AWOL

by Traci Harding

  ‘You are a lying sack of rotten corpses, Chironjivi,’ the voice rebutted.

  Khalid smiled on the inside; clearly their captor knew there was more than one soul inhabiting this body. As he was clearly more pissed at Chironjivi than himself, Khalid struggled to overthrow his father’s will.

  ‘Not that it matters what you are, because either way this goes, your existence ends today. It’s time to clean house at Dead Man Downs and send the crew of the Insurrecto back to their maker. Khalid can either help me with that, or join you in death.’

  ‘You know me?’ Chironjivi was flabbergasted; he’d gone to great lengths to keep Dead Man Downs a secret, and yet his dark ego was also flattered to be notorious.

  ‘Make him comply!’ Khalid gained the upper hand with his larynx, yet Chironjivi forced the fist to close once more; his whole arm shook with the effort of trying to splay his fingers — his hand was near as numb as his busted ankle. ‘I’ll do anything … anything! Just get this freak show out of my body!’

  ‘Deal.’

  Khalid’s hand burst open, and in a blinding flash of pain, the metal amulet ripped its way out of his palm. The blood-soaked piece of metal flew into a metal canister that appeared in midair, open at one end. The container slammed closed, locked and settled base-down on a table.

  The mindless chatter and constant scheming stopped, all the stress and tension rushed from his body and Khalid was left completely wasted.

  ‘Rest easy, buddy,’ he was told, ‘I got your back this time.’

  Someone appeared before him, yet Khalid’s vision blurred and he was forced to close his eyes and explore the silent oasis of his own mind. The peace was as close to joy as Khalid had ever come, and although he couldn’t imagine why a man he’d tried to kill at birth would want to help him, he was truly thankful for the service. For even if he died the most awful death now, or went back to prison, he was free of Chironjivi.

  After cleaning the wound in Khalid’s hand and bandaging it up, Zeven left him to recuperate and exited the hospital room he’d conjured up. Beyond the hospital door he stepped onto the deserted beach where Vadik was waiting to be briefed.

  ‘If there is one person I have dreamt of killing, it’s Khalid Mansur.’ Vadik spied him unconscious within the room, and clearly expected to be given permission to act upon his whim.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ Zeven shut down that thought to pose the challenge. ‘Your mission is to protect him.’

  ‘Pig’s arse I will!’ Vadik flew into a rage and the atmosphere on the beach turned suddenly stormy.

  ‘Those are the orders,’ Zeven stated plainly, unfazed by Vadik’s lack of emotional control. ‘We are to make Khalid feel as comfortable with us as possible, and treat him as a trusted comrade.’

  ‘I’d rather suck dogs’ balls!’ Vadik repelled the notion.

  ‘I thought you wanted to bring down the MSS,’ Zeven countered.

  ‘I do!’

  ‘Well this is one small part of a much larger plan,’ he explained. ‘Screw it up and our entire strategy crumbles!’

  Vadik’s storm died down when he realised he might have misjudged the situation. ‘Lull him into a false sense of security so we can fuck him up the arse later, is that it?’

  ‘You’re just the hired muscle,’ Zeven quoted Vadik back at himself. ‘You don’t ask questions, you don’t need to enjoy what you do, isn’t that what you said?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Vadik frowned in objection with himself. ‘But no one has ever employed me to be nice to my target before … I’m not trained for that!’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know, you’ve been hanging out in nature for the past five years, you must have learned a little something about living in harmony with other living creatures?’

  Vadik’s frown deepened. ‘Little furry critters and plants, but —’

  ‘Well, pretend Khalid is a poor, injured little critter and treat him accordingly, even if he tries to scratch or bite,’ Zeven suggested.

  ‘Are you sure this is the plan?’ Vadik was completely bemused and deflated. ‘Doesn’t seem right to me.’

  ‘I am absolutely positive,’ Zeven vowed. ‘We need Khalid, for more reasons than I am at liberty to list, but know for certain that if anything adverse should happen to that man, the boss is going to be really, really, pissed at whomever was responsible. So either step up to the challenge, or bugger off. We cannot use anyone who cannot put the greater good before their own selfish desire.’

  ‘Is that what you are doing, Starman?’

