Atlantis Quadrilogy - Box Set

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Atlantis Quadrilogy - Box Set Page 29

by Brandon Ellis


  Captain Rivkah Ravenwood woke to a dimly-lit room, blinking lights around her. She was on a table and breathing heavily, her arms and legs strapped tightly, her head restrained by a heavy band around her forehead. The back of her head throbbed.

  Was she back in Underfoot Black? Wherever she was being held, didn’t sound or smell or feel like the Global Security Administration’s idiotic subterranean hideout. She’d only spent maybe a week and a half in the bowels of GSA’s underground base of operations, but she’d gotten used to the echoing footfall of guards and medics; as well as the damp odor of sweating walls and hothouse vegetables. No, she was no longer in Underfoot Black. But then where had they taken her? And how?

  The last thing she remembered was climbing out of the cabin window in West Glacier, Montana while Kaden Jaxx was fast asleep at his desk. They had escaped Underfoot Black, and stolen Special Agent Nick Cole’s Oospor Class 9 dropship. Only after Cole had tried to take her life. Small, but important detail. She was a marked woman. There were people after her. People who meant business.

  She had to leave the cabin and Jaxx. He could take care of himself. Well, he could if he remembered who the hell he was. If he kept up his doofy, “I am just an archaeologist” act, he was dead meat. But, that was his problem, not hers. A helicopter was coming in for a landing and she was pretty sure it was coming to take her. She ran, hid behind a tree, and then blackness. She had no idea how long she’d been out. She lifted her hand, to investigate the back of her head, but the band wrapped around the head of the table, and around her arms, made it impossible.

  The throbbing was probably caused by a smack to the back of her skull. Then she remembered his face. Right before she blacked out. Slade’s ugly friggin’ mug was the last thing she’d seen.

  There was no way of escaping Slade. If he wanted you, he had you, whether you hid or not.

  Her belly raged with fire. Anger shot through her veins and into her muscles. She cringed and lifted her head, stretching the straps that held her down. She might not have been good at hiding, but she was good at breaking out.

  It was pointless to lock her up.

  She strained against the strap. It broke and her head was free.

  There was a needle stuck in her arm; an IV. It was dripping a clear liquid. She kicked her leg out, breaking the restraint. She kicked her other leg out, breaking the other restraint.

  That meant that Jaxx was near. She could only do this – this power-thing – when Jaxx was in the vicinity, unless things had changed. Maybe she evolved, or the fucked-up power that Jaxx had given her was taking over.

  She closed her eyes, trying to locate Jaxx. She saw an energy trail, leading from one room into another. She followed it with her mind, her sixth sense, then hit a psychic wall and everything went white. Perhaps she wasn’t psychic enough to see that far – however far she was from him.

  “Screw this, I’m out of here,” she mumbled.

  She strained, pulling her arms toward her head, her biceps burning. A quick snap, and she was loose. She slid the needle out of her arm and jumped off the table.

  Blinking computer displays lined one side of the room, a black window on the other, a hazy light came from above. A door without a handle stood at one side of the room. She ran toward it and to her surprise, it opened on its own, exposing a hallway with a window in clear view, revealing a star-filled night. She was out in space again. “Far friggin’ out.”

  She took a step into the hall, fists at the ready, glaring through the window. A planet that looked like Mars, giving off a brilliant yellow-tan halo, was off in the distance, stars highlighted all around it. She stopped. Could she trust her senses? They’d done so much shit to her when they held her in Underfoot Black. They could make her hallucinate a space ship approaching Mars before they’d even had their damned breakfast. They were manipulative assholes, every last one of them.

  “Get back in your room, Ravenwood!” Captain Richard Fox, her old squad leader, her old enemy, growled. The man never spoke. He snarled, spat, barked, and glowered, but didn’t speak like a normal human being. He wasn’t capable. He was made of spite and malice, at the cellular level.

  She turned, getting into a Mui Thai stance, the angles of her feet rotated and faced Fox. He dropped his pointed finger and walked hastily toward her, his eyes cold and relentless, like the killer he was. He was accompanied by a small military team, all carrying IPR-8’s – Ion Pulse Rifles – long and bulky, though light weight. Good for close combat.

