The Coming Storm_A Pax Aeterna Novel

by Trevor Wyatt

  Gresh gets into the car, and we shoot into the air. We race into the normal air lanes, and soon we’re traversing the many skyscrapers of the Residential Estate.

  Gresh is a bit reckless with his driving, and I have to caution him thrice.

  “Why do you care?” Gresh retorts at the last time. “You are the epitome of recklessness.” I hear the anger and bitterness in his voice.

  “I am only reckless when it’s necessary,” I reply. “What you’re doing is plain stupid. If the airway patrol cops see us, they’ll definitely stop us. Then will we be toast.”

  After this little exchange, Gresh’s driving becomes a little better. We cross into the Industrial Estate and fire off towards Gresh’s archaeological lab, which is located not far from the Industrial Layout, where it all began. I find it quaint. The whole Estate is flooded with lights from multiple sources: buildings, streets, and floating light bots.

  Ten minutes later, Gresh is steering the aircar on the street right next to the door of his one-story building. The street isn’t deserted, but it’s lightly treaded, and there’s no police presence, so I don’t give Gresh a flak for being so stupid as to pack right in front of his office, when we have someone tied up and unconscious at the back.

  I hop out of the car and grab the assassin by the wrist. She jolts to consciousness with a scream. Instinctively, I slam my fist into the back of her head, and she blacks out again.

  I chance a glance at Gresh. He’s fuming at me.

  “I had to,” I say in my defense. “Go on and open the door, while I get her out.”

  Gresh alights from the air car and heads over to the door. I watch as he looks up and down the street before placing his right palm on the hidden palm reader on the right wall by the door. The door lights up before opening.

  I grab the assassin’s form and heft her onto my shoulder. I make a short dash into the house to reduce our exposure. Gresh locks the door, then comes and helps me carry the assassin up to the lab area. I set her on a chair by the workstations, reworking her binding, so she has little mobility. I know she is going to wake up to an intense sensation of pain with the angle her hands make because they are tied behind the chair, but I don’t mind. It all works to my advantage.

  I send Gresh to get me a container of water. He obliges me, returning some seconds later with one.

  I am about to splash the assassin into consciousness when I hold off. I look at Gresh.

  “Are you sure you want to be here?”

  Gresh nods.

  I give him an unconvinced look. “I can’t have you stopping me when I begin. You can wait downstairs.”

  Gresh's arms are folded across his chest. He doesn’t look at me, nor does he say anything.

  “Okay, then,” I say. I splash the water on the Sonali’s face.

  She jolts awake. First sputtering then almost immediately crying aloud for pain. Gresh’s hands fall to his side as he plans to help her. I interpose myself between them and look Gresh in his slits, showing the anger bristling all over me through my eyes.

  “Stay away, or I’ll make you stay away,” I mutter, speaking every word singly.

  Gresh holds my gaze for longer than I anticipated. I almost think I’ll have to knock him down, then he retreats to the corner of the room. He’s still close enough to monitor my interrogation, yet far enough not to be compelled by his emotions to intervene.

  Works for me.

  I turn to face the assassin, whose face is contorted in intense agony. I feel no sympathy for her…none at all.

  “Look at me!” I roar, and her head snaps up, slits widen in extreme terror.

  “At the end of this whole thing,” I say, “you will tell me everything you know. It’s all a matter of how much you can withstand pain. From what I can tell, that’ll be not much.”

  The Sonali assassin blinks at me, unsure of what to do. There’s a mixture of fear and pain in her face.

  “I will hurt you in ways you never thought would be possible,” I say in conclusion. “If you don’t tell me everything I need to know.”

  I bend to my boots and slowly pull out a ten inches blade with serrated edges. The Sonali watches the blade come up with complete attention, even as the blade glinted in the sharp glare of the overhead lights. I twist the blade around for her benefit.

  “Terran chee-chee,” she mutters. “I will tell you nothing.”

  And I plunge the blade into her thigh.

