Despite the fact they were billions of miles apart, the image on the CDS screen was crystal clear. Esther was a little put out, for she still hadn’t managed to fathom how the Guardians could do that yet. The hyper-gate portal itself was closed, but somehow their hosts were managing to relay a super compressed info-packet through the geodetic curvature of hyper-space without any evidence of signal degradation.
Impressive! I wonder what toys I’d be playing with now . . . or even have been responsible for inventing had I played along with Sachael-Za-Ad’hem’s schemes.
Alas, she didn’t have time for wallowing over what might have been. Her boss needed the latest mission update . . . and she was the bearer of glad tidings.”
“Hello, Esther,” Yeung began, “I take it all is well?”
“Very well, thank you, Sir,” she fawned, for the benefit of those who might be listening in. “Today I’ve been invited to the initialization of the new power core. The base commander has been kind enough to implement some of my recommendations and quite a crowd will be gathering, by all accounts, to see if they actually work.”
Yeung’s gaze intensified. “And do you think things will go as planned?”
“Oh, I’ve got every confidence things will go exactly as planned.”
“That’s good to hear,” Yeung replied, the gentlest of smiles softening his demeanor. “It looks as if I’ll have a busy day myself.”
Esther got the hint.
Holding up a data crystal, she said, “These are my latest reports. You’ll be pleased to hear I may have secured future contracts for terraforming operations, though they will have to wait for existing settlements to begin expanding into virgin territory.”
“Excellent. Excellent! And was the proposal for the subsurface processing plant as popular as we’d anticipated?”
“I believe that was the clincher, Sir. Anatt assured me that once we’ve provided detailed schematics of the various facilities we have on offer, an official and legally binding agreement will be forthcoming. She knows our safety specs are second-to-none, so if we live up to our end of the bargain, it’s a done deal.”
The steely glint returned to Yeung’s eyes. “I do so love to hear the words done and deal in the same sentence.”
Once again, Esther picked up on Yeung’s inference.
She added, “Well, I hope to send similar sentiments your way soon. I don’t know how things are your end, Sir, but I’ve got some hefty calculations to complete before the thirty-two hundred hours deadline. So I’m going to have to crack on and. . . ?”
“Thirty-two hundred hours?” Yeung interrupted. “Pah! It’s difficult enough as it is for an old man to get his head around the twenty-four hour clock, yet alone the vagaries of a thirty-nine hour day. When do I need to be ready here?”
“Hang on a second, Sir. . .” Esther replied, seemingly off balance from the unexpected question. “. . .That works out as eleven. . . No! Wait a minute. Forget eleven! That will be ten o’clock in the evening, tomorrow. GMT of course. So don’t forget to factor in any adjustments you need to make because of your location at that time.”
“You see?” Yeung crowed, “If you can’t get your young and active mind around it, how do you expect a gentleman of my advanced years to understand all this nonsense? Just let me know how it goes when you’ve completed what you need to do. I have a feeling I might be a little tied up myself.”
“Will do, Sir!”
Signing off, Esther couldn’t believe how smoothly the exchange had gone.
Not only had she managed to update Yeung on her anticipated time of action, but he had confirmed the operation was a go and that he would coordinate events on his side of the gate.
Now all she had to do was catch a hold of Simon.
For some reason, he was still mincing about down on the surface when he should have been back on the star base hours ago. How long does it take to kill a little boy?
Mind you, it gives me a chance to work out how the Guardians get their damned signals to penetrate the infinity curvature of a closed event horizon. Once I crack it, I might be able to open us a back door to escape through for when things start getting hairy!
*
Now over an hour in, the party was in full swing. Music played. Some people sang along or accompanied the more vocal aspirants on improvised instruments. Others danced. A few were content to just sit there and watch the world go by.
The mood was vibrant and relaxed. And well it should be. A huge bonfire had been arranged in the middle clearing of the village. Wild pig was roasting over charcoal, and Ethiopian gin was in plentiful supply.
Assad was festooned in garlands and rice beads, and from where Ali was sitting with the elders, appeared to be thoroughly enjoying his sixteenth birthday party.
At this moment, Assad was leading a group of his best friends toward the gift his mother and father had brought to memorialize the occasion: a brand new, shiny, black Nissan Trailbuster SUV.
When he wasn’t fishing, Assad was like any other boy his age. Boasting about cars and girls. He’d learned to drive not long after he had mastered skippering a boat, so it was only natural he’d want to prove his prowess both on and off the water. Ali actively encouraged his son to be adept at both. It was a sign of their wealth and success.
But girls? They were another matter entirely. And a distraction!
