Paradise Awakened Trilogy

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Paradise Awakened Trilogy Page 26

by Mackenzie Morris


  "Even better. All right. Let me take a little break then I'll meet you in the hangar."

  The heavy metal doors to the simulation room slide open and four archons step inside, their wings shimmering in the bright fluorescent lights in the ceiling. Gabriel and Michael step up into Doss's face.

  "Nice fingers, Uriel." Gabriel says as he pets his black wolf standing next to him.

  "Thanks. I bet it will hurt more when I punch you now."

  Michael chuckles and pushes roughly past Doss. "Seems like Clark couldn't beat that arrogance out of you. Should we finish the job?"

  Velex draws his laser pistol. "Stand down, archons. We don't want any trouble."

  "We just came to use the flight simulators." Raguel says as he drinks from a silver flask and smoothes his rough red beard.

  "Go ahead. I'm not stopping you. Just don't touch Doss."

  "Oh, are you his protector now?" Gabriel mocks. "What's wrong, Uriel? Not able to defend yourself? Did that fall take that much out of you?"

  He's not going to dignify that with a response. They want to make him angry, but he's not going to give them the satisfaction of seeing him get angry. He takes the rosary in his hand and breathes deeply before going to the door.

  The archon with the jade wings and long white hair stops him with a gentle yet firm hand on his shoulder. "Birds of a feather, in a brotherhood of lies, never fly alone."

  Doss locks eyes with him for a few intense moments as no ill feelings pass between them. He's always been one for haikus and this one seems to mean more than anything he could have told Doss. "Thank you, Zerachiel."

  Zerachiel leans close and whispers in Doss's ear. "Be careful with your dark matter shields."

  "Threat or warning?" Doss asks.

  "Helpful advice from someone who cares."

  "Again, thanks."

  * * *

  Being behind the controls of a real space fighter brings back so many memories. He runs his fingers over the numerous buttons and switches as he instinctually remembers the functions of each one. His skin begins to tingle with the anticipation of flight in the beautifully crafted machine. These fighters have come a long way in thirty-two years. Doss closes his eyes for a few moments, listening to the slight buzz of the computers. He had forgotten how wonderful technology could be when used for the right purposes.

  Velex's voice comes over the radio. "Ground to Righteous Fire, do you read me?"

  "Loud and clear."

  "You ready for this?"

  "I've been logging a ton of hours on the flight simulators to get ready." Doss says. "I've been able to remember everything. It's all just muscle memory at this point."

  "Training simulators and actually flying are two different things."

  "Hey now, give me some credit. It may have been close to forty years since I've been at the controls, but I still know what I'm doing. Let's stop chatting and get this going."

  "For today, we're only going to do four flyovers and stay in the atmosphere." Velex says. "Try to stay above ten thousand feet, but under fifty. While you can hit upwards of ten thousand miles per hour, I don't want you going anywhere near that fast until we iron out some points of concern, specifically in maneuverability and handling. You know how the older ones would lose that at hypersonic speeds? Well this new design paired with the atmospheric stabilizers should balance it out better. This is a brand new model that hasn't been tested yet, so you get to be the guinea pig."

  "Great. So if I blow up, I can blame you."

  "Sure. But in all reality, you shouldn't blow up. The heat shields have been completely overhauled and redesigned. You can control them and the temperature to trigger activation manually on the monitors."

  "This is so much better than those clunky space transports they use down on Earth."

  Velex laughs. "It should be. We've poured trillions of dollars into this prototype."

  "Hold on for a second. Prototype? I'm flying a prototype?"

  "I thought that was understood. It's never been tested before. Why do you think we're not leaving the atmosphere?"

  Doss shakes his head. "If you kill me, I'm going to haunt you."

  "Get serious, Doss. If something does go wrong, you can eject from the aircraft if you're under twenty thousand feet. That's only for you, though, because you can withstand more than a human pilot."

  "Well, that makes me feel better." He says sarcastically.

  "You'll be fine. Now get going."