  Rivkah put her hands up in a fighting position, her right elbow and forearm close to her body to protect her solar plexus, liver, and ribs, her right fist close to her cheek bone; her left arm away from her centerline, also protecting the ribcage and solar plexus; her left fist at nose level.

  She could still feel Jaxx close by. Her odd powers fueled up, pumping more secret-sauce into her blood – whatever that secret-sauce was. She needed to get to him. Feed off him, tank up, drain his power source and take it into herself. She was a woman on a mission. She had to eliminate Fox to get to Jaxx. He needed to be eliminated. The message was as clear as any idea she’d ever had in her 32 years on the planet. Kaden Jaxx needed to be eliminated. Fox was a speed bump on her road to Jaxx and Rivkah Ravenwood had no time for speed bumps. She ate speed bumps for lunch.

  “You looking for some action, Foxy?” She spat on the ground and Fox stopped.

  He put his hand up, gesturing for the rest of his team to halt. He brought his IPR in firing position, closed one eye, aimed and smiled.

  Rivkah didn’t smile back.

  4

  Starship Atlantis ~ M-Quadrant, Solar System

  The Lecturn beeped. Fleet Admiral Lon “Wolf” Varnadore of the Secret Space Program appeared on the hologram. His black hair was slicked back. He eyed Colonel Slade Roberson and President Craig Martelle, a wolf sizing up his next prey. He beamed a fake smile. “Mr. President. It’s nice to meet you. Colonel, nice to see you again.”

  Martelle adjusted his tie and nodded by way of greeting.

  “The mission has changed, gentlemen.”

  The hologram shifted from Lon’s face to a massive ship orbiting Callisto. Jupiter, its luminous reds, tans, and turquoises, hung ominously in the background – its immense bulk dwarfing everything nearby, including the Secret Space Program’s Star Carrier Star Warden.

  “This footage reached us only minutes ago.”

  The camera zoomed in on the ship, passing through the ship’s exterior armor, swiftly moving past the hanger deck and into the engine room. It zipped through the entire floor, recording crew members in their bunks, the mess hall, and at their duties, then looped through a lobby and into the launch bay. There it stopped for a nano-second, perhaps a glitch in the network, then moved to the Officer Briefing room and up into the Bridge.

  Lon’s voice came over the Lecturn, “As you know, that’s Star Warden, one of three Star Carriers in the Secret Space Program fleet. It’s impenetrable. Or, so we thought.”

  Slade leaned in to get a better look at Admiral Gentry Race, someone he knew very well, but wasn’t too fond of. “Why are you showing us this, Fleet Admiral?”

  “Let the holovid complete.”

  Star Warden’s bridge shuddered and Gentry fell to the floor. The camera view shifted to the ship’s exterior, panning from Star Warden to Callisto, then racking focus on the turrets moon-side as they blasted electric-blue fire orbs at Star Warden, hitting it with ease. Star Warden returned fire. Plumes of rock, destroyed turrets, and dust filled Callisto’s atmosphere.

  Slade sat forward in his chair, glowering.

  More turrets popped up over and over again, as if Callisto had an unlimited supply and unlimited power. Missiles poured from Star Warden, IC’s and tracer fire followed. Still, the turrets continued to pop up and fire back, hitting the mammoth Star Warden as if it were just a few feet away.

  Slade and Martelle watched as a piece of Star Warden’s armor slid back on its starboard side, exposing a la
rge nuclear war-head.

  A blue-light surrounded the Star Carrier, enveloping it in an energetic net, electricity flinging off the ship, like lightning grasping for something to touch.

  Callisto’s cannons let loose ion blasts, landing deep inside the war-head.

  The war-head exploded, slicing the upper portion of the ship in half, like a knife through butter.

  The president covered his mouth and looked away as the crew poured out of Star Warden. They’d taken to the stars to save mankind, not scatter them throughout space.

  Slade stayed focused, his eyes dead set on Admiral Gentry Race spinning away from Callisto, his arms and legs flailing like someone drowning, grasping for something, anything.

