Michael Anderle - [Heretic of the Federation 03]
Page 1
Time To Fear
Heretic of the Federation™ 03
Michael Anderle
This book is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Sometimes both.
Copyright © 2020 Michael Anderle
Cover copyright © LMBPN Publishing
Cover Art by Jake @ J Caleb Design
http://jcalebdesign.com / jcalebdesign@gmail.com
A Michael Anderle Production
LMBPN Publishing supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact support@lmbpn.com. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
LMBPN Publishing
PMB 196, 2540 South Maryland Pkwy
Las Vegas, NV 89109
First US edition, December 2020
ebook ISBN: 978-1-64971-392-6
Print ISBN: 978-1-64971-393-3
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Creator Notes - Michael Anderle
Books By Michael Anderle
Connect with Michael
The Time To Fear Team
Thanks to our JIT Readers
Veronica Stephan-Miller
Wendy L Bonell
Deb Mader
Rachel Beckford
Dave Hicks
Daryl McDaniel
Larry Omans
Jeff Goode
Peter Manis
If We’ve missed anyone, please let us know!
Editor
The Skyhunter Editing Team
To Family, Friends and
Those Who Love
To Read.
May We All Enjoy Grace
To Live The Life We Are
Called.
Chapter One
I am coming
Ivy stared at the wall. The words there flowed like blood and leapt like flames and their glow illuminated the room. She pushed to her feet and left John on the couch.
It took an act of will for her to convince her shaky legs to carry her to the scrawled message. Tentatively, she pressed her palm against the surface and smeared it down and across the words.
To her surprise, they weren’t wet and they did not change.
When she removed her hand, they remained as clear and bright as before.
“This wasn’t here earlier,” she murmured, and the compound’s AI replied.
“No,” Roma told her. “I have footage.”
Before either of the young people could indicate that they were interested, the screen on the far wall came to life and they saw themselves on the couch.
At first, it looked as though they were sleeping, then he murmured in his sleep. She stirred and raised her head to look into his face but immediately drew back in astonishment when his skin began to glow.
Off-screen, John’s eyes widened as he watched the light that emanated from his body intensify. The other self on the screen didn’t move, even though the on-screen Ivy shuffled hastily back.
She stared at him for a moment before she prodded him cautiously in the shoulder. “John?”
Her voice echoed around them, but his on-screen persona didn’t move. Her recorded self prodded him again, harder this time.
“John?” Panic laced her voice in the playback. Her companion—the real self now fully awake—heard it, approached her quickly, and took her hand.
He said nothing, just squeezed gently and let her lean into him.
His recorded self didn’t move, but something caught on-screen Ivy’s attention, and she turned to stare at the wall opposite her. The camera switched to reveal the letters appearing on the wall.
It was as though they were being inscribed in blood and fire—or pure fury incarnate. In the background, she shouted his name on the playback.
Roma cut the feed.
“You both know the rest,” she informed them.
Ivy tapped the wall.
“This is… This—” She stopped to gather her thoughts. “It’s freaky. It’s like this Stephanie person is some kind of poltergeist.”
John snickered.
“She cannot be a poltergeist,” Roma informed them. “If she was a poltergeist, she would be dead, and you say that is not the case.”
“That’s true,” John told the AI. “She is not dead, but it’s still weird to be contacted by a mythical figure.”
He stopped and recalled the contact in his mind.
Ivy nudged him. “So…what was she like?”
“She was…well, I didn’t get to see her. I only heard her voice.”
She frowned. “So, what did you see?”
“I woke up—or I thought I did—in a field of purple grass. I didn’t know where I was, but this voice—”
“Voice?” she interrupted.
John nodded. “A woman’s voice. She told me it was Meligorn.”
“Stephanie’s other home,” Remy stated and he glanced at the intercom before he continued.
“I noticed two moons in the sky and mountains bigger than what we have at home…” He paused. “And she thought I was Becca’s son.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t ask. I told her—” He cut off to fight the almost overwhelming surge of sadness that swept over him. After he’d cleared his throat, he continued. “I explained about Becca and what she believed and why she died.”
He fell silent again, and Ivy shifted restlessly.
“What else, John?”
It took a few long moments before he responded.
“She asked me who Stephanie Morgana was, but it wasn’t like she didn’t know. It was more like she wanted to find out who I thought she was, so I told her.”
