Jonathanvik's stories

Just a place where I like to post some silly stories I've written. I'm a very dedicated writer and wish to become professional one day.

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 38

“What… no!” Vera screamed as her lord and General of the Altair, Tarazed the Abomination, disintegrated around her. He’d lost all the Grand Intelligence’s protection and couldn’t maintain any substance in this minor universe. She screamed as the tendril holding her crumbled to pieces, leaving a several-story drop awaiting her. Out of instinct, Vera tried transforming, but stopped herself. Thanks to this stupid bomb collar, it’d only hasten her death.

Thankfully, in his dying moments, Tarazed realized this and caught her in his final death throes before she struck the ground. She landed with a painful thud against his squishy flesh, but it spared her a deadly fall. This tendril crumbled too, but Vera slipped to the ground before it vanished. The impact sent spikes of pain through her leg, leaving a deep gash from the gravel floor.

Lord Tarazed’s death resonated through the Altair’s hivemind as the tragedy struck each Altair, both as a collective and as individuals. The sorrow of countless souls reverberated through her head at the fall of their proud and noble general. Tseen Foo’s rage lashed out at everything around him. The senseless destruction only stoked his desire for revenge.

“That’s it! I’m coming over there.” A cruel smile formed in their connection through the hivemind. “And it’s perfect! The Red Devil won’t be in any shape to fight me! Humanity’s so-called champion will perish!” She sensed him running in their direction, smashing anything in his path. A car speeding down the highway was flattened by a careless foot. This was only a taste of the revenge Tseen Foo would inflict against humanity.

The Red Devil sensed his approach and stood at attention. It lumbered in that direction, almost stomping Vera flat in its haste. Only a quick roll saved her from being pulverized.

But her relief was short-lived as unmarked, black trucks sped towards her, ready to finish the job Prince Hallfar had planned. Vera howled in frustration. If only she could transform. But no, that wouldn’t help either. Rose would destroy her with ease. If Lord Tarazed couldn’t beat her, what chance did she have?

“Enough.” The powerful voice sent a jolt through her body. It demanded absolute obedience. Even the hotheaded Tseen Foo stopped cold, forced to obey without question. “You will not throw your life away, Tseen Foo.” 

“B-but Lord Alshain, the Red Devil killed Lord Tarazed! She deserves to pay! She’s weak, and…”

“No, Tseen Foo. That is an order. You fight the Red Devil, and she will kill you,” Lord Alshain said, the last of the Altair generals. “Vengeance will come, but not today.”

“Fine then!” Tseen Foo’s mental smile turned wicked. “I will return to Minneapolis and continue smashing. The expression on that devil’s face when she finds her precious human city crushed into dust!”

“No, Tseen Foo. Go into hiding now.”

“But!” Tseen Foo said in utter disbelief.

“Did you forget these people are our food? I won’t have them wasted for some petty payback. Besides, the Red Devil is quickly approaching. She would destroy you, another senseless waste. Let the humans assume we’re defeated. There sense of victory will be short-lived, I promise you.”

“Fine.” Vera sensed Tseen Foo slink away like a chastened dog.

“And me, sir?” Vera cringed. She’d spoken out of turn. “Is there any way to help me?” She eyed the trucks approaching her with worry.

“Don’t worry, Aquilia. No harm will come to you,” Lord Alshain said. “I already have your escape planned out.”

“How? Are you nearby, sir?” Vera said, her eyes bulging.

“No, I just arrived on this planet, Earth, an hour ago. I am somewhere called Spain. Poor Tarazed—I warned him to wait for me, but he wanted to do the operation his way.” Lord Alshain gave a mental shake of his head. “Regardless, I’ve been following events. You will be rescued.”

“How?”

“I might not be there, but…” Vera heard a smirk behind Lord Alshain’s words. “Someone else is.”

Her whole body jerked as the ground rumbled beneath her, and Vera crab-walked away as the Red Devil returned. Its head swiveled around like a hound searching for a scent. “Who’s there?”

“Disappointing. It seems the Red Devil’s senses are keener than I expected. No matter,” Lord Alshain said.

A scream escaped Vera’s lips as the ground thundered beneath her as Rose’s robot lost its footing and toppled over. Sparks flew from a gash across its chest. It was deep, exposing circuitry.

“It dodged away?” Lord Alshain said, annoyed. “That should have stolen its head.”

“Who?” Then Vera saw it. The air above her seemed to shimmer in the daylight like a mirage. Whatever it was, it was giant, standing almost as tall as the Luyten V. Its indistinct form stood crouched, like a predator ready to strike.

“He Ge, grab Aquilia and go to the rendezvous point.” Lord Alshain’s words brooked no argument.

“Understood.” He Ge’s hazy head lowered in supplication.

Before Vera even registered what had happened, the ground beneath her tore away, tearing away a good chunk of soil with it. It stuck to her blouse as she rolled through it. She bounced as the figure holding her dashed off with incredible speed. She grimmaced, spitting out dirt as some spilled into her mouth.

“Hold it!” A beam lanced after them. It left a blackened scar, but He Ge pivoted away before continuing his dash. In moments, the quarry had become a distant bad memory. Luyten V came in pursuit, but soon became confused as He Ge’s camouflage made it difficult to tell where he’d gone.

“What are you doing?!” Tseen Foo demanded. “You hurt the Red Devil, so why not finish it off?”

“Its time will come, Tseen Foo.. Enough questions. Go to the rendezvous point. We will discuss our next move then.” There was a grim smile behind Lord Alshain’s words. “The timetable has changed.”

“Huh?” Vera’s teeth rattled as He Ge maintained his breakneck pace. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been in discussion with the Grand Intelligence,” Lord Alshain replied. “Lord Tarazed’s death will not stand. This puny planet has been a thorn in our side long enough. Already the Altair are stirring. We will soon march.”

“For what?” Vera asked.

“For the full invasion of Earth. It will be our launching pad into this universe. We will spread out and consume all. We are the Altair, and all are our prey.”

“A full invasion?” Including the Grand Intelligence itself? Vera’s breath caught. She’d never heard of their great leader being pushed this far. Lord Tarazed’s death must have really ticked him off. Their leader wanted Rose dead. They would burn and consume all she loved. It sent thrill and apprehension through her. This was it. They’d entered the final act, and Earth’s demise would be the curtain call.

///

“Sorry, it escaped,” Rose said, hanging her head. Inside, she seethed at her failure. “It was fast.” She couldn’t believe it’d stolen Vera from under her nose.

“It was hardly your fault. We didn’t even know some Altair could cloak themselves.” Director Shapley steepled his fingers on his desk. “You were lucky. That ambush could have ended you.”

At least Minneapolis was safe. Altair B had left the second after the general’s destruction. The damage was pretty terrible, but it could have easily been much worse. Still, the death toll was horrible. The news outlets still didn’t have an estimate.

“Yeah.” It was lucky the Luyten V had sensed something amiss. Its ability to sense the Altair was truly remarkable. She paused, and a silence hung between them. They both knew what they were avoiding talking about.

Rose fidgeted in her anxiety for her friends, but there was nothing to do but wait. She’d offered to use the Luyten V to help the work crews, but they’d shooed her away. She’d only get in their way. So Rose waited, waited for the other shoe to drop.

“Oh, Cecilia.” Why had Rose agreed to that stupid bait plan, anyway? Beta’s destruction meant nothing compared to her friend’s life. And Sandage. She couldn’t bear anything happening to him. It was a disaster all around.

When he saw Rose tearing up, the director put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We’re doing everything we can to recover them, okay? We’ll bring them back.”

Rose only gave a rough nod of her head and wiped her eyes clean. How she hated crying in front of others.

“Cecilia’s special. I don’t think she’s finished just yet,” Director Shapley said, a slight smile on his lips. “And Sandage is too stubborn to die easily. Still, this sudden appearance of that new Altair bothers me.”

“Mr. Shapley?”

“Why didn’t it help Beta?” The LUVOLT director paced. “Its cloaking ability was impressive. Witnesses barely noticed it until it was right on top of them.”

“We should work on expanding the Luyten V’s sensors,” Rose said, glad for the distraction. “I wonder if Stella could help us? I’ll PM her on YouTube.”

“Not a bad suggestion.” However, he sounded loath to ask the VTuber’s help. 

Stella’s unknown origin had always bothered him. He seemed unsure whether they could completely trust her. Reasonable, but silly in Rose’s opinion. Stella was a friend worth trusting, , but no one bothered listening to her views. Despite being Luyten V’s pilot, they considered her only a child. It was beyond frustrating.

A buzz caught the director’s attention, and Rose waited with bated breath as he answered. Thanks to his long experience with the FBI, Shapley’s expression gave nothing away as he spoke.

“I see. Keep me informed,” Shapley said before hanging up.

“Some good news. They found Prince Hallfar. Thankfully, his armor took the brunt of the damage. He should make a full recovery.”

“That’s a relief.” It spared his father, the Ectutai Emperor, from losing two sons in short succession. Rose choked out the next words. “Did they find anyone else alive?”

Despite his stoic demeanor, a smile crept onto Shapley’s face. “They found Sandage. Broken leg, but he too should recover.”

“Thank goodness.” Rose sighed in relief. “And Cecilia?”

All joviality left the LUVOLT director’s face. “She wasn’t so lucky. They found her half-buried. The damage is bad. But she is alive.”

“Oh, poor Cecilia!” Rose said,  tears stung her eyes. What could this mean? Was it possible she might never walk again?

Shapley seemed to read her mind. “As I said, it’s too early to say. And let’s not forget our Ectutai friends. They have medical treatments far beyond our technology.”

“I hope it’ll be enough.” Still, Rose knew it’d be an uphill battle. “When can I see her?” She paused. “And Sandage too!”

