Indian Ocean, twenty miles outside of Somalian waters – June 8, 2043
Ali Omar Biixi watched silently as his White Sails gathered about him, their skiffs forming a patchwork squadron of indistinct bobbing shapes in the predawn darkness.
He had received notification only a few minutes ago to begin assembling his men in preparation. That simple message had been delivered by way of an encoded text to one of the three mobile scroll phones originally left aboard their stunning gift.
Sometimes, Ali forgot that his world had changed. But the sleek profile of the motor launch—hidden away under tarpaulin sheets back at their home jetty—always brought back to him how high the stakes now were. That craft was worth a small fortune, as indeed were its contents. And yet they’d been freely given by an unknown benefactor who wanted a favor in return. A favor that might cost us more than we are willing to give!
Ali was decidedly unsettled.
I’ve already seen how cold our employer can be. That poor lackey who delivered the offer and the vessel itself into our hands was forced to commit suicide. It was a shocking display of control. And I have no doubt that if we fail to achieve our objective, a similar fate awaits us all.
The depth of cruelty displayed that day often caused Ali to ponder just who their sponsor’s actual targets were and what they could possibly have done to warrant such retribution. They must have huge resources and a vast intelligence system to pull something like this off. How else would they have found out about Assad and what he can do . . .?
. . .And how long have they been watching us?
Yes. Such things had troubled Ali repeatedly over the intervening weeks, and he was fervently beginning to wish they’d just taken the weapons and left well alone.
But it was too late now. He’d received the first of three sets of instructions, then watched incredulously as the phone sparked and fizzed, before disintegrated in his hand, succumbing to the hidden Trojans encoded into its software. Still keen to protect their anonymity, eh? I wonder how far they’ll go to ensure every single loose end is cut once this is all over.
A chill ran down his spine. Ali felt he already knew the answer to that question. We were foolish to accept this offer. I realize that now. Already the consequences are beginning to tighten about us like a noose.
He glanced at his watch. Only two hours left until sunrise.
An odd time to have us assemble? Unless they expect Assad to do all the work! I’d better gather the elders and start selecting my final team. Oh! And then get the second scroll phone. I dread to think what would happen if we ran afoul of the schedule.
As he headed astern, Ali was graced with an afterthought that exemplified why he had been nicknamed—The Sage. Calling one of his oldest advisors to his side, he said, “Sylvester? Join me on the command boat, will you? I have a special task for you. And you alone!”
For the next twenty minutes, Ali laid out the details of what he wanted his friend of over twenty years to do. Once finished, he immediately sent him on his way to prepare. At least I can ensure Assad gets out of there if things get too hairy. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, and there’s no way I’ll let him end up paying for my mistakes.
*
Naomi couldn’t believe she was here again so soon.
It was the second time in just five years that she had entered the catacombs. On the previous occasion, she’d fulfilled the role of Supporter for her mentor, Anatt Yasin, on her magnification to near godhood. An event filled with all sorts of surprises and startling revelations!
Today, Naomi would find out for herself what it was like to transcend, for she was the principal candidate and the hour of reckoning was at hand.
Who would have imagined it, eh?
Naomi smiled as soon as she uttered the thought, for she knew the answer to that particular question now: The Overlord!
Only, he’d done much more than just imagine it.
Somehow, he had been aware all along of Naomi’s latent capability for transcension and how it had been stunted by trial and circumstance; strangled of the nurture it needed to bloom. If left as it was—festering at the center of her psyche—it would have eventually atrophied entirely, denying her the opportunity of achieving her full potential, or indeed, perceiving the empyrean reality of true meta existence. So, in a cunning display of strategy, he guaranteed her inclusion in another aspirant’s ceremony. In doing so, Naomi’s withered psi-well received the necessary stimulus it needed, supercharging it back to vibrant life.
And the rest is legendary! Even if I do say so myself.
Naomi took in the details of her environment as the party descended. The corridor was just as she remembered: the same ruddy glow, pulsing to the arcane heartbeat of the ancient rock about them; the same sense of anticipation, building with every step she took; the same feeling of giddy detachment the farther she went, as the unique strata muted her power and dulled her growing urgency.
Looking deep within her soul, Naomi saw a tiny oxyacetylene nova burn through one of the mental constraints that had kept her expanding nexus at bay for so long. It was failing. The dam had sprung its first leak, and soon, the pressure would exceed its capacity to withhold the raging storm.
