Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller

by Brandon Ellis

  Rivkah whistled, bringing Jaxx to the present.

  “Jaxx, you with us?” asked Rivkah, smiling pleasantly for the first time in...Jaxx couldn’t remember when. A part of him wanted to jump up and give her a hug, then a kiss, then more. The energetic pull seemed more and more intense every time he saw her. A flood of erotic desires almost oozed out of him. Did she feel the same?

  Even if she did, he couldn’t sense it from her, couldn’t read her mind, as if she psychically masked it from these odd powers they both shared.

  The ground shook, then the table. It almost rocked Jaxx onto his back. A thunderous roar filled the domed city and a bright flash lit up the pinkish-purple sky. He glanced to the east. An explosive cloud grew on the horizon.

  Rivkah dropped the book on the table and shifted her hands to her hips. She watched the cloud along with Jaxx. “Those Kelhoons…they did something to a girl. I can’t get it out of my mind, Jaxx.” She glanced at her feet, pounding her boot heel into the earth. “We have to stop them. I don’t care how we do it, but we have to stop the coming slaughter.” She shook her head, squinting at the explosion in the distance.

  Jaxx stared at the iron clad men and women behind Rivkah. They held spears with barrel tips, most likely used to shoot energy charges of some sort, rather than to poke.

  Rivkah sat next to him, butting him over. “Scoot your fat ass over, gimpy.”

  “I’m going to help them fight, but where is everyone?”

  “Kaden Jaxx,” said a man, pointing at a temple at the top of the farthest and tallest hill that almost touching the glass dome. He dipped his head in respect. “I am Grenik Star. My people are underground, practicing and equipping. We have many warriors, but not enough I’m afraid.”

  “They have technology that tops our own,” said Rivkah. “High-mechanized tanks, five-story tall mechs, advanced starfighters, you name it. They just don’t have the man power. These Atlanteans are masters in the air. I’ve seen it. They could give you a run for your money, but that’s not how you win a war. You win on the ground.” She shook her head, her eyes soft. Again, something Jaxx wasn’t used to. “I can’t tell you what I saw in East Rise, the city to the east, but it’s terrible. The Kelhoons are savage dogs and I can’t wait to whip them to put them in their place.”

  “You’re thinking of joining this fight?”

  “I’m not thinking. I’m doing.” She shrugged. “What else am I going to do? I either run, fail, or fight. That’s all I know.” She glanced at the book on the table. “Apparently, this is for you.” She stood. “I guess you, me, and blondie...uh…Katherine Bogle...are part of some master plan.” She gestured to the book. “Liberty told me it’s all in there.”

  Jaxx looked at the book. There was no doubt that he would help with whatever these people needed. He just had to know more, to learn as much as he could about them, about any hieroglyph he could get his hands on, just in case it might tell him something worthwhile, something important like the vortex and the pyramid power. “What can you do with the pyramids, Grenik Star? Can you use them in a battle?”

  Grenik folded his hands in front of him. “It’s not what we can do with it. It’s a matter of your willingness to do something with it.”

  Jaxx tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

  Grenik scratched his chin, looking uncomfortable, then gestured to the book. “It’s all there.”

  Jaxx faced Rivkah. “Your chest.” At the top of her sternum was a blue, glowing crystal embedded in her skin.

  Rivkah put her hand on Jaxx’s chest and a warmth enveloped him, soothed him. “You have one too. It’s a way of communication between us and them.” Her lips parted. She moved back and shifted her eyes and turned on her heels.

  Did she feel it too? The attraction that was more like a magnet that went deeper than looks, appearances?

  “Where are you going?” asked Jaxx, touching her shoulder.

  She eyed his hand. “To the temple. We’ve got to get prepared. We’re commencing a ground assault tonight, hoping to get as many survivors over here as possible.”

  “What’s happening out there?” asked Jaxx.

  “There’s several cities on Atlantis Alto. Or, as you know it, Callisto. And, with many cities there’s many deaths, my friend,” responded Grenik. “We only know what we’ve seen in East Rise. The other cities aren’t responsive. Anyone we’ve sent through the pyramid coffers haven’t returned with reports.”

  “Pyramid coffers?” questioned Jaxx.

  “It’s a teleport system,” replied Rivkah.

