Lilith: Eden's Planetary Princess (The Michael Archives Book 1)

by Robinson, C. E.

  Almost twenty L2 Oceania years ago, Collin heard the bell ring at the Logistics order desk. He looked up and saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen — a classic beauty — radiant cream-colored skin — deep auburn hair that easily turned black depending on the light — rich, green translucent eyes that glowed from within. Josephine introduced herself and announced she was opening ‘Josie’s Boutique’, a high-end clothing store right beside Frank’s Grocer. And that was when the trouble began.

  There were only a few individuals on the sidewalk along Main Street this early on Saturday morning. Collin glanced at the moon dial as he walked past Bill’s. It was only seven-thirty in the morning, way too early for Collin. Very few native residents and only a couple of visitors were up this early on a Saturday. The dockworkers, of course, were already quite busy preparing their lines and gangplanks for the arrival of today’s ships.

  There was already one small ship docked. Collin wondered if it was the one Frank had arrived on. The crew wore the standard duty, clean-cut white uniforms with no insignia. They were folding, winding, and stowing various items. There were no markings of any kind on the ship.

  Collin could tell the ship had been built for speed, likely with full stealth. Off in the distance, he could see three sets of large sails. In just a few hours, the island would be hopping with activity from hundreds of Angels on their way to or just coming back from Eden. There would be good pickings for Dr. Yummy at Bill’s tonight.

  How someone dealt with the horrors of incarnating into Eden varied wildly. Collin preferred to lose himself in Angels, drink, and smoke. SAS warriors gravitated to contact sports. Others meditated, prayed, and read.

  Collin caught sight of someone on the ship emerging from the deck below. Wearing a standard duty naval uniform, he walked to the side rail and looked over the harbor. Collin could only see his flushed profile. The veins in his hands popped while he gripped the rail. His right eye and right cheek were bandaged.

  The big man looked familiar. A tattoo on his right, rusty blue arm disappeared under his white short-sleeved shirt. With his square jaw and hair shaved to the scalp, he looked like he had been bred for battle, just the kind of individual Collin and so many others were thankful for — there to protect them from any surprise incursions the children of the Overlords might attempt. With only a glance, Collin could tell this Melchizedek was Valkyrie through and through.

  The Melchizedek sensed someone looking at him and turned to see who it was. As soon as he began to turn, Collin recognized Commander Vegu-Aniel Odinero, or Aniel to his friends.

  “Good morning sir,” Collin called out, hoping that it would not appear weird he had been staring at him. “Beautiful day.”

  “Good morning Lieutenant Striker,” he replied, his voice sounding like the entire weight of the war was on his shoulders. Collin was not surprised the commander knew his name. Notwithstanding that one mistake that put Collin in the hospital, Collin had been on a few of Aniel’s SAS insertions into Eden. On several missions, their activities had been coordinated with each other, with Collin usually working behind the scenes in a supporting role, and Aniel always at the tip of the spear.

  When Aniel turned, Collin saw that his left arm was in a sling and there was a third bandage covering a large portion on the left side of his face.

  “It is a beautiful day, isn’t it? A wonderful day to still be alive,” Aniel sighed. They exchanged a knowing smile and a nod, a simple exchange of understanding what it was like to survive war. “Commander. Let’s have a drink tonight at Bill’s,” Collin said, surprising himself.

  “Love to,” was his only reply. Aniel’s face relaxed some. Whatever mission they had been on, it had gone poorly. Maybe, just to be alive on Oceania and not in one of Prince Beliar’s brutal holding cells was reason enough to give thanks.

  Collin moved on. He rounded the street’s gentle curvature and saw someone sweeping off the boardwalk that ran in front of the stores. It was Fran. As always she was working.

  “Frank’s upstairs,” she said quietly, head down. It looked like she was attacking the sand on the planks with her broom.

  Collin was surprised to hear her speak but said nothing as he walked into the brightly lit store. Everything in the store was in perfect order, obviously Fran’s handiwork. Fran was always there — dusting, sweeping, mopping, organizing, dusting, sweeping, mopping, organizing, day after day after day, just as she was again today. Collin had not been in the store lately, not since the problem with Josephine, not since Frank had unleashed his anger on him.

