kissing her gently. She opened her eyes, leaning in, her lips pressing tightly against his. She let go. “You have to go.”

He dipped his head. “I know.”

“What about the children?” asked Rivkah, her lips turning into a smile. “Are you taking them with you?”

“They know what their path is now. Just like you do. And you are all here to stay. The children are to reseed this moon with the remaining Atlanteans and grow it back to its golden age.”

A child stepped forward. “You are to help us, Rivkah.”

“What about your parents. You’ll miss them. You have to go back to Earth,” said Rivkah.

The children had a new glow about them, a new energy. They had been transformed by the light, by the hum, and by the pyramid. Jaxx didn’t know how, but it was true. He could see it. Hell, he could feel it.

Another child spoke up. “Our parents are not alive on Earth anymore. They died during the Agadon invasion. I felt it and the rest of the kids here felt it. And if our parents were alive, we could still visit them from time to time.”

“Why aren’t you sad?” questioned Rivkah. “And why am I sad?”

Zara stepped around the corner and into the room. “Children have an easier path to evolution, to rising with the tide, than adults. You will get there Rivkah, you will help them grow as they will help you grow.”

Fox leaned back against the pyramid wall with a smirk on his face.

Jaxx paid him no mind and grabbed Rivkah’s hands. “Listen, I will be back. But I have to do one more thing. Earth is calling to me.”

It was Mya, connecting through Earth, asking for Jaxx to return. It was an emergency. He had sensed she was the one to help Earth. Apparently, his feeling was incorrect, or something had changed and she needed him—Earth needed him.

“What the hell?” came Fox’s voice. He was looking up.

Above them the ceiling changed from black to purple to nothing as it vanished out of thin air, and a giant black ship descended. “Hold on,” said Jaxx as everyone parted to make way for the ship.

He brought up his Chi and sent it to the pyramid’s apex. In an instant, the Chi reflected back to him with the pyramid’s response. He took a gander at the craft. “I’m supposed to take this back to Earth?”

Fox puffed out his cheeks, shaking his head. He lifted his shoulders and dropped them. “Beats me.”

Jaxx put his hands on his hips, looking down at his feet. “I have to go now.”

Fox opened his mouth.

Jaxx interrupted. “Where is the president?”

Fox gazed around the room. “The prick ducked out on us.”

“So be it. He was probably in on some negative scheme that Slade had.” Jaxx strode over to the ship in the middle of the room. It looked like a perched eagle with her eyes toward the sun, its wings outstretched and its wingtips touching the ground. Ion thrusters were under each wing and touching the craft’s body. Its nose was beaked, again, like an eagle.

Jaxx touched it and from first impression, it felt like smooth granite. If so, and if this particular craft had been here for thousands of years, granite or limestone would have been the best choice to keep it weather and oxidation proof.

Pfftcheeeee!

Steam expelled from the craft’s belly and a ramp opened up. It slowly lowered to the ground, then clanked as it hit the pyramid’s floor.

“I’m coming with you then,” said Fox, taking a step forward.

Rivkah put her hand out. “You wouldn’t survive in that thing, dumbass.”

“She’s right,” responded Jaxx.

“My ass, I wouldn’t.” He took a few more steps.

Jaxx turned to face him. “One, I’m the key. It’s in my DNA to step inside this craft. You, on the other hand, would die within seconds. Two, you try to get on that thing?” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Then you’ll have to come through me.”

Fox lifted his fist.

“And me,” said Zara. “I sure do like pouncing on prey, don’t you, Jaxx?”

Jaxx slowly nodded his head. “Me kicking his ass is better than him stepping inside that ship and dying.”

Fox let his hand fall to his side. He gestured with his other hand in a sweeping motion toward the craft. “Alright, have your fun. Enjoy Earth.”

“You’ll help me here on Callisto, Fox,” said Rivkah.

Fox huffed, biting his lip. He looked off, not happy about his current situation.

Jaxx bowed his head, staring at Rivkah. “I’ll see you soon, I hope.” He took his first step on the ramp.

“Hope is interesting,” said Zara. “Sometimes beyond all logic and all reason, you have nothing but hope to keep you going. The next step is faith. Know you’ll complete whatever task is next for you, even against all odds, and you will.”

Jaxx held up a thumb. Easy for her to say.

“Wait,” said Fox. He grunted, taking a reluctant couple of steps toward Jaxx. He held out his hand. “I know I’m a piss-ant, and I rather like it that way, but you’ve shown me that you’re not such a pussy after all.”

Jaxx took Fox’s hand and squeezed, shaking it. He cocked his head to the side, smiling. “Brother?”

“As screwed up as it is, we may actually be brothers. I don’t know anyone as bad-ass as you and me. You know, we’re pretty damn bad-ass.”

“I know a few,” replied Jaxx. “Rivkah and Zara.”

Rivkah moved with haste toward Jaxx. “You’re forgetting something.” She moved the hair out of her face and wrapped her arms around him. She brought her lips back to his, kissing long and hard. “Now, get up into that craft and finish what you need to.”

34

E-Quadrant, Solar System - Whitefish, Montana

Drew stood inside the dispensary, or in Drew’s laymen terms: a pot shop. He was dog-tired, worn down to the bone. The shock of the bombings, deaths, and giant-ass ships was finally getting to him. It wouldn’t hurt anyone if he availed himself of a little weed. He needed to get out of his head. Not off his head, just away from his thoughts. He wanted to rest: no life-and-death struggle, no friends getting slaughtered, no little girls who were destined to save the world, no talk of him ruling squat. Just a nice couch and a bit of kush.

He picked up a glass pipe from a shelf behind the counter and examined it, seeing the bright colors imbedded in the glass. He held it in his hand. It would be a good souvenir. Hell, he helped save the city of Whitefish—doing his little part—so what would they care if he grabbed a memento?

On the counter was a pile of marijuana buds inside what looked like a glass cake display holder.

“Perfect. Where the hell is a lighter?” He scrounged around the checkout stand and opened a drawer.

Bingo.

A bell jingled as the door opened. “What are you doing, Drew?”

“Taking a load off.” He lifted the glass cover off of the pile of mary jane and grabbed a bud.

“Do that later. We have to talk.”

Great, the boy and girl relationship talk thingy. He’d heard of those before, but had never had a girlfriend long enough to ever have one of them. But this girl was not a girlfriend. Maybe it wasn’t one of those talks? “Yeah?”

“What does Mya mean by ruling together?” She pointed at Drew and then to herself.

Drew leaned on the counter, and breathed out a long, slow breath. “She’s only six years old. Maybe she’s mistaking rule for something else?” He wanted to get back to the task at hand.

“Stop bullshitting, Drew. Sometimes Mya talks like she’s an adult. You know she understands what ruling is, and she has pegged you and I as ruling Whitefish and other places.”

“Look, I don’t know.”

Tsche! Tsche! Tsche! Tsche!

Drew gave Megan a look, then placed the cover over the marijuana and the lighter back into the drawer.

“Looks like a Marine is back,” said Megan, her brows furrowed, curiosity streaking her eyes. She glanced out the window.

Drew sighed. He hoped it wasn’t Segarra, but it probably was. Reality was back, demanding he step up.

Mya opened the door, her sweet innocent eyes staring up at Drew. “My daddy said I could stay with you and do what I have to do.”

“You mean, to sit and chill for a while?” He knew that’s not what she meant.

“To find the others like me and meet up with Jaxx.”

Drew pursed his lips. Could he have a break for just a moment? He stared at the pipe for a few seconds, dreaming of wrapping his lips around the pipe’s mouthpiece and taking a nice drag. He glanced at Mya, her harmless glow flowing to him, whispering her courage, her want to help, her willingness to follow a mission to save the people of Earth—even though she didn’t know ninety-nine percent of those people. And this girl had some powers and secret insights that were more important than a puff of 420 Burnie.

He walked over and put the pipe back on the shelf. “I don’t know how to find the others.”

“I’m your protector,” said Mya.

Drew leaned in more. “You mean, I’m your protector.” That’s why she was asking him to come along, wasn’t it?

She shook her head ferociously, her eyes narrowing. “No, Drew. I’m your protector. You wouldn’t be able to protect me, or her.”

Drew glanced at Megan then back at Mya. “What am I to do, Mya?” This was getting a little out of hand, and even wackier than what has been going on outside for the last few days.

“Jaxx is on his way now. We walk that way.” Mya pointed at the wall behind Drew.

“You want us to go south? I don’t want to go anywhere,” responded Drew. “Let’s rest up.”

“Rest with her,” said Mya.

“Me?” Megan touched her chest. “That ain’t happening.”

“Yes, it will,” Mya replied.

Drew liked the sound of that, but he didn’t think Mya knew what she was talking about.

“So, let me get this straight,” said Drew. “Your dad has given you permission to go on a hike with me and Megan, outside of the shield zone, and to God-knows-where, in order to find other children like you?”

“I won’t get hurt, I promised him.”

“How did you do that, sweetie?” questioned Megan.

“I showed him in his mind.” She waived Drew over to her. “Like this.” She reached up and touched Drew’s forearm.

The chronic shop evaporated in front of his eyes and they were near a river. The Agadon were on the other side, standing like stone statues. A hand touched Drew’s. It was another little girl, smiling brightly up at him. A sensation ran from her hand and up his arm, and Drew’s body began vibrating, tingling. A heart-lifting awareness washed over him and he understood, for reasons he couldn’t explain, that Mya must go on this trip, must do this for the benefit of humanity.

Another child clasped his other hand. He looked and it was a young boy, brown hair, his eyes bright and mischievous, like most boys. And down the line were more children, Megan, and Mya. Then Jaxx, at the very end. He winked at Drew and lifted his hand like a conductor at an orchestra.

The river’s water rushed away from the shore, rising up into a massive wave, hiding the Agadon on the other side of the river. The wave broke and slammed on the Agadon’s position, but when it calmed, the Agadon were gone. They had disappeared.

What was left was a large, golden key resting on dirt and rocks in place of the Agadon. A hand picked it up and it was Jaxx. He was on the other side of the river. He dipped his head and smiled, turned around, and walked off, fading until he vanished.

Mya took her hand off of Drew’s forearm and Drew came back to the present, the smell of weed filling his nostrils.

“That is why we have to go, Drew,” she said.

Drew inhaled. He felt awake, revitalized—brand new. How did she do that? There was something not spoken or shown in the hallucination he just had. Yet, it came to him like the vision. “That’s only one of the many possibilities, Mya. We could also all die out there.”

She shook her head again. “I will protect you. I can protect. You saw it.”

“I also felt that nothing is set in stone.”

“I say we go,” said Megan. “The Agadon have flown away. Eventually they’ll come back and if there is a way to stop them, then by God, I’m all for it. If we don’t try, then we will surely perish by their hands.”

He walked around the counter and took Mya’s hand. “As long as you promise me you’ll be safe.”

Mya nodded her head. “I won’t die.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Will you be safe?”

Mya shrugged. “I think so.”

“Well, damn. That’s good enough?” Drew calculated every reason not to go. He calculated his risks, placing a child in harm’s way, and going south with a woman—Megan—he barely knew. There would be arguments, mistakes, wrong turns, and every other obstacle life throws at you from time to time. And what about the food? The water? Places to stay? Most importantly, where exactly were they going?

But the vision. If they could get to the hallucination that Drew had experienced, then it would be all worth it. They could wash away the Agadon threat.

Megan curled her fingers around Drew’s hand and reached for the door with her other. She opened it. “Lead the way, Mya.”

“No, you two lead the way. You’re the next rulers.”

Rulers? Drew still didn’t know what that meant, but there would be plenty of talking on the way—again, where ever the hell they were going. And supposedly, Jaxx was going to find his way to them.

“Time to step up, Drew Avera.” It was his mom’s voice, kind but firm. “Time to step up and be who you were always meant to be. My son, a positive world leader.”

Drew took a step onto the sidewalk. They walked around the building, still holding hands.

35

J-Quadrant, Solar System - Namuh Farms, Callisto

Jaxx walked through the ship’s cabin. The walls glistened as if they’d just been shined and his shoes squeaked as he made his way to the cockpit. The ramp began closing, sending a slight hum through the craft. There weren’t any seats or windows in the cabin. Reaching the cockpit, he sat down, the chair immediately conforming to his body.

The control panel in front of him beeped and two gold handprints appeared on the console. He put his hands on the prints and electricity ran up his arms and to his spine. His head shot back against the seat’s headrest and every muscle tensed in his body, his toes curling on their own. He clenched his teeth and yelped in pain.

His entire body was in a spasm.

His body relaxed and then began to vibrate, the seat along with it. The entire craft shook back and forth. His stomach lightened and a free-falling sensation took over.

“Whoa!” yelled Jaxx, his mouth open, his eyes darting back and forth.

The craft shot forward at an incredible speed, piercing through the pyramid as if it was invisible, and thrust forward into a spiraling tunnel. His back suctioned to the seat and wind flew into his face, rushing at him like the gushing waters at the head of a river. The tunnel twisted right and curled around, then turned left, up and down, and up and down like a roller coaster ride. At every turn, electric sparks shot outward.

His hands shook, though they were still planted firmly on the handprints.

The wind died down and the craft slowed. Up ahead was what appeared to be the end of a tunnel. It was a pinpoint of blue light, but nothing more.

“Where am I going?” asked Jaxx out loud.

Before he could get an answer, the craft bulleted forward and the tunnel around him exploded into a billion tiny pieces of white light and in front of him was the most beautiful planet in the galaxy—Earth. It’s brilliant blue glow and striking, wispy white clouds and green, brown, and white landmasses called to him.

He was home.

A voice spoke. “Thank you, Jaxx. We are on our way.”

“Who are you?” questioned Jaxx. And where were they on their way to?

“It’s Mya.”

“Take me to Mya,” ordered Jaxx.

A beam blasted from the ship’s nose onto a portion of the United States. The cockpit opened up and Jaxx gasped, his eyes going wide. This wasn’t what he meant by taking him to Mya.

A frigid cold engulfed his body and all air was sucked out of the craft. He put his hand around his throat, trying to get air, but couldn’t.

The beam jumped up from the ship’s nose and moved backward, encapsulated Jaxx, throwing him headfirst toward Earth and into Earth’s atmosphere. He fell through the clouds, his arms flailing and the cold rush of wind smashing into his skin.

A loud static pierced his ears and everything stopped. He jerked back in a startle, placing his hands on the ground.

He had landed. Shockingly, he was in one piece. Didn’t see that coming. He gulped down the cool, sweet air. How good it was to be back on Earth.

He was in a seated position, cross legged, and his hands were on a bed of rocks, and a body of water was before him. He was on a beach. This, however, wasn’t the ocean. It was a massive lake.

He looked around. He was on an island as water surrounded him. He could see shore on the other side of the lake, but how the hell was he going to get over there?

Swimming would be impossible, unless he wanted to die of exhaustion halfway. He slapped his hands together. He had Chi, but dammit, he didn’t like the idea of swimming.

He stood and walked over to the water’s edge. He put his hand in the water and pulled back. It was freezing.

He turned and lurched. A man was walking down a grassy hill and in his direction. The guy had on a buckskin coat, jeans, and a flannel shirt. He wore a cowboy hat. A gob of chew was under the man’s lower lip and he spat black saliva on the grass as he made his way toward Jaxx.

“Are you Jaxx?”

“Yes.” How the hell would he know who he was? Jaxx had never seen this guy before in his life.

He gave Jaxx a frightened look. “I can’t believe it.” He bent a few inches forward and took off his hat in greeting, then put it back on. The guy was a definite cowboy. “My name is Kip.”

“How do you know who I am?”

The man put his hands on his hip and spit on the ground. “I had a dream of you last night. Apparently, I’m supposed to take you across this lake and to the shore yonder.” The man pointed over Jaxx’s shoulder.

“You had a dream of me?”

He nodded his head and took the chew out of his mouth and threw it on the ground. He wiped his hand on his pants. “If these aliens hadn’t invaded, I’d have just let that dream go. You know?”

Jaxx pointed to the ground. “Aliens are here, now?” Were they on this island?

“Not here, at the moment. They were here not too long ago, but they went south.” He got on one knee and eyed the shoreline. “You see that smoke?”

Off in the distance were a range of mountains, but he couldn’t see the smoke. “I don’t see it.”

“Well, when you do, that’s where you’re going to go, I reckon. That’s Whitefish, but go in that direction, but not necessarily to Whitefish, okay? That’s what my dream said. So just follow the line to Whitefish and you’ll find what you’re looking for.” He picked up a rock and threw it into the lake. “Poor old Whitefish. They got hit hard, but they fought back and dagnabbit, I think they won, because when those bastard aliens flew over our town, I swear their ships were battered and beaten.”

“I’m in Montana?”

“As you live and breathe, son.”

“Is this Flathead city?”

The man laughed and jabbed the rocks with his toe. “Well, hell no, son. This isn’t Flathead city. I’m sure there is a Flathead city someplace on Earth’s map, but not around here. This here is Wild Horse Island on Flathead Lake. The cities around you are Elmo, Dayton, Landisfarne, Rollins, and a few more. But like I said, you’re not staying in any of those places, you’re wandering north.”

Jaxx huffed and looked across the water. Islands filled the lake and the blue sky made the lake and the calm waters look incredibly clear. Colorful brown, bronze, and gray rock littered the shoreline. “Do we have a boat?”

“Of course,” he snorted. “I didn’t just appear out of nowhere. It’s over there.” He tilted his head in thought. “Well, how the hell did you get here?”

Jaxx put his hands out. “I appeared out of nowhere.”

The man threw a dismissive hand and turned around. “A few days ago I wouldn’t have believed you. Nowadays? Who knows.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Follow me. We have a boat to drive. Let’s get going, right quick you hear? After I drop you off on shore, I can get back to my life.” He shrugged. “Well, whatever life I can get to. This invasion has been nothing but hell on us.”

“How bad is it?”

“Can’t be that bad if it’s just you that’s supposed to fix it all.”

Jaxx followed the man up a short incline, finding his feet on grass. “Is that what your dream said?”

“Yep. You’re going to fix this mess. You and some pretty strange children.”

The boat ride was calm, quiet. The wind blew through Jaxx’s hair from the motorboat’s open cabin. As Kip steered into the dock, he slowed the motor, and the boat’s gas fumes wafted to Jaxx’s nostrils.

Kip stood from his seat and pointed north. “That way to the one child.”

The one child? Jaxx didn’t question. It’s not as if Kip would know the name of the one child. It had to be Mya.

Kip butted the side of his boat against the dock and tied the stern rope onto a metal cleat on the dock, then the bow rope onto another cleat. He tightened and secured the line. He motioned with his hand. “Jump off. The dock won’t bite.”

Jaxx stepped up onto the dock. He held out his hand. “Thank you.”

Kip dipped his head and reached around to his back pocket, pulling out a can of chew. He opened it and dipped his fingers in it, pulled out a bog, and placed it under his bottom lip. He spit. “I got nothing else for you. You can get. I—” He stopped midsentence, glancing over Jaxx’s shoulder. “Well, lookie here. Maybe you don’t have to walk north after all.”

Jaxx turned around. A young girl, accompanied by two adults, stood at the edge of the dock. Was that Mya? He walked forward, his pace quickening when he not only saw Mya, but to his shock and pure delight, there stood his nephew, Drew Avera, journalist extraordinaire.

His lips grew into a large smile, his pearly whites showing more so than they had in the last several months of hell. “Drew?”

“You gotta be kidding me,” said Drew, drawing his arms out wide. “Uncle Jaxx?”

They met each other and embraced. Jaxx leaned back and gave Drew a big pat on his back. “What in the heck brings you here?”

Drew gestured to the little girl next to him, her pure soul shining through her eyes. “Mya can explain.”

Jaxx bent down. “Hi, Mya. Nice to finally meet you.”

Mya pursed her lips. “We’re not done.”

Jaxx’s eyebrows came closer together. “We’re not done with what?”

“You closed the pyramid, but something is stirring. I don’t know yet what it is, but we need to find other children like me. You closed the doors to the bad guys. And they are now gone, but something doesn’t feel right, here on Earth. The rest of the galaxy feels right.” She shook her head, looking down. “But not Earth.”

“What is it, Mya?” Jaxx had the same suspicion deep in his gut. He had refused to listen to it on the ride to Earth, but it was there nonetheless. “There is a reason why I’m still here and alive, isn’t there. I didn’t complete the prophecy?”

“You did. Earth still has some clean-up to do.”

Jaxx straightened and eyed the woman next to Drew. “Your girlfriend?”

Megan jerked back. “No. God, no.” Her face was full of disgust. “I’m not with stoner over here.”

Drew clapped his hands together. “Right. Okay, shall we get going?”

Mya took Jaxx’s hand. “Follow me, Jaxx.”

“Where are we going?”

She shrugged. “Somewhere to find the other kids.”

They walked forward and down a path that followed the lake’s edge.

Jaxx imagined finding children with the same type of colorful glow Mya had. And then what? As always, life was going to inform him what to do next some time down the line. And as always, life was going to give him the heads up in full force like a solar flare from the sun.

But for the moment, things were good. He was with his nephew and a young woman his nephew’s age. Didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out Drew had a crush on her. And this young girl, Mya, who now walked hand in hand with him toward the setting sun was something else. The purity of her soul filled him with a peace so deep and wide he was sure he could combat anything that came at him. He was Kaden Jaxx and he was embracing his destiny. But for now, there was a brief respite.

No worries.

No Kelhoon.

No Agadon.

No explosions and no deaths.

No evil smashing his beloved Atlanteans into the ground.

Just Jaxx with some good people, and Earth’s fresh air.

Epilogue

Kip drove his pickup truck past his ranch’s welcome sign. The gravel driveway cracked and popped as his wheels rolled slowly forward. He pressed his foot on the brake.

“Kip,” yelled his wife, her face frantic, her eyes wild. She waived her hands as she rushed out of their house. Chickens scattered and their golden retriever followed her, his tail wagging, his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Kip stopped the truck and turned off the engine. He didn’t bother taking the keys out of the ignition as he hurried out of the car, leaving the door open. “What is it, Francine?”

She pointed toward their backyard forest, full of fir and pines.

Perhaps it was the fading day that had blinded him to the smoke rising from the trees upon driving onto his property, but he could now see it as clear as day.

“Something landed back there. No, it crashed.”

It sure as hell better not be those aliens. If so, that alien was in deep shit. He went back to his truck and pulled out a rifle from the cabin. He cocked it and slid several bullets out of a box and pushed them in his pocket.

“Stay in the house, Francine.”

She nodded and walked cautiously inside, shutting the door behind her. She’d watch from one of the windows facing the backyard. But that’s all Kip would allow her to do. Keeping her safe was way more important than satisfying her curiosity. He would check out the crash site himself.

He slapped the side of his leg as he rounded his house. “Here, Gunner.”

The golden retriever barked and ran by his owner’s side. Gunner licked Kip’s hand, barking again.

Passing the yard, Kip found himself stopped at the edge of the forest. Lights were shining maybe a hundred feet deep in the woods, and it wasn’t from fire. Smoke rose, but Kip could hear a hissing sound. Was that steam?

Kip took a step into the forest. “Come on, boy. Don’t just stand there. Let’s go.”

Gunner growled, pacing at the edge of the forest, refusing to go in.

“Alright, chicken-shit. Suit yourself.” Kip held his gun forward as he trekked on, his cowboy boots landing on moss and fallen needles. He didn’t make much sound, but in the quiet of dusk, every sound in the forest was like crashing cymbals.

He touched the bark on a tree and took several more steps onward, then halted in surprise. A large ship, clearly foreign to this world, was half buried in the ground, a long trail of dirt and fallen trees behind it.

It had crash landed, but it was far from destroyed.

The craft’s door was open and white ambient light poured out, highlighting the broken branches strewn around the ship. Steam lifted from the top of the craft like dry ice left out in the sun.

He held the gun tighter to his body, aiming it at the door. He inhaled sharply and gulped when he saw a large blue man lying face down on the ground just outside the craft.

He poked the blue monster with his rifle barrel then backed up, targeting the alien bastard. The Being didn’t move. Relieved, Kip took another step forward, squinting his eyes as he entered the craft’s belly.

More ashen-blue ET’s were on the craft’s floor, not breathing.

The cabin lights blinked to red and the cockpit flipped on. Several holographic images of Earth with points of light on several locations around the world extended from the console in front of the control stick.

An alien twitched, then another one. One grumbled, making metallic noises.

Kip backed up, then bumped into something. He twirled around. A big guy stood in front of him, his gray lips curling into a smile. He laughed like a chainsaw cutting through the hood of a car.

Kip pulled the trigger, his rifle sending a slug into the blue man’s stomach. Blood and sparks shot outward. The alien advanced forward, knocking Kip out of the way and toward the cockpit, yelling words Kip had never heard before.

Kip ran out of the craft.

Gunner was barking like mad as he ran alongside Kip.

Kip dashed around brush and jumped over a stump. He made it to his yard and quickly backed up, watching the ship’s lights change from white to blue. A loud roar and the ship lifted off the ground, breaking tree branches as it rose higher and higher.

Above the forest canopy, the trees swayed back and forth from the craft’s ion drives blowing air rapidly against them. Its engines ramped up and an orange fire blasted out of the back thrusters, propelling it forward at an amazing rate of speed.

Kip fell on his ass, his dog jumping on him and licking his face. He pushed Gunner away. Another ship lifted from deeper into the forest, and a third, and then a fourth.

The sky boomed and the crafts zipped across the heavens, disappearing south in a matter of seconds.

Kip stood. “Francine? Get in the truck. We’re going across the border.”

A back window opened, Francine white as a ghost. She’d seen the ships, too. “To Canada?”

Kip nodded and spit on the ground. “Yes, to Canada. No one ever attacks Canada.”

He raced to the truck and jumped in, Gunner leaping and landing on his lap, then climbing to the back seat. The passenger door opened and Francine sat down, shaking like it was below zero. Kip turned on the ignition and put his foot on the gas. Gravel shot out from under his wheels as he spun the truck around and down his long driveway.

He didn’t know their names. He didn’t want to know their names. All he knew was some blue-skinned aliens, large as friggin’ black bears, had landed on his property. Where they went next, he didn’t care, as long as they didn’t follow him. They were Jaxx’s problem, his dream had told him so.

“Sure as sugar hope that Jaxx fellow is ready, because there’s more where they came from.”

He took a left at the end of the driveway, heading north.

Enigma Atlantis

Ascendant Saga Book 5

Copyright © 2018

Brandon Ellis

All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. Names used in this novel do not represent the personalities, traits, or mental and physical characteristics to real persons, living or dead, with the same name.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

All rights reserved. Version 1.03.

Edited by Kate Pickford

Published by BookLily Press, LLC

Website: www.brandonelliswrites.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/brandonellis1212

1

South of Whitefish, Montana

A missile-shaped projectile twisted and flew over the forest trees with blue flames screaming out its back. It rotated and turned toward the small town. It picked up speed, pitched, and descended.

Woohoompa!

It slammed into the street separating two office buildings.

A vacuum-like energy sucked downward upon impact. The structures shook ferociously and fell toward one another.

Krackooh!

Red and yellow fire exploded toward the sky with a small mushroom cloud of debris and smoke following closely behind. The impact’s energy quickly shifted and shot outward, pushing the buildings away.

People shrieked in terror, their screams carrying to the wooded Montana highlands where Jaxx stood.

Jaxx furrowed his brow and his lips drew downward. “The first city we come upon and the Agadon are already ravaging it to hell and back.” He scratched his chin, thinking how this never-ending war, combat, and death had dominated his life for the past several months.

He just wanted it to be done and over with. A ball of pulsing hot rage filled his stomach.

Mya touched his hand. The six-year-old looked up at him, her touch soft and delicate. “We have to stop them, Jaxx. They are hurting people.”

Jaxx grimaced, his anger not subsiding an ounce. “More like killing people, Mya.” He touched the top of her head. “Stay here, okay?” He glanced over his shoulder at his genius journalist nephew, Drew, and his gal-pal from Whitefish, Megan. “Keep Mya safe. Do you understand?”

Drew took a step forward, the dry broken branches and needles crunching under his feet. He pushed a tree limb out of the way. “Will do, Jaxx. You be safe as well.”

Mya vehemently shook her head. “You’re not supposed to do this alone. I have to be with you wherever you go.”

Jaxx cracked his knuckles, shaking his head as fiercely as Mya. “Hell no.” Jaxx wouldn’t let that happen. Mya was just a kid. She may have powers like him, but she wasn’t experienced in war — other than what she had been forced to witness happening around her. “When we find the kid in that city down there — the one that you say is like you — then we’re bringing you and him to safety. And that will be somewhere far away from any combat.”

“After getting this boy, there is one more we have to find. We need three,” explained Mya, her eyes wide, her voice innocent.

Another explosion ripped through the town. Jaxx flinched as more cries echoed from the city and bounced off the forested hill they stood upon.

Suffering of any kind, let alone from women and children hollering bloody murder, didn’t sit well with Jaxx. It needed to end and it needed to end now.

He clenched his fists, ready to move down the hill to stop the misery below. He pointed at the city, wanting to get one more thing straight before he rushed down there to beat the shit out of a few Agadon scum. “Okay, so you say the second child is somewhere in that town. Where exactly is the third child?” He hoped the third was sitting next to the second. It’d make things a hell of a lot easier.

“There are many children in the world like me. The second is down there. The next closest child, and the third one we’re looking for is…” Mya pointed to Jaxx’s left.

“That’s south,” said Drew.

Jaxx bent down and drew a line in the dirt with his index finger, staring at Mya. “Don’t pass this, okay?” He glanced at Megan and Drew. “Actually, no one pass this point. I’ll be back with the child.”

“You won’t know what he looks like,” said Megan, her eyes steely. Jaxx could tell she didn’t like being told what she could or couldn’t do. But this wasn’t a game they were playing. This was real blood, sweat, and death.

Woohoompa!

Jaxx flinched. A bright light highlighted his face and a concussion reverberated across the town, roaring loudly. The rumble died down a few seconds later.

Jaxx turned to leave. “We don’t have time. Stay here.”

Drew huffed and walked over to Mya, resting his hand on her shoulder. “Jaxx, listen to me. I’d suggest following Mya’s lead. She knows what she’s doing…intuitively. She’ll know where the kid that we’re looking for is.”

If the child had an aura like Mya, violet with rainbow flecks throughout, then Jaxx was confident he could find the child. It would be a quick in and out.

“Stay.” Jaxx put his hands together and bowed, much like Kiyo-zan, his old Japanese-looking friend from planet Taiyo, used to do. Kiyo-zan was a wiz behind the cockpit and as tough as it gets in hand to hand combat. How he wished Kiyo-zan was still alive and with him now, but he had been killed by Colonel Slade Roberson’s hand. That asshole was also deader than a damn doornail.

Today Jaxx was getting his way, no matter what. He dipped his head, his lips straight and tight. He rushed down the hill and toward the shattered town a little less than a mile away.

Vvvvzzzzzshh!

An Agadon starfighter zipped overhead, its ion afterburners humming loudly. It dipped its nose toward the city, letting out ion lasers and photon slugs across a city block.

Zoopha! Zoopha!

It shot two more times before pulling up.

Chunks of buildings and homes flew into the air, the lasers and slugs stripping wood and concrete like it was mere Styrofoam.

“Those evil bastards,” growled Jaxx, forcing his legs as fast as they could go, the wind racing through his hair, and his Chi rising. It felt good to be back on Earth. Well, as good as it could get with Agadon chipping away at his old home world.

Reaching the outskirts of the city, he jumped over a steel gate that wrapped around someone’s yard.

Wapoooh!

A photon bolt slammed into an oak tree beside him. The tree’s branches and leaves lit up in fire, licking red and yellow flames toward the heavens. A loud crack pierced the area and Jaxx spun away, barely missing a falling branch.

The Agadon knew he was here. But he didn’t have time to see who fired that shot.

He ran toward a sidewalk circling a building. He rounded the corner and dug his heels into the ground, coming to a skidding halt. His heart fell.

Agadon upon Agadon were marching down the street, their cannons in hand, lighting the town up, blasting round after round of photon charges. Dead people were strewn about, blood oozing from their wounds, coloring the sidewalks, darkening the road.

He took in a deep breath. Up ahead were two Agadon, their backs to Jaxx, and unaware of Jaxx’s presence — for the moment. He wouldn’t want to keep the party waiting, so he best let them know he was around.

He rushed forward and jumped, his arms splayed outward, his legs flexed. One arm snagged the back of an Agadon’s neck and his other hand palmed the back of the other Agadon’s skull. Upon contact, Jaxx drew his arms together, mimicking a butterfly press.

The Agadon’s heads came together, cracking loudly. The soldiers collapsed to the ground.

Wapoooh! Wapoooh!

Jaxx dove and rolled. Two photon charges whizzed over his head. He exhaled loudly. No way would Mya be able to handle this and survive. What was Drew thinking?

Jaxx leaped behind a car.

Wapooh!

Another shot rang out, penetrating the car Jaxx hid behind. The car lifted a few feet into the air and tipped to the side and away from Jaxx. It landed and bounced, tumbling on its roof, and turning into a ball of flames.

He quickly got up and raced toward a building, heading for cover and out of the Agadon’s line of sight.

A blast cracked open the ground behind him, pelting the soles of his boots with soot and rock. He slid to the building and rested his back against it. He peeked around the corner. An Agadon marching in his direction immediately fired. Jaxx ducked back around and the projectile whizzed by.

He rubbed his sweaty hands on his jumpsuit pants. He’d worn the same jumpsuit on Starship Atlantis, on planet Leonia, on planet Taiyo, and even on Callisto. He smelled his armpits. Was that rotting fish that wafted through the air or his smell? He knew the answer right away. “God, I need a shower.”

He peeked around the corner again. More Agadon troops were coming his way. “I got myself into a little pickle, didn’t I.”

Just above him, a ladder extended ten feet down from a balcony. The bottom rung was still a good four or five feet out of reach. He crouched and jumped, grabbing ahold of the rung. He wrapped his fingers tightly and thrust his arm upward, catching the next rung up. Chi for the win.

The sounds of Agadon feet came closer. Any minute now and they’d be rounding the building, catching him in a climb toward a balcony. He was a sitting duck…or rather, a climbing duck.

He moved fast and furiously until he made it over the railing and to the terrace. He spun around, seeing a window to an apartment. He hurried over and pushed up.

It was locked. “Shit.” Breaking it open would let the Agadon know exactly where he was, either by sound or sight.

The Agadon’s clunky footsteps came closer, pounding against the street like jack hammers. Apparently, they didn’t know that stealth was a concept.

Jaxx glanced through the window, making sure that no one — especially the Agadon — were inside. Other than couches, a television set, and a table with lamps and other mementos throughout the small living room, the place looked empty.

He went to open it again.

Kikishish!

“Dammit.”

The glass broke from the force of his upward thrust. He forgot the Chi was still running through him. He shook his head in annoyance and leaned back, placing his hands on the balcony railings, and kicked the remaining shards of glass out of the window frame.

“Jaxx?”

Stunned that someone knew his name, he looked behind him and down at the concrete below.

An Agadon stared up at him. Laughter, sounding like a chainsaw cutting through metal, followed. “It is you.”

Jaxx jumped through the window and into the living room. The Agadon’s voice sounded familiar. Was that Taz, the Agadon who had given him so many fits through this recent journey from planet to planet that Jaxx had been on? Jaxx shook his head. It couldn’t be. The guy was dead. He raced to the kitchen, opening drawer after drawer, frantically looking for a knife. Whoever spoke his name was no doubt climbing up to this apartment right now.

“There,” he said, pulling out a butcher knife. It wasn’t the best to do the job, but if he needed it, it would do to protect him — if his fists couldn’t do the job.

He rushed to the window, his eyes narrowed, his mind determined to stop the blue-faced piece of shit with that metallic laughter.

He reached the broken window, his hand gripping the knife’s handle tightly, and readied to defend himself in close-to-close combat.

He stepped back, his lower lip protruding. “Where did you go?” The Agadon was gone. He paused, listening. “Well, where the hell did every Agadon go?” The explosions, deathly yells and screams that filled the town had evaporated.

Everything was silent.

“Drop your weapon.”

Well, apparently, not that silent.

Jaxx twirled around, his knife by his side and ready.