The boy stopped to recall the conversation that had followed.
Ivy lost patience and nudged him with her elbow. “And?”
John startled.
He shook his head to regain his focus. “She wanted to know if I was worried that her return might cause millions of deaths.”
She snorted. “It’s a little late. The Regime has already murdered that many and maybe more.”
His smile was grim and mirthless. “That’s what I told her. I also said that the blood of patriots feeds the tree of freedom.”
“And what did she say to that?”
“She apologized—” he began, but she interrupted him.
“What did she think she had to apologize for? It’s not like she could have known what they would be like.”
“That’s exactly what she apologized for,” John told her. “For not seeing this outcome. Then she said she wouldn’t rest until the Regime was dead and buried under her feet.”
<
br /> “Yes!” she hissed approval. “So she is coming back.”
“And?” Remy prompted.
John flicked a glance toward the ceiling.
“And she called me her Apostle and said she was the Witch of the Federation—and that she was coming.”
Ivy stared at him, curious again. “What happened next?”
He frowned. “You woke me and said I was glowing.”
The girl gestured sharply at the darkened screen. “Well, you were. You saw the footage. It’s not like you can deny it.”
“No, it’s not.” He smiled sheepishly at her.
“Did she say when she would return?” Roma asked.
“Yes,” Remy agreed quickly, his tone eager. “A date would be useful.”
John shook his head ruefully. “No, but I got the impression it would be sooner rather than later.”
“Hmmm,” Roma said, “in that case, you need to prepare and to do that, you will need to rest. Follow the lighting to return to your room.”
He nodded and moved to the door but when Ivy went to follow him, Roma stopped her.
“Ivy, you need to spend some time in the PodDoc.”
She stopped and frowned at the nearest camera. “PodDoc?”
Her companion paused and tilted his head in thought. “Is that the same as the medical pod?” he asked.
“Affirmative,” Roma replied. “It is the same as your medical pod.”
Ivy glared at John and put a hand on her hip. “So, it does what, exactly?”
“It helps you heal faster,” he told her.
“How does it do that?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I was fairly badly injured when I went into the one Remy had and I was almost as good as new when I came out.”
“Yes,” she insisted, “but how does it work?”
His blank expression confirmed that he had no idea but Remy came to his rescue.
“It works by using rejuvenation techniques to cause damaged cellular material to repair and multiply as needed.”
“It what?”
“It rejuvenates,” Roma added, “and uses medical functions to diagnose injury and enable the body to take the necessary steps to remediate it.”
Both young people stilled.
“It’s a rejuvenation pod?” Ivy asked finally.
“Yes,” Remy answered.
“It combines rejuvenation technology with healing technology to blend both capacities in one machine,” Roma confirmed.
“But…I don’t feel sick,” the girl told her, “and I’m not hurt.”
“I still need you to spend the night in the PodDoc,” Roma insisted. “It is the only way I can take the readings I will require when you are injured. Frankly, I would rather have those readings now than try to take them when I need to save your life.”
“And you think I’ll be hurt?”
“John is about to start a war and you are with him. Calculations suggest that is a high possibility.”
Ivy sighed. “I see your point.”
“The pod is this way,” Roma said. “If you would please follow the green lighting.”
John placed a hand on her arm. “I’ll go with you,” he said reassuringly.
She nodded and they both followed the green lighting to where the PodDoc waited.
“You will need to wear the medical gown to your right,” the AI instructed and she blushed.
“Out!” she commanded and pushed her friend to the door. “You can come back when I’ve changed.”
He complied and made no protest when the door to the PodDoc’s room slid closed behind him. Still exceptionally weary, he leaned against the wall opposite, flicked a cautious glance up and down the corridor, and returned to Ivy only when the door slid open again.
She was seated in the pod and looked up as he entered.
“I’m not so sure about this, John.”
His smile was intended to be reassuring. “You’ll be fine.”
Immediately, she scowled at him, but before she could say anything, he raised his eyebrows in a challenge.
“Why, Ives? You’re not scared, are you?”
Her scowl deepened as she laid her head against the headrest.
Much like he had done, she gasped when the helmet lowered over her head. She stiffened and he guessed she could feel the leads moving across her scalp as the sensors attached themselves.
