Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1)

by S. K. Benton

  This caused numerous faces to show a bit of confusion, but Max’s great smile kept this to a minimum. Then, suddenly, the young mage looked as if he were concentrating, and with his hands out in front, brought up an infoscreen, similar to what Draagh typically used. Gasps emanated from the crowd, with small bits of clapping, followed by numerous hushes. Then, Max looked up to the high table with a soft smile.

  “Lt. Escalante, would you please honor me with your presence?”

  Smiling, the stunning young lycan walked down the stairs from her place at the high table to accompany him, while he appeared to touch his infoscreen, causing accordion music to begin to play. As she approached Max, Draagh waved a finger around, and her military uniform gracefully and magically transformed into a white, tightly-fitting, mid-length dress with a sunken neckline, open at the sides, and revealing her gorgeous legs, while her shoes simultaneously converted to high heels. (*14*)

  The crowd was used to seeing occasional magic from minor-mages and even Draagh, but Jennie’s transformation was on a completely different level. She seethed with beauty and sensuality, and everyone felt it from their heads to their toes. No less than 10 men dropped their goblets, which caused more than a few to get backhanded and/or punched by their female companions.

  Tango music, indigenous to their Argentinean ancestors, played throughout the hall at perfect volume, as Max and Jennie expertly performed one of the most difficult, yet powerfully sexy dances ever devised by man. Men stared (at Jennie’s legs), and women were on the verge of tears of joy at seeing this incredible display of sensuality translated into a dance between two amazingly attractive people - two people who shared a chemistry that was apparent to everyone in attendance - except for the two Azul military officers themselves. Max would step back, with the alluring Jennie matching his steps precisely in a forward motion, eyes locked and both wearing mischievous grins, as their bodies seemed to navigate as one over the dance floor.

  If one didn’t know any better they would have believed the two were going to drop to the floor and begin to make love in front of everyone, but the beauty of the dance was that it left everyone on the edge of their seats.

  At the triumphant end of the performance, Max held his dance partner close, bent forward and low, and holding her back mere centimeters from the floor, with their lips nearly touching. The crowd burst to their feet, applauding and cheering. Then they started throwing things (heavy objects, not roses), because that was what lycans would do when they showed appreciation.

  Max simply waved his hand and conjured a protective shield as he held Jennie close, keeping their white clothing from becoming stained with the various airborne meats and goblets.

  After bowing in all directions, they headed back up to the high table, where Krynos exclaimed that every lycan should learn this tango dance, as it reflected the true beauty and grace of their people. Max and Jennie looked around, watching as various goblets, chairs, shields and food (as well as a most unfortunate servant) sailed across the room.

  Looking at each other, they snickered as Max quietly said to the girl, “I think we need to help them work on the grace part first.”

  After having taken their seats, Max happened to see his lycan skills trainer, Alea, walking through the party, dodging various airborne objects with great ease. Not having noticed her before, he wondered how Draagh was faring from her nightly visits to his quarters, but decided not to ask. According to rumor, he had a very particular set of skills when it came to pleasing women, despite his advanced age, and to ask him might have welcomed some unwanted, descriptive details.

  Alea had not approached Max since he had turned her down in his room, and for this he was glad. He had much to accomplish, and his relationship with Jennie was, well – it was complex.

  As the festivities continued for some time, Max later noticed Alea at a table, seated with some support staff, when the rarely seen resident mage of the castle, Siegfried, approached her and whispered something into her ear. She gave him a look of surprise, but Max paid it no further attention, and turned to his friends, now that Donus had returned to the high table and was telling tales of epic battles.

  Alea looked around nervously, and then left the dining hall. Walking down a dark, barely-lit hallway in the castle, she again encountered Siegfried, who motioned for her to enter into a room. He closed the door behind them and flipped back the hood of his cloak, which he always wore over his head. Upon doing this, Alea suddenly detected the scent of vampires, and backed away, completely alarmed.

