Sage bit his lip, hesitating. He knew what he was about to say would bring the wrath of Vlamer upon him, but he didn’t care. He knew that once the pyramid was blown to oblivion Vlamer was going to execute him. “If the goddess of light prophesied that you would be the keeper of the tablets, then why would they be hidden deep inside an ancient temple dedicated to a God named Jehovah?”
The back of Vlamer’s hand caught Sage directly in the right eye. The sting and power of the impact dropped Sage to his knees. Immediately, his eye swelled shut.
“Do not ever say that name in my presence, you pitiful excuse for a Gnol!” Vlamer then turned and looked at the temple. “Soon, Sage, you will see who your true god is.”
* * * * *
Onboard the Raqel . . .
The Raqel’s passage through the wormhole only lasted a few seconds. Still, Koroan was astonished by how little time it took to travel between worlds. The significance of this wormhole, and the others that his scientists theorized about, left him coveting more and more power. He could just imagine the number of worlds he could conquer in the galaxy, simply using these wormholes.
As his ship traveled toward Terrest, his viewscreen within his quarters flickered off. The light from a holographic image began to pierce through the blackness in the room. He stood up from his chair and turned to meet the eyes of his goddess mother. He promptly dropped to one knee and bowed his head in reverence. “My Queen.”
“Arise, Koroan.”
Koroan stood and looked at the most beautiful woman he had ever laid his eyes upon. “What brings me the honor of thy presence?”
A different expression seemed to grace across the goddess’ face. But as soon as it appeared, it was gone. It was the first time Koroan had ever seen her show this type of emotion. It was almost a look of fear. “Did you meet with the dark lord on Earth?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“Our master is aware of everything.”
The goddess smiled, her tension seeming to dissipate. “Very well. Once the process is complete, I will be free from my eternal imprisonment. And with the secret of Gnolom that you discovered when you found me, we will free the dark lord, allowing him to earn his rightful place as the one true god.”
Koroan bowed his head in reverence. His bosom swelled with pride because he knew that his discovery, along with the goddess of light on Gnolom, was what had placed him in a position to rise to godhood.
When he looked back up, the holographic image of his goddess disappeared. “Lights on,” he said. The lights to his quarters flickered on. He then left his office and stepped onto the command bridge. General Lychen, sitting in the command chair, stood and made his way over to his usual post next to the command chair. As Koroan passed him, he ordered, “General, set a course for Chast.”
The general stopped and bowed his head. “Yes, my Lord.”
Koroan didn’t look at the general and made his way over to the command chair. As he sat, he looked through the viewscreen at the planet he now called home; the first planet in what would be innumerable worlds without end that he would conquer.
* * * * *
Temple site near Talead, Terrest . . .
Sage was still on his knees, staring at the temple that was about to be destroyed. He had tried several times to stand, but the guards at each side held him down. He turned his gaze from the ancient structure and watched Vlamer hover about twenty yards ahead to the three Gnols who were arguing amongst themselves.
“What is the problem, Captain?” Vlamer asked, with venom in his voice.
The hot breeze picked up speed, causing Sage to strain to hear. He leaned forward a little, trying to listen. The guards pulled him back.
“I am sorry, your Eminence,” the captain said. “But we just found out that some of the charges are defective.”
“Defective!” Vlamer growled.
Defective? Sage thought. When his team had originally placed the charges to bring down the ancient pyramid, they had all verified with him that every charge was functioning properly. How could it be then that there were now defective charges? Sage turned his head, trying to listen in on more of the conversation. As he moved his head, something caught his eye. He jerked his head back to one of the aging spires at the front entrance of the temple. There standing in front of the spire was a man.
Sage knew he wasn’t a Gnol because he was dressed differently. The man was dressed in a bright white robe, held together with a scarlet sash. The man looked directly at him. Sage quickly turned his head to see if Vlamer or the other Gnols noticed. Vlamer continued to chastise his officers, and the guards by Sage stood motionless as well, seemingly unaware of an intruder near the temple.
