Star Angel: Prophecy

by David G. McDaniel

  Damn you! she raged silently at her Praetor.

  One of the other commanders spoke. “Do we really need to risk this? We’ve seen what he can do. Shoot it down.”

  “No!” Kang stunned them. “You will not shoot it down. Horus is mine.”

  “Then lock it down. Lock them out.”

  Voltan directed his response, not to the commander, but to Kang. “Where do you intend to fight him?” he turned directly to face the horned beast, fearless, and in that instant of confrontation Cee grudgingly admired her top commander. He consistently refused to be thrown off his game by the unstoppable monster. It was a fleeting admiration. “Do you expect us to bring him aboard one of our ships?” Voltan pressed. “So that you might destroy him in your quest for vengeance?”

  Kang stared hard at him. Wanting to kill him. Cee could almost taste it. Kang wanted to kill them all. Should she let him? The thought, absurd as it was, flirted dangerously with reason. It was getting harder to ignore.

  Annihilate this regime in a flash of fury, bring in a new. One decisive rampage from Kang, even for a second, and the rebuilding could begin.

  She made herself be heard. “Override it. Hold it until we can make sense of this. Can we not override it?”

  On the comm screen Eldron was already checking.

  “Their familiarity with the controls is crude,” he said. “However, as long as there are inputs …” he glanced up. “We’re locking them out and inserting overrides.”

  CHAPTER 8: THE RESISTANCE

  Drake left Bobby at the work bench and went back to Fang, where the elite hacker sat with several other coders checking feeds. The new safe house was buzzing with activity. They’d resolved a fresh set of Kel transmissions that bore a detailed investigation and were currently monitoring the related confrontation, something taking place in the States. Something the Kel were devoting high-level channels to, in fact, and it had begun to draw the team’s full attention. Prior to those developments Drake had been talking to Bobby about the mysterious tablet, the one left in the club by the girl, Jessica. Bobby had finally managed to figure out how to open the case, and after cracking the molecular seal had performed some basic forensics, determining that, not only was the device alien, but it was ancient. Kel, for sure, but not like the rest. Subtly different from the other bits of Kel equipment they’d recovered, and while they didn’t have the means for exact dating they were confident the tablet belonged to the aliens and was at least several hundred years old. Maybe older.

  How Jessica came to have such a thing in her possession …

  But those speculations were only just starting and would have to wait. The conversation in the room was heating up along different lines, and it was clear the small disturbance in the States, halfway around the world in America, was taking on increasingly relevant proportions.

  “Anything?” Drake asked as he stepped to the long table, looking over his brain trust. Hastily wired monitors, laptops and computer towers all along the tabletop, brilliant minds at each, working to intercept and decode Kel traffic—an ability they were becoming increasingly good at. Drake was impressed with how handily his team had broken down and evaluated the swiped alien gear, especially under these conditions. In the field, on the run, lacking proper equipment yet …

  They were decoding the Kel.

  “We’ve captured elements of a video,” Fang tapped and switched to another feed, snapping a window to the center of a large monitor directly before him. He had four screens at his station, wrapped in a semi-circle, lines of code and multiple applications open on each. The central screen now showed a video with blocky elements at the edges, breaks shooting occasionally through the image as it unspooled, results of incomplete decoding. But the image was clear enough, and what Drake saw gave him pause.

  It was the guy from the castle. The super guy, who had gone on to wreak havoc with the Kel forces on the battlefields in Spain. Who later fought the monster, Kang. Who, before any of that, leapt hundreds of yards to Drake and his team, shiny chrome transit device in hand, the one they’d been looking for at the Bok castle. The guy from the club, who’d been with Jessica; the guy who turned out to be a force beyond reckoning.

  The guy who could, in fact, be an ally.

  Drake leaned closer. “Can you magnify any of that?”

  Fang did, turning his attention to the video long enough to resolve it and bring it into focus. The degree of multitasking their lead hacker maintained continued to impress. Drake no longer knew a fraction of the details of what Fang and his team cracked, but each day, each hour, it seemed, they were getting closer to a full tap on the Kel network and, they hoped, command and control itself. The nervous system of the alien invaders, and the sheer brilliance of the minds gathered at this ad-hoc table in the middle of nowhere in that dingy little warehouse …

  It was staggering.

  “That’s him,” Drake said, half to himself, looking over Fang’s shoulder as the hacker continued to tap, click and drag, rolling between screens, sending messages to others even as he generated and scrutinized data.

  “Who?” Fang asked idly, not stopping or even pausing.

  “The guy,” said Drake. “The one that fought the demon.”

  Fang spared a moment to scrutinize the video on his center screen more closely. On it the dark-haired guy was leaping from a Kel landing craft.

  Fang made a little hmpf sound and went back to what he was doing. “Wonder what he’s up to?”

  “When was that video taken?” Drake stood straight but kept his eyes on the video as it looped. “Is it real time?”