“I’ll have Brown take you to them right away,” Shapley said. “They’re at Saint Alexius Hospital.”

“Thanks again!” Rose said, thankful from the depths of her heart. She hoped the hospital had good news. Too many people had already died. Too many good people.

“Thanks again!” Rose rushed out. She was determined to watch over both her friends as they recovered. And visit the Prince too, of course. He’d suffered too much already. If she could improve their situation even a little, she would. This was how she’d spite the Altair: by fixing what they broke. She’d show them humanity doesn’t break easily.

///

“Not good,” Macauley said, biting her digital lip. “This wasn’t meant to happen. Cecilia shouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

“It’s not your fault. You did the best you could,” Petrus said to the computer screen. He sipped his grape soda, his favorite. It had gotten him through plenty of long nights back in college. He watched as the alien entity paced across his three screens.

His friend and benefactor was always like this: a total worrier. She’d really grown to care for Cecilia and Rose since this little adventure had begun.

“There’s worse news,” Macauley said.

“Why, what’s happened?” Petrus stood straighter.

“The third and final general has arrived on Earth,” Macauley said, her voice grave.

This caused Petrus to sit straighter.

“No. Already?” From Macauley’s projections, that should have happened months , maybe even a year later. The Altair were stepping up their game.

“Yes, I detected a huge warp in space-time. It is consistent with the other generals. Besides, who else could it be?”

“Poor Rose might be in for a rough time pretty soon,” Petrus said.

“No, it’s worse than that,” Macauley said, her voice grave. “I’ve detected more warping of space-time on the fringe of the solar system. So far, nothing’s come through, but it gives me a bad feeling.”

Ice shot through Petrus’s chest as an unwelcome idea went through his head.

“How big are we talking about?”

“Huge, almost the size of a small moon, but it’s growing steadily,” Macauley replied.

“No,” Petrus pounded a fist on his desk, already guessing what this might mean. “Is this a prelude to a full-on invasion?”

“Why not? We’ve already bested two of their generals, and we’ve hurt them dearly.”

The Altair had a hive mind. Who knew how death felt through their connection? Beta’s death would have been particularly impactful. This wasn’t good.

“No time. No time!” Macauley paced again. She wasn’t the implacable, mischievous figure she pretended to be. She had doubts and fears like other living beings.

No time indeed. Petrus looked at his half-finished work and despaired. All this work for nothing. His control system wasn’t even remotely ready. He’d been working to construct an artificial Altair as a core, similar to what Luyten V had. While his friend had other scientists working on similar problems, he was only one piece among many. Macauley’s plan to spearhead their defences with another Luyten V had failed. The technology was just too complicated.

“No! I refuse to admit defeat!” The cup holding his grape soda rattled as Petrus pounded a fist on the desk. “I refuse to surrender the Earth to those monsters just yet.”

“Brave soul, Petrus.” Macauley’s avatar wore a wan smile. “Just the attitude we need. But we need time we can’t afford.”

No! Petrus refused to despair. Before Macauley, he’d been a disgrace. He’d convinced fellow students to test a drug he’d been working on. It was designed to boost attention and memory. It worked, but at a terrible cost. The boost eventually wore off and actually caused some damage to the human brain. In his haste, he’d failed to consider this. And when the university dean found out…

But Macauley had given him a second chance to make things right. He refused to let it stop there.

“Then, we pivot! Into something else!” Petrus was speaking without really thinking, but he was onto something. “A weapon Luyten V can really use to fight the Altair! One final tool to save the day.”

This caught the VTuber’s attention.

“Oh? You have a suggestion?”

“Well, no... But the others might. We need to convene the others you’ve recruited, Macauley. That way we can discuss it and brainstorm ideas.”

“Okay. That sounds like a good idea.”

“Really? So quickly, after you’ve worked so hard to keep your cabal secret?”

“We’re far beyond caring about that. And we should get LUVOLT involved too. You yourself said they have the world’s best minds.”

“Must we?” Petrus hated involving the feds. Their red tape and bureaucracy would only muck things up. “Okay.” But his reservations hardly mattered. Humanity was still ignorant of the upcoming threat. They needed to know. They didn’t have the sensors his friend had. And having their new alien allies behind them wouldn’t hurt either.

“Chin up, Petrus. We might actually have something. This group of geniuses will save the day. We must. Otherwise, all is lost.”

[jonathanvik]

Peripeteia - Prologue - Chapter 1

“This can’t be,” Kalfar stared down the cliff, trembling with rage. After all his work, all his struggles to bring his people to the one true God, this was how they repaid him? Never had the prophet felt older than his eighty years.

In the torchlight, figures danced and swayed around the golden figure. They moved to the beat of the drum, each bang sounding like a thunderclap. Few even danced naked, utterly shameless in debauchery. Each of his people debased themselves as they worshiped the golden bullock they had created. 

The Sovereign had saved them from utter annihilation, shown them miracles beyond their understanding. Yet, they preferred their own wisdom to anything holy. The stone tablets in his arms trembled from his outrage. His old arms could no longer support their weight. With a resounding crack, they shattered against the cliff face.

“What was the use?” Kalfar collapsed onto a nearby rock and covered his wrinkled face with his aged hands. What was the point of continuing? These stubborn, thick-necked people would never obey. Even if they repented, their hearts would only wander again to false gods of their own creation. Man only wanted to worship itself.

“These stiff-necked people have turned against me.” The prophet jerked, startled. 

The gale appeared before him, Kalfar’s straw-like hair waving furiously as he sensed its anger at the betrayal his people’s actions had done against this holy one. 

“They have done a detestable thing, polluting themselves with the gods of the land I took them from. They lust after images with neither life nor substance. My anger burns against them. I should destroy them.”

The prophet remained silent, offering no reply. For how could he argue against that? They’d cost him forty years of his life for nothing. No doubt the revelers down at the camp were laughing at him. He was just a foolish old man who bossed them around with rules they neither wanted nor heeded. Let the Sovereign judge them and give them exactly what they deserve.

A moment of silence passed as Kalfar waited for the Sovereign’s just judgment. Yet the Sovereign’s light only floated there, as though it expected something. But when no words came from his mouth, the Sovereign finally spoke.

“I see your heart, my prophet.”

This made the prophet retreat a step.

“You have grown weary of leading these hard-hearted people. You believe there is no room for forgiveness, nor should I give it.”

“No, my Lord.” Sweat trickled down Kalfar’s wizened face. “I would presume nothing of the sort!”

“You disappoint me. If you had argued for your people, I would have freely forgiven them. These last difficult forty years have hardened your heart to your people’s struggles. You quit on them, and assumed I’d do the same.”

“I…” The prophet couldn’t argue. The Sovereign knew all things. Any protest would be pointless. He hung his head in humility. “You’re right, my Lord. I have sinned.”

“I will judge you, too, Kalfar. You are not without sin. But fear not. I will not destroy you. My grace covers all. But this transgression will face judgment.”

The prophet started as screaming came from the camp. His old bones carried him to the cliff’s edge, where he peered down in horror. People were running around the camp in utter panic. They scrambled so wildly that it was difficult to tell what was happening.

Then he saw them.

Among the people were snakes, countless beyond number. They attacked without mercy; sex, age, nothing deterred them. Anyone bitten died instantly. This was the cost of their sin. His sin.

Horror dawned on Kalfar as he realized what he had done.

“I promised your ancestor Regus I would create a great nation from his loins. But these people have shown themselves unworthy. Fear not. I will still fulfill this covenant. I will destroy these people and build a great nation from you instead, my servant.”

“Me?” It sounded absurd, impossible. “At my age?” And his long-barren wife, Evelina, was almost five years older than him. “Evelina!” She was somewhere in the camp. Fear for his beloved wife made his weak ankles shake.

“Fear not, for I am the Sovereign. My words are true and cannot be broken. No harm will befall your wife. Only you two will survive this judgment. Soon you will bear a son. You will name him Ottostein. He will be the rock upon which I will build a great nation.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” Despite the dire scene below him, gratitude filled Kalfar. Despite his foolish unbelief and pride, the Sovereign had found it in His infinite grace to forgive him.

Still, there were consequences. The camp, once vibrant with merriment, now lay desolate, still as a grave. Sin always had consequences, even if they weren’t immediately apparent.

“I will give you one final command. I will give you instructions for tattoos you will mark upon your body. These markings will separate you from other nations and show you belong to me. Your wife and your son will also bear these marks. So will Ottostein’s children, and their children across the ages. They shall serve as a lasting reminder of this day—of my judgment and grace.”

---

“Purity! Salvation demands cleansing from all sin! Any other path leads to utter damnation!” The preacher, Judaic Quinn, gestured wildly with his hands, emphasizing each syllable.

“Huh,” was Jude’s bland reply, pretending to be enthused as the crowd erupted with cheers. The crammed worshipers bunched around him, jostling him.

His mother seemed on the verge of fainting in the religious fervor. Jude remained tolerant as a woman bumped against him, ruffling his nice suit. He was dirt poor, but it paid to be presentable.

“Sin! Sin is the root of all evil. Only through careful gardening can one live a life free of entanglements. Only through freedom from sin can one live a worthy life. For the Sovereign only accepts those who are truly pure!” the preacher continued.

“Free of entanglements, huh?” Jude couldn’t help but notice the expensive suit and the watch on his lapel that cost more than his car. But he supposed that when you were Otterra’s most famous preacher, you had an image to maintain.

Twenty more minutes passed until Quinn finally reached the end of his sermon. “Yes! We must tolerate no sin. Or we risk becoming a blight in the Sovereign’s eyes. Purity, purity should be our only aim. Be pure, and endless blessings will fall upon you. Success and riches beyond your imagining! Has the Sovereign blessed you? If not, a deadly sin is lurking in your heart!”

