by Scott Baron
It had been a satisfying discovery, and one she planned on revisiting in the future.
The comms alert chirping in the dark roused Charlie from a deep sleep, sending him lurching for his nightstand, his konus on one arm and pistol in the other hand before he even realized he had grabbed them. Leila, however, woke without the violent start of her king.
“What is it?” she asked, rubbing her eyes groggily.
“I don’t know,” he replied. “Who the hell calls at three in the morning? Or is it three at night? At this hour, I don’t even know if it’s really late, or really early.”
“Charlie. The comms.”
“Oh, right,” he said, looking at the caller ID and slapping open the line. “Do you know what time it is, Cal?”
“Of course, Charlie. I’m a computer. Keeping track of time for me is like breathing is for you.”
“It was rhetorical,” he said with a sigh.
“I know,” Cal replied. “And it is eleven a.m.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“It is in Wales.”
That got his attention. Hearing the name of the place his recently freed dragon friend had been trapped in a limestone cavern for a few thousand years gave him goosebumps.
“Why Wales? What’s happened, Cal?” he asked, still groggy but suddenly less so.
“Something…unexpected.”
Charlie groaned. “Oh, come on. It’s only been a week since we arrived in LA. And we’ve just traveled a few thousand years through time, into our future, no less. Whatever it is, can’t it wait until morning?”
“The Asbrú just landed in Wales.”
Now Charlie was wide awake.
“That’s impossible.”
“I would tend to agree with that assessment, yet here we are, discussing the impossible, it seems.”
Charlie was already getting dressed, a full load of adrenaline flushing through his body. Leila, mirroring his urgency, was likewise reaching for her clothes.
The Asbrú, the ship that had started it all. It couldn’t be in Wales. It had crash-landed in a desert wasteland on a planet in a distant galaxy, and Charlie would know. He’d built the damn thing, his whole life changed in an instant when it was sucked through a wormhole and spat out in a place where magic, not technology, powered civilization.
The only other survivor was their second-in-command and mech pilot, Rika Gaspari. But she had been taken. Captured by a group of slave traders, her brain had been permanently damaged as they tried to force her into compliance. Charlie had thought her gone forever. Until he encountered her at the end of an opposing sword a few thousand years in the past, and back on their homeworld, no less.
It had been a surprise courtesy of Malalia Maktan, his former nemesis’s equally cruel daughter. Rika had been tracked down, bought as a slave, and made into a weapon. And all to hurt Charlie.
Malalia was nothing, if not vindictive.
Charlie had defeated his former friend in combat, taking her captive. Then he and his friends managed to overpower Malalia, but only barely, sending her back to her home galaxy, while they remained on Earth, accidentally throwing themselves far into the future. A future nearly a thousand years farther than Charlie and Rika’s own timeline.
And the Rika they’d brought back with them was not the woman he’d known. She was something different now.
But, in a way, she was herself again. At least, personality-wise. She still lacked the memories stolen from her when her mind was tampered with, but she had replaced them with combatives and magic knowledge, forced into her head by her captor. And, more importantly, now that she’d been healed properly, she was Charlie’s ally once more.
“Cal, you’ve told the others, I assume?”
“I will contact them momentarily. I wanted to speak with you first.”
“Appreciated. But I guess it’s time to get ’em all up and going.” He turned, appreciating the sight of Leila dressing as much as he enjoyed the opposite.
How the hell did I get so lucky? he mused.
The greatest benefit of all the ordeals he had endured was his girlfriend. His queen, and quite literally at that. Leila, along with the rest of their unlikely band of rebel adventurers, were his friends, and in a much deeper and substantial way than any he’d had in his former life, before being sucked down a wormhole. Hell, he was even blood-bound to a magic-wielding dragon.
“I’ll tell Ara,” he said.
“Thank you. I was unable to find her on my scans.”
“She’s very good at not being seen when she doesn’t want to be.”
Despite her considerable size, it was a fair assessment. Also true was that while she was mostly okay, she was still having a bit of a hard time regaining her former high spirits. Being trapped in a cave for a few thousand years had done a number on her, and while she was more than fully recovered physically, it was the residual emotional distress that worried Charlie.
She’d get over it, in time, but for now, they had all agreed to give her however much space she needed to deal with it.
Doctor McClain, the local head-shrinker, had been more than a little startled when the massive dragon had accepted the suggestion she speak with her, but she, and the other resident therapist, a tranquil, almond-eyed woman with silver hair named Fatima, had taken Ara under their proverbial wings, helping her deal with the residual survivor’s trauma. It was an unusual arrangement, to say the least.
The two women had also taken on another new patient, this one quite human.
Rika had passed the physical assessments with flying colors. She was the picture of perfect health, largely due to her contact with the healing Balamar waters, which helped heal and restore her mind as well as her body. But psychologically, she was dealing with issues that healthy brain tissue alone would not mend.
Her life had been stripped from her, and while snippets remained, she had a great many gaping holes. Holes that would never return. Fortunately, her friendship with Charlie had re-formed, and the pair trained together once more, as they’d done in the old days, only now they formed new memories rather than reminiscing about old ones.