Leading the way, Victoria lengthened her stride, as if acknowledging the sudden change.
Naomi was grateful Victoria was acting as the Shepherd today. She felt an affinity—both to the woman herself, and her family—like no other. And from Naomi’s point of view, having Victoria there would make the forthcoming experience that much easier to bear, especially as her chosen Supporter had stood aside at the last moment.
For some reason, Corrine Jackson had reneged on her promise, and Naomi could only guess why. She had been replaced by none other than the Lord Marshal.
Naomi didn’t know much about him. But she would—and soon! The shared intimacy of what was to come would grant him some insightful memories . . . as well as one or two eye-popping disclosures once he witnessed what was in Victoria’s mind. What will he make of their history? Or the fact that I knew? I can’t wait to find out.
Further consideration of the matter was forgotten as Naomi became alarmingly aware of the raging beast within her. Having experienced its first taste of freedom, it wanted more.
Beating against the bulwark of her barriers, it roared, demanding instant gratification and release.
Naomi could feel it wouldn’t be denied for much longer. Evidently, so did Victoria, for she quickened her pace again.
Despite the growing urgency, Naomi had a funny thought. Hey! I wonder if I’ll ever walk this way again, as Shepherd next time. Has anyone ever fulfilled all three roles before? Is it even allowed?
*
As far as onlookers were aware, Angelika Papadakos and her team looked like any other group of people about to set off on a day’s hike along the trails of the Santa Anna Mountains. Four ordinary couples dressed in windcheaters, each person was laden down by a rucksack packed with the necessary gear to keep them safe from the elements and any unforeseen predators they might encounter.
However, closer inspection of their equipment and the two vehicles they had arrived in would have raised more than a few eyebrows.
In amongst the backpacks, tents, and camping gear, each truck carried four strange looking cylinders. Battleship gray pipes that seemed to fold in and out of sight the more you stared at them. Alongside each device, was a collection of metallic, bracket-style clamps with glowing crystals positioned around their outer circumferences. Those gems flared and pulsed at irregular intervals in response to the strange acoustic emanations radiating from within the cylinders themselves.
Standing around their vehicles, the party appeared to be idly chatting as they waited for the parking lot to empty of other visitors. And indeed, that was the case, for once the morning rush had left and the dust had settled, they suddenly adopted a more urgent air.
Throwing back the tarp in the rearmost truck, Angelika removed one of the pipes with its attachments, and said, “I know you’ve been briefed, but I’m going to run through the sequence one final time before we go anyway . . . So listen in!”
Placing the cylinder on the ground, she directed their attention to a control pad incorporated into the casing halfway along its length, and continued, “Once we teleport to the site of each asperity, you have to attach three collar-mines to every tube. It shouldn’t be difficult, as each clamp has a magnetic seal. When you’ve completed that task, depress the green button here. That arms the mines. Sixty seconds after activation, it will also deploy a gravity bubble encompassing a one mile radius from its own proximity. That will prevent any earthquakes from manifesting before we’re ready to trigger them.
“At this point, the device will also begin emitting hypersonic waves that will increase tectonic instability exponentially. Because those waves propagate through the subspace medium, they will hamper your ability to teleport, so it’s essential you’ve finished prepping the apparatus before then!
“To avoid getting royally screwed, press the amber button, here, ten seconds after you flip the green switch. Doing so will channel the ensuing energy build-up directly into the crystal chambers. You don’t want to be anywhere near them when that happens, so—immediately after you’ve activated the amber button—take a deep breath and do the same with the red one. That will scramble the receivers to their preprogrammed frequencies, and initiate the release of antimatter particles into the explosive gel.”
Angelika made eye contact with every member of her team and started counting down on the fingers of one hand. “To recap: teleport on site and attach your collars; press the green button and wait ten seconds; press the amber button; then finally, hit the red one and hightail it outta there.
“Are there any questions?”
None were forthcoming.
“Good! You all know the drill. Timon? You and Electra are to proceed to the coordinates within the Santa Monica Mountains. Emily, you’ve got Mike. Position your cylinders within the designated sites here in the Santa Anna range. The rest of you, you’re with me up in San Gabriel.”
Nobody spoke as she handed out a tube and selection of clamps to each person.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“Are you ready? On my mark! Three, two, one . . . Mark!”