  Doss tightens and secures the restraints around his chest then flips the row of switches above him as he checks the system details on the screen. Everything checks out. "Righteous Fire to ground, requesting launch clearance."

  "Launch clearance granted. You're free to go."

  He holds his breath as he pulls back on the lever next to him and starts down the runway. Ensuring that the wings are set to the correct position for takeoff, he settles into the functions of the plane, the simplicity of these advanced aircraft, and the relaxing calmness of it all.

  Once he's in the air, it's as easy as brushing his teeth. He's done this thousands of times. He accelerates a bit as he flies over the city and hits his normal cruising speed of six hundred miles per hour at fifteen thousand feet.

  Just when he is content with his flight, a small orange warning light begins to blink on the console. That's new. He decides to call it in. "Righteous Fire to ground, be glad that I don't need much oxygen."

  "What's wrong? The monitors down here show nothing out of the ordinary."

  "Oxygen levels are plummeting." Doss says as he taps on the screen. "I can't tell if there's a leak or if the filtration system itself is bugging up. Cabin pressure is steady. Run a diagnostic scan for me, will you?"

  "There's nothing wrong."

  "Just run another scan. I don't want to be up here when something critical fails." Doss says then is silent for a moment as a high pitched electronic buzzing fills the cabin and the engine monitoring system displays a warning message on the screen. "I'm getting some kind of feedback from the engine controls."

  Velex sounds annoyed. "That's normal. Stop panicking."

  "I'm not-"

  "That's an order, Captain."

  Fine. If Velex wants to be stubborn about this, then there's nothing Doss can do. However, the longer Doss listens to it, the more certain he becomes that something isn't functioning correctly. "Righteous Fire to ground, I'll be making one last pass then coming home."

  "Go ahead and test your dark matter shields."

  "Roger." Doss flips the purple lever next to the console and listens to the shields powering up. "Preparing dark matter shields for deployment."

  "Righteous Fire, check your cabin pressure. We are registering a significant drop."

  Doss pulls out the holographic display and scans over the data. Everything looks fine. "Negative. Things look fine up here. Maybe try resetting the connection. Do you still want me to active the shields?"

  "Go ahead."

  As soon as Doss presses the button, there is a surge of turbulence and an alarm sounds as the console flashes red. An explosion of glittering purple and black dark matter passes by the window. That's not good. Doss spins around in his chair and flips on the stabilizers, but the alarms only grow louder as his speed picks up. No matter how much he attempts to decrease his speed, he's accelerating at an alarming rate. "Righteous Fire to ground. There's been an explosion and I can't slow down."

  "You can do this." Velex assures him. "Just dial back on the throttle and climb back up above ten thousand feet. What are you doing up there?"

  When the entire system goes black, Doss frantically tries to restart it, but there's nothing. Oh dear God, please let the radio still work. "Everything's dead. I'm stalling."

  "You're at eight thousand feet and dropping fast."

  "It's completely unresponsive." He pounds on the console with his fists as another explosion shakes the aircraft and what he sees now makes him physically sick.

  "Ground to Righteous Fir
e, we see some sort of debris in your vicinity."

  "That's my right wing."

  "Repeat that, please." Velex says.

  "It's the right wing of my fighter!" Doss yells at him.

  "Oh shit."

  The console flickers back to life, but the altitude is falling fast. He pulls back on the yoke, but the only good that does makes him spin. "I have control again, but I can't slow down. I'm going down. Altitude at five thousand feet. Requesting evacuation."

  "Denied. Guide it in."

  "Guide it in? What part of my engines are malfunctioning don't you understand? I am doing all I can to keep this thing from dropping out of the sky like a rock. I have one wing, what sounds like one engine, and no control over any of it."

  "You're at two thousand feet. Pull up."

  "I can't pull up." Doss says over the alarms screaming at him. "I need to get out of here or I'm going to crash."

  "One thousand feet."

  "Damn it, Velex, give me clearance."

  "Five hundred feet." Velex says.

