by Craig Gaydas
As he stepped to the throne, the red color from the stained glass window fell upon his hair, making it appear as if blood streamed from the top of his skull in scarlet strands. The red tie he wore clashed with his dark-colored suit. His wrinkle free, mortician suit was creepy, to say the least.
“You looked clean and well-groomed, Calypso. Afraid to get your hands dirty in this conflict?” mocked Ibune.
He bellowed laughter and raised his hands in feigned surrender. “Now I stand, the wolf before the sheep…and they do not fear.” He sat upon the throne and ran his hands across the tops of the panther heads. “You are completely surrounded. My forces will soon overwhelm yours, your reinforcements will not be able to break through Caelum's air defenses, and I only have to deal with the two of you and the two you posted outside. I have no reason to get my hands dirty.”
I gripped my gun tighter. “No reason?” I roared. “This entire war is because of you. You are the reason.”
Calypso's smile faded and his expression darkened. “You are quite incorrect. Meta started this entire debacle. I am just cleaning up his mess.”
“You betrayed the Consortium!” I argued.
He shook his head. “No. The Consortium I knew had been betrayed long ago. Meta was destroying it from within. His use of politics created rifts between the various organizations contained within the Consortium, such as the Explorer's League, the Collegiate, the Financiers, the Engineering Conglomerate…everyone! He alienated our allies! Peace between the galaxies was deteriorating.”
“Peace?” I scoffed. “You started a war!”
Calypso ran his fingers through his hair. “Sometimes, you need to start a war in order to have peace.”
“You're insane,” I gasped.
He smiled. It was the smile of a predator, looking down upon his prey. “Why are you here, Nathan?”
“I'm here to stop you,” I explained. “Someone needs to be the good guy in this war.”
Calypso looked down and kicked at a corner of the carpet. “Are you?”
“Am I what?” I asked, puzzled.
He looked up and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped between his legs. His eyes darted between Ibune and me. “Are you so sure you are the good guy?”
I felt my anger rising, but I bit it back before I responded. “Yes, I am. You betrayed an organization you proclaim to be saving, you destroyed my planet, and you murdered innocent people in the process.”
He waved his hand through the air. “Now wait a minute. Meta attacked your planet, not I. The only people I am guilty of murdering attacked me first, I cannot be held responsible for things my people did behind my back. As I explained earlier, I did not betray the Consortium. They betrayed all of us.”
“He's right,” said Ibune. She glided over to the door and threw it open. Several Scarlet Moon soldiers entered, escorting Hiro and Cantrell inside. They were helmetless and their hands were on their head.
“Down on your knees,” one of the soldiers commanded. He was a burly, yellow skinned fellow with an enormous jaw. A single fang protruded from his bottom lip with a matching blank slate of a forehead. His sausage-like fingers were wrapped around the trigger of Cantrell's rifle with the barrel pressed against the back of his head. Reluctantly, they complied with the soldiers orders.
“What the hell is going on?” I approached Ibune, but was stopped by the tip of her blade.
“Come no further,” she commanded. “Drop your weapon.”
The tip was about an inch from my chest, but I could feel the heat radiating from it. I looked into the resigned eyes of Cantrell and tossed my weapon down in disgust.
“Why?” The single word had been laced with such frustration and confusion that it caused Ibune to raise her eyebrows. Calypso, who had been grinning like a kid in a candy store, stood while Ibune sat on the throne.
“I assume you mean to inquire as to why I am doing this?” She switched her blades off and clipped the brass knuckles to her waist. The moon tattoo on her forehead emitted a pale glow, which reflected off of the surface of the feline statues. “Calypso was correct. The Consortium had been faltering for years, finally becoming the corrupt mess The Timeless had feared the most. We have always assumed a neutral role when it came to intergalactic conflicts, preferring to defer to the Consortium to handle any issues. For centuries, the Consortium did all that had been expected of them.”
“Until recently,” Calypso added. “This is why it had to be this way, Nathan.”
