This story was far from over.
Activated
The Ascension Myth Book 2
Chapter 1
Gaitune-67, Safe house, basement workshop
Brock and Molly stared at the reinforced metal door.
Molly took a deep breath. “Brock, it’s a door.”
Brock tapped the door with his wrench. “With demons, or hellz knows what else, behind it!” His voice rose half an octave over the course of just one sentence. Brock had piled boxes up against it after his minor freak out, and they showed telltale signs of having been disturbed: his handprints in the dust, and a slight haphazardness to the stacking.
“Well, I don’t know what’s behind it, but there are a fuck-ton of boxes in front of it.” She looked over at him. “That’s a lot of boxes for a boogie man to get through.” She thought about it a moment more. “He’d likely get a hernia, I’m thinking.”
Brock detected a hint of irony in her voice.
He looked sideways at her. “You… you. Don’t be shittin’ me, girl. This demon, this is for realz, and I don’t want no ancestors up in my face when I’m working down here.”
His face had paled, and Molly had to stifle a rising laugh.
Molly couldn’t help but feel that this was akin to a youngster being afraid of what was under its bed.
A grown man, trained in the arts of science and engineering; one motherfucking badass with a spanner or a soldering iron - but with one big-ass fear of what might be behind an average creepy-looking door that he couldn’t open.
At some point over the last week, he had also set up an array of temporary lights that had helped him feel more comfortable when he had had to be down there alone.
Molly studied the dusty boxes as if they were a three-dimensional logic puzzle. Her brain ticked away as Brock waited in anticipation of her verdict.
She had arrived back at the base hours ago, but having declared that she needed rack time before dealing with whatever “mother-fucking drama is going on in the basement,” he had let her sleep, caffeinate, and then inquire as to what the problem was.
Joel had agreed: he had made the right call in waiting.
Now, effectively the next day, she had agreed to haul her “lady-boss ass” - as he called it - down to the basement to assess said drama.
Molly exhaled again. There was no easy way to do this.
“Okay, help me…” she told him, stepping up and tugging at one of the middle boxes.
“Girlfriend, you are signing our death warrant, if my Grindle-senses are right.” Brock attempted to sound playful, but anxiety still laced his voice.
“The hell is a grindle?” she asked, hands still on the first box.
Brock stopped a moment, scratching his head with his wrench. “They are kinda small, and have ten legs around a central body. I read about them one time. They sit inside of a small hole they build, and then when they sense something above them, they come out and attack. Wrap them up and eat them.”
“Sounds like an old spider from my holo-documentaries,” she mumbled.
Molly shifted one of the middle boxes slightly, but found that they were too damned heavy to move as one stack.
Brock moved in to lift the top one down.
“If we have ancestors and demon-shit coming after us, it’s on you.” He eyed her knowingly, like a witch doctor who had seen the future.
He carried the first box over to a space in the center of the workshop, as he had done only a matter of days ago.
Paige and Joel emerged from the stairwell, catching some of the conversation. Paige remained motionless, an observer of the unfolding events.
Joel pitched in with lifting the boxes. “Whatcha mean demons?” he asked, curious as to what he’d missed. “I didn’t think Ms. Molly believed in ghosts, and ghouls, and all that kind of thing…”
He caught her eye and made a face at her, as he turned with a box.
She returned to the stack to pick up another one, and catching the look he gave her, rolled her eyes back at him.
Brock dropped a box out of the way. “No, I’m talking about those dimensional-traveling bastards. I get a feeling like I’m being watched around that door, and I just know there is something up with that shit.”
Brock stopped and leaned to the left. He balanced on one leg and shook the other, then resumed walking.
Joel opened his mouth to give Brock shit, but Paige piped up, interrupting him. “Yeah, that could be true,” she agreed.
Everyone stopped what they were doing and all turned to look at her.
Molly looked like she wanted to beat a hole in the wall if Paige was about to add to Brock’s delusion. “What are you talking about?” she asked in her most practical, even keeled voice.
“Demons,” Paige answered, just as seriously. ”Dimensional Etheric Mediums Of the Next Sector,” she answered as she pointed towards the door.
Molly replied, “You mean, evil things like ghosts and spirits and -”
Paige shook her head, “No. You’re thinking of the ancient human myths, I think,” she explained. “Although those stories were thought to have stemmed from the same phenomenon as Estarian Dimensional Walkers.”
Joel looked confused. He carefully placed a box down next to the new pile of boxes they’d been making. He stopped to listen to Paige until he felt the sudden and sharp pain of Molly’s elbow in his ribs. He swiped at her head, which she ducked easily, and he went back to the boxes.
Brock noticed that the disarray was making his otherwise tidy workshop look like a dumping ground again.
Molly wasn’t done debunking. “Are you fucking with me?” she asked, now looking at Paige, eyes narrowed.
Paige shook her head playfully, smiling slightly at the reaction of the three humans around her.
