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The Rathmore Chaos: The Tully Harper Series Book Two

Page 19

by Adam Holt


  As I stared at him in disbelief, he glanced my way casually. Among all these thousands of Ascendant, did he see me?

  Looking toward the ground, I turned back to the stage, my heart in my throat. Tabitha stood before me, twenty feet tall and radiant. Sawyer sat behind me, with his sharp blue eyes piercing my skull. And on all sides Ascendant guards, but not very many. There were too few to stop our plan, but what if we through Sawyer into the mix? The chances of success dropped dramatically.

  Janice nudged Sunjay, who nudged me. “It’s time,” he whispered. We were supposed to move forward, then split up and jump onto the stage just as the lights went down and the curtain reappeared. Most of the crowd wouldn’t notice. They would exit for intermission. It all worked out, except now…

  I turned around again. As the darkness fell on the scene, Sawyer’s blue eyes grew brighter. Did he recognize me? Out of all those thousands of people, he stared directly at me. Yeah, he recognized me. How could he not? He had unlimited memory, and my tattoos could not hide my bone structure or the shape of my irises. He might have been surprised, but he believed his eyes, which were monitoring my blood pressure and heart rate by then. Tully Harper, enemy of the Ascendant, stood just a few hundred meters in front of him. He looked left and right, then right at me and blinked three times. He was sending me a message, loud and clear. Of course I see you...

  I didn’t move, even when Sawyer stood calmly and lifted both of his hands. At the same time Sunjay tugged on my sleeve. I didn’t respond. I wasn’t frozen. I was coiled like a spring. Think before you act, Tully. Sawyer knows you are here, but he has not seen the others. The plan must work. Create a diversion. Save the operation. Save your friends.

  I willed myself to action. I turned my back on Sawyer. “Sunjay, the plan starts now,” I said. “I’ll be right behind you. Take Janice. Go. Now. But promise me. No matter what happens, do not turn around. Do not look back.”

  “What?”

  “Trust me, Sunjay. The plan will fail if you do. Now go!”

  The final moment before intermission came. The theater grew darker before the lights came up. I could see just fine, and so could Sawyer. I turned to face him. He still held his hands up towards me, but I noticed he held up only eight fingers. Slowly, another finger dropped. Seven.

  “So you want a chase?” I mouthed toward him. He nodded and grinned. Yes. “Then let’s go.” I knelt down for a moment, prayed, and then, the spring uncoiled. The house lights came up in the theater.

  Two things moved in opposite direction. Sunjay and the rest made for the stage, and I charged for the back exit. I threw myself into the air and flew over the Firsters and Seconders. Those that saw me gasped and pointed. After what happened in the arena, they could not believe that someone dared to go flying into the air again. They started a mini-stampede, and I jumped right over them…and under the Lord Ascendant’s balcony, where Sawyer was counting down my doom.

  But there was a commotion behind me, too, as Operation Grabitha went into effect. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Sunjay, Janice, Buckshot, and my dad land on the empty stage. The stage magnified them to an enormous size. They disappeared backstage in their search for Tabitha. With any luck, they would find her and make for the submarine. I would be right behind them.

  I couldn’t stay airborne for long. The crowd lurched away from me in horror as I landed, but I managed to melt into them. The surprise drove us all the way through the lobby and onto the wide street. If any black staff had seen me, they lost me in the crazed crowd. Only Sawyer, with his steady eyes on me, could find me now.

  He must now be at three. Just move, Tully. Move!

  Now on the street I leaped again. The Ascendant below me stared and pointed, splitting apart as I landed and then leaped again. I crossed the broad street to a line of fancy mansions. I leaped over one of them and landed in a thicket of purple fruit trees. Wow, from theater to orchard in six seconds. That has to be some sort of record.

  All this leaping would have been fun, but then I saw one of the fruit trees burst into purple flame. Behind me appeared black staff after black staff leaping into the orchard in hot pursuit. But above them, one hundred feet in the air, I saw a black speck that could outleap us all.

  I crashed through the thicket, then stopped dead in my tracks, trying to control my breathing. Think, Tully, think. The Fifth Step was too wide; there was nowhere to lose my pursuers. I couldn’t hide in the orchard forever.