“Indeed,” agreed Ibune with a smile. “Long ago, Ales Banda, a Cartographer I understand you are familiar with, made a scientific discovery that would change the way the universe works for centuries to come.”
“Wormholes,” I muttered.
“Exactly!” replied Ibune. “Wormholes were the cause of the destruction of the old universe. We worked tirelessly to make sure we did not have a repeat of the Big Bang.”
“But then Meta's focus changed,” Calypso interjected. “The power of the Consortium consumed him. Wormholes allowed him unfettered access to other planets throughout the universe. The more planets the Explorer's League discovered, the more wormholes he had access to. When the first time hole was discovered, power consumed him.”
“He believed he could change time itself,” Ibune continued. “When Kell took over as the Cartographer, he discovered that time was not linear. What happened in one time line, did not always carry over to another.”
“The multiverse theory is true.” My comment was more of a statement than a question.
Ibune smiled and pointed at me. “You are wise beyond your years. That is why the Explorer's League took great interest in you.”
A rustling sound came from the door and I turned to see Varooq, Hark-Kalech, Noz, and several Defense Fleet soldiers marching through the door. They escorted a chained Embeth, who looked like he went ten rounds with Mike Tyson. His bruised and battered face was smeared with blood and a bullet hole in his right shoulder wept blood. The soldiers tossed him to the ground next to Cantrell.
“This one put up quite a fight,” snarled Hark-Kalech.
Ibune frowned. “Where is Mortem?”
“He got away,” Noz grunted. “I have some of my best trackers following the trail, though. He won't get far.”
I found her concern for Mortem interesting, given the circumstances. “I don't understand any of this. You command The Timeless. You agreed to Mortem's terms and ordered this strike on Caelum. It doesn't make any sense!”
“It makes perfect sense,” she countered. “My plan all along was to gain control of the Consortium. The Timeless would never outwardly agree to that, so the only way to achieve it was through deception.” She gestured toward Calypso. “Calypso here was disgruntled enough to start the process for me.”
“What about The Timeless?” I asked. My thoughts drifted to Grillick and Vanth, two of The Timeless who I was absolutely certain would never agree with Ibune's actions.
Ibune smiled, but there was no humor behind it. “Their time is at an end. I realized that siting back and letting someone else do the work was not a productive way to go about things. Sometimes, one needs to take control of a situation in order to see it is done correctly.”
“Like a tyrant,” coughed Embeth. He spat a bloody wad of phlegm on the ground.
Ibune's face darkened. “Tyrant? I think not. Defender…savior…hero? Perhaps those labels would fit better. What I am doing will stabilize the universe for centuries to come. You of all people should appreciate what I am doing. You come from the old way of thinking, Embeth. You have been around long enough to remember the days of old.”
Embeth emitted a derisive snort. “Yeah, thanks for parading my age around. You are right…I remember the 'good' days. I am surprised an ancient being, such as yourself, who possesses such wisdom, can actually believe your corrupted way of thinking will restore it to its former glory.”
She stood up, her face dark with rage. With a flash of light, both
blades were in her hands. She rushed over to where Embeth knelt and placed them against his throat.
“DO IT!” he roared. “Prove me right. I want your people to see what you really are.”
For a brief moment, I thought she would slice his head off. After a period of silent tension had passed, she lowered the blades, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but the door crashed open before the words had a chance to escape her lips.
The Scarlet Moon soldiers turned toward the commotion, but before they could raise their rifles, an army poured into the room. My heart soared when I saw who led the charge.
Lianne.
She raised her sword and cut down the closest soldier before he even knew what hit him. Behind her, Vayne mowed down two soldiers with precision shots from the two handguns he wielded. They were followed by Arcturus, Vigil, and Vanth. Several of Cantrell's mercenaries rushed in, rifles pointed in every direction and behind them, wielding ancient weapons of forged steel, entered about twenty Hydrophants led by Ajox. Grillick brought up the rear with long, metal cylinders attached to his arms with flickers of flame coming from the tips. Several tubes were attached at the rear and ran to a pack on his back. My mind just couldn't grasp the concept of portable flamethrowers at that particular moment, there was way too much chaos going on.
