Star Angel: Rising (Star Angel Book 4)

by David G. McDaniel

  “Yes, Lord.”

  “Our most important focus right now should be on the structuring of command for the Earth itself. This transitional phase is where we are most liable to have issues. We know who are to be our temporary figureheads,” he looked at Cee, as displeased with her choice of the Bok as he was with her inclusion of Kang. As for her own strategies, she’d already begun plotting how best to deal with Lorenzo and his Bok to get what she wanted—all the while managing the focus that would most certainly be on them. “We must see them through the next steps,” Voltan said. “And ensure they are set properly to liaise with our intended plan.”

  A moment of silence fell over the room.

  “I know you disagree with my choice of the Bok,” Cee filled it, “but my reasoning behind them is sound. They possess information.” There would be no way to conceal the fact she was spending time with the Bok, pumping them for their archives and evaluating that trove of data, and so best to lay solid cover here, now, before it became a problem later. Keep her actions entirely open, under the pretense of searching their records for information on other worlds the Kel could invade, any relics from the last Kel empire, anything that pointed to past colonies, planets that could be rediscovered, absorbed and so on. In plain sight she would mine the Bok for anything that could lead to a renewal of that Empire, all the while keeping records on past heresies.

  “I will uncover what they know,” she told them. She looked around the room, at her military chiefs, at Kang, settling on Voltan.

  “Continue as you are,” she said. “Leave the rest to me.”

  **

  There had been heroics. Great heroics. No doubt there were hundreds, thousands of tales of valor from the battles. But in the end Earth had lost the day. Utterly. A similar, relatively modern battle came to mind, one in which General Peterson had been directly involved, and he now had an idea what it felt like to be on the other side during the Gulf War. He thought he knew before; now he really understood. Militarily massacred by the overpowered Americans, just as the Earth forces had been massacred by the Kel.

  “You sure you’re not leaving anything out?” he tried to focus on the man before him. Mind on all that had happened so far. Though there had been pockets of stellar efforts against the aliens, in the end the humans responded, overall, like a bunch of panicked children, each with his own idea of what to do. A fully coordinated resistance would not have yielded better results, but the pain of their defeat was made worse in the aftermath of that bitter spectacle. Now it was a matter of getting what could be coordinated coordinated and finding a way through.

  “Sir, everything is best guess right now.”

  Peterson eased his stance. They were all overwrought.

  “Put that together in an overlay,” he said. “Let’s take a look at everything, all nodes, all cells, all at once on the big screen.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  As his aide went off to make that happen Peterson ran a tired hand through his short, thick hair. He dropped his arm with a sigh.

  This was not the way he imagined his life ending.

  He stood motionless by the wide table, not sure which direction to head next. Found himself staring down one of the long, shiny-tiled connecting halls of the underground catacomb.

  This was the end, wasn't it? There was no way they were going to come back from this. This was the NFL versus Pee Wee. This was 73 to 3 in the 4th quarter. A rally just wasn’t in the cards. Even in the movies the underdog never came back from a deficit that huge.

  But they always kept playing.

  And so were the people of Earth.

  Peterson and his small group were working round the clock. Groups all over the globe, like the ones on which he’d just requested info, kept playing. In fact he was about to take all that information and organize it into a fresh chart, one he could look at in scale, showing everyone everywhere to which they had a connection, however remote. Following the last of the Kel attacks every world government had been shattered, to the point that there were no more “governments”. Not to speak of. So far it seemed the Kel had preserved, or simply chosen to ignore, the local and regional authorities, police, fire and so forth, such that, as far as he and his group could tell—from their isolated view—the people of Earth were being allowed to keep to their routines, more or less, and had enough functioning infrastructure to do so. Unexpectedly, perhaps, full-on hysteria had not gripped the globe in the wake of all this. Probably for that exact reason: Most everything they were used to in their day-to-day lives was, more or less, the way it always had been. If Peterson stepped back from things and took a 10,000 foot view he grudgingly had to hand it to the Kel for rendering the Earth completely impotent while, simultaneously, keeping the majority of it intact. Almost like putting it into a coma, preserved and alive but not fighting back. Few had taken to the streets in panic. Most were simply numb.

  It was a master stroke.

  That permissive approach did not extend across the entire spectrum, of course. As part of the Kel strategy most of the world’s top leaders had been rounded up, the President of the US no different. With a fresh wave of sadness Peterson recalled his friend and how he stood tall when the aliens came. There were numerous places he could’ve run, numerous contingencies already in place, designed to conceal or protect, but the President realized that would end up being a lost cause. The Kel would dig deeper and find him and bring him in anyway. So rather than risk that, rather than expose their channels to greater scrutiny and chance being caught cowering in a safe house somewhere, he simply turned himself in. Proud, chin up, chest out. Defiant in that simple act. He was by far one of the Kel’s greatest targets of opportunity and would likely have provoked a bigger manhunt than most. And so he did the bigger thing. In a way, though defeated utterly, it gave the President a certain strength of presence he would not have had otherwise.