  Doss tears at his safety restraints and attempts to activate the emergency ejection mechanism, but nothing happens. "I can't get out."

  "One hundred feet. Doss, you're going to hit that building. Doss!"

  * * *

  The explosion shakes the ground and Blice flies outside to see the plume of black smoke and flames sweeping through the eastern residential area as sirens sound out around the city. His thoughts immediately go to Doss. He goes across the city to get as close as he can to the chaos. People are screaming as emergency crews drag the injured out of the inferno.

  News crews and reports interview witnesses and try to provide as much help as they can at the medical triage while firefighters combat the flames. A building collapses and spreads debris out into the streets, caving in the roofs of cars and hovercrafts.

  A firefighter steps forward and speaks into a speaker. "Everyone needs to move away from this area. The radiation from the destroyed reactor in the wreckage of the plane has contaminated this entire district. Unless you are an emergency responder, I need you to leave this area until further notice. We have to get a fallout crew in here to clean this up before even residents will be allowed back in."

  The camera crews and concerned citizens leave the area as one person joins them and waves at Blice. "Blice!" Velex calls out as he runs up to him.

  "Velex, where's Doss?" Blice asks.

  Velex is obviously distraught as even he has tears in his eyes. "Gone. That was his space fighter. Something severely malfunctioned. Everything died and then he stalled out, lost one of the wings, and crashed. I should have let him evacuate the aircraft, but I thought he could regain control enough to land it. It's my fault. He's gone and it's my fault."

  6

  Katarina brushes her purple hair as she sips a glass of Jayce's homemade white wine. She watches Jarred and Jayce together on the bed playing poker in their boxers. How does a blind man play poker? Perhaps he can see enough with the virtual vision programs in his mind. Maybe it gives him an advantage to be a computer.

  "Kat, you want in on this?" Jarred asks.

  "Nah. I don't have any money."

  "Oh. I'm sorry. I forgot to pay you." Jarred pulls out a clump of bills from his pocket and counts out some. He tosses the money to her.

  She stares at the money in her hand. "Why are you paying me? I belong to you."

  "We're a family here. According to other owners, androids might be slaves, but not with me. You do the work, you get paid. Now do you want to play?"

  "Poker isn't my thing."

  "Then we'll bet on something else." Jarred says. "So, I've been meaning to talk to you about some things that have been happening around here lately. First, as your owner, I need to ensure that you are mentally and emotionally stable. With Byron being taken by the IGR, I have to know if you are coping well. I know that you love him."

  "I do. I love Byron very much. Our relationship is not what most people would view as a very conventional marriage. We're more open with things."

  "Like you being involved with Zach?" Jayce asks as he lays down his cards and gathers all the money on the bed.

  "You know about that?" Katarina asks.

  "Oui. Tout le monde sait. Everyone knows."

  Katarina feels her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment. She hadn't realized that they were being that obvious. What she sees now hurts her a bit and is surprising. Jarred isn't smiling about it. "Did I say something wrong?"

  "Forget about it, Kat." Jarred says.

  "No. If there's something you need to say, then do it. What's wrong?"

  "You can't love two people."

  "I don't love Zach."

  "Byron is a good man." Jarred says. "Don't hurt him."

  "I would never hurt Byron."

  "You already have."

  "What do you mean? I've done nothing but be there to help him through everything."

  Jarred throws down his cards angrily and stomps into the kitchen. "This is why I didn't want to discuss this. I shouldn't have said anything."

  "Why are you so mad all of sudden?"

  He slams the cabinet shut. "You've been playing him hard for as long as I've known you and I'm not the only one who's seen it. Do I need to bring your father in here so he can talk with you?"

  "I don't understand."

  Jayce lies back on the bed with his arms behind his head. "Stop being a heartless bitch."

  What did he call her? "Excuse me?"

  "You heard me. All you ever do is get in the way and hurt those who try to help you. Put her in her place, Jarred. She's never known what it's like to have a strict owner. Now's your time to train her."

