Spirits of the Earth: The Complete Series: (A Post-Apocalyptic Series Box Set: Books 1-3)

by Milo James Fowler

  Margo seems willing to accept that at face value, for the time being. “Did she tell Cain that these ambassadors from the United World would arrive?”

  Interesting term: ambassadors. Not soldiers or scouts. The word she chose implies a mission of peace, which, in all honesty, was why we were sent here in the first place. We hadn’t counted on being blown out of the sky by heavily armed creatures suffering from massive deformities, or hunted by high-speed superhumans. First contact was our primary mission—as well as saving the future of humankind. But after all we’ve experienced, it’s painfully naïve to think that when we arrive in Eden, the transfer of the fetuses will be a peaceful transaction.

  Lemuel lowers his voice, but it’s unclear why. “Cain said they were looking for trouble and that Gaia had used the goblyns to…shoot them down from the sky.”

  “Goblyns—a fitting name for those creatures,” Harris comments. “The mythology here is fascinating!”

  Granger chuckles again. “We didn’t come looking for any trouble, kid. But we sure as hell found it!”

  “It found us, rather,” Sinclair corrects him.

  “Your leader believes that Gaia is opposed to the UW presence here, and he has stirred up his people against them? All because a few well-armed mutants decided to fire a missile at their helicopter?” Margo frowns at the logic of it. Or lack thereof. “Couldn’t it be just as likely that the creatures were hungry and hunting for their next meal?”

  “They’re always hungry,” Lemuel agrees. “But Gaia made them do it. Why wouldn’t she use them to serve her will? They are hers to do with as she pleases. As are we all.”

  “She made them,” Margo clarifies.

  “Of course. Just as she made us as we are.” He glances back at my team. “Those who have pure hearts are blessed with amazing abilities, while those with evil inside them are changed for the worse. We were transformed after All-Clear, but the goblyns were deformed.” He shrugs again. “Gaia moves in mysterious ways. They are not our own.”

  Granger has paled noticeably. “Now let me get this straight…” He leans forward, gripping the back of Lemuel’s seat as Margo takes us through another patch of rugged terrain. “There’s a fifty-fifty chance here? We might end up like you two.” He gestures at Margo and the youth. “Or just as likely, we could turn into something like those freaks that shot us down?”

  Lemuel nods. “Gaia alone decides your fate.”

  “How-how long? Until I know?”

  Sinclair scoffs, half to herself. “Don’t be a fool.” She reaches to draw Granger back into his seat, but he brushes her hand aside. More and more, they’re acting like an old married couple.

  Lemuel looks Granger over. “Were you wearing a helmet like theirs until only recently? With your own air supply?”

  Granger’s nod is a quick jerk.

  “It may take a while, then. Perhaps weeks.”

  Granger curses and falls back into his seat. “So I’m a freakin’ time bomb.”

  “You don’t honestly believe any of this,” Sinclair says quietly to him. “It’s religious babble created to explain the inexplicable.” She faces Lemuel and speaks up, “Are there scientists among your people?”

  He shakes his head. “We’re all from the labor sectors. But that was before my time. I was born in the bunker.”

  “They allowed your mother to become pregnant?”

  “She already was before we were sealed inside, the story goes. Cain said it would be all right, and nobody questioned him at the time. They still don’t.”

  Margo’s eyes flick to the rearview, and again I hear her thoughts enter my mind as if they are my own: Cain could be Lemuel’s father.

  I nod to show I received the transmission. Makes sense. Males in labor sectors were sterilized, back in the day. But this Cain fellow with his four wives has a fully functional seed sack. And so would Lemuel, unless he was neutered at birth while they were living underground. Regardless, it doesn’t matter that Cain exiled the kid; if Lemuel is the man’s son, there’s no telling what may happen in our near future.

  Blood ties run deep.

  Harris nudges me. “Family relation, do you think? Could this young fellow be a prince among his people, and all this exile business nothing but an elaborate ruse?”