  “Do not be afraid, Alea. I bring you good news.” Alea studied him with a precautionary glare.

  “Nothing good comes from those who smell of death, o-minor mage.”

  Siegfried made a tsk, tsk, tsk sound as he slowly paced around the room.

  “Ye of little faith, have I not assisted you in the past?” he hissed.

  Alea gave him a sullen look and agreed that he had. Siegfried then looked at her and said, “Your husband yet lives, and I can help you to secure his release, but you must also help me.”

  Shocked, her jaw dropped, and she stammered, “Morgus lives? B-b-but, what must I do?”

  “Listen to me carefully. If you follow my instructions, Morgus shall be returned to you unharmed,” said the devious minor-mage.

  The party was soon coming to an end, but Max was enjoying his discussions with Donus and Krynos, explaining the various technicalities of hook drive mechanics. Having become tired and bored, Jennie bid them good night, and Max stood, asking if he could escort her to her room, to which she declined – not because she didn’t want him to, but because she felt he was having an excellent time, doing his male-bonding thing with the guys.

  The four men continued their animated discussion as Jennie left. She rounded a corner and was going through a corridor when Alea suddenly approached her, seemingly out of nowhere.

  “Jennie, I know we have not really had the chance to visit, but could I speak with you for a moment?”

  Jennie graciously declined. She just wanted to go to bed, feeling a bit tipsy from the ample quantities of mead she had consumed.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, but I’m really super tired and want to sleep.”

  Not even saying anything else, Jennie passed by Alea and continued down the hall toward her room, failing to notice a black-robed figure lurking in the darkness.

  Back in the main hall the party soon finished, and all went to retire for the night. Max thanked Donus and Krynos for the most incredible celebration ever, before making his way back to his quarters. As he neared his room, he noticed something was incredibly wrong. Running to Jennie’s quarters, he kicked her door open, only to find her room to be empty, which he knew to be true before even entering, as he couldn’t detect her scent anywhere.

  Panicking, but wanting to make sure he was correct, he started 3D slipping around the castle, sniffing the air for any indication of her proximity. When absolutely sure she was nowhere to be found, he ran to the main hall and sounded the alarm by rotating the handle of a claxon horn.

  Immediately, dozens of men filled the hall, with Krynos and Draagh showing up in their sleeping gowns, the old mage already having a look of extreme concern on his face.

  Max stood in the middle of everyone and nervously shouted, “Jennie’s been taken.”

  Chapter 20 – Bagatelle Betrayed

  Rear Admiral Luigi Bagatelle stood before a large, black wall, approximately eight meters high, with six men and two women seated at desks up above, and all wearing dark-blue robes. The room was designed for inquiries, and Bagatelle was there to answer some questions, as well as ask a few of his own.

  Councilman Len Johnson leered down at the admiral, a sneer lining his lips, with his pale complexion making his face the most visible of the eight permanent members of the Security Council.

  “So, Rear Admiral, you willingly admit that you failed to apprehend the traitor, Commander Maximilianus Gunnarsson, and not only that, you failed to find his ship? How d
o we not know that Gunnarsson, at this moment, is not developing SSCC technology for Earth humans?”

  “Respected Council,” started Bagatelle, “first of all, there are virtually no more Earth humans. As you have all seen the vids I provided, Earth was wiped out by an alien race called the Vrol, and—”

  Bagatelle was immediately interrupted by the ghoulishly white councilman.

  “Yes, yes, we all saw your falsified vids. Quite poor quality, if you ask me. Answer my question, Rear Admiral. How are we to be assured that Gunnarsson will not return with a fleet of invading earthlings?”

  Bagatelle knew this procedure. It was a form of entrapment, and was a typical ploy of politicians during hearings in Earth’s past. Deny evidence, and then demand an explanation, not having to take the supplied evidence into account. Then, if an alternate, yet reasonable explanation is provided, deny, change the subject, and again attack. Johnson was a student of history, and was many steps ahead; he had been planning this for quite some time.

