by Tripp Ellis
EKO STOOD at the wet bar and kicked back a shot of Alnitakian whiskey. Then he poured another. “Nice place you got here.”
“It belongs to a friend.” Ray was getting frustrated.
“This Alnitakian whiskey is hard to come by.”
“We didn't come halfway across the galaxy to discuss the finer points of whiskey."
“That’s too bad. There is quite a collection here, it seems." Eko surveyed the rows of fine liquor on the shelves.
Ray’s faced tensed.
Eko could see his frustration. “I'm afraid you may have come all this way for nothing.”
“The Great Mother said you would know what to do,” Ava said, her face crinkled with worry.
“I know what to do. I don't know if it can be done."
“Quit speaking in riddles,” Ray demanded. “Get to the point.”
“There are five shards that come together to form the Crystal of Creation. The Empress has the other four. Your stone is the only thing stopping her from reuniting the shards.”
“Aren't they just rocks?" Ray said.
“I think you know by now that they’re not.” Eko’s eyes narrowed at him.
It was hard for Ray to deny it any longer. There was something mystical about the shard. “What is the Crystal of Creation?"
“Before the dawn of time, when Velkor created this universe, he created several higher beings to assist him—the Naazelem. The highest of which was Malenex. Velkor poured his powers into the Crystal of Creation, and bestowed it upon Malenex to finish creating this universe while Velkor went on to establish other universes. But Malenex used the crystal to create a malevolent race of beings that destroyed the Naazelem, leaving him in control of the universe. When Velkor returned, he was understandably displeased. He banished Malenex and shattered the crystal into five shards, leaving each in the care of the Oracles.”
Ray wasn’t buying it. “Okay, lets just say I suspend my disbelief for a moment… What are we supposed to do with this thing?”
“The crystal is neither good, nor evil. In the wrong hands, it could wield unimaginably destructive power.” Eko’s eyes fell on Ava. “That’s why it had been entrusted to the Oracles, the most pure of spirit. Only the most pure of heart can remain unaffected by its powers.” Eko’s eyes fell on Ava. “You, young lady, have been chosen to be the shard’s keeper. You must keep it safe.”
Ava looked conflicted. “I don’t know if I’m really the person for the job. I wasn’t a very good Oracle. I never even took my vows.”
“You’ve made it this far without succumbing to your darker nature. All of you have.”
“Why can’t you be its keeper? You seem much better suited than I.”
Eko chuckled. “Oh, no. I am far from virtuous. I would too easily be corrupted by its power.”
“But aren’t you a guardian, of sorts?” She threw his words back at him.
“There was a time, eons ago, when I fought to protect the Oracles.”
“You’re one of the ancients… a Zeviki Warrior,” Ava said.
“Was,” Eko said. “Now I’m just an old man with aching joints, and fading skill.”
“You seemed pretty good in the alleyway,” Ray said.
“A fraction of my former glory.”
“How old are you?” Ava quickly retracted the statement. “I’m sorry. That was a rude question.”
Eko grinned. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. At last count, I’m 1,763 years old. Give or take. I’ve spent a few years here and there lost in a bottle.”
Ava’s jaw dropped.
“Impossible,” Ray quipped. “Even with enhancements.”
Ava was still staring at Eko in awe. “In return for their service, the Zeviki were gifted with exceptionally long life.”
Ray rolled his eyes again.
“Actually there have been documented cases of extended longevity,” ZV-0 said.
“Can’t we just destroy it and be done with it?” Ray asked.
“There is nothing in this universe that can destroy the crystal,” Eko said.
“So, she’s got to protect it forever?”
“I said there was nothing in this universe that could destroy the shard. But there is something outside of the universe.”
23
The front door splintered into pieces with a thunderous crack. A squad of goons poured into the apartment, weapons in the firing position. Plasma bolts streaked through the air, scarring the walls and filling the apartment with haze. The floor to ceiling windows shattered, spraying shards of glass. It was chaos. The apartment was getting destroyed.
