by Angela Timms
The Phoenix Rising
Infinitology
Book One
The Covenant
Angela Timms
Copyright © 2014 Angela Timms T h e A u t h o r a s s e r t s t h e m o r a l r i g h t t o b e i d e n t i f i e d a s t h e a u t h o r o f t h i s w o r k .
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in any retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the author’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
ISBN: 1499678606
ISBN-13: 978-1499678604
DEDICATION
For my mother and father They may have passed over but they will never be forgotten.
Wild weather beneath the stars Secrets whisper as something stirs Dreams of magic often wished When a nasty dose of the mundane is dished
So smile my friends as you have more A world of wonder behind every door Imagination is the greatest gift It creates stories and opens the rift.
A journey to eternity starts with a step A breath A cry A whisper to the universe that something is happening Something old Something new A message to the world that there is hope And faith after betrayal And justice where nobody would hear your truth A mystery A solution An echo in eternity Flowing like ripples through the ether Forming like a shadow on the mind…
Fugi 2014 Theone who does not fear is a fool. The one who lets fear be the master is a coward.”
1
Kel hesitated outside the door and took a deep, dry and slightly dusty breath. He held it for a moment to calm his nerves and then breathed out. Anticipation and doubts ran through his mind in a spiraling twist of excitement and fear.
He looked over his shoulder for a moment as his body tensed. His hand involuntarily brushed his side where one of his Kerillian Blasters hung underneath his coat. He found it reassuring. There was nobody on the street nearby and he was alone on the dusty windswept veranda that circled the building. He could see both ways clearly as light flooded from the windows illuminating the windswept sun bleached boards as the storm shutters were open. The only other illumination on the street came from the houses between the shops, the whore house down the road and the livery stable. The doors of the stable were open, inside the lanterns were lit and the owner was busily bedding down the horses as the last of them came in for the night, their riders trail worn and dusty.
Kel turned to focus on the weather beaten bare wood door in front of him. He was a tall man, broad shouldered and muscular. His black curls tumbled down his back over his black leather duster coat. Now that he was momentary stationary the crow feathers woven into his hair were blown about by the howling wind that blew down the street.
The scent of old wood, stale alcohol and smoke filled his senses mixed with a vague aroma of sweet grass. He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flashing from left to right, trying to penetrate the darkness that hung between every building. Something in a latent memory was troubling him but nothing he could grasp so he translated it as a feeling that someone was watching him. Deep down he knew it was just being outside after so many months of being cooped up on star bases so he mentally brushed it aside as irrelevant though it lingered disturbingly on the peripherals of his consciousness.
His six foot six frame almost brushed the top of the doorway. His muscular shoulders blocked the light from flooding out as he took a deep breath, opened the door and strode inside. His initial glance scoured the room, assessing the threat level before he turned slightly and closed the door behind him. He didn’t hesitate once inside. He took a step, his heavy metal shod boots made little noticeable sound over the hum of conversation. He looked around the bar, his dark menacing eyes taking it all in as he did a visual sweep of the area. His determined expression accentuated his heavy brow and thick set, handsome, slightly primitive features. Those who noticed him fell silent and looked away, trying not to get noticed. Others continued their conversation oblivious to the imposing, menacing stranger. He strode to the bar, his coat sweeping just above the dusty sawdust strewn floor. As he walked it swung away to reveal his blasters which looked to anyone who was paying attention like a pair of Colt Peacemakers, one on each side. The bandana of daggers across his chest glinted in what little light there was. Some saw the guns, some the daggers, any which saw either instinctively fingered weaponry to experience the reassurance of their proximity.
The candlelight cast an eerie glow over the faces of those who sought solace and entertainment at the Black Lamb Tavern. The wind outside howled around the buildings making the tavern sign swing. There was little left of the painting of a black lamb, it was blasted by the weather and bullet holes. The gusts of wind blew rubbish and vegetation down the street and around the small tavern in an outback town known as Whitewater on the planet of Kulak. It was a tiny planet almost lost in its solar system. It was an insignificant green and blue ball that nestled precariously between two far larger planets as the three jauntily orbited their shared sun. It was insignificant in the grand schemes of the universes but the only world for those who lived there.
On the tiny planet in a tiny mining town the buildings were generally built of wood and they clung tenaciously to the wide main street. Some had obviously been constructed in a hurry a long time ago and the planks of wood that had been nailed to make repairs gave the buildings a patchwork appearance. Paint appeared to be rare as most of them were made of the same unpainted weather beaten planks. The only paint that was visible was on the shop fronts where their owners had made a real effort. These were freshly done and a stark contrast to the shabby thrown together appearance of the rest of the town.
Across the road from the Black Lamb and on almost every corner there was a shop eager to supply those who travelled many miles for their specialist stock. The hand painted signs proclaiming that the shops when they were open were selling the famous bottled white water or strange concoctions involving it in some way or the other.