  Zeven recognised the voice immediately, and looking to the source he found Telmo Dacre. ‘What are you doing here? You shouldn’t even know me yet.’

  Telmo grinned and raised both brows suggestively. ‘But I do.’

  ‘Who is this guy, Bob?’ Vadik queried. ‘Do you want me to take care of him for you?’

  Zeven had to laugh at that — if this Telmo had followed him here from the universe parallel, he was one of the most powerful timekeepers of all. ‘He’s a friend, Harry.’ Zeven set Vadik at ease. ‘A nosey, distrustful, pain in the arse, control freak —’

  ‘You released Khalid from prison,’ Telmo butted in.

  ‘He was going to break out anyway.’ Zeven defended his strategy.

  ‘Not without the transmission from the inter-system gateway opening, and I shut down the gate, so there was no transmission today.’ Telmo grinned in conclusion.

  ‘So the boss got to you in time,’ Zeven figured. ‘I warned her to get you guys out of there and shut down the gate earlier.’

  ‘Nope, I haven’t seen the boss,’ Telmo replied. ‘Isn’t she reconciling Sermetica and Phemoria right now?’

  ‘Gosh, it’s all happening!’ Vadik observed from the sideline.

  ‘I told you there was a bigger plan,’ Zeven commented aside to his recruit.

  ‘Is there?’ Telmo wondered. ‘Or are you just flying by the seat of your pants as per usual?’

  ‘You have absolutely no faith in me, do you?’ Zeven resented being followed and supervised.

  ‘Of course I do,’ Telmo replied bluntly. ‘I just thought you could use a hand. We’re both going to be in trouble with the boss now, so you may as well utilise me.’

  ‘Hey … I thought you said she sent you?’ Vadik was alarmed.

  ‘Listen to me.’ Telmo stepped in and the big guy turned his focus to him. ‘Please stop thinking,’ he appealed politely.

  A vague look swept over Vadik’s face, and the big man sat down on the sand and shut up.

  ‘You can do that without touching your subject now,’ Zeven noted. ‘That’s impressive.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Telmo raised both brows and looked to Zeven. ‘I perfected it on you.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Zeven’s annoyance spiked again.

  ‘How do you think I knew what you were planning?’ Telmo put forward. ‘Not to say that I didn’t guess. But, to be sure, I pulled you aside at Noah’s lake house before we left Kila and you told me about coming back early to save Khalid.’

  ‘That’s a breach in your AMIE contract, as you’re —’

  ‘— not supposed to use my talents on any member of the crew without the captain or the timekeeper’s permission,’ Telmo recounted the rule. ‘But it was in AMIE’s best interest that someone knew what you are up to.’

  ‘Because you don’t trust me,’ Zeven rolled his eyes in conclusion.

  ‘Because I have talents and knowledge that you don’t have and will need,’ Telmo reasoned. ‘Do you know how to return the spirits of the dead to their maker?’

  ‘Well … no,’ Zeven admitted.

  ‘Do you know how to train someone in self mastery?’ Telmo quizzed.

  ‘Not really.’ Zeven was beginning to see that his mission would be a lot less research heavy with the aid of Telmo’s superconscious memory.

  ‘I won’t be required on AMIE now, as I would have been creating a monitoring system for Oceane to keep us alert to any sign of Khalid, but easier still would b
e not to lose sight of him in the first place,’ he concluded diplomatically.

  ‘Fair enough.’ Zeven accepted that Telmo’s reasons had nothing to do with his capability. ‘Do you know anything about the Old Ones who supposedly built the inter-system gateways eons ago?’

  ‘Actually, I attempted to write a paper on them in university,’ Telmo advised, ‘and I can tell you with all surety that there is barely anything known about them on three out of four planets in the USS.’

  ‘Phemoria.’ Zeven had already been told they were the only civilisation likely to know anything of the Old Ones; they were also the least likely to share information, especially with a man.

  ‘Legend has it that the Phemorians still have contact with the Old Ones, and due to their inter-breeding Phemorians inherited their psychic powers.’ Telmo shared the only gem of information he’d managed to find.

  Zeven nodded as this corroborated what he already knew. ‘Right then, I’ll be off. Would you stay and watch these two?’

