The Adventures of Connor Jakes: Masks (The War for Terra Book 1)

by James Prosser

  “But they will kill you…”

  “I hope they try,” the man replied, standing up. “I tell you what, why don’t I call ‘em for you? That way you don’t have to feel bad for bein’ a tattler.”

  The woman watched as the man waved to the overseers. He shouted obscene words over the sound of construction to gain their attention. After nearly a minute, she began to grin at the colorful words he made up to incite the guards. She held back a laugh as he began to dance foot to foot, making noises like an animal. She stopped laughing the first time one of the overseers loosed a shot from their weapon. The man barked a laugh as the electric shock passed above his head to smash against the inner cave wall above. As he moved, still waving his hands and shouting, the woman noticed a cord attached to the man’s waist. It snaked down from his jumpsuit and fell away in the emptiness below. A knotted braid of cable was fastened beneath his right foot. It too fell away into the superstructure of the ship.

  “Stop,” the woman said. “You’ll call them over. They’ll kill you.”

  “That’s kinda what I’m tryin’ for, honey. These things ain’t that bright, are they?”

  The woman stifled another small laugh as the man cupped his hands together. He let out a loud hiss towards the reptiloid guards, leaving off with a sharp raspberry sound. The noise drew the attention of several of the slaves on nearby catwalks. They stopped their labor and stared at the man dancing on the ship. A few, away from nearby guards, began to shout cheers to the man, encouraging him to get on with his suicide. Instead of jumping, the man stepped off the girder and further onto the cross brace. The narrow strip of metal was barely wide enough for his feet and he seemed to steady himself as he tip-toed along its length. He paused at the end of the brace, looking around at an unfinished weld below. Reaching out, he grasped a wrench used to secure bolts before welding. He threw the tool in the direction of the guards.

  The move seemed to finally break the resolve of the overseers. Two of the creatures ducked under the catwalk railing, hissing and holding their weapons out to fire. The man grinned as the two reptiloids scrambled to find purchase on the unfinished girders. They stepped out onto the superstructure, looking for a way up to the insane human.

  Stepping backwards along the narrow beam, the man continued to hiss and shout as the creatures grew more agitated, raising their weapons to fire but always holding back as they lost their balance. The reptiloids leapt up from the girders, closer to the shouting man and further from the safety of the catwalk. The man laughed and shouted to the slaves around to watch. Fearing the man’s impudence would spread, one of the reptiloids fired a shot, missing the man by only a meter. The man laughed and shouted back.

  “Y’all really stink at this,” he shouted. “Why don’t ya go back to the test tube you were created from?”

  Some of the slaves began to laugh at the overseers, pointing to the man and shouting to him. He sensed the movement from the guards and managed to dodge another bolt from the lightning gun. The woman, now shimmying away from the man towards a nearby catwalk, began to think the man was trying to get shot. It would be a glorious end to his spectacle, but ultimately pointless. She realized she cared about what the man would do. He was insane, but seemed to be moving with more purpose than his own death. As she reached the catwalk, she hopped to the railing and secured herself over the rail. As she turned, she saw a bolt sizzle into the man.

  She expected to see his body fall to the ground below. She had seen the guards less angry turn their weapons to full and blast smoking holes in other slaves, but this time something different happened. Instead of falling, the man leaped upwards from the brace. As the energy bolt slammed into him, he was lifted up further and flung back. She saw the cable he had wrapped around his waist flare with blue-white energy for just a moment and realized what he had done. The cable was acting as a ground wire, siphoning off the energy and dispersing it through the metal girders of the ship. The man landed on his back along the narrow girder where she had been crawling. He puffed out a breath but was still breathing. He sat up, looking around to the slaves as they began to cheer for him. He levered himself up, careful not to lose his balance on the narrow metal beam. The guards hissed and leapt upwards again, landing only twenty meters from him down the framework slope.

