EARTH'S LAST WAR (CHILDREN OF DESTINY Book 1)

by Glenn Van Dyke

  “Does he still have a fleet of vessels?”

  “Smaller vessels, yes. Many transports, but none that are capable of jumping out-system.”

  “Very good. Keeper, while he is away, there’s something that I have to do. I need to leave for a short time.”

  “Do not worry—Ashlyn will be fine until you return. But take care not to be gone long for there are limitations to my abilities that only you can fulfill.”

  “Keeper, before I leave there’s something that I’ve been wanting to ask you. Now that we know the second Gift is the ability to shape-shift, I don’t understand why you couldn’t have told us about it, maybe even guided us on how to use it?”

  “The Anunnaki children spend the first years of their life training and learning the disciplines of how to use it. They know that it must be allowed to grow to maturity, naturally.

  If under duress you had sought out the Gift, calling upon it prematurely, it might have killed you. You might have changed into a form that could not survive—or was not complete. It was for your own protection that I did not tell you.”

  “Thank you. I understand.”

  Outside the Keeper’s wall, Steven again changed into the dragon and flew off to the city, landing in the square. When the people saw him, they scurried away in fear, hiding in the shadows. Only as he transformed into himself did they begin to humbly bow down, chanting his name, “Enki!”

  He’d started something that he didn’t know how to finish.

  Strangely, the guards were completely absent.

  Steven ran up the ramp into the Palace to find its doors ajar. Slipping inside, he entered the massive room. He stood atop a long staircase lined with small torches, staring down into the heart of the pyramid.

  The centerpiece was a large, round fire-pit in the center of the room. An ornately carved dome of stone, with cutout figures and shapes, capped it. The dancing backlight of the fire within the pit brought the shapes to life, reflecting dazzling imagery on the interior walls that told a story. In one such scene, a giant Uttu loomed large on the wall—while at his feet, an Anunnaki was standing, sword in hand, ready to do battle with it. The flickering light created a dreamlike motion, pitting them against one another in a never-ending battle.

  In another, fiery horses raced, pulling a colorful and well-detailed charioteer, whip in hand, as he lashed his horses. Each depiction was a monument of delicate ambiance and majestic romanticism.

  At the far end of the room, perhaps two hundred meters away, sat a massive golden throne of stone that was back dropped by deep red, floor to ceiling drapes.

  He had to admit, Enlil had a style of elegance that was unparalleled.

  From Steven’s high vantage point, he saw no doors, no exits, and yet, he knew there must be one.

  Having removed one of the torches, he headed down into the massive chamber. He took a wide berth around the fire-pit, for its radiating heat was intense.

  Standing before the throne, he studied the flame of his torch, watching it bend and flutter to a faint breeze. It led him to a well-concealed tunnel that might easily have escaped notice, if not for the flame.

  Behind the throne, he found a small thermal scanner hidden in the wall that with a mere wave of his closed a secret doorway in the base of the throne. Waving his hand again, the tunnel reopened. Enlil must have been in a hurry. As he entered, it lit dimly, revealing a long descending ramp.

  With each step he took, Steven’s heart sped. Though he had no expectation of finding Phillip alive, he couldn’t extinguish the pilot light of hope. If nothing else, he wanted closure.

  As the ramp came to an end, ahead of him were hundreds of barred, cells. It was a prison. Each cell held two to four captives. The people inside were dirty, sickly, starving. Their hair and teeth had fallen out from lack of proper nutrition, sunlight, exercise. Many had been beaten almost beyond human recognition. They were the living dead.

  As he passed, people called out to him for help; they plead to be released. They burst out crying. Though they couldn’t understand him, he touched their outstretched hands, assuring them he would be back.

  It wasn’t long before Steven realized the full scope of what was before him. The cells were but one small part of a massive underground bastion.

  Never before had Steven seen such a sorrowful sight.

  Fully realizing that it was far too large to search alone, he decided to try a different tactic. Minutes later, calling from cell to cell, he finally found an elderly man who spoke English; his instructions led him to the prison’s control room.

