Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller

by Brandon Ellis

  Jaxx didn’t let it stop him. “About thirteen to fifteen thousand years later, Earth ends its interglacial age with a global warming spike, again melting ice and raising the water. Global warming hits a peak, then plunges us back into an ice age. We see this cycle over and over in the ice core samples.” He pointed to a handful of upward climbs on the glyph’s graph. “You see? Here is a global warming spike, then we descend into an ice age. Here is another global warming spike, then another ice age. It happens like clockwork. It’s sort of like the Earth has this binge-and-purge cycle. She wipes the slate clean and starts over. It’s a kind of ecological magic.”

  Rivkah threw her pillow at him. It landed a foot short. “What the hell? Magic? Wiping the slate clean? Are you completely tone deaf? You’re talking about the end of humanity as it’s currently configured; the death of billions of people.”

  Jaxx shrugged. “Nature’s a bitch. She needs to be.”

  “So we’re going to heat up, the oceans will rise, and we’re just gonna jump right back into an ice age, is that what you’re saying?”

  “No, no. In an interglacial age, the water to land ratio gets to a point that the moon’s gravity pull tilts the Earth a certain degree, ushering in the next ice age. Water and the moon’s gravity pull are the keys to this all.” He could see she wasn’t getting it, or she just didn’t care. “Once an ice age occurs, after about one-hundred-thousand years, the ice to water ratio is at a certain point that the moon’s gravity pull with water isn’t exceptional and Earth tilts back to the degree that we are now, ushering in another interglacial age. It’s simple physics.”

  “So, nerd brain, why does it matter?” It took more than “simple physics” to impress her. She had the kind of advanced training all astronauts had. Advanced physics wouldn’t have phased her.

  “We have been through these changes many times. The Lemurians. The Atlanteans. We survived. When we fall into another ice age, it’s not as if the entire Earth is covered in ice. The Earth actually gets top and bottom heavy with ice, the waters start to recede, and more land is exposed. Earth would look more or less pumpkin-shaped during an ice age.”

  “Lemuria and Atlantis, huh? You leave the SSP and become a loony bin?”

  “Yeah, pretty much.” He gave a fake smile. He was used to this jeering tone from his peers, why not from someone who’d never studied the subject in the first place?

  “So, dismissing anything about Lemuria and Atlantis, what you’re saying is that most of us will die when this ice-age arrives? When the Earth becomes a pumpkin and tilts off its axis?”

  He had her hooked, he could tell. She understood what he was saying and was asking the smart questions, now. Jaxx clicked off the EPICA image and went back to the main screen. He took his fingers off the keyboard, wanting to explain more. “The ice-age is well on its way. Once the tail end of the global warming spike hits, just like every global warming spike before an ice age, life changes. Oceans rise for a bit, then they fall. Rivers rise as well and then they fall. Earthquakes and some mayhem, people either move to safe areas, away from volcanoes and oceans and large rivers, or get injured or die. But these changes are not as drastic as they were before the pyramids were built.”

  “Oh my God, dude. Really? Now we’re on to the pyramids?”

  “Yes, because the pyramids were built to act as weight distributor and volcanic release valves. Sometimes cultures completely collapse and disappear during these drastic climate changes. But, that doesn’t have to happen anymore. We’re connected by something I don’t think the Earth has ever seen—the internet. All we have to do is tell people to move inland and get out of the colder areas.”

  “We’re all going to huddle together in the middle?”

  “Anything above Wyoming and below Chile will be under ice.” He pushed his hands together, as if pushing people down from Alaska and the Russian Steppes, up from Australia and South America. “Move more inland and away from major water areas. Once the tilt occurs and the ice age begins, we will find more land in the equatorial regions—land that was once under water.”

  She laid back. “Back up there, buddy. I’m finding it hard to believe that pyramids lessen Earth changes.”

  He nodded matter-of-factly. “What I’m saying is, pyramids were designed to help sustain life more easily on Earth. Yes, major disasters happen. It would, however, be worse without the pyramids, because building a pyramid the size and gravitational strength as what we have in Egypt, China, Europe, Antarctica, Central and South America, will create a rise of some type on the other side of the Earth. The rise will occur 180 degrees, measured directly through the Earth’s core, when the pyramids punch holes through the Earth.”