  I heard several thuds nearby. Five of them. Then the tree above me shook. I didn’t move an inch.

  “Tully Orion Harper,” boomed a voice from the treetops. “Here to save Tabitha? You are quite a dreamer.”

  You have no idea.

  The tree shook again. Sawyer leaped to another vantage point. I took a breath.

  Shadows crept through the trees around me. The smell of sweet fruit. The crunch of leaves. The telltale buzz of a black staff nearby. Just one.

  I needed to be quick and quiet, just like my dad taught me. The Ascendant passed me before I jumped on his back and put him in a chokehold. He dropped his black staff and raked at me with his fingers, but I held on. In seconds he dropped to his knees, unconscious.

  I picked up his staff and looked around for my next opponent. The staff felt heavy in my hands. Then I shook my head. What am I doing? If two black staffs show up, I’m roasted. If I wait any longer, there will be two hundred black staffs in this orchard. Whatever I do, Sawyer will have me. It was like being on an unbeatable level of Cave-In!, where you just can’t advance because you don’t have the right equipment. I can’t win the Fifth Step. If the Sacred was awake, I could blast my way out of here and take on Sawyer once and for all. It would be better to restart this game and...that gave me an idea...yes, move back a Step!

  There was a red marble wall on the far side of the orchard. After that it was a thousand foot drop into the ocean. Beyond that was the Fourth Step though. It was only a few hundred feet below and full of shops and tiny alleys.

  Mine as well go for another record.

  I put down the black staff. Placing my hand and foot against the nearest tree, I looked at the pale light of Jupiter through the canopy. Then I leaned back and launched myself toward the wall. Purple sparks exploded on my right and left as the black staffs picked up my movements and tried to blast me through the canopy of trees. I bounded forward, covering ten feet, twenty feet, fifty feet with every step. I flew past tree after tree until I reached the open space in front of the wall. I left the ground just as a fireball hit. The heat almost overwhelmed me, but I landed on my final mark—the top of the wall. I planted both feet and broad jumped off the wall, Buckshot-style, leaving the Fifth Step behind.

  I did not look down. I looked back at the black staffs. A dozen of them stood on the wall watching me fly away. They did not follow. They fired their black staffs toward me but were out of range. That was the good news. And my distraction worked. Even better! Go, Tully, go!

  The bad news? My enemy did not pursue me for good reason. I might as well have jumped into the mouth of a shark with a stick of dynamite in my hands. Yeah, then I looked down. There was nothing below me except water. Once I crossed this gap, I would still be hundreds of feet above the Fourth Step and falling, like a hovercar with no fuel. In the low gravity, it was a gentle fall, but it wouldn’t be a gentle landing.

  “Hey, Bacon,” I said, grabbing him from my tunic. “I could use some help here.” He held on to his hat as the air began to whiz past us. “Yeah, we’re falling, but I’m not sure if we will reach terminal velocity.”

  “Terminal velocity is the maximum speed an object can achieve while falling,” said Little Bacon. “On Earth, it is roughly 130 miles per hour.”

  That sounded like a death sentence. Flattened like a bug on a windshield.

  “Well, what’s our terminal velocity here?” I asked.

  “Terminal means ‘final’ or ‘closing,’” he said, “but it can also refer to an incurable disease.”

/>   “Eh, thanks,” I said. Math was not his specialty, and neither was it mine. Think, Tully. Terminal velocity on Earth = 125 miles per hour. Less gravity on Europa. .1335G. So terminal velocity on Europa = ????. Sounds less terminal, is all I could come up with at the time.

  Looking down, the shops and streets of the Fourth Step looked so small, like a miniature alien world. The wind whistled in my ears. My hair rustled in the wind like that young Ascendant’s tunic in the arena. Was I about to meet the same fate?

  I had no control over how or where to land, and it looked like I was headed for an open area behind a gate. Oh, stars. The Ascendant Warrior’s Training Ground. Nice aim, Tully. Now you really need a “Restart Mission” button.

  There was worse news though. Worse than falling to your death? Yep.

  I heard a voice behind me, inhumanly loud. None of the black staff jumped, but someone did.

  “Tully, my secret friend, you never cease to amaze me!”