  Bagatelle continued, “Honored Council, we found it necessary to divert resources to finding Lt. Ryder Johnson, who murdered—”

  “Preposterous! Absolutely without merit!” Councilman Johnson screamed, his pale face nearly turning red with fabricated rage. “You would use missing my son as a scapegoat to cover for your incompetency? How dare you! He has been faithfully serving Azul forces for years, and yet, in an attempt to get out of accepting responsibility for your total failure as the commanding officer on the most important mission this planet’s military has ever undertaken, you drag his, and MY name in the mud? Rear Admiral, I will see you up on charges before you leave these chambers!”

  Bagatelle sighed, knowing his only chance would be to get the rest of the Council to believe that the vids from Earth were real.

  “Honored Council, please hear me out completely, as this is critical to the survival of our worlds. The approaching aliens who call themselves Artusians are actually the Vrol, the same species that decimated Earth and killed nearly everything with a virulent, genetically-engineered amoeba—”

  “STOP!” roared Johnson. “This is beyond the pale, and this so-called amoeba of which you speak was engineered right here, in your scientific research facilities.”

  Bagatelle looked up at the leering Johnson and said, “That is completely untrue! How can you even say that?”

  “Bring him in!” demanded Johnson, and as Bagatelle turned around he saw a meek-looking man in a science division tech uniform brought in, surrounded by numerous security personnel. Wearing shackles, he stood, his head hung low and not looking up. Johnson peered over the edge of the tall and imposing structure upon which they sat, and spoke to the tech while maintaining a hateful glare.

  “Tell us, Tech Olson. Tell the council how you created that fake amoeba, and how you manufactured the videos of the supposed invasion of earth.”

  “It is all true, as the honorable councilman said,” stated Olson. Bagatelle looked at the man, shocked, as Johnson interjected.

  “Tell the council who gave you the orders to manufacture this traitorous garbage!”

  “Rear Admiral Luigi Bagatelle, honorable councilman.”

  Bagatelle stood frozen in place, mouth agape, unable to speak. He had never seen this man before in his life, and all of the evidence he had brought back from Earth was being twisted and used against him by Johnson, who was much more sinister and dangerous than he had ever before believed.

  Johnson looked over at his fellow council members, who had remained, for the most part, silent during the hearing. Then, speaking to them, he said, “My friends - not only has Rear Admiral Bagatelle lied and falsified evidence to support his claims, my son - my own dear boy has been listed as missing in action thanks to this disgrace to a uniform. So, I’ll tell you what I believe - I think that Admiral Bagatelle was working with Gunnarsson, and had invented this whole preposterous scheme in order to create a military armada on Earth, with the intention of returning here and making Azul into a military dictatorship, with Bagatelle himself installed as emperor! So I propose - with the evidence pointing against Rear Admiral Bagatelle - I propose that we immediately assume control over Azul Military Scientific Research and remove the SSCC technology from The Revolution. I have already identified a group of experts who can quickly do this. Further, I demand that Rear Admiral Bagatelle be stripped of rank and immediately placed in detention before he can do further damage or contact any traitorous underlings.”

  Johnson leaned back and looked out into the black chamber halls, gloating and waiting for the final act to play out. The other council members met in murmured whispers, conferring with each other. Finally, one member, a female, stood and addressed the chambers.

  “Rear Admiral Bagatelle – while the evidence submitted against you is overwhelming, we have procedure, and no matter the crisis, we must stick to procedure, for that is the law, and the law is final.” Then, looking at Johnson, she continued, “Councilman Johnson, we appreciate your efforts looking into this apparent failure of a mission, but the council cannot act alone and simply take command of this planet’s entire military. It is for these reasons that Rear Admiral Luigi Bagatelle shall be taken into custody and placed under house arrest, with a technology lock over his quarters, precluding him from communicating with anyone aside from his representative council, until such a time as we are able to investigate further into this tragedy. However, he shall retain his rank, and The Revolution shall remain equipped as is. Further, the council shall not take over military operations. There are three branches to our government, and we are only on of the three. This separation of powers is specifically provided for in the Constitution, to which we must always be faithful, lest we fall to tyranny. This is the will of the court.”