  Rivkah sat up. Her head was to one side. She was thinking. Hard.

  Jaxx was in his own world, lecturing to the rapt audience he’d never had. “Basically, the Giza Pyramids, the Shen Pyramids, the Pyramid of the Sun, etcetera, punched holes through the Pacific plate, the Atlantic plate, and the Indian plate.”

  “You’ve lost me.” Rivkah shook her head, looking at Jaxx. “How does a pyramid punch a hole in the Earth?

  “Magma cuts a hole through the Earth’s crust and seeds a volcano on the ocean floor, exactly 180 degrees on the other side of the Earth, at the approximate same latitude. The volcano will grow overtime. Magma will spew out of said volcano, building an island above sea level.” Jaxx watched Rivkah’s eyes glaze over. “Are you listening? This is important. You need to understand how this venting system raises the land. This…” Jaxx shot to his feet. “We can do it.”

  “Do what?” Rivkah rolled back on her side and closed her eyes.

  He’d done his usual party trick and bored someone to sleep. Didn’t matter. He had an idea. A good idea. No, a brilliant idea.

  “We can build more pyramids, switch them on, vent more magma, raise more land, and house more people. We can save mankind.”

  She was already asleep.

  He’d had a moment of complete brilliance and there was no one there to witness it.

  Jaxx worked through the night, connecting the dots, charting magma flows, mapping where exactly the new pyramids would go and how large they’d need to be. There was no coffee, no tea, no caffeine in their cabin, so he was working on adrenalin and fumes. Rivkah slept like the dead, not even turning in her sleep. He wanted to cover her with a blanket, but he didn’t dare.

  He put his head down, just for a second, to contemplate the names of the new continents he planned to raise from the ocean floor, then woke with a start, drool on his forearm, his eyes blurry.

  A sound blared through the cabin.

  Thrump thrump thrump thrump.

  It was familiar.

  A helicopter.

  He stood. His chair toppled as he stepped back. He turned to see if the helicopter had woken Rivkah. The bed sheets were crumpled, but she wasn’t there. He walked into the bathroom, turning on the light. She was gone.

  He went back into the bedroom. A window was open, large enough for Rivkah to escape.

  He climbed onto the sill, ready to make his escape, but the cabin door burst open just as he’d gotten one leg out of the window. A rush of wind blasted him. He spun around. Someone was in the doorway, holding a searchlight so bright it almost blinded Jaxx. He dropped his head, shielding his eyes with his hand.

  “God dammit, Jaxx.” It was Slade. “I would have at least liked a chase.”

  Jaxx dropped his hand, sitting straighter in the window frame.

  Slade’s silhouette filled the door, suffused with the light, almost like a god dropped from the heavens. Slade took several hefty steps forward and took one big swing, connecting his fist with Jaxx’s chin.

  Jaxx fell to the ground, out for the count.

  50

  June 11th

  Charlotte, North Carolina

  Drew had done everything in his power to derail Slade. He’d broken into high-security facilities, leaked pictures of man-made pyramids on a far-off moon to th
e press, been interviewed with him on TV, and to top it all off, had provided incontrovertible evidence that the asshole was planning to evacuate a fraction of the Earth’s population—only the highest-ranking officials, politicians, and scientists—and leave the rest of them to rot in the rising waters.

  He was so proud of his team. They’d gotten the word out, just as he’d asked.

  “Starwanderer3” had been arrested and charged with treason. Couldn’t have been his hacking. Converse-man was untraceable. He must have blabbed to someone about what he was doing; someone who had a beef with the Feds and flipped him for less time, or no time, in the slammer. Turned out, his name was Michael Anderle. He was a weapons’ specialist with NASA and had the top-level clearance. That meant the guy was a no-shit genius. All that talent, wasted. Down the tubes. For nothing. He was going to spend the rest of his life in Federal Prison, picking glass out of his Cheerios.

  “Jabberwockmyass,” sent an encrypted message, which took Drew two days to unlock. One word. “Cuba.” He was taking himself off the grid. That meant he, too, had been compromised. Drew would never know his name.