Still, for all his endless talk, Quinn had an undeniable magnetism. When he spoke, everyone else stood in rapt attention. Jude guessed thousands entered the collection boxes as they exited the chapel. Pays to be religious, he supposed.

And the chapel was a grand building with high arches and stained-glass windows depicting adventurous scenes from Ottomon history and scripture. Nearby, construction equipment stood ready for the planned expansion. The building wasn’t big enough to hold the fruit of Preacher Judaic Quinn’s popularity.

“Quite a sermon, eh, Jude?” His mother was a tall woman with a plump but athletic build. Her face was red with excitement.

“Yes, it certainly got a crowd,” was Jude’s noncommittal answer.

His mother knew he hated this scene. Yes, he was half-Ottomon, but that didn’t mean he shared in their beliefs. Thankfully, his father had persuaded her not to give him their famous tattoos. Till it made him stand out from the crowd of Ottomon around the church who wore their tattoos with pride. The markings often earned them the nickname “demon” by their enemies for how fearsome they made them appear in battle.

“It didn’t interest you?” His mother crossed her arms. 

“Well, no.” His mother had for years pushed him to be more involved with his ancestors’ faith, but it’d never drawn him in. Honestly, he considered it more quaint than anything else. A god that created the heavens and earth? What logical-minded person would believe that these days?

Still, it didn’t stop her from trying. In fact, she had a bombshell even he hadn’t expected. “Well, you’ll be interested to know that I got us a meeting with Preacher Quinn himself.”

“Huh?” Jude froze and apologized to the man he’d bumped into. “How did you accomplish that?”

“I have my ways,” his mother said proudly, her smile sly. “In fact, he’s eager to meet you.”

“I don’t know.” It was already almost one o’clock. He had a deadline soon, and he was getting hungry.

“And you can interview him!”

“Mom, I’m not that kind of reporter.” Besides, Quinn would likely sue them if he appeared in the rag he wrote for. His mother continued her pleading look.

Finally, Jude capitulated. “Fine.”

“Excellent! He’ll meet us in an hour,” In her mind, this was the perfect chance to convert him finally.

Jude sighed. At least this provided them sufficient time for lunch. Oh well. He’d manage the deadline somehow. In fact, all this talking got his brain working as an idea struck him. His editor would love it.

///

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jude Zimmer.” Four fingers grabbed Jude’s hand and gave it a vigorous shake. Quinn gave him a gap-toothed grin, his eyes sparkling. Considering his rather lengthy sermon, Quinn seemed surprisingly energetic. Just watching the service had made Jude exhausted.

“Likewise.” Regardless of his feelings, Jude remained polite. “Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet us.”

“A teacher mustn’t neglect any of his flock. Each sheep is precious to him,” was Quinn’s perfect answer. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Have you?” Disquiet growing in Jude's stomach. 

“The Incredible Frog Boy Strikes Again!” the teacher dramatically proclaimed.

Jude groaned inwardly, but maintained his smile. “You’ve read that story, have you?” His mother must have told Quinn about it. Jude always wrote under a pseudonym.

“How could I not? The Weekly Truth is hard to miss on the newsstands. Their headlines are always the most incredible. Are Aliens Impersonating Your Mother-in-Law? Abandoned Mall Found Deep Underground? Truly eye-catching!”

“I like entertaining people,” was Jude’s self-conscious reply. Usually, he got around explaining this part by claiming he worked at a more reputable paper.

“And I’ll admit I have a vested interest myself, considering my condition.” Quinn waved his four-fingered hand. “Who knows, I might appear in your paper one day. Demonic Preacher Leads Cult or the like.”

“That will never happen. We don’t do celebrity gossip.” Besides, demonic beings and nephilim were something Jude refused to write about. He couldn’t quite explain why, but it touched a nerve somewhere.

“Yes, my son is a talented writer, but I wish he’d use his skills for a better purpose,” his mother piped in. Alarm bells rang louder.

“I do decently,” Jude said, somewhat defensively. The Weekly Truth wasn’t the best-paying job, but he enjoyed his work.

“But are you content? Couldn’t you do better to help your people?” Quinn asked. “Do something for a higher calling?”

“What’s this about?” Jude asked pointedly. He didn’t like his mother’s broad smile.

“I’ll come out and say it. With this newfangled e-mail technology, I see an opportunity. It’s truly amazing, isn’t it? With a click, you can communicate with anyone across the globe! To Rojan, or distant, secluded nations such as Konquell. Truly amazing, you must agree. And with technology comes opportunity, a means to extend the Sovereign’s flock.”

“And you need me?”

“Yes! You are an excellent writer, Mr. Zimmer. The Church of New Dawn could use your skills. We’ve been discussing writing a newsletter, one that’d spread our worthy, righteous words not just across Otterra but the entire world. We see great potential in this technology. Great potential! We’re also considering publishing articles online, too.”

“You’re very skilled, Jude. They could use you!” his mom interjected.

“She’s right. While I’m a great speaker, I am a poor writer. And my schedule doesn’t allow me the freedom for such noble work, sadly. The Church of New Dawn wishes to hire you. It’d be a full-time job. How does thirty-five thousand a year sound? There’s a generous pay increase, of course, if we like your work, which we will.”

“Thirty-five thousand!” That was almost double what The Weekly Truth paid him. And all for writing some internet articles? “Wait, why me? My mom must have told you I’m not exactly a believer.”

“I see talent in you,” Quinn replied. “It would be a waste not to use it.”

“And that I’m an unbeliever doesn’t bother you?” Jude’s comment earned a scowl from his mother, but he remained firm.

“The Sovereign uses all walks of life. Even the unsaved can serve his purposes,” was Quinn’s cool reply.

“But to preach in his name as an unbeliever…”

“Unimportant. That souls are saved matters the most,” Quinn said.

“Look, sir. I understand what you’re talking about, but I can’t in good conscience go along with this.”

“Explain?” Quinn asked, genuinely confused.

“I write trash, I’ll admit it. But I don’t actually lie to anyone. Everyone who sees our rag at a grocery store knows it’s utter balderdash, but they read it because it’s amusing, a slight distraction from life’s drudgery.” In Jude’s opinion, there was no shame in writing something to entertain people. As silly as his rag was, if it brought a smile to an overworked housewife, it was worth it.

“But your newsletter would reach millions of people searching for spiritual substance. And I would be lying to them, telling them spiritual truths I personally didn’t believe. That doesn’t sit well with me,” Jude admitted.

“But you’d be saving people’s souls, Jude,” his mother said, frustrated.

“No, it’s okay. A man has his conscience. If that’s your answer, I won’t argue against it,” Quinn said. “But think on my proposal. You might realize our congregation has more to offer than you first believed. Though you don’t have Ottomon tattoos, you are still part of our family. Part of the Sovereign’s family. Please don’t forget that.”

“Okay,” Jude accepted the man’s business card. “I’ll think about it.”

“Perfect!” The teacher shot him a radiant smile. “You’re always welcome here, Mr. Zimmer.”

///

“Why didn’t you agree, Jude? It was an excellent-paying job!” His mother said as they exited the opulent temple. “You’re overthinking things. Your brother would have taken the job.”

“Yes, but I’m not him.” And his half-brother Karkas was a plumber. “I’m fine where I am, Mom. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do. You’re the only one in the family without the faith!”

“Except Dad.”

This mother’s mouth twisted into a scowl, eyes full of resentment. “He wasn’t one of us, Jude. He bailed the first chance he got!”

That wasn’t quite true. The fact that his Vanderfall father refused to convert to Ottomonism had created such a rift that his parents inevitably divorced. Despite this, he’d kept in constant contact with his children. He was a loving father, regardless of what his mother thought.

“At least promise to come to next Saturday’s service.”

“Sorry, Mom. But this isn’t my scene.” Jude remained firm on this point. “I’m not religious, nor will I ever be.” For all his faults, Jude refused to be something he wasn’t.

His mother scowled but didn’t reply. Jude kissed her cheek and wished her farewell as he got into his car. Besides, He had a deadline to worry about. As he departed, he forgot about the Sovereign and focused on mole people hiding in the sewers.

///

“I’m telling you, Jude, there’s a story there,” Kalquin said. “Durgan is getting a little too ambitious. They might really annex parts of southern Vanderfall.”

Cars zipped past them, Jude just barely avoiding getting clipped by one, as a large man bumped into him. With the lunch rush, people packed the streets. Jude turned to glare at the man, but he’d already vanished.

“Well?” Kalquin asked, an eyebrow raised expectantly.

“Well, what? Durgan and Vanderfall have been at each other’s throats since forever, it never comes to anything.” Jude edged away from the street. “And what story? We don’t write the actual news.”

His friend deflated a bit before standing tall again. “It’s still important to pay attention to the world scene. Besides, I don’t want to be a tabloid writer forever. I’ve been submitting freelance stories in the hope that an actual paper might hire me.”

“Good luck then,” Jude said, meaning it. He was fine with writing for the Weekly Truth during this season of his life. Later, who could say? He couldn’t fault Kalquin for having ambitions. Afterall he himself  intended to own his own paper someday. What actual form that paper would take remained to be seen.

As they approached the street promenade where they usually got their lunch, a familiar beggar caught his eye. The man was in his late fifties, with a prominent dusting of white through his thinning hair. His shabby clothes seemed too thin for this weather, and white plumes escaped from his breath on this chilly afternoon.

With barely a thought, Jude tossed a 20-note into his hat. The man gave him a grateful nod. “Sovereign, bless you, sir.”

After they had passed out of hearing distance, his friend finally spoke. “Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Toss away your hard-earned money. You’re not exactly rolling in cash yourself. Can you even afford to throw away that kind of money?”

“That man needed it more than I.”

This only earned a snort from his friend. “To spend on booze, no doubt. That’s why you wasted it. You never actually helped that man.”