A man aiming a small pistol at Jaxx’s chest was standing in the room, the main door to the apartment was behind him and closed. The guy’s cheeks were wet, his eyes bloodshot, and his face scraped with fresh wounds. “They killed my family.”

Jaxx dropped his knife, a pain engulfing his heart for the man in front of him. The Agadon had killed almost everyone here, except this man, and hopefully not the kid he was supposed to locate and take back to the hill where Mya and the rest were.

Jaxx’s breath came quick and shallow. “I’m so sorry.” He didn’t know if the guy thought he meant it, but it sure as hell didn’t register any kind of emotion coming from the man.

The guy lifted his gun, targeting Jaxx between the eyes. His arms shook and his lips quivered. “Are you one of them?”

Jaxx slowly shook his head. “I’m not. I’m a human. I’m here to help you.”

“Are you one of them shapeshifter aliens?” He looked Jaxx up and down, noticing his ripped muscles. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” His mouth came up into a smile, as if he finally had a target, finally had the piece of revenge he was seeking.

“No, trust me. I’m not.”

The door behind the man burst open. The guy twisted around, yelping loudly in surprise. He pulled the trigger.

Phhtah!

A bullet shot from the gun’s barrel and smoke rose from the muzzle.

Jaxx’s eyes went wide, seeing who’d just been hit. “No,” Jaxx screamed, grabbing the man in front of him, and pulling him back. He brandished the gun and threw it out of the window in one quick sweeping motion. “Help him.”

2

South of Whitefish, Montana

Drew was on the wooded covered hill, leaning up against a tree, in awe at what he saw.

Jaxx, his uncle, his own blood — his damn mother’s brother — had rushed into combat as if it was nothing, smashing two Agadon heads together like it was as simple as riding a bike. He then continued into the battle, dodging weapon’s fire, rolling away from explosions, and doing shit Drew had only seen make-believe super heroes perform.

Megan stood next to Drew, her mouth gaping open as well. Mya was crouched at the edge of the tree-covered hill, looking down at a town being rampaged by blue alien dudes with nothing better to do but end innocent lives.

A building crumbled to the ground as an energy bomb dropped from another starfighter. The hill quaked and the tree’s shook back and forth, and Megan braced against Drew. Mya didn’t move an inch, though. She was grounded to her spot, most likely using her mind-bending powers.

Mya inched forward. Drew could tell she wanted to be down there with Jaxx. But Jaxx was right. If they could keep Mya safe, then all the better. She was only six years old, after all.

Mya turned, her eyes welled up. “They’re doing mean things to the people down there.” She put her head in her hands. “I don’t want to hurt the bad people. Do I have to, Drew? Do I have to?”

Drew didn’t know the answer. He knew that Master Sergeant Angel Segarra, her father, would send her into town to end the blue-gray Agadon pricks down there without as much as batting an eye. But Segarra, thank God, wasn’t here.

“Let Jaxx deal with them, Mya. Okay?”

Mya nodded, her lower lip trembling.

Megan touched Drew’s arm, soothing him immediately. Maybe she liked him? Or, maybe he was growing on her? This woman was gorgeous. No, beyond gorgeous. And she was right here with Drew, side by side, like peas in a pod.

One look at her and Drew knew it wasn’t a loving touch.

Megan spoke up, “Drew, we have to go down there. If she can do something to end the disaster in that city, then she must.”

Drew thought for a moment, then glanced at Mya. His heart skipped a beat and he dashed forward, yanking Megan’s hand away from his arm. “Where did she go?”

Before Megan could answer, he spotted Mya racing down the hill and toward the city. “Shit. Not good.” He turned to tell Megan to stay, only to feel her brush against his body as she rushed down the hill after the little girl.

Mya looked back at Megan and Drew with a smile on her face. “I found the little boy. I know where he is.”

Drew pounded his legs down the grassy hill as fast they would take him, trying to catch Mya.

She made it to the same gate that Jaxx did when he first entered the city. “I found the boy who will help us. He and I will connect with Jaxx to beat the bad guys.” She backed up, ran, and hurdled the gate like she was jumping over a small rock.

Drew knew there was more to it than simply connecting up and beating the bad guys, but again, she was six years old and even though her communication was better than most children her age, her explanations were still young in nature. She wasn’t spilling the whole story. And Drew, being a journalist, needed the entire enchilada.

Megan made it to the gate before Drew and climbed over, landing on the other side. She gathered herself and ran after Mya.

Drew made it to the gate. He’d just put his hand on the top rail when a boom and a gush of wind threw him on his back, his head slamming into the dry, hard grass a millisecond later. He gasped and brought his hands to the back of his head, wondering which body part had sliced off of him.

He wiggled his toes and fingers.

Good. All body parts still intact.

He glanced up. What the hell just hit him? Megan was on the ground but Mya was on her feet, staring up at the sky. An Agadon craft was rising up from the city and above the buildings. It hovered for a moment, then zipped away quickly, heading south, sending a wave of energy, punching Drew and pressing a ridiculous amount of pressure against him.

The pressure letup and he went to get up. Another booming-sound reverberated over him and smashed him into the ground an instant later. It was a ship. He watched it blast forward, quickly fading in the smoky sky.

“Are they leaving?” asked Megan, standing and rubbing her bum.

Mya nodded, then paused. Her eyes went wide and her mouth gaped open. “Jaxx is in trouble.” She motioned for Drew and Megan to follow her, then vanished around a building.

Drew leaped to his feet and over the gate. He ran, hastily making it to Megan’s side. “Come on.” He passed her, turned a corner, and quickly halted.

Mya was sitting on the sidewalk, her eyes shut, her chin against her chest, and her arms out to the side. Was she acting like she was an airplane or something? She wasn’t humming, exactly, but there was a vibration coming off her that told him this was not child’s play. She was into some serious energetic shit.

She opened her eyes. “Jaxx is in there.” She pointed to the apartment complex in front of her.

Drew hurried to Mya, slightly out of breath. “He’s in this building?”

“Must be,” said Megan, making her way up the outside steps to the front door. She opened it.

Panic struck Mya again. “Someone’s trying to hurt him.” She jumped to her feet and ran through the entrance and up a staircase. “Hurry.”

Drew nodded and rushed after her, following Mya up the steps and through a door leading to a second floor corridor. He looked over his shoulder. Megan was behind them.

The hallway stunk of stale cigarette smoke and moth balls. This place was old.

Mya went from door to door, stopping, shaking her head, saying, “No. Not this one. No, not that one.” Her hands moved frantically back and forth. She rubbed her legs and her eyebrows rose higher and higher at every no. “He’s dealing with someone who’s heart is hurting. The person doesn’t care who he hurts. We have to —”

She stopped in front of a door and pointed like she was a dog sniffing out a duck.

“He’s in there?” asked Megan.

Drew didn’t wait for a response. He reached for the door, curling his fingers around the door knob.

“Not yet.” Mya lunged for him as Drew turned the knob, but it was too late. Drew swung the door open.

Phhtah!

A middle-aged man, his eyes narrowed, his face gnarled in anger, held a gun outward. He wore a green robe. It was stained in fresh, splattered blood. Who’s blood? Why the blood? It wasn’t Drew’s, was it?

Smoke rose from the gun’s muzzle and a burning sensation filled Drew’s stomach. He placed his palms against his abdomen and walked backwards into a wall, stammered, and slid down, his stomach aching like he hadn’t had food in days.

Megan’s hands flew to her mouth.

Drew blinked, cringing in pain. He’d been shot…by a human.

3

South of Whitefish, Montana

Jaxx jerked back. Was that Drew? He told them to stay back on the hill, to wait for him. It couldn’t be Drew. It shouldn’t be Drew. But it was.

Jaxx’s favorite nephew was on his butt, holding his stomach, blood all over his hands.

Jaxx had already thrown the man’s gun out of the window and didn’t have time to ask any questions. He rushed forward, slamming his shoulder into the shooter’s back. The guy toppled forward, crashing onto the apartment floor. Jaxx pressed his knee on the guy’s upper back, keeping him down.

“Let me go,” screamed the man. “You killed my family.” He kicked and punched, grabbing at air, doing his best to find something to hurt Jaxx with.

Jaxx reared his arm back, brought his hand into a fist, and punched the guy in the back of the head, knocking him out.

Jaxx stood and hastily paced into the hallway. The madman’s gun was small, so perhaps the bullet wouldn’t do too much damage. He cleared his throat and rubbed his face in concern. The wound didn’t just ooze, it gushed. He sure as shit knew his nephew probably wouldn’t survive unless they staunched the flow and got him to a doctor.

Megan was on one side of Drew, her hands over Drew’s hands, blood running down her fingers.

Drew took an uneasy breath and leaned his head back against the wall. “Shit, this hurts.” He winced in pain.

Mya briskly walked toward them, her face twisted in worry. “I’m sorry, Drew. I’m sorry. It was my fault.” She bent down and put her hands over both Megan’s and Drew’s. She took in a deep breath, her eyelids shutting, her eyes moving back and forth like she was searching for something. “I can help you, but we are supposed to take the bullet out. I can’t do it. It’s too deep. My small hands won’t be able to get to it. We have to find a doctor.” Mya’s hands started vibrating. “Megan and Drew, move your hands away.”

Drew shook his head. “No, no. It feels better if I don’t.”

Mya’s eyes brightened and a calm glow emanated from her. “I can make it stop hurting for a little bit.”

Drew swallowed, nodding his head up and down in short spurts. “Okay.” He was trembling, his hands shaking as he moved them away from his stomach. His body tensed up. “Ow, ow.”

Mya slid her hands directly over the bullet’s entry point. She sniffed loudly, then exhaled. She took in another inhale and her face reddened and began to perspire.

She lifted her hands. The blood was coagulating and the wound started closing up, stopping the blood flow.

“I helped it. It won’t last long. It’s temporary,” said Mya, her eyes flashing to Jaxx’s.

The apartment rumbled and Jaxx twisted around. Out of the kitchen window, he could see a craft flying away from the city. “That’s another one. They’re leaving the city.” Jaxx wanted to ask why, but neither he nor anyone in his rag-tag group would know the answer. Most importantly, though, Drew needed medical attention. “Let me pick Drew up. There’s bound to be a hospital or a doctor’s office around here.”

Jaxx bent down and lifted Drew, holding him like he’d hold a bride.

“Agh,” wailed Drew, his eyes rolling back. “Frickin’ hurts…bad. I just want to sleep.”

“Don’t,” said Jaxx. He walked down the corridor, holding Drew in his arms. He made it to the stairs and down them, being as cautious and careful as he could.

“We’re almost out of the apartment,” said Jaxx, taking his first step outside the apartment complex.

Mya stopped near Jaxx. “There are only a few Agadon left in the city and —” She put her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no. They’ve taken the boy.”

“Mya, I’ll find a doctor and you go get the —” He stopped himself. Although Agadon weren’t in sight, telling Mya to find the boy while he looked for a doctor wasn’t going to fly. Mya was a mere child and needed to be far away from this blowing-things-up business as possible. “Alright. Doctor first. Then boy second.”

Drew coughed. He turned his head, resting it against Jaxx’s shoulder. “Trust Mya. She can find the boy without us.”

Jaxx shook his head. “Megan, grab Mya, please. Make sure she stays in sight.”

Megan took Mya by the hand. “Let’s go find a doctor.”

Mya glanced at her feet. “That’s not wise, Jaxx. You find a doctor and I’ll find the boy.” She smiled as if this was the perfect plan and everyone would go for it now.

“Please, Mya. I know you want me to trust you, but you are going to have to trust me, as well,” responded Jaxx.

Mya softly nodded, her eyes meeting Jaxx’s. “Okay.”

Jaxx followed them in their quickened pace, holding Drew in his arms. They past a building, then rushed through a crosswalk ridden with holes in the asphalt and chunks of fallen buildings strewn everywhere.

Megan motioned toward a building with an emergency sign. It was a small, quaint hospital, probably roomy enough for a handful of patients at a time. For this small town, it was probably big enough.

Jaxx kicked aside a piece of broken concrete and turned toward the hospital. The hospital front glass doors opened automatically.

Inside, the lights flickered on and off, papers were scattered over the registration desks, lamps and chairs were tipped over, and a wall was blown to shreds.

Jaxx waltzed through a gigantic hole in the wall and to the back, where he assumed the emergency rooms were. He stopped in mid-stride and looked away. Dozens of people were lying face down, pools of blood surrounding them. He bit his lip, holding in a yell.

Megan screamed and Jaxx spun on his heels, startled.

Megan was standing and eyeing a room Jaxx walked by, her fingers splayed against her chest. She slowly shook her head, her eyes welling up. “Oh my God.” She pushed Mya back so she couldn’t get a look.

Jaxx made his way over to Megan and peered into the room. Doctors and nurses were on the floor, ankles bound and hands tied behind their backs. They all had been shot execution style.

Jaxx kicked the door closed. “Those…” He wanted to scream every name in the book, but squeezed his jaw instead. He’d seen enough of this shit to last him twenty lifetimes, and the pains of war were numbing him — though subtly — more and more, taking away his humanity. He didn’t like that as much as he didn’t like innocent people dying around him, though. “Let’s go.”

“What…was it?” asked Drew, his eyes closed, his breaths coming soft and short.

Jaxx found a surgery room and put Drew down on a doctor’s table. He slapped Drew’s cheeks. “Stay awake, buddy.” He waived Mya inside. “What do we do? How do we heal him, Mya?”

“Find a doctor to take the bullet out,” she replied, her eyes wide. “That’s all we can do right now.”

Jaxx threw his hands to the side. “There’s no doctor.” Jaxx closed his eyes, scanning the area for human signatures. He didn’t know what a doctor’s human signature looked like, but hell, maybe he’d find out. He let out a exasperated breath and opened his eyes. “I can’t locate any alive humans in the vicinity…at all,” complained Jaxx.

Mya took surgical pliers off of a tray next to the doctor’s table; the sound of metal against metal filled the room. “Can you get the bullet out, Jaxx?”

It didn’t matter that Jaxx had never attempted anything of the sort, but he had to try. It may just save Drew’s life.

He pushed Drew’s blood stained shirt above Drew’s belly button, seeing where a hole once was but was now a wound that was strangely healing itself and quickly. “I’ll have to cut the wound back open again to get in there.” He glanced around. “Find a knife.”

A ship powered up in the distance. He gave Mya an ominous stare.

She nodded her head, acknowledging she knew what he was thinking. The kid was on that ship and the Agadon were preparing to punch out of the city with that little boy. The Agadon obviously knew that this boy had something special inside of him, something that could end humanity’s miserable existence on Earth once and for all. “Megan, can you attempt to get the bullet out of Drew?”

“Yes,” she motioned for Jaxx to leave. “Go, go. Get the boy.”

Jaxx dipped his head and rushed out of the room, down the hallway, and into the lobby. The Agadon craft’s boosters lit up, booming across the city. The good news, it gave away their location. The bad news, it meant they were leaving any minute.

The hospital’s glass doors opened and Jaxx ran outside and down the sidewalk. He turned a corner and paused. The back of a ship faced him, the ramp still open.

An Agadon held a young boy who was scratching and clawing, doing everything that his small body could do to break from the alien’s hold.

Jaxx brought more Chi to his legs, a process that was becoming simple, almost automatic. He took off, pounding his feet across the blacktop, jumping off the sidewalk, and hopping over debris and dead humans.

“Hey,” he shouted. “Put that boy down.”

The Agadon took several paces into the ship and turned, his face as expressionless as a rock. He set the thrashing kid on a chair and strapped the little guy in.

Jaxx came closer, his steps speeding faster at every footfall. The alien reached for something and the sound of a chainsaw pierced the air — the Agadon’s laughter. The gray-lipped beast pulled out an ion cannon and rested the heavy sucker on his hip, then pointed it at Jaxx. The Agadon pulled the trigger, the heavy cannon bouncing back into the alien’s hip, smoke drawing out of the corners of the thick, round muzzle.

Wapoom!

A blue blast screamed toward Jaxx.

Jaxx sidestepped, missing the incoming fire, only to hear more cannon fire coming his way. But Jaxx was closing in. Just another step and he dove into the ship.

Wapoom!

A shot singed his thigh, searing a burning pain across his upper leg. It threw Jaxx off his trajectory, and he landed with a loud thud against the craft’s inner side wall next to a rack of rifles. The impact shook the Agadon weapons off the rack and to the floor.

In one swift motion, Jaxx twisted, slamming his knee into the Agadon’s side. The Agadon bent over for an instant, then straightened, his face like a blank wall of nothing. Other than Taz, Jaxx had never seen an Agadon express any emotion whatsoever — not even pain.

“You are Jaxx?” asked the Agadon, calculating something in his head. “Yes, you are. I see you in the Aga-base.” He tapped his temple a few times, indicating that’s where Jaxx’s information popped up. The thing’s brain was probably a mechanical, biological, and digital algorithm-spitting computer.

Jaxx pulled Chi up from his solar plexus and into his hands. He thrust a fist at the Agadon’s cannon, knocking it away, then jumped and twisted in the air, wrapping his legs around the Agadon’s neck, and twisted again.

A metallic crack filled the ship’s cabin and the Agadon went limp, falling to the floor. Its legs twitched and its arms slithered like a snake. A hiss, then sparks jumped from the Agadon’s neck. The alien’s body relaxed, turning off, and it lay motionless.

Jaxx went to unstrap the boy, lunging forward to get the kid out of the seat and back to the hospital. If this kid was like Mya, as he suspected, then maybe he could help Mya fix Drew. Two people were sometimes better than one.

Jaxx hesitated. “Where did the punk go?” The chair was empty, the straps broken and sliced to shreds. The boy was gone.

4

South of Whitefish, Montana

“Your name is Jaxx, right?”

Jaxx straightened in a start and looked over his shoulder toward the cockpit. The boy, maybe eight years old, was sitting on the cockpit chair, moving the control stick around and making, “Pew, pew,” laser-like sounds as if he was playing a video game.

Jaxx took a gander at the seat belt and then back at the kid — an African-American boy with short-cut hair, beautiful brown skin that glowed, and a violet aura with rainbow specks. This had to be the young man Mya was looking for.

Jaxx made his way to him, ready to snatch him up and take him out of the ship.

The kid held up a knife. “My names Damion. You’re not taking me anywhere. We’re using this ship.”

Jaxx furrowed his brows. “Why?”

For a kid to be this confident, this blunt, he had to know something important. Jaxx eyed the ramp and outside, making sure an Agadon wasn’t sneaking up on them.

“You’ll see,” he flashed Jaxx a smile, then went back to playing whatever game he was playing with the control stick.

Jaxx blinked a few times. Was this kid for real? “I need —”

“Jaxx,” screamed Megan.

Jaxx ran to the edge of the ramp, placing his hand on a side wall. Megan was coming around a corner, pushing an unconscious Drew in a hospital-issue wheelchair. Mya was running behind her.

Drew was pale. Death was closer than Jaxx originally thought.

Jaxx frowned and his heart palpitated. Why didn’t Drew listen? Why did Mya come into the city when he explicitly told her not to? He had to get this kid, Damion, and Mya away from danger and to safety as soon as possible. Hell, that had to be Jaxx’s next step.

Megan wheeled Drew up to the ramp and into the ship’s cabin.

“He doesn’t look good, at all.” Jaxx wondered if his shocked face was as white as Drew’s. “You couldn’t take out the bullet?”

“No, and I think I made him worse,” replied Megan, shaking her hands and slightly bouncing up and down in a panic. “He started to bleed massively, but Mya used her energy to patch him back up.”

“It won’t last long,” Mya chimed in. “We have to find someone to help him. I can’t heal anyone with a bullet. It’s not an energy weapon. I can’t make a bullet wound disappear like I can with energy.”

“Yes you can,” said Damion, swiveling his chair around, playing with his fingers. “We just have to learn. That’s pretty advanced stuff.”

“Who is that?” asked Megan.

“That’s one of the gifted,” responded Mya, walking over to Damion. “Do you think we could help him together? Maybe we could link up?”

Damion shook his nose at her. “Nope. Not yet. We need a third child, but depending on which one we get, I don’t know if that one would know how to make a bullet vanish.”

Jaxx gently shook Drew. “Wake up, buddy.” He gulped down a big swallow, more or less a big cry. Drew was all the family he had, and strangely, he always loved the little tike — not so little anymore. “I need you.”

Drew’s eyelids fluttered. “Hi, J…Jaxx.” He took in a deep breath and his eyes shot wide, his mouth screwing up in pain. “It…hurts. It feels like…my stomach…is rotting away or…burning up. One of the two. I can’t figure…out which.”

“Yeah —”

Puckchrrrrr!

A loud sound interrupted Jaxx and he spun around to see what it was. Outside the craft, a ship was descending. Flames shot out of the ship’s belly and the ship hovered lower and lower. It clanked loudly when it landed. Its engines came to a slow, but gradual halt.

A United States flag was stamped on the outside cabin. The doors opened and out stepped a large Marine, cap on, muscles bulging. The guy didn’t look happy.

5

South of Whitefish, Montana

Drew wanted to die.

Crap. He couldn’t, though. He was supposed to rule over something, according to Mya. Rule over what? That part was still unclear.

By this time tomorrow, he’d no doubt be dead. In that sorry state, he’d be ruling over a gravestone and some dirt, which probably wasn’t what Mya had in mind.

Drew heard a craft land. Jaxx dashed toward the end of the ramp, surprise in his eyes.

But everything was a blur. And, hell, of all things, he was even hallucinating a boy named Damion.

Or was this the boy Mya was looking for? Was Damion real? He attempted to shrug, but pain soared through him just by thinking of lifting his shoulders.

Drew blinked several times, then yawned. He lurched forward, gripping his tensed stomach.

Don’t yawn. Bad idea.

Megan tapped him on his cheek bone, taking him out of his drawn-out stupor and his cringing pain. “Yes?” he said. His face slackened when he saw worry written all over her face.

Yeah, he got it, he understood what was happening to him, but until he saw that look in Megan’s eyes, it hadn’t fully sunk in — he was a goner, soon to be another victim in this drawn-out alien bullshit war.

“Jaxx,” said Drew in a drunken tone. “Get back in here. We have to fix…we have to fix me.”

Jaxx continued his long stare outside, ignoring Drew. He ducked his head back in. “A Marine is coming our way.”

Mya perked up, her mouth slipping into a giant smile. “Dad?” She rushed to Jaxx’s side. Her hands went up in excitement. She jumped off of the ramp, disappearing from view, only to appear in Master Sergeant Angel Segarra’s arms a few moments later as he stepped onto the ramp. She was hugging her father, kissing his cheek several times.

His serious expression changed and he laughed, giving her a kiss, his smile fading when he saw Drew. He let Mya down. “What’s happened?”

“I was shot.” Drew touched his belly for emphasis.

Segarra’s face hardened. “Those pieces of shits.”

Drew slowly shook his head, letting out a giggle, his drunken voice trailing on. “No, no, no. The funny part about this is that it was a human who shot me, not an Agadon.”

Segarra crossed his arms. “What the hell?” He leaned into his shoulder mic. “Do we have a doctor on board?”

“Negative, sir,” came the reply. “Where we’re headed, there are several doctors.”

Segarra nodded in agreement. “Perfect.” He looked Jaxx up and down, Jaxx doing the same to him. Two equal bad-asses knowing each one could fuck the other up. “Who are you?”

“Kaden Jaxx. I’m here —”

“To save the world,” Mya butted in.

Segarra looked Jaxx up and down again, then took a step away from him and toward his craft. “Alright. Follow us. We’re heading to Denver.”

“Denver?” inquired Jaxx. “What for?”

“That’s where a huge standoff is taking place between my guys…” he thumbed over his shoulder, gesturing to the carnage in the city. “…and the assholes who did that. There will be plenty of medical help there. We’ll guide you to the base.”

Jaxx shifted on his feet, standing more erect. “Not with these children on board.”

“Excuse me, Sir?” responded Segarra.

Jaxx cocked his head to the side, motioning toward Damion. “They aren’t going anywhere near the combat hotspots. Understand?”

Segarra’s face contorted. He took a step toward Jaxx, pressing his finger on his chest. Jaxx didn’t budge. “You listen to me and you listen well. I’m in charge of the United States defense against these blue sons of bitches. My daughter can take an entire regiment out in seconds and you think we should just leave her someplace nice and rosey-like so thousands more of my men and women can die?”

Jaxx stepped into Segarra’s finger. “The kids are important to ridding the entire planet of the Agadon. If we don’t keep these two kids safe, then not just thousands, but millions and even billions more will die.”

Segarra’s nostrils flared. “Billions already have.”

“Listen chief, I —”

“Stop,” yelled Mya. “We are going, Jaxx. There is a third child in Denver that can help us.”

Damion stood, crossing his arms like Segarra. “She’s right. I feel the child too. It’s a girl.”

Drew raised his shaking hand, dried blood caked on his palm. “I have a suggestion. Let’s get this bullet out of my six-pack abs and save the world afterwards?” He paused, a sting of agony running up to his throat. It subsided quickly. “And, Jaxx, please trust Mya.”

Jaxx balled up his hands. “No. They are too important. We’re not moving until I can find a safe refuge for them.”

Pfffshhhhhhh!

The ramp hissed and started to close, jostling Jaxx and pushing him into the cabin. Segarra jumped back onto the ground outside and out of the way, nearly losing his balance.

Drew’s eyebrows squished closer together. “What’s —” A ball of pain jumped in his stomach, slamming into his innards. He leaned forward, clutching his belly. Damn, it hurt. There was no way he was going to make it if they don’t find a doctor right away. Maybe he could make the flight, but not much longer after that. “What’s going on?”

Megan was in the cockpit. Her hand was on a button, giving Jaxx an incredulous stare. How did she know the exact button to press? Her voice was low, but powerful. “You are forgetting your nephew. We need to find him a hospital right away.”

Jaxx gasped. Drew could tell Jaxx knew Megan was right. “I’m sorry, Drew.” Jaxx let out a loud breath. “We’ll deal with my issue when we get you fixed up.” He walked by Drew and touched his nephew on the top of the head. “Everyone. Strap in.”

Jaxx sat at the cockpit seat and eyed the control panel for a moment. “These are written in English?”

Damion gave a curt laugh. “Don’t you know the craft adapts to you? Not the other way around?”

Megan got behind Drew and wheeled him forward next to her seat. She locked the wheelchair in place with its brakes. She sat, holding on to his arm rest. She patted his forearm. “We’ll get you the help you need.”

Drew knew he wasn’t a doctor but he could see that he was bleeding internally. It hurt like hell and he could see his stomach bulging. It was puffing out far too much, creating a sack-like substance in his lower abdomen. “I don’t think I’ll make it.”

“Going up,” yelled Jaxx, taking a look over his shoulder, making sure everyone was strapped in. “We’ll follow your dad, Mya.”

Mya gave a thumbs up. “We’ll be fine, Jaxx. Trust me. Okay?”

Jaxx didn’t respond and the craft vibrated, then lifted off the ground. “Next stop,” said Jaxx, “Denver.”

6

Nearing Rock Springs, Wyoming

Jaxx followed Segarra’s Marine ship — a craft with a wide cabin, twice the size of a 747 cruise liner in width, but the length of a small puddle jumper, fifty-passenger jet. It had several cannons under the long, wide, drawn-back wings, and was painted in camouflage. Much different than the more rounded Agadon flying transport Jaxx was in right now.

They flew low, giving Jaxx an altimeter reading of one-thousand feet. The terrain below was dry, brown, and flat with some hills in the distance. They were coming up on a vast city, though without big skyscrapers, telling Jaxx this wasn’t a metropolis.

The holy-shit holodisplay blinked, Rock Springs, Wyoming.

He pressed a few holographic buttons, zeroed in on Segarra’s ship, and set his craft’s course to latch onto Segarra’s trajectory. In laymen’s terms, autopilot would trail Segarra’s craft without need of Jaxx piloting it — for a while.

And there was something Jaxx needed to do. A question that had been burning in his mind since he’d returned to Earth. He stood. “Mya and Damion, can I speak with you?”

Drew was asleep, breathing well, hopefully out of pain. Megan was conked out as well, no doubt tired from the lack of sleep she’d most likely had since the alien invasion started.

Mya smiled, her eyes bright and excited. Damion, on the other hand, was stern, like a teacher to a problem student. The kid just wasn’t happy.

“My parent’s let me find you, and you want me to turn back and find safety instead?” groaned Damion, his eyes searching Jaxx’s.

Jaxx assumed Damien’s parents were dead. Clearly, there was a lot more to it, though the questions had to come later. “That’s not why I want to speak with you. We need to link up. I need to know why the pyramid network is still open on Earth, but nowhere else.”

Mya beamed. “Let’s hold hands and close our eyes.” Mya put her hands out, touching Damion’s and Jaxx’s.

Jaxx kneeled down and grabbed on to Damion’s as well. He closed his eyes and a blast of static electricity shot through him. His body trembled and he shook uncontrollably. A thousand volts streaked up his spine and back down into his sacrum, lighting up his DNA, opening dormant strands in order to connect to the pyramid nexus.

A golden light encapsulated his vision. He shot out of his body, hovering above Earth, then above the solar system, moving faster, higher and farther away until he was above a grid connecting all pyramids from one side of the galaxy to the other. It was large, resembling crisscross patterns of light — like a spider’s web.

A download blasted into his mind from a higher source, one more wise, one that even its name would rock Jaxx to his knees.

He clenched his teeth as images, voices, and instructions ran through him like a hailstorm. Yes, indeed all pyramids created in the cosmos were connected, and were for means of instant travel, healing, and energy to power anything small and large — as long as you knew how to harness that specific energy.

But why wasn’t it working on Earth? Why didn’t the pyramid nexus close here? What was the challenge?

In a matter of seconds, he found himself hovering over the Great Pyramid of Giza in Cairo, Egypt. A golden light beamed out of the pyramid’s capstone, merging with a grid of lights just above. Jaxx nodded, understanding this was just a piece to a puzzle. This pyramid was broken — in a way. Humans had blasted away portions of the pyramid, chipped away at important copper rods, cones, conductive properties, and had stolen ancient and important hieroglyphs, stripped the pyramid’s outer white casing, and on and on.

Because of this, the pyramid had malfunctioned.

Back on Callisto, when Jaxx had opened the galactic pyramid network, the golden web connecting all pyramids had opened on Earth, just as they did in the rest of the galaxy. But since the pyramids on Earth had been tampered with, the network’s energies flooded too far outside of the pyramid walls, compromising Earth’s nexus.

In essence, the energy was no longer contained, and connecting to other pyramids in the galaxy couldn’t be done with Earth-bound pyramids, at least not at the moment. Through the years, curious minds and greedy hands picked away at the behemoths, and in turn, harmed them. Closing Earth’s network to reset the nexus was going to be tricky — if it could be closed at all.

Did they need to fix the pyramids across the world? Repair them? If so, that would be nearly impossible and would take millions of people across all races, religions, and backgrounds.

Jaxx sunk deeper in his meditation, his breaths going longer, slower.

How do I remedy the problem?

A sensation came over him, telling his spirit body to move upward in his hover.

He did, touching one of the strands of lights, and was instantaneously transported to the Pyramid of Cestius in Rome, Italy. It had also been touched by humans in the past, all curious to know more about the pyramid, yet it wasn’t hampered as much as the Pyramid of Giza. Nonetheless, the energy was flowing too far outside the pyramid’s beautiful walls.

He touched another strand, and the world around him turned into a blur as he zipped away, heading toward another pyramid. He halted above Xi’an, China at the Qin Shi Mausoleum Pyramid, his own body a shining Being of light, almost the same color as the pyramid network.

Yet, this wasn’t what he was looking for.

Yes, this one had been tampered with, but so what? He didn’t need to see every damaged masterpiece. But there was something missing, something unique that would tell him how to close the network, to push the Agadon out of E-quadrant — Earth’s system.

He touched another beam of light. This time, he was above the Pyramid of the Sun in Teotihuacan, Mexico. He was getting closer, he could feel it.

A light above him fizzed. It was different than all other golden energy shafts connecting to every pyramid on Earth and beyond. That light was an enigma, something important. He pushed himself into it and flew like a bat out of hell, the wind rushing against his etheric body.

A loud whoosh filled his ears and just like that, he stopped in a hover. He glanced down at his feet, seeing what was below him.

Was that Machu Picchu?

Beautiful lush, green grass glowed on covered flat rocks. It was surrounded by well-built structures made from rock quarried from somewhere afar. Yet, this wasn’t it. The answer was underneath.

His eyes, like x-ray vision, saw through the mountain that this city sat upon. Deep within, tucked in a cavern that could fit a baseball stadium, was a black, pristine pyramid.

That was it. The hidden piece. The key pyramid.

He’d found it.

He took a deep breath and shot back into his body. He jerked, his mind racing, his questions answered. He opened his eyes and dropped his arms by his sides.

Jaxx spoke as if someone was speaking through him. His mind was clear, his tone strong, and words sprang off his tongue like a channeled song. “Every planet in the galaxy gifted with pyramids has a key pyramid. That key is a pyramid cased in black granite born from the center of our galaxy. And one child in each galaxy, out of the trillions of galaxies, is fit with a DNA strand to turn that key pyramid on and off. This pyramid is like a nexus control valve. And, as I’m the DNA key to our galaxy, I’m the one who can flip the switch, or turn the nozzle on and off.”

He cleared his throat, coming out of his harmonious state, shaking his head like a dog. “Whoa, that was a rush.” He cleared his mind and thought for a moment. “We enter the key pyramid and close the network in Peru, South America at Machu Picchu. It’s the only way. We can reset the network, then open it back up correctly to allow only the positive ET’s access.”

Mya put her hands together. “Well done, Jaxx.” She glanced at Damion. “We need a third child of the same frequencies and vibrations that our aura’s have in order to close the network. And we have found her exact location in Denver.”

Damion nodded. “Yeppers.”

Jaxx stood, not liking what he was hearing. “Are you suggesting you two, along with a third, are coming along with me to Peru?”

Mya unbuckled and stood on her chair, doing her best to be as tall as Jaxx. “Yes. Please, Jaxx. Let us come along. It’s the only way. You’re the key, but in order to use yourself as a key, you must have three nearby with similar frequencies as you.”

Jaxx turned and walked toward the cockpit. “When we reach Denver, you can find your third. That’s fine. Once you are within the cover of safety, you can link up with me again while I make my trek to Machu Picchu’s underground pyramid. Do you understand?”

Mya sat down, slouching, her head in her hands. “That’s not the way, Jaxx. It won’t work unless we are all there. Don’t you feel that? Didn’t the source of it all show you that when we linked up just now?”

The source of it all? What was Mya talking about?

“Jaxx doesn’t know, Mya.” Damion shook his head. “He will ruin it for everyone, and those two over there won’t live to rule.”

Mya scrunched up her nose at Jaxx. “Megan and Drew are destined to rule. Don’t stop that.”

Destined to rule? His nephew? The kid was a genius, but a leader? Not even close. These two children were talking nonsense. Jaxx had a mission, and part of his mission was keeping them all alive. He was sure of it. He couldn’t deviate from that plan.

The craft began to descend. Jaxx rushed over to the cockpit, taking over the controls. A bright light flashed in the distance, past a city with skyscrapers. A small mushroom cloud filled the smoky sky, and balls of fire erupted miles in front of him.

It was Denver. They were heading into a war zone. His plan to keep everyone safe may have just taken a nose dive.

7

Denver, Colorado

Drew jostled in his seat, and for a moment, he felt fine with no pain seeping out of his stomach. Maybe the entire episode of him being shot was just a screwed-up dream. Most likely, the entire alien invasion and the United States government leaving Earth was just a big, bad nightmare.

He smacked his lips together and reached for his bong on the table next to his bed. He was glad he was back in Charlotte, North Car —

“Agh,” his hands flew to his abdomen. He cringed, his eyes squinting. Why was he hurting so much? His face went slack and he swallowed hard. “No,” he whispered, realizing like a swat to the back of his head, this crappy dream was a reality. He had been shot. The government had left the planet. And Earth was under attack.

Worst off, he was on an Agadon transport heading somewhere that must be over the rainbow because it was taking forever.

He slouched. His innards burned like acid boiling his skin.

A flash of heat washed over him and the ship jarred to the right, then steadied itself a moment later.