  Which left only “bitemymegabite.” She was the Goth-chick. She hadn’t said one word. Drew’s every hope was that she was safe, rather than in a ditch someplace with Joy Division playing on her shattered iPhone.

  Drew was drained. When the news hit the wires that Slade was planning an exodus, he simply changed the launch date. Nothing was going to stop that mealy-mouthed, weasel-faced, no-good, shit-for-brains bobblehead from leaving Earth for Callisto.

  Drew sighed. He suddenly wanted to see his mother again. He went for his keys when Connor Eves from WNN came on the news. Drew was so out of it, he didn’t realize his TV was blasting in the other room.

  He walked into the living room, avoiding the unfolded laundry and stood, watched, and listened.

  Connor Eves intertwined his fingers as he gave a news anchor-look into the screen; confident, erect, sincere. “No one has been able to pinpoint the location. But we have a feed from GSA, and all our WNN and affiliate stations will be broadcasting the launch worldwide. The view is stunning.” They switched to a shot of a large ship attached to three chemical fuel rockets about twice the size of the space shuttle. This ship was, they were told, twenty-years ahead of its time.

  It was launching today. Slade was getting off planet today. This was beyond messed up.

  Drew lay on his couch and curled into the fetal position. How could the world be so stupid? How could his own network continue to fall for Slade’s lie? When Slade said they were conducting an exploratory mission, so they could “ensure Callisto was habitable” then shuttle “everyone who wants to leave our beloved Planet Earth” on the next round of evacuations, the people, his network, his peers—sheep—had believed him. Why? Why did people always plump for the easy answer? It was beyond Drew’s comprehension.

  The image of the ship was still on the screen, Connor’s voice narrating the history-making event, “In less than one minute, we’ll hear the countdown. We are bringing the ship’s crew live to you right now.”

  Colonel Slade Roberson appeared on the screen, speaking into his intercom. The traitor dared wear a red, white, and blue bandanna.

  The rest of the crew was partitioned on the TV screen around him like the opening credits of the Brady Bunch.

  “That’s corny,” Drew shouted at the screen.

  “Roll call,” Slade announced, giving the camera a wink, doing his politician act. “First Mate, Executive Officer, Richard Fox?”

  Fox dipped his head. “Here, Colonel.”

  “First Helmsmen, Bonnie Monroe?”

  “Here,” she said, beaming a smile for the camera.

  “First Engineer,” continued Slade, “Maya Lou Mills?”

  “Aye, Colonel.”

  “Information Systems Technician, Nick Thacker?”

  “Yep. I’m here.”

  He continued to name off names for the next ten seconds. Names that no one had heard of, including Drew. Going from ship doctors to ancient culture researchers, he finally ended at a linguistic, physics, and pyramid expert, Jon Shaughnessy.

  The one name he didn’t call was Kaden Jaxx.

  Drew’s heart sank. Maybe his uncle had truly been eliminated. Drew wasn’t able to fulfill his uncle’s desires, but at least he had gotten the word out, even if the whole thing had backfired. Drew had propelled Slade to a level of notoriety only enjoyed by a handful of humans.

  “Helmets on. Get ready for takeoff.” Slade gave a thumbs-up to the camera, then put his helmet on.

  The crew fastened their helmets to their jump suits. A bit too aware of the camera for Drew’s taste.

  “Bonnie,” ordered Slade. “Turn on the engines and let her fly.”

  “Oh my God,” said Drew. “That’s not even a launch protocol.”

  A moment later, the craft started to shake and the TV screen changed from the Brady Bunch view to Slade’s ugly mug, filling the entire screen.

  Connor Eve’s voice came over the TV, “Each rocket contains 12,000 pounds of rocket fuel, making it the heaviest and most dangerous launch of our lifetime—of any lifetime. Get ready, because the countdown is about to proceed.”

  In spite of his hatred for Slade, Drew’s stomach swam somersaults, much like the rest of the world. The ship, which was the tip of a larger starship, would eventually dock with the starship in Earth’s upper orbit. Once it docked, they’d be on their way to Callisto.

