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 S
tar 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.
The Complete Atlantis Series, Books 1 - 5: Ascendant Saga Page 8