He went to move, to turn, to see what the tremor on the ship was about, but his body was weak and shivered like he had a fever. Except, he was now cold and his hands were clammy. He caught a glimpse of a gorgeous woman sitting next to him. She was touching his arm. Who was she? Did he have a girlfriend? Damn, if so, she was hot.

“Drew, the ride is about to get more bumpy, okay?” said the woman.

She talked to him like a mom to a child. Wait, was this Laura, his mother? No, it couldn’t be. Where was his mom? She usually arrived in times like these.

He rubbed his eyes, the pain growing in his stomach. A bullet was lodged deep inside him and he was beginning to lose his mind, forgetting what was what, and who was who. He winced. “I don’t know you. Please help me.”

Her voice was soft, comforting. “I’m Megan, your friend from Whitefish, Montana. And we’re getting you to help.”

“My friend?”

The ship bounced up and down. Drew pitched forward, agony searing up his abdomen and all the way to his throat.

“We’re heading into a shit-fire,” yelled someone up front. “Hold on.”

Was that the pilot?

It didn’t matter because right now, and more than anything, Drew needed water. He was thirsty. In fact, he’d take a pitcher and down it right here and now. He smacked his lips again, his mouth parched, and turned his head left and right. No faucet, no glasses, and most of all, no pitcher of water was in view.

He went to get up. Nope. Misery. Searing, hot misery. It was the burning I-hate-you kind of pain. He leaned his head back, the ache wanting to take him to death’s doorstop. He’d accept it to just get over this bloody-hell agony.

“Hey, pretty lady?” said Drew in an intoxicated tone. “Can you shoot me right here?” He touched his forehead. “End me qui —”

The transport bucked hard, then trembled as if it was being pelted by thousands of rocks. His stomach balled up, the burn taking him farther and farther away from life. The last thing he saw was the craft’s ceiling, the blue iridescent lights subtly pulsing. He shut his eyes and everything faded to black.

8

Denver, Colorado

Jaxx tilted the craft, doing his best to dodge a stray burst blast coming from a starfighter battle a few miles away on the gray horizon. Broken pieces of dead and blown-up ship debris found its way to Jaxx’s transport on a wind’s gust, slamming into his craft like hail against a car.

It probably did little damage, but he needed to be alert and careful. Bigger chunks of destroyed wings and engines may be out there.

He lowered the craft, successfully moving away from another debris cloud that was headed for him. He leveled the ship, searching for more shit heading his way, viewing tinges of green and blue ships avoiding weapons fire, some blowing up to shreds.

They needed to be on the ground, and fast.

He huffed. Where was the Secret Space Program when you needed them most? Hell, they never made it to Callisto, not that he could tell. Perhaps Slade, now dead and gone, had orchestrated some type of catastrophic event that ended Starship Atlantis and the entire SSP fleet?

He doubted it. More than likely, they were off finding another place to call home.

“Oh my God, Drew,” shouted Megan.

Jaxx twirled in his chair, seeing Megan doing her best to wake Drew. His nephew was as white as a vampire. Jaxx sucked in a quick breath, his nerves getting the better of him. Was Drew dead? He switched the autopilot on. He didn’t have much time. They’d be landing at the military base soon and he needed to be at the controls.

He unstrapped and made his way over to Drew. He leaned his ear next to his nose. Air. In and out, in and out. Drew was breathing, though faintly.

Mya unbuckled, along with Damien, and hurried to Drew.

Mya put her hands on Drew’s feet. “Damion, touch his forehead. We’re going to run healing energy back and forth, okay?”

Damion nodded and did as he was told, closing his eyes. For several minutes, the cabin was quiet and Jaxx and Megan looked on as the two kids worked the best miracles they could find.

Mya took her hands off of Drew. His breathing slowed and was deeper. In a way, Drew seemed a tad better and pink rose in his cheeks.

Mya gave Jaxx a melancholy look. “We’re losing him.” She slumped and a tear fell from her cheek. She became rigid, her muscles tightened, and her chin quivered. “We don’t have much time.”

“How much time do we have?” Jaxx inquired, raising his eyebrows and swallowing down a knot forming in his throat.

“What do you think, Mya? A day?” asked Damion.

Mya shrugged, her eyes falling to the floor. “Maybe two.”

Shit. Jaxx rushed to the cockpit. He had to get to a doctor, and fast. “Strap in.”

Segarra’s craft descended.

Jaxx slowed the transport, following Segarra toward a large brick building — rounded in the front and covered in windows — attached to several square buildings. It looked like a half-crazed castle that the contractor — halfway through the project — decided a castle really wasn’t what he desired.

Other strange buildings surrounded it, some bigger, some smaller. A large fence lined the area, and white bags filled with sand or something thick, enclosed the fence line. Turrets, rail guns, heavy weaponry, and military crafts topped the buildings and littered the ground.

This place meant business.

He brought his ship to a hover and descended. He checked the holodisplay, the ground, and the holodisplay again. “Need to be careful here,” he said to himself. Parking the small beast in between two crafts wasn’t so easy.

Space-age parallel parking.

Vvvvwapock!

The craft gently bounced as the skids touched down. Jaxx turned the ion drives off and the ship hissed, powering down.

He pounded the ramp button, and steam wheezed, unsealing from the craft. The ramp lowered, clanging loudly against the pavement.

Jaxx stood and paced over to Drew, full of concern. He stifled his emotions and quieted his mind. If he had learned anything during combat by fighting both the Kelhoon and the Agadon, any distractions within himself was a distraction from his mission. Every second counted. Every emotion could be dealt with later.

Megan took off her shirt, revealing a tank top. She balled up her shirt and put it between Drew’s head and the wheelchair’s head rest. She wheeled him forward and toward the ramp, while every few seconds adjusting Drew’s head, keeping it from flopping forward or to one side or the other.

Drew was in good hands.

“Do you need help?” Jaxx asked.

“Yes. Let’s find a doctor.” She pushed Drew onward, hastily moving by Jaxx.

Jaxx took a quick step forward, ready to help, then halted for a moment. He bent down next to Mya and Damion. He didn’t have kids of his own, and wasn’t used to them, but he had to be strict. “Stay by my side, okay?”

Mya put her hand up. “Hold my hand, Jaxx.”

He did and a soft energy oozed up his arm and wrapped around his body. He stood straighter. Damion grabbed his other hand. Jaxx lurched back.

A new child popped into his mind, one he knew was the third piece they were looking for. She had blonde hair, blue eyes, and was maybe seven years old. Jaxx couldn’t tell, but her aura was just like Damion’s and Mya’s. “What’s her name?”

“Lily,” mentioned Damion. “You’re not going to mess this up, Jaxx. We’ll make sure of it.”

Jaxx glanced down, seeing a very strong boy gazing up at him. Damion wasn’t about shits and giggles. He was about getting crap done and efficiently.

Megan was off the ramp and well on her way to somewhere, ignoring anything but her hell-bent objective to get Drew some help. And rightly so.

Jaxx hurried toward the ramp, both kids still holding his hands.

Segarra turned the corner, placing one foot on the ramp, the other remaining off. “Hi, baby doll.”

Mya let go of Jaxx and ran to her papa. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck as he scooped her into his arms. There was real love, Jaxx couldn’t deny it, but there was also negligence from a father to a daughter. Segarra was using his daughter against the Agadon, putting her in grave danger.

Jaxx would make sure to put that to a stop. But later. He needed to get Drew some help, and now.

Vvvvvvvvkichu! Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!

Jaxx ducked, then eyed the ceiling. “What the hell?”

Segarra chuckled. “Don’t worry, Jaxx. It’s our base’s force field. It turned off while we flew in. And as you can hear, it’s now on. You’ll hear a buzz around the base the entire time you’re here. It’s annoying, but needed.”

“Interesting base,” commented Jaxx as he stepped out of the ship, Damion squeezing his hand like he was holding onto a leash.

“We’ve taken over the Denver Public Library and the Denver Art Museum, plus the buildings around it,” explained Segarra. “We’ve made it our own home…for now.”

Damion squeezed harder and Jaxx looked down. Damion bounced up and down, his eyes darting left and right. Jaxx put his finger up, telling Segarra to hold on a minute. “What is it, Damion?”

The kid shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Mya gasped. “Oh, no.”

Segarra eyed her. “Are you okay, honey?”

The buzzing-sound stopped and Segarra gave a funny look. He scratched his chin. “That’s odd.”

Wampoom! Wampoom!

A concussion rocked the base. Jaxx lifted Damion and dashed away from the craft, Segarra following him with Mya in his arms.

Wampoom!

A direct hit, and a building next to the library and museum burst into flames, a quarter of the building breaking apart like a concrete waterfall. Chunks and rubble spilled into the street, and a puff of white dust rose toward the sky.

Metallic voices reverberated off the buildings. The Agadon. They were inside the base walls.

The base turrets turned, spun, and spewed energy blasts toward a destroyed portion of the fence line. Dirt and blacktop blasted into the air, turning the area into a thick, messy fog.

The turrets shut off and everything went quiet.

“Move,” said Segarra. “We’ll hunker down in the library. We’ve set that place up well. It’s damn near impenetrable.”

Segarra had to be the world’s biggest optimist, or an idiot. The Agadon could find their way into just about anything. Nonetheless, Jaxx was out of options, and his nephew was in need of some serious medical attention. He turned, dashing after Segarra.

“Jaxx,” came a metallic voice.

Jaxx glance around, continuing after Segarra. An Agadon emerged from the fog. It began to laugh. Was that Taz — the Agadon that had the same powers as him?

The base turrets zipped to life, sucking in, then blowing out thick, energetic balls of hell. The Agadon jumped out of the way, missing the concussion blast by mere inches. Again, the turret’s died down. The smoke cleared and there was no one there.

Jaxx shook his head. No way could Taz be on the planet. The guy met his doom back on Callisto during Jaxx’s prison escape.

“Jaxx.”

It was the voice again.

He turned, back peddling away from the voice. And there he was, the blue asshole, standing behind the gate.

Shit.

It was Taz. Somehow, the prick was back.

9

Denver, Colorado

Megan stopped the wheelchair. Drew woke up and immediately wanted to throw up. The bullet felt like it was moving back and forth inside the goo that kept his organs attached.

He touched his belly. It was protruding more, bloated from internal bleeding. He shook his head in dismay. He wasn’t going to make it.

He glanced at the gorgeous woman pushing him, and his memories flooded back. Yes, that was Megan. The trauma had induced amnesia for a brief period, but he was glad his memory was back. Where in the world was he now?

Megan backed the wheelchair up and heaved forward, pressing Drew onward and over the newly formed bumps in the wheelchair ramp by the explosions nailing the area nearby, shifting the concrete.

Drew glanced around, looking for Jaxx and the kids. They were leaving the confines of the craft and rushing toward him. Segarra was with them and Drew nodded to himself. Yes, he was at Segarra’s base. They mentioned he could get help here.

An explosion sparked up, tearing apart a turret near a security gate, portions of the weapon thrown across the building they were about to enter. Thick smoke wafted to his nose, sharing with it a mix of gun powder and burning asphalt.

They came up to the front glass doors. Megan pulled the handle.

Locked.

She pulled again, staring at a wide eyed woman in military garb on the other side of the glass doors. She pulled the handle again.

It didn’t budge.

Another explosion and Megan ducked. The military woman ducked around a corner, disappearing from view.

Megan pounded the door. “Let us in.”

Another woman marched her way to the door, peeking through it. She held herself strong, but Drew could tell that underneath she was starting to crack, panic setting in.

The woman shook her head, saying something Drew couldn’t hear.

Megan hit the door again.

The woman mouthed, “Bullet proof.”

That must have meant that no matter how much you pound on it, it wasn’t going to break.

Megan pointed to Drew’s stomach. “He’s been shot. We need a doctor.”

The woman’s face slackened and the corners of her eyes drooped down slightly. She shook her head, glanced at a clipboard in her hand. She looked up, mouthing, “I’m so sorry.” She pointed over Drew’s shoulder. “Doctors…city…that way.”

Megan turned Drew’s wheelchair around. Over yonder, where the damn grunt was pointing, was chock full of small mushroom clouds and toppled skyscrapers, their charred and pointed remains thrusting toward the sky.

The city was taking a beating Drew didn’t want to attend. He blinked away his stomach pain a few times. “Not a chance in hell.”

Megan let out a big sigh. That wasn’t comforting. “We have to. I know it’s a hike, but we have to find help. Or…” she paused.

“I’ll know. I’ll die.”

Segarra, Mya in his arms, dashed past Drew and Megan. He swiped a card on a panel next to the door. It beeped and he pulled the door open. He touched Megan’s shoulder. “Get your guy into emergency surgery. There are doctors, surgeons, and hell…it’s like a medical Disneyland in there. Just don’t step on the weapons.”

Jaxx was behind him, holding the Damion kid. Why couldn’t they just do their magic and heal him?

Megan pushed him through the doorway and into the…library? Books were everywhere, lined on shelves in a thousand rows scattered throughout the building. People were shouting, and Marines were marching around gathering equipment, guns, speaking on devices strapped to their shoulders, and rushing out doors.

Explosions shook the building. Some Marines ducked, others flew into action and out more doors, going God-knows-where.

“Follow me,” shouted Segarra. He rounded a corner so fast, Mya’s head whipped back. She held on tighter, her hands gripping his camouflage jacket like a cat with claws hanging on for dear life.

They came to a wide stairway, white and granite-looking, or marble. Right now Drew couldn’t tell. His eyes were starting to blur.

Segarra frantically eyed the area, then put Mya on the ground. “Jaxx, put down the child. I don’t see a ramp. Help me lift Drew down the stairwell.”

It was an order, not a question. And Jaxx complied. Megan skirted out of the way as Jaxx took the wheelchair by the push handles and Segarra grabbed the forks just above the front caster wheels.

They lifted and Drew bobbed up and down as they descended, step by hurried step, to the lower floor, not seeming to care if it jostled the shit out of his abdomen and everything inside.

But it didn’t hurt as much as it should have had. Drew was numb and beginning to turn cold. And for some reason, his stomach didn’t ache anymore. That had to be a bad sign.

They put him down and Megan took over, pushing Drew forward, following Segarra as he paced quickly down a corridor.

“Just up ahead,” said Segarra, motioning them along.

A whining sound filled the hallway, then a pop and a fizz. Immediately, Segarra threw himself at Drew, waving his hands in the air like a maniac. “Get the kids out of here.”

Krakakakooj!

The building rocked, and the room they were heading toward turned into a hot mess of rubble and fire. Drew was thrust backward, his wheelchair spinning and tipping to the side. He landed with a grunt, pinning his arm against himself and the chair’s armrest.

Megan was thrown to the side, where she lay motionless.

10

Denver, Colorado

The blast was loud, and painful. Jaxx was on the wrong side of the explosion, not really knowing how he was thrown in that direction.

He was on the ground, covered in thick rock and gray dust. A ringing sound filled his ears, doing its best to annoy the shit out of him and confuse him at the same time.

He coughed, and rubbed his ears, pulled them, and wiggled — anything to taper the sound.

Bratatatatatat ratatatatatat! Wapoom! Bratatatatat ratatatatatat!

Machine gun and turret fire pounded the air like a muffled war movie.

He coughed again, pushing a cement chunk off his body. A breeze brushed across his skin. He glanced up.

What the hell?

He was outside.

He shook his head. How the hell did he get outside? Did he catapult through a window? No glass was around him. He studied his surroundings, immediately knowing what happened. He was in a portion of the building that didn’t hold. The walls had collapsed exposing him to the outside.

He stood, the weight of the cement making it difficult, though pieces of it were plummeting to the floor at every movement he made. He turned to make his way back in the building, then gasped.

A wall of cement, beams, and metal warped like tendrils was in front of him, blocking his way.

“No,” he yelled. He grabbed a chunk of collapsed wall and threw it behind him, then another chunk. Mya, Damion, or anyone else who was near the blast was most likely trapped under this shit, and he needed to get them out as soon as possible. He’d have to dig.

He grabbed another chunk and tossed it behind him. It didn’t land. That was peculiar. It didn’t matter. Between the ringing in his ears and the constant booming sounds of weapons fire, pieces of cement and drywall falling against the ground, it wouldn’t be the easiest things to hear over all of this commotion.

He pitched another chunk of cement over his shoulder. Again, no sound. He turned, then lurched back. A large, wide man, ashen blue skin, gray lips, and a bald head stood in front of him. An Agadon. The cement Jaxx had thrown was in the alien bastard’s hands.

The Agadon gave his tell-tale laugh, the sound of two chainsaws trying to get at each other through a metal I-beam. How they laughed without a sign of emotion baffled him, but right now, being baffled was the least of his worries.

A small ion cannon protruded and flipped up from the Agadon’s upper back. It lifted over his shoulder, aiming at Jaxx.

It recoiled, and a blue hue glowed at its muzzle, blasting an ion charge.

Jaxx sidestepped, then leaped high, avoiding a second shot. He brought up a fistful of Chi and came down with a punch to the blue freak’s head.

The Agadon took the blow well, stepping back, slightly off balance. He pounded his foot on the ground, straightening himself, and pulled out a side-arm, targeted Jaxx, and pulled the trigger.

Jaxx ducked and quickly moved around the Agadon. He reached up and broke the upper back cannon, ripping it out of the Agadon. Blue blood splattered, and wires stuck out of the alien’s back, all writhing like snakes snapping at prey, sparks spewing out of their mouths.

The Agadon reached back, then twitched and fell forward. Dead.

Jaxx spun around. More Agadon were rushing from the broken fence line, heading his way.

He was probably target numero uno. He was the reason they took out this base — he assumed. He was putting his little rag tag group he was a part of in trouble. They, especially the children, needed safety. They were safer away from him — if they hadn’t succumbed to the caved in wall.

He closed his eyes for a brief second, scanning for his friends and nephew. He smiled. They were alive.

In a matter of nanoseconds, a new plan formed in his mind.

He leaped over a portion of the wall, and dashed away from the building. “Hey, assholes,” he yelled. “Follow me.”

And, as if on command, the Agadon went in pursuit of Jaxx and away from the library. Not all of them, but more than he imagined would.

His new laid out plan was working. Now, if he could just find a craft to get him down to South America as soon as possible, he’d be numero uno in his own book.

11

Denver, Colorado

Where there wasn’t pain in his stomach in the not too distant past, there was now.

He pressed his hands against his squishy, liquid filled sack of a stomach. Yes, that had to be internal bleeding because the pain that consumed him in the moment was dull, as if the extra fluid in his abdomen was cushioning the agony.

The heat from the sizzling burst of hell that just rocked his and the building’s world, was emanating from rubble and debris around him. The explosion was still hot and fresh, sending steam toward the ceiling.

He pressed off the ground with his hands, cringing with a desire to drop back to the floor. Instead, he managed to sit up, fighting himself the entire way, his belly’s ache almost winning at every breath.

He dropped his head in his palm and let out a small exhale at what he saw in front of him. Nothing but a black, charred room with its doors blown off and dead doctors and nurses inside.

Probably dead patients, too.

“I’m dead soon.” There was no way he was going to get a bullet out of his stomach now.

Wapoom! Bratatatatat ratatatatat!

Another blast somewhere in the building and gun fire nearby rattled his brain.

A moan echoed in the dim hallway. It was Segarra. He was less than an arm’s length away, his face, arms, and hands covered in hundreds of cuts. He touched his hair, then lifted his head up in a start. “Mya.”

She was out cold and lying next to Damion, also unconscious. They had some cuts, but not nearly as many as Segarra. A few motionless military men and women lay beside them; body parts were strewn across the floor.

“Drew?” It was Megan. She was crawling toward him.

Drew reached his arm out. A streak of lightning shot up his gullet and to his tongue. He pulled back, clutching his stomach again. They needed to leave him. He was holding this entire mission up.

“Let’s get you in the wheelchair and get you out of here,” said Megan.

Drew shook his head. There was no point in going anywhere. “I’m holding everyone back.” And they had to find that third child and get to South America with Jaxx as soon as they could. There were no if’s, and’s, or but’s. It had to be done, and done without him. “Leave me here.”

“That’s not part of the deal, Drew. Remember, we’re supposed to rule?”

Rule what? That part of the deal was never clearly spelled out. Rule the free world? Rule the entire continent? Rule a plot of land? Hell, he couldn’t rule a bag full of marijuana buds.

There was no way he was going to rule anything. Plus, he’d be dead and gone soon, flying high with the Mary Jane gods. Speaking of which? Perhaps he could find some medical-grade weed and notch some of his discomfort down. “Seriously. Go. Leave. You can lead or rule or whatever it is we’re supposed to do without me. I’m just in the way.” Being in the way was his least concern. Staying alive, let alone awake, for the next twenty-four hours would be a miracle. He gestured toward Mya. “Get those kids to safety. Find the third.”

Megan slowly moved her head back and forth. “Not. Gonna. Happen. Get your ass up.” She went to pull him to his feet. Drew didn’t budge. “Fine.” She pulled him by the shirt, dragging him to his wheelchair.

“Alright,” Drew screamed, the agony tearing at his stomach. “I’ll get in that thing.”

Another concussion hit nearby and the building shuddered. Megan fell to the floor, losing her grip on Drew’s shirt. She hardened her face and stood back up, pulling Drew to his chair. She tipped the wheelchair back on its wheels, and Drew managed to climb into a seated position, grunting several times; hot, searing hell jumping up and down his body like he was being trampled by spiked shoes.

Segarra coughed several times and slowly pushed himself into a standing position. He dusted himself off, getting his bearings. He went to take a step to help Megan, but paused, listening to the battle raging outside. His face changed from confused to worried. “My guys need help.” He shook his head back and forth like a dog getting water off of his body. “Aw, much better.” He made his way to Mya and bent down. He gently shook her. “Baby doll, we need you. Wake up.”

She squirmed, pushing her dad’s arms away. “I’m sleeping.”

“No, Mya, get up. Your work isn’t done,” said Segarra.

Mya stirred and opened her eyes, then blinked several times. “What happened, Daddy?”

“We were hit by what we call a screamer. It’s a projectile that screams right before they hit their targets.”

Mya nodded. “Yeah, I heard that. I —” She hesitated. “Oh, no. Damion?” He was on the ground and curled up in a ball, black soot and ash all over him.

She sat on her knees and placed her hands on Damion’s back. She took in a deep breath and her hands started to vibrate. “He’s not doing well. He’s slipping…wait.” She pursed her lips. “Okay, I’m bringing him back.”

Damion sucked in a hefty flow of air and jerked back. “Whoa, what a rush.” He sat up quickly, his eyes darting back and forth from person to person. He rubbed his hands together and relaxed. He dropped his hands by his side and yawned and stretched as if everything was just fine and dandy.

“Okay, baby. We have to get you to do your energy thing,” said Segarra.

Drew wheeled forward, clenching his teeth to fight the pain enveloping his stomach. “She isn’t going to do that anymore.”

Segarra narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips. “Don’t tell me what my daughter will and won’t do.”

Mya put her hands on her hips as well. “No, Daddy. I don’t want to hurt anyone or anything anymore.” She held her chin high. She was strong, bold, and adamant as hell.

Segarra got down on one knee, his tone calm and forceful. “You listen to me, young lady.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “There are people — my people — dying out there to keep everyone in this facility and in this city alive. You can hamper the bad guys’ power in mere seconds.” He collected himself. “Do as you’re told.”

She held her breath, her face squishing together, holding in a cry.

Megan walked between them and put a hand on Segarra. “She ain’t doing it, cowboy. Leave it at that.”

Drew wondered if Mya should. It was for the benefit of humanity, so why not? He went to speak, then an imaginary knife dipped into his gut and twisted. He lurched forward, grabbing his abdomen.

Just kill me, please. Get this shit over with.

His mom appeared, her mouth twisted in anger. “You listen to that girl.” Drew gasped and reached for his mom. Maybe she could take him to the other side with her?

She faded and disappeared. It was an obvious “no.”

He eyed a gun on the floor near his chair’s foot plate. He leaned forward, straining against the bullet lodged in his gut that was using his stomach as a punching bag.

Segarra pushed Megan’s hand away. “Now, listen —”

He let out a yelp and fell to the floor, unconscious.

Damion took his hand off of Segarra’s knee and stood, leaning over a sleeping Master Sergeant, speaking like an adult to a child. “I did that to you because you are harming Mya. She won’t tell you, but every time she uses her power to harm all of those aliens, it sucks her own power. Too much could kill her, and she’s almost at her ‘too much point’ already.”

Mya’s hand went over her mouth. She plopped to the floor as tears streamed down her cheeks. Drew wanted to hold her, to console her, and tell her everything was going to be fine, but his own energy was draining, leaving him nearly useless, and he knew what he’d be saying to her was a lie, anyhow.

His stomach cramped and he bit his lower lip, doing his best not to scream. He squeezed the gun’s hand grip.

Damion hugged Mya. “All we need to do is find the third one of us and go with Jaxx to the key pyramid. We can stop the mean guys for good.”

“Jaxx?” Megan twisted around, searching for Drew’s uncle. “Where is Jaxx?” She had her hands out, palms up.

Mya closed her eyes, then opened them in a flash. “He is going on the mission alone. He can’t. It won’t work. He thinks he is the exception to every rule.” Mya looked up, eyes innocent. “That’s what I read from his mind. What does the exception to every rule mean?”

“He thinks he can manipulate — change — a rule,” replied Megan. “And he can’t on this one?”

Bratatatatat ratatatatat!

Megan ducked.

“We have to go,” said Damion. “I know where the third child is.” He dashed off toward the stairs. “She’s this way.”

Mya ran after him, and Megan moved behind Drew, grasping the push handles. Drew dropped his hand on the wheel and tightened the brake. Megan pushed, but the wheelchair didn’t move. He raised the gun and brought it to his temple, his vision fading, his life flowing down life’s mortal drain. “I’m holding you guys up.”

Megan screamed, “Don’t!” She lunged for the gun.

It was too late.

Drew pulled the trigger.

12

Denver, Colorado

There was always a way to get shit done on your own, and as an archaeologist, Jaxx was a pro at that. His DNA was the galactic key to opening and closing a pyramid network that only months ago was so far off his radar, he’d be more convinced that he’d be next in line to marry the Queen of England.

Wapooh!

He jumped and twisted his body into a dive. He landed hands first on a car, pushed off and flipped just as a searing ion blast zipped past his feet and slammed into a building across the way, singeing a black indentation into the structure.

Jaxx landed on his feet and ran as fast as his Chi would take him. He glanced over his shoulder. A gang of Agadon were racing after him. He was putting distance between him and them, except for one. This blue guy was catching Jaxx. Slowly, but surely.

He had to find a ship, which meant he needed to round the buildings and run back to the base he just fled. There, plenty of crafts were waiting to be stolen and flown to Machu Picchu where he could fix the pyramid network and save the world.

With everything in life, there was always an exception to a rule. And Jaxx figured he was the exception to the rule of three. He didn’t need the children. They were amazing humans, yes, and at the same time, they were in the way. Doing this alone meant he needn’t constantly worry about these kids’ safety — a ten-ton brick lifting off his shoulders.

Kashishish!

A window blew out from an office building up ahead. Shards of glass fell several stories to the street, smashing into a hundred more pieces.

A scream pierced the air. Someone was in trouble. Jaxx took another peek over his shoulder. The Agadon that could keep up with him was still a ways off, but gaining.

The alien lifted his energy gun and pulled the trigger. A blue bolt blasted forward, and Jaxx dodged. A car erupted on the side of the road, toppled over, and burned tongues of flames toward the heavens.

Another scream.

Someone was definitely in trouble.

Not good.

He had to divert his plan for a few minutes, and damn if this Agadon behind him wasn’t relentless. The prick didn’t know when to quit. Jaxx wanted the Agadon to chase him, but he never expected some — even one — to keep up.

Jaxx dashed over to a cross street, keeping the office building in his sights. He rushed down another road, the soles of his boots slapping hard on the pavement.

And there it was, right in front of him. The building where the woman had screamed. The building was mostly glass. A long flight of steps led to the entry. He paused at the base of the steps; his lungs heaving. The entry doors had been blown away; probably by Agadon cannon fire.

A third scream, and this one louder, closer. He made a fist and started his quick climb up the steps.

Inside, he ignored the elevators that lined a wall. He raced up a staircase, stopping on the fourth landing, his adrenaline activating every sweat gland in his body, nearly drenching him with perspiration.

He closed his eyes, searching for an energy signature. He nodded when he found her and the culprit — a young woman and a big-ass Agadon — and he didn’t like what the Agadon was attempting to do to the woman.

He kicked a door open that led to a hallway on the fourth floor. “Hey,” he yelled, his eyes like a laser, pointing him to the office doors where the scene was taking place. He marched forward.

There was a shift in energy and Jaxx stopped, waiting. The office door flew open and metallic laughter followed. An Agadon emerged into the hallway, pulling with him a woman. Her dress was torn and her mascara was running down her cheeks.

She shook her head, her chin quivering. “Help me.”

The Agadon back handed her and let go of her arm. She fell to the floor and crawled down the hallway in the opposite direction.

The Agadon paid her no more attention.

Jaxx flinched as another ethereal flow interrupted him. An Agadon had just entered the building — the one who was closest in chase.

He looked down and to the side, concentrating, his peripheral vision keeping the Agadon in front of him in view and the doorway to the hall in view, waiting for the second Agadon to arrive.

The Agadon in the hall took a step forward, readying to pound Jaxx into the ground.

Jaxx thrust his hand outward, sending a ball of energetic Chi his way. It hit the Agadon hard, twirling him around. He dropped to one knee, his back now facing Jaxx.

Jaxx didn’t move as the other Agadon was almost to the fourth floor hallway.

“Jaxx,” came an Agadon’s tinny voice. “Nice to see you again.” It was Taz, stepping through the doorway, entering the corridor.

Jaxx couldn’t believe his own eyes. “How? Taz…I saw you die.”

Taz put his hand up, eying his ally on the other side of Jaxx. “Don’t harm Jaxx, Gog-19. You know the plan. He is the key and the reason we are here.”

Gog stood tall. “I understand, Taz. I could still beat him up a little, no?”

Taz shook his head.

“You don’t get them all, Taz,” said Gog.

Taz tilted his head. “All? I only need one.” He lowered his gaze and set it upon Jaxx. “This one.”

Gog bowed. “As you wish.” He turned. A click echoed in the hallway.

Whapoo!

Blue blood splattered over the walls and the floor, and smoke rose from a hole in Gog’s back, accompanied by a geyser of sparks. A small ion cannon that was usually connected to an Agadon’s upper back, lay next to Gog, broken in two.

Jaxx put his palms out. “You kill your own? Why?”

Taz took a soft, quiet step forward like a ninja sneaking up on its prey — something unusual for an Agadon. “Your first question was how and your second question was why.” Taz contorted his gray, ashen lips into a smile, taking another step forward, closing in on Jaxx.

Jaxx straightened his shoulders and turned, facing Taz head on.

Taz continued, “I’ll answer your last question first, if you don’t mind?” He didn’t wait for Jaxx to answer. “The why is because Gog, the poor metal scoundrel, didn’t obey my request. I asked him to leave you to me.” He took another step onward. “He chose to trick me and was attempting to kill you with his ion cannon that was embedded in his back. You heard the click, correct? Well, I shot the tar out of his cannon, and now Gog is dead because of it, and so is that cannon.

“And the how. You see, artificial intelligence doesn’t die. And as long as Agadons have bodies, we’ll be able to jump from body to body whenever we feel like, including when death takes a body, rendering it useless. After my body died back on Callisto, I transported myself into another willing body to do my bidding. Do you understand?” He moved another foot in Jaxx’s direction.

Jaxx kept his mouth shut, running his Chi throughout his body.

“What are you waiting for, Jaxx?”

A scream filled the room next to him, the one Gog had originally come from.

Jaxx sidestepped, opening a door that led to the office. He stepped inside, catching a long and wide window out of the corner of his eye, the battle farther in the city sending thick, black smoke against a blue horizon.

But where did the sound come from?

Jaxx backed up toward the window, keeping Taz in his sights and looking around for a woman, any woman.

A large meeting room table was in the middle of the office, and desks littered with papers and computers were scattered throughout.

He looked under it.

No one there. “Where —”

Taz rushed and lowered his shoulders. Jaxx brought up his knee, crunching the A/I asshole in the chin. Taz’s head wrenched upward, and he lifted off his feet, flipping onto his back.

Jaxx bent down and grabbed him, lifted Taz high, and grunting loudly, slammed the Agadon beast on the table, cracking the table in half like it was made out of balsa wood. Metal bent and cracked, and wood splintered all across the dull, thin, cheap office carpet.

Taz unholstered his energy weapon, crawling backward. He shot wildly, missing Jaxx, blasting the ceiling. Drywall dusted Jaxx’s head and shoulders like snow falling on a Christmas day.

Jaxx huffed and kicked the weapon out of Taz’s hand. “Leave Earth. All of you.”

Taz’s face twisted into a smile. He laughed, moving closer to the window, crawling like a crab. “You don’t understand, Jaxx. We like resources, and Earth happens to be the planet with the most. Plus, you’re here. Imagine our luck. We need both in order to keep the pyramid network open and completely under our control. There is a lot of money to be had with control. Do you understand, Jaxx?”

Jaxx grabbed the gun he kicked out of Taz’s hand, aiming it at Taz, his breath coming quick and heavy. “Tell your friends to leave now, or their leader will take an ion bolt between the eyes.”

Taz slowly shook his head. “Not a chance, Jaxx. You’re the key. We need the key to keep the pyramid network open, and since you closed the rest of the galactic pyramid network while on Callisto, we need to open that back up as well. Plus, we bought you from Kajka Okbak, the poor Kelhoon leader who was sucked into the vortex with the rest of his race when you closed that network. That means we rightfully own you.”

“Why didn’t your race get sucked up with them?” Jaxx was stalling, doing his best to find an opening and at the same time, trying to figure out where that scream came from. It definitely came from this office.

“We did. In fact, all over the galaxy we were thrown back to the planets we originated from, except all of those who were in the process of invading this planet. Earth’s network never closed. Why is that, Jaxx?”

Jaxx knew but shook his head, acting like a kid who knew nothing. “I don’t know.”

“You do.” Taz flicked his head to the side, and the gun in Jaxx’s hand went flying across the room. Taz pushed his palms toward Jaxx, sending heaps of Chi Jaxx’s way.

Jaxx swiped his hands downward, slicing the energy, dissipating it. He stepped back, feeling a fraction of Taz’s Chi smack into him. It was too little, too late.

Jaxx jumped and spun in the air, gathering as much energy as he could. He landed, again facing Taz, and flung his arms and hands toward the Agadon.

Taz was pushed against the window with a ferocity like none other.

Kashish!

The glass broke, and Taz fell over the window’s edge, disappearing from view. Jaxx rushed over and leaned forward, watching Taz bounce off the hood of a car and roll onto the concrete.

Jaxx watched to see if he completed his job — ending the body that Taz had taken over. It didn’t matter whether Taz was dead or alive. If he’d died on the hood of the car, he would be back in another piece of shit Agadon skin sooner than later.

Taz stirred, rubbed his back and stood. He raised his arms and stretched back to exaggerate how unhurt he was. He cracked his knuckles and glanced up at Jaxx. “Turn around, Jaxx,” he yelled, his voice carrying four stories up.

Jaxx rolled his eyes. He wasn’t turning around for any Agadon, especially Taz. This guy was a pain in the ass and would probably send a volley of cannon fire his way if Jaxx turned his back to the blue guy. Instead, Jaxx extended his hand, giving Taz the middle finger.

“Help,” came a woman’s voice.

Jaxx turned in a start. At least a dozen men and women were being led into the office, each with an Agadon pointing an energy weapon at the back of their head.

13

Denver, Colorado

Jaxx put his hands up, hopefully a Universal gesture of surrender and a plea to leave the people now lined up before him alone.

The Agadon, in unison, put their hands on the prisoners’ heads and grasped their hair, forcing the men and women to their knees.

“Let go of them,” said Jaxx, taking a step forward.

An Agadon shook his head, pressing his gun harder against a woman’s skull. Her eyes were full of tears and her chin trembled. She was young, no more than twenty-five, and her eyes were begging Jaxx for help.