  The camera panned out. The ship was on a launch pad somewhere offshore, in a beautiful ocean seascape, blue sky above. At this moment, the world, including the news, saw the location for the first time. Yet, no actual location scrolled across the screen.

  The rockets spewed fire, and the craft moved upward as if inching along, then blasted off the launch pad and into the sky.

  Drew couldn’t take his eyes away as the camera followed the craft’s trajectory. His tongue tingled, and his heart beat faster. He clenched his fists, biting his bottom lip. He, like everyone else, didn’t know if he was breathing or not, and didn’t care.

  He thought of his Uncle Jaxx. Was he watching as well? Either from the other side of death or here on Earth?

  Drew took his focus from the ships ascent to the camera panning on Slade. He squinted and cringed, as if he had a million pounds sitting on his chest.

  Connor’s voice came over the TV, but it was more of a distant distraction. “They have 3G’s pressing on them. This is a tough go. But it’s all looking good so far. Nothing to worry about.”

  They entered space in six minutes, which passed like six seconds. Slade smiled, going from Earth’s gravity one second and into space’s nearly non-existent gravity the next. He floated off his chair a few centimeters and into his straps and shoulder harness. “That was a rush.”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a headache,” Fox complained.

  “Me too,” said a couple more voices.

  “I feel like I’m going to throw up,” Bonnie mentioned.

  “Please don’t,” Slade responded. “We’re on national TV.” He corrected himself. “No, worldwide TV.”

  “Everyone relax; we rendezvous with the rest of the ship in a few hours.” said Fox.

  Drew’s eyes widened. Even though he was against every aspect of the launch and Slade’s idea of getting the government off the planet—starting with himself and this ship—Drew was riveted. It was a rush, like watching a car chase on a film or watching a jet fight on blue-ray. If he had popcorn, he’d be shoving fist-fulls in his mouth.

  “Strap back in, crew.” Slade’s voice was low and urgent. The camera caught his worry. He tried to smile, but it was tight, forced.

  “What’s up, Colonel?” Fox asked.

  Slade’s eyes dashed back and forth. He looked at something Drew and the cameras couldn’t see.

  “Something’s wrong.” He pressed some buttons. “Do we have a leak?”

  The TV screen went white.

  Connor blinked
back on the screen; his mouth open. “There are no words…” he faltered, then touched his earpiece. “We’re going to show it.” He held back the tears, but was caught looking down and sobbing just before the TV cut to an image of the debris falling back through the clear blue sky. “As you can see, it launched without a glitch. It…it seems to have exploded just above the atmosphere.”

  Drew’s mouth gaped.

  Connor nodded several times, pressing his finger in his ear. He folded hands together. Wrinkles grew with his downcast face. “God Bless Colonel Slade and his brave crew. May they rest in celestial peace.”

  Drew looked past the TV, shaking his head. This wasn’t right. This didn’t happen. He wanted to laugh, he wanted to call everyone he knew and tell them to settle down and that this was just another conspiracy. He imagined people placing their heads in their hands. Some crying, others bemoaning the fact that humanity’s greatest triumph had disintegrated in front their eyes. Their excitement, their one chance to be part of history, erased in the blink of an explosion.

  But, it didn’t happen. He knew it. He saw through Slade’s bullshit fake-out. He also knew no one would believe him. No one.

  51

  June 11th

  Unknown

  “Lift your leg really high, Jaxx.”

  Jaxx’s mind was coming around, though he hadn’t a clue where he was.

  Slade led him, with a bag of some type over his head not allowing him to see a damn thing. The bag was tied softly around his neck, enough for him to breath—how thoughtful of them—but not enough for him to slip it off.

  He lifted his leg, though weary and weak. His toe hit a ledge. He stumbled, but his foot landed back on the floor almost immediately, which meant he’d just crossed some sort of threshold. Maybe. He needed data, if he was going to find out where he was and where they were taking him. He could neither smell, nor see anything through the bag. He needed sound. He stomped his foot, hard, with his next step. Good. The reverb was metallic. There was also an echo. They could be in a small building. A warehouse of some kind. But metal floors? What had metal floors? He shivered. “Meat locker” was the first thing that came to mind.