  Was Margo’s thought-transmission sent on a scatter pattern? Had the doctor picked up some of it, or had he come up with this idea all on his own?

  “Is there some reason why his people haven’t found us yet?” I ask Margo. “Cain doesn’t sound like the kind of guy they’d want to disappoint.”

  She relays my question.

  “Victoria won’t let them find us,” Lemuel says. “She’s guiding them in the opposite direction until we have reached our destination.”

  Margo nods as if confirming the news. Has she heard the same from Victoria herself?

  “By then, it will be daylight,” Lemuel continues. “They will return to the Shipyard—unless they feel like dealing with the goblyns.”

  “The Shipyard,” Margo continues to pry information out of him. “Is that the name of your people’s settlement?”

  For the first time, Lemuel smiles. He’s enjoying himself, being the center of attention, having us hang on his every word. “You’d have to see it to believe it. We live in these overturned ships—big ocean liners, some of them. They protect us from the sun during the day, and there’s plenty of food stores and water to be had, protein and hydropacks. The Shipyard is our home, thanks to whatever storm blew those vessels ashore.”

  “Gaia has provided well for you.” Margo sounds like she’s bought into the kid’s belief system. “Does she also protect you from the goblyns?”

  Lemuel shakes his head. “Gaia helps those who help themselves. That’s what Cain has taught us. She provided us with all the weapons we’d ever need. One of the ships had holds full of guns. So we are able to match the goblyns round for round when they attack. And we have a wall of barbed steel that surrounds our compound with sentries always on duty.” His pride swells as he shares, “I have mounted enough goblyn heads along the wall to rival any warrior in my tribe.”

  “Captain Mutegi must be warned of this,” Harris whispers. “There are two factions of well-armed mutants on this continent, and we haven’t even seen Luther’s cave dwellers yet. But if that flying man is any indication, they will be a force to reckon with. And what of Eden? How well armed are they? We have no idea!”

  “It’s not as bad as it sounds,” I argue.

  “No. It’s worse!”

  I shake my head. “You’re not paying attention, Doc. Margo is getting Lemuel to tell us everything we need to know. Namely, that none of these armed groups are working together. If they were, then maybe the UW would have some trouble on their hands.”

  “Our hands, Sergeant. We’re all alone here!”

  “For now, we don’t tell Mutegi anything. He won’t send in air support if he thinks it’ll be shot down again. We bank on the fact that while these groups are fighting among themselves, they’ll never have the strength necessary to pose a threat to the UW. Meanwhile, we pick the strongest team, and we gain their trust. We ride them all the way to the end of a successful mission.” For the thousandth time, images of my wife and kids flash before my eyes. “We go home happy.”

  Harris nods. “And what about this Gaia woman? Apparently, she holds the power in this young fellow’s tribe. She is spoken of as a goddess.”

  “You think she exists?”

  The doctor frowns pensively. “I’ll believe it when I see it. But for such a religion to have sprouted up from nothing in a matter of months, and for these people to follow Gaia so devoutly, there must be someone who offers them answers when needed most. Whether she is still alive is another matter. This Lord Cain may be filling in the blanks at present, carrying on the mythology in her absence, if you understand my meaning.”

  I have a hard time believing that Gaia, whoever she is, and the presence I encountered are one and the sa
me. They’re nothing alike. For one thing, this Gaia is being credited with downing our chopper, while the strange voice that spoke to me in the Wastes protected me from the deformed mutants, guiding me to safety while it killed them. Why would Gaia want to destroy me and save me at the same time?

  Could it be that Cain is using the Gaia myth for his own purposes? Not an uncommon practice among the power-hungry doing all they can to hold their position of power. If so, then the true Gaia may be nothing like her reputation.

  “Will you go back to your people, do you think? Once all of this blows over?” Margo asks Lemuel.

  “Not while Cain lives.” His reply is quick and forceful. “I won’t live another day under his tyranny.”

