Dane mounted the dorker, checked the holographic image of the city courtesy of an upload ordered by Omalius and he was ready. The mission – all systems go.
It was the fashion with which the craft headed towards the square, the speed noticeably aggressive. The Larquiston sky was filled with craft, all busying away back and forth across the capital. Some were returning from the floating cities and some were enjoying the scenery, but this craft looked different, hauntingly familiar.
Dane glanced up, his military instincts kicked in; he knew an aggressive manoeuvre when he saw it. There was something about the craft – he had seen it before somewhere.
‘Omalius, do you have security monitoring hostile craft entering Larquiston?’ asked Dane, now fully utilising the translator.
‘I believe the munika offer adequate protection. Why?’ asked Omalius.
‘Because that craft heading towards the square is hostile,’ replied Dane. The crowd that was gathering sensed the threat and began receding like an outward tide.
The craft silently meandered in and out of the aerial traffic, weaving and dodging collisions with expert military precision. Dane played the hologram, picking up the incoming craft on a visual. The hieroglyphics worked overtime to identify the approaching aggressor.
‘It’s a military drone carrying cargo of some kind,’ reported Dane. ‘I suggest you evacuate the square.’ Omalius sprang into action. The munika ushered the crowd away. Dane withdrew a weapon from the military suit, his warriors copied and nothing was said – this was all instinctive. The munika followed Dane’s lead. An army of both Zaagan security and Undarthian warriors, headed by the impressive Dane Vhastek, gazed up at the skies, ready, waiting.
‘It’s an unknown source,’ said Dane, ‘that can only mean one thing. Qudor Volkan is behind this.’ His blood boiled; ‘How the hell did Qudor Volkan know he was in Larquiston?’
The drone approached and Dane recognised it immediately, the same type of drone that had ambushed him at CERN. The cargo was attached to the underside of the craft. The machine slowed and the cargo came into full view, hovering over the square. Dane made a gesture to his warriors not to fire. The munika followed suit, almost as if the respect for Dane Vhastek trumped that of their own commander.
The cargo was released and in a few seconds the drone had fled – mission complete as far as the drone was concerned. The cargo floated down towards the square, swaying from side to side as it fell. A white tarpaulin-type canopy ensured it steadily descended. The crowd silent, still, watched as the canopy meandered, floating like a bird gliding in to land. The writing in blood was Undarthian. The charred body of the victim being delivered was ominous.
A thud and the cargo landed with the canopy shrouding the charred remains.
The munika surrounded the victim, the writing on top of the shroud now clear for all to view. Dane walked over to the package draped in white and, as he approached, the words became clearer. He could make out ‘Not so pretty’ and his heart sank. The crowd inched forward to get a closer look, the munika keeping them at bay.
Dane stood over the white sheet, the words in blood now confirming the worst, read:
‘Your beloved Annaluce. Not so pretty now. Qudor Volkan’.
Dane let out an almighty scream and fell to his knees with his head in his hands. One of the munika lifted the canopy gingerly, raising it just enough for a sneak view of the victim lying beneath. The body was badly charred, the head decapitated, the victim’s stomach ripped out. Elizan came running over with the realisation that the victim was her older sister. She flung her arms around Dane, wailing uncontrollably. Dane hugged her beloved’s younger sister, the grief shared.
‘She was pregnant,’ said Dane, his tears now turning to anger. ‘He’s a monster. He must have set his Drayzaks loose before burning the body.’
Elizan could smell Dane; she could feel his extraordinary strength, yet she was in awe of his compassion. She didn’t want to let go of the embrace. As the shock of the sight of the charred remains of her sister subsided, Elizan could see an opportunity.
‘Promise me you will return from your journey over the wall. Whether a deal is struck or not with the squalors, promise me you will return!’ insisted Elizan.
Dane pulled back looking her straight in the eyes, his now puffy with the flood of tears. In an uncanny way she was beautiful, just like her sister – he held her stare. Ironically, in the most unlikely of circumstances, a connection had been made. Not a word was uttered but the nod was enough of a promise of his return.
The munika surrounded the remains; the canopy used as a death shroud. Covering what remained of Annaluce was hoisted over the shoulder of a munika security officer as he walked through the main square, accompanied by the squadron of guards. The crowd parted like the red sea as the guards paraded the body back towards the main hall.
Dane walked briskly to the dorker, his warrior instincts kicking in. He was ready for the task ahead, to secure a deal with the squalors before returning to the city behind the wall.
Omalius took over from Dane; Elizan now hugged her trusted advisor, both emotional but more so Omalius, on this occasion. What to say in such dramatic circumstances? Omalius could only use all his diplomatic skills.
‘We will give your sister a state burial to honour her in the highest traditions of this great city,’ announced Omalius in a fashion both dutiful and heartfelt.
‘I want to see the head of this Qudor Volkan,’ said Elizan. ‘Dane Vhastek will deliver me his head,’ she said in a defiant manner.
‘I do not doubt it,’ replied Omalius, ‘for the moment we must prepare. You need to be strong for the citizens of Larquiston – you must be strong.’