  Collin heard the screaming as soon as he opened the private door to the stairs that led up to Frank’s apartment.

  “Goddamned stupid son of a bitch,” followed by a heavy object hurled to the wall or floor. “What the fuck were you thinking?” and then the sound of shattering wood.

  Collin took a deep breath and let it out. He slowly climbed the stairs. Collin wondered if Frank knew he was coming and was warming up for him. Regardless, he might as well face the music and get it over. There was no telling how long Frank would be in town. Besides, now that Collin had made the decision, he wanted to get it over.

  “Stupid, egocentric prick.” Glass smashed to the floor.

  The door at the top of the stairs was open. Collin gave an official, military two quick raps and then waited. “Yeah, come in…” an irritated voice called back. “…if you’ve got the balls.”

  Collin suspected the voice belonged to Laura and expected to see her in one of her casual dresses. He stuck his head in the doorway and looked around the living room. There was no Laura, only someone with bright yellow skin and short-cropped, blond hair lying on the sofa with a pillow under his stomach and the left side of his body hanging off the edge. His face was stuffed into a pillow. The individual was dressed in a black leather suit, with heavy boots, sword, knife, darts, and shuriken. A bow and quiver lay on the floor. This was the attire of an assassin.

  As the assassin started to rise, Collin noticed the black suit was tailored to accommodate breasts. It was Laura. Her face was dirty with scratches, some bruises, and what looked like very deep cuts.

  “What do you want?” she asked incredulously. She looked exhausted. “You weren’t part of this disaster were you?”

  “No, Ma’am,” he said thankfully. His life had disasters enough without being involved in whatever Frank was screaming about right now. Collin gasped when he saw the rank and insignia on Laura’s uniform. She was a Captain in the SAS Valkyrie. This pretty little yellow-skinned Angel, Frank’s favorite drinking partner, was an assassin.

  Collin knew Laura and Josephine were pals, so Laura had to know about the Josephine incident. He decided to confess and get it over with. “I’m here to see Frank to apologize about how poorly I treated Josephine.”

  A wry smile spread across her face. “Are you kidding?” she asked as she pushed herself up and painfully stood. There were multiple, bloodstained rags tied around her arms and legs. He could smell the blood.

  Collin shook his head no.

  “Talk about someone with bad timing. How perfect. I’m so glad I could be here for this.” With an amused grin, she pulled on his arm, stood him in front of Frank’s bedroom door, and bowed like the doorman to a luxury hotel.

  “Be my guest. Apologize to my beloved commander.”

  Chapter 17

  An Old Friend, A New Opportunity

  It’s not that I didn’t love Peg. I simply loved Indra more.

  —Kuko Kiena

  Celestial Realm of Elysium: Mansion World I Space

  Situated on a large asteroid in planar orbit around Pollux, Eden's Solar Orb

  Kuko Kiena and Castor Mayhew watched the transport grow ever larger as it descended to the landing platform. “She’s a beauty,” Castor remarked.

  Several high-ranking officers from the Luftforce had their own intelligence feeds monitoring the arrival of the Lanonandek transport. Several watched Castor Mayhew’s reaction. They expected him
to express at least some interest beyond perfect boredom; however, their lack of perception made them incapable of seeing the thrill that ran through him.

  “Fantastic,” Kuko replied. “The wings are as gossamer as a spider’s web. And see how precisely Pegasus is able to control such a range of shapes. Those wings are as subtle as her own.”

  Castor wondered how Kuko knew Pegasus was the pilot. Why should she not know? Castor’s personal intelligence team followed a very carefully designed traditional Nazz form. Kuko’s intelligence team? For all anyone knew, she could be redesigning it every week. And if some enemy field operative cracked one of Kiena’s codes, within hours, someone on her team would appear out of nowhere to deliver a reward of death for being so clever.