  He jumps in his seat. Something outside has startled him.

  Margo slams hard on the brakes, throwing us forward. Milton stands in the white glare of the headlights. He faces us with an outstretched palm, silently halting our progress.

  “What the devil is this?” Harris demands.

  Milton jogs over to Margo’s window. She depresses a pad on her armrest, and the pane of thick tinted glass retracts into her door.

  “Don’t go any farther,” he warns, rubbing his gloved hands together in the cold. “Not this way. Things aren’t looking so good up ahead.”

  Margo frowns, her dark eyes flitting to the rearview and back to Milton. “They’ve cut us off.” She knows Milton’s thoughts and repeats them out loud. “They knew where we were going, all along.”

  Milton nods. “They’re quick, I’ll give them that. They beat us to the Homeplace, and they’re not letting anybody in or out. Luther’s trying to negotiate with them, but it’s not going all that well.” He looks at the young man beside her. “Your people are a damned stubborn bunch, kid.”

  Lemuel nods, but there’s no arrogance in the gesture. “They have Gaia on their side.”

  Part IV

  Negotiation

  15 Cain

  18 Months After All-Clear

  I have reached the end of my patience. Killing Victoria outright and being done with her is still an option on the table, but she is my eyes, after all. Without her, I would not be able to see what I am now seeing—or not seeing, as the case appears to be.

  “Gaia-dammit woman, how could you lose them?” I growl, low and menacing, as I clutch her wrists.

  “There is one among them with a gift…like my own. She may be using it against me to misdirect us, to blind me from their true course.”

  I glare at her for a moment before returning her slender hands to my temples, restoring my view of the warriors I sent after the UW scouts and their meddling rescuers. Luther’s flying man would have been bad enough, but there is also a black armored vehicle impervious to bullets that we must contend with. Undoubtedly, it came from Eden.

  “If I did not know better, my lady, I would think you didn’t want me to find them.” I press my thumb against her jugular and feel its strong, throbbing pulse. “But you would not risk your life for these strangers...”

  “We will find them,” Victoria says without pause, reclining naked beside me in the bed. My far-sight combined with her telepathic abilities creates the virtual reality we share; flesh against flesh keeps the connection strong. “But we may have to look…farther.”

  I gesture toward my men who grow more frustrated with every dead end they face. They stomp their feet against the cold night, having returned to the location where the flying man frightened them off. But there is no vehicle and no tracks; only half of the weapons they discarded earlier during their retreat remain.

  “They grow more impatient by the minute.” As do I.

  Victoria guides them eastward from there, certain the United World scouts went that direction. Toward Eden.

  “We can send them northward as well—or split them up to cover more ground,” she suggests.

  “Enough time has been wasted. There is less than an hour before sunrise. They shouldn’t have to deal with the goblyns after hunting in vain all night.” I shake my head as I watch Vincent do his best to rally the men. “Send them to Luther.”

  Victoria blinks at me in stunned silence.

  “Don’t give me that look, woman. Luther has been pestering us for months now. It’s high time we returned the favor and paid him a visit.”

  “With over a score of armed warriors? You really think that would be wise?”

  “You live to obey.” I narrow my gaze. “Don’t question me.”

  She never backs down. I once appreciated that personality trait in her. “Our people have always lived at peace with—”

  “We are not going there to start any trouble with them, only to head off the UW scouts if that’s their destination. Luther will understand. He is a reasonable man.” I pause, musing half to myself, “He can’t possibly be in league with them.”

  Victoria shifts her weight. “I wouldn’t know where to begin looking. I have no idea where Luther’s people are.”

  Can it be that she’s led the warriors astray on purpose? Is she stalling now?

  “Send them to the mountains. Luther and his nomads hide among the rocks—like frightened squirrels.”

  She shakes her head. “There are hundreds of caves in those mountains. Do you honestly expect our men to search every last one of them?”