Taz walked into the room, his arms and legs banged up, oozing blue blood, the aftermath of being thrown out a window and falling four stories down. Yet, here he was again, facing Jaxx like nothing could faze the guy. Hell, Taz was turning into a pain-in-the-ass itch that Jaxx couldn’t reach.

Taz grinned. “You’re in a predicament, Jaxx.” Taz held a device in his hand, and a hologram shot upward. The hologram scrolled through vid after vid, all showing the same horrifying scene — from race to race, religion to religion, and all over the world, Agadon held human prisoners at gun point.

A knot formed in Jaxx’s throat. “What do you want from me?” They could have just ended these human’s lives at any point, so why let Jaxx in on their sick display?

“These people all have a chance to live, Jaxx,” explained Taz. “If you give yourself up to us with a promise you won’t fight us any longer, then all these people live.”

Jaxx put his hands out, backing up toward the busted out window he launched Taz through. “Why didn’t you offer me that before?”

Taz frowned. “We were under the illusion we could take you by force.” He sneered. “Plus, we like war. It suits us. But, keep in mind, if it wasn’t for you, Jaxx, none of these humans on Earth would have been touched. Yes, the resources here are nice, but we would never have thought twice about attacking such an un-evolved technological planet that didn’t have an intact planetary military without enough weapon power to harm us, let alone give us a fight we’d enjoy. It’s a little one sided, don’t you think? That’s not how we like to play.”

Jaxx dropped his chin to his chest, his shoulder’s slumping. “You came here — to Earth — because of me and only for me?”

“To planet Leona, Callisto, and Earth, yes. To take you as our own.”

Wapooh!

Blood splattered outward from a man’s forehead. The man went limp and fell face down onto the floor, his arms lax by his sides.

A unified gasp came from the prisoners, and Jaxx lunged forward, his arms out. “No!”

Wapooh!

This time a woman, the same woman who looked no older than twenty-five, dropped to the floor.

A whimper filled the room, then soft cries. They all knew they’d be dead soon.

Jaxx jerked back, his hands up in the air, his voice shaking. “Stop. No more. You have me. Let them go.”

“Not until we have you secured and on my ship,” said Taz. “Remember, you’ve caused all of this death, all of this pain. You are the reason for human’s struggles against us.” Taz nodded at another soldier.

Wapooh!

An older man’s head whipped forward, blood littering the office floor. The man crumpled to the side, lifeless.

Jaxx took another step back. “I said no more.”

Taz put his hand up, a sign for the rest of his team to stand down. They all dropped their guns by their sides and continued to stand behind each individual, dead and alive.

Jaxx’s heart beat faster. His adrenaline went through the roof, and panic set in. “No more killing, please. No more. I will go with you if you let them all go, now.”

Taz waived his hand, and the Agadon lifted each prisoner and guided them out the door.

Jaxx’s heart ached. Was he truly the reason for everyone’s death? His friends? His allies? Random men and women who wanted nothing more than to have a peaceful life, but now dead because he was the key to this entire network?

“Show me on that holoimage the rest of the people you have at gunpoint leaving safely, and I will go with you.”

Taz closed his eyes and opened them a moment later. “Transmission sent.” He held up his device. The hologram went from slide to slide, and on every vid the Agadon dropped their weapons and walked away from their prisoners.

“Is that real? You aren’t tricking me?”

Taz shook his head. “We don’t lie, Jaxx. That is real.”

“How am I to trust you?” asked Jaxx. These blue men were killers, murderers, and demons in the flesh.

“We Agadon do as we say, Jaxx. That’s how you can trust me.”

“Then I have one more proposal,” suggested Jaxx. “We leave Earth immediately, and you take every ship and Agadon with you.”

Taz dipped his head, the hologram in front of him disintegrating into nothingness. He closed his fingers over his device and put his fists together. “Done.”

14

Denver, Colorado

The gun clicked, and Drew dropped it on the floor. The magazine was empty.

A voice called out, “Never again, Drew. Never again.” It came from somewhere deep within him. His mom, perhaps. Himself, more likely.

Megan took her hand away from her mouth. “Drew?”

“This pain…” he whispered. “It’s too much…and I’m holding you all back.”

“That doesn’t give you any right to end your life.” Megan pushed him forward, then stopped at the base of the stairs.

Drew leaned over, his stomach tightening, his words coming out forced, “You see. I’m…in the way.”

He was. A thought of suicide had never entered his mind before, but excruciating pain could do that to a person — this was something Drew knew from his journalist work. Pain, many times, was a mood changer and a killer.

Mya and Damion were already atop the staircase. Mya put her hands on her knees, looking at Drew fifteen or so steps down. “Can someone help bring him up?”

The building shuddered, and Drew cringed in agony. “End me now.” He glanced up at the ceiling, acting like it was God’s face, hoping the big, beautiful Being in the sky would heed Drew’s call.

Most likely not.

A man rushed down the stairs and grabbed the bars above the wheelchair’s footrest. “I gotcha.” He lifted Drew’s chair. Megan held onto the back push handles, holding up Drew with all of her might.

Bratatatatat ratatatatat!

Whapoom!

The library quivered and books fell from the shelves, but they kept pulling Drew up the steps.

“Just a few more steps,” said Megan.

They set him down at the top of the staircase, and the guy who helped Drew up the stairs patted Drew’s legs. “I have to get going, buddy. But hang in there.” He brandished his gun and rushed around a corner.

“Let’s go,” yelled Damion. They raced to the front door, Megan pushing Drew’s chair as fast as she could without tipping him over. They hurried through the front doorway and to the outside.

Zzzchoo! Zzzchoo!

Several Agadon hover tanks came into range on a nearby street, and Drew’s eyes bugged out. “Guys?”

The tank’s turrets lowered, aiming for the building. Drew may have wanted to die, but he didn’t want the children and Megan to have a similar fate. “Go, go. The tanks, the tanks.” He pointed frantically, ignoring the gut wrenching pain enveloping his stomach.

Megan pushed faster, descending down a ramp. “I see them.”

A tank’s cannon muzzle fizzed blue energy and sucked back, then pushed forward, expelling a blue ball of hell. And another tank did the same, and another.

Thwippwoom! Thwippwoom! Thwippwoom!

Direct hits and the ground quaked like it was readying to crack open. The library’s cement and brick shifted inward and burst in every which direction, sending debris into the air and onto the terrain around the structure.

A missile rack on top of the library sputtered and turned. Yellow flames shot from behind it, hurtling projectiles at thousands of miles an hour.

The tanks backed away, doing their best to avoid what was sure to be a shit-show of damage coming their way. Several missiles rained down on the first tank, lighting it up like a blow torch, twisting its armor into a mess of zig-zagging, melted parts.

Another missile volley shot toward the other tank’s position. But Drew couldn’t see the ending results as Megan pushed him in front of a building, blocking his view.

A booming cloud rose from behind and above the blocky structure, telling Drew at least a few of the missiles hit their target, or a car.

Who knew.

Mya took Damion’s hand, pulling him down a side street with Megan on their tail, pushing Drew to safety, or wherever the heck they were going.

Helicopters flew overhead, and machine gun fire riddled the street below.

“Where are we going?” asked Drew.

Megan leaned down, breathing heavily. “What?”

Mya looked over her shoulder. “We are going to a house. It’s a few blocks away.”

How did Mya hear him? It didn’t matter. She was like superwoman, only younger — and without the ability to fly. But if she spread her arms and took off toward the upper atmosphere, it wouldn’t surprise Drew in the least.

A humvee zipped by with soldiers in battle suits standing on running boards and hanging on the roll bars, obviously heading into combat.

They all stopped for a moment, watching the scene drive by.

“One more block,” hollered Mya.

They hurried on and down another road and into a neighborhood full of Victorian-style homes, each with bright colors and decorative trim, both whimsical and sophisticated. A porch wrapped around the one they approached, and a little girl with sandy-blonde hair, maybe seven years old, was swinging on the porch swing.

She craned her head at the oncoming visitors. “You’ve come.” A bright smile filled her small, quaint face.

“You’re the third we’ve chosen,” Damion said, coming up to a fence that bordered the property, his steely eyes staring at her.

Mya waived her over. “Come here, Lily.”

Lily’s eyebrows raised. “You know my name?” She skipped toward Damion and Mya.

But where was her mother and father? And if she had parents, then why were they just letting her sit there and swing while WWIII was raging several blocks down the road?

Lily reached the kids, her hands extended. Mya and Damion interlaced their fingers with Lily’s.

They all gasped, their eyes squeezing tightly, and their body’s shivered as if electricity was running through their veins.

Mya opened her eyes first. She turned, dropping her hands by her sides. “Jaxx has given up.”

Drew gulped. That couldn’t be correct. Jaxx was like Mya, a damn superhero. Nothing was impossible with that guy, at least with what he had witnessed thus far.

“What do you mean that Jaxx has given up, Mya?” asked Megan, stopping the wheelchair in front of a curb.

“He gave himself up to the Agadon. He’s making a grave mistake — the gravest of all.”

15

Denver, Colorado

Jaxx was in an Agadon hover vehicle with Taz by his side. The vehicle was dark inside, and the view of the driver was hampered by an armored wall dividing the front seat from the back seat. A single slit down the middle brought in much needed light as there weren’t windows on the back and side doors.

Jaxx didn’t have energy cuffs on or a gun to his head, just the sourness in his stomach for perchance being the main reason for millions, and maybe billions, of human deaths across the United States and beyond.

And if he could stop it with a quick and simple agreement to give himself up in exchange for humanity’s survival, then he would. Yet, in doing so, all Beings through the galaxy were in permanent danger.

In truth, he wouldn’t give himself up for long.

“Will you be leaving the planet soon?” Jaxx asked Taz.

“Yes.” Taz stared at the armored wall in front.

“Where are you taking me?”

“To a mothership and then to Zictax-9, a quadrant in the Milky Way, only accessible through a wormhole. That’s all I can tell you.”

A concussion blast rocked the vehicle, shaking it, and jostling Jaxx and Taz into each other. The vehicle continued moving forward, regardless.

“Was that a human weapon or an Agadon weapon? If you’re still at war with my people, then why?”

“I assure you our deal is on.” He folded his hands in his lap.

“You didn’t answer my questions.” He had to get out of here sooner than later. Jaxx was lying about giving himself up entirely, but something wasn’t adding up with Taz. Was he lying too?

“That was a human weapon.” He put his finger up, stopping Jaxx from speaking. “I’m having a bit of a problem with my leaders. Hold on.” He tilted his head, as if listening to something.

“Aren’t you the leader?”

A rumble and what sounded like a building crumbling to pieces blared outside.

Taz straightened his lips, thinking. “I’m one of many leaders. I’m not the leader.”

“Then what is the problem?” Something wasn’t right. Too much shit was happening outside to call any of this an Agadon agreement to lay their guns down and go home.

A screech filled the sky, and another blast picked up the hover tank a few feet, dropping it back down an instant later. “The problem is that they don’t agree with ending our occupation on planet Earth. Our goal was to retrieve you. Yet, the resources on this planet have much to give. My leaders don’t want to lose that. They will kill all humans to get it.”

“So, you have gone back on your deal.”

Taz huffed, clearly annoyed at the situation taking place outside. He was the only Agadon that had any inkling of expressions. “That is very much the case.”

Jaxx brought up his Chi. A fire rose up in his belly. If anything, Jaxx was going to give this hover vehicle and its occupants the pounding of their lives.

Taz rested his hand on Jaxx’s leg. “Please, be forgiving. Your race has a strong ability to forgive, unlike ours. We hold the worst grudges. We kill when we feel wronged, no matter who did the wronging. Give us time and we will honor our agreement.”

Jaxx slipped his fingers through the slit in the armor in front of him.

“Don’t, Jaxx. I’m warning you,” cautioned Taz.

Jaxx pulled back and the armor broke off its hinges. Another Agadon was steering the hover vehicle. The A/I asshole glanced back at Jaxx.

Jaxx pushed the armor into the driver, causing the vehicle to swerve.

“Agh!” Jaxx let out, jerking back, his arms and legs shaking, his body convulsing with electric waves splintering through him.

Taz’s hand somehow changed into an electric prong and he was pressing it against Jaxx’s leg.

Jaxx reached out and wrapped his fingers around Taz’s forearm. “You…lied to…me.”

Taz pulled the prong back and Jaxx relaxed, the shock making his skin crawl and his muscles twitch uncontrollably. Taz looked Jaxx squarely in the eyes. “We don’t lie. I was overruled. It was my mistake.”

“I have given…myself up to you. And…now we humans don’t have a chance.”

Taz’s mouth screwed up in a smile. “Now, you speak the truth.”

“No,” Jaxx lurched for Taz and bounced back into the side door, shaking more violently than before. Taz twisted the prong into Jaxx’s chest.

Jaxx brought his Chi up, fighting through the pain and electricity, and thrust both feet outward, slamming his boots into Taz.

A loud cracking sound and the door at Jaxx’s back broke off the vehicle. The wind blasted Jaxx, and the door dropped onto the street, Jaxx landing on top of it a moment later.

Sparks jumped from the bottom of the metallic door as it slid on the road until is slowed to a halt, bumping against a curb, catapulting Jaxx into a brick building. He hit it hard, ricocheting off the wall and onto a sidewalk.

He pushed himself up, watching the hover vehicle slide to a stop several meters away. Agadon in pursuit jumped around it and held their weapons out, targeting Jaxx’s forehead.

“Stop him,” roared Taz, getting out of his hover vehicle. He slammed his door and stomped slowly toward Jaxx.

Jaxx caught a glimpse of a wooden door behind him that led into the building his body just smacked against. He took a step backward, twisted, and rammed the door.

The door cracked in two, and wood splintered all over. He landed on his side and crawled quickly into the room’s shadows, his eyes darting back and forth, looking for an escape route — perhaps stairs or another door that led to a back alley. Anything.

Nothing.

It was an empty room with a kitchen, probably a recently vacated deli.

A bigger shadow loomed over Jaxx, and he turned around, seeing hordes of Agadon, including Taz, rush inside and surround him.

A mouse scuttled underneath a row of cupboards.

Wapooh! Wapooh! Wapooh!

The Agadon lit the cupboards up with energy fire, puncturing holes into the cabinetry and turning it into cinder.

A pantry door swung open and a young man, maybe in his late teens, a skateboard in his hands, fell out, blood dripping from a wound.

He took several deep breaths and fell to the floor, his mouth agape, his eyes full of surprise.

Taz pushed several Agadon out of his way and aimed his weapon at the kid’s head.

Jaxx shook his head and his eyebrows rose. He leapt over a countertop separating him from the young man and covered the boy with his own body.

Wapooh!

A searing energy sliced into Jaxx’s hip and he instinctively rolled away. Realizing he left the young man in the open, he twisted around.

Before he could use his body to cover him up, he saw that the teenager was dead, his eyes vacant and his body breathless.

Jaxx slumped. He had led the Agadon to more senseless killing, taking another innocent life — this time a young man.

He laid on his back, ignoring the screaming ache in his hip, and stared up at the ceiling. No matter what he did, he was leading people to their death.

“Leave Earth,” Jaxx said. “Leave and never return.” He was numb. Emotionless. Even anger was difficult to find.

Taz’s chainsaw laughter filled the room. He bent down and rubbed Jaxx’s forehead. “Don’t be so down. As a human, you’ve accomplished a lot.”

Accomplished a lot? His name alone had killed more people than any evil dictator to ever live, and likely all of them combined. If that was what Taz thought was an accomplishment and an astounding achievement, then he was right. Jaxx had outdone himself.

And he deserved to die.

“Just…end me.”

A torrid of laughter reverberated against the walls. “You’re the key, Jaxx. Killing you is almost impossible. It can be done, and I could try it now with my ion cannon, but trust me, the moment I pull this trigger, you’d somehow dodge. I’m certain of it. You see, your body and heart aren’t designed to die other than by your own devices, either by fulfilling a prophecy or ramming yourself into a mountain with a starfighter. Other than that, we aren’t going to kill you even if we wanted to. We can beat you to a pulp, and we have, but that’s only to slow you down in order to catch you.”

“You have killed millions because of me.”

Taz slowly shook his head. “We have murdered more than that, Jaxx.”

“I won’t move. I promise. Just pull the trigger.”

“You’re missing the point. We aren’t going to kill —”

Jaxx reached up, ripping the gun out of Taz’s hand, and turning it on the Agadon. “Bye.”

Wapooh! Wapooh!

Jaxx pulled the trigger several times, riddling Taz with ion rounds, hitting him in the side and on the shoulder. Taz tumbled to the floor and Jaxx rolled, leaped to his feet, and dashed to the right, avoiding several Agadon blasts.

He pulled the trigger as fast as possible, slamming energy slug after energy slug into a handful of Agadon. He watched them fall to the floor in a mess of blue liquid he hoped they drowned in.

More Agadon rushed inside, their guns blazing. An ion bolt ripped into Jaxx’s gun, twirling it out of his hand. It crashed to the floor, the barrel a mash of twisted steel.

Jaxx moved back, bumping against the wall. He let the weight of his body take him down to the ground and to his butt. He put his head in his hands. “Screw this.”

Taz spoke, “Agadon, place energy cuff’s on Jaxx’s wrists and ankles. It’s time to take him to the mothership once and for all.”

16

Denver, Colorado

Jaxx was doomed. It was that simple. There were too many of them.

He leaned his head against the wall, his eyes fixed on Taz. He brought up his Chi. “Last chance. Do as I say and leave.”

“It won’t do you any good, Jaxx. Ease up on your energy, and we can ease up on the ankle and wrist restraints after we place them on you.”

Two Agadon approached Jaxx, gold bracelets in their hands.

Jaxx sighed, his Chi lowering, his mind giving up. “Any chance we can make a deal that would stick?”

Taz stood and twitched his head to the side. He lowered his eyes to Jaxx. “They have forbidden it.”

Whoever they were had more pull than Taz. All Jaxx’s belly-aching and dumb hope would get him nowhere.

Taz told his men to halt and walked over to Jaxx, crouching next to him. “Here is what I don’t understand about you, Jaxx.” He pointed to his chest. “I’ve read the prophecies, just like you have. When you fulfill your destiny by fixing the pyramids, your DNA will be transmutated into the pyramid network. In essence, your physical body will die. So here you are trying to save yourself to…essentially…die.”

Jaxx held his breath. He knew the prophecies and what they said. He didn’t want to die, but something in him didn’t care either way, as if that was how his DNA was designed. As long as he carried out his mission, saved the pyramid network and humanity, then he was fine with leaving his body to go to the afterlife. The not caring made no sense, but his body and heart kept him on this deadly path anyway.

“With us,” Taz poked Jaxx’s forehead with his finger, “you will survive and live a long, fruitful life. We will take care of you, because in order to control the pyramid nexus, we would need to create an environment that was pristine and happy for you. Do you understand, Jaxx?”

Jaxx shook his head. “I don’t care.”

“We will place you in an exact replica hologram of Earth. There you would live. You wouldn’t find an inkling of difference between both places. And you will have all your heart’s desires. Even women. Countless, beautiful women.”

Rivkah shot to his mind. She, and only she, was who he wanted. Even though she was stubborn, wanted to escape every relationship that came within a mile of her, and probably loathed romance, he still loved her, wanted her, and craved to be with her.

And if he died, he wouldn’t have that touch and connection.

“Would Rivkah be able to join me in that hologram?”

Taz nodded. “Whatever you want.”

He agreed to a deal once before, not too long ago, and it had been broken. If he agreed to this, the way things were going, this deal would be broken in twenty-seconds flat.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I’m a damn idiot.

Jaxx put his hand out, asking Taz to help him up. “I agree.” He didn’t. “Take me to that hologram now.”

But good luck in trying to get me there.

“Agreed.” Taz clasped Jaxx’s hand and helped him to his feet. Jaxx took several steps before Taz grabbed him.

Jaxx pushed his arm away. “Just a sec. Let me get some real sun before you throw me into the hologram.”

Taz patted Jaxx’s shoulder. Dust puffed out like a cloud. He gestured for his soldiers holding the cuffs. “Place those on Jaxx. We —”

Jaxx went rigid, his chest out, continuing toward the open doorway. “I don’t want those things on me.”

“I’m sorry, Jaxx. It’s for practical purposes. We don’t want you running off the moment we leave this building.”

“Then no deal.”

Taz gave a cockeyed smile, pressing both hands on Jaxx, practically rooting Jaxx to the ground. “Cuff his ankles and hands. He won’t obey, so we’ll carry him out.”

17

Denver, Colorado

Two Agadon grunts lifted Jaxx up, his hands and legs bound by energy cuffs. They carried him out the doorway.

An explosion rocked the city in the distance, and a plume of smoke rose from behind several buildings.

Jaxx brought up his Chi. He couldn’t let this city get wrecked.

“Settle down, Jaxx,” said Taz, his hand coming down hard on Jaxx’s chest.

Jaxx winced in pain, wanting to cover his chest for any future blows, then cried in agony when he moved his arms. The cuffs closed in on themselves for a moment, singeing his wrists and ankles, then let up.

Taz leaned down, nearly touching his gray lips to Jaxx’s ear. “I can feel you bringing in powerful energy. I’d suggest for you to stop doing that now. Do you understand?”

Jaxx nodded. He understood, but understanding was one thing, doing something to purposely piss Taz off was another. Jaxx brought up his Chi again, feeling it circulate through his veins and move to his legs and arms.

An elbow came down on Jaxx’s stomach. He grunted, biting his lower lip, doing his best to hold in all the curse words that wanted to spray out.

“Last warning. We can still use you for the pyramid network while we torture you the entire time. Do you want to be tortured, Jaxx?”

Jaxx shook his head and then was thrown onto a seat. The door shut, and he was back in the hover vehicle.

Darkness pervaded the back seat, covering him like a cocoon. This time, there wasn’t a slit in the armor between the front seat and the back seat.

The hover car zipped forward.

“I’m the one driving,” said Taz over the car’s intercom.

“What a relief,” Jaxx replied, sarcastically. “I was thinking it was someone who didn’t give a rat’s ass about me or humanity.”

“I do care, Jaxx.”

Jaxx rolled his eyes. “How many more people are you going to kill to convince yourself of your make-believe compassion, asshole?”

“A lot more. Although, that’s not my goal.”

Jaxx scoffed. “Oh, yeah. It’s your higher-ups’ goal.”

“And what’s your goal, Jaxx?” inquired Taz.

“To find the connection between Atlantis and the pyramids,” Jaxx responded, though under his breath. “I’ve probably found all I needed to know.”

“I didn’t hear you,” replied Taz.

“Good.”

Bratatatatat! Ratatatatat!

Bullets sprayed the side of the hover vehicle.

“You humans don’t give up,” cursed Taz, bringing the vehicle to a halt. A click and Taz opened his door.

Wapooh! Wapooh!

A man yelled in agony.

The door shut and the vehicle hummed and moved onward.

“That soldier won’t be bothering us anymore,” said Taz.

Jaxx remained quiet, his stomach tightening from the thought that more people were being killed; most likely, because of him.

The vehicle jostled. More gun fire. Another click and Taz was again outside his hover car.

Wapooh!

Somewhere in the distance, Jaxx heard a missile fire.

Jaxx curled up. “Not good.”

Krackow!

The car lifted high in the air and the engine’s hum turned off, replaced with explosions and fire raging in the front seat of the hover vehicle. The vehicle came down with a thud, bouncing up and down, the hover technology now blown to shit, and the car rolling on its side.

Jaxx tumbled against the side door, finally resting there after ricocheting off the ceiling and the armor separating the front from the back. His wrists singed from the cuffs, smoke rising from the hair burnt off his skin.

Wapooh! Wapooh!

Taz was still firing and from the sounds of the guns, a shitload of Marines were firing back.

Jaxx closed his eyes and brought up his Chi. He had to do this and had to do this fast. He imagined a ball of light falling from the sky and sinking deep within him. He then steered the light to the cuffs, hoping beyond hope this would do the trick.

A zap went through his body and the cuffs sparked, unclasping from his wrists and ankles.

He was free.

He crouched and jumped with all his might, ducking his head and aiming his shoulder into the side door facing the sky.

A crash and the door swung off its hinges, spinning into the air and landing with a thud. It rolled to Taz’s feet. Taz glanced at the mangled door and, realizing what it was, took an errant shot at a Marine and turned, facing Jaxx.

His eyes went wide, then narrowed. He targeted Jaxx with the cannon extended from his back.

Jaxx jumped onto the street and rolled away as Taz shot, missing Jaxx by a long shot. A bullet tagged Taz’s back just as he fired a second blast, missing again, and connecting to the street. Asphalt flew into the air, spitting across Jaxx. Taz dipped to the side, being shot several more times, and fell to the ground.

Jaxx took one look at Taz and dashed off, not wanting to wait around to see if the Agadon prick was dead or not, and risk being caught for the umpteenth time.

He rushed down a side street and around a corner.

A blast hit a building, sending chunks of brick to the sidewalk, nearly toppling Jaxx over.

Jaxx brought up more Chi and ran as fast as he could, moving past abandoned cars and vacated buildings. He was the cause of so much death, though he knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but in a way, it was.

He couldn’t be the burden any more. He had to do this mission on his own. Yes, Zara, the Leonian leader, had chided him before about not sticking around for his friends’ help, but she didn’t know the carnage that Jaxx had actually created.

Jaxx was indeed the key. And the Agadon would do anything to take him and use him for their own selfish purposes, including taking this world over and blowing it to hell and back.

That wasn’t going to happen on Jaxx’s watch.

18

Denver, Colorado

Jaxx ran as fast as his Chi state allowed toward the Denver library. He needed a way to get to the pyramid under Machu Pichu. That was the only place he could repair the connections between the pyramids on earth. The library was where the Marines kept their vehicles — he needed to borrow one.

He skidded to a halt in front of a crumpled Agadon hover tank that was still burning from the carnage it had taken. Two more hover tanks were in the same condition, twisted and gnarled.

Another tank came into a view and as it rounded a corner, a barrage of missiles shot from the top of the library and toward it.

Jaxx jumped behind the closest object to him — the base of a thick lamp post.

Not good a place to hide your body from an impending explosion.

He covered his ears and went into a ball, making himself as tiny as possible.

A bright light flared up as the missiles hit their intended target, and a loud concussion blared an instant later. Heat blanketed Jaxx, then small chunks of hot debris splattered against him.

He arched his back, yelping loudly. He swung his hand behind him, swiping off the few pieces of burning armor that seared through his jumpsuit.

“Ow,” he moaned, pushing himself up, only to fall back down as an ion blast soared over head, coming from a different direction.

He looked up and gasped. Agadon were rushing his position, shooting wildly.

“Oh, shit.” He could take on a few Agadon at the same time, but not a hundred or more raring to rip his skull off.

Thrum! Thrum! Thrum! Thrum!

A dozen helicopters with wide cabins and two missile racks near the helicopter’s pointed nose, flew overhead, the wind whipping Jaxx’s hair. A horde of Marines, more than twenty from each helicopter and in battle suits, appeared out of the helicopter’s side doors, repelling down long, black ropes. They landed in the middle of the attackers, bringing their fury and fire-power to the enemies ugly friggin’ mugs.

Jaxx went for his gun, then smacked his hip with his fist. He didn’t have a weapon, except his own hands and the powerful Chi rushing through his veins.

He raced toward the brawl.

An Agadon pelted a Marine’s battle armor with blue flashes of ion charges, pushing the Marine back, but doing very little damage.

The Marine raised the heavy cannon at his side and returned fire in kind.

B-da-da-da-da! B-da-da-da-da!

Fire spewed from the Marine’s cannon muzzle, shooting hundreds of bursts in seconds, riddling the Agadon with thick slugs.

The Agadon jolted left and right, blue blood spewing out of him in every direction, his arms flailing about. His gun spun out of his hand and flew into the air, plummeting to the ground. The Agadon met the ground a second later, smoke trailing from its body. He lay motionless on his back, his legs twitching, and Jaxx knew the A/I in that Agadon’s central processing unit was traveling the etheric webs and landing in another Agadon body on some mothership that was docked God-knows-where.

A clank punctured the air. A Marine in a fully armored battle suit landed on his back and slid across the ground, the concrete scraping against his armor. An Agadon jumped on top of him, clawing at his face. The Agadon’s upper back opened — his skin folded back, exposing wires, lights, and gears. A small cannon extended out and upward. It lifted above the Agadon’s head, attached by a flexible metallic shaft, and pointed at the Marine, letting loose an array of bolts into the Marine’s chest.

The armor held, sending sparks and electricity across the Agadon’s torso.

Jaxx brought up his Chi — the Universal energy coiling up in his solar plexus — and channeled it to his hands. He thrust his arms forward, yelling as he did so.

The Agadon looked up, then braced. His A/I skin pressed inward upon impact, and his robotic ribs cracked as Jaxx’s energy hit the Agadon hard, spinning him wildly away from the Marine and against the legs of another fighting Agadon, tumbling them both across the pavement and into a building.

The Agadon soldiers, seeing that they were outmatched and outnumbered, pulled back.

The Marine Jaxx saved twisted around, planting his hands on the ground, and gave Jaxx a nod, a gesture of thanks. He stood and brought up his weapon, slamming more seething bullets into the retreating Agadon, pushing them back even more.

The Marines had this covered.

Jaxx dashed down the street toward the base’s northern gate, just in front of the library. Dead Agadon filled the street, and the glow of fire lit the road.

More blasts sprung up as Jaxx reached the library doubling as a make-shit Marine base. Plumes of debris, mixed with dirt and blacktop, filled the air near the eastern gate.

Damn.

The base needed Jaxx’s help, and badly. But he had to go to South America, get to the key pyramid, and end this war. Shit. But he had to. If he didn’t, he’d be putting out fires all over Earth for the rest of his days, which would end up saving very few human lives.

He rushed through a broken portion of the complex’s northern gate, seeing a few untouched crafts up ahead.

There was a problem.

Of course.

They were all the same type of futuristic helicopters he’d just seen the Marines repel from.

He didn’t like helicopters. They weren’t fast or maneuverable. If anything, they were clunky and excellent target practice.

It didn’t matter.

He planted his foot and rushed over to a helicopter, opened the cockpit door. He jumped inside and sat on the cushioned pilot’s seat. He slammed the door shut.

He’d only flew a few helicopters in his life as a pilot in the Secret Space Program. And that was years ago. How different could it be? A starfighter was maneuverable. A helicopter? Well, not so much. The instrumentation a bit different, but he could handle it. He hoped.

A concussion pounded against the ground next to him, and gravel pummeled against the side of his chopper. He checked his port side, gazing out the window. There was a brand new hole in the concrete with steam rising toward the sky.

He strapped in and quickly flicked on the ion fuel cells feeding the engines. Next, he clicked the plasma battery button to the active position. He held down the starter, hearing the helicopter power up, the cockpit beginning to sound like an overloaded, maximum-strength dishwasher with a megaphone attached.

He reached behind him, pulling off a helmet from a top rail. He put it on, drowning out the sound.

He opened the throttle slowly, checking the revolutions per minute, his heart pumping, hoping he could get off the ground before an errant friendly fire came his way or an Agadon found their prized possession — Jaxx.

He gradually pulled the collective lever, waiting for the collective’s pitch to increase, then pushed the left pedal with his foot.

The helicopter raised off the ground, and his eyes widened. He forgot how much closer a helicopter felt to death than a strarfighter ever could.

He pressed the cyclic control stick forward. The helicopter shuddered, and the nose pulled up. The bird shook, and the helicopter’s power started to fade, it’s engines nearing a stall.

“Relax, Jaxx. Relax,” he told himself, taking in a deep breath. He pressed the cyclic more forward. The helicopter eased and zipped onward.

“It’s all coming back now.”

He veered the helicopter toward the south and fired the rear jets. His back sunk into his chair’s backrest and he climbed higher, watching the chaos beneath him shrink and become like miniature toys.

He leaned his head against the head rest. It would be clear sailing from this point —

His eyes lowered and his jaw slackened. The air war was still raging in front of him. What the hell was he thinking? A straight line south would lead him into a starfighter battle a few miles away.

He shook his head. “Not this time. I’m avoiding a fight. I’ll take the long route.”

He shifted the helicopter west. He’d take the wide flight path round the combat and none, especially not the Agadon, would be the wiser.

The cockpit beeped loudly. He checked the holographic radar on his flight console. An Agadon starfighter broke off from his fight and was headed in Jaxx’s direction.

Jaxx rolled his eyes, checked his weapon’s array, and kissed his fingertips, pressing them on the ceiling a second later. “Well, let’s see what fight you got in you, chopper.”

19

Denver, Colorado

More beeping pierced the cockpit, and Jaxx punched the ceiling. “Stop it.”

The beeping shut off.

“That’s better.” He pulled the helicopter into a greater ascent. He’d need speed when the Agadon starfighter caught up to him, most likely wanting to end this helicopter’s life, crash it into the city below, and take an unconscious Jaxx away in cuffs.

He checked his holographic display. The Agadon was coming in hot, weapons ready.

He pushed his cyclic forward, putting the helicopter into a descent, and switched off his trigger safety. He eyed the control panel, nodded with a smile, and flipped on his heat seekers. Alway a wonderful thing to have when you’re outmatched on just about all levels, except on wit and skill.

One minute until the Agadon was in range.

Jaxx flicked the missile flaps switch, opening them. His missile rack hummed, the missiles moving outward, the tips sticking out of the rack.

“Twenty seconds. Nineteen, eighteen…” How he hated count downs. He had to count though, had to be perfect, had to let loose these heat seekers before the Agadon had a chance to engage.

He continued his descent, the helicopter bumping up and down like it thought turbulence was an enjoyable thing.

“Eight, seven…”

He pressed the holographic targeting marker and dragged it over the Agadon in pursuit. This alien was going to have a nasty surprise in a matter of seconds.

He narrowed his eyes, his index finger resting on the trigger. “Two, one.”

He leveled the helicopter, the altimeter showing three thousand and thirty two feet. He pulled the trigger.

Shoooowah! Shoooowah! Shoooowah!

One by one, missiles fired, their tails yellow with hot hate, spewing fire like the evil dragon’s they were. They flew far in front of him. His console dinged, and the missiles shifted, arcing wide over Jaxx’s helicopter, finding their prey.

He viewed his display, watching the missiles head for the kill.

The Agadon starfighter tipped on its side, sending rounds of ions at the heat seeker projectiles.

One missile blew up, shattering into a million dust particles, creating a temporary cloud in the sky.

The next hit true, cutting the craft in half, a ball of sparks and a fiery inferno lit up the firmament, and fell toward the city below.

“Whoo!” hooted Jaxx, pumping a fist in the air. Even in a helicopter, they were no match for —

A sharp bang and his chopper turned on its own, the cockpit beeping bloody murder, the dome light changing from daylight white to red. His helicopter began to twirl in a circle, over and over again.

What had he missed? He checked his display. A second Agadon starfighter? He switched to rear cameras.

There it was. Another starfighter, untouched, spitting more blue ion fire out its weapon’s barrel, shredding Jaxx’s helicopter tail rotor and tail boom to shreds.

He pressed his cyclic back. It didn’t move. He attempted again, straining with all his might. The damn thing was jammed. How could a cyclic jam?

He had neither the time nor the ability to land. The helicopter was a dead bird flying, and if he stayed in it for too much longer, he’d be a dead man piloting.

He unstrapped, checking the altimeter; two thousand eight hundred feet and some change before impacting into the streets underneath him, and most likely five or ten seconds until he was blown out of the sky by the Agadon prick closing in.

“Parachute?” He scrambled to the cabin, ducking low so not to hit his head on the shallow ceiling.

He slipped his hand behind one of the seats up against the hull and pulled out a pack.

He raced to the door, the helicopter spinning in a clockwise motion, and grabbed the cabin door handle and pulled, sliding the door open. A rush of wind pelted him, flapping against his clothes and skin. He strapped on the parachute pack, only buckling the chest straps.

He brought Chi into his legs and jumped diagonally in a downward trajectory, making sure to be as far from the rotor blade as possible, pushing off hard in order to put enough space between him and the damaged chopper.

A loud sonic boom came from overhead. The Agadon starfighter flew by, too fast to slow down and target Jaxx on this pass, which meant the Agadon would be making another pass soon. Jaxx had to get to the ground, and fast.