  ‘Good luck, I’ll be interested to know what you find out.’ Telmo agreed to his lot too easily, like he already knew what Zeven’s next move was and didn’t have to ask, which Zeven found a little irritating. Yet, if Telmo had asked to know the plan, Zeven would have found that equally irritating — the truth was Telmo just irritated him.

  It wasn’t really Telmo’s fault that he was carrying such an old soul in such a young persona, but the mismatch just made him seem like a know it all, even though he did really have access to more spiritual knowledge, talent and experience than the rest of the timekeepers put together.

  ‘Thanks for babysitting,’ Zeven said before he departed. He could have been referring to Vadik and Khalid as the children who needed minding, but he silently included himself in that equation.

  ‘We are legion,’ Telmo replied with a smile, ‘and we all must play our part.’

  As expected, Zeven found Aurora, Kassa, Zelimir and Swithin sitting around in the mess hall on AMIE awaiting the rest of the crew’s return from their mission to Phemoria with the president of Sermetica. He was delighted to find Kalayna was also in attendance — her presence was confirmation that Taren had followed his directive and recruited her before today’s main agenda began.

  ‘Are we winning?’ he asked to make all aware of his presence.

  ‘Zeven!’ Aurora jumped up and embraced him. ‘Where have you been?’

  ‘I’ve been doing other stuff for the cause.’ He grinned and bequeathed a kiss to her. ‘I just need a quick rundown on where you guys are at.’

  ‘They successfully removed the crown of Phemoria from the Qusay’s head, and contained the Phemoray along with their cursed crown in a case made of Osmium.’ Aurora stepped away to fill him in. Osmium was the densest and strongest metal in the known universe. ‘But the Qusay passed out before the situation could be completely resolved, so they are just waiting for her to awaken.’

  ‘Kale?’ Kalayna was having an epiphany. ‘You’re Zeven?’

  ‘Sometimes,’ he said and then conceded, ‘mostly.’ When his humour didn’t even fetch a smile from his old friend, he was concerned. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘A work colleague of mine has gone missing,’ she explained. ‘He mentioned seeking Zeven out.’

  ‘I know where he is.’ Zeven smiled to assure her. ‘He is absolutely fine.’

  ‘Really?’ The relief of the news compelled her out of her chair to hug the messenger. ‘Thank you, Kale — Zeven? Thank you so much!’ Kalayna let him go and then appeared a little awkward — she’d obviously forgotten his wife was right beside them. ‘Sorry … got a bit carried away.’

  Aurora waved it off as no big deal. ‘I know you guys were study buddies for a long time; hugging is allowed.’

  ‘So where is Telmo?’ Kalayna begged to know.

  ‘He’s helping me out with a few things, and we may be gone a while,’ he advised both ladies.

  ‘Why hasn’t Taren told us what you are up to?’ Swithin was suspicious, but then he always was — thanks to his criminal days working in the black market it was second nature.

  ‘Because she wants you all focused on the larger job at hand,’ Zeven proffered.

  ‘I am free,’ Swithin offered his services.

  ‘No,’ Zeven insisted. ‘Taren is going to require your aid after she gets back from Phemoria.’

  ‘That would be a first.’ Obviously Swithin couldn’t imagine why Taren would need to bring someone back from the dead.

  Zeven shrugged and backed up. ‘I gotta motor, or I’ll miss my window of opportunity.’

  ‘I suppose asking you where you are going is pointless?’ Aurora posed and received a wink as confirmation, whilst Zeven brought his PK to bear on delivering him to the throne room of the Qusay-Sabah Clarona.

  In the Qusay’s room of court in Tonissia, the capital city of Phemoria, Zeven arrived to find Amie working her impressionist magic on the Valourean force who were frozen stiff around the room. This was why Zeven had told Taren she would need Amie on this mission. Last time around, Zeven had teleported Amie here after the confrontation with the queen — Taren had left Zeven back at base in case they needed any additional team members brought in. But as Zeven had been unsure whether or not he would return to base in time to transfer Amie to the throne room, he’d included the directive in his notes to Taren.

  So far so good, he considered; his plan was right on track.

  Amie was implanting the impression in each Valourean that the council meeting they had just witnessed had gone splendidly well, that they were to forget all the details and were free to go. Unfortunately Amie’s talent didn’t work en masse, so she was working her way around the room, dismissing the Qusay’s force one by one. Each of the Valoureans looked really pissed off, but their aggressive looks melted as Amie worked her magic, and each guard left the room in a quiet, orderly fashion.