Sage looked back toward the man. He was surprised that he could see the man’s sparkling blue eyes from the distance where he was on his knees from the temple. The man smiled at Sage, his long, black hair shimmering in the bright sun.
All of the tension and worry about the ancient temple’s destruction seemed to dissipate from Sage. Instantly, he relaxed and returned the man’s smile.
“Colonel Merrok! … Colonel!”
Sage snapped out of his trance. Vlamer hovered speedily toward him, a look of frustration and anger spread across his face. “Colonel Merrok, you reported that the charges your men placed were all functioning?”
“I … they were, your Eminence,” Sage replied. He then let his eyes waver past Vlamer to look at the man standing by the spire.
Vlamer followed his eyes and turned his hover chair around to see what drew Sage’s attention from him. “What are you looking at, Merrok?”
Sage snapped his attention back to Vlamer, now concerned that Vlamer had spotted the strange man in the robe.
Vlamer turned back to face Sage, lowering his hover chair to eye level. “What are you looking at?”
“You …” Sage couldn’t get the words out. He was in shock that in the bright of day and in clear view that Vlamer Kreuk could not see the man looking in their direction.
“Speak clearly, you sorry excuse for a Gnol!” Vlamer snarled.
“U-um … nothing, your Eminence.”
Without warning, Vlamer viciously backhanded Sage across the face. “You fool.” Vlamer then turned his attention back to his officers, who were busy ordering other soldiers to place new charges.
Sage reached up to wipe away the blood that dripped from his lip as he looked at the man again. The man continued to smile compassionately at him. Holding Sage’s gaze, the man then pointed up to the air above and behind Sage’s head.
Confused, Sage turned to look. Something was flying toward them in the distance, but he could not get a good look. He squinted his eyes to get a clearer view of the object speeding its way toward them. His eyes widened upon recognition. The flying object was approaching them at a significant speed. Flying directly toward the temple site was a rebel Wildcat.
Sage’s first instinct was to yell out a warning to the guards at his side and to Vlamer. But he quickly closed his mouth before he could speak the words. Something told him that he shouldn’t. He then turned his attention back toward the strange man in the white robe. He was gone.
CHAPTER 11
Earth Time: July 14, 2042 – Onboard one of the rebel shuttles returning from Zikf . . .
Skip looked into the green eyes of Ariauna as she tended to his wounds. Despite the incomprehensible horrors she had experienced from both of her experiences as a slave, she was still stunning to look at. A warm shiver pulsated through his body as he continued to stare into her eyes. Her eyes were beautiful but sad. He could see the pain and anguish in them. The grief of losing both her mother and her father still haunted her.
“I need you to take your shirt off,” Ariauna said as she went to retrieve some ointment from the medical kit. “We need to get a look at that arm.”
Skip repositioned himself on the gurney at the back of the shuttle. As he did, he glanced ahead into the forward compartment of the sh
uttle. Hundreds of slaves sat huddled together with barely inches of space between them. Celeste, Sean, and Nichelle moved about, tending to many of the slaves who needed medical treatment. Bantyr and Skyler were on another shuttle that had already landed at the rebel base.
Pulling off his shirt, Skip cringed in pain, letting out a small yelp. The fabric from his shirt had melted into the wound of his arm from the plasma blast he received from Commander Schaal. He tried to pull some of the pieces out, but it was too painful.
“Hold on. Let me help you with that,” said Ariauna, returning with a tray full of medical supplies.
Skip gave her a half-hearted smile and relented to her care. Again, a warm feeling resonated throughout his body from the touch of her hands on his skin. Her hands were soft, regardless of the countless hours they had been in servitude to the Gnols.
“Ouch!”
Ariauna looked up and smiled. “Relax,” she said as she rubbed a white glaze over his wounds. “This will hurt at first, but soon you should start to feel its soothing effects as the ointment cleans and heals your wounds.”
