Jules could not have gained control of The New Reality without Alex. In addition to being one of the greatest scientific minds and inventors on the planet, Alex was also as shrewd and cunning as Jules. Plus, unlike anyone else on the planet, Alex possessed the precise genetic code that could potentially bring down his entire empire.
Only the correct genetic key would allow someone to infiltrate The New Reality’s main computer system and access the entire global network. And this unique genetic key was forged from one of the most prestigious men who ever walked the planet: Alexander the Great. Cloned from this DNA by The New Reality, Alex never learned of his true heritage until Jules revealed it to him. Jules also willingly failed to mention that he, too, was a clone from just as prestigious and ever more sinister a heritage: Jules Windsor was an exact genetic replica of Julius Caesar.
If it were not for the help of Dr. Harding, a physician under Jules’ employment, Alex would have perished in a deep underground genetics facility covertly run by The New Reality. Now, he and those he loved were all wanted by The New Reality as threats to the global state. Forced into hiding for over a year, Alex and his team used the time to plan and prepare.
The stratoskimmer trembled, ending Marissa’s embrace.
“We’re losing the fog,” Tom bellowed out from the cockpit. “It’s destabilizing in the erratic electromagnetic field.”
Alex leaned into the cockpit; to his surprise only a few sparks glimmered in front of the windshield. The fog had almost completely disintegrated. The ship continued to shake and weave as the electromagnetic field grew more unstable by the minute.
We’re sitting ducks! Alex realized. “Evasive maneuvers.”
The ship then rocked violently to the side as a sizzling sound emanated throughout the stratoskimmer.
“I’m losing control!” Tom yelled. “We’ve been hit by an electric blast. Shields losing power.”
Alex ran to the copilot’s seat as William unbuckled himself and moved to the back of the cockpit. He knew Alex was one of the most accomplished pilots he had ever met and had watched him annihilate multiple competitors in the racing arena. If anyone could get them out alive, it would be him.
“What are you doing?” Tom asked as the stratoskimmer took a dive. “You just turned off the engines.”
“It’s difficult to lock onto the ship without the dipoles in alignment,” Alex commented, grasping the steering wheel. “Plus, with this electromagnetic interference pattern, they’re becoming more useless by the second.”
Alex turned his head to the side. “Strap in everyone! This isn’t going to be easy.”
Chapter 12
Chapter_12
Christine felt helpless as she attempted to move her body. Though her mind willed her to do so, she could no longer feel her limbs, let alone move them. She noted that Murph, too, stood motionless. The crystal in his hand glowed brightly and emitted an angelic light that bathed her friend with a soft glow.
Put the crystal back, she thought, hoping to telepathically communicate with Murph.
Murph, nevertheless, remained immobile and failed to respond.
She attempted to communicate with him once again; however, her focus began to diminish, and it was increasingly difficult to concentrate.
Christine’s mind began to slowly drift as the image of the room faded away into a white haze. When her eyes focused once more, there was no longer a pool of silver liquid in the center of the room, nor did she see Murph standing motionless with a brilliant crystal clutched between his hands. Instead, she found herself present in mind only, in a much larger chamber filled with people. No longer confined to her body, she felt as if her consciousness had drifted somewhere else altogether.
She did not recognize the people in the room but could feel their presence. Her mind felt more connected to theirs by the second. At first, they began to speak in a foreign tongue unlike anything she’d ever heard in the past; the more her mind became at one with them, the easier it was to understand. Before long, she began to decipher what they were saying.
Christine could feel their tension in the room. She somehow knew that there were two distinct factions at odds with one another. Their tempers were at an elevated level, and their patience dwindled.
“We must consider the consequences,” pleaded a distinguished Indian gentleman with a short, wispy white beard, standing in the center of the room adjacent to a clear, circular table sitting atop a waist-high, clear pedestal.
Christine felt as if she knew the man as their consciousness merged; she understood that his name was Rhukma, leader of the Katholes and head of this council. Like the other six members of his faction, he wore a long, white robe. While his ended above the ankles, his female counterparts flowed gently on the marble floor. These other six sophisticated women, each with sharp features donned a red scarf and wore their long, black hair in a perfect bun.
A much gruffer voice echoed throughout the hall in an angry rebuttal. Wearing a shin-long leather tunic at the waist and white and red shawl tied at the right shoulder to cover his chest, he was in loud disagreement.
“This is completely unacceptable,” he demanded. “We must not turn back on what we have accomplished. To do so would be counterproductive!”
Christine recognized him as the lead representative of the other group known as the Phrees. A much more matter-of-fact person, this man of probable European descent was dogmatic in his thoughts. The other two men accompanying him donned similar garments while the three females in his faction wore long silken white dresses with a red stripe down the sides, tied with a ribbon around their waists. Each also donned golden necklaces and multi-jeweled earrings. Though these women seemed outwardly harmless, Christine could tell they were just as fierce as their male counterparts.
Zorian, the gruff Phrees leader spoke up once again before any rebuttal could be made. “Our outposts have stabilized the situation for over a century. Must you continue to deny their success?”