  With the push of a single button, he unlocked every cell simultaneously, swinging their doors open. The able-bodied were the first to leave their cells as they cautiously began to exit. As Steven walked, calling out Phillip’s name, he told those he passed to get out, to escape.

  Steven passed a weapons room. It held both ancient weapons and modern, swords and rifles. It had torture devices that looked like something out of medieval times and armor that looked shiny and new. He took note of an ornamental Anunnaki statue adorning the center of the room.

  But his search was for Phillip and he quickly passed the room by. His breath abated as he came to Enlil’s torture area.

  Grizzly machines alluded to centuries of untold horrors. A cold chill raced through him, and he forced himself to put the images they conjured up, out of his mind. The smells were strong, the ground red with layers of blood. There was a surgical table with a large machine hovering above it in the air. Steven believed it to be the table on which they had castrated Phillip.

  The next chamber was large research facility. Much of the room held large vats of bubbling, blue liquid. They were incubators.

  Steven swallowed. His heart lurched. He stepped up and around the nearest, until he was facing the creature it held inside.

  It was Ashlyn. In shock, he took a step back, his eyes moving from vat to vat. Each held a female, all of them looking exactly like Ashlyn. They were fully-grown, close to being released. His blood turned cold, even as his mind raced for answers.

  Enlil created the males first. We were simpler, less complicated. He remembered Victor’s enthusiastic discussion about Ashlyn. Even he had said that compared to Ashlyn’s anatomy, he was boring. The females are more complex—the reproductive system alone makes them harder to recreate. Makes sense. Create the males first, and then focus on the females.

  Tynabo didn’t give us our cravings—that’s part of the Anunnaki physiology. All Tynabo did was keep a copy of the genetic materials they were giving to Enlil, so they could build their own Anunnaki. Ashlyn and I.

  But—Enlil was surprised by Ashlyn’s ability to read minds. And he didn’t understand how I was able to throw the energy orbs—so some of our abilities are not Anunnaki. That part was from Tynabo! It all seems so clear.

  Looking at the vats around him, Enlil was so close to seeing his plan realized. He had exhausted all the resources here. He was going to move everything from here to Earth, utilize its resources, facilities, and continue his plan.

  As anxious as he was to find Phillip, he took the time to find the controls. His finger hovered over the terminate button, sad that he was about to kill all of them. Anunnaki or not, they were women that looked like Ashlyn.

  He had to remind himself that they weren’t Ashlyn. That they were bred to be loyal to Enlil. They had never held any love for humanity and they would be loyal to their creator. He couldn’t allow them to reinforce Enlil’s army.

  Steven hit the button.

  They all began to awaken as the oxygen tubes feeding them abruptly stopped. They all turned, looking at him. They pounded against the glass, drowning.

  Steven wasn’t sure what he had expected to happen—but seeing the horror of their death twisted his stomach. He felt intensely sorry for them. He turned, not wanting to see their pain.

  Continuing on his search for Phillip, he went deeper into the complex. It was near two more hours before he discovered Enlil’s l
iving quarters. It was massively large and as lavish as he’d expected. His eyes fell upon a large stone bowl, perhaps six meters across in what would have been Enlil’s living room. Steven had to stand on his tiptoes to get a look over the rim, to see what was inside. His eyes went wide with terror and he screamed out in anguish. Though his stomach churned, he forced himself to look at the dismembered, half-eaten skeletal frame of a castrated male child that lay at the bottom of the bowl. It was a child Phillip’s size, with dark blonde hair like Phillip’s. Steven screamed as he thought of Phillip’s innocent face. “Forgive me, Renee. Please, forgive me, for not having brought him home to you!”

  Inundated by his emotional pain, Steven slid to the ground, sobbing. He lay there, not knowing how to cope. He seethed with hatred. He pictured the look on Renee’s face, imagining the day when he had to tell her what happened. The loss was more than his grief stricken soul could bear and his mind sought relief in the depths of sleep.