“Does it matter?” Jude said, irritated. “It’s my money to give. And the man can spend it however he wishes.”

“The Sovereign helps only those who help themselves,” Kalquin said sagely. “You’re only making that man more dependent on begging. Why get a job if suckers like you throw money at them?”

“That isn’t actually in the scriptures, you know,” Jude said, irritated. And he would know. His mother made him memorize them in his youth. While he didn’t believe in the Sovereign, His teachings about helping your neighbor and the destitute resonated with him. “They say you should give without asking anything in return.”

But Kalquin only shook his head. “What you’re doing solves nothing. You should hear what Preacher Quinn has to say.”

“Here we go.” Sovereign preserve him.

“Kindness is fine, but if it doesn’t result in the betterment of others, it is wrong. For example, giving that beggar money means you helped perpetuate his alcoholism. Your naïve kindness helped him sin even further. Doesn’t that make your kindness a sin because you aided in that man’s transgressions? The Sovereign wants fruitful servants, not ones who only help the world’s darkness.”

“I’m not a believer, Kalquin,” Jude said pointedly.

“Okay, but you understand what I’m saying, right? You’re not helping that man by giving him money. You’re only feeding his alcoholism.”

“It doesn’t matter. That’s his choice.”

Besides, his friend had no proof that the beggar was an alcoholic or a drug user. He might have just fallen on hard times. The economy hadn’t been the strongest lately. He might have lost his job and fallen into destitution. Jude refused to believe the worst of people. He explained this to his friend, but Kalquin remained skeptical.

“I’m just saying, it doesn’t hurt to give to more fruitful causes,” Kalquin said. “Like the Church of New Dawn. They have wonderful outreach programs!”

“No, thanks.” He refused to line Quinn’s pockets.

Thankfully, they arrived at the food stalls, and they talked about more productive topics, like the Lionheart’s Pride. The new pitcher they got, Hearndale, had quite the throw. His confusing, lightning-fast pitches had struck out almost every batter during the Pride’s last game against the Vipers. Jude got his usual tacos, while Kalquin bought a well-dressed hot dog. The promenade’s food was cheap but good. The food stall owners made decent money.

After lunch, they returned to the office. It was situated in a squat, rundown building that’d once housed an insurance firm. Jude pushed himself through the narrow space between each cubicle to reach his work desk. Baseball paraphernalia decorated it, including a ball signed by Duke Graymark himself.

“How was lunch, hun?” a nasally voice from the next cubicle said.

“The usual, Pat,” Jude replied. Red, poofy hair and thick-brimmed spectacles eyed him over the cubicle wall.

“Good to hear, Jude. The editor wants to see you. Says there’s something wrong with the mole men story’s formatting.”

“Great. Okay.” He supposed he had written it in a hurry under the influence of too much coffee. “I’ll be there.” It shouldn’t be too hard to rewrite. It was only one, and the paper printed at five.

“Hey, Jude!” the editor, Hooven Beck, waved from behind the large computer screen he was tapping on. The huge man looked comical, hunched over with his head almost scraping the ceiling. His desk, as usual, was a total mess. It was a marvel he found anything.

“You needed to see me?”

“Actually, no. What I told Pat isn’t quite true. Your mole men story is great. The chief really liked it!”

“Then why ask me here?” Jude raised an eyebrow.

“Because Pat and I’s anniversary is coming up, and I need your help.”

“Oh, I suppose it’s been, what, five years? What do you need me for?”

Hooven leaned forward, his chair creaking in protest. His eyes darted around conspiratorially. “I need you to pick something up. All quiet-like. Then drop it off at my office tomorrow.”

“And you can’t do this yourself?”

“Well, sure. But this needs to be a surprise! I don’t want to risk the missus learning about it. It’d ruin everything!”

“Sure,” Jude rolled his eyes but smiled. As usual, the Weekly Truth’s editor was overdramatic. “What’s the package?” His tone also adopted a conspiratorial edge. Might as well join in the fun.

“A ring!” His editor’s eyes sparkled. “It’s nothing special, but it’s pretty enough.”

“I think she’ll approve.” Pat had a thing for cheap jewelry. She never seemed to go anywhere without an assortment of them, and they made her rather radiant despite their cheapness. Hooven was a lucky man.

After work, Jude left for downtown. The jewelry store was tricky to find, crammed between a sub shop and a traditional Ottomon clothing store.

“Greetings, sir. May I help you?” the man behind the counter said as the doorbell chimed when Jude entered. 

“I’m here for a pickup.” Jude eyed the various jewelry on display. Despite their relative inexpensiveness, it was an impressive assortment. He handed over the pickup slip Hooven had given him.

“Ah, yes. Be right back.” The salesman returned with a tiny jewelry box, one sized for a ring. According to his editor, it was a simple diamond ring with his wife’s initials engraved on it.

“Hooven’s wife will love this,” Jude said as the salesman opened the box to show it was the right ring.

“And he didn’t come himself?” the salesman asked curiously.

“It’s a secret he wants to spring on her. Anniversary.”

“Ah.” The salesman nodded in approval, accepting the cash Hooven had given Jude. After getting his change, Jude shoved the box in his suit pocket.

“A ring. I wonder if that’s something I can use,” Jude thought as he exited the shop. 

The streets were mostly empty. This part of downtown Lionheart usually didn’t get much traffic. He barely paid attention as the light turned green and crossed the street. 

“A cursed ring?” he mumbled to himself, “No, that’s just silly.” Besides, he preferred to avoid magic in his stories. “How about a child finding an alien’s wedding ring?”

A honk broke his concentration. Time slowed as something sped towards him. In his absentmindedness, he’d missed the truck that decided to run a red light. 

 His heart beat a mile a minute as he tried leaping out of the vehicle’s path. Although he just avoided the bumper, he’d thrown himself too hard. Pain lanced through his skull as he struck a parked car at full speed. Someone screamed, but it was muffled and indistinct. Blackness filled his vision, and he collapsed as it consumed him completely.

///

Pain. Pain was his entire existence. The fire was all-consuming. It burned Jude’s soul, yet never consumed him. It licked at him insistently but refused to end his suffering. Jude barely resembled a person, his skin charred beyond recognition. Yet not a single nerve had burned away, nor would it ever.

And the screams—the howls of the endless souls of the damned. They had purposely rejected salvation and now faced the same fate as Jude. 

There was no hope here. These people had abandoned the Sovereign, so He gave them exactly what they asked for: an eternal separation from His grace, forever. Time stretched on, each second its own millennium of torment.

“Please, water.” Anything to sate his thirst, to quench the pain, even for a second. But Jude knew he’d never get it. This place had no hope.

“Jude.”

“Huh?” He lifted his head, fearing what it might mean. Had those creatures come to torment him personally again? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

“Jude, stand up.”

Then it was all gone. The pain left him completely. It just vanished as though it had never existed, only a distant memory, a nightmare half-forgotten.

What was this place? Jude wondered. It was wondrous and quiet. Though only an empty white void, it was peaceful.

“Jude, my son. Welcome.”

The speaker drew Jude’s attention. His breath caught. The figure before him wore all white. He radiated power and glory. Bestowed on his head were three seven-pronged golden crowns, each horn ordained with seven different precious stones.

“Lord!” Jude cried out and worshipped the figure. From the ancient stories, he recognized this sacred person. It was the Angel of the Lord.

The Angel studied him for a long moment and smiled, pleased. Why, Jude couldn’t say. Never had he felt so dirty, so patiently unworthy. Compared to this person, a speck of dust had more worth. He trembled, terrified of what words of condemnation this holy one would give him. 

“Do not be afraid. Stand, Jude. The Sovereign has a special task for you. You will be His messenger to the lost people of the Ottomon.”

[jonathanvik]

Peripeteia

The Weekly Truth gives you everything you want to know about secret alien plots to replace people's pets or the sinister plot of the mantis people to take over the Earth! Jude Zimmer is a storyteller, a wordsmith for the fanciful. And that's fine. It doesn't pay well, but he loves his work.

But is that enough? Could there be a greater calling for his life? Jude doesn't think so. The divine might have other ideas. The One True God, the Sovereign, might have a calling for Jude that will change his nation forever. Can one man alter history? A tabloid writer, at that? Why not? With God, anything is possible. This is a story of faith, compassion, and spiritual revival.

This is a prequel story to Krisis. You don't have to read this story to understand Peripeteia. This story is set 400 years before the events of Krisis.

The cover art was created from this image: https://pixabay.com/photos/desert-mounts-nature-landscape-4775578/

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 37

“Stupid humans! They don’t realize how absolutely, positively doomed they are. So doomed, being doomed doesn’t even describe how much trouble they’re in!” Vera thought, then chided herself for babbling nonsense.

But fear rooted her in place. Vera tried desperately to ignore the rather sharp-looking tools on display behind an operating room window. It was all a bluff. They wouldn’t really kill her. It was out of the question! Still, doubt remained.

Her comrades had been silent, allowing Vera to stew in her thoughts and fears. They were too busy with their battle plan to bother with her. 

Beside her, a guard played on his phone like the girl next to him wasn’t about to be vivisected. Another just lay back, his eyes closed. Was he asleep? Did they not recognize the seriousness of the situation? Sandage was off somewhere for a meeting. And some Ectutai were outside in case any trouble happened. Not that she’d try anything with this stupid bomb collar. She scratched under it, resenting its presence. 

Only Cecilia seemed to pay attention to her, pretending she wasn’t sending the occasional scathing glare. Frankly, it was getting on Vera’s last nerve. What was she even doing here? To watch Vera get cut to pieces?

After another five minutes of this, Vera broke the silence. “What?!” She glared daggers at Cecilia.

“You know what,” Cecilia shot back, her words venomous.

“No, I don’t,” Vera said, just as stubborn. Their eyes met, and sparks seemed to shoot between them. She never realized how much she could dislike someone. Even the original Vera hadn’t been that close to this weirdo girl. She’d always been Rose’s friend.