Elizan stood proudly, wiped the tears from her face and linked her arm with Omalius. ‘Then let us waste no time,’ she said defiantly.
‘Indeed, let us waste no time,’ agreed Omalius.
CHAPTER 16
THE COUNCIL OF THE LIGHT
Samuel awoke. He hadn’t slept well. In less than one hour Dr Laderman, Maxius and others would be at the Time Capsule Centre expecting to see Senator Lace Adams. It was vital Samuel attended if the Council of the Light were to be convinced that all was not a complete catastrophe.
Samuel wasn’t a believer in an omnipotent benefactor. The new religion in 2218 was the belief in the self, that we are all one; we are all god. Religion as it was, the era in which Robert Stave had returned, had been abandoned with the realisation that life existed on other planets – far superior life. The aliens had brought a new understanding about the possibilities within our universe. Humans adopted a new religion called ‘The New Awakening’.
Samuel cast aside the new form of religious fanatics emanating from the confirmation that ‘we are not alone’. On this occasion, he reverted to the place we all visit in times of desperation − the need to pray. Samuel prayed. He prayed that both Senator Adams and Klade would be at the Time Capsule Centre in an hour’s time. There was a grave lingering doubt, which Samuel knew would be confirmed or discarded shortly.
The self-drive DeLorean-type vehicle awaited. Samuel watched as the doors lifted at either side as he approached the vehicle, his retina scanned from a distance. Samuel sat in the rear, the harnesses automatically engaged as the on-board computer welcomed the passenger.
‘Where would you like to go, Samuel?’ asked the computer.
‘The Time Capsule Centre, please,’ replied Samuel, who still found it odd that he was courteous to a computer – even though robots in 2218 were as sophisticated as humans in many ways, it still seemed odd.
‘Would you like some music to relax you, this morning?’
‘I’m not sure – maybe. Would you care to recommend something?’
‘I sense you are anxious this morning,’ the computer observed, relying on the on-board mood analyser. ‘Your normal Rachmaninoff might be a good idea, but I know you like retro-style music too, so may I recommend ‘Nuvole Bianche’ by Ludovico Einaudi?�
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‘Perfect,’ replied Samuel. The soothing piano genius of Einaudi was just the tonic as he contemplated the immediate future.
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The Council of the Light had become embroiled in Earth’s predicament. As a galactic force the council had authority, the capability to evict any advanced civilisation that flaunted propagation rights. The rules were strict: Any obvious violation or to masquerade as a lead propagator results in immediate expulsion from the said planet by the council. The problem was finding those who disobeyed the council or by disproving those who made a valid claim.
The Council of the Light evolved. As the Universe began to sprout life organically, the cosmos developed into a vessel housing primitive life forms. Life erupted across the vast expanse of space; each galaxy developed a particular strand of life, which became the dominant force. The Milky Way had evolved into a chartered territory occupied by a predominant life form we understand as humanoid. These primitive beings evolved initially to a Kardashev Scale of I – a method to measure the intelligence of a species originally proposed by Russian astrophysicist Nikolai Kardashev, which based intelligence of a species on a level from Type I to Type V.
Earth humans currently at 0 are some way short of level I.
The Milky Way witnessed many humanoid civilisations perish; annihilating themselves before level I had been achieved. Millions of life forms faded, each believing a special privileged position within the Universe, each determined to rule through conflict and war. One or two isolated civilisations survived this natural urge to prematurely end its own survival and reached level I; their exploration of our galaxy confirmed its fate – a fate that would see the extinction of life – a plan was put forward to save the Universe itself. A theory, devised by these more intelligent life forms, suggested that the very existence of our Universe was based on observation alone, the message simple – if there are no life forms to observe the Universe, the cosmos will become a form of non-existence.
As civilisations within the galaxy reached level I and evolved to a level II and beyond, portal travel and the harnessing of the energy of stars led to an exploration to find other similar intelligence. A pact was reached with those of a level of intelligence who could police the existence of the humanoid form of life, creating an understanding; their goal – to protect and preserve the galaxy.
Portal travel established a hierarchy and a method of travelling the cosmos in real time, eradicating the principle of differing time zones emanating from a slow transportation method, adopted by the less intelligent species – humans fell into this category. Portal travel ensured an instant transfer to planets thousands of light-years apart. The scene was set, the Council of the Light was born – 3 million years ago in Earth time.
The endeavour simple – save the Universe, propagate and assist the evolution of other intelligent life forms who would continue to observe, thus the salvation of our galaxy would be assured.
In 2218, Earth time, the Council of the Light had a problem. The Earth beings had been compromised, the council had seen claims from those who wished to adopt their right to rule the planet, each with a plausible claim. Humans had insisted that their rights had been compromised by trying to gain evidence from inside the force field, at the incident on Earth on 15th February 2018, to prove a sinister plan to eradicate our species and obtain control by default.
The wars had been long; the zonal territories now adopted by several species compromising the planet.
Three members of the Council of the Light arrived via portal travel to the New Manhattan area. As super intelligent beings, their authority was respected at the highest level by all alien species. To defy a Security Council member any of the rights and privileges expected, would have dire consequences.