  When he awoke, though his heart was heavy with grief, he set off to find, Christie. As Steven turned back, throwing a last glance at the bowl, his anger raged. He turned into the dragon and incinerated everything.

  Upstairs, back in his human form, Steven wandered through the throngs of people that were thinking of him as God, each wanting to touch him, each calling him, Enki. After having seen Phillip, the last thing Steven felt like was a god.

  Steven went back to the original barracks where he had first met, Christie. Inside, a dozen humans were sitting on the floor, quietly conversing. “Christie,” said Steven putting his hand out at waist level. “Christie?”

  A young man responded, “Christie! Christie!” His head bobbed, smiling. His arms waving, motioning for Steven to follow. Outside, the man led him to yet another building. Inside, the man rolled aside a large wooden barrel in the far corner of the room. Under the barrel, he pulled out several floorboards, revealing a narrow stairwell.

  With a wide smile, the man urged Steven to follow him. Eventually, the narrow tunnel led them to a bluff that overlooked a small underground city. Word spread fast and by the time Steven reached the center proper, he was surrounded by hundreds of curious on-lookers, both human and even a few Neanderthal. His guide, after motioning for Steven to sit and wait, darted off into the crowd. People crowded round him, reaching out to touch him, smiling afterwards for having been so privileged.

  The city was primitive and reminded Steven of the pirate city, Tortuga, that he had seen depicted in the old movies. He admired the people, for even under the watchful scrutiny of Enlil; they had managed to hew a city out of little more than mud and stone.

  From somewhere up ahead, Steven heard the voice of his guide, telling the people to move. Steven stood. A moment later, his guide appeared and with a wide smile, presented Christie to him.

  Dropping to one knee, Steven put his arms out to her.

  The crowd was silent, sentimental.

  Christie ran to him burying her face in his chest. They hugged tightly, letting their tears speak for them. Her embrace reminded him that he would never hold Phillip like this, again.

  Finally, when he had gathered himself, “Christie? Ashlyn and I would like very much to have a little girl of our own. We’ve been hoping that you might come live with us. Do you think you would like that?”

  Christie’s big eyes filled with tears as she nodded, yes.

  They hugged each other tightly. It was if nothing else in the world existed.

  A man approached. He had been patiently waiting, not wanting to interrupt. “Sir, my name is Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.”

  “Is that you’re given name?”

  “No, I was a geologist back on Earth. He was my favorite poet and since I’m familiar with all his works, well—it was sort of natural. Many of the people here like to hear his works. My given name though, is Erich Guerling.”

  “Erich? From the moon? From Hoagland Cen-Comm?”

  “Yes—do I know you?”

  “Steven Sherrah. Admiral Sherrah. We-”

  Steven never got to finish as Erich grabbed him and hugged him tightly. Tears streamed down his face. “My friend, I have thought of you often. I wondered if you were still alive. Do you have word of Earth? Did anyone survive?”

  “A few—six thousand of us. We destroyed Enlil’s fleet a few months ago as well as his three destroyers when we arrived here. Earth is safe, for now—he doesn’t have any ships left.

  “Do you remember the promise you made me?” said Erich. “You gave me your word that you would avenge us!”

  Before Steven could reply, Erich added, “I’d say, you’re off to a good start.”

  “Thank you, Erich. Is there anything you know that might help me defeat Enlil?”

  “If he has weaknesses—they are unknown. He is very powerful. We have all heard about how he was hurt—a knife in the eye. That was the first weakness that anyone has ever seen.”

  “Erich, where are all the guards? They’re gone.”

  “They were killed, most of them anyway. When you were fighting with Enlil, the people rose-up, following Enki’s instructions. Many of our people were killed, but our numbers were great and we overcame the Igigi and his Elite Guards. When Enlil returned, he was angry as never before. He killed most everyone in the city above. After he left, we took them outside the city.”

  “Why had they not always lived here, in safety?”