An idea struck Vera, and her mouth widened into a wicked smile. “You realize we know all about you, right? That you were made in a lab? That you’re a freak?”

This caused the tall girl to stiffen, her expression turning icy. “Maybe. But I’ll be the reason your entire species is exterminated. I have knowledge even your hive mind can’t begin to comprehend.”

“Doubtful. We Altair are eternal. We’ve conquered countless worlds. What makes you different? Those scraps of knowledge won’t save you.”

“Is that right? Then why are you afraid of Rose? I saw your reaction to her. You were shaking in your boots.”

This earned a scowl from Vera. “I was caught off guard by her freaky eye. One person can’t change anything.”

“We’ll see. Scaredy-cat.”

That struck a nerve, and Vera shot to her feet, startling the person on the phone. Much to Vera’s bafflement, she realized its screen was blank. The person trying to sleep stood to full attention, gun already in his hand. Much to her shame, Vera realized they’d been playing her. They hadn’t been distracted at all. This must play into their plan to lure General Tarazed here.

“Sit down,” the man who wasn’t actually playing on his phone said. Vera sat down, grumbling about stupid, tricky humans.

“This still won’t make any difference,” Vera said stubbornly. She continued her staring contest with Cecilia.

“You’d think they would have acted by now,” Cecilia said, grumbling to herself. Vera had to admit, she was surprised too. Only about ten minutes remained, yet General Tarazed hadn’t acted. Where was he?

“Close. Calm. We will rescue you soon,” the General replied, finally breaking radio silence. Vera sighed in relief. She flinched as this caught Cecilia’s attention. Vera pretended to play with her nails.

“This was why I kept silent,” General Tarazed said, not hiding his obvious annoyance. “You are a terrible actor.”

“Yeah, stop messing things up, Aquilia!” Tseen Foo added. Vera fought hard to keep her annoyance off her expression. Still, it didn’t stop her from grumbling to herself.

More minutes passed, but Vera found herself antsy. Her leg twitched as she had trouble staying still.

“You have to go to the bathroom?” Cecilia said, her tone mocking. “Do Altair even need such a thing?”

“Quiet,” Vera shot back.

“Really, you’re acting like a toddler who can’t keep still,” Cecilia continued, pressing even harder. Vera opened her mouth for a scathing retort, but one of the guards spoke up. He’d been the one pretending to sleep.

“Simmer down, girls,” the guard was middle-aged and somewhat overweight, but his cool professionalism marked his true abilities.

“I’m trying, Mr. Beer. But she’s being a total jerk,” Cecilia replied.

“Me? I’m being a jerk?” This poured oil on Vera’s already smoldering temper.

“Stop it, both of you. Or would you rather I have you both sit in the corner?” Mr. Beer replied, his tone even. Cecilia scowled and looked away. Vera said nothing.

“Both you girls.” It was the Arab woman who’d accompanied Cecilia earlier. “What a racket you are making! I heard you from across the hallway.”

Cecilia didn’t reply, smoldering in her temper. “Just forget about Miss Al-Kindī.”

“What you’re doing is not good. This anger is poisonous,” the woman replied. “You’re right to be mad, but lashing out won’t help. This isn’t you, Cecilia. Feeding this anger is only destructive.” Again, Cecilia said nothing.

“Why do you even hate me so much, anyway?” Was it because she learned Vera was an Altair? Had she considered that a grievous betrayal?

“You know why,” Cecilia said, her tone measured but venomous. “Because of you.” Her words trailed off, too consumed with emotion.

“Please, Cecilia. Speak. Why are you angry?” Al-Kindī said coaxingly.

“Prince Imrele. You… you killed him,” Cecilia said, her words almost inaudible.

“Huh?” Vera blinked. “Didn’t you meet him only a couple of days ago?”

“Does it matter? I liked him! He was the first boy I…” Cecilia broke into sobs, and Al-Kindī held her tight, comforting her.

Vera stared, stunned. The prince’s death had hurt her that much? Unexpected guilt stabbed at her heart. She remembered how Rose liked to tease Cecilia about Prince Imrele being her boyfriend. Had it been more than just silly teasing? Cecilia really cared about him?

“Human. So fragile,” General Tarazed said with open disdain.

“Pathetic. Look at her cry!” Tseen Foo said, laughing.

Vera said nothing, her heart seizing in her chest at the display of raw grief. She’d never considered how much a person’s death might hurt someone.

“You’re an Altair,” General Tarazed admonished. “Forget this ridiculous sentimentality. Hold your head up high. We are the masters of the cosmos. One life, one death is a pittance.”

“Yes, sir.” Still, why did Vera feel so wretched? Was there something wrong with her?

“I was trapped in that pod too long. Yes, that’s it. It’s addled my brain.” Vera thought. 

She sat down and pointedly ignored the distraught Cecilia. Lord Tarazed was right. She needed to harden her heart. The concerns of some puny humans meant nothing. Despite how many times Vera repeated this to herself, the anxiety hidden in her heart refused to be extinguished.

“It’s time.” Prince Hallfar said as he entered. He paused as he caught the awkward mood in the room. Unlike the two alien guards trailing him, he wasn’t wearing his helmet. He softened when he saw the distraught Cecilia, then turned venomous when he looked at Vera. His words carried a nasty smile.

“It seems your fellow Altair don’t think I’m serious about killing you.” Vera’s heart skipped a beat as he pointed some strange gun at her. Unlike the pulse guns the Altair had seen them use earlier, this weapon was bulkier and had a somewhat cobbled-together appearance. Everyone backed away from her, creating some distance from the Altair.

“I-I thought you were planning to dissect me?” Vera backed away. She jolted as her back collided with a wall.

“A pretense to lure out your allies. You were always going to die here.” Prince Imrele’s voice contained no emotion, only steel.

“No!” Vera glanced frantically around the room, but no one met her gaze. Some, like Cecilia, only glared at her with pure hatred.

Prince Hallfar continued, “They specially designed this weapon to kill your kind, Altair. It’s based on the chemical they used to kill your last General, Altair Alpha. Our scientists have improved on its design. This will be an excellent test run against a real Altair.”

Any semblance of calm evaporated, and Vera fell to pieces. She begged and pleaded for them not to kill her. She knew what had happened to the Altair they were referring to. Somehow, Okab had lost all connection to the hive mind. They’d lost all track of him after that. Her peers had speculated that it had driven him insane. They planned to do it to her, too?

“Please,” Vera couldn’t control the shaking of her body. “I-I don’t want to die.”

But Prince Hallfar remained unmoved by her pleas. In fact, he seemed to take pleasure in her suffering.

“Down,” a voice said in her mind.

Vera didn’t hesitate, dropping like a rock and covering her head with her arms. The Ectutai’s weapon sprayed some green goop in her direction, but the ground rumbled beneath her before a massive tentacle reached around her to protect her. Another speared through the building, and rubble filled her vision. With surprising tenderness, the tendril pulled her away to safety, leaving a collapsing building in its wake.

“Whoa.” Vera marveled as she rose dozens of stories into the air. The view was fantastic, stretching in each direction for miles. She laughed, beyond relieved. Both arms pumped into the air. “Yes, take that, humans!”

But her exhilaration was short-lived as a red monstrosity dashed in their direction. Its speed boggled the mind. Despite its size and considerable bulk, it moved with gazelle-like grace.

“The Red Devil.” Vera’s breath caught.

Gravel sprayed everywhere as it skidded to a halt, preparing its drill weapon to fight. Through its eyeless face, General Tarazed stared down his opponent.

“Be careful, General,” Vera noticed the red monster had some odd attachment she’d never seen before. What the heck was that? A new weapon? “Where’s Tseen Foo?”

“Elsewhere.” But there was a cold smile as General Tarazed spoke. Out loud, the General continued. “That’s where my ally is. I wonder what he’s doing?”

Despite showing no expression on its demonic face, Vera sensed shock and apprehension. Somehow, those simple words had rattled Rose.

“What’d you do?” Vera asked.

“Tseen Foo is off in the city called Minneapolis, clearing it free of its human parasites. No doubt her allies have already radioed her about it. Now she has a choice: avenge her fellow LUVOLT members or allow millions to die. Even if she stays to fight, the pressure of the Minneapolis attack will make her reckless, a perfect distraction.”

“Rose abandons Cecilia and the others, and we take them. Or she dies here, and we achieve both objectives. We win, regardless of what she does.”

///

“What? No!” Rose’s hands visibly shook as she heard the news. Right as she was about to confront the monster attacking her friends, she’d gotten the news about the Altair attack on Minneapolis. It was all over the local news. She froze in indecision.

The bunker had already collapsed. Who knew how many survived? Cecilia and Sandage were in there! But the other Altair would kill millions. It was a no-win scenario. Either way, she lost.

“I can’t do this.” Rose covered her face with her hands, falling into despair. She was only a middle schooler. This sort of decision shouldn’t fall on her.

“Fight, Rose.” A voice said, breaking Rose from her despair.

“Stella?”

“You must fight.” The vTuber appeared on one of her screens. “The Twin Cities attack is only a distraction. It’s another one of the Altair general’s demoralizing tricks. You can’t let him play games with you. Rose, you must defeat this jerk once and for all.”

“But what about Minneapolis?”

A confident smile grew on Macauley’s lips. “I think the other Altair will get a little distracted once you punch its boss’s face in.”

“I see.” It might encourage the second Altair to rush to its boss’s help. Besides, the second might just run away when Rose approached, leaving her with no real victory at all. And killing another Altair general would be a huge dent in the Altair war effort.

“Fine.” Rose gripped Luyten V’s control stick hard enough that its metal creaked. “I’ll teach these guys what it means to mess with Earth.” And Rose realized she couldn’t bring herself to abandon Cecilia, whatever condition she was in.