While many people in other poverty stricken villages eked out a living from barely standing tin huts, such destitution was not evident here. Ali looked after his kinfolk. Comfortable, well fed and happy men were better motivated. They acted more professionally. And the White Sails were known for their expertise in capturing prizes no one else could.
This community had proper, brick built homes, with electricity and internet connections. Running water too! They were prosperous. But that had its downside, especially on occasions like this when outsiders were welcome to attend public events.
The aforementioned distractions.
Neighboring hijab-clad girls lined the perimeter of the fire pit area. Most had their shining, flame-lit eyes fixed on Assad. Until he peered their way, that is. Then they would act all coy and stare down at the ground.
Regardless of their behavior, it was known they viewed pirates as lucrative marriage mates in much the same way as they had once looked on Somali’s tribal leaders and warlords. It was all about one-upmanship. Especially in the marriage stakes, where a girl could secure financial security for their families, if they caught the fancy of the right boy.
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Assad, as son to a clan chief—and the White Sails Clan at that—was the fish all mothers wanted their daughters to land.
Ali jumped, his deliberations interrupted by an urgent drumming sensation against his chest. Where . . . ?
It took him a moment to realize the mobile scroll phone within the inner pocket of his jacket had just this second received a text. Removing the offending item, he activated the screen and was stunned to find it wasn’t another mystery false alarm.
A set of longitudinal and latitudinal references blinked back at him.
Beneath them was a time and date. But . . . but that’s during the early hours of tomorrow morning! Why do our benefactors insist on being as disruptive as possible? They had us running around like flies on a carcass the other week. And for what? A piddly test run! Just to see how quickly we could mobilize and deploy. I had hoped to have fulfilled our end of the bargain by now so we could be free of them.
Ali knew the local waters like the back of his hand. The coordinates he had just received lay quite a distance outside their usual hunting grounds. To get there undetected would require them to leave within the hour.
Just in time too, it seems.
On this occasion, the heavy cloud of disruption looked to have a silver lining.
A particularly attractive young woman from a neighboring village was growing bolder. Making eyes at his son, she refused to lower her gaze and was flashing her winsome smile to stunning effect.
Assad had noticed and was starting to posture like a bantam rooster.
Shame!
He could see Assad obviously liked the girl. But she was from a poor family with no real influence. And her conduct in public showed she was definitely not the right material as far as his son was concerned.
Shouting across the celebrations, Ali began to call his men together.
Thank goodness we’ll have something to do that will keep him distracted for a while. Once we get back, I’ll make arrangements to have him formally introduced to someone more . . . suitable.
He won’t be happy, but at least it will keep the vultures at bay.
*
As transcensions went, this one would go down in history!
Four days they’d been here now. Four inextricably long, drawn out, relentless days, where the principle remained suspended, teetering at the cusp of dissolution. And still they waited for the esoteric flare that would signal the onset of the final blitz. A blazing assault that would at last rip through the only remaining barrier preventing the girl’s swollen nexus from reigning free.
A veteran of more than two dozen ceremonies, Victoria had always known the occasion would be unlike anything she’d ever witnessed before.
Naomi’s herculean underlying capabilities had been coaxed back into wakefulness some five years ago, after she had been exposed to the primary stimulus of a transmutation in progress. The Overlord had personally applied the orphic shackles of the MitaCom program to Naomi’s complexus shortly thereafter. In doing so, he ensured she would be able to manage the enhanced rate of her altered evolution.
And evolve she had.
Somehow, the MitaCom sequence had muted the immensely destructive elements of Naomi’s burgeoning talents, while siphoning through tantalizing aspects of her emerging hyper-well. Because of this, she had been able to expand way beyond the point at which her flesh would have atomized.
An incredible feat.
But Naomi was a remarkable human being, and everyone had been excited to see how her stupendous ability to accurately compartmentalize multiple events at once might factor into her transformation.
It was official.
There was no might about it, and Victoria was stunned by the implications.
The intimacy of the process engendered the sharing of some very personal, extremely powerful memories. That aspect had begun over ninety hours previously. At first, Victoria had been curious as to how Anil would react when a number of his suspicions regarding her origins, together with her relationship to Andrew and the Overlord, were finally highlighted.
She needn’t have worried.
Though he was initially alarmed, Anil’s scrutiny soon found something else much more interesting to dwell on, for it didn’t take long for Naomi’s supercharged senses to begin reliving the moment of Anatt Yasin’s transcension anew.