  Pegasus slowed the craft until it appeared to hover. She made a slow turn above the landing platform and pointed the nose back to the Rasa wind making for an easy takeoff. Castor and Kuko scanned every detail as the craft floated just above their heads. At this close range, the after-glow on the lifting jewels was still obvious. “Isn’t it wonderful, Madame Ku …?”

  There was a long pause.

  “Brother, are you seeing what I’m…”

  Castor fully opened his senses while memorizing, as best he could, one jeweled lift section after the other. Kuko did the same.

  The officers standing at the side of the platform did not notice this spectacular bit of Celestial engineering. They were more interested in the safety of their comrades. It appeared that the craft was just above Castor and Kuko’s heads and would soon crush them.

  But Castor and Kuko did not move. They studied the exquisite arrangement of sparkling jewels as the craft came ever closer. They knew Pegasus was one of the most skilled pilots in the Valkyrie. To step aside and give her more landing room would have been insulting. Moments later, the craft touched down with the pilot’s window right in front of Kuko.

  “Well isn’t this a kick in the head,” Pegasus said as soon as she rolled down her window. “I know I’m important, but doesn’t Indra need you to go kill something?”

  Kuko stood at a carefully calculated distance from the window. She did not want Pegasus to feel stifled but she definitely wanted to show interest.

  Pegasus untied the cord that held her hood in place. She pulled it back and took off her helmet, goggles, mask, and gloves. For the next few moments, she went through the shutdown checklist, first pulling and locking the levers that closed the protective hatches over the jewels. Even the slightest speck of dust on the jewels would alter the critical flow needed when flying at high speeds in the upper Celestial Waters. She retracted and raised the large support wings on the craft, while her own broad, white wings reduced to a more manageable size. She unlocked and pulled the handles for the three primary hatches, opened her own, and laid her helmet on the seat.

  And then, without a single thought about Aniel’s instructions — Don’t leave the pilot’s cab under any circumstances until you reach Salvington — she got out and performed a thorough inspection of her craft’s exterior, ending up at the rear main hatch.

  Pegasus hoped her excitement and happiness was not too obvious as she bowed to her old lover and her lover’s brother. They bowed back, curious and pleased at the angle of bow Pegasus used. It said everything about what would happen over the next few minutes. Kuko smiled. By then the pilot’s decree was in Kuko’s hand. She handed it to Pegasus.

  “Better late than never, many have been heard to say,” Kuko said with a smile.

  Pegasus took the decree. “Yeah, unless they’re being attacked by the Nazz in a firefight. Then you’ll see what late can do for you.” Pegasus quickly scanned the decree and smiled. “Sure. No problem. I’ll take care of this right away, Ma’am!”

  By her words, Kuko and Castor now had the pilot’s approval to open the hatches. Castor assumed his position at one side of the main hatch and Reginald on the other. Together, they gingerly opened the hatch.

  With the main hatch open, Castor walked directly away from the hull for several paces, turned right, walked, then stopped when he was exactly in line with the hatch’s center. He turned right, and then stepped forward until he was within one pace of the opening.

  With a somewhat bored expression, he scanned the occupants. Castor’s own intelligence sources had reported there were two or more occupants in the rear cabin. He confirmed none of them were Lord Smigyl. He identified who they were — Smigyl’s two sons, Guru Patanjali and Lord Rahu, and his niece, Pundit Chismael. He ignored them, briskly turning left and marching around the craft until he was perpendicular to the officer’s cabin hatch.

  By then, two Nazz workers had opened the hatch and placed opulent, gold encrusted steps in front of it. Castor verified that at least one of the occupants in the front cabin was Lord Smigyl.

  “Ah ha,” Mayhew said softly to announce his arrival. He casually walked up the steps, bowed properly with downcast eyes, handed Indra’s invitation to Smigyl, bowed properly, and then backed out, careful not to bump into Shorinam.

  Seconds later, Lord Smigyl stepped down and approached Castor. They bowed to each other. “Castor. I’m happy to see you. What does my brother, Indra have up his sleeve this time?”

  They walked around the back of the craft and were almost to the door when Smigyl abruptly stopped. He paused for five seconds, listening behind him, awaiting the signs of his children coming.

