EARTH'S LAST WAR: 2289 A.D. (The Ashlyn Chronicles Book 3)

by R. Brown

  “Formidable,” said Novacek.

  “Here is the second image.”

  The first image from the Akashic library changed to that of a human woman. Her throat was punctured and dripping blood, her body hovering in mid-air.

  “I don’t understand,” said Tomlinson. “How is she floating, and where is the Drac?”

  “That’s a good question, Tomlinson. And that’s precisely why I wanted all of you to see this. Do you see how the rock wall behind her is warbled and distorted?” asked Steven.

  The eyes of the men narrowed as they leaned forward trying to get a better look.

  “What is that?” asked Stratton. “Is that the Drac?”

  “Show them, Keeper,” said Steven. “Enhance the image, first utilizing infrared light.”

  The visual instantly changed. It glowed green with hotspots of yellow and red.

  “The reptilians are invisible?” remarked Moore. “Are you frackin kidding?”

  “It is not invisibility in the truest sense of the word, but they do have a chameleon-like ability to blend in to their surroundings,” said the Keeper.

  “Little difference as far as I’m concerned. I still can’t see them,” responded Moore.

  Ignoring Moore’s remark Steven continued. “Keeper, now refine the image. Eliminate the radiant heat surrounding the reptilian and extrapolate the remaining imaging patterns, enhancing it across the humanly seeable range of light.”

  The holo changed into a highly-detailed picture, and like the Draconian from the other image, this one too was nine feet tall with glistening green and blue scales, similar to that of an Egyptian scarab beetle. A light red tint framed the lids around the eyes. Its tail was long and narrowed to a blue, blunt tip.

  The Drac was holding a woman about the waist in one arm, the other hand gripped tightly on a knife that was buried in her chest. The lizard’s canine fangs sunk deep into her neck.

  “Interesting. Culturally, biting a victim’s neck was considered a superstitious act,” said Novacek.

  “How so?” asked Steven.

  “It was a fairly common belief. Many of Earth’s cultures believed that drinking the blood of one’s enemy represented the capturing of the victim’s soul. They thought they’d gain that person’s strength.”

  “Then they’re primitive?” asked Moore.

  “Not primitive,” answered Novacek. “Their technology is greater than what we ever achieved on Earth. So, they have to know that there’s no scientific evidence to back up such a superstition. They’ve intentionally chosen this course of action, turning it into a belief. It could almost be expected of a warrior’s mindset, providing them with a driving sense of courage that aids them in battle.”

  Steven, who had been quietly watching and analyzing the debate, rose from his seat and circled the image, studying it from all sides. “It’s a possibility, but I don’t believe a warrior would pause in the middle of battle unless he had to.”

  “If not that, then what else is there?” asked Solon.

  “They’re anemic. Evolution just gave them a different type of iron processing mechanism than we received. They really do need the victim’s blood for strength. But it also makes them a slave to their own needs. As their population grows, they’re forced to find more and more sources of sustenance. It’s no wonder they became warlike—they’re forced to conquer or die.

  “It also clarifies something that Ashlyn learned in the Akashic library. Siri told her that the Draconians offered Earth a choice, surrender themselves to slavery, or face extinction. Given the conditions of what that slavery entailed, it’s easy to understand why humanity made the choice to fight.”

  “Better to die honorably in battle than to live as a coward,” said Tomlinson “My mother spoke those words when she told me of my father’s death.”

  “He was a great man, Tomlinson. If not for his foresight in building Sea Base, we wouldn’t have survived Enlil’s attack. Your mother was right, he died honorably—staring the enemy in the face.”

  Tomlinson nodded.

  “So, if you’re right, and the Drac is feeding—” Brooks’ face twisted awkwardly, “then maybe we just found the true origin to the whole vampire thing. Gives a whole new meaning to the name Dracula.”

  “Crap,” exclaimed Moore. “We’re fighting vampires?”

  “No, we’re not,” corrected Steven, quickly squelching any hint of a rumor getting started. “We don’t need a wooden stake. They’ll die like any other creature.