Nero wasn't going to be happy.
Eko drew his pistol in a flash and returned fire as he dashed for cover behind a support pylon.
Ray grabbed Ava and pulled her to safety behind a couch. “Stay down.”
ZV-0 rocketed onto the terrace through what used to be a window, disappearing over the railing. There was no telling where he went, but it seemed like he didn’t want any part of this.
Ray drew his weapon, then popped up and blasted at the goons. Grace huddled beside him. The sounds of the city filtered in through the broken windows.
Eko angled his pistol around the pylon and blasted several bolts, eviscerating one of the goons. They were trying to advance down the foyer. As soon as one fell, it seemed another took its place. Eko ducked behind the pylon as several bolts whizzed toward his face. He narrowly avoided the searing bolts, but he could feel the heat as they passed.
Ray popped up, fired a few shots, then ducked back down. Grace did the same thing. They repeated this process over and over again. These weren't Imperial Soturi. They had to be more of Dietrich's thugs. Imperial Soturi would have stormed in wearing full battle armor, popped several canisters of VX-40 nerve gas, and taken the shard. They would have attacked from two angles as well. A squad would have rappelled onto the terrace from an IDX-60 dropship.
Ray was thankful these weren’t Soturi, but they weren’t going to be able to hold the goons off forever.
A delivery van appeared hovering by the terrace. ZV-0 had stolen it. It was highly illegal to operate a hovercraft this high above the roadway, but that was the least of anyone's concerns. ZV-0 pressed a button on the dash, and the side door slid open.
Ray grinned as he saw the escape vehicle. “I’ll put down some suppressive fire,” Ray said to Grace. “Make a run for it.”
Grace nodded. She grabbed Ava’s arm and sprinted toward the terrace as Ray popped up and blasted at the goons. Eko was still holding his own, firing from behind the pylon.
Ava was first onto the terrace with Grace following right behind her, trying to shield her. Grace slung her weapon back and fired awkwardly as she ran. Plasma bolts zinged past the two of them—impacting the tile at their feet, whizzing past their ears, pelting the sides of the van.
Grace and Ava leapt over the railing, into the cargo area of the van.
“Eko, fall back!” Ray shouted.
“Right behind you."
The apartment was thick with smoke. Some of the plasma hits had ignited, and the air was milky.
Ray dashed for the terrace, broken glass crunching under his boots. His heart was pounding. He ran as fast as he could. He blazed across the terrace in a few strides and dove into the van. He spun around to see Eko sprint onto the terrace. But he only made it a few steps before a plasma bolt to the back took him down. His body crumpled amid the shards of broken glass.
Ava shrieked.
Ray lunged from the van, onto the terrace, firing incessantly into the milky haze of the apartment. Grace put down a stream of plasma pulses to cover him.
Ray reached Eko’s limp body and dragged him back to the van. He heaved Eko over the railing, and Ava helped pull him into the van. Ray climbed in as the goons advanced to the terrace.
ZV-0 sped away, plunging the van down toward street level. Plasma bolts shattered the rear windows. The sides of the van were riddled with holes.
Ray tried to provide
aid to Eko, but there wasn't much he could do. The plasma hit had incinerated a large part of his lung, liver, and the right ventricle of his heart. His spine was severed. There wasn't much bleeding since the intense heat cauterized the wound.
“Ain’t that just bad luck,” Eko choked out.
“Where do we take the shard? How do we destroy it?"
Eko struggled to say something, but he was gone before he could mouth the words. His jaw went slack and his eyes fixed on the ceiling of the van. The color drained from his face and lips.
Ray grimaced.
“I think we’ve got company,” ZV-0 said, glancing in the rearview mirror.
A car was weaving in and out of traffic, trying to catch up with the van. Soon, a thug was hanging out the window, blasting away.
Plasma pulses streaked past the vehicle. One blasted through the open back window and raced through the van, piercing the front window.
Ray and the others ducked for cover. “Lose them!”
“I’m trying,” ZV-0 shouted.