Joel jumped in before Molly could quiz Paige. “So what are these dimensional traveling things?” He casually wiped the sweat off his forehead with his forearm. That last box had been a challenge.
“They’re called dimensional travelers, locally; or DEMONS officially. They’re ascended persons who can travel in and out of neighboring dimensions,” Paige explained.
“I didn’t think you were into all that?” Molly probed, thinking back to their conversation back when they were on Estaria.
Paige had made it very clear that even though she was descended from a very spiritually powerful line, she was in no way interested in continuing with the family traditions.
Of course, this heart-to-heart had taken place over a few too many beers, so it was entirely possible Molly had misunderstood.
“I’m not,” she agreed, “but this part is well-known and scientifically documented. It’s the bit about what you need to do to ascend that I’m just not into…”
Brock, absently wiping the dust off his hands with a rag he’d pulled out of his overalls pocket, took a step closer to the circle of intrigued crew that had formed around Paige. “You mean… you… you know how to ascend?”
Paige pursed her lips, “Yeah. I mean, my grandmother taught me some stuff. But I think it’s mostly a load of quack-a-doodle. Plus, I’m not interested in spending my life meditating, waiting for death. That’s why I dropped it as soon as I was allowed to. But it’s totally doable.”
Unknown Location
A man smoking a cigar, wearing civilian clothing in a room full of military personnel, leaned in on his holo screen, carefully watching the unfolding of something that may just tip the scales in world events a few systems away… or a lot. He always was annoyed to have to place these damned locations. A perfect ring of smoke wafted up past his head from his most recent drag of the coveted Earth-product.
An audio-feed hailed him. “Sir, the generals are ready for your input, if you’d care to join them.”
The room hummed with quiet activity, holo feeds pulling intel from all over the galaxy. The outside world thought there was peace, but one man knew otherwise. He was waiti
ng. Preparing. Playing the political cards, as he knew he had to, but all the while biding his time until the human race needed defending again.
The man took another draw on his cigar. “In a minute, ADAM. This is getting damn funny.” He chuckled away gently to himself, nodding politely to an ensign who recognized him while he hurried past the console he was occupying.
“Very well, Sir,” ADAM replied. “I’ll let them know you’ll be a little while longer.”
“Thank you, ADAM.” The man watched the holo feed in anticipation. “I’m just waiting to see how long it’s going to take Ms. Bates to try the door handle.”
There was a slight pause in the audio feed.
A moment later the audio feed came back online and ADAM spoke. “I calculate, based on her behavior observed thus far, using a decision heuristic designed for human cognitive abilities, she is 4 seconds away, within a tolerance of zero point three seconds.”
The cigar-smoking man took another drag and started to smile, as if challenged by a young buck. “Care to put a wager on that?” he asked, seeing if he could needle the AI into putting his money where his heuristic was.
ADAM didn’t hesitate. “100 credits.”
“Done,” the man said. “I think longer. And if I win, it’s coming out of your allowance. You’re not to just adjust the figures in my account. You hear me?”
“I hear, General,” ADAM agreed in an even tone. “I understand the psychology of betting. There has to be a downside disincentive for me for this to be a true game.”
The man grunted and waved his cigar.
Gaitune-67, Safe house, basement workshop
Molly glanced over at Brock who was taking the information Paige gave him seriously.
Brock looked impressed. “Wow. I would have loved to have been brought up with that kind of training.”
He turned to Molly feeling the weight of her questioning stare between his shoulder blades. “It’s the thought that through a series of training exercises, one can attune themselves to slipping through to different dimensions, or being present everywhere, or acquiring knowledge to move information through the realms. It’s all proven and documented, as Paige says, but the number of people who are capable of doing it these days… well.” He looked down, and sighed. “There aren’t many.”
Joel stood frozen to the spot, watching the interaction, his mouth slightly open. “I feel like someone has just told me that vampires and werewolves are real.”
Molly started to say something, and then caught herself.
Best not open that can of fuck-worms now.
I concur. Let the demons and ascended masters sink in first. Maybe in a day or two.
Or perhaps more. Like one or two decades.
“Well, at any rate,” Brock brought the conversation back to the present moment, “I ain’t wanting to be around here if that is some doorway to another realm or whatever. It just gives me the heebeejeebies. And if you wanna open -”
His sentence was cut short by Molly marching over to the door that was now cleared.
“NO!” Brock yelled, but it was too late. Molly started yanking on the handle.
Brock lunged at her trying to stop her.
It didn’t open.
Brock composed himself, coughing, and scratching the back of his head, spanner still in hand.
She pulled down on the handle again. And yanked hard.
Nothing.
She bit back a curse, annoyed that she couldn’t investigate the next stage in her hypothesis. “It must have another security lock on a panel we haven’t found yet,” she concluded.
Paige and Joel laughed, doubled over in stitches, looking at Brock, whose face was still frozen in horror that Molly would be so cavalier.