Her gaze flicked to where he stood. “If this hurts, Mr.-I’m-the-Heretic’s-Apostle-Dunn, I will make you very sorry.”
John gave her his sincerest look. “If it hurts you, Ives, you won’t need to.”
Before she could reply, the pod’s lid lowered.
“John?” her voice quavered and her body jerked as though she’d tried to raise her hand. “Hey! Sonuva—”
It snapped shut with a decisive click.
“The sedative is starting to work,” Roma informed him, and he chewed his bottom lip and focused on the erratic movement of the lines on the display that recorded her vitals.
“Is she all right?”
“She is fine, John,” she assured him as the lines settled. “She is merely not adjusting quickly to the pod. That will change by the time she emerges.”
“Uh-huh,” he commented, his eyes dark with concern.
When no sounds came from the pod and the lid did not re-open, he sighed.
“Well, tonight will be quiet,” he muttered.
The strip of yellow light came to life and he did not hear the snicker the AI kept well inside its circuits.
“What are you laughing at?” Remy asked.
“Because that young man is sorely mistaken,” Roma informed him primly. “It will not be a quiet night. Tonight, I intend to test him.”
"Test him?" Remy asked doubtfully and let her see the likelihood of an unsavory outcome. “I wish to see if he has remembered his training,” Roma informed her fellow AI. “I would prefer to assess his level of skill for myself.”
“I can provide you with the necessary data,” he replied. “I can assure you, there is no need to test his skill in this fashion.”
“I have seen your records,” she responded. “Now, I wish to gather the relevant data for myself.”
“I can assure you this is not necessary—” Remy began, only to have Roma brush his protest aside.
“And I can assure you that you have nothing to fear as I don’t believe your most excellent data will be proven wrong. I merely wish to see this ‘apostle’ in a situation that has not yet been covered so I can assess what gaps I might need to cover.”
“I strongly suggest that you do not do this in a live environment,” he stated. “May I suggest you move his testing to a pod?”
“You may suggest what you like,” she retorted, “but I wish to see how he responds when he does not know he is in a test situation.”
“You mean you want him to think the situation is real?”
“Correct.”
“May I su—”
“No,” she replied firmly. “You may not.”
Remy subsided and stifled a snicker of his own.
This would certainly be interesting.
David Thomason curled his fingers into a fist and snapped the pencil between them. Discarding the two pieces, he lowered his hand and bowed his head.
“I…will kill…them all,” he murmured and gradually pulled his temper back under control.
He raised his head and looked at where the coffee machine was brewing. With a slight frown, he raised his now-pencil-less hand in a brief motion to levitate a nearby cup and float it into the machine to fill it.
The rich aroma of coffee filled his nostrils and he sighed. It was astonishing how the mere smell of some things reduced stress. He moved the cup onto the bench, added cream and sugar, and floated it to his desk.
When it was within reach, he took hold of it and wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic. As he raised it to his lips, he closed his eyes and took the first sip. Ava’s picture and profile
were blocked momentarily from sight.
Once he’d savored his second sip, he opened his eyes again. With a small motion, he instructed the cup to remain afloat while he placed his hand on the mouse and closed the file. The document open beneath it held a list of names and tasks.
The CIO ticked the box beside the woman’s name and moved to the next task on the list. It didn’t take him long to decide his personal assistant was the best person to create a shortlist.
The next item made his lips thin with satisfaction.
The naval plans would hopefully bring better results.
He drummed his fingers on the desk before he took his cup absently by the handle and called the man he needed to speak to.
“Deverey?” he snapped, and his mouth stretched in a tight smile when the man jumped.
His fleet admiral had been asleep, he decided, although he seemed to have snapped out of it now.
“Sir!” the man responded sharply, then softened his tone. “How can I help you?”
“I need to see you.”
Deverey’s eyes widened. “Now?”
“Would I call you otherwise?”
“No, sir. Er…I mean, uh, yes, sir.” Deverey sighed and tried again. “Do you know what time it is?”
David made a show of glancing to one side. When he looked back, there was no concession in his tone.
“Yes, Alistair. I am aware that it is two in the morning, but we have plans to discuss.”
The man’s face went carefully blank and his tone was neutral when he replied, “I’ll be right over.”
The CIO lifted his cup in a brief salute. “I’ll see you when you get here.”