Star Angel: Prophecy

by David G. McDaniel

  Jess forced a smile.

  “You’ll be an aunt.”

  “An aunt?”

  “Of course. You’re like a sister.”

  Nani considered that, touched.

  “Bianca too. Both of you. The one thing that’s holding me together through all this is you guys. Family. I’ve got such incredible people around me … ” Jess bit back a very frustrating urge to cry, and for a second Nani, too, looked on the verge of a stronger reaction. She turned and went across the room, over to the bench where Jessica’s sword and armor lay beneath an array of scanners and instruments.

  “I finished deciphering the inscriptions on the blade,” she said as she reached the bench. “They are in fact coordinates.” She picked up the sword, brought it back and handed it to Jessica. Jess gripped it; angled the blade side to side and looked up and down its reflective, blued edge, eyeing the line of tiny etchings.

  “I checked them against star charts from the Reaver,” Nani slid a finger across the smooth metal. “There’s a match.”

  Slowly Jess lowered the sword.

  Nani searched her eyes. “A world that was part of their hegemony back then. Don’t worry, it’s not known of by the current Kel.” Together she and Jess shared a look of relief. “The planet is called Hamonhept,” Nani continued. “Same description you gave; ringed, blue gas giant for a mother world, basically a moon, inhabited by humans when discovered.”

  Incredible. That was the world she’d been on.

  “It was suspected to be one of the seed worlds of the Ancients,” Nani added, “same as Anitra, Earth and a few others in the Reaver’s records. The Kel colonized them back then and made them part of their rule.”

  Jess turned the sword in her hands. “Hamonhept?”

  Nani nodded.

  For the moment Jess put all that aside. She took a deep breath and dropped her focus to the sword. Light reflected brightly from the blued steel; an impossibly sharp edge, an impossibly strong blade. She found herself admiring it, feeling the bond between wielder and sword. A warrior and his weapon were one, and the way this one felt in her hand, the sheer perfection of balance …

  She stepped back, away from Nani and twirled it. Again, faster, hearing the crisp sing of its edge through the air; held it straight in both hands as Nani watched, fascinated and, perhaps, a little in awe. Jess was good. She shouldn’t have been, not at this early stage, not without practice, but she was and she’d stopped questioning the Why of how these things came to be. The sword felt like an extension of herself, like she’d always had it in her hand, like in the dream, like she was a master, and that was that. She held it straighter and looked down its length. Unbreakable. Not, at least, by any force she could ever hope to exert. And so that was one less thing to worry over. The key could not be broken.

  There were plenty of other worries to consume her.

  Hamonhept, she rolled the name in her head. Familiar, now that she repeated it. The name of the world where she made her last stand a thousand years ago, as Aesha, Kel priestess. A name that sounded Egyptian, like Cheops and all the other tell-tale signs from that place. This new reality just kept exploding to greater and greater scales of impossible fact. It was like an ancient alien theorist’s wet dream.

  “The gate will take me back to Hamonhept,” she said. “That’s where I plan to hide the Codes, once I find them.”

  Nani nodded.

  “It’s going to be one wild ride,” Jess lowered the sword. “A lot of this is going to depend on timing.”

  **

  Incredibly the hammer had not yet fallen. Each day, each hour, General Peterson expected that to change. Each hour that passed he was proven wrong. It wouldn’t last, of course. Eventually the hammer would fall. But each day the Kel let them continue with the basics of their existence …

  In truth that was one more day the humans had a chance. Even as the Kel methodically re-set the chess board following the brutal removal of the entirety of the Earth’s defense, the human resistance gathered steam. The Kel knew this sort of thing was going on, certainly they expected it, but their strategy so far had been to not pursue it. To not lock things down too tight. Life went on. Seven billion people were carrying on. For now. And maybe that was a smart move on the part of the Kel. Peterson suspected that it was. But he was also counting on human ingenuity and resourcefulness to come up with something magical, an as-yet-unseen way to exploit what they knew, what they were learning, and engineer the greatest upset of all time.