  “Keeper, do you have any information to add, or knowledge of why they drink blood?”

  “I think your assumption is correct. Many of Earth’s reptilian species were known to have iron deficiencies. It was not uncommon for the anemia to become acute in adult males who were wanting to mate. That would account for the aggressive behavior of their species.”

  “And there you have it. We now know the species of lizard we’re up against. The bastards are horny toads,” said Brooks with a small chuckle.

  “Those horny toads have blood-sucking fangs, knives and a massive fleet of spaceships,” reminded Moore.

  Steven, who had again taken his seat, then thought to ask, “Keeper, I have a question for you. If Tryskellyon was devastated by an air bombardment in the first minutes, where was this image of the woman taken? And how did the Draconian find her?”

  The Keeper turned and looked at Steven. His troubled face displaying more anxiety than Steven had ever seen him express.

  “Keeper, answer my question.” Steven’s stern voice left no room for objection.

  The room had grown quiet, all eyes focused on the Keeper.

  “The Draconian you see—was your son, Enlil.”

  Murmurs and gasps echoed.

  Steven rose to his feet. “What the hell are you talking about,” demanded Steven. “Do not keep anything back from me, Keeper. This is the last warning I’ll give.”

  The Keeper nodded. “This image was taken three years after he defeated the Draconians. At this point in time, I had rebuilt Tryskellyon and Charon. This image was recorded in the tunnel that led to the Charon portal. Enlil was leaving for Earth, hoping to escape the reach of the darkness. It was a choice of desperation. But on this day, for a few brief moments he lost focus, allowing them to take possession of him. Using his ability to shift form, they made him assume a form in their likeness. It was they who committed this atrocity, not Enlil.

  “And it was an act for which he never forgave himself, for it destroyed his ability to ever come home.”

  “Why?” asked Steven.

  “The woman in the image was Helena, one of Atrahasis’ daughters, sister to Ninmah. He knew that Ninmah, his betrothed, could never forgive him.”

  “The woman in the image was my daughter?” said Atrahasis. “That explains the familiarity. She looks a lot like my wife.” After a brief pause. “It is odd, for though I know that this event was from a prior timeline that no longer exists—it still saddens me to think that my daughter died a violent death.” The big man’s voice cracked.

  “That’s a very natural, very human response, Atrahasis. I too am haunted by the loss of our friends and family from the other time line,” said Steven in support. “How can we not be?”

  “If it helps, Helena’s death is the only known Anunnaki death on Heaven by his hand.”

  “I feel like I’m in one of those old horror movies you like so much,” said Brooks to Steven. “Possessions, ghostly apparitions, pseudo-vampires—even the nexus is like purgatory. All in all, I think putting Ashlyn in stasis was a wise decision.”

  “It was,” Steven agreed. “And now we need to address the war, and how to prep for it. As I said earlier, the discovery of the vessel and the base below are new events, and we have no idea what repercussions it will have.”

  “Isn’t it possible that we averted the war?”

  Steven smiled. “I’ve asked myself that same question, Solon. The thing is, it worries me if we have. For one, we’ll never ha
ve a better advantage than we do now, though admittedly, that advantage may now be compromised.”

  Novacek leaned forward, his thought cutting straight to the point. “It may be, but we don’t want a nipping dog at our heels, systematically going after our outlying worlds, while they prepare to someday defeat us.”

  “And therein, lies the unknown quotient. We don’t know if or when they are coming. But, like you say, we don’t want a dog nipping at our heels,” said Steven.

  “Then we must make sure that the war is not averted. It must be decisive and complete. None of the Draconians must be allowed to escape,” said the Keeper.

  Steven was surprised by the Keeper’s candidness. “Yes. And how is that best done?”

  “By bringing the war to them.”

  “To defeat the enemy, you must become the enemy,” said Moore, staring at the floor.

  All eyes were upon the young man.

  “The analogy is correct, though the intent behind it comes from a different perspective.