An instant later, and they were gone, little realizing how far-reaching the consequences of their actions would be.
*
Esther was enjoying herself immensely, and it showed.
Over the past week, she had made firm friends in at least six different departments. But in all honesty, that wasn’t surprising! Not only had Esther been keen to show an interest in other people’s work, but she had also thrown herself into the ethic of this new world from the outset by fully immersing herself in station life.
For all that, it took an amazing stroke of luck to boost events along.
On her very first day, Esther had been engrossed in the welcome tour, when she noticed several Guardian and civilian technicians crowded around a power relay unit situated in the main utility tunnel leading to one of the outer docking arms. Evidently, this particular panel kept fritzing out on a regular basis. Though it wasn’t essential to routine operations, it was nevertheless causing a great deal of aggravation to maintenance crews, who were growing tired of returning to this same junction again and again.
Always inquisitive, Esther had paused to watch them at work.
They proved to be very thorough, stripping and replacing the integrated Quad- RAM assembly a number of times in an effort to find a solution. However, as painstakingly methodical as they were, she espied they made one simple error. Their increasing frustration had blinkered them into treating the symptoms as opposed to looking for the cause!
Sidling over to them, she suggested they might find their guilty gremlins by looking outside the station.
Intrigued by her statement, the Guardian leading the team did just that, and a detailed survey of the environs in close proximity to the star base revealed the cause of the recurring problem.
Solaris 1 had been constructed in a location where the gravitational influence of Kalliste and her two moons, Callistran, and Theron, combined to form a void pocket. A phenomenon equivalent to the Doldrums experienced at sea. While this afforded an ideal reception area for incoming vessels free of strong tidal shears, there had been an unforeseen side-effect. Three bubbles—hard to detect—had formed within that zone, very similar in effect to a Null Vortex. Nothing would work in them. Even worse, from time to time, fluctuating gravity compressions caused those bubbles to swell and burst. When they did, they sprayed zero matter into the interstellar medium.
Fortunately, the bubbles were very small, encompassing an area only several yards in diameter. But such was the pressure released when they ruptured, that null particles ended up being sprayed for nearly half a mile in every direction.
As serendipity would have it, the leading edge of this particular docking arm was just within the fallout radius of one such anomaly. Thus the continuing dilemma! No matter how many times the relays were replaced, they would be rendered inoperable almost immediately.
Thanks to Esther’s prompting, scanners had subsequently been adjusted to detect this incredibly rare occurrence, and all three hotspots were soon located, mapped, and marked by repulsor buoys. Station thrusters were then deployed to gently nudge the base to a new position free of the residual dispersion zone.
Watching the process from beginning to end, Esther had also recorded how long it took to move Solaris 1 into her new mooring. Ninety minutes!
There, at last, was the golden opportunity she’d been waiting for. One that would allow her to make her play. But she didn’t rush, deeming it better to wait for the Deputy Marshal to broach the subject.
She didn’t have to wait long.
At dinner in Anatt Yasin’s private quarters later that evening, the small gathering had only just finished their entrée when the commander turned to speak directly to her:
“You made quite an impression this afternoon, Esther. First day here, and already you swatted a bug in the works that had my technicians scratching their heads for months. How did you cotton on to the idea of where to look?”
Esther ensured to make light of the matter. “I wish I could say it’s because I’m a top-notch ultrasensor with superlative scanning skills. But the truth is far more mundane. I’m quite sensitive to the presence of most kinds of energy, you see. And what with this entire system being full of weird and wonderful new sensations, it’s been a delight to savor virtually everything I come across. So, when I saw the maintenance gang working on the relay assembly, I automatically reached out to sample the vibes. Only there weren’t any! All I got was . . . how can I say . . . a speckled egg smattering of aftertastes? That gave me a clue the problem must be down to locale in some way.”
“Fortunate for us you were on hand to spot it, yes?”
“I may be a scientist,” Esther replied, offhandedly—extending the bait, “but I tend to look at things from a different perspective. It’s why Mister Yeung uses me as a problem avoider, as opposed to problem solver.”
“Oh really?” Anatt replied, “So tell me. What situations have you observed around our little facility that might need . . . avoiding then?”
Esther struggled to conceal her elation behind stygian barricades. “Well, I know it’s not really my place. . .”