His cadre of Phrees representatives ardently agreed. Some clenched their fists while others pointed an accusatory finger. They were the pragmatists and came from a long lineage of manual laborers. Christine could feel that it was these people who built the outposts and took great pride in their accomplishments.
“Please,” pleaded Rhukma, “do not let your emotions blind you from the facts.”
A much more intellectual person, he and the rest of the Katholes were spiritual in nature and were the thinkers in their land.
“We have tended the outposts for over a century,” Zorian bellowed, “not you nor your fellow Kathole countrymen. You act as if you are too good for such a lowly task. Remember, if it were not for us Phrees, our lands by now would be in ruins.”
“The ground continues to quake,” Rhukma noted. “Many of our homes have turned to rubble. The Earth has rejected us—we must stop before it’s too late.”
“More outposts then!” bellowed one of the Phrees, while the others cheered his suggestion.
Zorian waited for the banter to end. He then placed his hands together and looked at each of the twelve present. After a deep breath, he uttered as if in despair, “What I am saying is that time has run out. There are no further options. The Earth will be destroyed unless we act now.”
Chapter 13
Chapter_13
“Is Jules still following us?” Alex asked as he clenched the stratoskimmer’s steering wheel.
A faint holograph of two nondescript ships flickered on the windshield as the dashboard’s lights dimmed and brightened at random.
“I can’t tell,” Tom bellowed as the ship began to shake. “Our instruments aren’t working correctly, and the ship’s not responding properly. We’re slowly losing control.”
Then so is he, Alex conjectured.
“Time to go manual,” Alex said, reaching under the dashboard. He then yanked a lever, creating an enormous roar in response.
“What’s that?” yelled William over the enormous racket.
<
br /> “Old school,” Alex said, smiling.
The ground rapidly approached. Alex knew that if his ship was having this much difficulty in the fluctuating and unsteady electromagnetic field, then so was Jules’. And that was the advantage he was hoping to exploit for his escape.
“Alex!” William frantically pointed towards the windshield, “Turn on the engines or do something. We’re going to crash!”
William’s nihilistic banter always managed to calm Alex’s nerves. Whether he was amused at his old friend’s pessimistic outlook or whether it just kept him more observant, he wasn’t sure. He, however, understood one thing: If William were not complaining about something, they would be in serious trouble.
Alex then pushed the pedal on the floor and pulled back on the steering wheel. Under manual control, the ship proved enormously more difficult to operate. It felt as if he were physically lifting the entire stratoskimmer by himself. Slowly, the ship ended its dive and attempted to level.
An enormous roar reverberated from the engines. It was a sound that William had never heard on board a stratoskimmer before, and with its intensity, he felt as if his entire body was vibrating.
The lights on the dashboards flickered until the entire panel went dead. The shrinking holographic images of the striker crafts also disappeared in the processes. The stratoskimmer then sputtered and began to descend despite Alex’s best attempts to pull back on the steering wheel.
As the ship began to rock side to side, Alex struggled to regain control of the stratoskimmer. Sweat poured from his brow as the vehicle slowly approached the ground. Stone terraced mountain cliffs with a grassy plain below rapidly came into view.
Though an expert pilot and competitive aeronautical racer, Alex had never landed under such circumstances. In fact, he wished he could depolarize the engines in order to make the landing safer. But with all controls now on manual, he needed to bring the ship safely down without a single guiding instrument—and he had to do it before crashing into the mountainside.
“Hold on!” Alex shouted over the loud roar of the engines. He then pulled a second lever; to his delight, he felt the wheels descend from underneath the ship.
“This is going to get rough!” he bellowed.
Somehow avoiding the mountaintop, Alex steered the stratoskimmer toward an open grassy field. He could hear William behind him yelling something to the point that he hoped people recognized his corpse after it was all over.
“Here we go,” Alex said as the ship’s wheels smashed down on the grassy earth. “Hold,” he then said to himself pleading that the wheels did not break and send them into a death spiral.
Ever observant, William yelled, “Mountain!” as Alex cut the engines.
To their delight, the enormous noise ceased, though the ominous approach of the mountain ahead brought them no further solace. Alex then pulled a final lever hidden under the dashboard, deploying a parachute from behind the ship and bringing the stratoskimmer to a halt.
The team sat motionless as their ears continued to ring. The gravity of the situation slowly subsided as they all caught their breath. As usual, William was the first to speak. “Are we dead yet?” he groaned.
Alex unstrapped himself and looked to the back of the cockpit. “Everyone alright?”
The faces of pure exhaustion told him everything he needed to know. After taking a direct hit by an electric blast and having to land the ship manually, he was just glad to see that everyone was alive and in one piece.
“I’ve got to see how my patient is doing,” Marissa said. Stumbling to her feet after unstrapping herself, she proceeded back towards the hull. Before doing so, she gave Alex a little wink and attempted a smile to let him know she was proud of him.
That was all Alex needed.
“Tom,” Alex said, “I think that blast from the striker craft damaged the jet engines. They responded much better during the test flights.”
“We better have a look before we venture out of here,” Tom acknowledged.