  Smigyl stuck his head in the transport’s main hatch and looked from one to the other. “What the fuck are you three beetle-heads doing? Waiting for a marching band? Want someone to hold an umbrella for you?” They quickly stood and walked toward him, but Smigyl had already hopped up into the doorway by the time they got there.

  He backhanded Chismael on the side of her head, a little persuasion to get her to move quickly toward the door. Razor-sharp silver eyes cut into Patanjali and Rahu.

  “You keep me waiting how long on Urantia? Now this? And I heard you scheming the entire fucking trip! I’m not going to ask you now. But in a little while, you’re going to tell me what you two are up to. So, get your stories straight. As for now, we’re going to stay a few days on Elysium. Lord Indra is throwing me a party. You boneheads are invited. Just one of you embarrass me in front of Indra and a few million Nazz…”

  His anger propelled them into the rain. Chismael was already on her stomach, prostrating herself in a large puddle. Patanjali and Rahu quickly joined her.

  Smigyl rejoined Castor and continued their conversation. Patanjali leaned up and waved Shorinam in behind Smigyl. Then the three reluctantly stood, jockeying for last.

  “Well. That was interesting. The kids in trouble again?” Kuko whispered to Pegasus as they watched Castor and Smigyl disappear behind a door. “Usually, when one of these clowns arrives, I have to say shit like, ‘In the name of Lord Indra, who has been honored to serve as master of Eden in the absence of the deeply missed Lord Rahu, who will soon again be crowned as Eden’s Planetary Prince, Ishmael, the unquestioned God and sovereign…’ blah, blah, blah…”

  “Then I’m happy you were spared the pain,” Pegasus said as she led Kuko and Salecia to the back cabin where the boxes were stacked. She was enjoying these few moments of informal interaction, knowing that if any Nazz other than Salecia, Kuko’s primary bodyguard, were within earshot, Kuko would be bound by strict Dek protocol.

  “Oh, it wouldn’t have stopped there,” Kuko said, looking desperate with boredom. “Shorinam would have introduced Patanjali, who would have rambled on about who knows what. And then Rahu would introduce Smigyl for forty forevers.”

  “It’s a wonder you haven’t slit your wrists,” Pegasus chuckled.

  “Who says I haven’t?” Kuko said, holding out her wrists. Several short, parallel white lines appeared and turned red.

  “Okay. You can just stop that shit right now, Kuko Kiena,” Pegasus groaned, knowing this little Panis trick far too well. In just a few seconds, Kuko would make the red lines open, bleed profusely, and a coupl
e of minutes later Kuko would appear, to almost anyone other than a highly trained examiner, dead — a horrible trick Kuko had pulled on Pegasus once while on Panoptia — a trick that had interrupted their relationship for several months.

  Kuko reached forward and grasped Pegasus’ hand in both of hers, giving it a few small pats. “Sorry,” she said with a sheepish smile. Humm. How convenient, Kuko thought. I guess she still cares. She released her hands and quickly changed the subject.

  “So what’s all this garbage?” she asked, pointing to the stacks of boxes. “And what bunch of dip-sticks stacked this stuff? Were they drunk?”

  “Except for a couple workers, I have no idea who they were.”

  Kuko looked at Pegasus, waiting for her to continue, but Pegasus did not respond; she just stood there staring back. Since Kuko had taught Pegasus this trick, she knew that Pegasus would not offer anything else without being asked a direct question. Satisfied that Pegasus had learned this lesson, Kuko continued with the conversation. “Really? Well, Peg? Who were the workers you knew?”

  Pegasus cocked her head. “Sorry Nazz Madame General Kuko Kiena. Ya don’t have high enough security clearance for me to tell ya.”

  Chapter 18

  Facing the Music

  You can only put these things off for so long. Because when it comes down to harming the Angels, everyone has to eventually face the music.

  —Lieutenant Collin Striker

  Oceania: Mansion World III Celestial Sphere in high orthogonal orbit around Eden’s Solar Orb, Pollux

  The door to Frank’s bedroom was slightly cracked open. Collin took a deep breath and let it out. He reached for the door, and then as he was about to knock, it flew open.