  Johnson bolted upright in his seat and screamed, “What! WHAT? You dare allow the evil fruits of this ingrate’s labor to continue on, putting every man, woman and child on this planet in jeopardy? You are blind! Don’t you see? Sometimes we must take control – this time we must take control, as Bagatelle has gone too far! My son is most probably dead, killed by the hand of this pathetic excuse for a man, all in order to further his agenda of taking over an entire planet! Fools! All of you!”

  Johnson stormed out of the chambers as the other members of the council stood up. Bagatelle looked concernedly over at Tech Olson, but surprisingly displaying no malice.

  “Son, why? You know that everything you said is untrue.”

  Olson kept looking down, avoiding eye contact with his superior officer and said, “I’m sorry Sir. I’m truly sorry.” He was then led away in his shackles, while security agents bound Bagatelle with the same type of chains.

  Chapter 21 – Jennie Betrayed

  Darkness slowly turned to a dull light, as nothingness gradually became existence. Jennie Escalante groggily opened her eyes, seeing with difficulty, as her hair was hanging in her face, matted with clotted blood and obscuring her vision. She had obviously been beaten in the head and could feel the pain in her ribcage, and saw her bruised legs, due to her already revealing tango dress having been shredded. As she became aware of her surroundings she felt panic, but at the same time gained her reason and tried to remain calm.

  Trying to move, she found she was chained to a wall. The putrid-smelling dungeon cell gave off a feeling of dark sickness, worse than the most disgusting dysentery one could imagine. The rotting scent of vampire was everywhere, and sharpening her hearing, she heard the wails and moans of prisoners - all normals - who had been taken to the castle to be perversely used as living food sources.

  Trying to clear the blood-encrusted hair out of her eyes, she heard footsteps approaching. She scrambled back, only to be stopped by the wall behind her as she pulled at her iron arm cuffs. Realizing that it would take more than a few minutes to get free of her bonds, if she could at all, she sat back and waited for her visitor, whom she could smell quite clearly – Ryder Johnson.

  “Oh my, my, my, how are we, Jennie?”
sneered Johnson, his face having become even more disgusting looking since she had last seen him. “I must say, that was quite a nice dress. I never took you for one who was into indigenous performances, but then again, all degos are trash.”

  “Go screw yourself, Johnson,” she said, “and take a look in the mirror when you do. It’ll be sure to shrivel your di—”

  “SHUT UP!” he screamed, interrupting her. “I am in control here, and you are simply my bitch. I may not be able to drink you, but I can make you suffer. Oh, by the way, it was nice seeing those again,” he said, pointing at her partially exposed chest. “It seems like God did something right. They have a nice feel to them.”

  “You sick puke,” she growled, but became momentarily alarmed, as she concentrated on her enhanced lycan physiology. To her relief she could not detect that she had been violated – yet.

  “What do you want with me? Can’t win a battle on your own, so you have to go and kidnap a drunken girl from a party? And speaking of that, who took me? The last thing I remember was talking to… oh damn,” she trailed off, remembering talking to Alea.

  “Hmmm, hey bitch, figured it out yet?” snorted Johnson, turning to the side and motioning to someone. “Come, my dear. Show Jennie who helped to bring her home.”

  Alea walked out from the shadows, wearing a face of slight remorse. She couldn’t look Jennie in the eyes, but still said, “They have my husband, Morgus. He still lives, and they said if I—”

  “HAHAHAHA!!!!” Johnson interrupted with maniacal laughter, “you actually believed that bunch of bullshit?”

  Alea almost fell back, and would have if there were not two lower-caste soldiers behind to apprehend her.

  “No! Siegfried said that my husband would be released if I helped bring the girl! This cannot be true!”