The Hidden Reality (Alex Pella, #2)

by Stephen Martino

  Suddenly, the wind stopped, and once again a familiar gray-hued room appeared. This time Dr. Harding was alone and working diligently on one of the control panels on the desk. She noted the several canisters off to the side and the large number of enormous computers stored in the room.

  She then ran over to the opposite side of the desk where Harding was working and began to type on one of the vacant panels. After displaying a gray-scaled schematic of the underground complex, she attempted to override the security system in order to allow her friends to enter without further deterrence.

  Suddenly, an army of Persian soldiers appeared about two hundred feet away from her position. Though thoroughly concentrating on the control panel, they instantly garnered her attention when a spear flew past her head and landed on the ground next to the ship. Upon impact, it became extremely pixilated and disappeared.

  However, its sharp tip must have caught the edge of Samantha’s cheek in the process. Placing her hand against her face, she could feel a small trickle of blood oozing out from the wound.

  Glancing up to ascertain who threw the spear, at least ten thousand Persian soldiers charging towards the ship were there to greet her. With yellow headdresses that covered their faces, oval-shaped wicker shields, red and white robes, a bow and arrow on their back, a sword at their side, and a spear in their hands, the sight was more than a little daunting.

  Suddenly the sky began to blacken as most of the ten thousand soldiers threw their spears into the air at once, blocking out the sun in the process. Keeping her composure, Samantha continued to diligently work on the site’s security system while the danger approached.

  As the spears hit the electromagnetic shield, they would disappear in the process. An occasional one passed through a few feet but no others made it close to her position. Relieved, Samantha surmised Tom must have modulated the electromagnetic signal around the ship in order for it to protect her better from the oncoming attack.

  One by one the Persian soldiers ran into the force field. Some became pixilated and disappeared instantly while others made it a few feet before totally fading away.

  “Got it!” Samantha said aloud, waving towards her friends.

  A small, circular plate materialized on the ground next to her. Just as it came into view, Tom and Marissa exited the stratoskimmer, each with an electric pulse gun in hand.

  “This will lead you directly to Alex,” Samantha exclaimed. “There’s only one person in the whole complex,” she went on to say, pointing to the gray-hued Dr. Harding hologram. “And he appears unarmed. Good luck! I’ll stay here in case of any trouble.”

  The two then ran onto the sphere as Samantha watched the readouts on the control panel. Ensuring their safety, she pressed a button on the holographic desk and the disk quickly descended below ground. She watched as they were lowered about a hundred feet until they reached a long tube running parallel to the surface. The two were there then whisked down at high speeds.

  “Terminate the project immediately,” a voice said.

  “Excuse me?” Harding asked.

  “I said,” the voice reiterated matter-of-factly, “terminate the project immediately.”

  Samantha jolted her head towards the voice and noted a new holographic figure had entered the underground room. Alarmed, she could not believe what she was hearing or seeing. It was Jules Windsor. Though appearing sickly, he was apparently ordering the execution of Alex and whoever else might be in the canisters.

  William was right!

  “I want to tie up all the loose ends,” Jules ordered. “No need for them to come back and haunt me some day.”

  Harding looked baffled. Though he respected Jules, his cachectic appearance and ostensible disregard for the humanity in the canisters made him skeptical about the orders. “Are you feeling alright?” Harding asked.

  Because Jules’ public address was not broadcasted at the Training Grounds, Harding remained unaware of the nanosplicers or the events that had just occurred at The New Reality’s Georgian headquarters.

  “I feel spot on,” Jules responded. “Now, about those loose ends.”

  Not interested in his orders, Harding continued looking at the desk while frantically pushing a few clear buttons on the control panel. “I’d love to help you,” he responded half-heartedly, “but it seems as if we have some intruders about to gain access directly to this room at any moment.”

  Harding continued working while Samantha thwarted his every move as if playing a high-tech chess match, whereby the winner would gain control of the room.

  “Do it now,” Jules commanded. “It’s not my concern who gets into the room. As long as Alex is disposed of, I don’t care if they throw a damn party down there. Just do as you are told.”

  Before Harding could respond, Samantha jumped on his gray-colored quantum entanglement image and immediately dropped him to ground. He attempted to fend her off but was completely dumbfounded by the invisible assault.

  Though small in stature, Samantha pummeled Harding while he was on the ground. Now on top of him, she inundated the man with a barrage of punches and elbows.

  Despite the pounding, Harding was eventually able to push Samantha off him and roll to the side. Still without any clue as to what had just occurred, he staggered over to the desk. On her knees, Samantha grabbed one of his legs and bit it. Though pain seared through Harding’s calf, he managed to slowly drag her along the ground and over to the table.

  Just as he was about to access the control panel, the door to the room dematerialized. With two shots to the chest, he took direct hits from both Tom’s and Marissa’s electric pulse guns. Harding fell back onto the floor and began to quiver in the wake of the attack.

  Samantha breathed a sigh of relief.

  “That was too close,” she then exhaled, leaning back on her elbows.

