Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller

by Brandon Ellis

  Drew figured the guy must be a meth addict, not a GSA hit-man. He eyed the gun more closely. If a street lamp hadn’t been nearby, he’d been fooled. Whatever it was that this guy held wasn’t a gun. It was meant to look like one, but wrapped in black electrician’s tape with a wooden handle equaled a bad fake pistol.

  The guy went to grab the phone when it vibrated. Drew moved it away from the man’s reach and looked at the caller ID.

  Hobbs Howell.

  Drew put his hand up. “Hold on. I have to get this.”

  “Oh, man. C’mon. Don’t do this. I have bullets in this thing, for reals, yo’.”

  “Sorry, bro.” He didn’t want to agitate a meth-head, even if the guy had the world’s worst imitation gun. “I need my phone. It’s kinda keeping me alive.” He dug in his pockets. “Here’s ten bucks. Move on. I don’t have time for you and your toy gun.”

  The guy swiped the bill from Drew’s outstretched hand and shuffled off, muttering about how unfair the world was.

  Drew paid no attention because Hobbs was already talking. “Why did you send me pictures of a warehouse, of a ridiculous train, and—”

  “Thought you’d like the rest of the story, boss.”

  “Drew, I saw how many people you carbon copied. Next time, please send blind copies. I don’t want everyone knowing that you included me in this scandal. I’ll air it, but to have me, Howell Hobbs, connected directly to this information as if I’m part of your government thievery is too much.”

  “I sent carbon copies so that everyone would know that if they didn’t get this story out, then another reporter and another network would. It would be a race to see who came in first.”

  He heard the SUV before he saw it. It had that trademark “large vehicle” hum. Why the security services didn’t all have Priuses was a mystery. Those things were like the stealth fighters of cars. Drew pulled himself as close to the tree as possible. A flashlight rolled over the grass and hit his knee, though the rest of his body was hidden well behind the cedar. The car stopped and a door opened and shut. Footsteps came in his direction.

  The flashlight swept across the grass, one, two, three times, then turned off. The door opened and shut. The SUV drove off.

  Drew whispered into his phone. “They’re trying to find me. They’re in an SUV.”

  “Yeah, right,” said Hobbs. “And there are green men on Mars, giant mutant sucker-fish in the sewers, and ‘The Truth is Out There.’ I’ve seen your dark web page, Drew. I know the kind of conspiracy shit you’re into. Now, get your head out your ass and back in the real world. You work for me. You have to give me a little more information. I want an edge. I want to beat out the competition.”

  Drew thought for a moment. “You know the picture of the train?”

  “Yes.”

  “They use those trains—monorails—to transport secret technology from city to city. The tunnel I was in was gigantic. I boarded one in a tunnel in Plano, Texas and wound up in...” He realized it wouldn’t be a good move to give away his current location. “Let’s just say this...I stowed away on the monorail and that tunnel brought me to another city, thousands of miles away. I can’t tell you exactly how long it took me to get here, but it was fast.”

  “Which city?”

  Drew rubbed his pant leg. “It would be imprudent of me to share my location, Hobbs. We both know that.”

  “Anything else?”

  His phone beeped. It was KMWI. Probably Robert.

  “I have to go.” He hung up without saying goodbye. “Robert?”

  “Drew, man. They’re taking the pictures down as fast as we can get them up. The head of the station got a call from some tight-wad from Washington about national security. He about had a cow. He’s ordered us to stop posting your files. This thing is out of control.”

  “Goddamit,” said Drew. “At least they got the pictures of Callisto out to the public.”

  “Yeah, about that.”

  “Aw, shit. No...”

  “Yeah, they’re spinning it. Hoax. Prank. Photoshopped. Airbrushed. No such mission, blah-blah-blah.”

  “What’s your take? Do people believe the mainstream media? Are they buying it? Or can they smell a cover up?”

  “Drewmeister, no one can tell their ass from their elbow any more, especially when it comes to facts. They’ve probably all tuned out to watch reruns of Game of Thrones or Battlestar Galactica. The news cycle is short. They’ve clamped down and they’ve strangled this particular chicken.”

