Jake chuckled. “Tell me about it,” he responded as he turned, reached out, and levitated Adrian’s glass of water that rested on the small table next to the rocking chair to him. “Never in my wildest dreams did I ever see myself capable of doing this.”
Adrian watched in amazement as the glass, halfway full of water and ice, levitated toward Jake. He held his palm under the glass, turning it completely around without spilling the water and ice. Yes, he’d witnessed Jake move things telekinetically before, but each time he did, his stomach would tie up in knots. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Jake and Celeste. He knew that they were truly good at heart and would never use their powers to hurt another person, but there was something majestic about Jake now. Adrian now looked at him as a demigod rather than his little boy. Jake didn’t need Adrian anymore. He didn’t need his father, and that was what pained Adrian the most.
Jake continued to turn the glass, glancing at this father with concern. He levitated the glass back to its previous spot on the table. “It makes you nervous when I do that, doesn’t it?”
Adrian paused, thinking Jake was reading his mind.
“I don’t need to read your mind to know what you’re thinking, Dad. It’s written all over your face.”
“It’s that obvious, huh?”
“Yeah, it is.”
“Yes, I get nervous. I mean, you’re my little boy. You don’t need me anymore.”
Jake placed his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Of course I need you, Dad. I need you more than ever. This change hasn’t been easy for me. It’s been easier for Celeste because she grew up possessing most of these abilities. But for me . . . there are times when I think about the responsibility I have with these powers and it’s overwhelming. You are the only connection I have to my humanity, Dad. I need you.”
Adrian smiled and the two embraced. After a few seconds, Adrian’s satellite phone, sitting next to the glass of water, began to ring. Adrian pulled away, retrieved the phone, and looked at the screen. “It’s Skip,” he said, eagerness in his voice.
Jake’s eyes lit up. “Well, answer it. He may have found the gold plate.”
*****
Onboard the Raqel II . . .
Koroan sat in his commander’s chair within the command bridge of his mighty warship. He was relieved. Macaria had returned to her quarters, which left Koroan in complete command of his own ship, something he relished.
“My Lord?” Colonel Yeatlee asked.
“What is it, Colonel?” Koroan replied without looking at his colonel, gazing at the image of Earth on the giant view-screen before him.
“We have intercepted a message from Steven Hendricks, a former slave on Terrest.”
Koroan sat up straight, perked up from his boredom, and turned his attention to Colonel Yeatlee, causing the colonel to duck his head with his intense gaze. “Play it!” he demanded harshly.
“Yes, my Lord.”
Koroan turned back to the beauty of the planet before him, listening intently as the phone call between Stephen Hendricks and his number one enemy, Adrian Palmer, replayed over the speakers.
“Skip, did you find it?”
“I’m not sure, but we found something, approximately thirty-five stories below the Pyramid of the Sun. We found two solid gold doors, leading to another room. There are writings on the doors in reformed Egyptian. . .”
“Reformed Egyptian?”
“There are no knobs or handles to open the doors. We can’t blast them open because we would be risking a cave-in. But on the right door is an impression.”
“Impression?”
“It’s carved out perfectly for one of the gold plates. The carved symbols inside the impression match perfectly with the symbols written on the gold plates of Terrest and Gnolom.”
Koroan jumped from his seat, standing, fixed on the discussion.
“Do think the Gnolom plate will open the doors?”
“My guess is yes.”
“I’ve got the plate with me. Sage and I will leave immediately. Keep everything secure.”
“Understood.”
The message clicked off and Koroan turned to Colonel Yeatlee with a gleam in his eyes. “Can you isolate Adrian Palmer’s current position from that call?”
“Yes, my Lord,” Colonel Yeatlee replied. He then punched commands into his computer terminal.
Koroan turned back to the view-screen and watched as Earth rotated and then he focused on a string of islands in a vast ocean. The image continued to focus, gathering details of the buildings and surrounding vegetation. The image finally paused on a frozen picture of Adrian talking on the satellite phone. Jake Palmer stood in the background. “There you are,” he whispered with satisfaction. “Transfer the image to real time and go thermal.”