  “If we were all to disappear, they would search for us, and find us. So long ago, the people here compromised, sending the old and weak to the city above. Those who are healthy and young, stay here—and in other underground cities around the planet, to live.

  Their sacrifice ensures that we survive.

  May I ask, Admiral—are you also Enki? You fit the description of the man who is said to have fought Enlil.”

  Steven nodded.

  “Everyone thinks Enki is a god. They say you have his ability to shift form?”

  “Yes—that is a lonnng story.”

  “And the woman who threw the knife? She is with you?”

  “Yes. She’s fighting for her life right now, but I am hopeful.

  Erich, how did you survive—you were out of air?”

  “I was, but their ship got to me, bringing me aboard, before I was dead. After the carriers dropped the Uttu on Earth, they left orbit, bringing me here. The first weeks were the worst, but after they realized how little I knew, they turned me out to work.

  The people brought me below. I’ve been here ever since.

  I have a wife and two sons.”

  Erich looked round, his eyes meeting those of the people around him, “The people here believe you are the promised Messiah. You are aware of the prophecy?”

  “Prophecy? No.”

  Erich smiled. “For thousands of years, it has been prophesied that a man named Enki would come. It is said that he is a man born from the ocean, but commands the stars. That he was once mortal, but is now bestowed with eternal life—wielding the power of the gods.”

  Steven swallowed. The last thing he wanted to be was a fulfiller of prophecy, even if all the words did find meaning in him. “And what does it say happens to this Messiah?”

  “That he will travel to Hadaesia to do battle with the serpent—and that in the end he must sacrifice himself if his people are to live.”

  “I think that story has already been told.”

  “It’s true, it is similar to our biblical version, but—the version which I have told you is the original version. It has not been convoluted as Earth’s version was.”

  “I’m not a religious man, Erich. You have the wrong guy.”

  “I don’t think so. The prophecy is not religious. Not here on Hades. It is merely the telling of a vision, written down by the Anunnaki long ago. It was Earth that formed religions based upon the tale. Not these people. We are not divided here by differing beliefs, nor are these people looking for selfish personal gain as our leaders and so-called men of faith on Earth were.

 
; The story has been handed down generation after generation, not one of them daring to change a single word.”

  Erich’s words spoke volumes. His saying that the prophecy had been a vision was very telling. And though Steven wasn’t ready to accept it as gospel, he capitulated to the will of the people. “So be it. If it’s a Messiah they want—they have it!”

  Erich turned round to the crowd, and raising his arms into the air, shouted, “Enki, ta messiah dath commen!”

  The crowd cheered wildly, throwing their arms into the air, dancing round in circles.

  Shrugging his shoulders, Erich said, “The people are yours to command.”

  Steven nodded. “The Serpent will be returning with a large army, you must instruct all who haven’t, to vacate the city above. Whomever Enki finds up there, he’ll kill. I’ll leave the where do I put everyone, in your hands.

  I’ll take care of Enlil. He’s mine!

  Erich, I have one other question for you. Why have the children, like Christie, not always been down here and kept safe? Why was she up above where Enlil could kill her?”

  Erich exhaled a long breath. “Enlil takes-”

  “You mean kills!” said Steven, cutting him off.

  “Yes, Enlil kills—one child each seven days. It is his requirement. If we refuse, then he takes one hundred adults instead as punishment. I didn’t like it when I was brought here either. I never will, but it has been the way these people have survived for millennia. It’s similar to many ancient Earth civilizations, the Mayans, Aztecs and Incas.”

  Kukulcan, Quetzalcoatl—feathered serpent, thought Steven. It was probably Enlil then, too. It all fits.

  “They have turned it into an honor, a heritage of sacrifice in exchange for life. As for Christie, Enlil had long ago taken notice of her. She was pretty, healthy, female. If we had tried to hide her, he would have noticed. It was too late to bring her below.

  Admiral, I don’t mean to defend the way they do things here—but it’s hard to hold to an ideal when you have someone as viciously ruthless as Enlil watching your every move.”