  “A teleport—”

  “No more questions, my friend. We must leave.” Grenik bowed. “It’s your choice to join our fight, but we’ll not hold it against you if you don’t.”

  He turned with his compatriots and walked down the rock slated path, except Rivkah.

  “Please help us, Jaxx. I don’t know what it is, but you, Blondie, and I are important. I can feel it. We can help these people.”

  “Why do you care? Why would you stay? These aren’t your people.”

  Rivkah shook her head and gazed toward East Rise. “The girl. That was me growing up. She doesn’t have a chance.”

  Another pull, from his heart to hers, grabbed him. “Did you feel that?”

  “Feel what?”

  He touched his heart. “Look, I don’t know why, but I’ve—”

  Rivkah put her hand up, palm out. “Look, I know you’ve had some type of attraction for me for some time. I haven’t a clue why, since I’ve attempted to make it clear as day that you’re more a rat in my eyes than anything else.”

  “You feel it.”

  “I don’t.”

  Her pupils dilated. She lied. “You do. But why do we have this attraction. I can’t stop thinking about you. All I want is you to be—”

  “Stop.” She twisted around and walked after Grenik and his troops. “Please join us. This is more important than me and you.”

  He watched her disappear down the descending path and into the woods. Sighing, Jaxx opened the heavy book. The words, no, the glyphs, were printed in Atlantean.

  Each page had a year, starting back to the days of Atlantis. He perused page after page, reading nation-state treaties and Atlantis’s history. He went to the back of the book, seeing that the date was this day of all days—if counted correctly.

  He slid his finger down the parchment, finding his name, and then Rivkah’s, Fox’s, and Bogle’s. The symbols on the page spoke of the three, and one overseer, then the one within the three.

  What the hell does that mean?

  He continued on, moving his finger down the page, sucking up each symbol like a sponge. “I’m the main key?” He put his hands up, still wondering what that meant.

  He paused with a gasp. “I’m the sacrifice?” He slammed the book closed. “No, there has to be another way. If Bogle is the overseer, directing us what to do, and I’m the main key...” he bit his fingernail. “The sub keys are here to kill—”

  A starfighter flew overhead, then another and another, exiting through a large square door in the dome.

  He opened the book again to finish the last page. “Zan and Leo? They are the change? Change for what?” He read more symbols. “Coordinates and star systems?” He put his hand to his mouth. Coordinates were written throughout the page. It was a map. He could stay and fulfill his destiny or he could follow these coordinates—if he was fast enough—and fulfill his destiny an alternate way, one in which he wouldn’t need to sacrifice his life to save an entire Atlantean civilization.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why me? I’m a nobody.” He nodded. “That’s probably why. Why sacrifice a modern day Nikolai Tesla or a Joan of Ark? I’m just a washed up archaeologist that no one needs. Chances are they only need a warm body to set this in motion.” He didn’t believe, not for a single second, that he was an Atlantean-human hybrid, who’d been written about in their ancient books. He wasn’t the key. He was Kaden Jaxx. Just boring old Kaden
Jaxx. No one special. Never had been, never would be.

  He shook his head and shifted his negative thoughts to his translations of this book in front of him.

  He smashed his cheeks in his hands as he leaned forward on the table. He closed his eyes, thinking. The book said his DNA was similar to a lever. Once it was pressed down, it would end all dark frequencies on Atlantis Alta in exchange for his own frequency. So, indeed, his death was on his doorstep. He was supposed to die to cancel out the negative vibes. That didn’t make a lick of sense.

  Unless he followed the star coordinates on the map and did something else he hadn’t yet deciphered.

  But, hell…either way, he needed to do something first.

  He grabbed the book and tucked it under his arm and ran after Rivkah. Whether he was going to live or die, he needed to tell Rivkah how he felt about her, and now. And he needed to know that she felt the same.

  43

  J-Quadrant, Solar System - Callisto Orbit

  Fox leaned back in his chair. His exo-suit was on the floor. He curled his fingers behind his neck. In his Oospore, Fox watched Callisto as if it was a movie on his vid screen. He pressed his ship’s cloaking mechanism and yawned. He listened to the wheels vibrating against the dropship’s inner walls, pivoting the outer armor like dragon scales poking outward, the outer armor revealing radar-deflecting mirrors. Hopefully that would keep the Kelhoons away for the short duration he’d be in Callisto’s orbit.