The council members descended from the craft, their fluorescent white uniforms setting them aside. A crowd had gathered as often did when super beings visited. The bubble, the chosen method to transport the Security Council members, complete with its anti-gravity facility, awaited. Clearance, through retina recognition, assured the members an untroubled entrance into the craft. The destination was already pre-set – the Time Capsule Centre.
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Dr Laderman was the first to arrive at the centre, Samuel already present. Laderman entered the time capsule booth expecting to see the safe capture of Robert Stave. Klade should also have returned, each in a separate time capsule, hopefully. The booth shutters were up, the capsule room adjacent was empty.
‘It hasn’t worked,’ said Dr Laderman.
‘It gets worse!’ stated Samuel.
Maxius entered the room. The look on Laderman’s face told the truth and Samuel’s slumped head confirmed the dreadful scenario.
‘We had better come up with some answers and quick,’ said Maxius, stating the obvious.
‘You can kick-start our dilemma with a bright idea, if you like,’ shot back Laderman sarcastically.
‘Just saying,’ replied Maxius, on the defensive. Stating the obvious wasn’t really helping the situation.
‘So, Samuel, what could possibly be worse than losing two of the three time machines allotted to us by the Council of the Light?’ asked Laderman.
‘Losing three,’ replied Samuel.
‘Three? What are you talking about? Have we had another break-in by the rebels or something? Hell, if they get their hands on a time machine we really are in trouble!’
‘It’s not the rebels,’ said Samuel. ‘You don’t understand.’
‘Damn right, we don’t!’ said Maxius again, stating the obvious for the second time. ‘You had better start explaining. Senator Lace Adams will be here any minute and will want some answers.’
‘That’s just it. Senator Adams won’t be arriving via the normal entrance. If he arrives at all it will be in that room,’ said Samuel as he gazed through the glass patrician toward the time capsule room.
‘What the heck do you mean?’ asked Laderman. ‘Where is Senator Adams exactly?’
‘In the area that used to be known as Argentina in 2018, except 3.3 million years ago before the asteroid evacuation.’
‘What in God’s name is he doing there and how did he get there?’ challenged Laderman. For one who, like Samuel, didn’t believe in an omnipotent benefactor he found it strange that he used the term that verified its very existence.
‘I don’t know why I agreed. Was I out of my mind?’ asked Samuel out loud.
‘Agreed to what?’ asked Maxius.
Samuel put his head in his hands, the gravity of what he had done began to sink in and sweat appeared on his brow. ‘What punishment would the Council of the Light bestow on me?’ he thought. Time was running out fast and the three representatives would need some answers once they discovered the incompetence of Samuel Parker. The trio in the room had just 45 minutes. A miracle was needed. At that moment, Samuel wanted to believe in the omnipotent benefactor, if only to give him some warped sense of hope.
‘The senator is trying to change the outcome of the evacuation following the asteroid strike 3.3 million years ago,’ replied Samuel.
‘And how is he supposed to do that?’ asked Laderman.
‘By changing the propagation. The archives of the Olympianas suggest that Earth was probably propagated, thus sprouting the existence of a previous species before the Undarthians propagated only 250,000 years ago,’ Samuel stated.
Maxius was confused – not a difficult task. ‘I don’t understand. How is that going to help Klade?’
‘In theory, if the senator succeeds it prevents the rise of the population that evacuated Earth before the asteroid struck. That would mean Robert Stave sees a totally different world when he returns to 2018. There would be no Qudor Volkan to contend with, the portal amplifier would not have been captured by Qudor and therefore Robert Stave would have no reason to travel back in time,’ said Samuel.
‘Well, that’s the most absurd theory I have ever heard. If the s
enator is right, then the whole of the scenery here in New Manhattan would be totally different. If Qudor and his clan didn’t exist, then they wouldn’t be here in our present. The bad news is, gentlemen, that the black pyramids were still evident as I travelled in via the bubble, proving the existence of the very species Senator Adams should have eradicated – the Olympianas.’
Silence in the room as the three contemplated the dire situation. They now only had 40 minutes. The senator could seriously mess with the present if he was successful but none of the three in the room had considered how that might appear. A distinct possibility was that he might create an alternative timeline. Even if he had successfully thwarted the propagation of the Olympianas as a race, it might not change their own present. They were dabbling with catastrophe and they now had approximately half an hour before the Council of the Light would bombard them with questions.
Each of the three gazed at each other saying nothing, the odd shake of the head almost confirming that they were resigned to their fate.
The Council of the Light delegates held their immediate future and the future of our species in their hands.
The future looked as bleak as the storm now approaching New Manhattan, almost an omen of things to come.
CHAPTER 17
A TORTUROUS FLIGHT
Robert Stave headed to Antarctica. Flying the stealth airplane was a dream. The simulation programme Robert downloaded in 2218 was perfect. He had practiced incessantly. The flight programme was pretty basic compared to the technicality of the machines in Earth’s future 200 years on. Robert had planned his mission meticulously; once his surgical operation had been completed, he went into hiding whilst his wounds healed from the procedure. His plan – first, figure out the flight instructions for the stealth bomber and second, request the plans of the banned portal amplifier from his rebel friends.
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