  Fang spoke Chinese over a stalk mic, though the guy he talked to was only a few people away. They all wore stalk mics and earpieces, an affectation, it seemed, as they were close enough to hear each other, but it was as if they thrived on being in their own encapsulated worlds, dealing with each other only through the electronics. There were two other Chinese, part of Fang’s group, a German and two Americans that made up the core.

  “A quarter hour old. He’s on another landing craft,” Fang repeated to Drake in English as the other guy spoke in Chinese at the end of the table. “With another human. This is what we’re getting from the Kel. The humans seized the craft. We don’t have much on the Kel next intentions, that traffic is mostly internal at the moment, but we know they want the humans. The humans are piloting the landing craft to one of their vessels in orbit, but the Kel are inserting overrides.”

  “The humans are flying a Kel lander?” That was a new one.

  “Yes.”

  “And the Kel are taking control to make it a remote-control prison bus?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “We need him,” Drake said, even as the thought came to him. “We need super guy.” Could they get a message to the craft? No. There was no way to make that happen, Drake didn’t even dare dream it, but they needed this guy. And the Kel were about to capture him. Absently he wondered why the guy didn’t break out like he did from the other one. And why was he flying toward the fleet? Did he want to get captured? Could the Kel capture him?

  Fang was shrugging. “I still don’t have full translations,” he said. “It’s pretty clear though. The Kel have sent an override to the landing craft and, near as I can tell, accepted inputs within the craft are about to cease. The occupants won’t be flying it much longer.” Drake marveled at Fang’s brisk efficiency, though by then it was quite expected. Fang went on: “We’ve been working on a packet tagging system that’s more or less ready,” he said, then laid a bombshell—an idea so dramatic that, if it worked: “It’s possible I could use that as in intercept, to piggyback information. Maybe insert commands or take counter control. Send a message.”

  Drake’s mouth worked a few times before he formed words. “You mean …” he latched onto the impossibility of it, even as a potential scheme took hold: “You think you might actually be able to insert your own commands?”

  Fang shrugged. “At this level, if we’re fast
, if it’s enough of a surprise and they don’t react quickly enough to shut us out …

  “Maybe.”

  Incredible.

  Drake watched as Fang sighed, eyes locked to the screens before him. Where he lived. “If he’s as valuable as you say this might be a good chance to test a few things.”

  Drake pushed his mind ahead. Fang, as had become usual, needed no further discussion of the concept but had, instead, thought forward to an idea.

  “So you think you could create a ...” Drake fished for a description.

  “An override for the override.” Fang tapped and clicked, looking from screen to screen, already on it.

  Incredible. Drake couldn’t stop thinking it.

  Fang kept tapping. “I can at least slip a communication band on theirs. For a short while. Maybe even disrupt a bit of their control instructions. If I can’t take direct control, I might be able to interrupt theirs.”

  Drake took a moment to regroup.

  “We can’t compromise our position.”

  “No guarantee,” said Fang. “We’re still working up the proofs, but they’re solid. On the other side of that, here’s a prime opportunity. If you want that guy … We have a shot.” Fang glanced up, sparing a precious second to make eye contact. “I would bet on us being able to cloak our inserted traffic, at least long enough.” He turned back and was checking a number of things at once, and Drake could tell, even among the lines of meaningless code, that the brilliant hacker was putting together how it would work. Almost like looking at the Matrix. “If he responds and agrees to seek our asylum, I can probably help him get the craft on the ground. It won’t be pretty but if we’re quick, we might pull it off. From there it will be up to your network to grab him in the field.”

  So far Fang had proven to be nothing but capable—and correct—in every estimation he’d made. Frankly, while this entire resistance demanded a force of people, there was no way they would have a chance without Fang and his group.

  Drake looked across to Bobby, his own in-house “brain”.

  And decided to trust Fang’s confidence.

  “Do it,” Drake told him. “But operational integrity is priority one. If there’s any hint they smell us, any at all, break it off. Kill the whole thing.”

  If they could truly get this super guy to them and if he could be convinced to help …

  Fang nodded and issued a few instructions to one of his collaborators. Then to Drake: “He speaks English?”

  “He does.”

  “Weird.” Fang kept typing. Then: “When I get him I’ll turn it over to you.” He pointed to a headset lying on the table and Drake picked it up. He pulled the earpiece over his head and adjusted the mic in front of his mouth.

  Fang kept typing. “And we think he’ll be on our side?”

  Drake mustered certainty in the face of something that had no guarantee at all.

  “He’ll be on our side.”

  **

  Zac watched. Willet was focused on flying the Kel landing craft, looking sharply between controls and what could be seen on the view screen, which was mostly just the dark, solid emptiness of orbit high above.

  “I’m just flying on sight,” he kept straining his vision into the darkness out the forward screen. “I can’t read any of this.” The rest of the time he cursed the myriad sources of scrolling info and flashing lights. Positional information, no doubt, things that could help, locations of other Kel craft and so on, but it was all completely alien. Quite literally. “Nani set the Reaver instruments for our language. None of this makes sense.”

  “We’re doing fine.” Zac stood near, straining his own incredible gaze into the empty beyond, searching for sign of anything toward which they might direct their flight. For now they were simply flying up, but they needed to get aboard one of the Kel capital ships.