  GREEN TO GRAY TO BLACK

  Lincoln Sawyer looked way too comfortable to be falling. I guess if you’re an android with a titanium exoskeleton, you don’t worry much about landings. You’ll hurt the ground more than it hurts you. His arms were spread wide, and in one hand he held his weapon of choice—a black staff. He trailed me by about one hundred feet and closing.

  “The last time I fell like this, Tully, was in outer space,” he yelled to me. “Remember your little trick?”

  “How could I forget?” I yelled back. The picture crystallized in my mind: his flailing arms as he floated through the portal into space, his bright eyes dimming to black. It seemed so final, like someone’s dying breath. Apparently not.

  “That was no way to treat your mentor,” he said.

  “You were never my mentor,” I shot back.

  “Who taught you to fight with a Bo staff? Me. Who offered you a position among the Ascendant? Me. And who did you betray? Me. Me. Me! Oh, the irony. You could have lived on the Fifth Step. Now you are falling to the Fourth.”

  “You betrayed the entire Earth, you metal-headed monster!” I yelled. Great conversation to have while I’m freefalling to my death. My last words will be “metal-headed monster.”

  “Call me names if it makes you feel better, Tully. You thought I was lost, but I am found. The Lord Ascendant himself searched for me. He appreciates my usefulness so much more than the Space Alliance. He finds it terribly helpful to have someone at his side who can memorize a billion faces and read the lips of 10,000 people at one time.” I wondered if he could really do that. I thought back on the theater. At least we had our back to him the entire time. He doesn’t know about Operation Grabitha. “The Ascendant improved me, Tully. Look at this new skin! And they programmed me to feel emotions, Tully! Real emotions.”

  “You feel pretty good right now,” I said, trying to form some kind of plan in my mind. My hair whipped into my eyes. Don’t die yet was about all my brain could do.

  “I feel fantastic!” he shouted, “but soon you will not. At this rate of velocity, you will impact the ground in twenty seconds at about 40 miles per hour.”

  “Oh, I already figured that out,” I said. No reason to give him the satisfaction.

  “This will likely break several bones,” he continued. “In case of injury, try to remain conscious, please. The Lord Ascendant and Gallant Trackman would prefer it.”

  Being hauled in front of them could not have sounded worse. I turned toward my landing spot, the warrior training grounds, a tank full of knives and piranhas. At least Sawyer was there to capture me, not kill me. But capture would be as good as death. My only hope was that Operation Grabitha worked.

  That’s when my arms and legs began to tingle. Then my whole body.

  What on Europa? I lurched sideways suddenly, away from the training ground to a new destination. Yes, a narrow street lined with fruit and fish vendors and a large, deep, green fountain at the end. A splashdown would be better than a splatdown.

  An angry bellow behind me. Sawyer tried to grapple me back toward himself, but something had pulled me away from his reach. I was almost between the buildings and too far away for him to do much...but the little he did almost ended me. He altered my fall, and as I fell between the jade buildings, past the open windows, despair hit me. I’m going to miss the fountain after all.

  The Ascendant below pointed and screamed. “Icarus! Icarus!” they yelled, running for cover. Icarus? They mistook me for someone else. I reached into my pocket and clung to my lucky shell, hoping that a pair of wings would sprout from somewhere.

  They didn’t. I fell through an awning that slowed my fall. Below me was an alien street market. Flowers, food, arts, and crafts. I saw an enormous pile of ice and raw oysters—or something like that. It was all coming at me so fast. Then, splat and crunch. Not exactly a clean tuck and roll.

  A moment of blinding pain. The impact made my left arm completely numb. I tried to prop myself up with it but the pain increased. I saw stars and smelled seafood, but there was no time for pain or stars. I pulled myself from a pile of shellfish. My left arm didn’t work but I was on my feet (at least those still worked), limping and bounding up the deserted street. Sawyer would be on my slimy trail in no time.

  Tug. A force yanked me sideways into a dingy alley full of rotten fruit and fish bones. I guess that’s a sign. I staggered down the dark, smelly alley.

  From the rooftop I heard Sawyer’s voice. “Tully, no more. Your friends are caught. Your plan is foiled.”

