Star Angel: Rising (Star Angel Book 4)

by David G. McDaniel

  “Ruler?”

  The gall.

  “He is making claims that the world is his. He has invited media groups to his location. He had them film and broadcast his announcement, then slaughtered them on camera.”

  Cee hissed in frustration. “Why are we still leaving these channels open?” There were other, more pressing questions, but that one demanded attention. “Why?”

  Voltan acted surprised. “It remains part of our overall design, my queen. The goal is to subjugate this world with as little resistance as possible.”

  “Communication aids their resistance.”

  “Not as much as the alternative.”

  “Ridiculous. I want these channels shut.”

  Voltan held his tongue. Cee could tell he struggled to maintain his patience. At times she got the feeling he thought her ignorant.

  “My queen, things are at a precarious balance. Shutting all channels may well begin the revolt. We’ve taken away their ability to fight. We cannot completely overturn their way of life. These communications channels are the very fabric of their existence. It is part of the psychology we’ve struggled to understand. The people of Earth are hypnotized. But just barely. They are used to staring at screens, always a screen, of all sizes, listening to feeds of babble, snippets of incomplete information, highlights and all else. For our purposes this steady availability keeps them more pacified than it inspires them to act. It is the lesser of the two evils at this point. Yes, it does allow them to connect, to know things they might not otherwise, but we are monitoring. With communications open they have what they’re used to. It’s a form of security. They may grumble or gasp over news such as Kang’s, but they are unlikely to do more. Remove that connection and it will surely breed revolt. The vacuum of information will be filled.”

  At times she wanted to yell at him.

  For now she chose to move on.

  “What do you mean Kang has taken up residence?”

  “He is in a clear, fixed location. As before we have an opportunity. We can annihilate the entire city in one shot, him with it.”

  Cee was not sure if Kang could be destroyed. Annihilation of the city—especially by a singular, massive attack … that certainly seemed tempting.

  “Ordinarily I would not suggest such an extreme solution,” Voltan noted. “Not in view of what we’re trying to accomplish. But in this case the entire world has witnessed his extreme danger. Perhaps we would be forgiven such widespread annihilation.”

  Cee studied him. What if it didn’t work? Then they would’ve made a direct, clear and obvious attempt on Kang’s life and he would never forgive them. So far the Kel were Kang’s allies. A tenuous alliance to be sure, but at least from Kang’s side of things he should have no reason to suspect them. The Kel did not try to kill him. The other humans did. However, if they were to take an obvious shot like that, and if he lived …

  “What if it doesn’t work?” she asked.

  Voltan clearly did not share her concern. “It seems unlikely a high-yield blast with him at its center would not end his existence. We can ratchet up the power as high as you like. Crater half the peninsula if need be.”

  Cee didn’t like it. When they got rid of Kang, if they got rid of him, it would need be permanent. Jettisoned into space or abandoned on a moon or something. She had no confidence in anything else.

  “But if it doesn’t work our problem is magnified,” she said. “He claims to have been born in nuclear fire. Whether that is true or not we have no way to know. Perhaps the absolute power of the blast means nothing, only the energy per area. At his size maybe he can absorb anything we could throw at him, no matter the total yield. As yet we have no final conclusion as to his absolute power.” She made a mental note to redirect the focus of at least a few of her scientists to this; to have them study anything and everything they knew of Kang more intensively than ever before, that they might find a weakness if he had it. “We know only what we’ve seen,” she said, “and what we’ve seen is that he may well be indestructible as he claims.”

  “What then shall we do, my queen?”

  There was only one choice.

  She must bring him in.

  Regain control, remaster him. If nothing else doing so might allow her to get him into a position where he could be disposed of.

  The prospect was one she did not relish.

  “We must control him,” she said.

  Voltan raise an eyebrow. “How? I would contend he has grown less tractable, not more. And, may I remind you, he was not very pleasant before.”

  Cee leaned back in her throne.