  “The dynamics for what I must do, will vary little. I will begin preparations immediately. There is nothing you will need to do.”

  “Nothing?” asked Steven.

  “You must begin your training, Lord Steven. The others must focus upon the vision you have for the Anunnaki people. Build the world you want to have.”

  “Speaking of world building. Keeper, do you have a way to easily distribute the gifts to our people?” asked Steven. “It’s important that they receive them.”

  “Yes. In three days’ time, when Tryskellyon is completed, the water that flows through the city will carry the gifts. Everyone will receive them. The old will be made young. The afflicted will be healed and made whole. They will need help in learning how to safely shift form.”

  “Thank you, Keeper,” commended Steven. “And should the Draconians ever come to drink of the water, will it also bestow the gift of immortality upon them?”

  “It will not. It is genetically coded to only work with human genetics, be it pure or impure.”

  “Lord Steven, you speak of immortality?” said Gorok. “Are you truly saying that this gift will make it so that we cannot die?”

  Steven smiled. “We can die, Gorok. Accidents or war can kill us. Just not natural causes or sickness. Our bodies will not grow old.”

  Gorok bowed. “I am honored to be part of this Council and receive such a gift from the gods.” His eyes were happy, tearful—his thoughts going to his wife and daughters.

  “You are welcome Gorok, but we are not gods. As Ashlyn is so fond of reminding me—we are all family. If anything, we are just people who have been blessed with good fortune.

  “And with the Keeper’s help, we’ll build a civilization to be proud of. But we must be careful to never forget who we are.

  “Ultimately, that was the Anunnaki’s undoing. They lost respect for the gifts. They bickered over territories, and took slaves. I do not want history to repeat itself. It is my greatest fear for the future of our people.

  “All of us must be prepared to stand up against anyone who tries to break the principles this Council sets forth. Our support for one another must never waver. It will be the only way to maintain order.”

  All of them in agreement, the Council spent the next hours setting a hundred plans in motion, assigning roles of leadership to each of them. They chose a course of action, preparing for the battle ahead.

  As the meeting concluded and they began to depart, Steven asked Gorok to stay behind. “I have a favor to ask, Gorok. I need someone I can trust—but I want you to consider everything carefully before you give me an answer. It could be dangerous to you and your family.”

  Chapter 7

  Six Months Later

  Blindfolded, Steven turned slowly, his body bathed in a mottling of sunlight and shadows being cast by overhanging tree branches. His heightened senses noted the contrasting touch of the sun’s heat and the coolness of shadows against his skin. The wind rustled the leaves overhead, and carried the subtle scent of moist, musty earth to his nostrils. It was almost enough to mask the pungent smell of damp fur.

  Unarmed, he cocked his head, listening to the sound of the padded paws of his enemy bending the blades of grass. The large, six-hundred-pound cat was circling him, stealthily stalking him.

  Steven’s mind took in everything around him, tapping into new and developing abilities. Standing in the middle of the clearing, his glistening bare chest dripping sweat from the hours of heavy exertion under the strong gaze of the late afternoon sun—he waited.

  Every movement, every sound registered in his consciousness as a spectrum of light, energy and vibrational air movement. The drops of his own falling sweat thundered upon the ground like the hooves of a galloping horse—the grass crunching underfoot emitting waves of soft humming vibrations.

  Pushing deeper, expanding his mind—he saw the breath of the jungle cat as radiating heat waves upon the air. His mind envisioned the large cat’s bristled black strands of hair moving to the wind and the flexing of its muscles. The blood running through its veins roared like white-water rapids.

  Preparing to jump, adrenaline surging into the cat’s muscles, his haunches tightened. Steven raised his open hand. With vivid clarity, he could see the animal’s bared claws and wide fangs as it leapt through the air at him.

  The jungle cat was no more than a few inches away when Steven closed his hand and disappeared—blinking away to reappear on the other side of the clearing.

  The cat raised his head, growling in frustration. With burning intensity, the cat’s head lowered toward the ground. He paced, plotting his next attack.