  Cookie howls out in pain. Gresh is squirming and shutting his eyes.

  “There’s a whole lotta pain coming to you, babe,” I whisper. “Why not make it easy on yourself and finally cooperate? You know you’re going to eventually.”

  Cookie’s head droops, and I know she’s finally been defeated. I can sense it based on my nanites and her electrochemical reaction. She’s ready to give up.

  They all do. No one can beat me.

  “I don’t know very much,” the assassin begins, “but I will tell you all I know.”

  I nod, smiling kindly at her. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

  “I was brought into the conspiracy by my commander during the war, Noble Marshal Yanik. He was able to bring me into the war because I was loyal to him…and I remain loyal to him.”

  “Yet you killed him,” I say. “You don’t know a thing about loyalty.”

  “I had to!” she screamed, her eyes brimming with tears. “You don’t know what it’s like being torn between two rights. I had no choice. I may be loyal to Noble Marshal Yanik, but I am also a faithful servant to the Sonali religion. I have been a faithful servant since before I joined the navy, since before the war, since before I met Noble Marshal Yanik and pledged my loyalty to him.”

  “So you just easily assassinate the man you claim to be loyal to?” I say.

  The Sonali girl looks at me with deep profundity. “Easy?” she says, as though she didn’t understand the meaning of the work. “Easy?”

  “Yep, that’s what I said.”

  She shakes her head. “When Cleric Szaad told me to assassinate my former commander, I struggled with it. It was anything but easy. In fact, I thought I couldn’t do it. Cleric Szaad had to persuade me before I reluctantly agreed. So, Terran spy, I didn’t find it easy killing my former commander.”

  “Why did the Cleric, whom until now worked well with the Noble Marshal against the Origin Movement, order the Noble Marshal’s death?”

  “Because he wouldn’t go with the Cleric’s plan,” the Sonali says. “You see, for a time, someone else has been fueling this conspiracy with weapons and media access to spread the message. But then they came up with a plan that the Noble Marshal could not stand because it violated everything he stood for.”

  At this moment, the tears begin to fall down her face. I still don’t empathize with her.

  “And what is this great plan the Noble Marshal found so terrible he couldn’t side with it?” I ask.

  The Sonali looks me in the eyes, tears streaming down her face, and says, “I don’t know. What I do know is that the High Cleric is about to do something heretical at the temple.”

  No-One

  Something about the way she says that causes a large alarm to go off in my head. It kind of startles me. I remain rooted where I stand, looking at the assassin.

  She flashes me an irritated look. “You’d better hurry there. I don’t think he’s planning on waiting.”

  I don’t need to be told one more time. I swivel on my heels and hightail it down to the ground floor. Of course, Gresh is yelling for me to stop and think. I don’t listen to him. So far, all he’s done is bitch about my methods. Now, here I am trying to stop one of his people from doing something terrible at the Temple and he wants to bitch.

  “Stop, No-One!” I hear him call after me as I leap over the last few steps and land on the floor, walking in leaps and bounds.

  “Lock door!” I hear him call from behind me.

  “Locking door,” comes a reply.

  I slam into the door and
bounce back. I turn to see Gresh making his way down the flight of stairs to the ground floor.

  “What’s your problem?” I say to him. “You heard what she said. Why are you trying to stop me?”

  He closes the distance between us and grabs my shoulders—a bold move because my gut is telling me to punch him so hard in the nose that his entire generational line would feel it through time and space.

  “I’m trying to stop you from doing what I think you want to do,” he replies, shaking my shoulder and causing my teeth to rattle.

  It takes sheer will not to overpower him and beat the crap out of him.

  “And what do you think I want to do?” I ask. “You heard the assassin. Something bad is about to happen at the Temple. I’m going there to stop it. You should be happy I’m not sending you, instead. Don’t forget, I have dirt on you…aiding and abetting a Terran spy…?”

  This is enough to get him to back down and back off a few steps. However, he recovers from his shock fast.