His skin pressed tightly against his bones as he made a dive toward the city below. Looking around, he almost laughed. He hadn’t even made it to Denver’s outskirts before being nearly shot out of the sky in a craft he had no business flying.

He brought his body into a deeper dive, clutching the parachute pack in his hands as tightly as possible. Continuing the Chi, he fought the wind as he pulled the pack through one arm and then the other.

The clips on the end of the stomach straps flung wildly about until he grabbed one strap and buckled it. He had to hurry this shit up, or he’d be a splat on the ground soon.

He took a deep breath of air while buckling the third strap near his groin area, clipping them around the inside of his legs.

He went into a deeper dive, heading straight down, hoping he was becoming a pea-sized human, out of the Agadon’s sight and off its energy signature display. He heard another boom.

Jaxx wasn’t that lucky.

He felt something coming in hot and heavy, and it wasn’t good. He twisted in the air and an ion bolt zipped past him, nearly hitting his leg. He grunted loudly, not wanting to do what he had to do in the moment — pull the chord and let his parachute save him from plummeting face-first into the ground.

He was closing in on six hundred feet. If he waited any longer, his chute wouldn’t have enough resistance for a safe landing. He brought his hands to the pull chord.

And yet, if he did pull the chord, he’d be easing toward the ground, and the Agadon would have no problem popping him out of the sky.

Screw it. He had to fall more. He dropped his hand from the chord and continued his impossible descent to safety.

He spotted a skyscraper below, though slightly off course. He steered his body’s trajectory toward the tall structure. He didn’t have much clearance to stick the landing and run, but it would do.

A second ion bolt flew by him.

He had to be under five hundred feet in altitude. Time to let loose.

He pulled the chord and felt a jerk at his shoulders and around his groin, nothing he’d want to experience more than once.

He clasped the parachute’s steering control toggle and brake, pulling them up and down, gliding himself in for a landing.

Another boom split the air above him. He shuddered, his parachute rocking in the starfighter’s wake. The Agadon had flown by, nearly hitting him.

He lifted his feet up, the building coming in closer, faster. He pulled the control toggle and the brake in a downward direction at the same time, slowing his trajectory and speed.

Shock ran through his ankles when his feet slammed against the building’s roof. He leaned back, and his heels skid across the roof’s black concrete, his body rushing quickly toward the edge of the skyscraper.

“Oh, shit.”

He unclipped his torso and stomach strap quickly, yet he wasn’t slowing down. He’d be over the edge in a matter of feet.

He flipped on his stomach, digging his fingertips onto the roof’s blacktop with one hand, trying to unstrap his groin belt with the other. He let out a yelp, more out of fright than anything else, as he jerked and stopped, his feet hanging over the edge.

He glanced up. The chute had wrapped around a metal I-beam sticking up through the roof, holding him in place, keeping him from falling to his doom.

He pushed himself up and stood, unclipped his groin belt and tossed the pack off his back.

The Agadon starfighter’s ion-burners pounded the sky, and Jaxx looked up. The craft was in a bird dive heading for his location.

“Not good,” said Jaxx, peering around, doing his best to locate a way off this roof.

He eyed a small shed-like structure with a door. That had to be the way down, the way off this death trap.

He hurried to the shed, hearing the Agadon barrel its way closer. He grasped the door knob and turned.

Locked.

He growled, rearing back with his leg and spun, popping the door open with a round house kick. Nothing but tools and darkness, and more importantly, no staircase that led down to help him escape.

He glanced in the craft’s direction. It would be on top of him any second. His eyes darted left and right. There was no other door.

Zoopha! Zoopha!

Jaxx leaped to the side, somersaulting away from the incoming ion blasts.

Crackow!

A blow of warmth fell over him, and large wood splinters landed on Jaxx. He pushed up and glanced in the direction it came.

The shack was a pile of smoking lumber. He shook his head and stood, dusting himself off, watching the Agadon loop around for another pass.

20

Denver, Colorado

Zoopha! Zoopha!

The Agadon ship shot blue ions, strafing the top of the skyscraper. Jaxx ran, then leaped to the side, and rolled out of the way. Several chunks of tar and rooftop splattered over him.

Jaxx went to push himself up and instead ducked, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.

“Holy…”

Ducking down wasn’t enough. He went into fetal position as the starfighter skimmed the rooftop, sparks clamoring against its belly. Jaxx’s world went into slow motion, and he viewed the Agadon in the cockpit, their eyes meeting one another’s — the Agadon looking a little pissed he hadn’t knocked Jaxx off the rooftop or squished him under his starfighter’s wings.

The Agadon pulled up just as the back of one of its wings brushed across Jaxx’s hair.

This starfighter pilot was ballsy.

Jaxx sucked in heavy breaths, surprised he wasn’t decapitated. He calmed himself and surveyed the area, now having a little more time before the Agadon had another pass at him. He looked left and right. There had to be a way off this building. Any window? Any sun roof? Any —

Jaxx gasped. Yes, windows. “Perfect.”

Around the edge of one side of the roof was a railing. He nodded, formulating his plan quickly. He rushed over to the parachute and dislodged it from the I-beam.

He glanced up. “Dammit.” His heart pounded faster and his stomach flipped a few more times. The Agadon was already coming around for another shot at ripping Jaxx to shreds, and by now, perhaps these Agadon weren’t looking to keep Jaxx alive anymore. Perhaps this guy was heading in hot, baring down to kill Jaxx. Maybe the Agadon’s wish to keep Jaxx in one piece was now a side note or a long lost memory.

Jaxx hurried to the railing. This was going to be close.

He tied the parachute’s risers, brake and toggle to the railing, pulling tightly, making sure is it was snug enough for his body weight.

He leaned over the railing, making sure his plan could work. When he saw the closest window, he nodded. It was in reach.

He grabbed the parachute’s canopy and shuffled his feet backwards, stretching the parachute as far as it could go.

He took another look at the heavens. The Agadon pilot was closing in faster.

Jaxx took off, running as fast as his Chi would take him toward the railing, holding on to the parachute’s canopy, making sure he was squeezing the parachute’s material with all his might.

Zoopha! Zoopha! Zoopha!

More of the roof cracked and broke off as ion bolts strafed the rooftop.

The debris from the ion cannon fire hitting the roof rushed up like a waive against the soles of Jaxx’s boots. He threw his arms out and took a flying leap, his fingers curling around the canopy material as if it was his first born baby. He wasn’t letting go of the sucker, no matter what.

He cleared the railing, seeing hundreds of feet below, his feet sending funny prickly, nerve-like sensations to his shins.

He twisted in mid-air to face the building and fell for a brief second. He grunted, the parachute jerking him up and toward the building.

He put his feet out, the rush of the building coming at him like a tidal wave, and kicked as hard as humanly possible.

Kishish!

The long and wide, tinted window shattered into a thousand pieces. He let go of the parachute, allowing his swinging momentum to take him into the building.

He landed on the tile floor, awkwardly somersaulting to a standing position. He twisted around, his mind and body on high alert, half-expecting the Agadon pilot to be flying through the window. He relaxed when he saw the starfighter’s rear booster’s ion burn. The Agadon was heading away from the building and toward the battle that was taking place on the horizon.

He carefully wiped off the shards of glass covering him. They tapped the tile loudly as each one fell to the floor.

The Agadon had left, and he took a deep breath. It was a close call. “That was crazy.” Hell, several months ago, evading ion blasters and jumping off skyscrapers wasn’t on his resume. It wasn’t on anyone’s resume.

He wiped his hands together, thinking he could easily fill in a lot more shit on his resume than just jumping off a skyscraper. But, as always, and like his archaeology research, articles, and books — ain’t no one going to believe him.

He shrugged, finding a wall to lean against. He slid down it, plopping on his butt, staring at the onslaught happening in the sky a mile or two away. It was like an evil version of the Fourth of July but those weren’t firecrackers blowing up out there. They were aliens and people.

And this was probably happening all over the world.

He palmed his face and let his head hang. The only way to get to South America was if he hitched a ride. Getting through the Agadon offensive would be as difficult as difficult could be. Perhaps sticking around Denver for a while to help the Marines was the correct choice, and the choice he should have made before he jumped into a helicopter.

He slapped his knees. “Get up, Jaxx. No rest for the weary.” He pushed himself up and made his way out of the office room door and into a hallway.

Elevators stood on one side of the hall. He made his way to them and pressed the down arrow, hearing the ding. He folded his arms over his chest, waiting.

The elevator door opened. He stepped in, pressing the lobby button.

Jaxx! came Mya’s voice, penetrating his mind.

Jaxx paused, a little stunned Mya got through to him at a time like this. Are you in a safe place? replied Jaxx.

Yes. And Drew doesn’t have much more time. Get back to me. We have the third. We’re ready to go with you.

Jaxx looked down at his feet. Why the hell couldn’t they get a damn doctor to fix his poor nephew? He huffed, chewing on his bottom lip.

Screw it. He’d pull the bullet out himself. It could save Drew. Or perhaps kill him. Right now, there wasn’t another option. He needed Drew, his last remaining known relative, to stay alive.

21

Denver, Colorado

“Drew,” cried Megan. “Listen to me.”

Drew was listless and let his head drop to the side. “Let me die…”

“No. That’s not an option,” said Megan. Drew did his best to look at her, only to see a blurry resemblance of her and strangely enough, a hazy park behind her. “We are —”

An explosion cut Megan off, and a fire consumed the park, a wall of smoke veiling it a moment later. A rush of heat consuming him. Megan toppled into him, though managed to stay on her feet while keeping Drew and his wheelchair from flipping to the side.

Megan looked behind her. “Was that another bomb?”

Who the hell knew. More the reason for Drew to drift off and fall asleep — forever. The war, this constant pounding, wasn’t helping his mood a bit.

Megan pushed Drew around and farther away from the park fire. Burning trees and play structures crackled across the wind like a camp fire.

Megan stopped in the middle of a sidewalk, watching the flames, her hand on her chest. Drew yawned, his eyes creeping heavier and heavier, slowly closing. Of all things, being tired in an adrenaline-filled combat zone should be the last thing taking over Drew’s body.

But death was coming. That he understood more than anything.

Mya came up to Drew, laying her hand against his forearm. It was comforting, and a bright energy went through him. He straightened and his stomach pain becoming more of a dull ache.

Mya rested her head on his shoulder. “You are dying, Drew. I can help you for a little bit longer before your body doesn’t accept our help anymore.” She backed away toward Damion and Lily, her eyes sad. “Thank you for helping me for the time we knew each other.”

Drew nodded, forcing a smile. If this girl was the last thing he saw before his last breath, then all the better. It would be a beautiful ending to a screweded-up, marijuana-confused, girlfriend-less life.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned again. “My pleasure.”

Mya put her hand on his heart. “Let’s keep trying to find a doctor. Maybe there is a way to save you. I —” She stopped and gave Damion and Lily a look. “Jaxx is back.”

All three dashed off.

“What? Wait,” called Drew.

Megan pushed Drew forward.

“Where are we going?”

“Didn’t you hear her? They found Jaxx,” Megan replied.

“Yeah, that guy.” His head drooped, but he managed to keep his eyes up to watch the kids run down the sidewalk.

Drew slowly shook his head, pointing a shaky finger at the structures they were heading toward. “No, no, no. Not there.” They had just come from the library, and now they were going back?

He lowered his arm onto his leg and closed his eyes. He yawned again, feeling the rocking of the wheelchair as Megan proceeded to push him as fast as she could go. The kids’ footsteps tapped on the road, their soles catching Drew’s eyes.

Then the kids faded as his eyes closed. His head bobbed up and down, his eyelids fluttered several times before he couldn’t continue his giant chore of keeping them open.

His chin hit his chest, and in a flash, he was unconscious.

22

Denver, Colorado

Jaxx exited the elevator and made his way out of the main entrance doors and to the sidewalk. He stopped for a moment, happy for the nice peaceful pause.

No guns. No running. No fighting. Just…calm.

He was farther away from combat but still far from Drew, Mya, and the rest. He gazed up at the skyscraper he almost bit the big one on. It loomed high, and a wisp of smoke rose from the top, most likely from the remnants of the strafing runs almost ending his life.

Krackow!

Jaxx went to the ground in a defensive position as an explosion rocked somewhere nearby. He pressed his palms on the cement and studied the area.

A car was on fire across the street, and a gaggle of Marines in battle suits ran by on the other side of the road, their once glimmering armor now full of dark soot and burn streaks.

An ion zipped from a skyscraper across the way, slamming into the ground and near a Marines’ feet. Rock and gravel shot upward, lifting a few Marines into the air and onto their back and sides, their suits crashing loudly on impact.

More Marines rounded a corner and crouched low, their weapons trained on the culprit — an Agadon sniper with a large weapon poking out from the skyscapers busted windows.

Wapooh!

The alien shot another blast, smacking against a Marine, pushing him backward. He fell and slid across the ground, shaking off the blast a moment later before standing back up.

He aimed his rifle at the skyscraper and pulled the trigger, the rifle pressing hard against the crease between his chest plate and shoulder.

B-da-da-da-da! B-da-da-da-da!

The Marines let loose, sending blasts of slugs the Agadon’s way.

The Agadon ducked back in, hiding himself from view. Pieces of skyscraper broke off at every pounding hit.

Wapooh!

The Marine fell over, holding his neck. Jaxx rushed to him, just as another Marine arrived.

“Get back, sir,” ordered the Marine. “Find safety. You —”

Wapooh!

Another direct hit, this time hitting the other Marine in the neck. The guy went down, clutching his throat — a weak point in the armor.

Jaxx grabbed one of their legs each and pulled them behind a car. One of the Marines unstrapped his helmet and flipped it off, taking in deep breaths.

B-da-da-da-da! B-da-da-da-da!

More Marine cannon fire. Jaxx looked around. There were more than he could count.

He glanced back down at the Marine. The kid was young. Maybe in his early twenties, maybe late teens? A black-and-blue welt was forming on the side of his neck, and his face was covered in sweat. He was cringing and wincing, gathering his bearings, but the guy would make it.

However, the other Marine on the ground next to him was motionless. He was either knocked out or dead.

Jaxx unstrapped the guy’s helmet, then ducked out of the way as more blasts came near his position, puncturing the concrete nearby.

The Agadon sniper was a damn near perfect shot, and more Marines dropped to the ground, also hit in the neck by the alien prick.

Jaxx brought his attention to the motionless Marine by his side and slid the mask off the Marine’s face. He gasped. Master Sergeant Angel Segarra, Mya’s father? A red burn mark was ablaze on his anterior throat just below his Adam’s apple.

He checked Segarra’s vitals, pressing his finger next to the Master Sergeant’s windpipe and against his carotid artery.

No pulse.

Mya went through his mind, and her innocent eyes looked up at him. His heart poured out to her, feeling compassion for the child. The last thing she needed right now was a dead father.

“Soldier, how do I get his chest plate off?”

The Marine next to him looked dazed, his hand covering his growing welt as he leaned against the car in front of him. He took one look at who Jaxx was trying to help, and his eyes went wide. He quickly unclipped Segarra’s shoulder clasps, and the chest plate armor opened up on its own, lifting off his chest in a hover. It moved to the side, resting on the pavement.

Wapooh!

The chest plate pinged and spun wildly about. The sniper was quick and, more importantly, ruthless.

Jaxx interlocked his fingers together, pressing his palm on Segarra’s lower sternum, performing chest compressions. He heaved, pressing up and down in fluid rhythm motion.

“Come on, buddy. Your daughter needs you,” said Jaxx, pressing down again and again.

B-da-da-da-da! B-da-da-da-da!

Jaxx ducked, wincing, wanting to cover his ears. He looked up. The kid he just rescued had his cannon on his hip, going berserker on the Agadon sniper and lighting up the skyscraper with bullets the size of Jaxx’s hand.

“No, get down,” yelled Jaxx.

Wapooh!

The kid fell back, his cannon blaster falling to his side, cracking a small portion of the road when it landed.

Jaxx rushed over to him, pulling him to safety.

The kid touched the top of his chest plate armor. The sniper nearly tagged the young man in the neck again.

“Stay,” Jaxx demanded, pointing at the kid, like a dad to his unruly child. “Don’t move, you understand?”

The guy’s face gnarled in anger. “They are killing us out there. I can’t let them keep killing my brothers and sisters.”

Jaxx nodded, fully understanding the kid’s plight. Jaxx had been there, done that, especially when Rivkah was involved. When you’re in combat, everyone fighting near you and with you are your brothers and sisters. There wasn’t any ifs, ands, or buts about it. You lived and died side by side. But Jaxx didn’t want to needlessly lose another brother in battle, especially this young man in front of him.

Jaxx moved back to Segarra and continued chest compressions. “We need to save your sergeant here, soldier.”

“Yeah.” The kid’s head went up and down, but there was no indication that he thought it was possible to save Segarra. He gazed from Segarra to the skyscraper and back, then snapped to attention. “What do you need, sir?”

“For you to stay put.” Jaxx’s hands kept pumping, his Chi rising in his solar plexus. Maybe if he sent Chi Segarra’s way, the man would start breathing again.

He blasted Chi down his shoulders, through his arms, and into his hands. A fuzzy sensation, warm and loving, washed through Jaxx. He closed his eyes and stopped pushing, instead holding his hands on Segarra’s chest. To his surprise, the compressions continued. The Chi was like a defibrillator, and Segarra’s chest rose off the ground at every zap.

Segarra coughed and his eyelids shot open. He went into a ball and cleared his airway with more hacking.

Wapooh!

An ion bolt whizzed by them, hammering the ground with blue flame, crumpling the pavement like it was paper.

Jaxx grabbed Segarra’s side arm — a large, wide energy weapon. “That’s it. I’m done with blue face up there.” He turned, one eye closed, the other eye targeting the window where the Agadon was shooting. It was vacant, but it wouldn’t be for long.

He slipped his finger near the red light trigger at the back of the trigger guard. All he had to do was tap the red light and a blast of photon energy would fill the Agadon’s head, killing him instantly.

He paused, waiting.

Waiting.

The alien poked up and into view, moving into sniper mode.

“Nope,” said Jaxx, pulling the trigger, the hot energy blast zipping out of the gun’s muzzle and sailing like a small missile toward the sniper. He holstered the weapon back into Segarra’s holster, and stood. “Let’s go.”

The young soldier looked aghast. “But, get down, sir. Duck. You —”

Jaxx shook his head. “The prick is dead.” He turned around, pointing at an Agadon slumped over the edge of the window, his arms hanging down like a rag doll.

“Holy shit…”

Jaxx shook his head. “What’s your name, son?”

“Private First Class Lonnie Doblin.”

“Well, Lonnie, there was nothing holy about that.” Jaxx bent down and helped Segarra up. “Nothing at all holy about war.”

Segarra coughed. “Jaxx?” He put his hand up for Jaxx to grasp it.

Jaxx grasped it and helped him up, the two of them grunting and heaving and straining. Segarra was weak. He stood, holding himself up by pressing down on Jaxx’s shoulder. “My gratitu—”

“Save it. We have to get back to the base,” Jaxx said. “Your daughter needs me.”

Segarra’s eyes widened. He took a step forward, nearly fumbling to the ground, his body shaking, his eyes still a bit glassy. He held on to a car, his head down, getting his bearings. “We have a vehicle around the corner. We’ll get to my daughter straight away.”

Wapooh!

A fire from hell struck Jaxx in the side and he flopped to the ground, yelping loudly. He turned, seeing Taz running on the street and slipping between two buildings, an ion rifle in his hands.

Metallic laughter filled the air.

Segarra and the young Marine grabbed Jaxx, pulling him around a large van.

Jaxx brought his hands to his sides. He was bleeding, though Taz’s energy blast cauterized most of the wound for him. This was the last thing he needed.

Jaxx stood, leaning against the side of the van. He brought his Chi through his hand and to his wound. It eased the pain, but didn’t take it away. It didn’t matter. He had to get Taz before the asshole took out any more Marines.

He pulled the gun out of Segarra’s holster for the second time.

“Hey,” yelled Segarra.

Jaxx ignored him and peeked around the van. Taz was gone.

Not good, especially for the Marines.

23

Denver, Colorado

A car flipped over, thrown from a source other than weapon’s fire. It slid across the road, slamming into another car parked on the side of the street.

That had to be Taz.

Jaxx moved around the van, glancing from the other side.

Bratatatatat ratatatatat!

Machine gun fire went off and Jaxx saw Taz round another corner, bullets barely missing him. Another car went flying, smashing on top of a truck.

Jaxx held up Segarra’s gun. “Let’s end this guy,” said Jaxx, holding his side.

Segarra, leaning up against the van, still a little weak, unholstered another gun, flipping it a few times around his finger like a gunslinger in the old west. “Let’s not be gentle on him.”

A wry grin formed on Jaxx’s lips. “Not a chance.” He turned and raced into a small, four-story office complex behind him. He pushed his feet hard up a staircase. He’d had enough running up and down staircases for a lifetime.

He made his way to the top floor, kicked open a door and pushed over a table, flipping it on its side. He pulled the table to a ridiculously oversized window that spanned the office.

He pressed the table up against the window, stepped back, aimed, and fired.

Window shards splashed outward. He narrowed his eyes and looked down, seeing the splintered glass rain on top of the armored Marines. “Shit.” He should have warned them. He waived below, letting him know he was the culprit of the mess.

They weren’t fazed. They were too stuck on Taz and his maniac powers, throwing cars left and right.

Why was Taz doing that? It wasn’t effective, not one bit.

Jaxx ducked, sinking low, and crept up against the table for cover and pointed his weapon down at Taz.

Jaxx pulled the trigger, the gun recoiling back, slinging a hot seething photon blast at his arch nemesis.

Taz twirled to the side like a ballerina, and the shot missed wide. He laughed like a buzzsaw chewing up granite.

Taz energetically lifted another car, tossing it to the side.

What’s this guy doing? “Oh, shit.” It was simple. Taz was distracting them. But, from what?

Agadon Starfighters, as plain as day from Jaxx’s high vantage point, were coming in fast.

Jaxx dropped his gun and placed both hands on either side of his mouth, using them as a makeshift megaphone, “It’s a strafing run! Find cover!”

Zoopha! Zoopha! Zoopha! Zoopha!

Starfighters zipped overhead, gone in a blink of an eye, dropping ion bombs by the dozens.

Jaxx dove to the floor, covering his head and bringing as much Chi into his body as he could, shielding himself in case there was a direct hit to the building.

The small skyscraper shuddered, vibrating back and forth as if a train was passing by. The explosions hitting the street and buildings were loud, and cement and pavement rumbled from the impact, sounding like a buffalo stampede.

Then everything quieted, and Jaxx lifted up and got to his feet, dust and glass falling off of him as he did so. Glancing around, the entire complex was full of shattered glass.

He took a step forward, hearing the crunching of glass under his boots. He bent down and picked up his gun, holding it by his side.

He glanced down at the street, and his jaw fell. Men were lying face down, their battle suits scarred, some completely punctured. Legs or arms were bent in the wrong direction, and no one was moving.

“You mother fucker,” came a voice, loud and down below.

Taz stepped in the street, his face twisted in an evil smile. “I’m not your mother, human.”

Segarra was standing on the street, and a block away from Taz, holding a cannon at his hip, ready to poke holes throughout Taz’s body. “You killed all of my men,” he seethed through gritted teeth.

Taz didn’t move. “I dare you to pull the trigger.” He thrust his hand outward, and the cannon flew out of Segerra’s hands.

Segarra, baffled, took a few paces back, his hands up. “How?”

Taz motioned all around. “How do you think I was throwing these cars every which way?” He laughed. “Magic?”

Segarra reached behind him and pulled a knife from the back of his armor. “Come and get it, blue-man.” He taunted him with his eyes and leaned forward, wiggling his tongue back and forth, egging Taz on.

Taz marched forward, heading for Segarra. Jaxx bent down, lining his gun’s sights onto Taz’s head.

Taz stopped as if feeling something. He turned and looked up at Jaxx dead in the eyes. “No, no, no…Jaxx. Don’t be a naughty boy. You’re next, so wait your turn. Okay?”

Jaxx pulled the trigger just as Taz sidestepped toward the van, disappearing from view. The photon charge ripped a hole in the van’s roof.

Jaxx dropped his gun by his side. He had to get down there. Segarra didn’t stand a chance against Taz, and for the sake of Mya, her father had to live.

Jaxx bolted out of the door, gun by his side, and down the hallway. He thrust the entrance doors wide open, busting them off the hinges.

“Taz,” growled Jaxx. “I’ll make a deal.”

Taz stepped around the Van. “Yes, Jaxx?”

“You let Segarra go, and I’ll let you live.” Jaxx looked at Segarra and cocked his head to the right, telling Segarra to ditch this party and run to safety. Instead, Segarra puffed up his chest and stood his ground. The stubborn bastard wasn’t moving an inch.

More metallic laughter and Taz put his hands on his hips. “No. I would prefer killing him and taking you prisoner. Deal?” A sly grin rose on Taz’s face. He had a gleam in his eye. He had something else hidden up his sleeve.

Segarra clipped his chest plate on, then slipped his helmet and armored mask over his head, clicking it in place. He dropped his hands by his sides, clenching his fist. One of his sidearms was in Jaxx’s hand. The other holstered at his side.

Segarra went for it.

Wapooh!

Segarra’s gun sparked and shot out of his hands, spinning wildly on the road.

Jaxx glanced at Taz. The alien’s upper back cannon was outstretched and over his shoulder, smoke trailing from its barrel.

“Segarra,” said Jaxx, walking out into the street and between the two. He faced Taz, squeezing the gun’s hand grip. “Leave.”

“We can both take this guy,” replied Segarra, his voice muffled behind his mask.

Jaxx shook his head. “No. You can’t. I can.”

Segarra didn’t budge. “I don’t think so.”

A sting from the wound in his side shot toward his midline, cramping his diaphragm and lungs for a moment. He didn’t blink or budge from the pain, but wanted to thank his body for the reminder.

“Get your daughter. She needs you,” responded Jaxx.

Taz took a step forward, and Jaxx went into a defensive crouch, his gun outstretched, pointing it at Taz’s chest.

Taz sighed. “I’m growing bored and tired. Why aren’t you using your Chi, Jaxx?”

“Leave, Segarra…now!” roared Jaxx.

“Shit.” Segarra slammed his fists together. His footsteps clanked, reverberating off of the buildings surrounding them as he walked away and around a corner. He finally got his wits about him.

Good. The last thing he wanted to deal with was keeping Segarra alive while doing his best to end Taz’s miserable existence.

“Now what, Jaxx?” Taz circled Jaxx. “Do we just beat each other to a pulp? That wouldn’t get us anywhere. Shall we instead do something more important, more intelligent? You know, like run this entire galaxy together. We’d be unstoppable.”

“This isn’t a Sci-Fi movie, Taz.” He kept his eyes on Taz. “Get a grip. You think I’m going to suddenly change my mind and go ahead with your plan of killing trillions of souls across the galaxy?”

Taz moved his head up and down as if Jaxx was finally understanding the Agadon system. “That’s what we were bred for.”

“Who bred you?”

Taz stopped and stood straight, tipping his head to the side as if in thought. “Oh, the ancient race. You wouldn’t know them. They didn’t like what they created with the Agadon, Jaxx, so we ended them…all.” He shrugged. “We have that power and you can have it too.” He reached his hand out and moved his fingertips back and forth, a gesture of come and join me.

Jaxx wouldn’t take his invitation even if it meant bringing back Kiyo-zan. Hell, Kiyo-zan would kick his ass if he did that.

A pebble, or something similar, fell and dinged against the ground somewhere around the corner and behind Taz.

Jaxx jumped to the side, shooting his photon energy weapon, slamming several blasts against Taz. Taz fell to the ground, holding his chest. He touched the blood and glanced at it, then rubbed it between his index finger and thumb.

“Aw, flesh wounds,” muttered Taz, standing. He waved his hand in the air. A dozen or so Agadon emerged from behind cars and back alleyways. “You caught my bluff. Very perceptive, Jaxx. But you won’t be able to stop an entire Agadon race from taking over your precious Earth.”

Taz thrust his palm at a car near Jaxx. The moment Jaxx saw it move, he rushed over and rested his hands on the tire, sending Chi to it, cutting Taz’s energy from moving or tossing it somewhere that might hurt him.

The car stayed in place.

“You’re getting good, aren’t you?” blared Taz’s tinny voice.

An anger screamed through Jaxx, taking over his muscles and central nervous system. He raged, blaring, “Taz, you end now.”

Jaxx brought up all the forces of good and evil into his body, his hands and his feet vibrated heat he could barely withstand, his body like a blaze of fire. He lowered his chin, keeping his eyes dead on Taz.

Taz spun in the air, grabbing energy, and flung it at Jaxx.

A wind flew into Jaxx as he took a step forward, and then another step, all to end this asshole right here and now.

Taz stepped back, clearly confused. Fear was in his eyes, something Jaxx had never seen from an Agadon before.

Jaxx rose the ball of anger and love, the alpha and the omega, and all that ever was and will be, swelling it in his solar plexus. His body trembled and he fell to his knees, slamming his palms into the ground.

A pulse shot to his heart and he gasped, his hands flailing backwards and his back arching toward the heavens. He screamed as hot hate poured from his mind’s eye — the anger he held on to from Slade’s evil doings, to the bad in life constantly overcoming the good, and to Taz and this Agadon invasion that was set before Jaxx.

At the same instant, beautiful, oxygen-rich love shot outward from his heart — from images of helping people with his life’s passion of archaeological work and giving them secret knowledge, to buying homeless people dinners throughout his life. Plus more images of beauty, of nature, of helping a dog that had fallen through the ice, to rehabilitating an injured bird he had found in his backyard.

An electric fire consumed him, blasting out of every pore in his body. He shook, his eyes watered, and he screamed to the high heavens and beyond.

And then it stopped and Jaxx was covered in sweat, his breath coming quick and heavy. He glanced up as his vision started to fade, only to see Taz and the rest of the Agadon on the ground as well, electrical sparks spitting out of their bodies in every which direction, their arms and legs twitching.

He smiled as he closed his eyes, his head slumping against his arm and his body outstretched in the middle of the road.

He raised his arm and extended his middle finger. “Don’t come back too soon, assholes.”

24

Denver, Colorado

The thrump, thrump, thrump of the helicopter rotors and wind blasting everywhere like a mini tornado, jostled Jaxx awake. He opened his eyes. His body was strapped to a gurney.

How did he end up here?

He yawned and wiggled around, his arms and legs still half asleep as if he was in the middle of a bout with the flu. What the hell happened? Did he fall asleep?

Marines were on either side of him, lifting the gurney and pulling Jaxx up cement steps. Was he back at the base?

“Get him inside,” said a voice. “And, has anyone seen my daughter?”

It was Segarra.

Jaxx squinted from the beaming sun blaring down on him and the gurney bounced up and down, nearly making it impossible for him to see everything he needed in order to assess the situation.

“Daddy,” cried a young girl.

“Is he okay?” came another voice, this one a woman, her hand resting on Jaxx’s chest. It was Megan.

“Where am I?” asked Jaxx over the commotion around him.

“At the library,” responded Megan.

The Marines carried Jaxx through the library entrance. Now he could see, and yes indeed, he was inside the library. Books were littered all over the ground, the shelves fallen, some broken. Men and women raced around, others were giving orders like their lives depended on it — and it did.

“What happened?” inquired Jaxx. He went to move, to get up, but the straps were too tight. “Get me out of this thing.”

He’d just break the straps, but damned if he wasn’t drained of all energy.

Segarra walked over, looming over Jaxx, a happy Mya in his arms.

“Let me down, Daddy.”

Segarra kissed her cheek and lowered her to Jaxx. “Unstrap him while I heal his body.”

Segarra ordered several Marines to unclip Jaxx from the gurney. They then lowered the gurney to the ground. Mya took several steps toward Jaxx and put her hands on his feet. Her warm energy spread up his legs. His body tingled as fresh life crawled into every cell and his eyes became less heavy and his breathing came easier.

Within minutes, he was back to normal. His vision was no longer blurry and his muscles were strong, ready to take on the entire Agadon armada.

Speaking of which.

He went into a seated position, glaring up at Segarra. “What the hell happened?”

Segarra folded his arms across his chest. “It seems you can do what my daughter does. Somehow, through some sort of magical —” he put his fingers up in quote marks, “— energy thing that I can’t comprehend, you can cause a malfunction within the Agadon wiring, short-circuiting every Agadon in range.”

“You mean, the Agadon are gone, or better yet, dead?”

Segarra frowned, shaking his head. “No, not a chance, but right now we’re at a moment of calm as all Agadon units in the city are face down, twitching. We know from past experience that those bodies are out of commission for good. We’ll have a short time of peace until the Agadon can get another fleet overhead and continue pounding us below.”

Jaxx lowered his shoulders. “And that’s what they’re doing? Bringing another fleet our way?”

“As we speak.”

“Crap.”

Segarra nodded. “Crap is a very good word for our situation. But you have given us a breather, Jaxx. Thank you.”

“How long?”

Segarra picked up Mya. “Maybe twenty minutes.”

Jaxx looked at Mya. “Where are the other two children?”

She gestured over to Drew, who was slouched in the wheel chair, his eyes closed, drooling like he was a little kid knocked out from a sugar overdose.

A young girl, sandy-blonde hair, stood next to Drew and smiled. Damion, on the other side of Drew, dipped his head like one samurai warrior to another.

Jaxx stood, walking over to his nephew, putting his hand on his forehead. “He’s clammy and cold.” He turned, worry on his face. “Any doctors around to get this bullet out of him?”

“They did,” said Megan. “A Corpsman pulled it out.” Her eyes lowered. “We don’t think he’ll make it, though.”

Jaxx stiffened. “Even with these three kids healing him?”

“Nothing seems to be working, Jaxx. I’m sorry,” replied Megan. Her lower chin trembled. She was keeping strong and holding in a cry.

“Dammit.” He punched his leg, turning, eyes ready to kill more Agadon. “When the next wave comes,” he told Segarra, “put me in a room with these three children. They’ll heal me after I send out an energy blast that will make the Agadon think twice before coming back.”

Mya wiggled out of her father’s arms and dropped to the ground. “No, Jaxx. That’s harmful to your body. It shortens your life.”

“So what. I’m not going to live through this anyway. My job is to give my life for the benefit of others.”

Mya shook her head. “That’s not right. You’re supposed to fix the pyramid network, and we have time, right now, to go to the key pyramid. Your life isn’t for giving to others. It’s for righting the wrong that others did, and in that way, you’ll be giving others a gift of your selfless service that will last their entire lives.”

Jaxx was stupefied. Since when did six-year-olds talk like this? Nonetheless, she didn’t add, “…and, like the prophecies say, your selfless act of fixing the pyramid nexus will also end your life.”

Mya walked over to Jaxx. “Don’t be scared to die.”

Jaxx patted her head. “Thank you for being concerned. My mission has changed.” He was sure of it. “I’m here to help the people on Earth fight back against these Agadon, okay? I can do that one city at a time, no matter how long it takes, but I can only do that with you three by my side, healing me after each time I blast these buggers out of the sky and out of their bodies with my energy.”

Damion made his way over to Jaxx, gesturing for him to lower his head down to Damion’s height. He wanted to whisper something in Jaxx’s ear.

Jaxx bent down.

Damion lifted up on his tip-toes, whispering, “You’re an idiot. Listen to us. We can make it to the key pyramid if we leave now. But you’ll have to fake-out Mya’s dad.”

He’d have to fake-out Mya’s dad? What for? It didn’t matter, Jaxx was staying, and he’d convince these kids to do the same.

“Jaxx,” said Megan. “You haven’t seen the full weight of what these kids can do. Trust them. Go south with us.”

Jaxx pointed to his chest. “You’d go south even if I don’t go? One, how? Two, why?”

Together, and not long ago, Damion, Mya, and Jaxx had held hands and closed their eyes, meditating. They had a vision and had all seen why the pyramid network didn’t close on Earth, and that there was a black pyramid underneath Machu Picchu. It was the key pyramid. In the vision, and like the prophecies proclaimed, Jaxx was the only one who could fix the network.

For the kids, along with Megan and Drew, to go alone would be pointless.

“We stay here,” said Jaxx, pointing to the ground.

Mya spoke up. “Deep down, you know what you’re supposed to do.”