Inside the tavern Kel was looking around the room again and taking in faces. That made the inhabitants nervous and many tensed and their hands involuntarily or voluntarily moved to where concealed or not so concealed weaponry was secreted. Conscious that he was alone in a bar full of strangers who were probably all armed he couldn’t help but be cautious. He looked and he looked again. His body was tensed, expecting trouble any moment. He looked, he evaluated and he adjusted his first impressions and guide book influenced expectations of this being nontechnological back water to something a little more realistic considering what he was seeing. To even the casual observer it was obvious that what was considered a low level of technology by many was actually quite the opposite. Although not overtly obvious as Kel took in the scene it didn’t take him long to spot the technology. He noticed a watch here, a terminal there, a keypad in an open bag. He noticed one or two eyes that were too bright in the darkness, hands moving small black boxes around on the wooden table tops or wearing black gloves, their owners staring into space with an intent expression as their fingers moved almost undetectably. There was enough for him to realize that the outward appearance concealed an underlying level of development he had not been expecting. He raised an eyebrow when it occurred to him that he was being scanned and a chi
ll ran down his spine as he realized that he was probably being lined up with many weapons that were carefully concealed.
Each table was lit by a candle dug into a mound of wax from previous candles and roses of candles hung from the ceiling at strategic points around the room. The tables were old, their wood worn by countless customers over the years and obviously mended many times. The tavern itself was rustic, the windows dusty and the floorboards coated with a dusting of dirty wood shavings that concealed the wooden floor.
The bar stretched across the far wall of the room. Behind it the barman had been busying himself with washing glasses. Kel watched him as he broke off from his task to serve a couple of customers with a shot of whisky and a glass of a blue local drink before sitting down to chat with the lone customer seated at the bar. He had obviously noticed Kel but he was either being subtle or overtly ignoring him. As Kel got to the bar the barman hesitated, came over and put his hands on the bar, cloth in hand to meet Kel’s stare.
The barman was a tall thin man in his mid-thirties. His face was clean shaven other than a neatly trimmed moustache and his short hair which was neatly combed. He had a friendly expression and there was something reminiscently weasel like about his features and he looked very nervous. The box of broken glasses behind the bar wasn’t lost on Kel. The lacerations on the barman’s face and hands had all been noted. The customer seated at the bar was a tall, portly individual dressed in a well- worn voluminous buckskin jacket and fringed trousers. His full beard and moustache enveloped his glass as he raised it to drink with a work hardened and scarred hand. The brown colouring of his jacket had long been lost in the grey dust from the road and the mongrel dog curled up at his feet was apparently asleep. He cast a sideways glance at Kel and went back to his drink, still keeping an eye on him and his hand cautiously moved to his side where there was a tell-tale slightly angular bulge under his coat.
The bar was crowded, every table was full or nearly full and the hum of conversation filled the air. Most of the customers were smartly dressed. The men favored black suits, waistcoats and thin ties fastened around mandarin collars. The women elegantly fluttered about in wide hemmed and frilled long dresses which were held out by hoops. The women’s hair was generally dressed in curls which fell neatly to their shoulders.
In the corner a piano player was hammering out a tune and customers around the room involuntarily tapped out the rhythm with their fingers. It was only when the pianist reached for his drink and the piano carried on playing, the keys depressing by themselves that Kel realized he wasn’t playing at all. To the right a poker game was in full flow. Some customers were playing, some watched and the chips were piling up in the middle of the table. To the left was a roulette table, the wheel spinning, the resident’s financial fate hanging in the balance.
The barman took a deep breath and spoke in a broad accent. “And what can I get you sir?”
Kel looked about him, taking in the nervous expressions of those who were watching him, either overtly or covertly. “I’m looking for the Eridian Mercenary, Erasmus Deck. We received your narrowcast earlier today. I’m here to help.”
The barman looked relieved. “Thank the gods that someone was paying attention. He is upstairs, room seven. He has my barmaid with him. Please be careful, she’s a good girl. He arrived earlier today, demanded food and busted up a couple of my customers.”
Kel nodded once and the customers in the bar who had overheard what he had said now visibly relaxed and went back to their drinks. He could almost hear those safety catches going back on guns around the bar.
Kel took the stairs two at a time, pulling his blasters from their holsters and kicking the door in as he sprang cat-like into the room. He fired two shots before Erasmus knew he was there. The red beams cut through the darkness and ripped into the semi naked man who fell back onto the bed. The barmaid screamed and rolled away from the now dead corpse, grabbing what was left of her torn clothing she covered herself and ran for the door, past Kel and down the corridor.
Kel crossed the room and rolled the man over immediately taking in that everything about this man was expensive. He went through the pockets of his clothes that were strewn around the room, pulling out ID cards and other items which he swiftly pocketed. Then he caught sight of a case in the corner. It was open and the contents lay on the table beside it. A radio transmitter and a small black box, a small book and what looked like a pen. Kel slipped these into his deep pockets, turned on his heels and left the room. He strode down the stairs and threw a glance at the bar which was now silent. All eyes were on him.