  Made a decision.

  “I will go to him.”

  Voltan paused. A deliberate pause, not one of any real consideration—as if he’d expected her to suggest such a thing—then said: “As you wish.” Did she detect a hint of eagerness? Kang had been compromised, was known to be mentally unstable—more so now than before, if his recent actions were any indication—and whomever went to parley would be in danger. Grave danger. If he was to be brought back into the fold Cee was the most obvious choice, for many reasons, but for the sake of their Empire it made the least sense to send their queen. Not into harms way. Kang resented Voltan, it was true, hated him even, after the events of the invasion, so sending the Praetor was not the best solution either. Nevertheless Cee found it curious he did not at least offer to go in her place.

  “If that is decided, then,” he said, “I have other matters of business to discuss. I must again question your choice of these “Bok” to lead the humans.”

  Of course Cee’s decision had been met with great resistance by Voltan. Even others. She was done discussing it.

  “It will be done, Praetor.”

  Voltan pressed. “Our carefully planned strategy has many critical pieces. In order to play to its fullest effect we must install existing leaders into positions of power. Leaders the people of Earth already follow. It is crucial that we do this. These Bok have spent their existence hiding from the people of Earth, plotting against them. They will not be accepted. At least in these initial phases we need viable go-betweens to sit between us and the humans—”

  “I am well informed of your reasoning,” she said. “The decision is made and will be done.”

  “My queen—”

  “Do not question me further in this, Voltan.” She’d given ground on the question of allowing the humans their communications. She would not give ground on this.

  Not when so much of her own design depended on it.

  Still he persisted. “I feel I must.”

  “Enough!”

  Onscreen Voltan bowed and was silent.

  “Make the ceremony brief,” Cee said. “Name Lorenzo global head, place the others in their respective positions and make it known. Tell the world certain systems will remain as-is, for now, and that the transition to leadership will occur.” She wanted the Bok installed in their coveted positions as soon as possible.

  Nerves flared again, worried how she would funnel their blasphemous promises for her eyes alone.

  “Yes, my queen.”

  “Meanwhile I will go to Kang,” she said. “Execute the ceremony while I do this. Make it official.

  “I want the Earth’s new leaders in position right away.”

  CHAPTER 33: PLANS WITHIN PLANS

  That day aboard the sailing ship Galfar had been filling Jessica’s already over-full mind with more philosophy. Things she found increasingly difficult to swallow, but which tied together all the crazy things he’d strung together so far. One bit of wisdom or nugget of information leading to the next, some repeats of what he’d said already, always coherent, never the ramblings of an old man—which made her listen that much closer, reluctant to turn a deaf ear on the otherwise sensational—until not long ago he at last fell quiet, pensive, and she found the right moment to excuse herself for a little space. She departed his company, popped in one of the cinnamon sticks and came topside for some fresh air. She st
ood now at what was becoming her favorite spot at the bow of the mighty sailing ship, all the way at the very front, alone, hair blowing in a stiff headwind, leaning against the railing as she looked toward a fiery horizon. As she leaned over it as far as she could she imagined the “I’m flying” scene from Titanic. A different set of emotions than the exhilaration of that movie moment, perhaps, but the sensation was there.

  She took long, cleansing breaths.

  The sun had just set, widening to a deep, crimson disk before slipping beneath the edge of the world, casting its glow from below and setting ablaze bands of thin clouds that striped the sky. High overhead those same clouds cleared, none at all in the vast hemisphere behind—where stars already twinkled. Pinpoints of light in the blue/black and, as she tracked her gaze across the dome of the night, centered aft of the mighty ship … the giant disk of the mother planet. Just … stunning, its icy rings sparkling red like lasers in the light of the departed sun. Yet another absolutely spectacular evening on this amazing world.

  She turned back to the horizon, continuing to inhale deeply, almost hungrily, of the salt air.