The robot had managed to break the encryption and was able to wirelessly access functions such as acceleration and braking. He should have been more technically proficient than a human driver, but with all the enhancements he had done to his neural processors, he was less than perfect. Still, he was navigating the vehicle with precision, darting in and out of traffic, and elevations, with pinpoint accuracy.
ZV-0 took a left on Charleston, cutting across five lanes of traffic. Then a quick right on Preston, and another left on Polk.
The chase car was still hanging in there.
ZV-0 took another right, then ducked the van into an alley, hoping to get out of view before the thugs in the black Lexa sedan chasing them rounded the corner. But there was a problem with the alleyway. Ahead, it narrowed to an impassable sliver. There was an offset from where one building ended and the new building began, slimming the alley to only a few feet. No amount of fancy maneuvering was going to allow the van to squeeze through.
24
ZV-0 throttled up the vertical thrusters. The van skyrocketed like an express elevator. The ground became a distant memory.
10 floors…
20 floors…
30 floors…
The black Lexa turned into the alleyway below. Then they gave chase vertically.
The shortest building comprising the alley was 50 stories tall. ZV-0 barreled the van over the rooftop, hovering over HVAC units and dodging exhaust vents.
The Lexa crested the roof, chasing after them.
Ray slung his weapon out of the broken rear window and took aim. He tried to steady himself. He fired off several rounds, trying to take out the driver of the Lexa.
The van crested the edge of the roof and plummeted down to street level. ZV-0 reentered the flow of traffic. However, his antics had drawn the attention of a police officer. Sirens blared and lights flashed.
The Lexa backed off at the sight.
“Don’t you dare pull over,” Ray yelled. “We've got a dead body in a stolen van, several unregistered weapons, and your driver’s license is suspended."
“What should I do?” ZV-0 asked.
“Drive faster.”
ZV-0 accelerated, weaving through traffic.
It wasn’t long before another patrol car joined the chase. At least the cops weren’t shooting at them.
ZV-0 made a series of quick turns and tried his luck in an alleyway again, this time making it through to Franklin Street. He took a right, then streaked across five lanes, making a left on 7th Avenue. There were three cops in pursuit now, and more were coming.
ZV-0 was ascending to the top lane of traffic when the thrusters cut out and the controls went dead. The van plummeted toward the roadway, smacking into the concrete, tumbling end over end.
The occupants were slammed in all directions. The packages in the cargo area became projectiles. Metal twisted and crumpled. The windows that were left in the vehicle shattered. Sparks flew as metal screeched across the concrete. The twisted carcass finally squealed to a halt in the middle of the roadway.
Ray could hear the sirens draw closer as the patrol cars surrounded the wreckage. His head was pounding, and his lower back ached. He grimaced with pain as he tried to sit up. He glanced around the disheveled delivery van. "Is everyone okay?”
There were mumbles and groans all around. Minor abrasions and bruises. Tousled hair and headaches. But nobody seemed critically wounded. ZV-0 had some minor scuffs on his outer shell.
“What happened?" Ava asked.
“My guess is that they ran the license plate, searched the database, then remotely killed the engine,” ZV-0 said.
Ray could hear boots against concrete as the cops surrounded the van. Assault rifles poked in through the broken windows.
A gruff voice yelled, "Come out slowly with your hands in the air.”
The side door to the van was stuck. Ray crawled to the back and kicked open the rear doors—they squealed and flopped open with a clank. Ray eased out of the vehicle and was quickly thrown to the concrete. A heavy boot planted in the middle of his back, making it hard to breathe. His cheek pressed against the hot roadway as an officer slapped cuffs around his wrist, then wrenched his arm behind his back and cuffed the other wrist. He was fully expecting to get a few boots to the ribs, but surprisingly they didn't kick the shit out of him. Not yet, anyway.