  “Chicken?” said Drew. He wasn’t often confused, but Robert’s weed consumption outstripped his by a good mile.

  “Figure of speech, my man. The story is dead. Find the next piece of the puzzle and I’ll do my best. See you on the dark side.” Robert hung up.

  He turned his phone off, then stared at that palm-sized miracle of modern technology. He literally had his life in his own hands. He wasn’t cut out for a life on the run. They would catch him. And when they did, he wouldn’t have his phone. He knew exactly what to do. He’d have to wait until morning, when the Post Office opened, but then he’d send his freedom to a place where no one could find it. He’d send his phone to his mom.

  He cuddled up against the tree. It would be a long night if he even attempted to get sleep, especially where he sat. One thing was for sure, going back to his motel would be a mistake. Who knew how many GSA and military eyes watched that place right now?

  35

  June 7th

  Underfoot Black, Grenada

  Jaxx rolled away from the water and shook his head, wet-dog style. “What are you doing?”

  “Waking you, Jaxx.” It was Slade, arms folded across his chest.

  Two guards stood over Jaxx like a prisoner of war.

  “You going to make me look like a fool again?” Slade was all snarl and snark.

  Jaxx stood, checked his shoulder, then patted himself down with a towel. There was a faint scar where the bullet had struck. He rubbed his chest. It was smooth, unscarred, impossible.

  “You were shot. If I hadn’t been there, you’d be dead right now.” Slade tipped his head towards the door and the guards took their cue and left.

  Jaxx sat on the wet, cold tile. He was in a locker room shower, shaking. He had a faint recollection that he’d been through this cold-water routine more than once, but decided to ask his most pressing question. His teeth chattered. “I almost died?”

  Slade ignored him. “You will no longer have access to the RIOUT room. You’ll work in an office we’ve designated Project Atlantis to appease you.”

  Jaxx’s eyes widened. “You’re going to put me back to work?”

  “You’ll be working overtime. We’re behind schedule.” Slade reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of gum, then winked. Seemed to be an odd habit. “This isn’t a reward, Jaxx. This is a carrot. I give you what you want, you give me what I want.”

  Jaxx heaved himself off the cold tile, holding himself up by leaning his hand against the wall. “And what do you want?”

  “We need your brain, Jaxx.” He threw the piece of gum in his mouth. “Nothing’s changed. We need you to translate. We need your expertise with ancient cultures, how pyramids were used as terraforming devices and power plants. And when we reach Callisto, you’ll show us how to turn the pyramids on.”

  Jaxx slid his palms down his soaked pant legs, pushing water to the floor. He felt better, more refreshed. Slade and whatever technology they had down in Underfoot Black had saved him. He touched his chest. For a wound to heal like this, he’d had to have been out for months, maybe a year.

  “Why aren’t you asking the most obvious question right now?” Slade walked towards Jaxx, his boots clacking on the tile.

  Jaxx put his hand on his knees and leaned over in an attempt to quell the spins. “I don’t know what to think about any of this.”

  “For a moment, we thought we lost you. Damned glad this place is state of the art. You’d have been a goner on the outside. Here, w
e can heal what ails you and ail what irks you.” He snorted at his own joke.

  Jaxx frowned. “You lost me.”

  Slade got down to Jaxx’s level; so close that Jaxx could smell his gum. “I made sure they healed you, Jaxx, but if you cross me again, I can make your life a living hell.” He straightened his jacket as he stood. “That clear enough for you?”

  The threat jabbed Jaxx’s memory. “Captain Fox. It was him.” He backed up and bumped into the wall. His eyes darted around. “The bullets...they...Fox tried to kill...” Jaxx shook his head again, his mind pacing at a million miles a second. “Keep that guy away from me.”

  Slade raised his voice, ignoring Jaxx a second time. “By imitating the frequency of a healthy cell, stem cell lotions and sprays, along with advanced holographic healing technology, we were able to heal you in a couple of days. And, if you weren’t nearly dead, it would have gone a lot faster.”