She was right. Within seconds, he began to feel a warm tingling as the ointment began to work. He looked into her eyes again and reached up to grab her hand on the top of his shoulder. At first, she tried to move her hand away, but then she relaxed, caressing his hand.
“I’m sorry, Ariauna. I’m sorry I let you stay under the influence of the Enforcers for so long. I—”
“No … Don’t apologize. There was no way you could have helped me without getting yourself killed.”
“That’s just it … I should have. I should have saved you … warned you somehow. I—”
Ariauna pressed her fingers against his lips and leaned her forehead against his. “You did save me, Skip. We’re here right now. That’s all that matters.”
Skip reached up and, with the back of his hand, caressed her face. Like her hands, the skin was soft and warm. He had always known that he loved Ariauna, from the moment they first met in the mess hall of the first rebel base. She smiled, seeming to sense his thoughts and leaned in, her silken, warm lips meeting his in a passionate kiss.
He returned the kiss, which seemed to last a lifetime. He didn’t want this moment to end. After several more seconds, their lips finally separated.
“I love you, Ariauna.”
Without a word, Ariauna returned his smile, but diverted her eyes, uncomfortable with the intimacy of the moment. She went back to work on his arm. “So, when do we get back to work on finding that prophecy?” she asked.
Prophecy? He had nearly forgotten about the prophecy that he and Ariauna, along with her father, had discovered in the temple just before they were captured. “Boy, you change subjects fast.”
She gave him a lighthearted smile. “I’m not good with all this mushy stuff. It’s obvious you’re no good at it either.”
With a chuckle, Skip grabbed her hands away from her tending to his arm and pulled her to face him. “Well, if you’re that impatient, I say we get back to work very soon.”
A questioning look then graced her face.
“What is it?” Skip questioned.
“I-I don’t know, Skip. I have thought a lot about that temple, the writings on the walls, and what I saw after we were blown through that door. I saw something just before I lost consciousness.”
The memory of their capture came flooding back into Skip’s mind. He had seen it too, just before he was hit on the back of the head. “You’re talking about the statue of the man and the young boy?”
Ariauna nodded. “Yes. And I saw something else … writing under a painting above the statues. I can’t remember it word for word, but I saw the name Jehovah. You were right, your theory about the God of your world visiting Terrest two thousand years ago.”
The pain in Skip’s body slowly disappeared as adrenaline began to flow through his veins from the excitement of their discovery. The statement that Ariauna referred to haunted him as well. “The inscription,” he replied. “It said: And Jehovah said, blessed is he who shall unite two worlds and two peoples.”
“Yes. That was it. What does it mean?”
Skip could hardly contain his excitement. For months now, he had been a slave, but during his time, he had pondered that same question. “Well, it’s obvious that the one that is blessed is the little boy kneeling before Jehovah.”
“Yes . . . but who could the boy be?”
Skip looked down and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. Looking up, he was about to speak again when he saw Celeste rushing toward them with an expression of concern all over her face. In a flash, the answer to the question struck him, reverberating through every fiber of his being.
But before he could declare his sudden inspiration, Celeste spoke with a hint of anxiety in her voice. “Jake has just radioed us. He says that it looks like the Gnols are preparing for some kind of detonation at the temple near Talead.”
“What?” Skip jumped to his feet, pushing his way past Ariauna and Celeste. The two women followed. Stepping over several Terrestrians, Skip made his way to one of the windows of the shuttle and looked out. There on the ground were hundreds of Gnol soldiers; some were pointing up to the sky as the shuttle began its flight over the temple. “Do we have any binoculars?”
By this time, Sean and Nichelle had made their way to the window as well. “Here,” said Sean, handing him a pair of binoculars.
Skip looked through the lenses just as the shuttle began to veer away from the temple sight. “Yeah, it looks like they’re planning something.” He then looked at Celeste. “We need to get down there and stop them. We can’t let them destroy that temple.”