“Go on!”Anatt urged, “Speak your mind. I encourage the free expression of ideas.”
“. . .Okay then. It’s just that I noticed it took an awful long time to move Solaris out from the affected area. That highlights an Achilles' heel which needs to be addressed.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is still a relatively new setup, right? And while you Guardians have been here for some years now, you can’t escape the fact that—when it comes to the evolving rhythms of a solar system—things tend to work on a more grandiose scale. Natural cycles, for instance, can’t be measured in decades. They take centuries to assess. Or even a millennia.
“That reminded me of the Abaddon affair. It was an out of the blue semi-regular occurrence separated by hundreds of thousands of years that nearly wiped us out. This star system is bigger. Its asteroid belt is way more extensive and the outer supergiant planets are almost as big as our Sun. What’s to say something like that might not happen here?”
“So what are you suggesting exactly?”
“As I mentioned, I have a . . . an affinity to different forms of energy. The moment I arrived, I sensed a huge source of dynamism within this facility you aren’t even using yet. And here’s the thing. Though it’s nowhere near as strong as what you have powering the hyper gate, I can tell they’re related in some way. With so much potential at your disposal, I don’t know why you’ve not considered using it more effectively.”
“Define . . . more effectively.” Anatt stressed, leaning toward her across the table.
Shrugging as though unconcerned, Esther started reeling in her catch. “Well . . . look how long it took to move Solaris One to her new berth. Just imagine dragging your feet like that with Son of Abaddon bearing down on you. I know you have some pretty nifty armaments and shielding deployed about the base, but don’t kid yourself. Abaddon proved how easy it is to get your ass handed to you on a plate. It would be criminal for that to happen here, when it could so easily be averted.”
“Averted?” The Deputy Marshal’s eyes began to glow. “How would you do that?”
“Simple! I don’t know the ins and outs of your gate system, but the physicist in me tells me you must employ some form of corresponding anchoring beacon at both ends of the wormhole to counter the effects of galactic drift, right?”
“Riiight.”
“Well, seeing as you have a similar—if weaker source—here on Solaris One. Why don’t you have one of your strategists determine two or three alternate locations the base could occupy during an emergency, and establish new docking sites there? Then, if the need arose, you could just teleport the entire facility to a safer harbor in a fraction of the time!
“Obviously, you’d have to establish a whole new set of jump protocols. You know. Alert procedures, security bulkhead lockdowns, duty of care . . . oh, and not forgetting the provision of regular drills to hone response and mustering times at the appropriate assembly points. It’d be a lot of work, but well worth the effort.”
By now, the whole of Anatt Yasin’s aura had become infused with a coral colored effervescence.
“That is an excellent idea, Esther. With my ace fixer away at the moment, I could do with someone like you around. It’s such a pity that you’re only here on a temporary permit. What I could. . . ”
The Deputy Marshal sucked in through her teeth. “. . .Tell you what, meet me on the main operations deck at nine tomorrow morning—K-Time—and I’ll introduce you to a few section heads who I know are itching to pick your brains. Deal?”
“Deal!” Esther readily agreed, shaking on it.
That had been a week ago now!
Since then, Esther had been invited to tour the Medi-Labs, Environmental Control, the Habitat Center, and the Defensive Armaments Complex. In each case, she made sure to suggest one or two radical ideas that improved operating efficiency many times over. Correspondingly, Esther was pleasantly surprised to discover how candidly exercising her creative talents for once, had proven so invigorating.
Rose tinted spectacles aside, she never lost sight of her objective.
It’s a shame I’m enjoying myself so much. I’m almost going to regret blowing these fuckers to kingdom come the first chance I get!
Then, just this very morning, another breakthrough occurred. Grand Master Hiro Nagasaki had called at her suite to see if she would be interested in delaying her scheduled departure for Helion City, to help him out on an important project.
As it transpired, Grand master Nagasaki was the chief engineer of Solaris 1, and had been tasked to install a new upgraded power cell into the main reactor, one that would grant the base greater offensive and defensive capabilities. Having heard of Esther’s knack for thinking outside of the box, he was hoping she’d be willing to add her insight to the proceedings.
Needless to say, Esther didn’t need long to think about her answer.
*
Simon Cooper was not a happy man.
A pity, seeing as the day—indeed, the entire week—had started off far better than anyone could have anticipated!