  Jaxx bared his teeth. “Did you hear me?”

  “Yes.” Slade slapped his hands together and Jaxx jerked back. “Pay attention, Jaxx. We have done you a good deed and you will do us a good deed in kind. You’ll help us by giving us something that we now think may be more important.”

  Jaxx gave Slade a blank look.

  “Your memories.”

  Jaxx wrapped his arms around himself to stay warm.

  Slade slapped his hands together again, this time more loudly. “Look at me. We need to glean information from you. Information about Rivkah Ravenwood. Information that might benefit us.”

  “Keep Fox away from me.”

  “He’ll still be around, watching you.”

  “That guy needs to be put away for life. He tried to murder me.”

  “That’s not how it works, Jaxx. When you send confidential information across the wire, lines get crossed, people get pissed, and you almost end up dead. He had reason to shoot you and he was justified.”

  “I refuse to help you if you have that monster following me around. Keep him out of my sight or I’ll sit on my ass and not do a damn thing.”

  “You sent vital information to Drew Avera.” There was a softness in Slade’s eyes when he spoke Drew’s name.

  The asshole is trying to play me; pretend he has a “gentle” side; that he gets what it means to have family. He can’t soften me up that way.

  “We don’t want any of this getting out. If we hadn’t intercepted the emails Drew sent out after receiving your email, this mission would have been severely compromised or completely shut down. Do you know how many people he attempted to contact?” Slade pinched his lower lip.

  Jaxx shoulder’s drooped. “You deleted everything he sent?”

  Slade gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry. Should I have asked your permission?”

  “I don’t care, anymore.” Jaxx shivered and hung his head. “Fox is either kicked off this operation or I’m out and if you hurt one hair on Drew’s body, I’ll refuse to work at all.”

  “You screw up again and I’ll kill you myself. Until then, you’ll do what we ask of you or you’ll be hurting Drew in ways you can’t imagine. Also, start preparing your mind for your ascent into the stars. We’re leaving soon.”

  Jaxx’s stomach about hit the floor. “How soon?”

  “You decoded the propulsion technology. We already have it locked in and ready. We’ll try to leave in less than a month. June 11th.”

  That quickly? How technologically advanced is this place?

  “Will Captain Richard Fox be out of my life? The guy is insane.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.”

  Jaxx flung his hands in the air. “Then kill me now.” He could tell Slade didn’t want to concede.

  “Alright. Fox is off Jaxx patrol.”

  “Can Jon Shaughnessy join me?”

  “No. Enough of this negotiating crap. There will be another who we hope can be of service to you.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Well, are you coming?”

  “I don’t have a shirt.”

  Slade took off his own shirt and threw it at Jaxx. The guy was buffer than Jaxx thought. “Put it on.”

  Jaxx slipped it over his head. “Pants?”

  “You have pants on.”

  “No, dry pants. These are soaked.”

  “I’m not giving you my pants.”

  “That’s not what I’m…” Jaxx huffed. “Okay…can I go get some dry pants?”

  Slade reached around the corner, grabbing a towel. He tossed it at Jaxx. “That’s all you get. Now, let’s get.”

  Jaxx wrapped the towel around himself. “Where are we going?”

  “To figure out Rivkah Ravenwood through your memories.”

  Jaxx smiled for the first time in days. “Is she safe?”

  Slade kept walking.

  “What are you doing with her? Tell me, or our deal is off. I mean it. I’d die rather than betray her.”

  Slade’s lip curled. He probably thought Jaxx bluffed, but he didn’t. He knew, down in his bones, that he would never let anything bad happen to Rivkah.

  “Rivkah has the same brain issue you have and we’re going to see how you two interact. We assume that your issue helps you with how you do your archaeological work, which is why you’re able to decode glyphs so quickly and accurately. We also think it helped with your piloting skills during your time in the SSP. We’re going to see more as to what it does for her and what happens when you two are in close proximity.”

  Jaxx wiped off water that dripped down his face. He was going to see Rivkah. Things looked up.