  Keep pounding. That was the mantra, and Peterson and his little network were doing exactly that; relentless, tireless, determined in the face of impossible odds …

  They would find a way.

  One of his aides walked in from the adjoining room. “Here you go, sir,” he handed him a brown paper bag. Peterson took it, opened it and took a whiff.

  Ahhh. He let the aroma wash through him.

  Delicious.

  “Thanks.”

  The man smiled, handed him a cold soda and went back to the other room, joining a handful of others gathered around tables eating. At Peterson’s request the aide had just executed a “mission”, one that was a stark illustration of the completely effed up situation that existed on Earth. The world’s militaries had been destroyed, major forms of freedom of movement such as commercial air shut down, shipments were being monitored, the world was completely on hold yet … commerce continued. His aide had just taken mass transit into the local city, gone to a little sandwich shop Peterson favored—a Mom-and-Pop he’d discovered years ago—and picked him up a Reuben. Peterson loved Reuben’s, and the smell coming from the bag was promising. If it was even half as good as the one he remembered …

  Eagerly he took out the warm sandwich.

  Around the globe their network of operatives was working to put together strategies. Right there, in that operations hub, they were trying to tie it all together. Most of their efforts had centered around developing an understanding of the enemy. So far they’d made great strides. More than that, though, their key resistance cell, managed by former high-stakes Project head, Drake, had successfully secured the asset. The superhuman—Zac was his name—and another, both of whom had additional knowledge of the Kel. They were in the fold and more plans were being hatched. Peterson could sense the gathering storm. The resistance needed to move fast.

  The clock was ticking.

  He unwrapped the Reuben and held it in his hands, savoring the smell. It was still hot. If there were paychecks involved he would’ve given his aide a raise.

  He lifted it to his mouth and took a bite.

  Heaven. Every bit as good as he recalled and then some. Maybe better.

  It felt weird to be eating what felt like a piece of contraband, but what the hell. Out in the other room he heard the rest of his team talking and joking as they ate; heard the pop/fizz of soda cans being opened.

  He popped open his own and took a drink. Nice and cold.

  Ahh.

  Things weren’t over yet.

  CHAPTER 16: UNBREAKABLE TENSION

  Jess was in her armor, sword in its sheath, small, flat harness mounted at her back containing the transit device that was, in effect, a one-way ticket home. Bianca was with her, Egg, Nani and Darvon, in one of the Conclave’s old meeting halls, no one else in attendance. They’d not mentioned her plans to the Daimyo or any other “authorities”. Jess was going alone, with only these people surrounding her now, her closest friends, her family, to see her off. Once more she was about to leap directly into harm’s way, this time by her own decision, no accident, no fluke of bad timing, knowing full well what she did and just how incredibly dangerous and impossibly difficult it would be, and as she stood there among them, the moment upon her, she wondered, honestly and with full, exterior perception, if she’d finally lost her mind.

  “Give me, like, two weeks,” she said, needing to maintain the momentum in those final moments, before she activated the device and was gone for good. “Try for me t
hen.”

  Now that Nani had the coordinates for Hamonhept from the sword, matched to the Reaver’s records, it improved Jessica’s plans. Nani and Bianca would take the Reaver and go to Galfar’s world and meet Jess after she came through the gate. Once she went to Earth, once she made the leap from this room, right here, right now, she went, essentially, dark. It was too risky to give her anything with quantum coordinate info on Anitra that could possibly be captured by the Kel, including quantum devices she might use to communicate. So, advanced as this operation was, parts of it were to be very old school. Like meeting friends before cell phones (something Jess had only heard about from her parents). You decided ahead of time when and where to meet, then everyone showed up. If they didn’t show up … well, you waited. And hoped they did.