  Perhaps it would strengthen the resolve of those that remained.

  Luckily the Kel were only going so far. Probably due to limited resources, maybe due to tactics, but they weren’t rounding up everyone in charge. The President knew there were plenty of smart people—like Peterson and his group and so many others—that would avoid their attention. At least on this first round. Presidents and Kings and Parliaments and Congresses and Dictators—these were the high value targets for the Kel. And not for the great hole they would leave in leadership—in truth and in most cases the world was probably better off without them—but their detainment sent a loud message:

  These are your chosen leaders. We’ve crushed your resistance, and we’ve taken them from you.

  Reinforcing the real message:

  We control you now.

  Peterson scoffed.

  Yeah, he thought. We may be down 73 to 3.

  But we’re still playing.

  **

  Jess pulled hard at one of the larger boulders, hoping to dislodge others with it. She’d been digging for what felt like hours. After a few hard tugs it started to move … then got stuck again. She stood back to catch her breath.

  The gate led nowhere spectacular. Quite the contrary. It led to a tiny chamber, thick with dirty air. Stepping through felt like an Icon transfer, which meant the gate probably operated on similar principles and could, therefore, have connected anywhere. Another world, another place on that same world … anywhere. She knew it went far, but far was relative. She could be in a whole other galaxy or right back where she started, near Galfar’s hut or … God knew where. Only after stepping through did she allow herself the thought of what might lay beyond; a sheer drop, the void of space, the crushing depths of an ocean … and as she stood there on the other side, adjusting to the small chamber, a shudder of What Might Have Been wracked her. Leading directly, of course, to a flare-up of other things, more frightening things, hammering replays of recently confirmed truths, cascading mind expanders, echoes from the chamber she’d just left, the moments with Arclyss and the impossible statue and the abrupt, soul-spinning
confirmation of who she’d been, of how long she’d been, of the importance of the Codex Amkradus and the sheer significance of that, crushing her with its weight where before it meant little, or was, at best, a curiosity; an idle concept, now realized as a thing of brutal importance, driving her to startling desperation; a need to find that which she’d hidden so long ago … the thing which she hid—not find a thing another was insisting must be found but find a thing that she, herself, once hid, once saw—once knew—the importance of and hid until some future time …

  Which time was now, as someone else. And the forgotten must be found. And the idea of that led her in a full circle of insanity, each thing feeding the other, one to the next and back to the same staggering impossibility: she hid the Codes, a thousand years ago, now here she was a thousand years later and …

  She had to find them.

  For a time she simply stood in place, concentrating on staying erect, refusing to collapse, refusing to step back through, allowing those feeling to pass over and through her, waves of terror flowing into power and back again, calm to freaked to calm to … until everything settled to a dull roar—she could barely separate the buzz in her head from the crackle of the gate—and she was at last able to focus her attention on the mundane things before her. A stone chamber, a place she had to find her way out of.

  The air was breathable. Gravity and everything else felt normal. It wasn’t outer space or some completely alien world.

  After composing herself she’d stepped tentatively into the small space. She was reasonably certain the gate on this end was a second gate, not the same gate existing in two different places. Leaving the portal active, using the blue glow of its energetic field to see by, she searched until she confirmed there was nothing else there. No doorways, no other gates or ways out. Certainly no one waiting.

  No Codex.

  And so she started digging.

  By now she’d caught her breath. She turned her attention to the brilliantly-lit ring. There were no settings. It went one way through and one way back.

  Again the waves rose and crashed over her and she was seized by the reality of the continuum; of who she’d been and how long she’d been and how normal she felt in spite of all that.

  Nothing, really, had changed.

  With a deliberate shudder she pulled herself to the moment, held herself steady and took another look around.

  After passing through and with a little more inspection she’d determined one side of the chamber on this end was collapsed. At the collapsed side she began pulling away rocks, at first using her hands then, thinking force blasts might work, pulling and shoving with telekinetic fields. It wasn’t nearly as precise as her hands but she found increasing satisfaction as she developed that technique and was able to break apart bits of the wall, working her way forward inch by inch and, in some cases, foot by foot. Each time a larger set of chunks buckled away she cringed in anticipation of a full-on collapse, ready to leap back through the gate if need be, but so far the rest of the chamber’s integrity had proven sound. So far the ceiling hadn’t come down on her.

  She took a few more deep breaths and got back to work. At some point she’d returned to using her hands, wanting more finesse. The area of rubble was finally starting to develop a defined outline, and in the crackling, shimmering blue light of the portal she could see it more or less had the shape of an arch. Convincing her it was definitely once an entryway that had collapsed. Whether or not it led to tunnels, another chamber, certain death or actual freedom remained to be seen.