RAY SAT in a small interrogation room, his hands still cuffed behind his back. The room was bleak. Dingy gray walls, a single overhead light, and a table at the center of the room. There was a two way mirror, and the entire session was being recorded from multiple angles. Software interpolation would create a 3D replication of it for future analysis, if need be. Voice stress analyzers and behavioral analysis software monitored the video feed in real time. The software could detect false statements with 99.978% accuracy. All of it could be used in a court of law. But Ray wasn't going to make it to trial. It was only a matter of time before Imperial Soturi showed up.
They left Ray alone in the room for what seemed like hours. He knew it was all part of the interrogation tactic. Isolate him, starve him, then come in and act like his best friend. Offer to get him a cheeseburger and a soda, or some coffee. Just have a little chat, like old friends.
A pudgy round faced detective wearing a tweed sport coat entered the room. “Detective O’Malley. Can I get you anything?”
“No.”
“You sure? Water? Soda? A cigarette?”
“I don’t smoke.”
"Might be the only chance you get for a long time. Once I'm done with you, they'll take you down to processing, could be up to 48 hours before you get a meal or glass of water."
"No thanks."
O’Malley sighed. “Suit yourself.”
There was a long silence as the two men stared at each other.
“Maybe you can help me out with something. You want to tell me why your biometrics match up with five other individuals?”
Ray shrugged.
“Either you’re a clone, or you know someone who is damn good at forging identification.”
“It’s a big galaxy. A lot of people look the same. It's easy to get confused. You know, one time I dated this girl—she and her sister looked exactly alike. It was an honest mistake—“
“Can it, scumbag!” O'Malley's eyes narrowed at him. "I want answers, and I want them now. You're in a stolen van, driven by a robot on a suspended license, with the body of a man who was born over a thousand years ago, and a young girl that I can't find any records on.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
“We were just trying to be good Samaritans…”
O’Malley raised a skeptical eyebrow.
“See, the dead guy in our van got shot… He was dying on the sidewalk. He needed medical attention. So, we took the nearest vehicle and were racing to the hospital when your boys started chasing us. That man would be alive right now if it weren't for this mindless inte
rference.” Ray said with righteous indignation.
O'Malley's face tensed. "Okay smart ass. I'm inclined to turn those cameras off and beat the answers out of you.”
“You’d be wasting your time.”
O’Malley craned his neck back toward the two way mirror and motioned to someone on the other side to cut the video feed. “Okay, scumbag. You don't want to play ball with me? Fine. The Imperial Realm is sending a squad of Soturi to pick you up right now. For some reason, they believe you fall under their jurisdiction—enemies of the state. Trust me, you'd rather deal with me then them."
“I have no love for the Realm.”
“Then tell me what this is." O'Malley pulled the shard out of his pocket and slammed it on the table.
Ray's eyes widened at the glowing crystal. “That belongs to the girl. She's got nothing to do with this. Why don’t you just let her go?”
“See, that’s what strikes me as odd. The Realm commander specifically instructed me to hang onto the girl and the crystal and turn them both over to him when he arrives. Now this is my town, and my jurisdiction, and I don't like those galactic jerkoffs telling me what to do.” He leaned back and folded his arms, his eyes piercing into Ray. “Tell me what's so special about that rock."
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” Ray said.
“You've got about 20 minutes before the Soturi arrive.” O'Malley paused. “One of the five profiles that came up for you was Ray Dakota. Sound familiar?”
Ray shrugged.
"Interesting guy.” O'Malley looked over his PDU and read from the dossier on Ray. “Joined the Imperial Navy at 18, applied to Special Operations Galactic Command, graduated top of the class at Spec Ops Combat Training, served two years in the elite Navy Raiders, received the Galactic Realm’s Medal of Valor, then goes AWOL and fights for the resistance.”
“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”
“Something tells me you really don't want to fall into the hands of the Realm. It won't go well for you."
Ray shrugged.
O'Malley looked into Ray's eyes. He had sat across the table from thousands of men in Ray’s position, and he knew how to see past someone's bullshit. He eyed the tattoo on the back of Ray's hand. “I'll bet you've got a spec-war tattoo somewhere on that arm. Am I right?”