  Three holographic figures appeared above the desk in front of Samantha and began to slowly spin around in a circle. Numbers quickly emerged around them along with pictures of different bodily systems such as the lungs and heart.

  “What’s going on?” Samantha blurted as she got back on her feet.

  Running over to the desk once again, she started typing on its clear buttons. “This can’t be,” she uttered in disbelief, knowing all too well who was now in control of the computer system.

  Despite her best attempts, Samantha was trumped at every move.

  The holograms continued to rotate as more and more numbers appeared around them.

  Samantha watched helplessly as these numbers next to each of the organs rapidly approached zero. In the process, they began blinking as if warning of a potential catastrophic outcome. There was nothing she could do to stop it. Alex was going to die.

  Chapter_34

  The overwhelming number of Persian soldiers seemed insurmountable. No matter how bravely or ferociously the Macedonians fought, they were no match for the fresh reserves continuously making their way to the enemy’s front line. Without a miracle, defeat was inevitable.

  Alex looked down the battlefront as he continued riding along his army’s right flank. Though his mind began thinking a few steps ahead about future troop movements and battle plans, he could not help but focus again on Jules.

  It all makes sense, Alex thought, realizing Jules’ true motives. The Open Society is a complete scam! At first the thought of such a unique form of governance did pique his intellectual interest but now the sinister nature of such a plan became painfully evident.

  “Unlike having a world-wide police force,” Alex mentally concluded, “an Open Society would require no mass surveillance or extensive governmental intrusion. Such a society would create a broad economic disparity whereby the super-rich would partake in all the planet’s wealth while the rest of the world’s population would fight amongst themselves for the pittance left over.”

  Alex was angry with himself for not understanding the ominous implications of such an inherently corrupt institution. He recognized now that by not
only encouraging but also empowering people to divide into smaller, separate groups, each with their own individual identity and beliefs, society as a whole would be become too fragmented to mount any type of meaningful resistance to the class of super-rich bankers, politicians, and businessmen who were oppressing them. There would therefore be no need for an international WOG force or massive military oversight. People would be too busy fighting amongst themselves to actually generate any significant resistance to the government or make meaningful changes in the progress.

  “King Alexander,” Philotas asked, nervously riding alongside him. “What is your next order?”

  Alex’s attention retuned to the battlefield. Now was not the time to lament over mistakes. He needed to win the battle, deactivate the lock and get out of this virtual world before it was too late—and to do it without getting killed in the process.

  “That’s it!” Alex yelled. “Just as I predicted!”

  “What, King Alexander?” urgently asked Philotas. “What do you see?”

  “Lyssimachus, hand me my lance,” Alex said to his bodyguard. “Let us not delay our actions any further!”

  “Alexander?” said Philotas. “What is it?”

  “Right there,” Alex said, pointing across the river. “King Darius has sent most of his reinforcements to the center of the line, leaving his left flank with little backup. It’s the exact opportunity I have been anticipating!”

  Riding up to the Companion cavalry, Alex held out his lance. “To victory!”

  The soldiers, in turn, held up their lances and repeated Alex’s words with even more vigor. “To Victory!”

  Taking the lead, Alex rode Bucephalus straight up to the front of the line. With his bodyguards and the rest of the Companion cavalry now behind him, he made one final adjustment to his helmet and repositioned the sword along his waist.

  “Lances forward!” commanded Philotas, awaiting the final attack orders from his king.

  Noting the Macedonians were preparing their assault, the Persian archers and javelin throwers across the river also readied their weapons.

  Without saying another word, Alex signaled the attack by galloping alone toward the Pinarus River. Philotas and the rest of the cavalry immediately followed him, charging full speed on an all-out offensive.

  As Alex and his men hit the river full stride, water splashed in all directions, creating a heavy mist in the air. Knowing only to go forward, their horses were not intimidated by the lack of visibility and continued their charge without hesitation.

  Greeting the Macedonians as they raced across the river was a heavy barrage of projectiles hurled by the Persians. The soldiers’ thickly compacted linen and bronze body armor gave them adequate protection against this attack, allowing them to charge forward almost unabated.

  Alex galloped directly toward the center of the Persian left wing. With only unarmored archers occupying this part of the line, he hoped victory would be both swift and easy.

  As the Macedonians drew closer, the Persians pelted them with a second barrage of projectiles. Again producing little effect, the Persians were forced to draw their swords for protection, leaving their javelins and bows unattended on the ground.

  Showing no sign of fear, Alex set his sights on an archer along the river’s edge. Without breaking stride, he successfully struck the Persian soldier directly in the face with his lance. The blow was so powerful that it almost decapitated the man, killing him instantly.

  The other Macedonians riding with Alex proved just as ruthless. Within seconds hundreds of Persians lay dead or dying.

  Because of the swiftness of the attack, reinforcements had little chance of relieving their colleagues along the front line. Row by row the Persians were slaughtered by the oncoming cavalry. Their lack of armor and short swords was a feeble defense against the long and powerful Macedonian lance. Those not instantly killed died from trampling as the cavalry pressed forward unhindered by the meager resistance.

  The cavalrymen began to cheer at their swift success and watched as many of the Persians fled for their lives.