  He folds his arms.

  “Look, I don’t have time for a debate,” I say, impatient. “Open the fucking doors and let me out, unless…”

  He sneers at that. “The Temple is forbidden to non-Sonali. You can’t just storm into the Sacred Temple. They’ll gun you down first and ask questions later.”

  I smile at that line. I myself have done things like that in the past. “Look,” I say a little wary, as I’m losing my initial steam. “I’ll sneak into the place if that’s what you like, but I have to leave now otherwise we may not be able to prevent what the Cleric’s actions would cause.”

  “Open door!” Gresh says.

  I hear the door unseal behind me. I don’t turn to the door immediately.

  “Let me come with you,” he says. “We can work out something. Maybe I’ll distract the guards, and you’ll enter somehow…I don’t know.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re beginning to care for me now…” I say.

  He laughs it off. “I care for the cause. Perhaps, you and I are the only ones who seem to know what’s going on. If we don’t stop this, the world won’t know what hit them.”

  I turn and march towards the door. “Stay with the assassin. Don’t let her out of your sight. If she makes trouble, just knock her out. I’ll send someone from the Terran Embassy to come pick her so you won’t be investigated.”

  “You have no intentions of sneaking into the Temple, do you?” Gresh says.

  I chuckle sinisterly. “Of course not. I intend on fighting my way through.”

  I engage the autopilot as soon as I get into the aircar and input the coordinates for the Sacred Temple of the Holy Combine. I tap the emergency button. This aircar is specially retrofitted for my use as an agent of the Terran Armada Intelligence.

  The autopilot kicks the aircar to air-lane altitude in seconds. The aircar makes a beeline approach to the Temple, screaming at a speed that has the seat sucking me in. As I am headed to the Temple, a couple of scenarios are running through my mind. I’m especially thinking about the quandary of how I’m going to gain access into the Temple.

  Shouldn’t they just let me in, seeing as I’m there to save their sorry asses?

  But I know more than most that life just doesn’t work that way. Perhaps they don’t know what the Cleric is up to.

  What is he up to?

  I don’t even know. Is my timing off? That’s another question I face. Because if I’m right to be on to him, but if the timing is off, I’ll just end up tipping the Cleric off and getting arrested or most probably shot.

  However, the Sonali kind of made it seem so urgent that I get to the Temple as quickly as possible.

  But should I have trusted her so quickly?

  I wonder at myself. The map shows that we are almost at the edge of the Capital Grid, specifically less than two minutes out.

  I realize then that I have a decision to make. Burst into the Tempe, guns blazing without a clue of what I’m looking for or where I’m headed to. The explosion at the docks gives me an idea of what might be involved at the Temple, but I can’t be sure.

  Or turn back and pressure the Sonali for more information.

  It takes me only a minute to reach my decision. By this time, I am getting an incoming hail from the Temple’s security command center.

  “Unidentified air car on course towards Temple,” comes the voice in the air car, “turn back now or we will fire on you. We will not repeat this. Turn around right now.”

  At that moment, I take over from the autopilot and execute a forty-five degree nose dive for the sandy path leading up to the gate.

  A hidden twin barrel laser gun lets rip, missing my vehicle by the fraction of a second. I don’t let go of my downward motion, though every alarm in my vehicle is blaring. At the last moment, I pull up and jerk the choke to the right.

  The aircar slams into the ground and spins out of control, its forward motion unabated. It crashes into the gate, spinning at a terrifying rate and sending sparks in all direction. Guards open fire from all direction, but their aims are widely off. As soon as I notice the car’s motion beginning to abate, I pull out my gun and knife. I smash both my booted legs into the door of the aircar, and it tears off its hinges, cascading into a group of guards.

  While the car is still spinning, I leap out, executing a quick triple roll in midair and landing nimbly on the first set of stairs, my gun aimed at the knot of guards at the door.

