Star Angel: Prophecy

by David G. McDaniel

  He wanted to be. He so desperately wanted to be. Only he knew he never could. She did too, he was sure. Reason would tell her that. There was no way she could truly think he would live forever. He could tell she was desperate and he wished he had something else to give her. Something helpful to say.

  Instead he forged on. To the real thing on his mind. It was too late to fix this anyway. No need to hold back.

  “To answer your question, as part of those changes I’ve started to sleep. Yes. And,” and he paused before saying quietly: “It scares me.”

  She studied his eyes.

  “I fall into these terrible dreams,” he said. “I can’t see. There’s just, incredible sounds. Explosions.” He could tell that struck a chord. Jess understood quite well what it was to have nightmares. She didn’t have to say a word for him to know it. He could see it clearly in her eyes.

  She had bad dreams too.

  His own eyes fell and he found himself looking down, lost in his thoughts. When he spoke it was even more quietly:

  “I’m afraid.”

  He looked up and saw her bottom lip quiver. Her eyes had begun to glisten in the low light but she wasn’t crying. Wouldn’t. But he could feel the sadness radiating from her.

  “I’m afraid to close my eyes, Jess. I …” he made his voice firm. This was no time to sound weak.

  “Each time I do I’m afraid I won’t wake up.”

  And she was back in his arms.

  He pulled her to him.

  CHAPTER 4: TRAPPED

  Willet walked with leisurely purpose along the sidewalk of the peaceful Earth neighborhood, working hard not to look conspicuous, even as he felt the weight of his otherworldly origins. Recon missions on Anitra had been his specialty, and though this particular outing was about as low-key as one could get—he was in a quiet suburban area after dark, no clear threat—he couldn’t get past the fact that, on this mission, he was not so much behind enemy lines as he was locked utterly within them. There was no border he could hurry back across if things went badly, no way to get safely to friendly lands. There were no friendly lands. The entire world was occupied. Anywhere he went he would still be “behind” enemy lines.

  He stuck his hands in his pockets and made himself stroll. Passing in and out of soft pools of light cast by the fake gas lamps lining the landscaped sidewalks he could, if he let himself go, imagine being any one of the homeowners of this cozy little affluent neighborhood, out getting some air. After a bit of laying low he’d left the Paquin family at Bianca’s house, done a few sweeps of the city then taken a cab back to the outskirts of Jessica’s neighborhood. He wore her dad’s clothes, which didn’t fit too poorly—Willet was just a little taller—and found the Earth “jeans” not only comfortable but perfect for walking with your hands in the pockets. It was almost like they were made for that exact activity. Pants like these would’ve been a hit back in his home town on Anitra.

  Idly he ran his fingers over the Earth cellular device in the right pocket. The “phone” was a small unit with all kinds of features, things for activities beyond just talking; “apps” and connections that let you do pretty much anything you could on the larger computers every home on Earth seemed to have. While some of the technology of this world lagged behind that of Anitra (no portable fusion power here, for example), their communications tech was insane. Every man woman and child on Earth was so plugged in—he wondered how the Kel were coping. So far the invaders had either elected not to or had simply been unable to shut it all down. Willet had a feeling it was a combination of both, a conscious decision on their part, but he’d still love to be looking over the shoulder of their brightest minds as they tried to figure this shit out. They must be overwhelmed by the sheer glut of information. Surely they were filtering the important things, trying to keep up with the rest—which meant anything could be tapped.

  Which meant he and Zac had to be careful.

  He turned his gaze to the night sky. Stars were visible, the ambient light from the soft street lamps not completely washing out the heavens. Somewhere up there was the Kel fleet and, he was certain, Satori. The aliens wouldn’t have kept her at one of their mobile ground installations. She was a high-value target, possessing critical information as far as the Kel would suspect, and therefore they would’ve taken her back to the fleet for detainment and interrogation.

  Willet wondered if she was still alive.

  A surge of determination washed through him. He would find a way to her. He would rescue his love and take her home. Dead or alive the Kel would not have her.

  As he was thinking this he came into view of Jessica’s house. Casually he took the phone out of his pocket, thumbed the correct contact and put it to his ear.

  After several rings Zac picked up on the other end.

  “Hello?” Standard Earth way to answer.

  “It’s me,” said Willet. “I’ll be home in a few.”

  “Cool. We’ll be waiting.” And Zac hung up.

  Willet stuck the phone back in his pocket. Earlier he’d seen a small overflight of Kel craft, fighters or shuttles in size—a relatively infrequent occurrence in that area so far—and so he curtailed his investigation of the city, deciding to accelerate things and reconnect with Zac that night. Something about the low-running flights had his recon senses on alert. He’d been doing this sort of thing far too long to ignore them.

  Something was up.

  Then, suddenly, Zac’s words registered.

  We’ll be waiting?

  What did he mean “we’ll” be waiting? Was that just part of his cover? Was someone else really there, waiting with him in that idyllic two-floor house?

  Who?