“No ancestors are coming to get you, Brock!” Paige said gently, patting him on the back. “That’s just not their style. They’re way more sophisticated and sagely than to go all out for a haunting.”
Brock seemed to relax a little, still staring at Molly trying the door.
“Unless you count my great, great uncle Jackson…” Paige added casually. Brock spun around to glare at her.
“Why? What was uncle Jackson like?” he asked, eyes open wide.
“He was a joker. He might fuck with you just for the shits and giggles.” Paige tried to suppress her smile.
“A trait which must run in the family,” added Joel, openly smiling at Paige’s successful attempts to fuck with Brock.
Molly stepped away from the door, and looked around. “There must be some kind of access panel here. Or a switch, or… something.”
Brock clapped his hands once. “Oh, well, that’s a shame. Never mind. I’ll go start unloading the ship supplies in case y’all brought anything back that might be useful…” He started to leave.
“Sure,” Molly called after him, still scanning for an access trigger. “And then since this is your workshop, when you’re done, have a look around and see if you can locate some kind of keypad or security panel. You may want to grab Crash to help you get some more lights down here too.”
Brock paused in his tracks, without turning round. His face dropped as he heard the instructions. “Right you are, boss!” he called back, then continued on his way out to the stairwell.
“Grindle senses?” asked Paige, when he was out of earshot.
Molly heard, and turned to look at Paige and Joel. “Yeah, he’s kinda sensitive. You know. Intuitive. He calls it his Grindle-senses.” She turned back to her investigation, now also looking to see if there was anything else that could be making him feel edgy down here. “It is a little dark. It could just be his imagination…”
Joel seemed to have recovered himself from the revelation about demons and dimensions. “Okay, so if we’re done down here, I could do with you and I having a powwow about our next case…” He watched Molly, waiting for her to respond.
“Uh, yeah.” She peeled herself away from the hunt, reining in her wanton curiosity. “Right you are, boss!” she said with a mock salute, and headed to the door herself.
Joel followed her.
Paige remained behind, her eye glazed over as she looked at the door. There was something wiggy going on here.
She just couldn’t put her finger on it.
“You coming?” called Molly from the top of the stairwell. “Or do you want to turn the lights off?”
“I’m coming,” she called. Then she heard a giggle and the main lights went off, leaving only Brock’s little array remaining to illuminate her way across the floor to the stairs.
“You bitch!” she called up to Molly as she hurried to catch up, now feeling more than a bit creeped out about being in the dark basement by herself.
Chapter 2
Senate Office, Djúpivogur District
“So you do understand what this bill will do?”
Senator Garet Beaufort peered over his desk at one of the Senate officials who also represented his district.
“Yes, yes I think I get the idea,” he responded.
Senator Beaufort leaned forward with his forearms now on the desk, his hands clasped out in front of him. “Did you read all the way to the end?”
The dull Senate officer shifted awkwardly in the guest seat across from the senator’s desk. “No. I just read the memo issued by the Senate. That normally contains enough information.”
Beaufort sat back in his chair. He knew that by sitting back, he’d relieve some of the tension the career government employee was experiencing. “You know, I really get how little time you have to go through the details on this, but…” he paused for effect. “I’ve been watching your career, even before I got appointed to this office. You’re one of the good guys.”
The middle aged man across from him looked down at the file he was holding in an attempt to hide his blush.
“And you know what else?” Garet Beaufort continued, “I’ve read this whole thing, and I think there are some section
s that you might be interested in... given your interest in making sure that this is fair for the whole population.”
He hadn’t imagined that he’d ever have to use his skills in advanced communication to convince people of action that was in their best interest, but here he was.
He kept talking. “I know a lot of folks in your district will be influenced by whether this bill goes through or not, and I’d hate for you to find out after the fact that you voted for something that only on the surface looked to be in their favor.”
The senator paused again, waiting for the penny to drop, for the official to react. He had to be careful what he said. When he took the job with Andus, he pretty much assumed his home, office, and, well, everywhere else, was going to be bugged. What he’d said so far could always be explained away as relationship building, in lieu of a bigger play.
But then, he might have been kidding himself.
The official looked up. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, his slightly ashen face almost regaining a little glimmer of the blue Estarian effervescence as he spoke.
Garet smiled his politician smile, and then looked serious as he leaned in, his arm on his desk. “Well, I hope that we can be friends. And friends help friends out.” He dropped his voice, as if telling a secret. “But when you share this with the other officials, do me a favor and leave my name out of it, yeah?”
The official nodded vigorously. “Yes, yes of course. I understand completely.” He gave Garet a knowing, exaggerated wink.
“Great!” Garet brightened again, and stood up from his desk. Walking around it, he held his hand out to shake his co-conspirator’s hand.
The official got to his feet and gathered his file, picked up his coat off the back of the chair, then took Garet’s hand, shaking it enthusiastically.
“Thank you, Senator Beaufort. I appreciate your guidance on this. Thank you!”
The Ascension Myth Box Set Page 28