The ground boomed as she charged at the monstrosity known as Altair Beta. Its many tendrils, with their needle-like barbs, further tore apart the bunker, mocking her with its casual cruelty. 

“How about this?” Luyten V threw a punch at the Altair general’s tentacled mouth, but the monster slid away with surprising speed considering its size. In the span of a breath, it had already created distance between them. Before Rose could even blink, the monster was behind her, and a tree-like tendril wrapped around Luyten V’s neck. Each one was tipped with wicked-looking spikes that left deep cuts on impact. Damage reports screamed as the barbs tore into her robot’s metal neck. Her opponent was trying to finish her in a single move by tearing off Luyten V’s head.

Metal squealed as the pressure tightened, her alarm systems screaming bloody murder.

“Tsk, so that’s the play, eh?” Rose’s mouth extended into her shark smile. “You’ve been running away too much, Beta. You really think I’d be that easy to kill? How about we test our new toy, partner?”

The entire world became more vivid as Rose joined with Luyten V. Needle-like pain stabbed into her neck, and her breathing became more difficult as the grip around her windpipe tightened. But her robot’s strength became hers as Rose entered Stage 2 of Full Synchronization Mode. Her limbs became mighty, giving her the power to crush all her enemies. This one had earned her considerable ire.

With one fluid movement, Luyten V released her whip and whirled it around with impossible precision. Her opponent howled an inhuman cry as the hook dug into its meaty flesh, releasing her. It staggered, startled by the unexpected pain. Tentacles were ground to green mush as a fist struck Beta’s mouth resulting in a spray of viscous liquid. Its eyes became considerably less smug as Beta realized Luyten V could hurt it.

Rose’s blood burned through her veins like fire as she pounced on her foe, yet it was more exciting than painful. Beta found itself on the defensive as Luyten V’s fists flew at it. Its bloated, gray body expanded wider, its mass the only thing her viewscreen could see. Tentacles lashed out from everywhere as the Altair’s body reached around her, each wrapping around Luyten V’s arms. Rose’s arms throbbed as the tendrils tightened. More grew from Beta’s back to restrain her further, giving her no possibility of movement as it pinned her legs next.

Blank eyes seemed to gloat as Beta’s face tentacles gathered together to create a spear to lance through her robot’s chest, ready for a lethal blow. Other barbed tendrils lashed out to keep her further distracted.

“You really think you’ve got me caught, huh?” Because Rose noticed something that the Altair had overlooked. Luyten V was never defenseless.

Beta moved in for the kill, its face spear aimed right at Luyten V’s cockpit. Rose remained still, letting her opponent commit to a move they couldn’t take back. Then she activated her arm drill. While some tendrils had snaked around it to keep it restrained, her opponent had underestimated how powerfully it could spin. Tendrils turned to mush as her drill whirled at full speed. Still, her opponent seemed confident that her restraint was enough to make this irrelevant. Beta was wrong.

“Full engines!” Rose activated the rocket boosters on Luyten V’s back, guiding it left. Thanks to their connection, Rose calculated the exact moment she’d need to dodge away. Metal squealed as the spear slashed past her chest armor. It left a deep gouge, but not deep enough to hit the cockpit. The position did, however, leave Beta open for a nasty counterattack.

“This is for Vera!” Beta howled as her drill tore right into her opponent’s neck. Further tendrils got caught in her drill, trapping her opponent even further. Alien blood spattered against her robot’s face as flesh got turned to mincemeat.

Her opponent roared in pain and fear, realizing its mistake. Beta tried to rear away as the drill tore into its neck, but Rose was ready for this. As it fled, a hoof drove into its leg. It was lodged so deeply, its metal tip was visible from the other end. The ground thundered as Beta’s massive mass tumbled to the ground. 

“You’re clever, Beta,” Rose said as her opponent scrambled away. Alien blood spilled as part of Beta’s legs ripping off in its desperate attempt to flee. The General had lost all appetite for battle. 

But the Red Devil had marked it for death. There was no escape. “But not a fighter, it seems. Goodbye.” Rose’s blood sang as her robot’s thrusters ignited, and she pounced like a bird of prey. 

“Dynaspike!” A spear lanced from Luyten V’s palm, spearing Beta’s head from behind. An inhuman groan escaped whatever remained of the Altair’s face, its body flailing in its death throes. Its massive, swollen body began to lose all substance as it pixelated. Their universe had rejected its existence. This was proof its kind didn’t belong here. Its body continued to crumble until the General became nothing but a memory, little beyond an alien stain.

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Epilogue

“And may the Sovereign hold him in His hands, loved forever by our Lord. May this soul remember, while his time on this Earth has been brief, he has touched uncountable people. And those who loved him will never forget him.”

“That’s more true than most,” Kallane thought, wiping away a tear.

She still remembered the first day she’d met him, laughing in his cheesy, cheap suit. He’d gotten fired from his job as an accountant. His boss had used Matthias as a scapegoat to hide his embezzlement. Not that this saved Matthias’s boss in the end. He’d gotten found out, anyway.

It’d driven the poor Matthias over the edge, driving him to try to kill himself. Only her mother’s gentle words had guided him off the edge. It turned out the firing hadn’t been Matthias’s only problem. His life had entered a serious decline, and losing his once-prestigious job had been the final straw.

On a whim, Kallane’s mother had invited him to live with them. She’d said a change of scenery might offer him a different perspective. What an understatement that’d been. Despite the solemn situation, it brought a smile. It was funny how the Sovereign worked His ways. 

As the priest continued his elegy, hundreds of happy moments flashed through Kallane’s head.  While a place to mourn, funerals were also celebrations. A person’s life offered more than just tragedy.

“Back when he started living with us, Matthias became super self-conscious living among Ottomon. So he got this cockamamie idea that he really needed to fit in. He’d gotten the brilliant idea to use a marker to give himself markings like our people. Thankfully, my Mom caught him in the act before he did anything really stupid. My Mom asked him point-blank if this was really a good idea. He admitted it wasn’t.”

This earned a hearty laugh from the audience. While brilliant, Matthias sometimes got really bad ideas stuck in his head. Her mother shared another amusing story about the time she’d taught him Ottomon cooking, and he accidentally put yeast into a dish that explicitly didn’t have it. His ears burned for hours after the tongue-lashing she gave him.

“I vaguely remember that.” It always amazed Kallene what little moments stuck in people’s heads. 

Brave, handsome Rocke spoke next. He looked rather dashing in his black suit, lent to him by Halkken of all people. It’d belonged to the man’s father, apparently.

“Matthias saved my life. He thought I saved his, but I’m the one who really needed saving. Before he came into my life, I coasted along, driftless, just doing whatever people told me.” Rocke’s eyes were red from crying, his voice cracking as he spoke. His grandmother, a short, boxy woman, shot him an encouraging nod before he continued. 

“But Matthias taught me differently. He showed me I could be something other than what my parents wanted. That I could forge my own path. I just wish he’d been with us longer, but I will cherish every second  we spent together for the rest of my life.”

When Rocke returned to the pews, Kallane grabbed his hand and squeezed it. He gave her a nod full of thanks. His grandmother just smiled, pleased with the young man Rocke had become. Their reunion had been quite the spectacle, with plenty of crying and hugs and words long denied. They’d been forced apart too long.

“Brave man, Matthias,” Nitao said before sitting down again. A fitting statement from the usually stoic Konquellian.

“He was brave, Matt,” a balding middle-aged man with watery eyes said. He held his bowler hat in his hands, wringing it as he spoke. “I’m ashamed to say it, but I always considered him this annoying tag-along kid. But then he ran off and did all these amazing things behind my back. I wish I could have been alongside him while he was doing them. When I see this crowd, I can see he was very loved. I wish things could have been better between us, but I’m proud to be your brother, Matt.”

Her mother gave the man a pat on the hand as he sat down, and Matthias’ brother, Jamie gave her a grateful nod. He placed his misshapen hat on his bald scalp and dabbed at his eyes with a handkerchief. 

Much to her surprise, ex-Police Chief Halkken spoke next. Beside him stood the dutiful Shiisaa, his assistant.

“I unfortunately never got a chance to meet Matthias Daliven,” Halkken said.

“Then why are you speaking?” Kallane thought, exasperated. Must that man always talk without thinking? And at a funeral? 

“But I would like to offer him an apology on behalf of the Vladus Police Force. We wronged you. We pursued you instead of listening to you. And… we paid the consequences.” Halkken gave a deep bow. “For that, you have my deepest apology.” His assistant, Shiisaa, joined in the bow.

“Huh?” Kallane stared, surprised.

Of course, much had happened since Vladus’s demise. The new acting Prime Minister, Vence, had quickly reversed many of his predecessor’s policies. He completely denounced the de-citizenship of the Ottomon people, completely reinstating them. He’d also made other promises to make recompense for that treatment.

Kallane wasn’t optimistic that the acting Prime Minister would fulfill those promises. The promises of any politician were basically smoke. Besides, some people weren’t happy with this reversal, claiming it was empty political pandering to an irrelevant minority. She’d heard some ugly rumors about a new party called the Wolves of Freedom that embraced this Anti-Ottomon mindset to its fullest. They blamed Vladus’ destruction fully on her people, as if they could summon fire or whatever. She feared it could turn ugly. Too many people were listening to them. It could literally tear this country apart. 

Others weren’t convinced at all that Vladus wasn’t supernatural at all, claiming a previously unknown fissure caused it. While some scientists scoffed at this explanation, others had embraced it. They refused to believe Matthias’ prophetic words, claiming it was only a coincidence. They’d find the scientific reasoning soon enough, they claimed. Fools, all of them. Some people refused to believe even the evidence of their own eyes. 