Jaxx paused, thinking. Even if he wanted to stay, he knew his body would pull him to the key pyramid. Somehow, someway. He clenched his fist. He did not want to put the kids in any more danger, but they’d also find a way to get down to South America. He rubbed his chin, trying to bite his tongue. The words came out anyway. “How long would it take to get to Peru?”

Segarra was taken aback, clearly not liking the idea. “With our propulsion, maybe two hours?”

“Damn,” Jaxx’s heart fell. “Do you think you could hold off these Agadon for two hours while we make our way to South America?”

Segarra huffed. “No. Not a chance. They are bringing twice the fleet size as last time and that means more ammunition. The only way we could hold them off is if you and the kids were here with us do your voodoo stuff.” He locked his knees and took a deep breath, flaring out his chest. “I like your plan of going from city to city. It’s sound. It will work. However, you taking the kids, and my kid, down to Peru would get us all killed. And, I’m not permitting such an act.”

Mya slapped her hands together, getting her father’s attention. “Daddy, but —”

Segarra cut her off. “Don’t argue, baby doll. I’m the final say with you and this little team of yours, okay? We’ve come upon dangerous times and we need you more than ever.”

Mya retreated, her body staying put, but slumping. “Okay, fine.”

Jaxx glanced at Drew. His skin was pale and his breath was shallow. He’d be surprised if the guy had five more hours of life left in him.

Jaxx’s heart contracted and the knot in his throat expanded. He wanted his little nephew to live, to rule whatever it was that Mya said he was going to rule.

He pondered for a few precious moments. From what he knew during his archeological days, a pyramid was in fact a healing chamber.

The shape of the pyramid was like a carbon atom, a tetrahedron, in fact. And that atom, when aligned to magnetic north, hummed for some reason. He’d never gotten past that mystery.

Pyramids had another amazing characteristic — all of them, whether they were in Egypt or somewhere else on the planet, always aligned to magnetic north, which may be why the limestone blocks chimed when hit with a hammer. Sound had an amazing healing property within itself. Because of the gravitational pull inside a pyramid, the energy inside is enhanced, bringing with it positive ions, and any negative ions trying to invade the pyramid walls, were instantly converted into positive ions — another pyramid anomaly.

And since a pyramid shape acts like a lens, the gravity pull and the way the positive ions interact with the pull, a pyramid enhances the magnetism inside and around it. In that way, it lifts the ground it sits upon and lifts the ground 180 degrees on the other side of the earth at exactly the same latitude. At least, that’s what his theory suggested, which would make sense, and perhaps that’s why pyra means fire in greek, and mede means middle in latin — “fire in the middle.”

Put Drew in the middle of the pyramid and he’d have a better chance at healing? While in the pyramid, the kids could run their energies on Drew as well. That could be the way to save his nephew’s life. It was a long shot, but it was all they had.

He turned and faced Segarra. “Your daughter is right. We have to go.”

Segarra stared ominously at Jaxx, his eyes like rifles aiming at Jaxx’s pupils. He cleared his throat. “Okay, Jaxx. Let me tell you what you’re going to do.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “There is a room back there that I’ll put you, my daughter, and the two other children in. The moment the Agadon enter our airspace, we’ll shoot them down with your magical powers. Do you understand?”

Jaxx chewed his bottom lip. How was he going to explain this to Segarra without a struggle or violence, especially in front of his daughter? “Have you seen what I could do to the Agadon…by myself?”

Segarra nodded, knowing where he was going with this. Jaxx could knock Segarra out easily.

“Good.” He stepped forward.

Leaning backward in an attempt to avoid a potential punch, Segarra put his hand on Jaxx’s chest, stopping him from moving. “You have your orders.”

Jaxx glanced at Mya, bringing his fingers into a fist, ready to knock out Segarra and anyone else that stood in their way. Mya’s eyes were full of panic and she withdrew, slightly bending over and looking up at the scene between him and her dad. She tucked her hands between her legs. She mouthed, “Please, no.”

Jaxx dipped his head in her direction and uncurled his fingers. He let out a gush of air. “Fine. We’ll do what you ask. Where is the room?”

“Excellent.” Segarra side-glanced over his shoulder. “Gatto.”

“Yes, sir.” A young man, curly hair, rushed up next to Segarra, his back straight, his eyes forward. Perfect posture.

“Send this man, my daughter, and those two kids to conference room four.”

“Yes, sir.” Gatto put his arm out. “This way.”

* * *

The room was white walled, had no windows, and included a table. Master Sergeant Segarra wasn’t in sight. Yet, Gatto stood quietly by the door, quietly waiting for Segarra to come back.

Megan and Drew were in the room as well. Drew’s eyes were sunken and shadowed. There was a pale sheen to his skin.

He wasn’t long for this world.

If Jaxx’s thoughts and theories were correct, then the pyramid was Drew’s last chance. It could heal him. And they had about ten minutes to find a way out of here under Segarra’s nose before the Agadon arrived in Denver airspace.

Jaxx and the kids were spread around the table, all sitting. Lily gave Jaxx a slight head nod, her eyes as innocent as Mya’s, her courage bigger than her body — bigger than Jaxx’s.

She nonchalantly stood and made her way to Jaxx. She whispered in Jaxx’s ear. “He won’t shoot us.”

Jaxx shot her an odd look.

She continued, “Get up and walk out. He won’t shoot that gun at us.”

Jaxx eyed the rifle that Gatto held across his chest.

Gatto’s brows furrowed. “What’s the little girl saying?”

Jaxx stood. “Let’s go, kids.”

Mya and Damion pushed their chairs out and stood next to Lily, as if they knew exactly what was happening.

Megan paused from stroking Drew’s forearm, no doubt waiting for the inevitable — Drew’s death. “What’s going on?”

“Follow me,” said Jaxx, strutting past the wild eyed Gatto and reaching for the door knob.

Gatto sprang into action, dropping his rifle on the floor, and lunged for Jaxx’s outreached arm. “You can’t do that.” He wrapped his fingers around Jaxx’s wrist.

Jaxx brought his Chi up, bringing a fierce heat into his arm.

Gatto jerked back, wiggling his hand and cringing in pain. “What did you do?” he cried.

Jaxx ignored him and opened the door. “This way, kids.” He motioned for Megan to follow.

They slowly made their way down the hall — nothing to see here.

Gatto bolted out of the room, holding his hand and speaking into his com device attached to his shoulder fatigue. “Master Sergeant Segarra, we have a situation.”

Jaxx and the kids continued to walk away, Megan behind them and pushing Drew in his wheelchair.

Gatto rushed after Jaxx and moved around Megan, grabbing the back of Jaxx’s shirt. “Excuse me, sir.”

Another soldier walked by, watching the situation with a curious eye. He turned, walking backwards, making sure everything was okay.

Gatto pulled on Jaxx even more. “Someone, let Master Sergeant Segarra know that his daughter has left the conference room.”

Jaxx twisted, squeezed the man’s arm, and threw him over his shoulder. Gatto landed with a thud. Jaxx held on to the man’s arm and pressed his knee on the young grunt’s chest. He bent down, quickly unholstered Gatto’s sidearm and aimed it at the other guard, though keeping his eyes hellbent on Gatto. “Move on,” Jaxx ordered the other Marine. “I can do things to you that you don’t want to experience.”

Footsteps were coming from around the corner.

“Gatto here wants to survive,” said Jaxx. “If you want to aid in his survival, then please step in front of us and lead us outside the library. Do you understand?”

“Don’t do it,” said a breathy Gatto. Jaxx pressed his knee harder into his chest. “Okay, okay.”

Jaxx let up.

The other soldier did as told, mumbling, “You aren’t going to get far.”

The footsteps came closer and a trio of men in fatigues raced by them, heading to who-knows-where.

“Go,” whispered Jaxx loudly.

The men walked forward, leading Jaxx, Megan, Drew, and the children to the main entrance.

Jaxx grinned. “Thank you, gentlemen.” He opened the door, letting the children exit first and then Megan, wheeling Drew along for the ride.

Jaxx kept his eyes on the men, making sure they didn’t bolt in order to squeal to Segarra…just yet. “Okay, you may go and tattle on us now.” He wiggled his fingers. “Go, go. Scat.” He let the door shut behind him and followed his group down the ramp, the fresh air swirling around his skin.

A dozen transports, futuristic helicopters, and starfighters were parked out front.

None were occupied.

As Jaxx knew all too well, nothing was ever this easy.

25

Denver, Colorado

Jaxx entered a large Marine air transport — wings folded back, ion boosters above and below the tail, wide cabin, and a ramp at the rear. He rushed to the cockpit as the rest of his rag-tag group headed up the transport’s ramp. The Marines would be on them in a matter of minutes, if not sooner.

“Hey,” yelled a Marine from the top of the library stairs near the entrance. “You are not autho—”

Jaxx slammed his fist on the open and close ramp button. It closed shut, cutting the Marine off in mid-sentence.

Megan wheeled Drew next to a seat, locked his wheels, and sat by his side. Even though Megan didn’t volunteer to be Drew’s caretaker at the end of his life, Jaxx thought she was doing an outstanding job, especially under these horrific circumstances.

The kids sat and buckled in. Mya gave a thumbs up and Jaxx couldn’t help but smile, giving her a thumbs up as well.

He switched on the engines. The transport purred as the ion drives woke up, humming inside the cabin and cockpit. He checked his gauges. All looked fine and dandy, but he also didn’t have several minutes to check if everything was perfect.

They had to get out of here as fast as they could.

“Here we go.” He lifted the craft into the air, changed the craft’s thruster feed, and shot forward. “We have maybe a minute or two before the Agadon enter Denver locality.”

“Will we get out of Denver in time?” asked Megan.

“No idea.” Jaxx gunned the craft, the city zipping by as if it was being pulled by a train and in the opposite direction as Jaxx.

The com line blared. “God dammit, Jaxx.” It was Segarra. “You have stolen my daughter and our air vessel. Turn around and we’ll be kind to you. Don’t, and we’ll shoot you down.”

“Your daughter is on board, sir,” responded Jaxx.

Segarra’s irate bluff was a shitty-ass one.

There was a pause. “True. What you are doing Jaxx is putting my daughter and those children in danger. The Agadon will arrive any moment now and you leave us defenseless. I will be filing Article 15, UCMJ and corrective action will be administered to you by a court of law when you get back.”

There was no court of law at the moment and right now, screw Segarra. He switched the com line off.

Mya sat more forward in her seat. “Was that Daddy?”

Jaxx nodded. “He was a little mad.”

Mya smiled and threw her hand in the air. “He gets like that sometimes.”

“Will your dad and the Marines be okay, Mya?” asked Jaxx. It was a legitimate question, because leaving the base was killing Jaxx more than he showed. He wanted to help out his fellow troops.

Yet, he had his own demons chasing him. He wanted his last living relative to survive. He wanted to end this Agadon misery for good. He wanted peace, plain and simple.

He veered the craft to the right, punching his destination into the holographic console. On the map, a line drew from Denver to Machu Picchu, then blinked at the destination, and faded away. The coordinates had been locked, and they were on their way.

Lightning splashed across the sky and thunder roared. The transport shuddered and dipped just as dark clouds moved across the firmament. The Agadon were back.

A large ship, more like a star cruiser, burst through the clouds. Thousands of small starfighters surrounded it, heading right for the library.

A growl-sound slashed across the sky and two more star cruisers, also with smaller vessels, frigates, and starfighters ripped through the heavens.

Jaxx swallowed. This was as bad as it got.

One, the base — the library and museum that was housing the Marines and their defense — were screwed. There was no way they’d be able to defend against such a large fleet.

Two, Jaxx’s transport was directly between the base and the coming armada. He’d have to create a flight plan around it. But, from the last time he did something similar, it didn’t work out to his advantage.

He brought up the map and keyed in a new flight path. He locked it in.

“Megan,” said Jaxx. “Take over the controls.”

Megan’s mouth gaped open. “No can do, Jaxx. I’ve only flown small engine aircraft, and that was years ago and with my father. He did most of the work.”

“It’s on autopilot, steering us to the key pyramid. You won’t have to do anything but look at the engine battery charges and make sure the shields are up and constant,” Jaxx replied, finishing under his breath, “What little shields this ship has.”

Megan put her hands on her knees, pushing up. “Why?” She stared at the incoming enemy. “I can’t do shit against them.” Her eyes darted from Jaxx to the armada and back to Jaxx again. “We’re sure as shit dead, aren’t we?”

“Not if I can help it.” He walked over to Megan and snapped his fingers at the cockpit seat, gesturing for her to take her helm at the wheel.

Megan inhaled sharply. “I’ll do my best.” She took a glance at Drew and exhaled. “We’ll need a miracle.”

“That’s precisely what I have in mind.” He walked over to the children and crouched. “Kids. I have an idea.”

26

Denver, Colorado

“We’re heading toward an entire fleet of Agadon. As you know, they mean us harm.” Jaxx looked deeply in each of the children’s eyes. His words didn’t faze them. The Agadon may want Jaxx alive, but they sure as shit wanted Jaxx’s helpers dead. The way things had been going, the Agadon would blow this craft out of the sky, knowing Jaxx would somehow survive whatever they threw at him, but also figuring they’d end everything and anything else inside this transport.

Mya blinked and both Lily and Damion turned their heads in her direction, waiting for her to speak. “We know and we also know you’re scared, Jaxx. We can feel it.”

“What I want us to do is hold hands, close our eyes, and concentrate. We’ll shut down as many Agadon brains and bodies as we can, making them and their ships fall out of the sky.” He felt his blood starting to rush, his heart pounding faster, and his Chi rising.

Mya shook her head. “It shortens our life when we do that. It also wouldn’t work on so many of those flying things out there.” She pointed at the cockpit window.

Jaxx turned. The Agadon were coming closer at a quicker pace. He had steered his craft away from the incoming fleet, but a portion of that fleet had broken off, heading his way.

Damion touched Jaxx’s arm. “Only a little bit of them are coming in our direction. We can take on that small amount, right Mya?”

Mya shook her head again. “But it hurts them and will hurt us a lot.”

“We’ll turn them off and they’ll turn back on someplace else,” said Jaxx, speaking in a matter of fact tone, as if he knew 100% for sure that’s what the Agadon did. Their bodies died, but their A/I consciousness seeks out another unused Agadon body someplace else.

Mya nodded. She closed her eyes, concentrating. “I’m not permitted.”

Jaxx slapped his chest. “But I am.” Jaxx had no idea who permitted what and why, but Mya said she wasn’t permitted and that was that. So, he’d permit himself. “All I’ll need is your help.”

Mya put her hands out. “Touch my hands, Jaxx, but not Lily’s or Damion’s.”

Jaxx put out his hands and closed his eyes, his chin coming down to his chest. A sensation vibrated through his spinal cord and seeped into his spinal fluid. In his mind’s eye, he could see latent DNA open, sending electric signals from one nerve synapse to another, and on and on, like a domino effect; synapses connected, latent DNA opened.

His body straightened and his Chi vibrated inside him like a giddy race horse ready to spring from the starting gates.

He cringed, his back arching like someone had thrown a harpoon through his back and pulled. He pushed out his breath with a ferocious force, and yelled loudly.

A pulse blasted through him. The ship shuddered and bounced with turbulence, and the inside dome lights blinked on and off.

He ricocheted into the back of a seat and collapsed face first onto the floor. His was hotter than hot and sweat dripped from every pore, soaking his jump suit.

He opened his eyes, seeing nothing but blur. He heard voices call his name, clapping their hands, and snapping their fingers to get his attention.

He was weak and his breath came slowly. “Did…it work?”

An echo filled his mind. “Yes.”

“Who said…that?”

No response.

Every movement, including his own, rushed at him like pictures in a slide show.

A soft touch, and another, rested on his skin. He could tell it came from the children.

His body strengthened and his vision normalized. He blinked, pushing himself into a seated position.

Megan snapped her finger over Jaxx’s ear. “Are you back?”

Why wasn’t she piloting the craft?

Jaxx remembered. It was on autopilot. Good, his mind was coming back around. Jaxx nodded at Megan’s question and swallowed, his mouth and throat dryer than a dessert. “Any water?”

They looked around.

“Sorry, Jaxx. No water,” responded Megan, crouched by Jaxx’s side.

“What were the results?” asked Jaxx, moving his toes and fingers around to gather his bearings.

Lily walked over to the cockpit and stood between the pilot’s and co-pilot’s chairs. She viewed the scene in the sky outside.

Jaxx grabbed onto a seat to help him into a standing position, grunting the entire way up. Damn, he was dizzy. He held onto cabin chair after cabin chair as he made his way over to Lily, doing his best not to fall over. He leaned on the pilot’s seat and looked out the window. His jaw slackened.

“Holy shit,” he said, plopping down on the pilot’s chair, rubbing the back of his neck.

In front of him and below were a myriad of starfighters plummeting to their death. Explosions filled the outskirts of Denver, and fire ravaged across the yellow and green land. Trees were ablaze and the yellow grass might as well have been doused with gasoline by how quickly it was turning into an inferno.

“It worked,” he mumbled.

At least a quarter of the Agadon fleet was decimated, and the portion that had been headed toward them was gone as if deleted from reality.

Out of the corner of Jaxx’s eye, a projectile shot across the sky and into the distance, heading right for one of the large star carriers leading the charge. It ignited twenty or so yards in front of the ship’s massive bow, hitting the craft’s front shields, and an electric charge spread from the impact, sending out streaks of lightning.

It died down, then another missile struck and another.

“What’s happening?” Jaxx moved his transport ship farther from the Agadon fleet, doing his best to sneak away, and brought up his starboard camera view, watching the scene unfold on his holodisplay.

Marine fighters, jets, and helicopters were in full force, flying toward the incoming Agadon fleet. The war was back on and it was going to be messy.

In tandem, the Marines let loose, sending a shitload of projectiles and energy weapons toward the enemy. The sky lit up red when they hit, some penetrating through the shields, others hitting enemy starfighters, ending them before they could get a shot off.

Jaxx’s stunt not only worked, it distracted the Agadon long enough for the Marines to assemble and kick ass.

A firework display filled the sky and Jaxx banked his craft more, putting distance between him and the fight.

The cockpit beeped. Not good. He glanced down, eyeing the radar. Several Agadon starfighters had broken off their fleet’s formation and were headed his way.

He made a fist and pounded his armchair. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Lily back with Mya and Damion, watching through the cockpit window with curiosity. And Megan was next to an unconscious and dying Drew, wiping the drool off his face.

Jaxx spoke through gritted teeth, more pissed off than ever. Can’t anything be easy? “Strap in, everyone. We’re not out of this yet.”

27

Lakewood, Colorado

Drew opened his eyes, feeling someone touching his chin. Or, were they wiping something off of him?

It was a familiar touch, one that he liked a little too much. It was Megan. He lifted his head. “I…wuv…wu.” A pang pierced his heart and adrenaline pounded through him, waking him up more. He opened his eyes wider. “Wait, what did I say?”

Megan leaned over. “Get ready for more bumps, Drew.” She patted the back of his hand.

He glanced around, his stomach not as painful as it was before. Was he in a ship? The kids were behind him and a bit to his left. They were strapped in, glaring out the cockpit window as if it was a movie playing before them.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

The ship shook back and forth, and went into a wide, hard turn. Drew grabbed Megan’s armrest so he wouldn’t flip on his side with the wheelchair toppling on top of him.

“I’m sending all gravitons to the port side shields. We have incoming ion cannon fire. Brace!” yelled Jaxx.

The craft bucked and twisted as a barrage of blasts knocked against the shields.

Drew squeezed the armrest tighter, his knuckles whitening.

God, why did I have to wake up for this?

“Stop your bellyaching, Drew.”

Was that his mom? He heard laughter. It was definitely his mom, cracking up at her own lame bellyaching joke. At least his stomach wasn’t aching like it was earlier, so it wasn’t that funny, mom.

He glanced around as Jaxx put them in a tighter turn and into a fast descent, pressing this craft to its limits.

“Drew,” it was his mom again. “You’re coming closer and closer to me. Are you ready to let go of your life or do you wish to continue your journey on Earth?”

He jerked back when he saw his mom on the floor, sitting with her legs crossed and staring up at him. The craft rose. “What do you mean, mom?”

She looked at him intensely, yet there was compassion in her eyes. “You’re dying, Drew. You don’t have much more time in this physical plane. Understand that when you pass over, I will be here for you.”

She blinked out and Drew’s heart palpated. He knew he was dying. He just wanted it to come now to get it over with.

“Drew,” came Megan. “We’re heading to Machu Picchu.”

“Wha…where?” questioned Drew.

“There is a pyramid under Machu Picchu that will help you heal.” There wasn’t much confidence in her voice.

Drew snorted. “Yeah, right.” A pyramid couldn’t heal his body, no matter how many theorems Jaxx threw at him. It was a building. The only building that could heal him was one full of doctors and Drew had suddenly become a doctor’s worst nightmare. He’d ask for help. They’d die. It was as simple as that. It shouldn’t have been, but it was. At least the corpsman was able to get the bullet out of him, but it didn’t extend his life but for five minutes, he guessed.

“Sending gravitons to aft shields,” said Jaxx. “They are tailing us and closing in.” There was nervousness in Jaxx’s voice. “Hold on a second. What are they doing?”

“What do you mean, Jaxx?” inquired Megan, leaning forward, her eyes glued to the cockpit window.

“They are slowing down. Why…” Jaxx spun around in his seat. “Lily?”

Drew did his best to turn, catching Lily out of the corner of his eyes. She was unstrapped and touching the ramp, her palms against the flat metal.

“Keep going, Jaxx.” Lily’s knees became weak and she lost her balance, falling to the floor. She managed to keep her hands on the ramp, even though she was now lying on her side.

“We’re losing them, and fast,” replied Jaxx. “It’s almost like they are stopped and hovering in mid-air. Did you do that, Lily?”

She nodded her head, her eyes closing. “Yes.”

Jaxx probably knew it would cost her vital energy, just as Drew did as well. She was making a great sacrifice for them all.

“Thank you,” said Jaxx, turning back around, steering the ship on another wide turn, diving the craft toward the Colorado terrain.

Drew leaned forward from the descent, scrunching his stomach up against his thighs. A rush of pain spread up his chest and around his lower back. “Ease up, Jaxx. You’re killing me here. And I mean that literally.”

Jaxx eased up on the control stick and brought the craft level. “Sorry, Drew. I was putting even more distance between us and the Agadon.”

“How does it look back there?” questioned Megan.

“If you’re talking about Denver?” Jaxx shook his head, his eyes falling away and to the co-pilot’s chair. “Not so good.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Drew’s face reddened. These people needed to understand how much in the way he was to them, to everyone. They probably could have been to Machu Picchu and back by now if it wasn’t for him. “Why didn’t you leave me? I guarantee you would have been much better off and could have left sooner to this Machu Picchu place had you not been rolling me around this entire time.”

Mya touched the back of his shoulder. “Because you’re important.” She leaned over, pressing both hands on his belly. A warm sensation filled him like hot cocoa on a cold, snowy day. His pain diminished. She took her hands off and stepped back. “You’ll be meeting them soon.”

Drew glanced at Megan and then back at Mya, wanting an explanation. “Meeting who?”

“The Blue Avions. They are assisting us on a higher level than we can see,” responded Mya. “They will be here shortly.”

Drew tapped his wheelchair. “They’ll be here? On this ship?” What the hell is she talking about?

“No.” She sat back in her seat, as if she said too much.

Drew gave her a double take, thrusting out his palms. “What are you saying?”

“I said too much,” she looked at her hands in her lap. “They aren’t sure you’re going to survive.”

“The Blue Avion aren’t sure?” asked Drew. The ship bucked and Drew whipped his head around toward Jaxx, wanting to know the status.

Megan gripped his arm.

Jaxx laughed. “You see that? We’re past supersonic speed right now.”

Drew took his eyes to the window. The clouds were whipping by. He couldn’t tell exactly how fast they were traveling, but hell, they were moving fast.

“We’ll be in Machu Picchu soon. We’re almost crossing the Mexican-Texas border right now.”

“This soon?” stated Megan, her voice high, shocked.

“And —” Jaxx tightened, his shoulders almost rose to his ears. “That dagnabbin piece of shit.”

“What?” asked Megan.

“My old friend, Taz, the immortal asshole, is back. I can tell by the way he is flying the craft tailing us.” Jaxx let out a loud breath. “Lily, see if you can slow that one down, too, will you?”

No reply.

“Lily?”

Drew followed Jaxx’s eyes, glancing back at the rear of the craft. Lily was on the ground, unconscious.

28

Del Rio, Texas

Jaxx exhaled loudly, his mind still spinning from sending out his energy and short circuiting a portion of the Agadon fleet. He was weak, but not as weak as Lily.

Jaxx unstrapped and rushed to the back of the craft. Lily was listless. He put his hands on her. “Mya, Damion. I need your help.”

They unclipped and rushed to Lily’s side.

Damion’s eyebrows squished closer together and his nose scrunched up. “You’re in the way, old man. Now, move aside.”

Jaxx backed up, glancing at the cockpit, wondering how much closer Taz was gaining to them. No beeps or buzzes blaring into the cabin told Jaxx that Taz wasn’t in weapon’s range just yet.

“Megan, can you monitor the controls?” questioned Jaxx.

“Sure,” she rubbed Drew’s back and headed to the front of the ship, plopping down on the pilot’s chair.

“She’s cold,” frowned Mya, placing her hands on Lily’s feet. “We’ll need you, Jaxx.”

“For what?” He wasn’t a healer like these two kids were.

“Get on your knees and put your hands on Lily. Then bring in all the Chi you can muster, concentrating on healing her body. She’s weak. She just needs energy.”

Jaxx dipped his head, wondering how this would work since he was weak himself. “Okay, I think I can do that.”

“We know you can, numb nutz,” replied Damion, shaking his head. “Stop stalling.”

“Right.” Jaxx put his hands on Lily’s arms and brought as much Chi into his body as he could muster and concentrated. He formed an energetic ball in his core, imagining bright light coming in from above and through his head, growing the ball even more. He then brought it up to his arms and down to his hands.

He took in a deep breath and exhaled, sending Lily as much energy as he could.

Lily stirred.

“Keep going, Jaxx,” said Mya, smiling from ear to ear. “Do you understand what Chi is really meant for yet?”

Jaxx gave her a look. Yeah, it was to kick ass and take names, but he knew that’s not what she was thinking. Chi was a healing power, something that Abdu, his now dead Leonian friend, had told him on a few occasions.

He had explained to Jaxx that Chi wasn’t just a powerful force in the Universe to use as a defensive technique against evil, angry sons of bitches ready to take his life. On the other hand, it was a healing energy — if you knew how to use it correctly, and by correctly, using it for the benefit of yourself and others.

Jaxx, however, mostly knew Chi’s defensive purposes, and the Taz character following them only used it as an offensive weapon. He couldn’t wait until it bit Taz in the butt, hopefully.

Mya nodded, as if reading Jaxx’s thoughts. She spoke, giving Jaxx a wink, reminding Jaxx of Slade, though thankfully, Mya didn’t have the negative vibes like Slade. “People don’t understand that if you live by the sword, you die by the sword. That could be said for other things as well. And with Chi, if you use it to purposely harm another Being, you’ll eventually be harmed as well.” She tapped her temple. “Keep that in your mind, Jaxx.”

Jaxx nodded. The little girl spoke like she was ten years older than she really was. Hell, thirty years older than she really was. She wasn’t like that when he met her. It was as if she was growing up right before his eyes. Her mind was rapidly evolving.

Lily yawned and she twisted onto her stomach. She pushed off the ground and to her knees, yawning again. “What happened?”

“You used too much of your energy,” said Damion. “Next time, have one of us help you, okay?”

A beep sounded across the cockpit to the cabin. “Uh, problem,” hollered Megan.

“Buckle yourselves up, kids,” ordered Jaxx. “More bumps are coming our way.”

He hurried past Drew, laying his hand on his nephew’s shoulder as he hustled by. “Are you okay?” he shouted over his shoulder.

Drew’s eyes were fading. He lifted his head and smiled, holding up a thumb. “Don’t worry about me, captain. Fly us to safety.”

Jaxx feigned a smile back to him. “I love you, man.” He’d only spoken those words a few times in his life to Drew, and that was when Drew was five or ten years old. He couldn’t remember.

Drew perked up. “Love you, too.” He closed his eyes, moving from consciousness back to sleep.

Jaxx bit his lower lip, needing to get at the biggest problem at hand — Taz. He entered the cockpit. “He’s gaining on us?”

Megan got up from the seat and gestured for Jaxx to take it. “I think he will be able to target us soon.”

Jaxx’s eyes went wide. “Nope, not soon. Now.” He sat down hard. “Hold on.”

Jaxx couldn’t wait. He had to evade. He pushed the control stick to the side, banking his craft just as an ion cannon blast flew past their port side.

Megan tumbled head over heels, slamming into the starboard wall. Another clunk and Jaxx knew Drew had taken a spill as well.

“Get into your seat quickly,” Jaxx yelled, pulling back on his control stick. Megan slid toward the back of the craft, along with Drew and the wheelchair.

“Shit,” complained Megan, her eyes wide, her breath coming quickly. “Sorry. I’ll get this…”

Jaxx took a fast look over his shoulder. Megan was crawling toward Drew and the kids were strapped in.

“Anti-gravs, anti-gravs.” He searched for the button, any button, that would ease up the G-forces he was about to put everyone through. The last thing he needed was conking all his passengers out while performing constant high G-force maneuvers.

Another beep and he pressed the control stick forward, praying like hell that Megan was back in her seat with Drew by her side, in his chair and safe.

The wheelchair pounded against the co-pilot chair. Jaxx clenched his jaw and made a fist. He wanted to end Taz, but in this craft, it wasn’t going to happen.

Words flashed across his holodisplay: ENABLE ANTI-GRAVITY FUNCTION.

He tapped the holoscreen and the pressure inside the craft eased up, allowing him a nice deep breath of air. The ride would be less strenuous, but Taz on his ass wouldn’t bring down the stress much more.

He leveled out the craft, seeing Taz was out of weapon’s lock, and grabbed onto the wheelchair’s arm rest, worry in his voice. “You okay back there?”

“As best we can be,” muttered Megan, pulling Drew onto cabin seat and strapping him in. She hopped over a seat’s back rest and sat down, promptly clipping herself in as well. “Got it.”

Jaxx checked the location on the console display. “We’re over Mexico City.” He swallowed. “Holy hell, that was fast.” He checked his display. He was far ahead of Taz.

He slammed his foot on the cockpit floor, accidentally using it as a brake where there was none. Up ahead was a vast horizon of Agadon ships. Smoke billowed up from the city below, the Agadon fleet making mincemeat out of the Mexicans below.

He wanted to help, but one man against an entire armada wasn’t going to get him anywhere, especially in a craft that didn’t have any weapons and one being chased by an Agadon.

He veered west, heading toward the Pacific Ocean, doing his best to duck out of sight.

He moved the throttle forward, taking the craft faster. “Are you all okay back there?”

“Yeah,” said the kids simultaneously.

A loud beep sounded.

He checked the holodisplay and his gut fell, then twisted in knots, and came straight back into his abdomen. He pounded the console, shaking his head in dismay. “Part of the fleet broke off and are heading our way.”

There was no way they could make it now. He was still a little frail from his last successful attempt at downing a shitload of Agadon ships with his powers, and doing so now would put him completely out of commission.

He banked his ship to the south, heading for Peru.

“Jaxx?” said a metallic voice over the com line.

“Taz?” Jaxx responded.

“Yep, your best buddy, Taz. I finally found your radio frequency.”

Jaxx moved the throttle, checking the engine’s heat gauge. It was overheating, yet it was putting distance between him and the other ships.

“What is it, Taz?”

“I’ll call the starfighters off if you land. You and I can go at it mono e mono.”

One, how did Taz know that term. Two, he was putting quite the distance between him and everyone else, so how would this be a benefit to Jaxx?

“No can do, Taz.”

Taz laughed. “So be it.”

In a span of a couple of seconds, the ships he thought he was outrunning, suddenly sped up, including Taz. They’d be on his ass in a matter of minutes.

29

Isla Santa Cruz, Puerto Ayora

Jaxx flew over the island of Peurto Ayora, according to the Agadon on board navigation system. He’d never heard of that island before and from the blur that it was, he couldn’t tell if it was inhabited or not.

“Okay, fine. Agreed,” yelled Jaxx. “Mono e mono.”

Megan leaned forward. “Don’t, Jaxx.”

Taz came over the line again. “Excellent. I’ve let my pilots know to fall back.”

Jaxx checked his radar. Taz was good on his word and the rest of the starfighters, minus Taz’s own ship, had turned around, most likely heading back to Mexico City.

Mya huffed. “Jaxx can take him.”

“We’ll land in Peru, Taz.” Jaxx slowed his craft, the heat sensors moving from the red into the yellow.

“Why are you going to this Peru place, anyway, Jaxx?” asked Taz.

Jaxx bit his lip. How should he answer this question? Tell him that he was going to a pyramid that would suck Taz’s entire race into a twirling vortex, no matter where they were on the planet, and send them back from where they came?

Or, should he lie…again? He hated lying. A lie was always caught soon enough.

“To get my friends away from any more harm.”

“That’s not why, Jaxx. You know it. I can see it in your brain activity?”

Jaxx touched his hair, feeling his skull underneath. “The hell you can. We’re trying to get away from you guys, but you assholes won’t leave us alone.”

He steered the transport over land, reaching Talara, Peru. A long beach lined by tall buildings and surrounded by greenery came into view.

“Jaxx, Jaxx, Jaxx. My friend. I am not just a biological entity that can see the world outside of me and you, I can also see what’s inside of you, such as your brain waves, patterns, and nuances.” He chuckled. “I can scan your brain, which I’m doing constantly while I’m tracking you and following you during this flight. I don’t have the psychic abilities to read minds like a few of your passengers, but I do have the ability to use the power that you use and effectively, and in so doing, I can see what your brain is doing right now.”

Jaxx punched in Machu Picchu on the global positioning system built into the console, making sure he was on the correct trajectory.

Yes. His map blipped on and the Cusco Region, Urubamba Province, Machu Picchu District pulled up. It was northwest of Cuzco.

“You’re ignoring me, Jaxx,” came Taz. “I know you can hear me. To imbue my point more thoroughly and logically, I can detect three areas of your brain becoming more active during deception: the anterior cingulated cortex, the dorsal lateral prefrontal cortex, and the parietal cortex. The anterior cingulated cortex is in charge of monitoring errors. The dorsal lateral prefrontal cortex controls behavior. The parietal cortex processes sensory input.” He paused for a moment, then continued. “When those portions are in the red, you’re lying.”

Jaxx intuited this as truth, but he remained quiet. The closer he came to his destination, the better.

They were now over the Andes Mountains in Pangoa, Peru.

“You’re not responding. That leaves me with nothing else to do but disintegrate you in the sky,” growled Taz. “Bye, Jaxx. I tried to keep you alive.”

Jaxx switched off the com line, his hands gripping the control stick like it was trying to run away. He knew Taz was bluffing, but it wouldn’t stop Taz from shooting him down to slow him down. A drop of perspiration rolled down his temple. “Everyone, brace.”

Taz was closer and easily in range to throw whatever weapon he wanted at Jaxx. And Taz threw them all.

Every siren, beep, and whistle went off in the cockpit and Jaxx put his craft into a dive, seeing Peru’s greenery rush up to him like a volcano bulging and ready to spew.

Kackaroom!

His ship shook like an 8.0 earthquake and sparks lit up the ship’s rear ramp, blowing a hole about five feet in diameter.

The wind came rushing in, drowning out all sound. Jaxx’s hair and clothes whipped back and forth. His heart wept, knowing some of his passengers, if not all, probably didn’t make it. Yet, he didn’t have time to check for survivors as he was heading in for a crash landing, whether Jaxx liked it or not.

He quickly glanced at the altimeter, doing his best to keep the craft from spinning out of control. He bared down, narrowing his eyes. He had to concentrate, no matter what.

Thirteen-hundred feet.

He reduced the throttle, hearing another bang blast inside the cabin. Another direct hit. Taz was barreling faster toward them.

He reduced the throttle, easing the thrust to his ion engines, and lifted the nose up three degrees, not enough to lift him higher in the air, but enough to slow this flying machine down.