  Overseers, summoned by the guards on the girders, stormed onto nearby catwalks and the man realized he needed to end the standoff quickly. As the reptiloids approached, he bent low, bracing for whatever charge the creatures tried. The first guard raised its weapon and fired. The man leapt again, this time forward, bridging the gap between the girder and cross brace. When the bolt struck the man near his feet, energy was transferred from his body into the cable. A second later, the reptiloid who had fired began to twitch and hiss, the energy from the weapon travelling along the girder and into his unshod foot. The creature let out a single screeching hiss before tumbling over the girder and into the open space below. The man laughed at the remaining guard.

  The reptiloid moved closer, enraged at the death of its comrade. The man changed tactics, charging the creature. The reptiloid let out a howl as the air was forced from its lungs and it was thrown back. Both man and creature toppled over, slamming into the girders. The human began punching the reptiloid in the head and face. The overseer tried to push the man off, but he clung to the creature like a madman. Slaves were now openly defying the guards surrounding the fight and cheering for the man. He swung a blow to the head of the creature, opening a gash in the overseer’s head. The man suddenly pushed off the reptiloid, standing and backing away on the girder. The creature shook its head and climbed to its feet.

  “Come on, you ugly bastard,” the man said.

  In response, the overseer leapt at the man, snarling in a blood-rage which left its sense of reason behind. The overseer slammed into the man, knocking him backward from his place on the steel beam and they fell, still grappling in the air, the reptiloid hissing and snapping its jaws as the man pounded it with more blows. At the mid-point between the top of the space frame and the floor, the man snapped to a sudden stop. For a moment, the reptiloid seemed not to grasp what had happened as he fell away from the man. A second later, he howled as he fell away to his death. The man let out a cry of delight as the creature slammed into the floor of the shipyard below.

  The man hung there, swaying in the empty space as the guards began to close in on the cheering human crowds. After a moment’s rest, he began to climb up the cable tied around his waist to the girders above. As he reached the top, a swarm of overseers grabbed him and began to beat him severely. They dragged him from the framework to the catwalks, where they continued to inflict bloody wounds. Again, the sound of the man’s laughter seemed to fill the vast cavern as he was taken away. A barked order from one of the command level reptiloids moved the man towards the nearest medical bay. He was dragged nearly the whole way by angry guards.

  The crowds were dispersed, with many feeling the electric sting of the overseers’ weapons. As the day wore on and the shift settled back to normal, whispers were exchanged between workers about the insane man who defied the overseers. After a few retellings, the man had killed eight of the slave masters instead of two. As the story grew, there seemed to be only one person who was not surprised. She added to the stories, telling more about the man who could not be killed. One of the slaves worked up the nerve to speak to the girl when a guard was not looking. He asked the girl what the man’s number was. She shook her head and told him he had no number. When she told him the name he repeated it to others. Soon, the whole facility was talking about the man.

  His name was Connor Jakes.

  6

  “The endless variety of life in the galaxy has always amazed me. The capacity of that life to destroy itself and the others around it has also been pretty neat.”

  Lee Pearce

  Candid interview – Alliance Entertainment Channel

  In meteorological terms, the low pressure system which swept
down from the northern latitudes of Aleinhelm was not labeled a hurricane. Officially, it was a Coriolis vortex unique to high gravity worlds with faster revolution speeds than Earth. The Coriolis vortex could contain winds of up to two hundred kilometers an hour and cut a destructive swath thousands of kilometers across the plains of the planet. What made the tidal vortex different from a hurricane was the embedded cyclonic activity which surrounded the storm’s comparatively small eye. Tornadoes would spin away from the storm, tearing away homes and land in every direction. Officially, it was the reason no homes were built along the great northern plains of Aleinhelm.

  Unofficially, the land, which included some of the most beautiful and fertile land on the entire planet, was owned by Veles Corporation. Veles paid massive sums to the figurehead government to keep any settlers from building on the land. From the surface, it seemed the perfect place, with rolling hills, stunning mountains and pristine lakes. Over the last century, several groups had tried to build farms along the wide rivers. Each colony would begin to make advances towards self-sustainment and then be swept away by a tidal vortex, never to be seen or heard from again.