  Steven lifted the blindfold. “This is too easy, Keeper. I told you to make it har—”

  The trunks of the large sequoia trees surrounding the clearing begin to explode, snapping like twigs at the base. The trees, weighing millions of pounds came crashing down toward him, each on a mission to crush him. Steven cocked his head, almost as if in warning. Like a stilled photograph, the trees came to a stop, hovering motionless in mid-air above him.

  “Steven, what the hell are you doing?” said Ashlyn. “You’re going to kill yourself.”

  Steven spun. “You’re awake!” His excitement at seeing her after so many months was uncontainable.

  Seeing Steven’s distraction at Ashlyn’s appearance, the large cat pounced, toppling him over. The cat’s claws dug deep, slicing his gut open. With the pain, he lost focus. His Magori powers that held the trees at bay, faltered—and with a thunderous noise the trees crashed down atop him.

  “I win,” said the Keeper. The cat and the trees covering Steven disappeared, leaving him lying on his back in the knee-high brush, out of breath and alone.

  “That wasn’t fair, Keeper,” said Steven as he gingerly rose to his feet and dusted himself off—the cuts on his body healing. For the briefest moment, he had been so happy, thinking that Ashlyn had been awakened.

  “War never is, even under the best circumstances. And our enemy is far from conventional. Should the darkness return, we must be prepared for any possibility.”

  “Ugh. I know, Keeper—and thank you for reminding me. Okay, let’s do this again. We need to step it up. Knowing the cat and the trees aren’t death threatening, isn’t pushing me as hard as I need to be pushed.” Steven stood tall, his voice commanding. “I need a real test. I want to test my limits against real danger.”

  Steven couldn’t admit to the Keeper that he was using the distraction to stop him from thinking of Ashlyn. When the pangs of loneliness cut too deep, it was time to go train.

  At his request, the other members of the council had taken most of the burdens from him, allowing him to train and spend time with his children. They knew that if he was needed, he was never far away.

  “We are done for today,” responded the Keeper. “You have other needs to attend to.”

  Steven knew the meaning behind the Keeper’s words. The day had come for Ashlyn to leave. Driven by anxiety,
Steven grit his teeth and turned his frustration upon a three-hundred-ton boulder at the edge of the clearing. With a flick of his palm he sent it hurtling into a mountainside at the far end of the valley. Though it was more than a mile away, he felt a soft tremor from the impact beneath his feet.

  “You must not lose control over your Magori powers,” said the Keeper. “They can be very dangerous when unleashed.”

  “That was controlled, Keeper. If you knew what I really wanted to do—” Retrieving his shirt that he’d slung over the branch of a nearby tree, he slipped it over his head and pulled it down.

  “If you’re ready, I will take you to her. Her stasis chamber has been moved aboard the new ship,” said the Keeper.

  “Not this time, Keeper. I need the practice.” Steven closed his eyes and focused upon Ashlyn. A second later, he appeared next to her stasis chamber. Gorok and Tara were already there waiting for him. The mood permeating the room was one of sadness, and neither Gorok nor Tara wanted to interrupt this moment for Steven.

  Steven put his hand atop Ashlyn’s chamber. “Keeper, can you bring the light up. I’d like to see her.” As the light rose within the chamber, her image brought a smile to his face. He moved closer, his hip pressing against the cold steel plating. “Keeper, how will you know when the war is over? How will you know when to return?”

  “I am sorry, but those are details I cannot divulge. Be assured, we will know, and we will not be gone a minute longer than necessary.”

  Tara moved to Steven’s side. “We will take good care of her. Our daughters are looking forward to seeing the baby. They look forward to teaching him how to fly as a naga.”

  “Thank you, Tara. Thank you.” Steven gave her a hug.

  He turned to Gorok. “And you, my friend.” Steven took the forearm of the big man. “I don’t know when you will return, but until you do—raise my son, like your own.”

  Gorok nodded. “I am honored to do so.”

  Giving them both a warm grin, Steven took a step back in preparation to leave. “Keeper—is there anything you need from me before you launch?”