 Still, she had to give the new Prime Minister some credit. He’d at least sent work crews to Hagion to make the budding town more hospitable, despite getting some political heat for it.  They’d already constructed a town hall, with elections coming soon. Kallane beamed with pride that her mother was one of the candidates for mayor. It suited her.

“Into your hands, mighty Sovereign, we commend your servant.” The priest said. “Acknowledge, we humbly pray, a sheep of your own fold, a lamb of your own flock. May your justice and glory reign forever. Amen.”

After the funeral ended, the mourners gathered in an outdoor plaza for cold ham sandwiches on hamburger buns, lemonade, and coffee. It was quite a gathering. Almost the entire Ottomon population had come to celebrate Matthias’s life. He’d touched many.

She smiled as Rocke chatted with Jamison, another Uppie saved by Matthias’s words. The other survivors of the city also hung around him. It made Kallane so proud of him. Rocke was working with some private contractors to help build proper buildings for the Ottomon people. While he hadn’t graduated college, he’s gained enough business know-how for the job. The inheritance from his late father didn’t hurt either.

“Poor Rocke, though.” How his father died was just gruesome. His ship had crashed outside Vladus in a fiery heap. When the Vanderfall forces discovered it, they found wild dogs feasting on his father’s intestines. Gruesome. And poor Rocke’s brother had died too in the crash, though it’d taken dental records to identify his charred body.

His family’s situation was all messed up. Rocke’s sister had been hospitalized after some sudden complications following a miscarriage. He and his grandmother were leaving to see her after the funeral. Rocke hadn’t seen his sister in years. They deserved to grieve together.

Huh? Kallane frowned as something caught her eye.

“Is something wrong?” Rocke asked when he noticed her expression.

“It’s nothing.” Kallane just sighed. For whatever reason, Rocke’s ex didn’t want to be seen.

“Is it really so hard to stay connected to your friends, Jafia?” Kallane thought. And what ever happened to her partner? He disappeared soon after they arrived in Hagion.

Unsurprisingly, Vanderfall called off its invasion. Officially, they expressed grave solidarity with the UOP after the tragedy that claimed over 9 million lives. With the city just now cooling down, the exact death toll was still unknown. Despite their past grievances, Vanderfall offered humanitarian support. Any war seemed pointless after this tragedy. Besides, the current UOP wasn’t a threat to anyone. 

“What a sad existence.” Kallane shook her head. Jafia appeared convinced happiness was forever lost to her. Maybe one day she’d learn differently. Kallane knew Rocke still cared about her. But for whatever reason, Jafia couldn’t allow herself to do the same.

“Sorry?” Rocke asked.

“Nothing,” Kallane grabbed her new boyfriend’s arm. If Jafia wanted to be stupid, it was her choice. It was a sad truth, but people often trapped themselves in prisons of their own design. “Should we get going? Our flight takes off in an hour, right?”

Kallane, however, wouldn’t make that mistake. While the UOP had hurt her people dearly, she refused to live in anger and hatred. Rocke proved to her that not all Uppies were empty-headed buffoons. Until she met him, she hadn’t really believed the Sovereign’s teachings that redemption was for all people, not just Ottomon. It was thanks to the Sovereign’s love that she found true love. And that love made her free.

///

Proverbs 28:13

Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper, but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy.

///

And that's it. Thank you for reading Krisis and joining me on this journey as I wrote this story. This isn't the end, though. I plan to write a prequel story set in the same universe sometime soon. While Krisis was about judgment, the next one will be about revival. So stay tuned. I will start writing it pretty soon. And if you have any questions, please post them in the comment section. I will be happy to answer them. 

Until next time,

Jonathanvik

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Chapter 31

“Suffocating heat washed over Rocke, so intense he had trouble breathing. Yet, his legs remained rooted in place as he gazed at what remained of one of the world’s greatest, mightiest cities. His brain had trouble comprehending what his eyes were showing him. It just seemed too impossible.

While he’d believed the Sovereign would unleash His just judgment on Vladus, Rocke supposed a part of him still doubted. The reality was beyond anything he’d ever expected. It further astonished him that, while lava washed across the city like a cleansing tide, it just stopped at the city edge, inches away from where they’d crashed their motorcycle. It was like, since they’d left Vladus, the molten liquid had no interest in them.

Airships, helicopters, and anything airborne just burst into flames before crashing in a smoldering heap. Once the Sovereign began His judgment, nothing would survive in the city. Any attempt to escape His wrath was useless. Even a familiar police helicopter met a fiery end as it tried weaving across the air, like it was dodging fireballs only it could see.

“I…” Shiisaa remained just as frozen, eyes wide. Words truly failed her, for what words could describe this?

Rocke gasped as before he could stop him an officer lost all reason and dove into lava like a man possessed. It extinguished him instantly, ending him without a sound. Others just collapsed, any interest in their captives forgotten.

“Thus ends the great Vladus,” Maple said, her tone somber. Fire reflected in her eyes as she watched her God’s judgment. “It is truly terrible in every sense of the word. The poor fools, if only they’d listened.”

Nitao only nodded, his head downcast. In complete silence, he retrieved the cuff keys from an officer’s pocket and freed himself. The officer didn’t even notice; his eyes devoid of any life. The Konquellian freed Rocke and Maple next.

Vladus’s demise would change everything. It was the center of UOP commerce and its political head. Prime Minister Luciest might have died too. This might spell a death blow to the entire country. And what about Vanderfall’s invasion plans?

“Dear Sovereign.” Rocke froze in place as a sudden realization struck him. His father was dead. This was an undeniable truth he sensed down to his bones. Unexpected tears stung his eyes. While he’d often despised his dad, he was still his father. He loved him, despite how badly he’d treated his son. Now he was gone forever.

“Come here.” Maple hugged Rocke. He sobbed onto her shoulder, happy to be a buffer for his raw grief.

Much to Rocke’s surprise, Nitao joined in, his hug strong and kind. “It’s okay, brother. Cry.”

 While the Konquellian sometimes had trouble articulating his meaning, words failed where actions shone. Rocke gripped them both like a man drowning. It made him realize how much he’d grown to depend on them both, how they’d both become his family. How strange, yet wonderful. It reminded him that he wasn’t alone.

“Thank you,” Rocke said, hiccupping. The deep weight hadn’t lifted. The burden seemed lighter. “What now?”

“We move forward,” Maple said, patting Rocke’s hands. “No looking back.” Nitao smiled and nodded.

“Yeah,” Rocke gave a weak nod. “Where to?” And how would they even get there? The nearest city was dozens of miles away.

“Hagion,” Maple replied. “I imagine Kallane and the others are waiting for us there.”

The newly made Ottomon refugee city sounded like a good choice. “But how are you sure Kallane survived?”

“I know,” Maple replied, her eyes twinkling. It must be her motherly instinct. “And we have plenty of transport.” She gestured to the still-running police cars.

“What about them?” Rocke gestured to the stunned police officers. They weren’t in a good way. They couldn’t cope with the shock of Vladus’ ruin.

“We bring them along,” Like a mother guiding a lost child, Maple helped them each into the rear seat of the police vehicles. That’d keep them from causing trouble if they regained their senses.

A slight smile grew on Rocke’s lips. Despite hating the UOP and everything it stood for, Maple remained kind.

After securing Shiisaa and the other officers, Rocke jumped into the driver’s seat of a cop car. The controls seemed simple enough, and he activated the auto-drive system and directed it toward Hagion. The others followed him in the other police vehicles as they took the main road.

“Goodbye, Vladus.” But Rocke didn’t look into his rear-view mirror at the city. Maple was right. He needed to look forward. He wiped away tears, his tattered heart still aching. “And goodbye… father. I love you. Always will.”

///

“Should we keep going?” Rocke asked with some apprehension. 

A group of metal buildings were approaching in the distance, but that wasn’t his cause for concern. The tanks scattered across the town’s border were. 

“We approach. It’ll be okay. I don’t think they’re enemies, Rocke,” Maple replied over the police transponder.

“Yeah, but what are Vanderfall forces doing in Hagion?” Rocke asked aloud. “And how will they respond when we approach in Vladus police cars?” He supposed they probably wouldn’t open fire, but they’d ask awkward questions.

“They must be using the town as a headquarters,” While the deputy had regained some of her former self, Shiisaa had spoken little during the trip.

“It makes sense.” No doubt Vladus’s destruction put a halt to their invasion plans. They needed somewhere to plan while their superiors worked out their next move. 

Hagion was about as shabby as Rocke had suspected. Most of its buildings were constructed from sheets of metal or random pieces of lumber. Considering its hasty construction for the exiled Ottomon population, it wasn’t surprising. Still, life found a way. Despite their dire circumstances, the people here thrived, making the best of a bad situation. Rocke even saw an old-fashioned outdoor market. Seeing children laughing and playing outside lightened the weight on Rocke’s heavy heart.

Military transports were scattered across the town. The logo of a fox announced them as part of the Vanderfall military. Troops wearing their logo were milling about, many holding weapons. They didn’t seem like military occupiers, though; more like peacekeepers. 

One trooper approached as three Vladus police cars parked outside the town, though he kept his weapon lowered. He seemed more curious than threatening, especially when Maple pulled down her hood to reveal her Ottomon tattoos.

“Are you survivors from Vladus?” The soldier raised an eyebrow at the sullen police officers in the back seats. “With quite the story to tell, I imagine. Wait here. I’ll call my superior.”

“What should we even tell them, Maple?” They were escaped criminals, after all.

“The truth,” Maple replied. “It’ll sort itself out.”

“I suppose.” Would Vanderfall even care about some escaped criminals? Part of Rocke really hoped Jafia was still alive. She would easily vouch for them.

“You must be the infamous Rocke Ralss?” a man with a thick, bristly mustache in a crisp military uniform said as he approached. As Rocke exited the car, the man extended a hand and shook it warmly.