The image scrolled back a bit, with the entire base in the picture. Thermal images of its occupants began to show. Koroan stared at the view-screen in silence for a few moments. “There,” he said abruptly, pointing his finger. “Isolate those two heat signatures.”
The playback focused primarily on the two heat signatures in a small room in one of the buildings. One heat signature in humanoid form sat in what looked like a rocking chair, rocking a much smaller humanoid heat signature. Koroan stepped closer to the screen. It’s Celeste, he thought as a twinge of guilt rippled through him. It was an annoying emotion that was beginning to get to him more and more, but he quickly brushed it aside and touched his finger upon the smaller thermal image. “There you are, my grandson,” he whispered.
Then, he abruptly turned and faced the crewman working on the bridge, looking directly at Colonel Yeatlee. “Secure a channel to Dorange Gar and inform the goddess that we have found what we have come to reclaim.”
*****
Teotihuacan, Mexico . . .
Dorange lay on his stomach, peering through his night-vision binoculars and monitoring the activities of the humans within the temple ruins of Teotihuacan. He couldn’t make out any details, but he counted a total number of twenty-five souls. But because of the darkness, he couldn’t determine who was military and which ones were civilians. They would have to wait until first daylight to make a plan of attack.
He pulled the binoculars from his eyes and glanced at his battle suit, a new invention of the Gnol military, and one that was quite impressive. Earlier in the day, his suit, made up of military fatigues and Omutx battle armor, was camouflaged. Now, under the blackness of night, the suit had transformed to complete black, along with his gloves and boots. His battle helmet had the same capabilities. Virtually, the suit had a chameleon effect that transformed to any environment for which it was worn. As a result, his team consisting of thirty of the best Gnol special forces units were able to move within a half mile of the archeological team and the military unit assigned to protect them at Teotihuacan.
“My Lord?” said a gruff voice from behind.
Dorange pushed himself to his feet and turned around, meeting the bearded face of Major Julian Washantu, his second in command on this mission. Julian was short for a Gnol, about 6’2” but as powerful as any Gnol that Dorange had ever known. So powerful, in fact, that he was one of the few in the Gnol military that had mastered his telekinetic and telepathic abilities, so much so that he didn’t require mind inhibitors to block his thoughts from being read. “What is it, Major?” Dorange replied impatiently.
“We have an encrypted message coming in from Lord Chast,” Julian replied, his dark features indicating that he was not the slightest bit intimidated in Dorange’s presence.
Dorange admired his major’s confidence and courage. Most Gnols cowered when they were in the presence of Dorange, Koroan, and especially Macaria, but not this Gnol. No, he was special, one that Dorange would have to keep a close eye on. “Very well,” Dorange responded. “I will take it in my private tent. I want two soldiers monitoring the humans’ activity throughout the night. At daylight, after we have a better view of their defense, we will make a plan of attack.”
“Very well,” Julian said, standing to attention, crossing his right arm across his chest, and nodding.
As Major Washantu made his way to order two of his men into position, Dorange walked to his private tent. Once inside, he pulled the pentagon-shaped holographic projector from his pack and held it in the palm of his hand. After pushing the button to activate the device, the projector lit up, the reflective glow of light radiating off of his face as the holographic image of Koroan Chast appeared about one foot in height. “My Lord,” he said, nodding his head in respect.
“Enough with the pleasantries,” Koroan stated sternly. “There is no need to pretend without Macaria present.”
“Understood,” Dorange said. At one time in his life, he revered Koroan Chast in fear, but not anymore, something each of them understood completely now. The only reason they had not torn each other apart yet for their disdain for one another was because of Macaria and their objective to acquire the three gold plates.