  Willet maintained his pace. If it were anyone else on the other end of the line he might’ve worried. Like maybe the Kel had them hostage and they were trying to give Willet a subtle hint. But this was Zac. No one had him hostage. And if they did he certainly wouldn’t be calmly answering the phone, passing secret messages while his captors glared threateningly at him in the background. No, if anyone was capable of taking Zac hostage and making him talk on the phone in a normal voice the entire neighborhood would’ve been leveled first.

  The last hundred or so steps seemed to take forever, so eager was Willet to find out, but he made himself walk leisurely and soon found himself at the front door being let in by Zac and, there, behind him, coming down the stairs in a form-fitting suit of armor ...

  Jessica.

  “Jess!” he nearly shouted, probably too loudly even under the circumstances, rushed past Zac to the foot of the steps and made it up three before she was falling headlong into him. She threw her arms over his shoulders and around his neck.

  “Willet!” she squeezed him with enthusiasm and held onto him as he squeezed her back, his arms tight around the strange armor, face filled with the exuberant toss of her fragrant hair. She smelled so fresh it was incredible. He blew a little aside as she continued to squeeze him, not letting go, and he found himself laughing.

  “I would ask where you’ve been and how the hell you got here,” he chuckled and put a hand to the back of her head, holding her tight, “but I have a feeling we might not have time for your answer.”

  “Oh Willet,” she pulled back and kissed him on the cheek, then again, and again, and her head was back over his shoulder and she was hugging him harder than ever.

  “Sadly I’m getting used to these unexpected surprises.” He craned to look back over his other shoulder at Zac, still standing down in the foyer by the door. The young Kazerai looked about as glum as he did when Willet left him, which was odd. Willet figured Zac would be smiling ear to ear in view of the fact his girlfriend had magically shown up. After believing her lost forever, now here she was. Instead he looked troubled.

  Jess released and pulled back, keeping her arms over Willet’s shoulders. She stood two steps up, leaning on him, head only a little above his own from that elevation. She looked down at Zac. Then back at Willet, nose inches
from his.

  “Zac told me about Satori,” she said. Willet felt his smile drop—and as it did he noticed, alarmingly, how much Jessica had changed. Even in the low lighting on the stairs he could see it. Her skin was darker, her features … striking; still the same teenage girl at first or even second glance, the exact same Jess he remembered but, as he saw her now in such proximity … it was like she’d acquired a certain agelessness.

  And her eyes ...

  Her eyes are like gold! What happened to her eyes? Intense, yellow, boring into him. Even as he felt their intensity, however, he realized it wasn’t so much that her gaze was boring in. More like ... it was drawing him out. Seeing him. Really seeing him. “We’ll get her,” she said and there was power in those eyes. Tangible power, more than ever before, and not only did Willet believe her when she said it, they would find Satori—this was Jess, after all—but he wished he’d never so quickly dismissed her telling him just how the hell she got there. What happened to you?! Where have you been?!

  Suddenly he really, really wanted to know.

  “I’ve changed,” she answered his reaction as if those questions were written plainly on his face. They probably were. Had to be. She remained with her arms over his shoulders, so close he could feel her sweet breath. “But only a little,” she smiled. A beautiful, reassuring smile, white teeth and magical, and he felt the corners of his own mouth turning up. All concerns, all worries in that moment melted and she was there. You’re here!

  Jess was back.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” he said it. For reasons he might never understand—and yet were true from the moment they met—Jess gave him confidence. She’d gone on from that first meeting to prove herself worthy of that initial impression, time and again, and as he looked now into those strange eyes, so different and yet so the same, she so much shorter, so much smaller than him, standing two steps up and leaning on him with both arms—a simple, teenage girl by any other reckoning—he knew better. Whether it made any sense or not her presence made him feel supremely confident in that instant and he was glad she was there—so glad—and he hugged her again with the renewed enthusiasm of it.

  “Your parents are safe,” he said over her shoulder. “Your sister too. They’re with Bianca’s parents, at her house. For the moment they’re all ok.”

  Jess released him and stood back.

  “Thanks. Thanks to both of you for taking care of them.”

  Willet could tell she had more questions, could imagine she probably even wanted to call her family, to tell them she was home and had returned, but he also saw she was smart enough to know that would create more problems than it solved. She truly had changed. Grown. He could sense a greater wisdom. Here was a soldier that stood before him. Armor and all. A true warrior.

  “Where did you get this?” He reached and touched it. The armor felt smooth and high-tech, and his careful examination did little to change that impression. High-tech yet … archaic. Who wore full body armor like that? And, he processed fully as he studied her, there was a sword strapped at her back. An actual sword.

  “It’s part of the long answer,” she said. “For now just know that it’s old, and it’s advanced.”

  Willet nodded, about to make a remark, but noticed her eyes had drifted past him to Zac.

  “What is it?” she asked. Both she and Zac were suddenly on alert. A subtle change of attention, like animals hearing a sound. Zac was staring across the living room at the windows to the back yard. The glass was black against the night but he wasn’t exactly looking. More, listening.

  Then Jess was walking past and down to the bottom of the stairs to stand beside the tall Kazerai.

  “They’re coming,” she said to him. “Aren’t they.” Zac kept staring. She walked into the living room. Willet couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t sense anything, but both Zac and Jess were suddenly keyed up. Zac followed her to the windows and stood with her to the side, peering out. Willet joined them. If anything was about to happen he had absolutely nothing to fight with. He was in civilian clothes, no weapons. All his gear was upstairs.