  I take five quick shots in succession, and they all collapse to the floor, stunned. I dive out of the way as laser fire is unleashed on my previous position. I twist, bringing my gun to aim at the line of three guards in the courtyard advancing on the steps. I fire thrice, hitting them all in their midsections. They collapse in a heap, paralyzed.

  I come to my feet, gun and blade ready for more fights. Then, an alarm goes off. They know I’m here.

  I run through the doors into the main lobby. Down the hallway, I see a phalanx of guards running my way. They’re all carrying assault rifles. As soon as they spot me, they raise their guns to aim.

  I turn away and run towards the wall. I can take the steps that turn all the way to the second floor, but I’m hard-pressed for time. I leap several yards into the air and land on the wall like it was the ground, then I leap off the wall and kind off saunter through the air onto the landing of the first floor.

  “Where did she go?” someone yells under. “Find her now!”

  I run through the hallway that leads me to a large chamber with a dome-shaped glass ceiling that allows moonlight to come through. It’s like a mini courtyard. On the edge is a small gutter through which a thick shimmering liquid is flowing. There is a soft wind blowing through the courtyard; I’m not sure if there’s some sort of fan somewhere or if the wind is natural. The wind carries the freshness of spring and the warmth of summer. It’s delightfully soporific, and for a time I’m taken by the peacefulness of the courtyard, which calms my inner raging beast.

  The sound of running boots behind brings me back to reality.

  “Computer, are the nanites that were released in the temple still working inside the lockdown?” I mutter to my mini-pad, leaping across the vast courtyard to the other side. There is a small stone door in the wall. Now that I’m in the region of the temple’s shielding, I should be able to get a scan of the building, and if the nanites are still embedded in the electronics, I should be able to get the data.

  “Yes,” the computer replies in my ears.

  “Okay, activate them and have them find Cleric Szaad,” I say.

  I look through the corridor, where I came from, to the landing. I watch as the guards pour into the landing. Some head on straight, while others cautiously pass into the hallway. I slip out of direct line of sight, looking around for an exit.

  There are no mechanical lights here, only natural light. The courtyard is one big, mysterious vertical cylinder, with only one way in and no way out, except the small stone door and a set of stone steps away to my left that l
eads all the way around the curved walls of the courtyard to the top, where I can see a ledge.

  Probably a dead end, I guess. I fall into a defensive position, my gun aimed at the mouth of the corridor, ready to fight my way out of this dead end.

  “Found,” the computer says in my ears. “He’s in the main worship Hall.”

  “And where is that?” I mutter, my eyes peeled on the hallway. The soldiers must suspect my presence because they have stopped and are only approaching with extreme caution.

  “You are presently in the anteroom,” the computer says. “Proceed through the small door into the main worship hall.”

  I let loose a barrage of laser shots into the hallway and inch into direct line of sight and tap the small knob on the door. It recedes and then slides out of the way.

  I turn and run into the main worship hall. The moment I’m through, I dive out of the way as a couple of laser blasts slice through the air. I land badly on my left knee and feel it snap. I yelp, all efforts to control my fall failing. I crash into a set of pews, breaking them to pieces.

  The pain that wracks my body pales in comparison to the dread I feel when I see the High Cleric in the center of the impressively massive ovular worship hall standing beside a bomb.

  The guards pour into the hall and stop with their guns still aimed at the cleric and me.

  “What’s going on here!” the lead asks.

  “What’s going on here is that that mad cleric wants to destroy this Temple and I’m trying to stop him!” I yell in pain. I feel my nanites like cold water, flowing to my knees to repair my broken bone. I also sense a controlled dual release of a narcotic painkiller and a stimulant to keep me from succumbing to the soporific effect of the narcotics.

  When I notice that the guards are still struck by the sight before them, I yell at the top of my lungs. “Get the fuck out of here now!”

  The lead barks the order, and the guards retreat out of the main worship hall, shutting the door behind them.

  I manage to rise to my feet to get a good view of what I’m up against.

  What I see causes almost my heart to fail.