The battle was over before it truly began. The surviving Scarlet Moon soldiers dropped their weapons and fell to their knees while their unlucky colleagues burned in flames from Grillick's weapon. Ibune, fueled by rage, lifted her blades and moved to strike down Embeth as he tried to get up. Two precise shots from Vigil's wrist-bow knocked them from her hands and sent them skidding across the floor a dozen yards away.
“That will be enough out of you,” snapped Vigil.
Lianne ran to me and embraced me in such a tense hug I was almost positive she would snap my spine in two. “Thank the gods you are okay.”
I looked around the room in disbelief. Cantrell and his mercenaries shackled the wrists of the remaining Scarlet Moon soldiers. When I glanced toward the throne, I noticed Calypso was gone.
“Calypso!” I cried. “We need to go after him!” Lianne's eyes widened and she turned quickly toward our allies.
“I'll go after him,” volunteered Arcturus. He grabbed a few of Cantrell's mercenaries and left the room.
My brain was a scrambled mess as I tried to process everything. “H…how did you get here?”
Lianne offered a wry smile and pointed toward the doorway. “Him.”
Mortem walked through the door, carrying someone over his shoulder. He dropped to one knee and laid the person gently against the far wall. My heart leapt into my throat when I saw it was Sam.
“SAM!” I ran to him, but stumbled a few times because my legs became rubbery. I couldn't lose another friend. Not now…not so close to victory. When I reached him, I was relieved to see he was still alive. He looked at me through bloodshot eyes and his breathing was labored. “What happened?” I asked and grabbed his hand. The strong pulse in his wrist was a good sign he would survive another day. “What the hell did you do?”
He struggled to catch his breath and turned his head slowly, as he labored to look at me. It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn I heard his muscles creak like a rusty hinge when he turned to me. “I…did…the only thing…I could do,” he wheezed. He swallowed hard and composed himself. “Mortem deactivated the remote air defense system, which made it easier for Lianne's forces to break through. I used the wormhole to go back to Xajax. I grabbed Gard and a few of my animal inventions that were left behind in Grillick's lab. I was amazed at the effectiveness of the lion's firepower, but it was really the rocket launchers of the falcons which turned the tide of the battle. Don't worry about me though, it was the multiple voyages through the wormhole that wore me out. I'm getting too freakin' old for this.”
Falcons? Lion? I wanted to send a barrage of questions at him, but judging by his condition, it was better if he rested.
“They are outside guarding the entrance,” Mortem added. He stared at me for a long time, his hollow yellow eyes boring into my soul. After some time had passed, he spoke once again. “You thought I ran away, didn't you?” A smile poked out from underneath his cowl.
“It had crossed my mind.” I had to admit that out of all The Timeless I would have believed capable of betrayal, Mortem would have been at the top and Ibune would have been at the bottom. The irony was so thick I could cut it with a knife.
I turned and approached the throne. I ran my hand across the heads of the golden panthers. The surface was smooth, cool, and dry to the touch, despite the warm, humid air inside the room. The throne itself was wide enough that I could lay sideways in it. Bigger men than I once sat in the chair. I felt drawn to it, as if an unseen force reached out to me. There was power in that chair. Without even realizing it, I sat in the chair and closed my eyes. When I opened them, I noticed everyone in the room staring at me.
I looked at Embeth, who studied me through narrowed eyes. “Oh…I'm sorry,” I apologized. “This chair belongs to you now.” I moved to stand, but he shook his head and held up his hand.
“I'm a soldier, not a politician. I am more comfortable with a rifle in my hand than a pen,” he explained.
My gaze drifted to Lianne, whose sword was currently pointed at the back of Ibune's neck. My eyes pleaded with her for an answer.
“Not me,” she quickly rebuffed. “I would wilt away and die if I couldn't be on a starship.”
Who would take over the Consortium? Ibune had been correct in a way. The universe needed it. The Consortium had to survive this conflict. I looked toward Grillick, who shuffled his feet uncomfortably under my stare. “The Timeless cannot get involved,” he explained. “Ibune went against everything we stand for.”