  “I need you to focus. Stolen SSP documents pointed us to your specific condition. We then conducted brain scans on you when you were out for a couple of days. We did the same for Rivkah Ravenwood—”

  “She’s experiencing these blackouts, these memory reconstructions, the stuff you’ve been having me do in the lab? All that mind-reading and telekinesis shit?”

  Slade gave a curt laugh. “She’s more hands on than you, Jaxx. More of a ‘throw your punch first, ask questions later.’”

  “But, we’re going to be working together?”

  “Sure you are. If she doesn’t kick your ass. Or, as Fox pointed out, kill you first.” He flicked his head to the side. “Now, let’s go. We have a hypnotherapy session waiting for you.”

  A young man walked into the locker room, barely twenty-years-old and a little over-weight. Rifle in hand, he swallowed. “Sir?”

  “What is it?” asked Slade.

  “I’m just the messenger, Sir. Just reporting what I’ve been told.”

  “Spit it out, Private.”

  The young man closed his eyes and recited his report in a monotone. He’d clearly memorized it. “They had it all taken down. Calls from officials, threats of injunctions and jail time, the whole nine yards. The story went dark for a couple of hours, while all major news outlets reported the pictures of Callisto were fakes.” He took a deep breath.

  Slade glared at the floor. If looks had been laser beams, he’d have cut holes clear through to Australia. “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

  “But, dark web, alternate sources, the tin-hat brigade, they leaked new pictures. Pictures of the craft, the hangar, and the supplies. It’s all over the news. Everything. They know it’s not a hoax and they’re asking questions.”

  Slade turned red and glared at Jaxx; again with his laser-sharp look. Jaxx would have been vaporized, if Slade’s eyes had their way. “Scrap Operation Underfoot. We’re going with Operation Heliotrope.” He kicked a locker. “Shit!”

  “Operation Heliotrope. Got it.” The kid-soldier wanted out of there, but couldn’t leave until Slade dismissed him.

  “Take Jaxx to Donny. Don’t let him out of your sight.” Slade took off running. “Screw these Assholes. Are they really worth it?”

  Jaxx turned to his new escort. “Shall we?” For once, he looked forward to his session with Doctor Donny.

  36

  June 7th

  Underfoot Black, Grenada

  Jaxx
marched into Donny’s office and lay on the bed. “Bring it on.”

  “How are we today, Mr. Jaxx?” Donny was his usual, unctuous self.

  “Cut the bull and put me under. There are things I want to know.”

  Donny smiled. “Good, good. There are things Colonel Slade wants to know, too. In fact, I have a list of keywords which, with your permission, I am going to feed into your session.”

  “Fine, whatever. Do it.”

  Jaxx knew he was missing something central. It didn’t add up. Slade wouldn’t just keep him around to ride and ridicule him; he had no interest in the telekinesis and didn’t believe in the mind-reading stuff. Jaxx dug deep into his brain and thought hard. Harder than he had in many, many years. Then it hit him. They—they being GSA—didn’t have all they needed to successfully travel to, or colonize, Callisto and they needed him to find that missing piece of evidence. At least, that was one theory. He tucked it in the back of his mind for further consideration.

  “You are relaxed,” said Donny. “You are at peace. You are…”

  Jaxx was already under and, as with his last session, he watched the past, while in the past. He was coming into his own. He was starting to remember, rather than just play-back scenes which started to fade as soon as he woke. He was thrilled to note he wasn’t in his cockpit, or Admiral Gentry’s office, or any other place he’d ever been. He was in a new place, a new memory. A memory neither Slade nor Donny needed to know anything about.

  Then he realized that, in addition to this being a completely new memory, for the first time since he’d been plunked back into his buried past, he understood the context. He was in a huge briefing room prepping for a sortie into enemy territory. There was only one problem. Jaxx was an avowed pacifist. Always had been, always would be. Whatever they’d done to him, to get him into that jet fighter and take enemy planes down, they weren’t going to do again. He’d resist. He wouldn’t drink the Kool-Aid, or whatever it was they dosed him up with. He’d stand down and be court martialed. He didn’t care.