  His control panel beeped and Slade appeared on the screen. Fox flinched, not expecting to hear from Slade until the Secret Space Program entered the system.

  “Welcome, Colonel. I’m here, awaiting your arrival. I have a lot of information I want to—”

  “It’s more than that, Kajka Okbak,” said Slade.

  Fox rubbed his forehead. “What was that, Colonel?”

  The screen switched and a Kelhoon appeared. The creature grinned, slightly baring his teeth—if you could call a no-lipped, straight mouth a grin. “Koojkaka Gonoij.”

  “Excuse me,” replied Fox. “Colonel, can you please—”

  “No, no, Kajka.” Slade obviously couldn’t hear Fox. He instead talked directly to the Kelhoon. “That’s not what I’m saying. Once we take Callisto, my people are all yours, not just some of them, all of them.”

  The scaly freak gave a satisfied nod. “Shakja Sivjka Goojna.”

  “Thank you for that gift. I’ll gladly accept it once the invasion is over. Things have not gone as planned, so Plan B is in effect. I applaud your continued loyalty, Kajka. Human-farms are on the docket.”

  Fox checked the comm line. He had intercepted a frequency. Or, better yet, someone had nudged his energy comm dial to receive a line from a private conference call.

  Kajka put his fists together. “Kja Oovgoj.”

  Slade mimicked him, punching his fists together as well. “Kja Oovgoj.”

  The transmission blipped off.

  “Kja Oovgoj?” It was the Kelhoons party line when it came to genocide. Even Fox knew how to translate it. “To kill them all.” It meant that no matter how many extraterrestrial Beings inhabited an area or were part of an allied cause, the victors were never the allies, the victor was the remaining combat unit or units left alive from a particular race. After the bloodshed on Callisto, and after all the Atlanteans were dead, the Kelhoons would attack the SSP. And with Slade on their side. It meant that the Atlanteans and the Humans would be killed, exterminated, once this war ended. And the ones that weren’t exterminated, he’d use for factory human-farms?

  Slade was sick.

  Fox tapped his teeth with his fist. It couldn’t be. Would Slade really throw his entire men and women, Senators and Governors, the SSP, into the slobbering maw of the Kelhoons? He didn’t know Slade too well, didn’t know his intricacies of diplomacy. Maybe Slade was setting the Kel up, positioning him to expose who the Kel truly were so the Secret Space Program could end Kajka Okbak and his fleet the moment the battle for Callisto was complete?

  He stood and paced back and forth, thinking...thinking...

  If Slade recorded the conversation, Slade could use it against the lizard-heads. If not, then Slade kept the conversation on the down low, making sure no one knew what ace Slade had up his sleeve. In such a case, Slade was going to throw his own blood under the bus, slap some bombs by the tires, and detonate them.

  He checked the comm line. He pressed a few holographic buttons, patching into the call he’d just mysteriously received. He pressed play.

  Static.

  He brought the call up again and pressed more buttons. The word DEADLOCKED filled the screen. The call had been erased, no recording available.

  He pounded his chair, his face flushed red. “I’m going to kill him. There ain’t no shootin’ his noose when he’s hanged.”

  Another beep, this one different. The lights switched to combat red, imbuing the ship’s insides. Fox leapt up, checking his own radar. He had inbound—three Leaping Lizards—Kelhoon Starfighter LL-class 4’s. He was being targeted.

  So much for his cloaking device.

  He flicked his engine to overdrive. They could chase him all over the galaxy if he ran, but thought better of it. He was fast, but mostly defenseless when it came to a star battle.

  He clenched his jaw. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” He pressed forward, adjusting his craft to forty-five degrees. “I’m on my way back. Sheeeit.”

  44

  Lookout Mountain, Tennessee - Earth

  Two leather bucket seats faced each other in the helicopter. Drew and Mya sat on the rear seat, the suit-wearing young man, acting too old for his age, sat directly across from them. They wore helmets with a thick microphone boom rounding to their mouths.