  Jarred drinks half a bottle of wine then comes to stand in front of Katarina. "Your husband gets taken across the galaxy and he may very well be dead. What do you do about it? You sleep with Zach right after you find the note Bryon left you. How dare you claim to love him? If something ever happens to Jayce, God forbid, I'll fall apart and not be able to go on. Jayce means more to me than my own life which I will gladly lay down for him without a moment's hesitation. That is love. What you are trying to pass off as caring is a selfish attempt at self fulfillment. You think you're doing a good thing by being with a poor dying man over twice your age, but all you're doing is playing with his emotions. I'm sorry, but I couldn't sit back and keep quiet about this any longer. And by the way, don't try to say that he's been unfaithful to you. I don't know what's going on now wherever he is, but I know for a fact that Byron hasn't slept with a woman other than you since your mother."

  "Oh yeah? How do you know anything about Byron?"

  "Because I'm his grandson!" Jarred screams. "I've been looking for him all of my life and I finally tracked him down. I'm twenty-four years old and I had never met my grandfather. I'll be damned if I'll let you hurt him now."

  "Grandson? How is that even possible? Byron would have been what, about ten when he became a father?"

  "Yes. If Byron never told you about how my father was conceived, then maybe I shouldn't tell you."

  "Tell her." Jayce says. "Maybe it will shed some light on things."

  "Fine. He was raped by a much older woman out in the wasteland. He was only ten years old. She got pregnant and had my father. My father was the youngest deacon in the church up in the first Paradise when he slept with my mother who was a young nun. Then I was born and brought down here as a toddler. It's not that complicated. Why do you think he was so accepting of me to be your new owner? He knew I wouldn't hurt you. How does it feel to be my new grandmother?"

  * * *

  Something is crawling up Doss's arm as he opens his eyes in the darkening air of twilight. He can see the purple sky with streaks of pink sunset between the thick canopy of evergreen trees and oaks. A cold breeze blows around him, sending a flurry of leaves down to the forest floor that land on his face and body.

  Every inch of him hurts with a deep throbbing ache, but when the tiny snowflakes touch h
is skin, he knows that he doesn't have to worry about discomfort of hardship anymore. As the leaves are gradually covered in a thin blanket of snow, Doss resigns to his fate. He was able to make up for his failures after all and it seems that God was pleased. So this is heaven. With this calming acceptance, he closes his eyes and begins to fall asleep again.

  An hour goes by as the sun sets and the flurries turn into a blizzard. Doss groans and sits up, brushing off snow and leaves. He shivers and looks around in the blackness where nothing moves except for the blowing snow and ice. Maybe this isn't heaven. He holds up his arms and winces as the ice falls on the deep gashes where blood has dried. Blood has also soaked through the right leg of his pants and an expansive blackened burn covers the area from his left knee to his hip where the fabric has been burned away. What happened to him? And why is it snowing?

  Doss grabs onto the nearest tree trunk and pulls himself to his feet. The pain shoots through his legs, making him gasp. At least he has his wings. When he spreads his wings, he cries out when he sees the bent and crumpled metal. There's no way he can fly with them all beat up like this. Can they be repaired? They look so bad, but then he notices the worst part: a glinting of metal underneath the snow in what little moonlight is peeking through the clouds. Six of his feathers have broken off and are scattered around under the snow. He lets out a whimper and holds onto the oak tree for support.

  Why is he out here in the woods? The last thing he remembers is flying that space fighter. Oh God. He must have crashed, but he's nowhere near the city. This snow is not helping him remember. He wraps the remnants of his scorched and tattered cape around his arms then stumbles along until he reaches the edge of the trees. The atmosphere and weather simulator must have switched to winter at nightfall. The longer he stays on this planet, the more he questions his sanity.

  On the horizon, he spots the tall metal and glass buildings of civilization where the lights shine in the night as the snow tapers off. There's something else, though. A large fire is blazing so brightly that he can see it from here. That must be where the plane crashed. That means that he was thrown this far? His wings must have helped him soar after he got free from his safety restraints at the last moment.

 

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