  Zac was pointing. Willet crept up to the edge of the glass and followed his finger out the window, moving his head until there was no glare and he could see the sky.

  He thought he saw a shape moving up there.

  Then: “Shit,” Jess cursed and was moving away from the window, even as …

  A dark object nearly as big as the house itself descended right outside. Not the shape Willet saw in the sky—that was another one—but one that had been directly overhead. Reflexively he ducked, peering out the window in morbid fascination as a Kel landing craft hovered in just above the ground. Impossibly soundless for all its mass, the low frequency hum of its powerplant becoming tangible in proximity, gently pulsing his eyes and ears and thrumming the walls as it moved closer and held steady in the air. Landing gear unfolded and snapped taut, the only real mechanical sound it made, then it dropped the rest of the way to the ground, crushing the small playhouse in the backyard beneath it. The edge of the swing set came beneath its edge and crumpled like so much foil.

  Before the lander was fully settled an exit ramp was dropping and a squad of Kel warriors were starting down; dark, ominous figures silhouetted against the green-lit bowels.

  This was happening too fast.

  Shit. He wasn’t ready. Fuck! What now? He turned to Zac, Jess, mind racing, about to suggest a course of action—though in truth he had no idea what to do—but to his shock Jess was moving quickly for the back door.

  What the—

  Faster. In the next instant she was rushing outside.

  To the arriving ship.

  Willet whirled to Zac, hoping he might make sense of it, but Zac was just as confused. Hurrying after her.

  CHAPTER 5: UNLEASH

  Jess banged out the back door and broke into a sprint as she hit the grass, deadly focus on the Kel craft in her yard. Attack was the only option. What she was doing in that instant was absolutely insane. She knew this. There she ran, heading straight for the aliens in a pre-emptive strike that could only work if she executed now, before they had any chance whatsoever to anticipate. No time to consider options. Overwhelm the small group of Kel soldiers and destroy them before they could react. No time to plan, no time to discuss with Willet or Zac, no place to hide and nowhere to run. In that instant she was “on” in ways that could barely be described, leveled up to eleven, amped and in flight and set for the kill.

  The Kel squad was halfway down the ramp, surely bent on their own accelerated sweep of the house to catch the humans unaware, but Jess could see in that instant between instants that they did not expect a reversal of their own intended shock and awe. Certainly not executed by a single attacker. The expressionless masks of their helmets told her nothing, but the involuntary jerk of their bodies as they caught sight of her surging from the darkness, a single human girl running at them at impossible speed on an intercept course from across the yard, said it all.

  They were not ready for this.

  No, she thought grimly, you’re not.

  “HA!” she struck, one hand out, even as with the other she reached and drew her sword. The air rippled from her palm, a faint blue glow in the night, connecting with two Kel at the front and punching them backward into the others, scattering alien soldiers.

  “HA!” again with her free hand, sword out and firmly in the other, blowing more of them back against the ramp, the ones to the rear tumbling into the hold they were just striding from so confidently.

  Then she was up the base of the ramp and running the first Kel through where he lay, rolling to rise. To her satisfaction the metal of the fantastic blade pierced the Kel armor and that one was dead. One to his side was disoriented but his rifle was coming up and she thrust her fist at him.

  “HA!” sparks popped from her clinched knuckles as his chest ruptured from the inside, armor buckling outward, gore spewing from the cracks. Blood leaked from the seams of his
faceless helmet.

  Three more Kel were getting their bearings; she yanked her sword free and went for the closest …

  Zac flew past. A blur but she knew it was him. He was on them and hammering them dead in the same instant, smashing their heads and on to the next as they tried to escape the sudden madness. Jess was past in the same deadly fashion, working with him in tandem, running another Kel through.

  The soldier fell from her blade and she jerked it clear, turned and leapt all the way into the hold. Shots fired; erratic; electric, sparking the air. Zac was sweeping two others to their deaths; a fluidity of movement between she and Zac that could not have been more coordinated if it was choreographed. Even as he nailed Kel to the interior walls with stains of bloody annihilation she was rushing ahead to the cockpit, a battle cry on her lips, sword out before her, point straight and through the gut of one running rearward into the hold in response to the melee. He got off a shot as she crashed into him, the electric snap of the rifle singing the air too close, stinging her nose. Zac moved with mind-numbing speed as she had the sword before her, shiny with Kel blood in the green lights, another coming from the front …

  “HA!” a punch, a sharp warble of force and he was blown back the way he came, skidding onto the deck in the forward area and she was charging in, around the edge to the last Kel in sight, still seated at a control panel. As the sole helmetless alien looked up in shock her sword stabbed through his eye and all the way through the back of his head, chinking the wall behind. It was brutal. She yanked the blade back and he slumped. Zac was right behind. The one she’d blown backward stirred on the floor and Zac stomped his head—almost an afterthought—scrunching the armored helmet beneath his heel like a can. Kel blood splattered and oozed on the deck.

  Jess and Zac locked eyes.