  The helicopter descended toward a clearing on Lookout Mountain. The top of the mountain stretched north and south for miles. Trees and shrubbery were across the high landscape, not to mention the streets and rich mountain homes.

  The man across from them smiled. “By the way, I’m Nick Thacker. They call me T-hacker.”

  Drew cocked his head. “You were on the launch that was aired on TV. You were part of Slade’s crew.”

  T-hacker winked. “The fake launch. It got me here, didn’t it?”

  “Where’s here?”

  The helicopter’s skids touched down and the cabin jostled. T-hacker opened the door. “We’re at the new White House. Welcome.”

  The guy stepped out of the helicopter. The wind whipped across his perfect hair. Drew unstrapped himself and Mya, then grabbed her and walked out of the helicopter, the crunch of gravel under his feet. The helicopter lifted and Drew bent down, shielding Mya from the helicopter’s gust. It slowly flew forward and over a line of trees, disappearing from view, the sound dissipating the farther away it went.

  Drew picked up Mya and studied the area. Large rocks, trees, and grayish-brown soil littered the area. Nothing stuck out as unusual.

  “Step this way, Drew,” said T-hacker, gesturing at two large rocks butted against a cliff.

  A click and kajijijiji pierced the air. The rocks split apart like opening doors.

  Mya squeezed Drew. “Don’t go in there.”

  He patted her back and whispered in her ear. “We’ll be fine. They know where your daddy is.”

  They walked toward the opening, then Drew halted as three men exited and made their way toward him. Drew squinted, wishing it wasn’t so dusk. Is that? No, it couldn’t be. “Anderle?”

  Anderle slapped his hands together then pushed away his long, dyed black hair that draped over his eyes. “Hey, buddy.” He laughed, his belly jiggling through his black, anime shirt. “This is the new White House.” He gestured to a man standing next to him. “Meet President Jefferson Kennedy.”

  The president waved, then vanished.

  Drew shuffled back a step. “What the...”

  Anderle rose his brows, wrinkling his forehead. “Oops, did he just disappear? Oh, yeah, ’cause he’s not real. Another holog
ram, thank you very much.” He pointed to his chest. “Guess who’s the President?” He slowly nodded his head, exaggerating his movements. “Uh-huh, me. I’ve got the whole world thinking President Jefferson Kennedy is an actual person. But, nope, it’s my words coming out of his digitally enhanced voice.” He shrugged, already over the incredibleness of it all.

  Drew looked at the man standing next to Anderle. The guy was Asian, which was great, but the guy didn’t act like he was from the United States or Japan or Taiwan or another allied country. The man’s body-language shouted angry foreigner—the way he stood, the way his head bobbed up and down when Drew made eye contact with him. He shifted a mouth muscle for a smile or a frown. He was military. What the heck was going on?

  “Yeah, yeah,” said Anderle. He threw a sideways thumb at the foreigner. “This is Timothy Johnson, or who I like to call, Spank-a-lot. He’s not a hologram.”

  The guy shot Anderle a look.

  Anderle laughed. “I’m just playin’ with ya, bro. This is General Lin Yu. He’s here to help.”

  Drew had read that name before and the titles, rank, and accomplishments quickly flashed to the forefront of his mind. “That’s the Senior General for the People’s Republic of China. What’s he going to help with?”

  “Oh, don’t be scared. He’s harmless.” He pinched the General’s arm.

  The General gave him a sick stare, this time his lips were in a frown. “Tíngzhǐ tā, nǐ bù chéngshú de xiǎohái.”

  “Sorry, man. I don’t know what you’re saying. We’re in America, speak English.” Anderle rolled his eyes, then walked toward the shadowy opening between the rocks. “It’s beautiful in here. Come join us. We’re the head of the Resistance, the all-seeing eye that’s ordering all United States military units.” He stopped, turning, blending into the shadow between the two giant rocks. “We also have full on dialogue with Senator Ken Furr on Starship Atlantis whenever we want. We have something up our sleeves, if you know what I mean.” He turned, then hesitated. “Oh, I almost forgot. You’ll be safe here during the earth changes. We’re high enough for the flood to just miss us and we’re on top of and inside thick stone that won’t be harmed by the massive earthquakes heading our way.” He stepped inside, his voice echoing through the opening. “And, I ain’t shittin’ you about that, bro.”