A roar rumbled through the ship and he caught a glimpse of Taz’s craft flying on by. Taz bucked back around, turning on a dime, most likely wanting to end this hunt once and for all with a few well targeted shots.

Six-hundred and thirty-one feet to impact.

Jaxx had to get to the ground faster.

He armed the spoilers on the wings, reducing air speed and descent. He dropped the skids from the belly, using it to increase the craft’s drag to decrease speed even more, and to drop the craft lower.

Two-hundred and eleven feet from the ground.

The crack and pops of treetops slamming into the nose and wings reverberated through the ship. Jaxx bounced up and down, doing his best to steer this thing away from any jagged rocks that may show themselves.

Whackoosh!

Before he knew it, he hit a thin river, water splashing up in all directions. His craft continued to move, sliding across the rocks and small trees and bushes on the shoreline, until the river deepened and drug him to a halt. He jerked forward, then fell back into his seat, his restraints pulling hard.

He glanced up, seeing that his ship was floating in a wide river bowl. A waterfall twenty or so yards was in front of him, plummeting into the big drink.

He took a deep breath, blinking his eyes, trying to calm his inner thoughts — the worst of which was telling him to turn and check out his crew. He didn’t want to.

He unstrapped and stood. He turned around, observing the cabin.

His mouth gaped open.

30

Andes Mountains, Peru

Mya, Lily, and Damion, were sitting cross-legged on their seats, their eyes closed, and their hands on their knees.

Drew was slumped in his seat and Megan’s eyes told a thousand stories, but mostly asked the question, “How did we survive?”

Jaxx was asking himself the same thing.

But everyone was holy-shit alive.

Impossible.

Mya opened her eyes, and the rest of the children followed suit. “We made it.” She smiled.

“What did you do?” asked Jaxx.

“Something you should have done,” replied Damion. “We put a prayer of protection around the ship. And we imagined a ball of light surrounding all of us and keeping us safe.”

“It worked,” said Jaxx.

“We think,” replied Mya. “Or we were lucky.”

A rumble penetrated the sky. Taz was circling around.

Jaxx hurried to the cockpit, turning off all engines and cutting power. It would hide their heat signature, but who was he fooling? A line of downed trees and a big ship resting in the middle of a river wouldn’t be hard to spot.

“We gotta go.” Jaxx spotted Drew’s wheelchair. It was resting on its side. It didn’t look good. He flipped it over and all hope of keeping Drew safe escaped his body. Its wheel rim was completely warped. It was inoperable.

Megan leaned back in her seat, letting out a big sigh. “Of course.”

“I can carry him,” said Jaxx.

“How far do we have to go?” inquired Megan.

Jaxx pointed to the south. “I’ve conducted plenty of field research at Machu Picchu. We’re not far, but the trek is still long, windy, and steep.”

Taz’s starfighter boomed. Strangely, it sounded like it was flying away from them.

Mya stood, peering out of the hole in the ramp, eyeing the water. “I don’t know how to swim.”

“I’ll stay with Drew,” said Megan, resting her palm on his cheek.

“What do you mean? I’m going to carry him,” replied Jaxx.

Megan pulled Drew into a more seated position. “Look at him. He doesn’t have more than an hour.”

Mya nodded. “She’s right. He’s going to be moving to the next transition in life soon.”

Jaxx bent down, studying his nephew’s face. “Let’s all heal him again. It’ll give him more time and we’ll see if the key pyramid can do some magic on him.” He unstrapped Drew and pulled him into his arms. Their cheeks touched. Drew was damp and cold, his breath as shallow as ever. His face was pale and his lips were blue.

Drew was holding on by a thread.

Mya touched Jaxx’s leg. “Let him go, Jaxx.”

“But what about the ruling? You said he was going to rule over something?”

Mya’s lower lip protruded, her eyes tearing up. “That will have to be someone else. Leave him here. He will be happy to die by Megan’s side.”

Jaxx frowned. “No, we have to go and now. We can save my nephew. I won’t have any problem carrying him. I’ll use my Chi and —”

The ship began to rattle. Taz’s craft was coming around again, this time closer. Was he coming in for a landing? From the sound of Taz’s starfighter’s engines easing up and the hover boosters active, the craft had to be landing.

“We have to go now, sir,” chimed Damion.

“Wait,” Jaxx shifted his eyes to Megan. “You stay here and Taz will kill you and Drew. None of you can stay…not even Drew.”

Taz’s craft’s roar became louder and the water rocked the ship back and forth.

Jaxx’s eyes narrowed, his breath coming faster than he would have liked. He’d not panicked like this since his first battle in a starfighter. He’d do anything to keep his nephew alive. “Hold on.”

He paced to the ramp and peeked out of the blown-out hole. Taz’s ship was lowering below the jungle’s canopy and away from the river.

“What’s he doing?” Jaxx said through gritted teeth.

“He wants to end us and take you,” said Damion. He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s fuck him up.”

Jaxx shot a look at Damion. A little kid shouldn’t be saying those kind of words. He went to say something, then dropped his shoulders. It didn’t matter. Instead, he pressed the open ramp button at the back of the transport. Nothing happened. “Flick on the power,” Jaxx said.

“How?” asked Megan.

“Got it,” said Lily.

The power came on and the ramp began to lower.

How did she know what button to press?

Again, it didn’t matter. These kids baffled him more than his own powers.

A splash and the ramp met the water. Jaxx strode to the end of the ramp and looked out. The water was calm and the ramp was close enough to the shore that he’d only need to make a leap to get to the beach safe and dry.

Leaves rustled and branches broke in the distance. Taz was coming.

Jaxx turned around and surveyed the walls lining the craft. When he saw a rifle attached to a rack, he hurried to it and unclipped it.

“Here.” He handed it to Megan. “Anything goes awry, you know what to do.”

“No, you use it.”

Jaxx walked toward the ramp. “I won’t need it.” At the end of the ramp, he watched the treeline. A moment later, Taz stepped out of the jungle, pushing aside a large fern.

Jaxx grinned, impressed by how relentless Taz was. “You found me.” Jaxx put his hands out. “What are you going to do?”

Taz made a line in the dirt with his foot. “You step over this line and your friends survive.” His upper back cannon lifted up and positioned above Taz’s shoulder. It rotated and aimed at the ship.

“Hold it.” Jaxx gestured for Taz to halt. “Don’t do anything. I’m going to go over to the shoreline.”

Taz nodded and Jaxx jumped onto the rocky shore.

Taz watched Jaxx like a hawk. “If you don’t step over this line, I’ll poke your ship so full of holes, that no one in that craft will survive.” He smirked. “But, truly Jaxx, how can I trust you any more?”

Jaxx took cautious step after cautious step, studying Taz the entire time. “It’s hard for me to give my word to a race that is hellbent on killing my own race. And to a race that doesn’t keep their word to me as well. It’s a give and take thing, and you keep taking without offering anything back but bloodshed.”

“Fair enough.”

Jaxx stopped in front of Taz, the toes of his boots nearly touching the line that Taz drew on the ground.

“Take that step, Jaxx, and like I said, your friends will live to breath another day.”

Jaxx had another idea. He reached forward, his Chi activating quick as a flash, and grasped the cannon above Taz’s shoulder. He twisted his hand, popping the cannon off of the metal shaft that extended from Taz’s upper back. A flame burst outward and Jaxx tossed the cannon over his head, hearing it plop into the water.

Taz dropped to his knees, reaching back at the now missing cannon, purple and blue sparks igniting from the shaft. “Why…did you…” He shook his head. “Humans.” He pressed off the ground with his feet, his muscular legs flexing, and lunged into Jaxx’s stomach.

Jaxx lifted off the ground and brought his fists together, slamming them into Taz’s back just as he landed hard against the earth.

Jaxx brought his knees up and extended his legs, pushing Taz up and over him, kicking him farther down the shoreline.

Taz landed on his backside and tumbled a few times. He slowly pushed off the ground and stood, his face full of fury.

Jaxx stood as well, wiping dirt and dust off his hands, creating a small puff that faded away. “Don’t even try it, Taz. No more fighting. Just leave us be.”

Taz heaved a big breath, his chest expanding. “No.”

Jaxx tipped his head to the side toward his craft, asking the obvious question. “Why didn’t you just finish us while we were sitting ducks in that river?”

Taz laughed, acting as if that was the dumbest question ever posed to an Agadon. “Then I would have killed you.”

“You said you were going to kill me not too long ago…if I recall correctly.” Jaxx figured he was bluffing, and not to his surprise, he was right.

“I’m learning all about this lying thing you humans do. It’s quite easy.” He put his hands on his hips. “You should know by now that I’m not giving up on you or giving up on controlling the entire pyramid nexus. It’s the best way to do what we do.”

“Yes, power and control. Then you’ll just have to kill me. I’m not letting you use me to control the network.” The Agadon were ruthless genocidal maniacs. And they were too damn good at it for Jaxx to let the Agadon terrorize and eventually destroy all Beings in the rest of the galaxy.

Taz closed his eyes for a brief second, shaking his head. “No, that’s not how it goes.” Taz put his hands up, then curled his fingers in a fist. “I’ll just knock you out and take you to my mother ship. Okay?”

“Not okay.” Jaxx bent down, picking up a handful of dirt.

“What are you doing?” Taz took a step back, curiosity in his eyes.

“I’m an archaeologist. I’m checking the dirt for fossil samples.” He hoped this trick hadn’t been played on an Agadon before.

“You lie.”

“Yep.” Jaxx flung the dirt into Taz’s eyes.

Taz brought his hands to his face.

Jaxx spun in the air, bringing a hefty kick to Taz’s head, smacking his heel onto Taz’s temple.

A loud crack and a thin spray of sparks shot out of Taz’s head and the guy fell to the ground. He spun around and thrust his arms outward, throwing energy Jaxx’s way.

Jaxx yelped. A force stronger than a boulder blasted into his chest. He toppled over and slid into the water. A cold sensation tingled down his spine. The water was like ice, the shock paralyzing him for a moment.

Looking up, Taz threw another energy wave at Jaxx. Jax spun out of the way, his body moving onto the rocky shore. He jumped to his feet.

“Good move, Jaxx.”

Taz kneed the air and an etheric sensation pressed heavily against Jaxx’s stomach. He fell and the wind was knocked out of him. He gulped, doing his best to catch his breath, but couldn’t.

A blow to the face and Jaxx twirled to the side.

“No more!” came a young voice. Jaxx spun around. It was Mya.

Taz dropped his arms by his sides. “Well, look who we have coming for the rescue? Who is she, Jaxx?”

Mya stood tall, her feet firmly on the ramp. “I’m Mya.” Her face was stern, something she no doubt learned from Damion.

Taz giggled. “What are you going to do, little girl?”

Jaxx walked into the river, trusting that this little girl indeed had a secret weapon of some sort up her sleeve. He waded over to her and extended his arms. “I’ll repeat Taz’s question. What are you going to do?” he whispered.

She didn’t respond, keeping her eyes on the Agadon. Jaxx grabbed her hand and guided her into the river, then grabbed underneath her armpits and pulled her to the shore.

“You will leave,” stated Mya. She walked from the edge of the river and stopped a few feet in front of Taz. Water ran off of her and onto the rocks. She stood tall.

Taz thrust his chest out. “I’m powerful, little one. You don’t want to fight —”

Mya put her hand on his knee. He dropped to the ground, his hands and legs shaking. She pulled her hand back and Taz relaxed, letting out a hefty exhale.

“I’m strong, too,” responded Mya. “Please get into your ship and leave.”

Taz stood. He crossed his arms, glaring down at Mya. “I don’t think so.”

“You will have to leave.”

“I don’t die, even if you kill this body. So, leaving isn’t something I’ll be doing any time soon.” Taz cocked his head to the side, pursing his lips. “You know something I don’t?”

Mya nodded. “I know a lot that you don’t know.”

“You can kill me, can’t you?”

“When your A/I consciousness ends, so will your ability to enter another Agadon’s body.”

Jaxx eyed Mya. How did she know this?

Taz glared at her, as if scanning her brain the way he scanned Jaxx’s. “She isn’t lying. She can end me in ways I don’t want to know.”

“So, you’re going to leave?” Jaxx hoped.

“Not until you tell me why you’re here,” Taz mentioned.

“To get them to safety,” responded Jaxx.

Taz stared into Jaxx’s eyes. “You’re lying.”

Mya shifted on her feet. “To fix the pyramid network on Earth by going to the key pyramid.”

Jaxx gasped, reaching out to Mya, and covering her mouth. She had just spilled the beans. Why would she let Taz know about such a thing?

“Aw,” responded Taz, moving his head slowly up and down. “I was hoping you wouldn’t locate one. This ought to change your plans.” Taz pulled a gun out of his holster. He aimed at Jaxx and pulled the trigger.

Mya pulled down on Jaxx’s arm, bending him to the side. A blue ion bolt slashed by Jaxx’s ear. In what must have been faster than the speed of sound, yet without the sonic boom, Mya dashed over to Jaxx’s other side, pulling down on his other arm.

Another blast whizzed by him.

She twirled toward Taz, and in a nano second, flipped Taz’s gun up.

Wapooh!

An ion blast skinned his chin. He twisted around, and Mya slammed her palm on the bottom of the hand grip. The weapon twirled high in the air and landed with a loud glop in the river, disappearing to the bottom.

Taz touched his bloody chin and looked at the blue liquid on his fingers. He shook his head and growled. He reeled his arm back and threw a punch at Mya. Jaxx leapt in front of her, catching Taz’s fist in his hand. He forcibly brought his other arm down on Taz’s wrist.

A loud crack and Taz’s lower arm broke, the bones cracking, flopping his wrist to the side, limp and useless.

Taz let out a loud metallic sound and leaned over, holding his arm. Jaxx swept Taz’s leg, lifting him up in the air, then brought his elbow down on Taz’s chest, helping him hit the ground at a quicker pace.

A thud.

Taz landed square on his back.

Jaxx went for a final blow and brought his arm back, his Chi ready.

Mya touched his leg and a tranquil energy consumed him, taking over every cell of his body, relaxing his muscles and his mind. He let his arm drop and hang by his side, his body as peaceful as it had been in a long time.

“Stop,” cried Mya. “No more fighting.”

Jaxx nodded. “I understand your worry, Mya. If we don’t end him, he’ll keep coming for us.”

“That’s how you dealt with issues in the past, Jaxx. This is now. Things are changing. We must heal.” She crouched next to Taz and put her hand on his broken arm. She closed her eyes, no doubt sending the same type of tranquil energy she had just sent Jaxx. Taz relaxed, his mouth slackening.

A pop and a crack, and Taz’s arm moved back into its correct position, healing quickly.

Mya moved away from Taz.

“What did you do?” Taz asked, pushing himself in a sitting position, studying his newly fixed lower arm. “The nano-receptors aren’t responding, which means it was fixed completely.”

Mya nodded. “It’s time to leave. Go.”

Taz dipped his head, pressing his hands against the ground, and pushing himself into a standing position. “Will do.” Taz lifted his hand and saluted Jaxx. “Farewell, comrade. It was an honor to do combat with you. But as the little one said, times are changing.”

This didn’t seem right. This was too easy. You don’t just change your mind in a split second. But maybe A/I’s were different. Their emotions weren’t as intense as humans.

Taz gave Jaxx a nod. “Maybe someday we will be on the same side.”

Jaxx shook his head no. “Not going to happen.”

Taz turned toward the jungle, his feet crunching against small pebbles and dirt.

Jaxx glanced at his own feet for a moment. Was he free to go? Could he get Drew to the pyramid? Was it finally going his way?

A rush of heat hit Jaxx and he looked up. Taz was in a full run, his eyes like a demon, and heading right for Jaxx.

Chkooj! Chkooj!

Blue blood sprayed from Taz’s head and chest and a geyser of thin fire streamed from both puncture wounds.

Taz slid to the ground, his arms and legs twitching violently. A loud snap and Taz went limp. His body was dead.

“What the —” Jaxx spun on his heels. Megan was on the ramp, the rifle in her arms, smoke trailing from the end of the gun’s muzzle.

“He was going to have another go at you,” Megan bellowed.

“Holy shit,” Jaxx said, bringing his hand to his heart. “The bastard can’t stop lying now he’s learned how.”

Megan dipped her head and spit in the water. “Yep, and serves the asshole right.” She patted her rifle.

“Mya,” said Jaxx. “Why did you tell the Agadon our plan? Every Agadon is hooked up via the A/I database, or something like that. You tell one Agadon and they all know the truth.”

“I know. That’s why I did it. And that’s why I healed Taz’s arm.”

Jaxx shook his head, not understanding. “You allowed him to leave unharmed, and that didn’t go so well. He is our enemy and doesn’t want anything good to happen to any single human being on earth.”

“That doesn’t mean we should be the same way to his race. Yes, defend ourselves when attacked, but when they are harmed by our attack, we show them compassion. We show them a different way.”

Jaxx was about to speak in opposition, then remembered the Taiyonians on planet Taiyo. When Jaxx helped invade, when he killed many of their pilots and people, they still showed him love and acceptance after he crash landed. They gave him mercy, help, and understanding. It not only changed Jaxx, it changed Captain Rivkah Ravenwood for the better.

Well, a little.

“Now,” continued Mya. “The Agadon will have another way to act from. They might not choose it, but it’s now in their database as another possible option. It won’t happen overnight, but in the not too distant future, they may take a different route to diplomacy. Instead of hurting everyone, they may be lenient. And eventually, they may stop invading altogether, seeing the error in their ways, and going to a more compassionate nature.”

Jaxx wanted to tap her head. Was that really a six-year-old girl in that mind? He was in awe of Mya. What child this age could talk like a damned adult, and a wise one at that?

“Okay, Mya. I’ll believe what you say.” Nonetheless, it was time to go. If the Agadon were interested in stopping Jaxx, then they’d be on their way now. “Megan,” hollered Jaxx. “How is Drew?”

Megan’s lips downturned. “Not any better.”

Jaxx slumped in his posture. “Are you staying with Drew?”

“Yes. I’ll be by his side when he passes. I wouldn’t want him to die alone.”

“Thank you,” responded Jaxx. “Tell Damion and Lily to swim to the shore. We’ll begin our trek to Machu Picchu right away.”

31

Andes Mountains, Peru

The sound of rushing water awoke Drew from his terrible, sweat-drenched sleep. He was weak. His back hurt and his stomach groaned with misery. He searched his body for something that didn’t hurt.

“Oh, good,” he mumbled. “My feet are numb. They don’t hurt.” No, he was wrong. They weren’t numb. They were freezing, and wet. Why were they wet?

Megan awoke in a stir. “Excuse me?” She stood up, her feet splashing against water. She clutched a large, wide rifle against her chest. “Who said that?” She stomped her foot, clearly not expecting water. “I’m in the river?”

Drew lifted his hand, doing his best to snap his fingers, but again, they were listless and snapping just wasn’t going to happen.

Megan jerked back.

“You surprised I’m alive?” asked Drew.

Megan nodded, her eyes changing from surprised to melancholy.

“I am.” Her lower lip trembled. “I’m sorry.”

Drew touched his stomach. At least the internal bleeding had stopped, thanks to the doctor who pulled the bullet out and patched him up. Yet, he was too damaged to be repaired and was told he wouldn’t make it through the night.

But maybe he had? “What day is it?”

Megan shook her head. “I don’t know.” She took a nice long gander at her feet. “Why is there water in here?” She gasped when she saw it. “Water is coming in at the open ramp. The ship is sinking.”

Drew went to turn and look. A sharp pain grabbed a hold of him. “Well, turning around isn’t happening.”

Megan hurried to the ramp. Drew heard her slap a button.

Dvvvvvvdvvv! Dvvvvvdvvv!

Was that the ramp? “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to close the ramp. It has malfunctioned and isn’t shutting. We’ll have to get you off this boat.”

Drew wanted to negate her plan. It should only include her getting off this ship, not we. He would rather her save herself and forget about him. He could feel his life slipping away. He was meeting the man in the moon for a good weed fest in a matter of hours at the latest. And he welcomed it.

Anything to get him out of this pain.

But she wouldn’t listen to him.

She slid the crook of each one of her arms underneath his armpits and pulled him forward and off of his seat.

He fell to the floor, his pants soaking wet at the knees. “That’s freezing,” he blurted out.

“Sorry about that,” she said. “I should have warned you.” She shifted around to his back and grabbed a hold of him the same way. She heaved, dragging him out and around the row of cabin seats and to the ramp. She huffed and puffed, her breath coming quickly. “You’re a heavy one.”

Drew smiled, though barely able to keep his eye lids open. “Yeah, I’ve been working out.”

She let out a snort. “You ready to get even colder?”

“It won’t be any different than how I feel now.”

“Here we go.”

She pushed off the ramp and they plunged into the calm water, the icy liquid turning on every sensory synapse in Drew’s body. Hell, every goose bump screamed for help. His teeth clattered. “This is…whoa…fr-freezing.”

“You’re singing to the choir,” she replied, pulling Drew through the water and to the shore. She dragged him over the rocks and on to the sandy dirt. She rested him against the bark of a downed palm tree and sat next to him, patting his upper thigh. “We’ll rest here for a while.”

The sun shone through the trees and warmed him nicely. He leaned his head back. “Thanks for being here for me.” He glanced around. “Where is everyone?”

“They are on their way to the key pyramid. They left a few hours ago.”

Drew nodded. “I see.”

For a brief moment, there was silence between them. It was awkward, but at this time and place in Drew’s life, who cared. He wasn’t trying to impress a beautiful girl with anything, because death was sweeping in and taking him far from her.

Megan spoke up, interrupting the silence. “You want to play tic-tac-toe?”

“Sure.” He understood what Megan was doing. Tic-tac-toe was the eternal, never ending game. Every game usually ended in a tie, and you’d have to play another game to break that tie.

She drew what looked like a pound sign in the ground. “You first.”

Drew nodded, flopping his hand on the ground. He shaped an “o” in the middle box. “I’m predictable.”

She wrote an “x” in one of the spaces. “We’re all a bit predictable, don’t you think?”

Drew shrugged and attempted to write another “o” but was suddenly overcome with a huge desire to sleep. He closed his eyes for a moment.

“No you don’t,” yelled Megan, jostling Drew awake.

“You know, I thought you were quite hot when I met you.” He attempted a grin. It fell quickly.

Megan put her fingers on both sides of his lips, lifting them upward, crinkling his skin. It was an ill fated smile, but it pleased her. “There you go.” She giggled. “You’ve got a smile.”

Drew laughed, then held his stomach. “That hurt.”

Megan looked at her hands in her lap. “Yeah, I thought you were kinda cute when I met you.”

“Kinda?”

She put her thumb and finger in the air, creating a small gap between them. “Okay, a little bit sexy. You know, with that geeky, weed smoking, charming kind of way.”

“You’re just trying to make me feel good because I’m dying.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” She winked, giving him a smile, obviously doing her best to make Drew’s last bits of time on Earth a better one.

“I wonder what we would have ruled over,” said Drew. “I’m really curious about that.”

Megan lifted her shoulders, dropping them an instant later. “Meh, it would have been a pain in the ass. Just running my bar business just about ruined me. If you wanted stress, then yes, let’s rule a city, or whatever the heck we were going to rule.”

“Thanks,” said Drew.

“For what?”

“Staying with me until, you know, I…”

“Until you go to the great beyond? Probably heaven.”

Drew looked up into the sky, seeing the beautiful palm trees blowing in the breeze. “You think there is a heaven?”

Megan nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

“What do you think it’s like? Lotsa hot women?”

Megan gently punched Drew’s shoulder. “Stop. At a time like this, and you’re still thinking of women?”

“No. I’m not. I’m just grateful.” He glanced at her. “I’m glad I met you.”

“Ditto,” she responded. “Now, back to our tic-tac-toe?”

Drew shook his head. “No. You’d win anyway.”

“But I was going to let you win.” She let out a quick laugh.

“Can I ask you a question?” Drew asked.

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, actually, it’s more or less a last request.”

“You want a kiss.” Megan playfully rolled her eyes, doing her best to hold in a cry, her eyes beginning to well up.

“You know me too well.” Drew was beginning to slur his words.

“Are you leaving soon?”

He shook his head up and down. “Yes. Really soon.” His eyelids began to gain more weight and started to close.

“I didn’t know you too well,” Megan’s voice cracked. “But I think you are a great guy.” She sniffed.

Drew did his best to smile, but his lips wouldn’t cooperate. Megan’s hands came to his cheeks, holding his head up. She pressed her soft lips against his.

Drew managed to kiss back, then let out a breath. “Thank you.” He closed his eyes, leaning his head against her shoulder.

Megan’s tears dripped onto his head, and her soft cries echoed in his ears.

If anyone could die with a first kiss, then they’d die happy, thought Drew.

He closed his eyes. Darkness pervaded him, then a flash of light. He saw his mother’s face. He let his body relax. Another tear dropped on him, this time on his cheek. He whispered one last time. “Thank you.” He tried to open his eyes again, to see Megan’s beautiful face. But they were too heavy, too tired, and wouldn’t open.

“Goodbye, Megan.”

“Goodbye, Drew.”

He felt Megan’s lips touch his forehead. He then faded off to the last sleep of his life.

32

Andes Mountains, Peru

“Everyone, keep your Chi up,” said Jaxx, walking on a trail that the historians claimed was built by the Incas. He wished he could convince them otherwise, and that these were built by the Maya, but who the heck cared right now? “From the location we crashed, we are on what you’d call the third or fourth leg of a hike to Machu Picchu. We aren’t too far from the Machu Picchu ruins right now.”

They were going up a hill. If they took the wrong step, they’d be sliding down the cliff to their ultimate end. If these kids weren’t special, Jaxx would be nervous as hell for them and probably wouldn’t permit them to go any further. But they’ve proven they could tackle a lot that came their way, and probably more than Jaxx ever could.

“Don’t worry about us, Jaxx. Worry about yourself,” came Damion. “We’ll be fine.”

Lily bounced her head up and down, her smile like a bright sun. “We’re going to make it faster than you think. Just speed up and we’ll follow you.”

Mya was in the back. She was taking in the extraordinary view of lush meadows, hills topped with soft green grasses and cushioned mosses, and surrounded by giant mountain peaks.

Jaxx huffed and puffed from the thin air and high altitude, but these kids were doing fine. How the hell was that possible?

Mya pointed over Jaxx’ shoulder. “Horses. Can we ride them?”

Up ahead and on a hill, horses were grazing. They were wild and most likely weren’t willing to let Jaxx or any of the kids jump on their backs to take them where they wanted to go.

Jaxx shook his head. “No.” He pointed. “You see those steps?” Rock steps, cut in blocks, went six steps up, then turned at a right angle into more and more steps.

“Yeah,” replied Damion.

“There are roughly two thousand of those steps leading to the top of where Machu Picchu resides — home of the ancient Mayans. That is our entrance.” Years ago, the historians changed their stance on Mayan and Incan history. Much of what was once thought as Mayan creations changed to the Inca. Jaxx knew that if he was talking to a tour guide right now, he’d be corrected in a millisecond, being told these were the Inca’s civilization, not the Maya. “It’s about a thirty-minute climb.” But the Inca, according to Jaxx, simply took over ancient Mayan sites, including this one. The old historians and Peruvian myths were correct in Jaxx’s mind — the Maya were the ones who birthed this site.

“And then what?” asked Lily, her excitement almost contagious. “What do we do after we get to the top?”

“Then we find the way to the key pyramid. It’s somewhere underneath Machu Picchu,” responded Mya.

“We just have to find the entrance to get underneath Machu Picchu,” said Jaxx. “That ought to be a pleasure.” His sarcasm wasn’t lost on the children.

A hefty sound vibrated the ground and echoed across the sky. Jaxx turned and glanced at the clouds that slowly wafted like a smoky fog all around. He couldn’t see anything, yet the sound was unmistakable and something he’d heard all too many times. “Agadon ships are coming. We have to pick up the pace.”

“Then go, old man,” hollered Damion. “We can keep up.”

They reached the stairs and a boom shook the air. “They’ll be here soon,” cried Mya.

“Run,” replied Jaxx.

They pounded up the stairs like their lives depended on it. Jaxx didn’t know if the Agadon were on their way to kill him, but he was sure they were on their way to kill the kids. All the Agadon needed from Jaxx was for him to stay alive if they still wanted to run the entire galactic pyramid network. The kids, on the other hand, would be meaningless nuisances.

Jaxx was sweating and it was getting even harder to breath at this elevation.

The sky roared. The Agadon were coming closer. He hoped the Agadon didn’t know exactly where he was, but wishful thinking never got him anywhere.

The air was damp and cold and the stone blocks he was stepping on, taking him higher and higher toward Machu Picchu, were strong and sturdy — something he wished he felt.

He swallowed, pushing down his fear and trepidation. He glanced over his shoulder. The children were having a rougher go of it as well, something they weren’t displaying ten minutes ago.

Moving faster up the steps, Jaxx eyed the green terraces that ascended at the same grade as the steps. “My guess,” said Jaxx, “is the entrance is somewhere in the sacred square.” He gasped, coming to an abrupt halt. “Duck.”

Jaxx and the kids went to the ground, hugging the stairs.

A lone starfighter zipped across the sky and just a ways off from Machu Picchu, but close — damn close.

It disappeared into the clouds, and its rumble slowly faded the farther it traveled.

“They don’t know exactly where we are yet,” explained Mya. “Let’s get up, Jaxx. Let’s go.”

Jaxx blinked a few times, gathering his bearings. He nodded. “Okay, follow me.”

He stepped onto a terrace, feeling the soft grasses underneath his boots. He ran, and the kids were hot on his tail, chasing after him as fast as their feet and Chi would take them.

Jaxx jumped onto the side of a stone retaining wall that kept the terraces intact, a retaining wall that thousands and thousands of years of earth movement still hadn’t touched — a remarkable feat of engineering.

He crossed onto another terrace, his legs carrying him faster than even he imagined he could run. “Are you all keeping up?” he asked.

“Of course, numb nuts,” responded Damion.

A growl filled the heavens and Jaxx took a nose dive on the grass. The kids did the same.

“Everyone, stay down,” he whispered loudly.

Two more Agadon fighters sped toward them and flashed by. The Agadon hadn’t spotted them.

He stood back up and rushed forward, the Machu Picchu structures and buildings more in view now. He took a giant leap, landing on a thick wall built of ten to fifty ton rocks that were perfectly placed together, chiseled as if by laser technology. Not even a needle could fit between two stones. It was built without mortar yet able to withstand any earthquake or natural disaster that had pounded Machu Picchu over the thousands of years the city had been on Earth.

This place had never ceased to amaze Jaxx. It never ceased to amaze Jaxx that people weren’t amazed that a civilization could build such a wonder without the use of wheels or iron tools. Hell, an amazing network of terraces kept the city from falling down the mountain side and a network of an incredible water supply system extends over the entire area.

He jumped down, landing on more grass. He was on a walkway between buildings and another great wall, also terraced for more structures above him.

He took another look over his shoulder. He nodded when he saw Damion right behind him, Lily in the middle, and Mya in the rear. These kids were troopers and hadn’t complained once.

Damion gave him a thumbs up.

Jaxx slowed down. They were somewhat hidden. He thumbed to his right. “That’s Nusta Palace.” He shrugged a moment later, figuring these kids didn’t give two rat shits about a palace at a moment like this.

They strode past it, coming to the Temple of the Sun. The ground and walls shuddered, and Jaxx leaned up against one of the walls that rounded into the temple. He motioned for the kids to join him.

They ran quickly, pressing their backs to the wall, and glaring up at the sky.

“Holy mother of —” Jaxx exclaimed.

A ship — perhaps the mothership — breached the clouds like a whale diving into the ocean. It was larger than any star cruiser in the Secret Space Program, and was the entire breadth of the sky, shadowing everything below.

A blue haze from the ship’s belly flicked on and highlighted Machu Picchu’s entirety.

The problem — other than the giant craft probably about to drop countless Agadon troops — where in the world was the entrance to the key pyramid?

All Jaxx had was a hunch. And he had no other option than to go for it, and now.

He took a deep breath. “Okay, children. I don’t know if we’ve only got one shot, but I’m hoping we have more. We have to run for it.” Jaxx eyed them all individually. “Are you ready?”

They all nodded.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

33

Machu Picchu, Peru

Jaxx turned, leaped on top of a short wall, and jumped down to the grass. The kids followed. “Hold hands.”

They all grasped each other’s hands and rushed toward the central plaza. The wind swirled around them. A loud pop reverberated against the plateau and Jaxx let go of the kids, glancing up at the large ship’s underbelly. “Oh, crap.”

A gang of combat-mechs were descending, fire raging out of their feet, slowing them down as they plummeted toward the grass covered plaza.

Kunchi! Kunchi!

They landed gently, the mech’s gyro’s absorbing the impact. They stood straight, their chests out, and their arms pointing in Jaxx’s and the kids’ direction. No, those weren’t arms. Those were big-ass cannons.

“Get down.”

Wapooojjj! Wapooojjj!

Blasts of ion burst flew over their heads, barely missing them.

“They won’t miss a second time.” Jaxx pushed to his feet. “Get up and run.”

Jaxx took a left, heading toward his hunch — the Sacred Stone next to the Sacred Square. It was supposed to be a portal into the inside of the Huayna Picchu, a mountain next to the Machu Picchu plateau. It was a legend, but perhaps the legend was more than myths and fairy tales. He hoped beyond hope that it would lead him to the key pyramid.

Damion ran passed him, then Lily, and finally Mya. She slapped his butt. “Hurry up, Jaxx.” Her hand was boiling hot. She, along with the other children, were bringing through a ridiculous amount of Chi, allowing them to move like a rocket across the flat plaza.

Jaxx had to do the same. As he ran, he imagined a heat-sinking blast of energy rushing down from space, through the clouds, and directly into the top of his head. “More, more,” he yelled, as he ran after the kids. The energy warmed up his belly, then slid down into his legs. “Whoa.” A fire sensation ripped through him, flowing through his entire body.

His speed picked up.

Krackow!

Dirt exploded behind him, coming up at his feet, nearly taking him into the air.

Krackow! Krackow!

An ion cannon blasted into the ground, slicing in front of Mya. The soil lifted, flinging Mya into the air, her arms and legs flailing. She screamed and twisted around, her arms now outstretched toward Jaxx.

Jaxx picked up his pace and side-stepped the new indentation in the ground and put his hands out, catching Mya as she fell.

“Nice catch,” she smiled. Her face quickly turned into a frown. “Jump away.”

Jaxx jumped to the side. A blast punctured the grass where he once stood. The explosion picked Jaxx up, flipping him head over heels.

He landed on his back with a grunt, his eyes wide. He patted his chest, feeling for Mya. He expelled his breath sharply. “Where is she?”

“Over here.” She was standing, her face screwed up in worry. “Are you okay?”

Jaxx leapt to his feet and pushed onward, grabbing Mya’s hand. They raced toward Lily and Damion.

“Go up the steps in front of you and then take a right to a giant stone. You’ll see it. It resembles the Huayna Picchu mountain behind it. You can’t miss it,” Jaxx hollered over the wind and the giant mechs’ pounding, mechanical feet crashing onto the plateau at every footfall.

The stairs were long and steep. Jaxx looked over his shoulder, and scrunched up his body when he saw a mech topple over an entire wall, sending the perfectly cut, puzzle piece, rock tonnage to the ground. The art history, the engineering of that wall — all shat on by a race that had no clue what beauty was or why the sacred walls of Machu Picchu were important.

Hell, these assholes were an A/I programmed to only care about power, greed, and control.

He turned back around, rushing up the stone stairs, his boots nearly touching the soles of the kids’ shoes. He just wanted to pick them up, throw them to the Sacred Stone, and get them out of danger’s way — at least for an instant.

The mechs’ high speed and long strides brought them closer each passing second.

Jaxx looked over his shoulder. “Incoming,” he yelled, stumbling up the stairs, pushing Mya farther ahead of him.

He jumped high, using his Chi to propel him. A particle weapon hammered hot energy into the steps where Jaxx had been a moment ago. An explosion of stone and grit slammed into his body, tumbling him into a wall bordering the staircase.