  No. No, no, no. He lies. All he ever does. Keep running.

  A gray alley. It looked more like the First Step than the Fourth. And it was dark. No, it’s not that dark. It’s my vision. Oh, no, not now. I could feel my head getting lighter, my stomach churned, the stars returned. The pain from my arm suddenly peaked. Was it dislocated?

  I should do it now. The pain will only get worse.

  I grabbed my dead arm. I shoved it upward. Nothing happened. I pushed it down and forward. Pop. The pain brought me to my knees, but my arm was back in place.

  I tried to stand back up, but the pain held me down. I tried again. My vision blurred. My ears rang.

  No, hold it together. Keep moving. Don’t pass out. Do. Not. Pass. Out.

  Two shadows appeared at the end of the gray alley. One of them carried a black staff. Oh, no, no, I thought, turning back toward the street, but a shadow blocked my way. I took a swing at the shadow. It grabbed me from behind and hauled me toward the end of the alley. The pain. The exertion. The whole situation overcame me. Captured by the Ascendant at last.

  Five minutes ago I had been standing in a theater plotting how to save the most beautiful girl in the universe. Now I was about to die in a dingy gray alley.

  No. No, no, no. Not like this.

  Do not pass out.

  Do. Not. Pass. Out.

  Do. Not...

  PART FOUR: ICARUS

  LITTLE OUTLANDERS

  Black. Black to gray. Gray to red. The first Sacred Dream in many months appeared to me.

  I found myself isolated in the middle of the Red Storm Arena. A crowd filled the stands. It seemed angry and scared, threatening to jump into the arena and tear me limb from limb. They jeered so loudly that I didn’t notice what was in the arena with me. Flaring its nostrils, lowering its head, and charging in my general direction, was a white bull. I turned to run.

  Then a gust of wind hit me. I stumbled on but looking over my shoulder saw an enormous hawk beat the air with outstretched wings. He landed between the bull and me. They fell into battle, one charging with horns and the other slashing with talons. They rolled in the dirt, locked in combat. I tried to summon my powers and they actually worked! I created a portal and prepared to jump in. I would be safely away in an instant. However, I hesitated. As the bull finally hooked its horns through one of the hawk’s wings, I sprang toward them wanting to rescue the hawk, to distract the bull. The hawk saw me coming, and he batted me away.

  “But I can save you!�
� I shouted at the hawk. “We can defeat him together.”

  “Then who would save them?” the hawk replied, looking at the crowd. “They are the ones you must save.”

  What did it mean? What were the hawk and the bull? Why did the crowd need saving?

  Whatever the dream meant, two things occurred to me. Number one, I was still alive. Maybe captured or tortured but alive. And number two, the Sacred had awakened. My visions returned, and so had my powers. As the red mist receded, I came back to my senses.

  My shoulder throbbed, my head felt like a corkboard full of thumb tacks. The muscle between two of my ribs made me wince with each breath. But I guess if I felt pain, it meant that I was indeed alive.

  Voices. A number of them, all in Greek. I hesitated to open my eyes, expecting the cold blue eyes of Lincoln Sawyer looking into my soul.

  I lifted my head slightly. It was on a pillow. A bedspread covered me. I pushed back the bedspread with my right arm. The left was in a sling. While the bedspread had been on top of me, nothing supported me. I opened my eyes and realized I was in some sort of sleeping chamber.

  The Ascendant next to me took notice. He held something like an electronic screwdriver in his hands. He twisted it and I floated out of the enclosure into the main room and found myself on my feet.

  He dismissed the other Ascendant nearby and then spoke to me in Greek. I said nothing. He repeated himself in English, but I hardly heard the words. His presence left me speechless.

  The young Ascendant before me was striking. Red and gold streaked his braided black hair; he wore a dusty Fourther tunic; his face was sincere and youthful. He looked about 25 years old in human years, but something told me that he was older than that.

  His sharp, blue eyes, flecked with gold (and purple and red), told me more. They watched me with a combination of care and cunning. They weren’t cruel like Sawyer’s, but intelligent, empathetic, trying to read between the lines of my story. For some reason I wanted to spill my guts to him right then, just tell him my dreams about the bull and the hawk and maybe my real name.

 

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