  Then he saw someone out of the corner of his eye enter Callisto’s atmosphere and fall away from the camera’s view. It was a woman. She was young. He knew her – Captain Katherine Bogle. He was glad he didn’t have to see her burn up in Callisto’s atmosphere.

  Lon’s face came back on the holoscreen. “Callisto fought back.”

  “So?” Martelle’s face was pale and his hands shaking, but his voice remained calm. “We take it to the next level. I am not backing down. I made a promise to the American people. I am going to bring them to that new shining city on a hill. We are going to found a New United States.” Spoken like a true politician.

  “We are not fighting against the Draconian’s Psy-bots or Pleadian Pirates, Mr. President. We are fighting against a military with technology more advanced than our own. We have spotted anomalies on Callisto that would suggest an AI – an Artificial Intelligence – runs the entire city and weapon infrastructure on that moon. That is more dangerous than any Being we’ve encountered. A computer-based system that hasn’t been touched by man or any other Being to restrain its intelligence evolution can outwit and out-build any race, even the Bulgs of Mynoria. We’d need a long plan to take Callisto. We’d need a fleet, an army, and enough nukes to blast their AI into the stratosphere.”

  Martelle fidgeted with his suit. He’d never heard of Pleadian Pirates or Psy-bots, and what was this nonsense about AI? “Are you saying that the hostiles are AI based?”

  The hologram cut to a statue of a woman with a device around her ears. The coiled device went around the back of her head, glowing a blueish-white. “That’s the AI,” said Lon. “Princess Leia...that’s what we’ve been calling her. We haven’t detected any other intelligence on that moon. It’s run by one statue. No flesh, fur, or scale-based Being exists on that moon...not that we have found.”

  “That seems easy enough. We target the statue,” said Slade. “A few blasts, the target is down, the AI is down.”

  “To get to the statue would be the issue. Yes, we could attempt to bombard it, but we don’t want to risk unnecessary lives or crafts. You just witnessed one of the three biggest ships in the Secret Space Program’s fleet being blown out of the stars. What you perhaps couldn’t see was Leia anticipating our next move. We never had the upper hand. We never had a fighting chance. They don’t just outgun us, they outwit us at every move. In under five minutes, thirty-thousand lives were lost, Mr. President. We suggest…leave it be and find another home, or go back home altogether.”

  Martelle sat straighter in his chair, his hands folded in his lap, making sure to be as passive as possible. “Admiral Lon…can I call you Lon?”

  Lon dipped his head.

  “Thank you.” Craig steepled his fingers together, then dropped them back in his lap. “Now, Lon. As president, I’ve taken the biggest risk any president has ever taken – I’ve evacuated my office, the entire government and their families, to come with me to a place that will allow for a more peaceful transition into a new United States of America, a United States that keeps our forefather’s sacrifices intact, along with their ideals of a Republic; ideals on which the Secret Space Program was initially founded.” Martelle paused, waiting for Lon to understand what he was getting at.

  Lon didn’t blink.

  Martelle went on, “As you know, the president doesn’t just preside over the citizens of our country, but over the military as Commander in Chief, as well as the Commander in Chief of the Secret Space Program. Eisenhower was ahead of his time when he created the SSP. He put an Off-World Power Act in place, allowing the president of the United States to seize control of the Secret Space Program for ninety days until Congress deems the Act allowable or unnecessary.” He paused again to see if Lon understood the situation.

  Lon remained expressionless. He was probably used to politicians who he thought totally missed the point.

  The president leaned forward, bringing himself closer to the camera to be sure his image was as large as possible on Lon’s holoscreen. He meant to imprint his face on the Wolf’s heart and in the Wolf’s memory. “You’re under my command, Lon. What I need you to understand is we’re going to Callisto.”

  Lon nodded. “One last thing, Mr. President.”

  Martelle nodded.

  “Princess Leia has been transmitting a message. Star Warden didn’t have time to decode it, but we have.”

  “Excellent,” said Martelle.

  “It says, ‘Captain Katherine Bogle, call Kaden Jaxx home…’” It was Lon’s turn to let the information sink in. His audience was, predictably, silent. “That’s right, folks. The AI on Callisto knows Jaxx and Bogle by name. Now, want to tell me how we’re going to outwit them?”

