The Complete Atlantis Series, Books 1 - 5: Ascendant Saga

by Ellis, Brandon

  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.