Alex felt vindicated for all the time he had spent preparing for the electromagnetic disturbances they had just encountered. Since the world’s entire grid had been in fluctuation for over a year, he knew a backup means of flight would be necessary. Consequently, he added newer versions of an old jet engine design to his stratoskimmer. Because these types of engines were not as sensitive to fluctuations in the world grid as the modern electromagnetic dipole versions, it was the perfect addition.
“Where is here?” William asked.
“Before the dashboard went dead,” Tom answered, “it showed that we were flying above Peru at an ancient place known as Ollantaytambo.”
“Never heard of it,” William grumbled.
“I better fix the engines before Julius or any of his cronies arrive,” Alex said, getting out of his seat. “Tom, could you give me a hand?”
They had to manually lower the heavy door in the stratoskimmer’s hull to exit the ship.
Marissa brought their guest outside for some fresh air. She felt it would be much healthier than being confined inside the ship’s hull.
William gawked at the ruins of the ancient city upon exiting the ship. Staring up at the stone-terraced mountains and plateaus of massive monolithic stones, he could not but help ask himself who built such an enormous site. He surmised by looking at the smaller stones on top of the much more massive ones, that a newer city must have been erected on an older one. Though he wasn’t willing to admit it out loud, this place certainly piqued his interest as a scientist and researcher.
Alex walked up to the engine underneath the stratoskimmer’s right wing. Reaching above his head, he turned a knob and lowered a mechanical panel along its side.
“You bring the tool box?” Alex turned and asked.
“One step ahead of you,” Tom responded, holding a duffle bag around his shoulder.
Alex reached down and activated the gravity dampeners on his specially-engineered black boots. Disguised to appear as if they were New Reality standard WOG issue, he had designed them for his free fall out of Jules’ stratoskimmer. They also allowed him to levitate a few feet in the air if necessary.
“Looks like the electromagnetic field may be finally stabilizing,” Tom commented, noting how well the levitation boots were working. He then reached over his head and handed Alex the bag.
“For now,” Alex noted. “With the chaotic way the field has been fluctuating, things could change any second.” He patted the engine along its side. “And this right here is our safety net.”
Taking pride in his work, Alex was pleased with the engine’s success. Despite taking a direct hit from the striker craft, it continued to function and land them safely on the ground. His former robotics teacher would have certainly been proud of him. If he’s still alive…
“It seemed as if the blast fused a few of the blades here together and slightly melted a couple other parts,” Alex commented.
Light projected from his forehead into the engine. Utilizing what he designed and coined a “light-aid,” Alex had placed a small rectangular sticker above his eyes. Once activated, it emanated a tremendous amount of continuous light, which would last for almost four hours.
Alex then grabbed his trusted pocketeer out of the bag. Taking this pocketknife-like device, he deployed a screwdriver-like appendage that clicked out from the tool’s top end. Alex began to fix the engine once its tip started to glow a bright red.
“Will that do?” Tom asked. “It’s not like we have any spare parts around here.”
“We have rocks,” William chimed in sarcastically, “plenty of rocks. As far as the eye can see, there are rocks.”
“Being that rocks will not be of much help,” Alex responded, amused by his friend’s banter, “this will have to do.”
After five minutes of fiddling, Alex lowered himself to the ground while taking the light-aid off his forehead.
“Alex,” Marissa commented with a little smirk, “I must say, that WOG uniform is ve
ry becoming on you.”
Alex laughed. After the stressful situation he’d endured, the chuckle was much needed. Looking down at his attire, he then said, “I’ve been so caught up with everything, I must have forgotten to take it off.”
He looked over towards the Tibetan woman lying on the ground covered in a silver blanket with her head propped up on a similarly colored pillow. She held a sparkling crystal tightly against her bosom as if carefully carrying a child. William knelt by her side and dabbed a wet rag along her forehead.
“She’ll be fine,” Marissa said. “I think she is more air sick than anything else right now. Her body took to the biotag antidote rather quickly.”
The Tibetan woman suddenly sat up and turned to William. “We must get there,” she implored with a weak voice. “There is no more time.”
“Take it easy,” Marissa comfortingly assured, overhearing the conversation. She then walked over to her patient. “We will be leaving soon.”
“We must get there,” the woman reiterated with a little more strength to her voice.
“She says her name is Terzin and that she is the keeper of the Mark,” William said as he continued to dab her forehead. “And the crystal she is holding is what she refers to as the Mark.”
“What do you mean the Mark?” Alex asked her.
Terzin held out the crystal in response. “It will all happen again if we don’t stop it.” She looked Alex directly in the eyes. “You are all so naïve. Just like the elders. You know not what you are doing.”
“So, you say this crystal,” Alex commented, thinking aloud, “I mean, the Mark, has something to do with all the electromagnetic disturbances and seismic changes?”
“We must stop it before it happens again,” Terzin said, growing more anxious and beginning to sweat.
“Take a deep breath,” Marissa implored. “Rest, and you can tell us more about it when we’re safely in our hideout.”
Terzin became more frantic, “No, no!”
William continued to pat her on the forehead. Forever a bachelor, he was at a total loss of words when dealing with a woman.
The Final Reality (Alex Pella, #3) Page 10