“We have intercepted a transmission between Adrian Palmer and Stephen Hendricks. The human scum they call Skip said that they found a hidden doorway under the Pyramid of the Sun. Skip believes that the gold plate of Gnolom, which Adrian has in his possession, will open the doors. Adrian will be arriving along with that traitor, Sage Merrok.”
“How soon will they arrive?”
“They have just powered up a jet plane on their base in the Pacific Ocean. Their E.TA. will be sometime in the morning.”
“Understood, my Lord.”
“Inform me when you have secured both plates. Macaria and I will be leaving soon to retrieve the child.”
A victorious smile spread along Dorange’s lips. “Yes, my Lord. And soon our common enemy, Adrian Palmer, will be dead, along with the rest of his family.”
Koroan smiled with pride, understanding that the only thing he and Dorange had in common was the desire to annihilate Adrian Palmer and his family. “Yes, Dorange, finally,” he replied with a sadistic tone. Then, the image disappeared.
CHAPTER 11: A FALLING OUT
Reagan Test Site, Kwajalein Atoll, Marshall Islands . . .
Celeste gently laid Calum down into his crib within their private quarters in the bungalow. Jake was already sound asleep, which was surprising. For a transfigured being who didn’t require much sleep, he sure liked to do a lot of it. She smiled as she walked to his side of the bed. She gently rubbed the back of her hand across his face, leaned down, and kissed his cheek, stirring him awake.
“Wha . . . Did my dad find it?” he asked groggily.
Celeste smiled. “No. Adrian and Sage have only been gone for a couple of hours. You were sound asleep.”
“Oh,” he replied, laying his head back onto the pillow and closing his eyes.
“Hey, I’m going to go out and sit on the beach for a while.”
“Okay,” he mumbled.
Celeste kissed him again and grabbed a blanket. She wrapped it around herself as she walked out into the moonlight. Surprisingly, the tropical air was crisp, and the scent of ocean infused her sense of smell. Even though the moon was full and bright, dark, billowing clouds were beginning to form in the western horizon. Glancing down, Celeste saw the back of a dark figure sitting on the beach. She knew who it was instantly.
Taking a deep breath, she walked toward the figure, knowing that it was time for her to confront her best friend. A person she had known since childhood back on Gnolom; one that, at one time, she could trust implicitly, but not anymore.
As she approached, Nichelle turned, her head covered with the hood of her black cloak. Without a word, she turned back and stared back at the ocean, its waves crashing against the shore.
“Beautiful night,” Celeste said as she sat beside Nichelle.
“It is,” Nichelle replied coldly, still gazing at the horizon.
Celeste sighed at Nichelle’s response. Her curt tone gave Celeste the courage to finally ask the question that had nagged her ever since their escape from Terrest. “I have to ask, Nichelle . . .” she said, pausing.
“What?” Nichelle countered, looking at Celeste with distrust.
Celeste sighed again. “I know that our relationship has been rocky lately—”
“Maybe because you have found a new best friend,” Nichelle grunted, turning her angry glare back to the ocean.
This angered Celeste, causing her to just come out and ask the question. “Were you the one that let the Gnols know of our hidden location in the canyon on Terrest?”
Nichelle’s angry gaze turned slowly back upon Celeste, transforming into a look of anguish, and she flipped the hood off of her head. “I can’t believe you would even ask such a question. After all that we have been through, you believe that I would betray you like that? I have been there for you every step of the way. I even killed my own father to save your life, and you have the audacity to believe that I would do such a thing?”
“Remember, Nichelle,” Celeste answered harshly, “you once told me that you missed our way of life. You even considered going back. Remember?”
“Of course I remember! But you can’t sit there and tell me that you haven’t had your doubts. You know. We don’t fit in. Sure, Adrian and his family have said that we are accepted, but you’ve seen the way they look at us sometimes. They are fearful of us because of our abilities. Now that Jake has the same powers, they look at him the same way. There will always be that divide between the humans and the Gnols, no matter whose side we’re on.”