And now they would all be flying back to the UK, the same place they’d just spent a considerable amount of time, albeit a few thousand years in the past.
“Bring your weapons,” Charlie called out to Leila. “No idea what we’ll find there.”
“One step ahead of you,” she replied merrily, a shining konus already on her wrist.
“Ya see? This is why I love you,” he said with a contented grin. “Now, come on, Ripley’s almost certainly awake. We can have her and Eddie give us a ride,” he said of their teenage friend and neighbor.
Her parents had long ago staked claim to one of the largest estates in the area, simply based on the size of the kitchen it boasted. And they’d welcomed the newcomers with open arms, and a lot of home-cooked meals.
“Does that girl ever sleep?” Leila joked.
“She’s a teenager, so the answer is no. At least not at this hour.”
Leila laughed brightly. “A valid observation.”
The pair quickly gathered up the rest of their things and headed for the door.
“Where’s Baloo?” Charlie asked.
“Probably out stalking another deer,” Leila replied.
It was one of the enormous wolf-like animal’s favorite games, stalking and chasing deer, which were incredibly plentiful in the overgrown hills of Malibu. Typically, he would just pursue them for fun, but every so often, he’d take one down, feasting happily, while not even putting a dent in the deer population. It was a good thing, too, because as huge as he’d grown, feeding him would have been quite a chore, otherwise.
“No time to track him down. We’ll just let him be. You ready?”
“Yes. Let’s go find Ripley.”
Chapter Four
Bawb lay peacefully in the warmth of the bed, sharing the soft covers with Hunze, watching her with quiet wonder as she slept. This was all so n
ew to him. To her as well, really, though for far different reasons than the assassin’s.
As for Bawb, he had never stayed in one place for any length of time, which was simply part of the life of a Wampeh Ghalian. No routines. No weaknesses. No attachments. But that all changed when he unexpectedly took the golden-haired woman under his protection.
It had started as a simple matter of keeping the innocent safe, while simultaneously denying the Council of Twenty her magic-storing hair, grown for nearly three decades. Or so he had told himself. But in retrospect, there had always been something between them, from the very first moment their eyes locked when he saved her from a burning Council ship.
She had only been freed from her life of slavery a short time when Bawb and his friends faced off against their powerful enemy. The resulting mix of spells and magic flung them so very far away from all she had ever known, stranding them on ancient Earth. But despite the challenge suddenly confronting them, Hunze had flourished in her new reality.
Free life saw her blossom, her fears melting away in the warmth of her new family’s friendship. She learned to bake, learned to garden, and ultimately, learned to love. And it was from that love that she willingly gave half of her hair––filled with decades of power channeled into it since her youth––to Bawb as he faced his most challenging foe yet.
And he had succeeded––with the help of their friends, of course. But in her eyes, Bawb had become a transcendent being, evolving from a silent and stoic guardian to a man worthy of the gift she had given. Worthy of her love.
And now they lived together in an unexpected state of grace, the most unlikely of couples in either galaxy. A sweet, loving former slave and a deadly vampire assassin with more blood on his hands and in his stomach than entire armies had shed. Surprisingly, they settled into domestic life quite easily.
For Hunze, part of it might have been the clime of their new home. Unlike the UK, where they had first arrived and settled in, this new place––Malibu, on the shores of Southern California––was a world of warmth and wonder. And with that warmth came an abundance of sunshine, every ray of which soaked into Hunze’s golden hair, charging it with even more power, which slowly continued to grow.
She found it an amusing new pastime, devising hairstyles, now that a full half of her hair was gone from her head, carefully shorn, and safely tucked away for her love to use when the need arose. A powerful tool at his disposal should the need for it arise again.
The thing Hunze had noticed immediately was that the sheer weight of it had been such a constant for so many years that she felt almost buoyant minus its weight. The steely muscles of her neck and back, long accustomed to supporting the burden of all that golden mass, were suddenly getting a break. Their first break ever, really.
Everything was easier now, and though the close-shorn hair on the sides and back of her head was beginning to grow out, nourished by the sun, she wasn’t sure if she wanted it to. But there was time. For now, she was simply living a contented life in this new and amazing place. And with Bawb’s strength to rely on, she had never felt safer.
Next to her in bed, Bawb felt that now-familiar warmth in his chest as he looked upon her sleeping profile.
So, this is love, he mused, his heart swelling with unfamiliar emotion. It is no longer an abstract. I now understand why men are willing to die for it.
The comms chirped out, demanding his attention.
“At this hour?” he grumbled.
He had quickly learned to operate this realm’s communications systems, as well as a host of other amazing devices, though he still preferred his magical ones out of habit.
“Yes?” he said.
“Hello, Bawb. I apologize for waking you––”
“I was not asleep, Cal.”
“Then I apologize for disturbing your evening,” Cal corrected. “In any case, there has been an incident abroad. Wales, to be exact. We are preparing to do a scene survey. Given the potential danger, I thought it would be best if you joined your friends for this outing.”