  Once more she got her fingers on the larger boulder, as tight as she could, and heaved. A loud grunt, one more supreme effort, the most she’d yet exerted and … it came free. She stumbled back—taking a few extra steps when more than she expected came cascading down. For a scary instant it looked as if the cave-in she feared was about to happen and she tensed to leap through the gate but … held and, as the last of the rocks fell free, dirt billowing into the air until she began to cough, she saw, through her squinting vision ...

  Sunlight. Streaming in.

  Yes!

  Beams of daylight splayed through the thick dust.

  Was it the same world? Another? One good view of the sky was all it would take. If the giant blue Saturn was there she had her answer. She sized up the opening. The hole was big enough to crawl through. If there were any creatures or attackers out there they certainly heard the noise, though they’d probably also heard the digging before that.

  She drew her sword and waited.

  Under the harsher light of the sun she could see the chamber on this end was, in addition to being much smaller, not nearly as finely crafted as the other. This was the receiving point. Were the fabled Amkradus really here? Could this just be a dead end? The fact that she’d probably used this very gate a thousand years ago, once again, staggered her.

  Then: Could she remember more?

  Details escaped her. After a thousand years that shouldn’t have been surprising. She could barely recall the name of her third-grade teacher, why should she remember what she was doing a thousand years before that? But she was at least starting to feel confident this was the right place. It was vaguely familiar.

  Better close this off, she went back to the gate. She found the “key” slot, inserted the sword and … shut it down. The energy portal imploded and was off; that quick, the metal ring completely inert.

  Hopefully it would fire back up. She thought to test it but elected not to.

  It will, she told herself, sheathed the sword and went back to the hole.

  Time to see what was waiting.

  Carefully she climbed from the opening, slipping on a few rocks, the squeeze a little tighter than expected, until she found herself standing outside among a bunch of scrub bushes and a few tall trees. The sky was blue, the clouds were white, the sun was warm. It was perfect weather. Had she truly gone to another world? It felt subtly different than the last but maybe she was just all the way around on the other side …

  With a hand she shielded her eyes and scanned the sky.

  No giant blue Saturn. Not an edge, not a trace.

  That meant she was for sure somewhere else. There was no way she could be anywhere on that world and not see at least part of the vast mother planet. It was always in the sky.

  How many Earth-like worlds are there? It was absolutely unbelievable she herself had been to two. Anitra and the place she just left. Now here she was on yet another.

  Could this be Anitra?

  Away from the confines of the small chamber she began noticing more and more that this world felt different. It was subtle, very subtle, but further confirmed she’d gone elsewhere. She tried to recall the sensations of Anitra, breathing in what she could swear were familiar scents. The sounds of a few birds came to her, also like those she knew.

  It was later in the day here.

  Where do I start?

  If the Codex were truly hidden somewhere on an entire world …

  Why did everything have to be so daunting? She felt her shoulders slump and deliberately pulled them back.

  Then noticed something on the horizon. Something she’d missed in her first, squinting scan of the sky. A single star, all alone in the clear blue. Too bright for a star, actually, more like a faraway planet, and as she thought on this she realized it looked remarkably like …

  Venus?

  How …

  Steadying herself she turned carefully in place once more, slower this time, that creeping sense of familiarity growing stronger, the trees and scrub in her peripheral looking more and more like things she knew. Turning, looking, squinting much more carefully, looking for anything she’d missed, all the way around …

  No. There, in the other hemisphere, behind her over the hills just visible at the edge.

  The moon.

  Pale, pale white in the fading daylight, just above the horizon.

  Her moon.

  Or one that looked incredibly like it.


  Could it …

  She ran along the edge of the hillside, filled suddenly with a rush of possibility, not bothering to pay attention to where she was or where she was going or how to get back. Running, looking for sign of anything, anything to confirm or deny. Anything to tell her for sure this wasn’t …

  Earth.

  But it was. There were neighborhoods. In the distance, clear as the sun shining down on them.

  Earth neighborhoods.

  She steadied herself against a tree.

  I’m on Earth!

  The thrill of it surged through her and she nearly yelled.

  Only …

  She began to grow afraid. What if it was just another Earth-like world? Some kind of mirror planet, with houses and suburbia and condo associations and ...

  She took an unsteady step closer, toward the edge of the hill and away from all obstructions, where she could see clearly, her entire field of vision, side to side and ground to sky, nothing in the way. Across a shallow valley, across the woods and beyond, scrutinizing the tiny, tiny houses, so far away.

  Not only were there neighborhoods, not only was this definitely Earth—it’s Earth!—she even saw a few distant store signs she recognized.

  It was America.

  Not only did the signs confirm it … all of it looked so …

  Familiar.

  Too familiar.

  Wait.

  Now her heart really raced.

  No way.

  Could it be?

  It couldn’t.

  No.

  She strained, harder than she ever had, looking for …

  She felt her mouth drying in the cool air.

  There it was. Far away but visible, exactly where it should be. In the field behind one of the indistinct houses in the distance.

  A tiny red dot.

  A barn.

  Her barn.

  She was home.

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