Nichelle had a point, but it still didn’t answer the question. “Then tell me this, Nichelle, why are the Gnols—”
“Our people, Celeste! We will never escape who we truly are.”
Celeste dodged her last comment. “It still does not explain why they are always one step ahead of us. For a long time now, Adrian has suspected a spy among us. He trusts Sage and me because we allowed him into our minds. He has seen our deepest thoughts and desires, our allegiances, and who we trust. The only one that has not let him in yet is you.”
Narrowing her eyes into a cold glare, Nichelle stood up abruptly. She was about to walk off without a word when Celeste grabbed her wrist. “So tell me why,” Celeste said with impatience.
“Fine,” Nichelle replied, her face flushing with anger as she ripped her arm away and reached her hands up behind her ears. “Do you want to read my mind?”
“It would certainly ease my mind.”
Nichelle pulled her hands down and shook her head bitterly. “I am not about to give you the satisfaction. After all these years and everything that we’ve been through, you still don’t trust me?”
Celeste didn’t know how to respond. There was no question that she wanted to read Nichelle’s thoughts, if anything to ease her own mind about her best friend’s allegiances. But the more Nichelle resisted, the less she trusted her. She pulled herself to her feet, meeting Nichelle’s firm gaze. She said the only thing that came to her mind. “Then if it wasn’t you who alerted to the Gnols to our whereabouts, who was it?”
“Why don’t you ask your new best friend?”
The question took Celeste off guard. Why would I not trust Ariauna completely? Out of all of the humans whom she had gotten to know, Ariauna would be the least likely to betray Adrian Palmer. What was more, Ariauna Tomwon despised the Gnols more than anything. If it was up to her, she would have every Gnol wiped from the face of Terrest. It wasn’t until recently that Celeste managed to break down the wall that Ariauna had built up between the two. It just didn’t make sense. “Are you sure you’re not just saying that out of jealousy?” she asked, referring to the incident between Nichelle and Skip.
Nichelle stared hard into Celeste’s eyes, causing her to take a step back. It looked as if Nichelle was about ready to pounce. After a few more seconds of agonizing silence, she said, “Fine! If that’s what you believe, then I know what I have to do!” Nichelle fumed. Then, flipping the hood of her cloak back over her head, she took off in a run back toward the small base.
Celeste stood and watched in stunned silence as raindrops began to pelt her face. Tears started to well up in her eyes. What have I done? she thought.
*****
Onboard an F-117 Nighthawk en route to Teotihuacan, Mexico . . .
“What’s our E.T.A.?” Adrian asked, keeping his attention focused ahead as he held the controls of the F-117 Nighthawk tightly in his hands. The trip west to Mexico from the Marshall Islands was tumultuous, to say the least. After receiving Skip’s call that he had found the possible location of Earth’s gold plate, Adrian, Sage, and Bantyr left immediately, only to fly directly into a storm system.
“The storm has set us back a bit,” Sage replied, glancing down at his control panel in the co-pilot’s seat to Adrian’s right. “Around another two hours, give or take an hour because of the storm.”
Adrian nodded as he pulled the Nighthawk up, trying to escape the storm. The slick, black jet cut through the dark clouds like a hot knife through butter with the turbulence knocking it about. With the destruction of a majority of the U.S. and other world militaries after the first Gnol attack, there wasn’t much left in the jet fighter arsenal. General Peterson gave Adrian the old rickety stealth fighter so they could fly safely to the Marshall Islands.
Soon, the shuddering began to ease up, and Adrian leveled out the plane above the storm system. He was about to turn and say something to Sage, when he heard John’s voice in his helmet, as did Sage. Bantyr, strapped securely in another seat in the cargo, heard nothing as he slept peacefully.
“Adrian, do you copy? This is John.”
“Copy, John. Anyta has apprised you of the situation?”
“Roger that.”
“Good. We should arrive within two hours, give or take an hour.”
“Understood, Adrian. . . . But be cautious.”
Worlds Without End: The Prophecy (Book 3) Page 21