Celeste, with her hand heavily wrapped, shook her head. “I’m sorry, Skip. Jake has already ordered that we change course. We have already been spotted, and they may be sending their own fighters after us.”
Now angry, Skip stepped over a couple of Terrestrian children, sitting on the floor of the fuselage, and stormed his way toward the cockpit. The others followed. Once inside the cockpit, he barked at one of the two pilots. “Get General Palmer on the radio, now!”
The young pilot hesitated. “B-but, sir.”
“No buts!” Skip declared. He then reached forward, grabbed the free headset between the pilot and copilot, and switched on the communication link between the shuttle and Jake’s Wildcat. “Jake! What are you doing? We can’t let those Gnols destroy that temple.”
Jake’s voice crackled back through the comlink. “I’m sorry, Skip. But we’ve been spotted, and I can’t risk losing another shuttle. They’ll obviously be sending fighters after us very soon.”
Skip bit down hard on his lower lip. “Jake, listen to me; you can’t. That temple is too important.”
“I’m sorry. But I can’t risk it.”
Skip cursed. “Jake, please … your father believed that temple held a secret. A secret that would free the Terrestrian people.”
There was a long pause at the other end of the radio. Skip knew that he probably shouldn’t have mentioned Adrian, but he had to get through to Jake somehow.
“My father is gone, Skip. … Whatever he thought was in that temple isn’t there. It’s just an ancient building. Let the—”
“No!” Skip thundered. “You —”
“End of discussion, Colonel! I am your superior officer and you will do as you’re ordered! Is that clear?”
Rage and frustration boiled to the surface, and Skip flung his fist into the metal sidewall of the cockpit. But he felt no pain because of the adrenaline rushing through his veins.
Celeste rushed forward, grabbing Skip by the shoulders, trying to calm him down. “It’s okay, Skip.”
“Is that clear, Colonel?” Jake asked again.
Skip looked up, meeting Celeste’s eyes. He knew he shouldn’t say what was on the tip of his tongue, not until he investigated the prophecy in the temple further. But something deep down inside told him to anyway. It was the same feeling that
enlightened him about who the statue of the small boy was kneeling before Jehovah – a feeling so powerful that he could not hold back. Staring intensely into Celeste’s eyes, he responded, “No, General, it is not clear because within the walls of that temple lies the true prophecy about your son!”
* * * * *
A few minutes later, Celeste sat at the back of the shuttle on the gurney. She was shell-shocked, speechless. Nichelle stood next to her. “Are you okay?”
Celeste looked at her oldest friend, searching for words. Nothing.
“Jake has told the other two shuttles to head back to the rebel base. He and the other two Wildcats will provide cover fire so we can land and stop them,” Skip said as he made his way to the back of the shuttle.
Emotions ran through Celeste like scalding hot water. Anger. Fear. Doubt. She looked up and thrust her hand forward, telekinetically pinning Skip against the wall. Former slaves, sitting nearby, scattered. Small children began to cry. Ariauna leapt forward, grabbing Celeste’s arm. “What are you doing? Let him go!”
Celeste jumped down from the gurney, shoving Ariauna away with her free hand. Ariauna flew through the air, only to be saved by Nichelle’s own telekinetic powers.
Sean tried to intervene as well, but was quickly subdued by Celeste. Celeste, still holding Skip to the wall, jabbed her forearm into his chest, holding him in place. “What did you find down there? What’s so important that you would risk our lives to save? Haven’t you been through enough? We are too wounded and ill-prepared for another fight!”
Nichelle walked forward, gently touching Celeste on the shoulder. “Let him go, Celeste.”
Celeste turned and looked at her dear friend. Tears began to stream from her eyes. “A son? Why would I even want a child? You know as well as I do, Nichelle, that if I have a child, my father would do everything in his power to either kill or control that child.”
Worlds Without End: Aftermath (Book 2) Page 17