  Whether Jess reached Hamonhept before or after her planned mark of two weeks, there were contingencies. That time frame would be the rough guide for the rendezvous, enough time for her to infiltrate the Bok, find the Codes, get to the gate and get to Galfar’s world. There were a million variables between her and that end—it would, in many ways, be an Indiana Jones- or a National Treasure-style scavenger hunt—but she felt strongly about the odds. Once she had the Codes the second activation of the harness would get her to the gate and, with the sword to unlock it, through to Hamonhept and safety. Where Nani and Bianca would find her.

  Of course the Kel could’ve found the gate already. Anything was possible. Other contingencies were hard to prepare for, and so they were sticking to the simple. She couldn’t dwell on possibilities of failure, couldn’t even really plan for them in any sensible way, and so she went. She was going, she would do it, she would pull it off and it would be a success and that was really the only option.

  She checked the little communicator device she did carry, strapped to a small armored pouch mounted at her waist. The short-range communicator—not quantum; just a standard comm—would allow her to contact Nani in orbit once they were both at Hamonhept. Along with it she carried a few bits of gear that might be needed, everything small and light. She had a direction finder, an LED light and a tiny, bad-ass plasma cutter. No food, a small bottle of water. She would replenish those as needed once on Earth.

  “This still seems too dicey,” Bianca’s worry had charged on unabated. Over the last day or so her friend had alternated between support, ambivalence and downright terror at what Jess set out to do. Jess would never make it, she was sure, and so Jess did all she could to reassure her friend, even as she sought to reassure herself.

  It was dicey. Very dicey indeed.

  “I know,” she agreed.

  “Jess … just … stay with us. You’re pregnant! Just stay. There has to be another way.”

  “B. You know there isn’t.” She turned to Nani. “I’ll turn this on after I pass through the gate,” she tapped the communicator. “I’ll check as soon as I do. If you’re not there I’ll leave it on. If you come and I’m not there, check back when you can. I will make it.”

  Nani nodded that she would. Of course she would. “We will,” she looked to Bianca, who was rapidly approaching the verge of tears. Nani turned to Jess, an emphatic tone to her voice and posture: “Even if you take longer, don’t jeopardize your safety trying to keep a schedule. We’ll get you. Don’t worry about that.” Nani stepped forward and hugged her. “We will get you.”

  Jess hugged her back, the ancient armor fluid, seamless in that action. Nani squeezed her.

  In parallel with this Nani was chief mastermind of the whole, massive operation to take the Anitran army to Earth and fight the Kel, and if that happened before Jess was through then, well, she might be waiting on Hamonhept a long time.

  But that was of little consequence. If she made it through then a little wait, even a long one, meant nothing.

  So much in play!

  Jess knew her biggest risks were on Earth, where she had to make it through the fire alone. There was a failsafe, of sorts. If she chickened out, if she chose to bail before the objective had been achieved, before she’d found the Codes, she could always activate the harness—anywhere in the world—and end up in the woods near her house. From there she could use the gate and go back to Arclyss and safety. There would be no shame in that. The mission to retrieve the Codes would be a failure, but she would be alive.

  Bianca was reaching for her, grabbing her in a tight hug. The tears had arrived and Bianca was sniffling. Then Egg came, then Darvon and Jess gave each a turn, near tears herself by the time she released the last embrace.

  “You guys stay on schedule,” she said. “Make the fight happen, no matter what’s happening with me. If we haven’t made contact, keep things on track.”

  Nani nodded. She pointed to the harness: “It should be totally shielded,” she said. In addition to everything else she’d customized, Nani had also managed to shield the device in such a way that the Kel would not be able to detect its use. When Jess arrived, when she switched locations—none of that should show on their detectors.

  Bianca’s face was flushed from the brief tear fall. Jess thought of a little something to say, for the hope it might give: “There are other things, B. Other things I need to tell you. They’ll have to wait but trust me. Don’t worry. Okay? I’m going to do this and I’ll be fine.” She reached and touched her friend’s shoulder. “Believe in me.”

  “I do, Jess. I do believe in you.” Then: “I love you, Jess.”

  “I love you too, B.”