I looked to Sam for guidance. “What about that relative of Meta? The cousin's uncle's brother or whatever he was. Where is he?”
“Dead,” commented Hark-Kalech from the back of the room. His hands were bound behind his back as he struggled to his knees next to Varooq and Noz. “Consider it a loose end we had to tie up.”
I clenched my fists in anger. “Too much needless death for this pointless war,” I growled. “Why? Violence and anger…the universe is full of it, no matter where I turn.”
“That is why it has to be you,” Vanth approached from the shadows. “As a human, you understand the ramifications of constant war. Your kind was riddled by it. Only you can tip the balance of the universe toward peace.”
“That's ridiculous,” Ibune mocked and thrust a finger in my direction. “He is just a boy. A boy bred from a barbaric society. He doesn't have the mettle to lead the Consortium. You will set the universe back a thousand years.”
Her words angered me, but they were laced with truth. It wasn't long ago that I had been an acne-riddled teenager, whose biggest problem was getting a date for the prom. Now I was expected to lead an intergalactic scientific and defense organization. God must do stand-up comedy in his spare time. I can't do this. I wanted to say the words, but they wouldn't leave my lips.
Vanth spoke, jarring me from my mental wrestling match. “Well?” He leaned against his staff while his eyes bored a hole into my chest. “Are you prepared to accept your destiny?”
I wanted to shout NO from every pore in my body. After a few minutes of wrestling between my heart, my brain, and my soul, I bowed my head. Although it was cool in the room I felt the heat of the overhead lights burning a hole into the back of my head. “Yes,” I finally grunted through clenched teeth.
The word echoed through the halls and reverberated in my ears. Although the word had been uttered softly, the weight of the decision was so great, it would have been no different had it been shouted from the rooftops.
“NO!” rose an objection. For a second, I thought I had said 'no' instead of 'yes', but then I realized the sound came from somewhere else in the room. Before I could turn toward it, I
felt a burning sensation in my lower back, which eventually radiated toward my chest. I looked down at my chest and my eyes widened in disbelief. A blade poked out from the center of my chest (a curved blade to be exact). It was Ibune's sword. I looked at it in disbelief because her two brass knuckles were lying on the floor where Vigil's shots left them. She must have had a third concealed somewhere. I turned to see Ibune's rage-filled face just before she pulled the blade from my back. Her cheeks were scarlet with rage, veins formed tiny blue paths across the sides of her neck, and her moon tattoo glowed so brightly I thought, for a minute, she had a flashlight tied to her forehead. The room started to spin and everyone faded into the background. Lianne screamed, but it sounded like she was in another room. Before I could find her, my face was bathed in a warm sticky substance as the back of Ibune's head exploded in a fountain of blood and bone. The weapon fell to her feet and went dark, as did her tattoo. It was like someone flipped off an internal light switch. She crumpled to my feet and fell silent. I dropped to my knees next to her, but before I could fall any further, I found myself wrapped inside Lianne's arms.
“Stay with me Nathan!” she shouted and placed her hand over the wound in my chest. Blood snaked through her fingers as she applied pressure to the area. Tears fell from her eyes and stained the corners of her cheeks.
Her free hand caressed the corner of my cheek. It was gritty like sandpaper: The hands of a warrior. I lifted my hand (my good one) and covered hers. I smiled and coughed up a mouthful of blood. Strangely, I felt no pain, just a cold numbness.
“I love you, Lianne,” I wheezed. Of course, fate played a cruel trick on me. I waited until I was stabbed through the chest and lay dying before I dug up enough courage to profess my true feelings for her.
She leaned in and kissed me. Her soft lips were a stark contrast to her hands. She smelled faintly like lilac and her lips were like velvet being pressed against mine. When she pulled away, it looked like she had applied lipstick using my blood. She brushed a sweaty piece of hair from my forehead. “Thank you, Nathan.”
“For what?” I rasped.