  5

  Starship Atlantis ~ M-Quadrant, Solar System (Near Mars)

  Starship Atlantis. He was really, truly on Starship Atlantis, a cruise ship in space, but a hundred times bigger. Jaxx stood in front of a holographic kiosk, Slade next to him with his arms crossed at his chest, and watched the Public Service Announcement for the fourth time. He bit his lip, only now understanding why everyone – from his room to the first deck’s lobby – was staring at him, like he was a Hollywood A-List celebrity.

  His own face jumped out at him from the PSA which ran like a soda pop commercial. “Archaeologist Kaden Jaxx, the man who knows pyramid power inside and out, will hook us up and hook us into the pyramids, giving all of us electricity. It is he who figured it out. It is he who will bring you light. It is he who will give you the luxuries you deserve. Kaden Jaxx!”

  President Martelle’s image popped up on the hologram, jolting Jaxx back to reality. “This message has been approved by the President of the United States.” Martelle’s hologram smiled, his teeth glistening a pearly white – far whiter than they should have been. “When you see him, thank him. He is the reason we can live safely on Callisto, and the reason you and your family will have a beautiful new place to live.”

  A futuristic house spun across the kiosk’s holographic frame. “The future is now and your home awaits. Imagine amenities, such as your own self-cleaning pool; compliant, double-safety-locked robots as butlers and maids; and don’t forget, your very own rock waterfall smack dab in the middle of your living room. Or, you can choose...”

  “Let’s go, Jaxx.” Slade turned on his heels and headed to the ops room.

  Jaxx followed, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder at the kiosk. “You’re telling these people that they can live on a moon that you have never visited, that hasn’t been tested other than by a satellite. It’s a lie.”

  “Those pyramids have an energetic signature that’s off the charts, Jaxx.” He leaned his head to the side, veins bulging out of his thick, reddening neck. “Don’t fuck with me, Jaxx. You’re going to do what you said you could do. You don’t have a choice.”

  They strode up to the central ops room. Jaxx slammed his hand against the door, keeping it shut. “Those were theories.” His voice was low and urgent. If only he could get Slade to understand his position and turn the damned ads off. “Yes, I think the theories and the blueprints are sound. Have I ever turned a pyramid on? Hell no. You don’t just mosey up to a car and rebuild its engine because you have blueprints on how to rebuild it, especially when you’ve never worked on an engine before. You nee
d the three ‘E’s, experience, expertise, and erudition evolution.”

  Slade frowned. “Those are four ‘E’s, Jaxx. Two of the ‘E’s are in this room and I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about with the two other ‘E’s, but they are probably in that room as well. Now, get your goddamn hand off the door.”

  Jaxx lifted his hand and Slade pulled the door open, pushing Jaxx in first.

  The room was full. There were more scientists than Jaxx remembered, plus a window, something he didn’t have back in the Underfoot Black ops room, back on Grenada. Man, but that felt like it was a lifetime ago, though it was only a matter of days since they’d been underground, on Earth, studying an impossible moon…and here they were, much less than half-way there already, but on their way nonetheless. So, he’d been kidnapped and taken into space against his will. Worse things had happened.

  The thrum that had struck him earlier, hit again, making his entire body vibrate. It was a song, of that he was sure. It had a melody he’d never heard, notes he hadn’t known existed, and words he could barely hear, but it was building in him, this song. And teaching him a new way of…

  “Welcome back, buddy.” A small, bulbous man with a receding hairline patted Jaxx on his back. He held a smile and a beaming aura.

  Jaxx couldn’t help but grin. “Jon Shaughnessy.” He gave the guy a hug. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

  Shaugnessy looked down at his belly, pursing his lips. “At least you aren’t seeing me in my skivvies, this time.”

  Jaxx frowned, extending his hand. “About that – ”

  Shaughnessy waved him away. “No, no. No need to apologize. I know you were in a predicament and couldn’t do anything about it.”

  Jaxx relaxed, his shoulders dropping. Rivkah had forced him into Shaughnessy’s room at gunpoint when she was trying to escape Underfoot Black. It was very decent of Shaughnessy not to hold a grudge.

 

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