He looked at Hunze, now groggily smiling up at him from their bed. No more danger for you, he thought. You’ll be safe here.
The pale man rose to his feet. “I will be at your command center straightaway.”
“Excellent. Find Ripley. She is giving the others a ride.”
“I will. We shall speak again shortly,” he said, shutting off the comms and getting dressed.
“Bawb, what’s going on?” Hunze asked.
“I am requested, it would seem.”
Hunze moved to rise, but he gently put his hand on her shoulder. “No, Hunze. You sleep. This should not take long.” He leaned in and kissed her gently, that twinge in his chest rising to greet him again.
“Don’t be too long,” she said, something more than just affection sparking behind her eyes.
“I’ll be back before you miss me,” he replied, then stepped out of their bedroom.
Bawb geared up quickly, donning a few of his usual weapons, then casting a dozen layers of increasingly deadly booby-trap spells as he left their home. They would not harm Hunze, but if anyone not in their immediate circle of friends came calling, they would be in for a very nasty surprise.
Satisfied at her safety, Bawb walked out toward the roadway, calling Ripley on her comms. “I’m at the intersection. Cal says you’re giving us a lift?”
The dark shape of the ship sitting in a long-abandoned home’s yard presented itself as its door opened, spilling out light. A teenage girl leapt down the short steps in exuberant greeting.
“Heya, Bob! Been waiting for ya. The others are already on board. You ready to do cool stuff?”
Teenagers, Bawb sighed. Her energy was boundless.
“Let us depart, then,” he said, following her into the belly of the ship. “And hello to you as well, Eddie.”
“Hi, Bob,” the ship replied. “Just a quick stop at Command, then we’ll jump into orbit for a minute and make the hop over to the UK. Sound good?”
“Of course,” he said as he nodded a greeting to his friends and took a seat.
“Everyone is aboard, Ripley,” Eddie called out.
“Great,” she said. “Next stop, Uncle Cal’s place.”
Chapter Five
Eddie the talking ship flew low over the sleeping city of Los Angeles.
Charlie had befriended a dragon, fought aliens, and become king of a land a few thousand years in his past, but this was still throwing him. An actual, functional, smack-talking AI. Things really had changed in the future.
The passengers watched the city drift by beneath them as they headed toward the lights of Downtown. They could make out the lines of some of the streets and roadways below, but the absence of the dense population they’d been designed for had left them eerily vacant, like the city itself, save for the small groups slowly repopulating the area.
With no need for streetlights, the plague of light pollution that had been such a concern prior to the Great War had been unintentionally eliminated. A happy byproduct of the global near-extinction. Energy conservation was no longer an issue either, the solar collectors and fusion plants all producing far more power than was needed for the minuscule number of survivors.
The result was a silent, eerie landscape where man-made structures reflected hints of their shapes in the ambient moonlight. And there, in the middle of it, roughly fifteen miles from the coast, stood the illuminated towers of the city center. And beneath those was the global loop tube hub Cal had chosen to serve as his command center.
“Hey, you guys. Hang on. We’re gonna do a rooftop landing on one of the lower buildings,” Eddie said over his internal speakers.
“Uh, isn’t the place we’re going below ground?” Charlie asked.
“Shh! Let him do it,” Ripley hissed. “He only barely passed that part of his flight check and needs the practice.”
“Shut up, Rip. I did not barely pass. I was just having a bad day,” the AI shot back. “And I
totally aced my space flights and re-entry trials, if you remember.”
“Of course I do, Eddie. I was there, remember?”
“Well, duh. But with that little meat brain of yours, I never know what you’ll forget,” he said, the snark in his artificial voice clear as a bell.
“Oh my God, you two are insufferable,” Charlie groaned. “In my time, AIs were supposed to be the promise of objective geniuses helping better mankind. Instead, we’ve got a moody teenager with wings.”
Bawb allowed a slight grin to crack his otherwise stoic façade.
“It’s not my fault,” Ripley cracked. “I have no idea where he picked that up.”
“Sure thing, kid. But if you two are quite done with your oh-so-clever banter, could we please land a bit closer to where we’re actually going? My long-lost ship just rather impossibly popped up in Wales after crashing a bazillion miles away hundreds of years ago. I think a sense of urgency is appropriate.”
“Fine,” Eddie grumbled, setting down in the empty street outside an accessway to the loop tube network. “Here you are.”
Ripley followed them down the lift into the tube terminus, where a handful of humans and a small group of tall, four-armed Chithiid were working to repair one of the tube platforms. One of the men had a replacement leg, the metal showing at the cuff of his pants. An older woman sported a shiny artificial hand.
The younger workers, however, appeared to be one hundred percent organic, born and raised on the planet. A lone cyborg was working among them. He had a living flesh covering and looked entirely human, but a subtle “offness” in his movement cued Charlie in to his true nature.
“Hey, guys, we’re meeting up here,” Rika called down from a small balcony overlooking the terminus, having arrived there before the others. One of the benefits of living so close.