He turned and threw his hands forward, clasping his fingers around a jutting stone that had been pushed forward and out of alignment by the concussion. Jaxx squeezed his fingers against the rock and pulled.

Shit.

Something had a hold of his foot. He couldn’t move.

He turned, seeing his lower leg buried in large, thick rock. He pulled harder, doing his best to jar his foot loose.

Still no movement.

He glance at the combat mechs. Several were closing in, now only about fifty yards away. One lifted its arm, readying to end Jaxx where he lay.

“Jaxx,” screamed Mya, jumping in front of him. Lily came next and then Damion.

Wapooojjj!

A bolt of energy shot from the mech’s cannon, ripping toward Jaxx and the kids.

“Move!” yelled Jaxx. “Move out of the way.”

34

Machu Picchu, Peru

The kids grabbed onto Jaxx’s arms and pulled. Somehow, his leg slipped through the rocks. He grabbed the kids and rolled.

Krackow!

The energy blast erupted against the steps above them.

Jaxx spun around, eyeing the divot in the hill and the staircase. He bit his lower lip. A portion of the wall had collapsed into the newly created hole.

“Let’s go,” he bellowed, motioning for them to follow.

He scaled the rocks, placing one perfect foot hold after another, grasping the broken wall chunks and landing on the untouched stairs beyond it.

He twisted, holding out his arm. The kids grabbed his forearm, one by one, and he flung them to the next steps higher.

Another crackle of energy pierced the air, then another and another. He hopped up a few more steps. Rocks splintered at his feet and fell away.

“Dammit. Are you serious?” He shook his head, his shoulders wanting to fall to the ground in despair.

Agadon troops had landed. They were rushing toward him, and running by the combat-mechs that continued their approach.

He took two giant leaps and found himself at the top of the landing. He bolted toward a level floor made out of stone and clay, at the end of which was a giant stone — the Sacred Stone — that was shaped just like the mountain in the distance behind it.

The kids were in front of the stone, watching Jaxx rush in their direction.

He skid to a stop, pressing his hands on the Sacred Stone, breathing loudly. “Okay, what do we do? What do we do?” he repeated to himself, placing his palms all over the rock. “If I put my hand —”

“What’s this?” asked Mya.

Jaxx looked down. She had her palms on two glowing hand prints at its base. No matter how many times Jaxx had been to this rock in his years as a field researcher, he’d never seen those prints before.

“How did —” He swallowed his question. Right now, who cared? He had to get to the key pyramid and perhaps this was how.

He slid his hands down the rock and touched the hand prints. They fit perfectly.

The crunch of Agadon feet made their way to Jaxx’s ears. They were heading up the stairs and were almost at the top. Any minute now and they’d be on Jaxx and the kids.

“Am I doing this wrong?” Jaxx questioned. He had his hands on the glowing prints, but nothing was happening.

Lily reached over and slid Jaxx’s index finger a few centimeters to the right, fitting it perfectly in the print. “You were just a little off.”

The middle of the rock opened up and a spiraling hole full of swirling stars was in the middle of the giant stone.

Wapooh!

A blast zipped into the top of the rock, singeing a black streak. A laughter that could only be Taz blew across the wind.

“Taz?” Jaxx blurted out. That bastard again? There was no let up with that guy.

“I just wanted you to see my face before I ended your friends.” Taz took a step forward and aimed an energy rifle at Mya.

Jaxx shook his head and shielded Mya’s body with his own. “I’ll join your cause.”

Taz chuckled. “Nice try. Now move.”

“No.”

Wapooh!

Jaxx felt an ion blast dig into him. His eyes fell to his chest. Smoke rose and the smell of burning flesh carried to his nose. Taz smirked and continued to target Jaxx with his rifle, its barrel now pointed at Jaxx’s head. “I shoot you one more time and you fall. That kid you’re hiding behind you will be defenseless.”

Jaxx muscles weakened and his heart slowed. His eyes rolled back and he put his arms out like he was about to fly. He felt Lily and Mya against the back of his arms and Damion grabbed grabbed him by his shirt. He teetered backward and fell into the portal, taking the kids with him.

35

Machu Picchu, Peru

Jaxx landed on his back with a thud, the wind knocked out of him. He rolled to his side, doing his best to catch his breath.

A hand touched his back and then several more. “Lay back down, Jaxx.”

It was Mya.

“My chest…it…burns.” Jaxx wanted to get out more words, but couldn’t. Each word slashed against his chest like a blow torch flaming his skin.

And where was he? No wind swirling around his body. Very little light blaring in his eyes. And warmth?

Jaxx lay on his back, his vision waning. Above him was a cavernous roof, but no opening or portal. It must have closed while he was on his fall down to wherever he was.

He inhaled and a sharp pain grabbed a hold of him. He grunted, tightening up every muscle he figured he had. “It burns.”

A hum filled the cavern and surrounded the stone pathway he was on. A prickly sensation moved up his spine into his mind. Then he could see and breathe and his pain was gone.

He touched his chest and looked around. The three children had their eyes closed and were sitting cross-legged, their hands on their knees, chanting something so angelic, Jaxx couldn’t help but tear up.

He reached out and touched Mya. “Thank you.”

She opened her eyes and the humming ceased. She smiled. “You did good, Jaxx. We’re heading to the key pyramid.”

He wiped his tears and stood, the burning still there, but much less so. He weakly muttered, “Do we still have to hurry?”

Damion shrugged. “Those mean, blue aliens may find a way in here.”

“Did the portal close?”

“Yes,” Lily chimed in.

“They most likely won’t get down here,” said Jaxx, hopefully.

Jaxx paced forward, following the faint light from the strange-looking torches that lined the stone walls. “What are those?” He stopped and observed one, touching the coned shaft. “That’s granite.” He lifted it off a holder that fastened it to the wall. The torch was heavy and there was some type of liquid inside of it. He stared into the light source atop the cone. “Is that an orbed crystal?”

To his surprise, it was.

The crystalline orb glowed brighter. “It’s free energy,” he exclaimed, studying it like a scientist would a brand new invention. “How does it do that? Maybe it’s like the Baghdad Battery?”

“The what?” asked Damion.

“An ancient pot found in Iraq that still, to this day, gives off energy. Perhaps this cone has the same properties inside it, much like the batteries, but —”

Rocks crumbled above and pebbles fell from the ceiling and down the cave walls, tumbling onto the pathway. One rolled to Jaxx’s feet.

Shit. The Agadon were coming, probably using some type of drill to get through the Sacred Stone.

“Let’s move.” Jaxx hurried down the pathway. On one side, the wall hugged the path, but on the other side, the cave protruded outward where rocks littered the ground.

His archaeologist-self wanted to stop and check out everything off the trail, and at this instant, being off the trail probably wasn’t wise.

He ran around a corner, keeping his feet smack dab on the path, the torch extended out in front of him.

More loud sounds echoed behind him and rocks cascaded down the wall, clanging against the stone ground. He turned another corner, the kids hurrying close behind.

The trail pitched downward and Jaxx slid, keeping his feet underneath him, balancing well against the sudden change.

“Be caref —” Jaxx took a step and his legs went into the air. He came back down, smacking on his side. He bounced and slid down a long, smooth surface, the wind rushing against his face.

A scream and Jaxx knew the kids were on the same downhill demise as he was.

“Hold on,” he yelled. “Make sure your feet are out in front of you.” He put his rubber soles against the ground to slow himself. It didn’t do any good.

His boots slapped against level ground, the sound vibrated off the walls. He came to a sudden stop, still somehow grasping the torch.

“Whoa,” came Damion’s voice.

Jaxx turned and braced. The three kids were barreling down toward him, sliding fast.

Jaxx grunted as Damion’s body pounded against his, and then two more thuds met his back, echoing in the cavern. It was Mya and Lily.

“That was fun,” cheered Lily, her hands in the air.

“Are you okay?” asked Jaxx, touching each child as if they’d just been in a car crash.

Damion pushed Jaxx’s hand away. “It was just a slide, Jaxx. We’re fine.”

Mya dusted herself off and stood. She pointed. “There it is.”

Before them stood an enormous black pyramid at the end of the cavern. It shimmered from within, projecting a glow across the cave walls. And, just like the pyramids all around the world and the galaxy, the land it was sitting on was raised. But how? This one was underground and it could only be raised by the gravity of the moon.

He put his hand to his mouth and nodded. “That’s how,” he said to himself, eyeing a stream of light trickling from a hole in the massive cavern – a hole just above the pyramid’s top point.

A blast shot outward, bringing Jaxx back to the moment. He immediately pushed the kids away. Rocks cracked apart as a bolt from an ion cannon hit the wall next to them.

“Go, go,” shouted Jaxx.

They ran toward the pyramid, Jaxx’s heart beating wildly as the sound of Agadon troops running pierced his eardrums. His goal was to keep the kids safe and he was failing at that.

They reached the pyramid and Jaxx looked over his shoulder. Agadon were on their way, their weapons extended.

“Crap.”

He touched the pyramid and electricity shot through him. His DNA activated and a hologram jumped up from the pyramid in front of him — his DNA strand.

The hologram lit up and the electricity-like feeling faded. A door opened, shifting inward, and then rotated, opening about four feet in width.

The kids moved into action, slipping through the large opening. Jaxx followed.

“They’re almost here,” shouted Damion.

Jaxx panicked, touching the wall everywhere he could, looking for a way to close it. “I can’t find it.”

The footsteps came closer.

“Get your Chi up,” ordered Jaxx, placing hand print after hand print on the granite wall. “We’re going to need it.” He took his hands off and stood in front of the kids, the door blocking their view of the oncoming blue assholes, but not blocking the sounds of their advancement.

Jaxx went into a defensive stance. The kids mimicked him.

“They’ll be here any second. Throw all the energy you can and —”

Jaxx fell to the ground. A dizziness overtook him and his ears rang like no other. He closed his eyes and watched as his DNA sequences synced up with the pyramid.

The door slammed shut.

“Jaxx,” said Mya. “Are you okay?”

Jaxx shook his head and held his hands over his face. “What was that?” He stood, feeling woozy. “I’m alright.”

A pound echoed in the room, the sound of Agadon trying to make their way into the pyramid.

“Over here,” said Lily. “Here is where you lay down.”

Jaxx eyed a sarcophagus. A granite slab lay across it, covering the empty coffer.

Another pound and the door shook, soot and dust shot from the seams and the door moved a few inches. Another slam popped against the door and the door moved half a foot.

“Shit,” said Jaxx. “It’s not going to hold.”

36

Machu Picchu, Peru

Jaxx hustled to the granite slab on top of the sarcophagus. “Hold my hand, Mya.” He hopped onto the slab and lay on his back, outstretching his hand and curling his fingers around Mya’s hand.

A ping resounded across the pyramid walls and the door to the coffer room shook and opened a crack more.

“They’re getting in,” shouted Damion.

“Place your other hand on your heart, Jaxx,” said Mya.

Jaxx nodded, his heart nearly beating out of his throat.

“Try to keep calm and concentrate.”

Lily nodded. “I feel it, Jaxx. The light is coming down.”

A pound rang inside the room and granite dust spurt out from the door. The door opened another few inches. They’d be in any moment now.

“Jaxx, don’t do anything stupid,” said Taz. “If you do this, you will no longer have the riches we’d grant you. According to the prophecy, you’ll be dead. Just another memory inside a sarcophagus, which the human race has deemed appropriate for the placement of mummified remains of important people. Don’t be one of those remains.”

Jaxx couldn’t help it. His archaeological mind kicked in. “They’ve never found a mummy inside a king’s or queen’s chamber, Taz. It’s not for the dead and never has been.”

“Then what is it if for, Jaxx?”

The door opened a few more inches. Thank God it was several feet thick.

Mya put her hand over Jaxx’s mouth. “He’s trying to take your focus away from what’s at hand. Don’t fall for it.”

“Right,” responded Jaxx. “I’m the key.”

He took in a deep breath, and unconsciously pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and rolled his eyes back.

“The light is here,” said Lily.

A beam of light came down from the pyramid’s capstone and penetrated Jaxx’s heart. He arched, the energy pulsing through every aspect of his body, activating all of his cells, infusing Jaxx with the essence of all ancient wisdom held by all Beings designated as the key DNA holder for the pyramid network in times past.

He sucked in a deeper breath and became lighter. He floated off of the coffer, moving toward the ceiling.

His vision filled with bright golden light and blasted out of his pours. He began to spin, twirling around faster and faster, moving closer to the apex.

A weight descended upon him, and he began to lower toward the sarcophagus, the energy changing from golden to muddied brown.

“What’s going on?” he said.

The door burst in two, rocking the chamber. A shock rushed through Jaxx and he fell on the granite coffer, the pops and cracks of his bones adjusting from impact.

He was no longer a Being of Light. He was Jaxx again. And when he slammed against the granite, the inflexible and harsh feeling of being inside a human body grabbed him for all he was worth, and shook him back to reality.

He stood, his muscles flexed, his hands in fists. “Back away, Taz.”

The children’s eyes were closed and Taz was in the doorway with several Agadon troops behind him. He held an energy weapon and lifted it, pointing it at Jaxx. “I’ve been meaning to do this all day.” He changed his aim and targeted Mya.

Mya opened her eyes. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Taz disagreed. He pulled the trigger and a flash of blue exited the muzzle.

Mya leaned to the right, the blast flying past her, marking the ground with a bumpy, singed smear. She jumped to her feet and thrust her hands toward Taz.

Taz pulled the trigger again, this time hitting an energetic wall that Mya had thrown his way, the ion bolt evaporating in a dying ball of electricity.

“No more,” growled Jaxx. He rushed forward, bringing up every ounce of rage that had ever clouded his heart. He lowered his shoulder and rammed Taz, slamming him into the soldiers standing behind him, knocking them clear out of the pyramid. They slid more than ten feet, their arms out, reaching for something to grab on to.

Jaxx twirled around and ran into the chamber. He dove on the sarcophagus as quickly as he could and took a hefty inhale. “Get back to your positions,” he ordered. “Let’s end this.”

The kids’ hum encompassed the room. A black swirl spun just outside the pyramid, and a vacuum-like energy took over. An Agadon scream stabbed the air, then more screams, and more.

“Don’t…do this…Jaxx!” Taz was swept off of his feet and pulled backward, his arms and legs kicking and punching, until his feet went through the vortex.

Taz gave up, letting his arms hang loose toward the floor, allowing the portal of swirling energy pull him in, followed by the rest of his soldiers.

Were they gone?

Jaxx looked across space, his mind carrying him from solar system to solar system to countless planets inhabited by sentient Beings being invaded by the Agadon. In a flash, chalk full of invading Agadon were sucked into the nexus, and like short scene after short scene from planet to planet, their body’s twirled into black vortexes that carried them somewhere he wasn’t allowed to see.

Then a flash of light and everything went white. Jaxx rose again in the air, hovering. He closed his eyes and rolled them back in his head, and his tongue pressed against the roof of his mouth.

“Thank you, Jaxx,” came a soft, angelic voice. And through his third eye, and while hovering, he saw several six-foot tall, bird-like creatures standing next to the kids and greeting them. Feathers covered their bodies. They bowed to Jaxx and the children.

“You have fixed the network,” one of them said.

Jaxx floated higher, syncing up to the golden light connected to the pyramid’s apex that spread out from pyramid to pyramid on Earth and the rest of the galaxy.

“Jaxx,” came a voice. “You have a choice. One that not many have experienced in life, but is always there. What do you choose? Ascension? Or physicality?”

He shook his head, not knowing what the voice meant by ascension.

“It is a crossing from one dimension into another. Your body will be a light body where no danger, harm, or disease will ever befall you and you’ll be traveling the etheric realms, learning, growing, energetically experiencing another way of life.

“Or, you can choose to remain in your current third dimensional body and reality, here to further expand the learnings and evolution of every Being you come across. It is a more difficult reality, though rewarding. Few in your position have ever taken the second option. What is your choice? To ascend or to stay?”

He could only think of one thing. He smiled long and wide. “To stay, but there is only one person I want to remain in the third dimension for. Take me to Rivkah.”

“Your wish is granted.”

He disappeared like a shadow in the night.

37

Andes Mountain, Peru

Drew awoke in a start. Or did he pop out of his body and now he was in heaven? Did he make it? For all he knew, he was a good person, so why not? A little dabble with weed here and there wouldn’t damn him to hell, would it?

He yawned and rubbed his eyes.

If he was in heaven, then why was he so groggy?

Something stirred next to him. A footstep. He dropped his hands to his sides, his elbows sinking into the dirt he lay upon. He lifted his head and gasped, then cringed from a pain in his stomach he was getting all too familiar with.

Looming over him was a Being covered in feathers. It had a yellow beak, beautiful oval eyes, and hands that extended out at the end of its wings.

He was hallucinating. Shit. He had to be. Or, this was it? The next stage of death? But was this an angel staring at him? It didn’t come across as a demon.

Drew flinched and did his best to move, but winced as a pain emanating from his abdomen zapped him from his head to his toes. He swallowed down vomit and fought a slow dizzy spell.

The bird pulled out a device and waived it over Drew.

“Please, let…me die…peacefully.” Drew touched his belly as a sharp stabbing sensation pierced him. He coughed and yelped, the ache taking over.

The bird nodded and continued waiving the device over him. Was that a crystal wand? Drew scrunched up his nose, not accustomed to whatever technology this giant hallucination was using on him.

The Being circled the wand and a flashing light pulsed from the device’s head. A mighty heat consumed his stomach.

Drew cringed. It hurt, but strangely he felt safe. And weird enough, he could not only feel the tissue repairing inside his belly, but he could hear it.

“Drew?”

A hand rested on his shoulder. It was soft, small, and healing.

Drew glared at the bird, thinking it had spoken his name. Drew was captivated by his own imagination. How could he think up such a strange scenario — a damn giant bird fixing his stomach?

Nonetheless, Drew replied, “Yes?”

He had never been on an acid trip before, but if he was on it now, then this was cooler than shit.

“This is Mya talking. I’m next to you, Drew. Above you is a Blue Avion. He’s healing you.”

Drew shook his head. “No, Mr. Bird, you’re not Mya. You are something in my kick-ass bird dream.”

“Drew, I’m kneeling next to you.” Mya tapped his shoulder. “You’re safe now. You will live. The Blue Avions are making sure of it.”

Drew blinked several times. He patted his belly, shaking his head in disbelief. “There’s no pain.” He sat up and touched Mya, making sure she wasn’t just a figment of his imagination.

She wasn’t.

“See? I’m real,” replied Mya.

“Thank God.”

The bird brought the wand to a pouch at its waist. It folded its wings over the front of its body. Drew leaned back, bumping his head on the downed tree. “Am I hallucinating or not?”

“That’s what I thought when I saw giant birds walking through the forest with Mya, Damion, and Lily,” laughed Megan. She was sitting next to Drew, her eyes as bright and beautiful as a rainbow. She turned her head to Mya. “Did they save Drew?”

Mya nodded. “Of course.”

Drew glanced around and then hugged his body closer to the tree, looking up at four giant humanoid birds staring down at him, all crossing their wings in front of them, and Mya, Damion, and Lily by their side.

“What happened?” asked Drew.

“The Agadon are gone,” said Mya.

Drew’s eyes darted back and forth. “Where’s Jaxx?”

“He moved on,” replied Mya.

“Died?” asked Megan, obviously being the first time she’d heard of this.

“Kinda,” said Lily. “It was what he was supposed to do.”

Damion put his hand in a fist and rubbed his knuckles with the other hand. “Yeah, he took care of those bums.”

Drew hung his head. “Damn. There was no other way?” He picked up a rock and lobbed it two feet in front of him. He was weak. He let out breath. “I live and he dies. That shouldn’t have happened.” A weight came over him. Jaxx did all of this to die? Fair wasn’t ever a word that described this world.

“He had to fulfill the prophecy,” responded Mya. “And —” She jerked back and stared off into the sky. “Wait.” She chuckled and stood, jumping up and down. “He chose a different path.” She walked toward a bird and faced it. She motioned for it to lower its head. It complied and bowed, touching its forehead against Mya’s.

For a few minutes, they didn’t move and quiet filled the area. The wind died down. The birds stopped chirping. The leaves ceased rustling. It seemed all went peaceful to allow Mya to hear.

Mya took a step back, moving away from the Avion. She dipped her head and pressed her hands together at her chest. A smile enveloped her face. “Thank you.”

Drew went to get up. His legs shook, too weak for the attempt. He slapped his weary thighs. “What’s going on, Mya?”

Mya spun, intertwining her fingers, making a double fist. Her smile brightened. “He’s alive.”

“Who,” inquired Megan.

“Jaxx,” she said.

“Then he didn’t fulfill his prophecy,” added Drew, sliding a finger across the dirt, confusion weighing over him. “Where is he?”

Mya bent down. She was eye to eye with Drew. “The Agadon are gone. It means he fulfilled what he was supposed to. Somehow, he didn’t pass into the next transition in life, but I don’t know exactly where he is.”

Drew looked around, trying to spot Jaxx hiding in the trees or readying to jump out from a bush like he used to do when Drew was little. He was a practical jokester and perhaps this was another joke? His shoulder’s drooped, knowing that wasn’t going to happen. “Where are you, Jaxx,” said Drew, quietly.

Megan put her hands on her hips. “So, what next?” A short giggle came out of her. “Can they give us a ship to get off of this mountain?”

An Avion nodded.

Drew’s mouth dropped open. “He’s going to give us a ship?”

“It’s not a he. That’s a she,” said Mya. “Yes, they’re going to give you a ship.” She stared at the Avion for a few seconds and nodded her head. “She also says you’re going to be an ambassador to Earth. So will Megan. Together, you are to help humans stay on a positive course to make Earth a vast living ground of heaven on Earth for the rest of the galaxy.”

Megan shook her head like a dog. “Say what?”

“You will rule a portion of Earth. The majority of Montana will be gifted to you. There, the Avions will teach you what you need to teach humanity, and those who have the hearts to see and hear will come to you.”

Drew was still stuck on the ship. “And we’ll be given a ship?”

Mya folded her hands over her chest. “In time, yes. You’ll be taking sojourns to other planets in the galaxy to learn things you can’t learn here. You’ll be taking humans back and forth for the time being until they can assimilate what they’ve learned. Eventually, they will use it to live heavenly lives on Earth.”

Drew pushed off the ground, his legs a bit weak, and he fell on top of the tree in a sitting position. “You can’t be a six year old. What six year old speaks like that?” He shrugged. Mya wasn’t an ordinary child. He extended his hand toward an Avion. “This sounds like an interesting proposal. I’ll take it.” What else would he do besides sit at home and smoke more weed?

The Avion grabbed his hand with both of hers. She bowed a second time, touching her forehead to Drew’s.

Drew stiffened, and a throng of electricity went through him. His muscles strengthened, his bones energized, and the world around him began to spin.

He let go.

“What was —” He stopped speaking. He was back in Whitefish, Montana and standing. Megan and the children were by his side, and the four big birds were in front of him. “How did they do that?”

Megan stepped forward, grabbing a hold of Drew’s arm. She was as shocked as he was. “How did we get back here?”

The Avions gestured for Drew to turn around.

He did and his face went slack. A myriad of Beings he had never known existed, all different shapes and sizes, stood before him. Some were human-looking, though twice his size. Others were as alien as could be with purple tentacles, or ant-like red Beings, or giant praying mantis lookalikes. They were calm, exuding a sense of love and peace.

A ten foot tall Being resembling a Polynesian human walked toward him. A golden glow emanated from within, radiating like a saint. He pulled out a scroll and handed it to Drew. “Welcome to the Galactic Federation of Light.”

He took a step back and slapped his hands together, placing them in front of his face as if in prayer.

He dipped his head and spread his hands apart. A sparkling poof of light emanated from the Being’s hands and erupted into a cloud, covering the entire mass of aliens.

It faded away a few moments later, and behind it, every Being was gone. Drew spun back around, wanting some answers from the Blue Avions.

He paused and looked around. The Avions were gone as well.

Megan splayed her fingers on her neck, dumbfounded. “Where —”

“Don’t ask me,” interrupted Drew. “I’m trippin’ right now.”

“What does the scroll say, Drew?” asked Mya, laying a hand on Drew’s arm.

Drew eyed her. “Yeah, what else is going to blow me away right now.” He shook the scroll in the air. “Probably this.” He opened it.

It was covered in symbols that probably only Jaxx knew. “I don’t know. I think —” Shadows of the symbols lifted off of the parchment and swirled in the air. They moved toward Drew and touched the skin between his brows, then slipped through his cranium and into his brain.

He went rigid, his body and mind now able to translate the message like it was simple English. He spoke, “We of the Galactic Federation of Light Beings have chosen you, along with a special few others across your world, to represent the human race in our Federation of Light. You have all graduated. You’ve evolved and passed the many tests set before you. Congratulations. Your world has now changed and the shackles that have bound you to your egos, to your negative systems that brainwashed you your entire lives and for the entire life of the human drama, are now lifted. Welcome.”

The scroll heated up and turned scorching hot.

“Ow.” Drew dropped the scroll and wiggled his hand, trying to ease the burn taking over.

The scroll hit the ground, shattering into a million pieces of light that shot into him and washed through his body. Every planet, race, creed, and philosophy encompassing all of the Milky Way Galaxy penetrated his body, overwhelming his nervous system, and sticking to every nook and cranny in his mind.

He fell to his knees, the sensation becoming too much. Megan rushed to him, bending down to help him up.

He shook his head. “I’m fine, but damn, that was a rush.”

“Now what?” said Megan.

Voices and footsteps filled the air. Drew looked up, seeing a horde of people — maybe in the hundreds or thousands — at the edge of the city and walking in their direction.

Drew pushed himself into a standing position and watched the people coming closer. “What’s going on?”

“These are your people to train. They are the first to arrive. The second wave will be a larger population,” answered Mya.

“Train them to do what?” asked Megan.

“To be a decent Human Being.”

Drew shrugged. He had no idea how to be such a person. “I’ll need help.”

Mya dipped her head. “That’s why I’m here. You’ll need a lot of help.” She smiled and put out her hands. Lily and Damion grabbed a hold of her fingers and began laughing, jumping, and playing.

Drew shot Megan a look. “We’re supposed to teach these people?”

“The first lesson, Drew, is joy.” Mya spread her arms out and spun in a circle. “And don’t worry,” she screamed in delight. “The Federation of Light is sending down a school. They’ll be teaching us how to get along not only with each other, but with an entire galactic race of peoples. We have a lot to learn.”

“Alright,” said Drew. He put his arm around Megan’s lower back. “I guess…spin?” Drew twirled her around, grinning.

Megan let out a giggle, spinning around with him. “This is odd.”

Drew slowed down. “Hold on. We need to welcome those people.”

“They can welcome themselves. Just tell them we aren’t going to teach them anything until we get some good rest and some damn good food,” replied Megan.

“They’re almost here, so you tell them yourself. You’re good at that.”

Megan playfully rolled her eyes, something Drew was finding adorable. “Is that how it’s going to be? I do the hard work, you do the playing? Remember —”

Drew put his index finger up and smiled. “Remember what? Remember that kiss that you gave me in the Andes?”

Megan bit her lower lip. “It was sweet.”

He pulled her in, locking his eyes on hers. “Yes, it was.” He leaned his lips toward hers. Megan leaned in as well, touching her soft lips against his. They closed their eyes and kissed long and hard. The lowering sun’s pink and orange hues highlighted and shadowed them across the Montana landscape.

Mya ran up to Drew and wrapped her arms around his leg. “Welcome to your new life, Drew. Here, you will be happy. Here, you will grow and cherish every day of your life from this moment and beyond.”

Drew opened his eyes. Mya flashed him her pearly white teeth. He tussled her hair with his hand. “You’re incredible, do you know that?”

“So are you,” she replied. “So are you.”

38

Unknown

Jaxx shot like a streak of lightning through the apex of another pyramid, penetrating the thick crystal capstone and into a chamber deep inside.

He landed hard on a granite slab stone atop a sarcophagus. He bounced off of it and landed chest first on a limestone floor.

He slowly stood, slapping his palms together. “That hurt.”

He dusted himself. It was cold and dark inside. He figured he was inside a queen’s chamber. But on which planet? Earth? Planet Leonia or Taiyo? Maybe an entirely different planet far off in a different sector of the galaxy?

He walked around, his hands in front of him, palms out, making sure not to bump into anything hard or sharp. He stopped, his hands touching a cold, flat surface.

He placed hand over hand, moving around the room, knowing that there had to be a door in here somewhere. He nodded when the wall changed from thick limestone to granite.

That had to be the door.

He searched for something — a trigger, a handle, anything. He jerked back when a click echoed. The granite slowly spun and light began pouring in, along with a cold draft.

He stepped through the opening, noticing a thin, shallow, descending tunnel with copper rods lining it. He dared not touch them. If they were active, he would be a dead man.

“Dead?” he said, shrugging his shoulders, chuckling. With Chi running through his body, his toes and fingers tingling, it felt like nothing could kill him.

He sat and shimmied down the tunnel, quickly making it to the tunnel’s end. He touched his boots on thin snow and crawled out of the pyramid and stood. With a deep breath, he smiled.

Callisto.

But where? East Rise? Flood of Dawn? Maybe near Slade’s human factory farm that he, Rivkah, Fox, and the rest, took over, freeing the children from their impending doom?

He nodded. “Here we go.”

Walking toward a hill, he noted the hills around him looked familiar. Behind him was a path to East Rise.

Cresting the hill, he rubbed his hands together for warmth, and halted. In front of him was a vast city surrounded by walls and highlighted by terraforming lamps left by the Kelhoon invasion. This was Numah Farms, which hopefully had been renamed. For a short stint, Slade held children here against their will, fattening them up to feed to the Kelhoon.

Thank God it never came to the feeding. They had been rescued in time.

His boots crunched upon light snow as he trekked forward and down the hill. Eventually, he made it to the walls and glared up at the towers.

Good. They were empty. Hopefully, it meant that no threat currently resided on Callisto at the moment.

He walked to the big, grand entrance, grateful the doors were open.

There he stared inside. The city was quiet. Vacant. Perchance abandoned?

Then movement. Someone walked into a building. He lifted his hand, shouting, “Hey!”

Without hearing Jackson, the person stepped inside and shut the door.

Dropping his hands, he made his way toward the building, ambling down a long, unused four-lane street. At the building’s steps, he glanced around.

It was a ghost town, and if it wasn’t, it sure as hell was quiet as one.

Up the steps, he came to two large glass doors. He placed his hand on the door handle and pulled.

Talking, laughter…children.

“Listen up, ladies and gentlemen…,” a man’s voice said. And for all the shits and giggles in Jaxx’s life, it sounded like Fox.

“We aren’t ladies or gentlemen,” came a kid. “We are children.”

“Well, whooped-dee-doo,” replied the older man.

Jaxx continued forward, heading toward the voices. He came to a hallway and veered left.

He came to a room and leaned up against the doorway. To his shock, there was Fox sitting in the middle of the room and a handful of children in front of him. Was this a classroom? He hoped not because to have Captain Richard Fox as your teacher would be a nightmare.

Fox held up a holopad. A holographic image shot out and displayed in front of him. “You see the damn ‘A’ kids? Yeah, that’s an ‘A’. Learn it.”

A man in the back raised his hand.

Fox turned off the holopad. “Yes, Mr. President?”

Jaxx gulped. Was that President Craig Martelle? Jaxx had forgotten all about that guy. “If you want, I can take over. The kids might like a different, more calm approach.”

A woman’s voice echoed down the hall. He lurched back and shoved off from the doorway, his heart lightening.

Rivkah?

He quickly strode down the hall, seeing a classroom with the entrance wide open.

Reaching the doorway, a large grin grew on his face.

Rivkah sat, her back to Jaxx. She held a book and softly read to several children. She was happy. She was calm. Most importantly, she was the love of his life.

He knocked on the door frame.

Rivkah put her hand up, keeping her eyes on the book. “Hold on.”

Jaxx knocked a second time.

Rivkah slammed the book on her lap and took a deep breath. “Excuse me. Who would interrupt at a —” Turning, she blinked a few times. A frown crept on her lips as if her eyes deceived her. “J-Jaxx?”

Jaxx nodded. “It’s me, Rivkah.”

Almost as if in caution, or if she’d witnessed a ghost, she rose slowly, dropping the book on the floor. “I —”She put her hands out, her eyes welling up. Jaxx stepped forward and into the room. They met halfway and she put her hands on his cheeks, sinking her lips onto his. They embraced, kissing. Jaxx pulled her in tightly.

Quiet laughter filled the room. Rivkah pulled away and glanced at her students. “This will be a second.” She pulled Jaxx into the hallway and shut the door. “How —”

Jaxx pressed her against a wall and kissed her longer, deeper, their breaths coming fast and heavy.

“What the hell do we have here?”

Jaxx glanced down the hallway. It was Fox, his arms crossed, his eyes penetrating Jaxx’s like Jaxx was still the double-crossing traitor Fox wanted to rip apart.

President Craig Martelle came around the doorway. His eyes widened, then narrowed in on Fox. He put his hand on Fox’s shoulder. “Now, Fox…”

Fox swiped Craig’s arm away and walked toward Jaxx, chin down, eyes forward.

Jaxx unlocked from Rivkah and activated his Chi. “Not now, Richard.”

Fox marched faster, closer, and curled his hands into fists.

About ten steps away, Fox’s downturned expression lifted. He uncurled his fists and put his arms out. “Jaxxy-boy!”

Jaxx, let out a hefty breath. “Holy shit. I thought you were going to try and kick my ass.”

They wrapped their arms around each other and embraced in a bear hug. Fox lifted Jaxx off the floor and then back down. He released and slapped Jaxx’s shoulder. “I can’t believe you’re back.”

Jaxx eyed the hallway and everything around the building. “What’s going on? Is this a school?”

Rivkah interlocked her fingers in Jaxx’s, nodding. “Yes. We’re teaching the children. Fox here is having a go at it, but I don’t think the kids like him…at all.”

“They hate him,” said Craig. Seeing Jaxx’s expression, he put his hands up. “I’m not a bad guy anymore.”

“Says you,” chimed Fox. “We have our eyes on you. You mess up once, and into the brig you go.”

“Shut it, Fox,” responded Rivkah. “Craig has been a valuable asset. He’s more than changed my mind about having him here, helping us rebuild Callisto.”

“Where’s the rest of the Atlanteans?” inquired Jaxx.

Rivkah leaned against Jaxx. “Rebuilding their cities. And holy shit are they fast. They’ve gifted us this city, though. We’ve renamed this town, Abdu, after our Leonian friend who gave his life to save us.”

“And it was well deserved,” came another voice.

Jaxx twisted around, seeing a beautiful, glowing Leonian heading his way. It was Zara, the leader of the Leonians. She dipped her head, her cat facial features shifting in what Jaxx hoped was a smile. Her tail wagged back and forth.

“Welcome back, Jaxx,” said Zara. “It’s good to see your peach-fuzz face again.” She stopped a few feet in front of him, leaned on one leg and crossed her arms.

“She’s the principal,” said Craig.

“I insisted on it,” replied Zara, twitching her whiskers.

“Now what?” said Rivkah. “How long are you here?”

Jaxx bit the side of his lip, thinking. “I don’t know. For the rest of my life?”

“Well,” said Rivkah, winking, “then we have a lot of catching up to do.” She eyed Zara. “Take over my class for the day? Or the week? I don’t care. Jaxx and I are going on a much-needed vacation.”

“Vacation?” replied Jaxx. “Where to?”

“A week of doing nothing for a change. And, you know, lots of kissing. And, I mean…lots. Like I said, we have catching up to do.”

Rivkah led Jaxx forward, hand in hand, and exited the building. Outside, the fresh air breezed across their bodies, the terraforming lamps warmed their skin, and the Jupiter light filled the horizon.

Jaxx wrapped his arm around Rivkah, staring into Jupiter’s marvelous colors. “I can get used to this.”

Rivkah nodded. “Me too. And we will.”

The End

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Starfighter: Freedom Star Book 1

Gratitude

Thank you very much for taking the time to read all five books in the Ascendant Saga. This concludes Jaxx’s adventures. It was a wonderful ride, to say the least. From Jaxx and all the characters, big and small, have a wonderful day, an incredible afternoon, a stupendous evening, and most importantly, remember to dream big and shoot for the stars.

Brandon Ellis