  “Save your ovation until we have won the battle!” admonished Alex. “The fight has just begun!”

  After inflicting numerous casualties, Alex’s lance eventually snapped in two. While half of it was still in his grasp, the tip lay implanted in the chest of a Persian lying dead on the ground.

  Taking his sword from his waist, Alex continued fighting. With fewer and fewer of the enemy remaining, he and his men began to chase them deep into Persian-occupied territory. With their backs turned to the Macedonians, they made easy prey. The death toll began to rise into the thousands as Alex and his men killed almost at will.

  The surviving soldiers along the Persian left flank soon were in mass retreat. Their chaotic withdrawal was so quick that they began to overtake the reserve soldiers behind them in their bid to escape the carnage.

  The unwanted influx of men created such disorder among the Persian ranks that it was impossible to deploy any of the reserves in an efficient manner to counter the Macedonian offensive. With all the soldiers running back into their own men, deployment of troops along the left flank was a tactical dilemma.

  Despite the enormous success causing a rout, Alex realized that their initial victory would be short lived once Darius was eventually able to marshal his vast remaining troops up to the front line along his left flank.

  “Philotas!” called Alex. “Turn to the left. If our phalanxes are to hold, we must hit the Persian infantry now along their newly exposed flank.”

  Alex knew that he commanded the respect of every cavalryman who rode into battle with him. If anybody could have them change position in the surrounding chaos, it was Alex.

  Pointing his sword at the Persian infantry, Alex and his bodyguards immediately galloped toward their exposed side.

  Aided by Philotas’ cajoling, the other cavalrymen recognized Alex’s abrupt change in direction and followed him.

  The Persian soldiers continued pounding the pikemen back into the river. Exhilarated by their success, they were determined to break the Macedonian line and end this battle quickly. In their haste for victory they were unaware of the rapidly approaching Macedonian cavalry charge and were ill prepared for what lay in store.

  Alex’s sword soon became blunt as he slashed his way through row after row of men. Continuing his assault unabated by the dullness of his weapon, he bludgeoned to death every Persian soldier he encountered.

  “Forward!” Alex pleaded to his pikemen. “Forward to victory!”

  Like many of the world’s great leaders, Alex wanted to inspire his soldiers through action more than words.

  Horns once again began to blare along the long line of Macedonian pikemen. At the sight of Alex’s quick victory and his successful attack against Darius’ front line infantry, there was an immediate resurgence of their courage and strength.

  “Till death or victory, whichever comes first,” they chanted.

  Having overcome near defeat, the Macedonian pikemen were able to successfully regroup and mount a new and stronger offensive. Invigorated by the sight of their king, they began to shout and roar as they again started to push their opponents backwards.

  This time, the Persian reserves were unable to relieve their beleaguered colleagues. Still in disarray from the fleeing soldiers, they could not coordinate a legitimate counter-offensive.

  With the thrust of the pikemen now moving forward, unabated by fresh reserves, the Persians found themselves at the mercy of the phalanx formation. The metal plates under their quilted tunics and shorter spears proved woefully ineffective against the longer and sturdier Macedonian pike. Men by the hundreds quickly met their demise as the phalanx tore into their line, impaling anyone in its path.

  Unlike his fellow pikemen, Parmenio and his men continued to meet stiff and unrelenting resistance. The Persians they faced were among the finest of the East and had not faltered even though the Macedonian offensive made progress else
where along the battlefield. Whether these Persians did not note what had been happening to their left or simply did not care, they continued fighting with intense veracity.

  Despite the opposition, Parmenio’s left flank was able to hold their position. Deeply entrenched along the shores of the Pinarus, they were proving extremely difficult to drive back any farther into the sea. It was a true testament of human endurance and tenacity. But with exhaustion setting in, help was surely needed. No man could fight forever, and as the battle wore on, Parmenio, along with his soldiers, was nearing collapse.

  “Do not let them regroup!” Alex shouted to his fellow cavalrymen. “Stop them before they can mount a counterattack!”

  Despite his cajoling, a mass of 8,000 Persian reserves were able to assemble and ready themselves for battle. Many with spears in hand, they attempted to form their own phalanx in an effort to counter Alex’s cavalry attack.

  Wanting to crush these reinforcements, Alex again took the lead and rode Bucephalus straight through the Persian soldiers along the front line to their rear. Due to the rashness of his actions, only a few bodyguards were able to follow. As of yet, the rest of his fellow cavalrymen did not note his change of plans.

  Alex immediately turned, and to his surprise there were only 10 other Macedonians accompanying him. The rest of his men were far behind, separated from him by a mass of enemy soldiers.

  Now positioned between 8,000 Persian reinforcements to his front and the entire enemy front line infantry to his rear, Alex had inadvertently placed himself in extreme danger.

  Lyssimachus and the rest of the bodyguards looked around frantically, searching for some route of escape for their king. But they, too, came to the realization that they were alone and in the center of hostile territory.

  “King Alexander,” pleaded Lyssimachus, “let us return from where we came. Surely if we stay, it will prove to be the death of us all!”