  The tidal vortex was considered to be fairly small, but to Bonnie Estevez it felt like a monster. Unwilling to risk detection by using the ship’s atmospheric shields, Bonnie was flying the storm unprotected. Through the stick and rudder system on the yacht, she felt the atmosphere churning around her and heard the thump of trees and rocks picked up and tossed against the ship by the tornadoes. She swore as the passive sensors blinked out again, obscuring her vision and making the flight even more deadly. She swore as the storm pushed the ship sideways through the rain.

  “How close are we?” Bonnie yelled as the ship tumbled down almost a half-kilometer. If I have to keep this up much longer…”

  “Global positioning says we’re almost on top of it,” Mendel shouted back, manning the thin navigation panel. “Can you take us down one hundred meters?”

  “One hundred is easy,” Bonnie replied. “Keeping it from falling three hundred more is nearly impossible.”

  “Three hundred and we’re krill food,” replied the big man, holding tight to the console. “We just need to go down and hover in place. Do you think you can do that?”

  “If you think you can do better, be my guest,” Bonnie said, swearing as another updraft brought the nose of the ship up.

  “Look,” Mendel explained. “I’ve fired a lot of things at a lot of people, but I have never fired a person at a thing before. If you can’t keep this thing steady—”

  “I’ll keep her steady, you just hit the damn button,” Bonnie replied.

  Bonnie dropped the ship down nearly the full hundred meters, struggling to ride the bucking of the winds around them. Her sensors flared to life just as a microburst pushed the ship down further, dipping the craft’s stern into the churning lake below. She let out another stream of invectives as she pulled the nose back up and gained altitude. Mendel armed the firing lever and transferred control to the armory below. He smiled as he left the bridge.

  “Keep her steady,” the big man said, stepping out of the wide bridge and into a short corridor.

  From the short corridor, Eli took the lift down to the forward landing ramp where Tuxor and Parker Trega were preparing a harness. Mendel stumbled out of the lift as a gust of wind spun the ship again. He swore at the ceiling for a moment as Parker and Tuxor gripped the rails on the inside of the ramp. Eli stepped to a panel beside the ramp and pressed a hand to the display. A precise image of the area they were hovering over appeared on the screen. Eli read the coordinates carefully, double checking his measurements with a smaller set of data in the coordinates.

  “Alright,” he shouted over the groans of the ship. “We’re here, if Bonnie can keep things steady. Are you ready?”

  “I believe so,” Tuxor said in his deep baritone. “Mister Trega has given all the information I should need.”

  “Look, pal,” Parker said, turning the much larger man around to face him. “I’ve never tried this before. Since I ain’t the one with a finger on the trigger, I can’t promise you won’t go boom hallway down, okay?”

  “If it’s all the same to you,” Tuxor said, sliding his upper arms through the harness. “I would prefer not to go boom.”

  “Tuxor, are you sure you can stay down there long enough?” Eli asked, helping the bigger man fasten the straps holding the harness in place. “Your people live in shallower water than this, and the weather ain’t all that good.”

  “Did I ever tell you about the time I swam to the open ocean on my world?” Tuxor said, his face gaining the wide expression and darker green they associated with a smile. “I did not swim to the continental shelf, of course. I did look, though.”

  “Yeah, well, try not to stay down too long,” Parker said, fastening the last strap. “You wanna get as far away from this as possible, as soon as you can.”

  “You’ve got the coordinates for the rendezvous, right? We aren’t going to have the time to go looking for you when this all goes down.”

  “I have the coordinates and the compass you have provided, thank you. If you don’t mind, I need to lower the ramp and go before the ship is damaged further,” Tuxor said, pressing the two humans further back into the ship. “Please be sure to close the ramp behind me.”