Together, they shared the other woman’s agony as she was repeatedly gripped by violent seizures; were burnt from head to toe by phantom gouts of tremendous energy radiating from every pore of the Deputy Marshal’s body; endured the abject misery of being turned inside out as the trigger point was breached. A progression every candidate had been forced to endure for centuries.
Until now!
Oh, the convulsions were there alright. Vicious throes that would have snapped the spine of just about anyone else Victoria knew. But along with them—as every torturous wave of suffering smashed over Naomi’s consciousness—something else had grown too.
An almost inhuman capacity for self awareness and control!
Usually, by this stage of the process, aspirants had expanded beyond their mortal constraints, and the slightest distraction could send them hurtling over the precipice. That’s when the risk of an augmented metapsychic blowout—otherwise known as going nova—was at its highest. The Shepherd would, therefore, be heavily engaged, mitigating the effects of the pain and struggling to keep the subject focused on the path to enlightenment.
Sharing the experience, the Supporter would likewise be exercising the utmost caution. Their role involved trying to remind the candidate of whom they were and preventing them from casting off the last vestiges of their humanity.
But that wasn’t happening here.
Naomi was guiding herself. And, by yanking back on the reins of devastating chaos, she was not only anchoring her sanity, but appeared to be forcing the hyper-energized surges erupting from her core to do her creative bidding.
Victoria and Anil were nigh on redundant.
Addressing Anil on his intimate mode, Victoria made a suggestion: I don’t need to tell you . . . this is unprecedented. What say we take advantage of the situation and try to meld with her? I can’t promise it’ll work, but if it does, it will mean we can share the experience on a level nobody thought was possible?
I don’t think there’ll be any doubt it will work, Victoria! Anil replied, his plexus glittering with gold and scarlet highlights: Look!
Incredulously, they turned their attention back to their charge.
Despite the cosmic forces ravaging her soul, Naomi was fully cognizant of her surroundings. It was clear she had also listened in on her friends’ supposedly private conversation and was indicating it would be a great idea for them to link with her.
Fuck me! Victoria blurted out: You . . . you’re in complete control! Naomi? Are you alright?
Staring directly at them through eyes that shone like miniature neutron stars, Naomi ignored the query and repeated her unprecedented invitation aloud: Come! Behold the future!
Victoria and Anil responded. Engaging in harmonic union, they rushed to be part of history in the making.
*
Simon Cooper fought the urge to scream at the top of his lungs!
While the Mimic Drone had done its job admirably, the same couldn’t be said for his strategy. The infernal child he was after had seen to that.
In his current apelike form, Simon had become accustomed to hard work and sustained effort. And yet, no matter how hard he tried, he hadn’t been able to close the gap. The boy was tireless. Hardly stopping, Joshua Drake had forged through the confusing wilderness as if its mere existence gave him some form of perverted boost. An added impetus as invigorating to his spirit as it was an anathema to Simon’s temper.
How the hell can the little shit move so quickly through this . . . this bewildering maze of vegetated spaghetti? It’s not like he’s native to this environment? Bollocking hell! I’m sure he must have found out I’m following him and is doing it just to annoy me!
Glancing skyward through a rare gap in the canopy, Simon checked again for signs of surveillance. And how long will my luck hold out?
As if on cue, Simon felt a slight tremble behind his eyeballs. He grunted and froze, fearing his masquerade had been discovered. A second later, he relaxed. Esther?
Gasping for breath, it took him a moment to digest the implications of the encoded one-way message. Already? Damn . . . I’d better get shifting! Especially if I want to make the escape window she’s managed to prize open.
Risking a stronger scan, Simon discerned his quarry two miles ahead. The youngster had just made a kill and appeared to be in the process of setting up camp to prepare his catch. Well hoo—fucking—ray! Thank you.
Hardly daring to breathe, he checked again.
Sure enough, Joshua looked intent on settling in to enjoy his first proper meal of the week. Ha! Perhaps he is only human after all.
Simon started forward, summoning his potential with every swing of his arms. So, let’s make this quick and clean. No theatrics. Just get in there, kill the boy and dispose of his body. As I do so, I’ll send the signal to detonate the wasp back in Viridian. That will draw attention away from here. Unlike the brat, they’ll still be monitoring my welfare. How sad that I should meet a sudden and mysterious end while exploring the darkest depths of a dangerous new world . . .
. . .Though in reality, my name will be just one of a lengthy list in tomorrow’s obituaries by the time Esther has finished. All in all, a good day to die then!
That gave him pause for thought.
I hope Yeung remembered to arrange a suitable new identity for me. I’ve become quite accustomed to being Simon Cooper. The prestige attached to his name allowed me a great deal of latitude that will be hard to match.