Deputy Marshal Yasin had been greatly impressed by Esther’s innovative ideas. So much so, that she’d virtually rolled out the red carpet to the entire Yeung Technologies team. Esther had received invitations from just about every primary section there was on board the space station. Yeung had been wined and dined and shown around all the main settlements on each of the three major landmasses of Kalliste. And Simon himself had been extended the exceptional courtesy of being allowed ground-side before his induction phase was anywhere near complete.
Of course, his own official profile had helped.
Yeung had ensured his Fallen comrades were properly registered and legally certified under the auspices of the Psychic Law & Order Bill. Because of that, Simon was listed as possessing a marked proficiency when it came to hiking, field craft, and extreme survival training. Additionally, his extrasensory assay revealed strong telepathic, telekinetic, and shape-shifting abilities. This combination of expertise and talent had vouchsafed his speedy decent into the jungles of Viridian, where he was allowed to indulge in his love of naturalism in all its ecological glory.
Or so it was assumed!
On his first few guided forays, Simon was careful only to display those features of his psi-well the examiners expected. They were, after all, inherently particular to the real Simon Cooper.
His ruse had worked like a dream.
Because Viridian contained the least deadly predators of all three continents, Simon was quickly deemed suitable for limited trips on his own. His knowledge, skill level in the field, and abilities appeared more than sufficient to keep him out of trouble. The addition of a teleport band—similar in function to the rings employed by some Guardians—meant both the Inquisitors and Marshals felt he would be unlikely to encounter anything he couldn’t deal with. As such, he had been set free to roam as he wanted three days ago.
Great news. . .
Except that it wasn’t!
Simon immediately set about his mission, confident that it would be brought to a speedy conclusion thanks to two Mimic Drones—sophisticated pieced of hardware that duplicated a wide range of bio-signs. Originally designed by Esther to throw Guardian Inquisitors off their trail, they had decided this would be a prime opportunity to put them to another use.
One had been fashioned into the likeness a large wasp. Highly mobile, it was capable of covering two hundred square miles of terrain before needing to be recharged. In this environment, it was perfect for his needs.
The other was tailored to be incorporated into an individual’s complexus, so they registered as an alternate form of life entirely.
Programming the wasp with his own psi-dentity, Simon set it loose, then disabled his teleport band and shed his human form. Over the next forty-eight hours, the wasp covered twenty miles a day at an average speed of two miles per hour. To anyone checking, it would look as if he had been enjoying a stress free ramble through his idea of arboreal heaven.
In reality, Simon was on an entirely different continent, pursuing his target through the southwestern jungles of Nerada!
At that stage, all was going well. Joshua Drake was all alone, and one of several youngsters completing a Guardian survival course that required them to live off the land without the slightest recourse to their psychic abilities.
To ensure fair play, the area was heavily scanned by orbiting satellites.
Simon had macrospatial translated into the vicinity to avoid registering on those sensors, and maintained an indistinct form until the second Mimic Drone was activated. This one emitted the life-signs of a Hoopy, a large apelike creature indigenous to the whole of southern Nerada. Known for its ability to move quickly through the canopy, Simon thought it the perfect disguise to allow him to move swiftly and without drawing attention.
Thus it was—with at least a three day window ahead of him—Simon was confident he would be able to complete his mission and get away without being detected.
That was two and a half days ago!
At first, Simon was amazed at the tenacity and stamina of the thirteen-year-old human child. Now he was just plain annoyed.
What is it with this kid? Is he some additional freak Sachael-Za-Ad’hem cooked up in a laboratory to torment me? Two and a half days I’ve been chasing him. Two and a half friggerty days! Toiling, sweating, and heaving myself through some of the most insane vegetation imaginable. And the little bastard’s still managing to stay ahead of me.
No. Simon was not a happy man.
The child had proven unusually resilient. What’s more, Simon had the damndest feeling he was being watched.
Or followed.
Or both.
And yet, every time he stopped to scope the steaming sea of silver-blue foliage stretching off into the distance, there was never anything there.
But the sensation refused to go away.
Get a grip! He’s just one human teenager caged to his limited flesh. No match for one of my caliber. The sooner I get this done, the sooner I can get out of this hellhole.
Casting yet another anxious glance behind, Simon abandoned his backpack and quickened his pace. One way or another, he was determined to bring this issue to a close!