  All of it, all of that majesty served only to remind her she should be blown away. By everything she’d learned so far. The psionics, the speaking telepathically, the moving things with her mind … that these things even existed was incredible enough. That she could do those things ...

  That should still be freaking her the F out.

  But she was taking everything in stride and, at times like this, it bothered her a little that she was.

  She gnawed at the cinnamon stick. Shifted it to the other side and sucked the sweet, sharp juice. Far below the massive wood beams of the mighty keel creaked and moaned, surging against the waves. Giant sails along each side snapped and gave rippling pops with the colossal force of the wind; mighty sheets of canvas straining at full capacity, shoving the behemoth ahead through the water and across the sea.

  Of all the things she’d done as a busy-body child sailing was not one of them. Never learned anything about it, really, never read much about it. But she’d always been fascinated by it. The idea of moving something so large, cargo and passengers and all else, with absolutely no power other than that provided by nature …

  It was romantic. Once you built the ship everything you needed was there and waiting. You had only to unfurl your sails and … you were off. The entire world was yours, had you the courage to discover it. Up there at the bow of such a powerful example of what could be accomplished with that simple technology she felt the bravery of all the sailors of ages past, on Earth and … everywhere. Following navigated routes like this must be challenge enough. Sailing off to points unknown …

  That would take one very brave soul indeed.

  “Mind if I stand here?”

  She whirled from the vista, mind crashing to the present. It was Haz, walking toward her across the deck.

  She pulled herself together. “No,” she turned deliberately back to the fading sunset. He joined her at the railing, close enough that she felt a little awkward, but she chose not to shimmy to the side, not wanting to offend him or somehow make him huffy.

  “Was it a good sunset?” Until then Haz really hadn’t spoken to her much. Especially not aloud. He had a nice voice. For his age it was full and rich. She imagined when he was older it would be quite impressive. Even … sexy.

  She glanced at him, a fleeting glance, then put her eyes back out to sea. “It was.” Absently she touched the flower necklace, which was still holding up. She took her hand from it and put it back on the railing.

  “I was down in the galley,” he said, “playing for a couple of girls.” He made sure she knew it was girls and not just anybody. “I wanted to come up and watch but they wouldn’t let me leave.” It was clear he wanted her to ask him more about it. She didn’t.

  “It always looks best over the water,” she said instead.

  Haz inhaled. “Yeah.” Then: “I’ve been here before.”

  “You’ve been to the castle?”

  “Not the castle,” he amended quickly. “The sea. We used to come to the city sometimes. I’ve seen plenty of sunsets over water.”

  She nodded.

  A long silence passed, the whoosh and flap of the sea filling it.

  “I should’ve brought my guitar,” he said. “I could play for you.” He seemed to realize something. “If those girls hadn’t distracted me I could’ve played for you while the sun set.”

  “That would’ve been nice,” she said, wondering immediately if he’d get the wrong idea. So far she’d been very careful where Haz was concerned. Not only was he easily offended, and sometimes a brat, he was clearly out to gain her interest. Worse, he was not the type to take hints.

  Suddenly he was eager, as if he’d made a breakthrough. “Want me to get it?” His usual bored, annoyed façade was gone. Suddenly, unexpectedly, she was faced with an eager Haz.

  She had no idea what to do.

  “I’ll go get it.” And he was turning to be off.

  She had to stop him. “No, Haz. Wait.”

  He held.

  “I don’t know how much longer I’m going to stay up here,” she said by way of explanation. His eagerness dropped at once. “It’s been a long day.” Then, to further avert the dark clouds she saw coming: “Let’s just enjoy the peace right now.”

  Without comment he turned slowly back to the rail. Further away this time. She debated coming closer but thought she was probably already on thin ice. Best not to encourage or discourage him. Just stand there and be quiet.

  This little drama was not what she wanted to be dealing with right then. There were enough real problems to worry about.

  Shortly she felt a little yawn and encouraged it. As she let it go it took on a life of its own, ballooning to a big, wide-mouthed, squint-eyed doozy.