  Willet was shaking his head. It was getting harder each second to keep him on task. Zac knew how absurd this was, how impossible, and he could feel Willet descending into glee.

  “What now?” he wanted to know. “I mean what the hell do we do now? This is not going to work.”

  “Just keep flying.”

  The futility of what they were doing was crushing, and Zac was having a hard enough time propping up his own belief. Now that they’d come this far, now that he’d convinced Willet to take the next step, now that they actually had a Kel ship at their command …

  What were they doing?

  If they got shot down or blown out of the sky, a very real probability, there was the off chance Zac would survive. He might fall to ground and live.

  Willet would not.

  “This is insane!” his friend shouted in frustration.

  “Just keep flying.”

  “Where!”

  “I’ll spot it in a moment,” Zac was looking. “Just keep flying.” He no longer felt much confidence in those instructions.

  Willet took a deep breath. “You’d think they’d send a message or something. At least. Even just to tell us we’re screwed or prepare to die or something.”

  Once again Zac was staring straight in the face of the frailty of the people he loved. So confident in his own ability, so sure he could save them, and yet they could be lost so easily. Satori could already be dead. No matter if Zac survived this, Willet most likely would not.

  Another friend. Lost.

  He noticed Willet seemed to be repeating actions at the console. As if …

  He leaned back, lost.

  “They’ve taken control,” he said, utter defeat in his voice.

  “Taken control?” Zac leaned over him, looking at the controls. As if he could actually do anything about it.

  The console beeped. A new sound, and Zac expected it was the message from the Kel Willet predicted.

  A voice came through.

  But the voice was human.

  And in English.

  **

  “Do you hear us?” Drake repeated, speaking into the headset as he stood near Fang. Fang, in turn, monitored the transmission. This little escapade now had their full attention. One slip here and they risked revealing themselves to the Kel. “This is Drake, from Earth. Respond.” He knew the super guy spoke English. So far nothing.

  Answer us!

  “We hear you.”

  Drake pushed the mic closer.

  “Is this the guy from the castle? In Spain?”

  A pause on the other end. “Who is this?”

  Drake recognized the voice. A voice he would likely never forget. “We’re the resistance.” It felt strange to say it.

  “Is this channel secure?” First question. Not a bad one.

  Drake looked to Fang. “We hope so. But we don’t have much time. We can help if you’ll let us.”

  Another pause. “How?”

  Drake glanced around the room. By then everyone was on their feet, intent on the unfolding drama. The last bastion of humanity, they were, the defenders of freedom, there in that cramped safe house surrounded by what bits of equipment they could come by, on the move, hiding from their new overlords all the while plotting how to overthrow them. Classic sci-fi underdogs, fighting to take back their world. And here was possibly a huge asset, if they could secure it.

  “We may be able to disrupt the Kel control,” Drake answered.

  “We’ve got an objective,” super guy sounded grim. “We’re on a mission.”

  As Drake tried to digest that—even as Fang reminded him he didn’t know how much more he could conceal and that, whatever they were going to do, they’d better do it fast—another voice on the other end discussed this with super guy.

  “We can get you to safety,” Drake tried to expedite things.

  The two aboard the lander didn’t take long to agree.

  “Yes,” said super guy. “Tell us how.”

  One of the team got Drake’s attention. “We’ve got a cell operating in southern Montana,” he said. “They might be able to facilitate a pickup and transfer.”

&n
bsp; Drake nodded and turned to Fang.

  “Can we?”

  Fang’s hands were flying over mouse and keyboard, clicking and dragging, bringing up screens showing the relative position of the target craft, its trajectory upward and the closest points on the ground below. “They’re moving at a slow, controlled pace. If I send them coordinates and cut this transmission, if they then fly to those coordinates we can monitor and react. A team could reach them.”

  Drake nodded. Spoke to the mic: “Ok. Here’s what we’re going to do.” He signaled his team to get Fang the coordinates and proceeded to give the two men in the Kel lander their instructions.

  In essence Fang was going to jam the Kel override. Super guy and partner would then fly the craft at top speed to the specified location. In fact, in the hurried discussion Fang determined he would be able to send a directional burst that, if it worked, would aid in aiming them toward the designated spot. Those coordinates were nowhere near anything of value, yet close enough to get them to an extraction point. Once down, crashed or otherwise, they were to get out and get as far away as fast as they could, evade detection, head north until they reached the outskirts of a nearby town Fang had identified and take cover there.

  If they lived through that, at the next sunset they were to find a way to make a call.

  CHAPTER 9: LONGSHOT

  Cee surged in anger toward the screen on the wall and held. Eldron had just reported that the override had failed and the humans aboard the landing craft were banking away. The rest of the Kel leaders in the room watched as this new, seemingly impossible twist developed live on screen. Eldron had become the presenter for the unfolding drama.

  “They’re heading to ground,” he said. “Moving faster,” he updated, switching to overlays of the new trajectory. “They’re in full control, heading with speed to a definite geographic point.”

  Cee stepped all the way to the screen.

  “Take back control!”