  Parker and Mendel stepped further back into the ship, holding the metal rail along the corridor edge for support. Tuxor stepped back to the panel and pressed his lower hand to the flat surface. The ship’s forward ramp let out a hiss as the system released a magnetic seal and began to lower. Immediately, the corridor was filled with lashing rain and buffeting winds. The humans held tight as they were nearly pulled out into the vortex. Tuxor held the nearby railing and stepped towards the opening ramp. A sudden bounce dropped the end of the ramp into the choppy lake. Tuxor slid down the metal walkway, catching himself just as the ship rose again. He regained his footing and moved to the very edge. He turned to the two men behind him and waved a lower arm. In one swift move, he turned back and leapt away, disappearing instantly. Eli, being the larger of the two men, made his way back to the panel and pressed a hand to the wet surface. The ramp began to close. As the magnetic seal hissed shut, sealing the corridor from the rain again, both men looked to each other. All they could do now was wait.

  As the lift rose through the interior of the Veles building, Bric tried not to be nervous. He straightened his purple robes for the hundredth time and took deep breaths, but nothing calmed his frayed nerves. The importance of what he was about to do weighed on him. Despite the coaching from Melaina and the others, he was still unsure about confronting his father and going through with the plan.

  When he had brushed his father’s consciousness — and he still thought of Albert Holcombe as his father — he had drawn in the memories of his own discovery and how he had come to be in Holcombe’s care. The story his father had always told him was partially true, but twisted by the man’s need to justify his own actions. He had been on a Ch’Tauk transport with his real parents when the ship had fallen out of M-space near Holcombe’s private retreat. Shot down by the asteroid’s defense networks, it crashed near the palatial mansion. Holcombe’s security team, under orders from their master, had swept through the wreckage, executing any survivors lest his hideaway be discovered by the invaders of Earth. When he was found, the guard captain, a father of three himself, took the boy back to Holcombe for instructions. Albert had known what he was almost immediately, and kept the boy for his own use. For disobeying instructions, the guard captain had been killed.

  Holcombe raised the boy as his own son, learning the extent of his mental abilities through testing and experimentation disguised as games. Bric had learned mathematics by drawing the knowledge from one of the computer technicians. The process drained him, and he gained memories as well as knowledge. Mostly, he drew physical abilities from others, learning about humans and their abilities while playing games. His brush with Rene Mal
ik had gained him some surprising new talents, as well as a crush on Bonnie Estevez. These things went through his head as the lift came to a stop and the doors parted.

  Bric stepped into the executive offices. The place seemed to have been fully repaired from the fighting a few weeks before, although he still detected a trace odor of smoke. The smiling secretary stood when he entered. She had been modeled after a pleasure slave Holcombe had owned years before during the Confederacy, another memory Bric wished he hadn’t drawn out.

  “Master Bric,” the android said. “We were not expecting you. Shall I tell the chairman you have returned?”

  “No, thank you,” Bric replied, trying to hold a smile on his face. “I believe I will surprise him.”

  Bric stepped across the wide entry hall to the massive doors. He placed his palm on the entry panel and the doors swung open. As he walked into the spacious office, he noted the new chandelier and ornate inlaid carpet. His father believed he was at the forefront of fashion, but Bric’s recent stay with other humans had taught him his father’s tastes, while opulent, tended towards excessiveness. Rene’s memories would have called it tacky.

  “Just reboot the main systems from here,” Holcombe said, facing out the window towards the distant shipyards. “I’ll grant you connected access from here. Our mainframe hasn’t been corrupted yet and the A.I. storage backups are here…”

  “Father?” Bric said, seeing the wide back of his father’s crimson robes.

  “The prodigal son, eh? I suppose you are here to kill me?”

  “Father, I have come back to you,” Bric said, tentatively stepping closer to his father’s desk. “I … I missed you. The humans did not understand me. They were … scared of me.”

  “Of course they were, my son. You never need fear that from me.” Holcombe’s voice was smooth and controlled as he tapped the holographic console above his desk. Bric could hear the familiar sound of his anger beneath the honey tones, though. “I am your father, after all.”