The barman looked up and opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, hesitated then spoke in a broken voice. “Thanks.”
Kel strode on out of the bar, leaving a stunned silence as the door swung closed behind him.
The street outside was almost empty. Pockets of people stood around shop doorways and a couple of speeders which looked like carts without horses hovered along the dusty road. Kel stepped around the corner of the building as a Planet Hopper de-cloaked and the rear access ramp lowered. Its cylindrical chrome exoskeleton was starkly modern in contrast with the weather beaten wood of the buildings around it. A cat that had been stealthily stalking a mouse gave a loud meow and leapt to safety up a wooden wall and disappeared into the gloom.
Kel ran up the ramp as it closed behind him and the engines jumped into life. As he took his seat it glided effortlessly away with an almost silent swishing sound. Kel clipped on his seatbelt as the Hopper climbed sharply up out of the atmosphere, leaving the planet a blue and green ball ever decreasing in size.
The slight orange glow as they exited the planet’s atmosphere played on Kel’s face and illuminated the passenger hold. Everything was chrome and black, immaculately clean and efficiently stowed with the panels labelled to show what they contained.
The ship levelled out, inertial dampeners compensating for the acceleration of speed as it sped away from Kulak on the edge of the Nimbus Galaxy.
Kel smiled to himself as the intercom sprang into life and a silvery female voice spoke. “Welcome home Kel. I trust everything went smoothly?” “Indeed, without a hitch. Style and grace Shantara style and grace.”
“No loose ends? Did you get what you were looking for?”
“He won’t be carrying any more messages and I did thank you. I trust the wait wasn’t too tiresome.” He smiled to himself. His sullen features brightened as he raised an eyebrow and waited for her to answer.
“Not at all, always a pleasure. After all I had Rowland for company.” Unseen Shantara scowled and contemplated the switches and buttons on the control panel.
A thicker male voice chipped in. “Thank you, very kind of you to say so.” Kel nearly choked and stifled his laughter. He knew that even Shantara with all her meditation and training sometimes had difficulty around Rowland and his constant irrelevant chatter. “Our informant was right. He did have the communication devices. Now it’s up to the tekkies to see what they can get out of them. What’s on the screen Shantara, it’s just figures to me. Anything I should worry about? The figures are red and they are counting up.”
The intercom crackled slightly. Rowland’s voice chipped in. “Nothing to worry about, I left it doing a power reading and forgot to switch back, it will just keep on ticking up until the numbers go green. That’s the battery recharging its particles as we gather them on leaving the atmosphere and entering the inter-dimensional space.”
Kel stared into space blankly and he didn’t answer. The intercom crackled and Rowland’s voice came over it again, this time broken up. “It’s showing the recharge rate of the Eion Drive. I really must fix that intercom. Hold on a second.” It crackled and fell silent.
Kel cursed under his breath and shouted at the now dead intercom. “Rowland just leave things alone. Great, now the intercom is broken and you are going to spend the next few hours trying to fix it. So what do I do now?” Then he realized he was actually talking to the dead
intercom and shut up.
Shantara piped up. “Use the secondary intercom which only links to my headset. Its Rowland’s one that is broken. He is not getting his hands on mine. So, what do we do now to pass the time until we get back?”
Kel smiled. “No idea. I prefer the Hoppers where there’s a connection between the passenger hold and the crew cabin. Why didn’t we take one of those?”
Shantara took a while to answer. “Sorry, just removing some wires from over my control switches. Thank you Rowland, leave that alone or I swear I will shoot you. Right, that was in case we had trouble. The shielding between the crew cabin and passenger hold on the other Hoppers isn’t very strong, if you came in hot we could have been caught in the crossfire.”
Kel shrugged. “Can’t see why, they never worried on other missions. So, how long until we get back then?”
Rowland was mumbling intercom to speak. “Not long. evening?” Then she coughed nervously.
Kel looked down at the blaster in his hand and slipped it back into its holster and took the other one out. “I’ve booked the meditation room for a bit of unbridled sentimentality. It has been two years since the Followers raided my village. I thought I’d mark the anniversary. But I’m guessing you remembered that.” Kel paused in contemplation, something as Shantara clicked her So what are your plans for this staring at the window. There was a lost look in his eyes. “Well, its time I did the Ceremony of Remembrance. Yes I am fine and no I don’t need any company.”
Shantara’s voice was gentle, soft. “You want to talk about it? You’ve never said much about it.”
Kel looked down the sight of his gun. “I don’t talk about it but that doesn’t stop me thinking about it, but that is my business. It’s not something I’m going to forget in a hurry is it? Me and the rest of Mission Command I would guess. There isn’t one person there who hasn’t lost someone. You included.”