  ‘Zeven?’ Taren was clearly surprised to see him, and approached to lead him away from the rest of the team. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘Research,’ he said. ‘How do you fancy my chances of getting access to Phemoria’s Hall of Records?’

  Taren was completely perplexed by the query. ‘Pretty good, most likely … being that at this day, my mother has been released from her curse and is talking with my father for the first time in three decades!’

  ‘Have you and Mythric spoken to her yet?’ Zeven quizzed, to try and figure how far into this situation they were.

  Taren frowned, obviously annoyed that he already knew how today’s events were playing out. ‘Yes, and the Qusay asked Mythric to return the body of Satomi to Phemoria, just as you predicted. We are just waiting for my father to say his goodbyes, so that we can see him safely back to his hotel and his usual security force. Then we’ll return to AMIE and form a new team to carry out my mother’s request.’ Taren was sounding rather perturbed. ‘I was rather expecting you’d like to aid your father in this.’

  ‘My presence is not vital to the outcome,’ he countered, regretting he’d miss seeing the moment his parents were reunited — but at this point only Zeven knew that the story of Spyridon Vidor and the Princess Satomi was to have a happy ending.

  ‘Well, I have to believe you on that,’ she regretted to say, ‘being that you’ve been right about everything else today, except for the fact Telmo has gone missing.’

  ‘Telmo is with me,’ Zeven put her mind at rest in one regard, but this fact meant he was in trouble on a whole other level.

  ‘Telmo!’ Yasper’s ears picked up, having just this day taken the opportunity to have a chat with the president of Sermetica about his lost sibling and discovered his identity. ‘How does Zeven know Telmo Dacre?’ Yasper was curious.

  Taren already knew the answer. ‘Yes, that is a very good question, isn’t it?’ She held up a hand to prevent Yasper approaching and joining the conversation — whereupon he returned to the others, clearly disappointed to be denied answers at this time. ‘Or more to the point, how do
es Telmo know you?’ Taren folded her arms, knowing that there was only one conclusion that would explain it. ‘Two of you are AWOL.’

  ‘It’s not my fault,’ Zeven stressed quietly. ‘The little shit is as powerful and knowledgeable as Taliesin or Yi Wu ever was —’

  ‘Who is Yi Wu?’ Taren wondered.

  Zeven waved off the detail. ‘You’ll remember in four years when your memory comes back. The point is, Telmo is super smart and I can use him. You won’t need him now that —’ He managed to bite his tongue before mentioning Khalid’s escape. ‘You just won’t.’

  ‘Isn’t it about time you told me what you are up to?’ Taren appealed in all seriousness. ‘I have a telepath here and I’m not afraid to use him.’

  ‘You two are acting very strange today.’ Lucian approached to join their huddle; as captain of AMIE he had a perfect right to include himself — although technically Taren was in command of this mission.

  ‘Zeven is stuck on something I need to help him out with,’ Taren advised Lucian, and looked back to Zeven to query, ‘Is my presence vital to the outcome of the next timekeeping mission to Sermetica?’

  ‘Not if they take Swithin and Kassa, no,’ he answered.

  Lucian’s friendly demeanour waned. ‘Why is Zeven speaking of a future event like it has already happened?’ Lucian posed. ‘Has he developed precognition, like you?’

  ‘Exactly right.’ Zeven liked the sound of a premise that could explain a lot, without having to explain too much.

  ‘But more research is needed to verify a few things,’ Taren added to cover his bases.

  ‘And the only place I can reference said information,’ Zeven concluded, ‘is here on Phemoria.’

  ‘I see.’ Lucian accepted that explanation, although it was clear he wasn’t entirely convinced.

  ‘If you can organise the troops to retrieve Satomi’s body from Sermetica, I’ll stay here and give Zeven a hand with his enquiries,’ Taren proffered.

  ‘If you are confident of your safety.’ Lucian obviously wasn’t entirely comfortable with trusting the Phemorians — they had tried to kidnap and brainwash his wife before today and although that instance may have been many timelines ago, thanks to Lucian’s eternal memory he’d not forgotten.