  Haz kind of grumbled: “Maybe I’ll just play for us before we go to sleep.”

  He really wanted to play her a song. It was a sweet sentiment but she didn’t want to keep heading down that path. Best to nip it in the bud, she finally decided. Without thinking she said: “You know I’m spoken for, right?”

  To that he snorted. “You mean the man you were waiting for?”

  Immediately she wished she hadn’t opened her mouth. After everything she’d been through she apparently hadn’t entirely left behind her teenage lack of foresight. This would’ve been a good time to keep being quiet. Maybe throw in another yawn.

  Too late for that.

  “Doesn’t matter anyway,” Haz said under his breath. “You’ll never see him again.” Then he looked at her, spiteful Haz back in full force: “You know that, right?”

  His words stung. What a little …

  How could he be so nasty?

  She tried not to react.

  “I can see the future, remember?” He dug deeper, so smug she wanted to slap him. “You won’t see him again. You’re stuck here and he’s not coming. You should do yourself a favor and accept that. Do us all a favor. He’s gone and so are you.”

  She almost picked him up and threw him over the railing. Almost used her new powers and locked him up, lifted and tossed him out to sea. The thought was so strong for a moment she got scared it might actually happen, beyond her control.

  Consciously she pulled her rage back. Haz just stood there, being a butthead.

  She seethed. Debating what to do, what to say, worried about how the rest of the night—the rest of the trip—would play out with this rift between them, freshly inflamed, and as she turned it over again and again in her head she realized she was too angry to stay there and do anything about it. She didn’t want to do anything about it. And so she simply turned and walked away.

  Rather than go below and to put herself to bed she instead steered herself past the ladders and headed for the bonfire getting started at the aft end of the ship. Passengers were gathering for the nightly ritual, ready to have some fun.

  She went past them, all the way
to the back, up to the highest point on the rear deck and into the furthest, darkest corner. There she turned sharply and shoved her back into it, facing forward along the great length of the vessel, standing in the stiff breeze beneath the stars. She could see Haz still standing far away, up at the bow where she left him, looking out to sea. He hadn’t moved.

  Filled with anger, filled with loss, with sadness, with every negative emotion she’d been keeping at bay she raged silently across the distance at him. Before she could consider even for a second against it she had the flower necklace in hand, ripped from her neck, and was tossing it to the wind. It caught and fluttered away, far out over the water, drifting into the darkness and out of sight, down to the waves below.

  Everything she’d been feeling so calm about was shaken. Her lip trembled and, all at once, she wanted to cry. Just get it out of her system; purge the emotions she’d been suppressing, all of them. Now was perfect, up there in the dark where she was alone and no one would know, least of all Haz.

  But the tears wouldn’t come.

  **

  Zac had a plan. Not much of one. No specifics he’d yet shared with Willet, as the plan had no real form, but he knew what he intended. The Bok had to be hiding more info. They must know more than those worthless examples he’d killed in the castle. There were more Bok in the world, perhaps they even had more Icons, and one way or another he would find them. All of them. Every last Bok and he would find everything they knew; root out every shred of that pompous organization until he found where Jess had gone. And he would find Satori. She was with the Kel and the Kel were on Earth and so, for both girls, he and Willet would go to Earth and spare no effort to find them. Zac was burning up with potential. Here, on Anitra, armies were being prepped to go, but their time was not yet and their purpose would have nothing to do with rescues. Nani no longer needed him and he’d been idle too long. He would go, now, with Willet, and together they would find the ones they’d lost.

  There would be no more waiting.

  “How are we going to find her?” Willet echoed Zac’s desperate determination. At first Willet had been rejuvenated by the prospect of going back, Zac at his side, and the thought of what they could accomplish. As the moment got closer, however, and he considered more and more of the impossible specifics that would be required to make that happen, Zac noticed he’d lost that edge. Now Willet was just going through the motions, preparing for the unknown.