  And her arms were around her neck again, squeezing tight.

  **

  Haz rode astride the great Erius, directly in front of Galfar, the mighty stallion’s rump blocking most of Galfar’s view. He’d been staring at those giant hips pumping up and down for the entire march.

  “There!” someone shouted from the front, a deep bellow from one of the Fist. Impatient, Galfar coaxed his smaller steed to the side, around Erius, into the columns of mounted warriors at either flank. No matter where he positioned himself every horse was bigger, every man a hulking brute; a wall of bodies through which he could see nothing.

  “What is it?” he called up to Haz. High atop Eriuses’ back Haz could see easily over the heads of the others.

  “A group approaches,” he reported. “From the city.”

  Galfar strained harder, leaning this way and that, suddenly unable to stand the constant occlusion any longer. He steadied himself against his little horse, hands flat against its shoulders, raised himself up and brought his feet to its back—far beyond the agility he should possess at his age but he made it work—concentrated a bit of focus on the direction of the mental energy that would move him, pushed with hands and feet as he directed that force down and out and …

  Leapt with an exaggerated arc over to Erius.

  Whuff! he landed on the big steed’s back, right behind Haz—clutching at his son as he nearly fell.

  “Wha—” Haz squirmed at the unexpected presence, making it worse for a dangerous instant, then reached back a hand and steadied his father.

  “Sorry,” Galfar grabbed his waist and held on, then leaned around him to see ahead. “Should’ve told you I was coming.” Erius tossed his head and glanced back, a snort and a humorous gleam in his eye. It was at once a welcome and a laugh. Galfar’s acrobatics amused him.

  And there in the distance was their destiny.

  Even the broken spires of the ancient city had been mostly lost to sight as Galfar clomped along in the midst of the bigger bodies, now there was the Necrops, dead ahead, spanning the horizon from side to side, dark and ominous, a threatening wall of rot and despair. Before it, stretched in a thin line, were the forces of Arclyss, striding out to meet them even as they, the Brotherhood of the Fist, strode out to meet them. The two groups were yet far apart but would soon meet at the center of the open plain. Neutral ground between the two fortresses.

  “Widen flanks!” Cheops boomed from the vanguard. Galfar found him, red crest of hair and massive red beard, leading the pack in t
heir slow march. At his command the columns spread, mirroring the formation of the approaching horde. The horde, too, moved methodically, and as their dark shapes drew ever closer Galfar was gradually able to make out the details of their form. In all the years his vision had not faded, and was in fact as keen as ever, and for a moment, as the horde took shape, he wished he was a little more blind. The riding beasts of the horde were a travesty; mutations of what Galfar suspected had once been animals native to those parts. The horses used by the Fist and others on Hamonhept were gifts of the Ancients, not from this world, but there were riding beasts of other kinds, and these things here, these beast ahead, were mere shadows of those native animals, too disfigured to be absolutely sure of their origins. And the riders …

  The riders were worse still.

  The Scourge. Ruined humans, it was said, and there was a definite humanity about them—but barely. In the best cases they were close enough to pass for humans that carried disease or some other injury; in the worst they seemed barely human at all. It did not get better as the groups got closer, and at some point Galfar noticed the Fist around him pulling tight, sitting more and more rigid in their saddles, uncertain in the face of this frightening menace. Warriors they were, no doubt, capable and fierce, but it had been a long time since the Fist went to war directly with the horde, and this generation of warriors, most of the ones on this march, had never engaged them at all. Most had never seen their avowed enemies. Only stories told them what to expect, and from their expressions it was clear even the stories had not been enough to prepare them.

  “Hold!” Cheops shouted from the fore, looking back and forth across his wide body of men. They held. He’d come with nearly half his host, prepared for whatever Arclyss might bring. Prepared for what he, Cheops, intended. War. The forces from the Necrops were about as many, now that Galfar had absorbed their frightfulness and given them a more studied consideration. How they would fare in a fight against the Fist, what they were capable of …