  “Ye of little faith,” I chide her. “Do you forget that we have Gaia on our side? Truly, woman, I sometimes wonder whether you are one of the faithful.” My upper lip curls back into a sneer. “If you have passed infidel blood on to my child, I will slay you both in this very bed!”

  “Gaia helps those who help themselves, my lord,” she is quick to recite the catechism. “She is not to be summoned at our every whim.”

  I regard her for a moment in silence. The woman appears to be sincere. “We follow the will of Gaia by hunting down these United World spies invading our land. She will bless our efforts, once we stop chasing our tails and do what must be done.” I clench my jaw, and the muscle twitches like a snake. “She told me this moment would come, that we would join forces with Luther’s people to rid this continent of the UW.”

  “They may not see it that way, my lord,” she cautions me, her voice low. “They do not follow Gaia’s ways. Sending warriors to their hiding place—”

  “It is up to you to make matters clear to Vincent and Markus. Tell them to keep the men on a tight leash. Luther’s infidels are not to be attacked, verbally or physically. They are to be treated as allies until we have possession of the UW scouts.”

  “And then?”

  Luther would know better than to think his people are any match for mine.

  “They will let our men go without incident.” I point at my disgruntled warriors. “Now tell them where they must go, and tell them why. But most importantly, tell them Gaia will lead them. She will direct us to Luther’s cave. I will see her guide us by her light.”

  I can see plainly that young Victoria does not agree with this course of action, but she knows better than to disobey me. At Vincent’s word, the men tighten their belts and adjust their weapons; then, in a blur of speed, they are off, racing across moonlit sands like ghosts on the wind. Hovering above them as a camera would have in an old Hollywood epic, our ethereal point of view follows.

  Do I envy them? Do I wish I could be the one leading the warriors instead of Vincent? At times, perhaps. But whenever Gaia calls me to her, to behold her in all her glorious light, knowing that I am the only one among my people graced by her presence, all other desires pale in comparison.

  Crossing kilometers as if they are only paces across the Shipyard, my warriors head straight for mountains jutting awkwardly out of the terrain as though shoved there against their will. In all likelihood, they were. The cataclysmic blasts of D-Day’s bombs destroyed the Old World and all life upon it. Valleys rose upward and mountains were laid low. Topography shifted, rendering the old maps from the bunkers useless. This is literally a new world, a North American continent totally unlike it
s predecessor.

  The UW has no business being here after what they did to this land. We have long since grown tired of their presence—that naval blockade floating out at sea, those ugly grey ships and their pretentious military presuming to keep everyone from going in or out, as if the continent were diseased.

  To the unenlightened, perhaps it is. But they are ignorant of the truth.

  This is a land of blessing. It is here that Gaia has chosen to reveal herself. She has chosen me and my people to be her people. The UW with their domed city across the sea and their filtered air have rejected Gaia’s blessings, and such irreverent disregard is not to be tolerated indefinitely.

  They will soon learn the consequences of their arrogance.

  “Gaia will show us the way?” Victoria’s tone leaves room for doubt.

  I focus on the terrain ahead as we rush through the night sky, flying above my warriors. The mountains loom before them, twenty kilometers away. But considering the speed of these men, they will reach the foothills in a matter of minutes.

  “She will guide us to their cave. It is her will that we work with Luther and his people.” Why am I repeating myself? Who am I trying to convince?

  “Working with him is different from sending armed men to his front door.”

  I curse under my breath. “Luther is no fool. He will know the weapons they carry are not meant for him—as long as our warriors are not provoked.”

  “And if they are?”

  “Luther would not risk the lives of his people for UW spies.”

  “Will you threaten him? If he decides to protect them?”

  “If he goes against the will of Gaia, he will be punished.” I clench my fists.

  “But you said it was Gaia’s will for the two of you to work together against your common enemy.” She never backs down in the face of my temper. “Will she be pleased if you start trouble with Luther and his nomads?”