“Yes, you know me?” Rocke asked. His other friends joined him outside.

“Of course,” the military man said. “You’re the freedom fighter who’s been fighting for the rights of the Ottomon people. The people of Hagion have done nothing but sing your praises. The name’s Karkaf Jenrus, general of the Vanderfall army.”

“Have they?” Rocke said, somewhat self-consciously. Had he really become that famous? Some Ottomon considered him the chosen warrior of the Sovereign, but Rocke never realized they praised him this much.

“I heard they arrested you, but I see you’ve escaped.” General Jenrus gave Rocke a sly smile as he peeked over at the imprisoned police officers.

“Something like that. It’s a long story,” Rocke said, sighing. “What about them?”

“Good question.” General Jenrus rubbed his chin. “But don’t worry, we’ll just lock them up for now. With the entire UOP in shambles, everything’s up in the air right now.”

That wasn’t an exaggeration. They’d heard hundreds of conflicting reports on the news. Many thought Prime Minister Luciest dead. A man named Martkin Vence had taken leadership until they had more answers. Rocke wondered if the UOP could even survive. About 75 percent of the country’s major political leaders had died in Vladus’s destruction.

“Okay, just be easy on them,” Rocke said, his voice soft. “They’ve been through a lot. They saw their entire home city destroyed.” The terrible sight of that poor officer silently ending himself echoed through his mind unbidden. 

“We will,” the general said, not unkindly. “You were there when the event happened? I’ve gotten so many conflicting reports. Some even claim they saw a winged figure.”

“Oh?” Rocke said, astonished. A winged figure, like in the ancient stories? Did such things exist? “I’ll tell you what I can.”

“Wonderful.” General Jenrus motioned to his soldiers to apprehend the captive police officers. Shiisaa and her fellow officers didn’t resist as soldiers took them away. “The higher-ups are still working out our next step. So, we’re sitting on our hands right now. As you can imagine, Vladus’s destruction has changed their plans.”

“I can imagine.” Rocke hesitated. “Have you heard anything from someone named Jafia? She, uh, works for you. I’m not sure if she escaped before Vladus’ destruction.”

“Jafia?” The general smiled. “She’s the reason I knew you’d be along shortly. This way.”

And there she was as Rocke entered the makeshift shelter that Vanderfall were using as a command center. His ex bolted to her feet as soon as she spotted him and embraced him in an enormous hug.

“Jafia, you’re alive,” Rocke said, a weight lifted from his heart. “How did you escape? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’ve had an ordeal, but I’m fine.” An awkward pause hung between them. Rocke wasn’t sure how to proceed. While overjoyed to reunite with her, Rocke hadn’t forgotten his ex was a Vanderfall spy. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t overlook that.

“I…” Before Jafia could finish, someone charged into the command center.

“Rocke!”

Before Rocke even registered what happened, Kallane’s lips touched his, and she kissed him hard. Then she hugged him tight, like he’d float away if she let go.

“Uh.” Rocke gapped, lost for words. While he’d known Kallane cared about him, he hadn’t realized she liked him that much. Still, he held her tight, relieved she was okay. “I’m fine, Kallane. I’m fine.”

“Thank the Sovereign.” Finally, Kallane released him, tears of joy dripping down her face. “And Mom, thank goodness you’re safe too!” She shared a hug with her mother next. It was a tender moment as Maple stroked her daughter’s hair.

“Quite the family reunion.” A familiar voice spoke, and Rocke boggled as Police Chief Halkken entered.

“What are you doing here?” Rocke said, utterly baffled.

“Rocke, dear.” Kallane suddenly grabbed his arm and pulled him close. She wasn’t so pleased to see the police chief. “It’s a long story. He kind of tagged along as we escaped Vladus.”

Kallane sighed. “It was Jafia’s idea.”

“Hmph. I couldn’t just leave him to die,” Jafia replied.

“Your luck is astonishing. Providence must be watching over you.” Halkken beamed at Rocke, but he seemed different. The police chief had lost his usual exuberance. He seemed more somber now, pain hiding behind his eyes. “It’s odd finding refuge in an enemy camp. I’m surprised you haven’t thrown me in chains.”

“Don’t worry. I have no intention of starting a fight,” General Jenrus said. “I’ve sent some of my troops to help with search and rescue, but… I fear there isn’t anything we can save. Vladus is hot. We dare not even enter the city. Even flying over it is too dangerous.” Other rescue efforts had also been stymied. 

“Yeah,” The police chief nodded, his tone somber. His expression turned distant. “Rocke, you were right. We should have listened to you and Matthias Daliven. We brought this upon ourselves. I swore an oath to uphold the law, but I hated what my people did to the Demons, and… No, I suppose that’s no excuse. Whatever it takes, I’m making up for my mistakes.”

“The Sovereign believes all are capable of redemption. You only need to seek it and ask for forgiveness,” Maple said, her tone serious.

“Yeah, I just wish…” Halkken trailed off before shaking his head. “Move forward. That’s all I can do. General, your men took away my dear Shiisaa. I hope your men will treat her with due respect. After this tragedy, our people should be friends, not enemies. I’d rather put our bad blood behind us.”

“Agreed,” General Jenrus scratched the back of his neck. “I only hope the rest of my kinsmen will agree. Still, what crazy business. Divine retribution by a wrathful god? I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

The group broke into a philosophical discussion, but Rocke wandered away. He decided he needed some alone time. Besides, he wanted to see the town he’d inadvertently created.

The more he wandered the small town, the more he became impressed by the Ottomon people’s resilience. In this barren wilderness, they’d made life flourish. He’d even seen patches of land being tilled to grow crops. Rocke wondered what Hagion would be like decades later.

Much to his delight, Rocke found some non-Ottomon people dwelling in the town. They greeted him warmly.

“I have to say, I’m amazed anyone escaped that place alive. They say you left minutes before the disaster struck?” The survivor, Jamison, said. 

“Something like that,” Rocke gave a weak smile. “What brings you here?”

“Well, I heard that old man’s warning about Vladus’s destruction, and it struck a chord with me.” The joy sapped from the survivor’s face. “I got my parents out, but no one else believed me. They thought I was crazy. Or too busy not caring about anything.”

“Yeah,” Rocke shared his fellow countryman’s grief. No one had believed his warnings either, to their peril.

“So, I came here. Thought I might do some good for the Ottomon. How our politicians treated them was shameful.”

“Yeah, I hope to fix that too.” Strangely, the so-called Demons had become his people.

“Here’s to working together.” Jamison shook Rocke’s hand heartily. They were survivors of Vladus, and that tragedy had bonded them. 

Rocke spoke with the other survivors. Some had taken Matthias’s warning to heart; others were just lucky. One couple had been driving home when the disaster struck. The Vanderfall forces had brought them here until they found better accommodations. They still seemed shell-shocked, unsurprisingly considering they’d seen Vladus go up in literal flames before their eyes.

“Did we cause this?” the husband said as he gripped his wife’s hand tight. “I thought it was unfair how they shoved all those people out. And then everything…”

“We have to make things right. Rebuild Vladus into something better. Something we can be proud of.” It was a good goal. Matthias would have approved. Jamison enthusiastically agreed with him.

After a lot of handshaking, condolences, and encouraging words, Rocke found himself alone again. He’d wandered to the edge of town. He stared out into the wilderness, lost in his thoughts. Someone sidled up to him.

“Rocke, you’re a good leader,” Jafia said. “You gave those people hope and a purpose.”

“You watched all that?”

“I enjoy watching people. I’m good at it.” A silence hung between them before Jafia spoke again. “I need to tell you something.”

“I already know. Chief Halkken told me about it. You’re a Vanderfall spy.”

“I figured.” Jafia breathed out a long sigh. “And it’s true. I came to Vladus to help destabilize the political system before the invasion. A waste of effort in retrospect.”

“Did we even have anything?” Rocke said, getting to the point.

“Honestly, I’m not sure. I like you a lot, Rocke, but those conversations with the Vladus survivors showed me how different our worlds are. I’m a murderer, Rocke. There’s no way around that. I’ve killed people in cold blood. But you, you’re a builder, a healer. The world needs more people like you than me, Rocke.”

Rocke nodded. “I suppose I always felt a certain distance between us. You had your secrets.”

“Are you mad at me? I swear I wasn’t using you. I enjoyed our time together.”

Rocke considered this before responding. “I suppose I’m not. But can it work between us?”

“It shouldn’t. You should be with Kallane. If you haven’t noticed, she’s crazy about you.”

“Yeah.” Rocke still tasted her on his lips. It differed greatly from how Jafia had kissed him. He found that he rather liked it. Rocke admired the Ottomon woman. He flushed as Jafia shot him a knowing smile. “Are you sure you’re okay with it?”

“Not really. But you deserve better than me.” Jafia walked away from Rocke. He frowned. Was there guilt in her eyes? Was there some other secret she wasn’t telling him?

But Rocke didn’t press the issue. “Have a good life, Jafia. Despite everything, I still consider you a friend.”

“Thanks.” Then she disappeared into a nearby alley. 

Rocke’s heart ached, but a simple truth struck him. He’d likely never see Jafia again. It was her way. He knew this down to his core. He only prayed she’d live a good life. 

“Goodbye Jafia.” 

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 36

“A well-devised idea,” Prince Hallfar replied, totally dashing Rose’s last hope. He wore a pleased smile as he crossed his suited arms. “The Altair won’t be able to resist it.”

“Even him?” Rose thought. After the Velgr incident, she’d hoped the Ectutai prince would be reluctant to send Cecilia into any further danger. No luck. While somewhat reluctant, even the general had agreed to use Cecilia as bait to lure Altair Beta into a trap. It seemed the adults’ minds were set.

“She’ll be okay.” Sandage put a comforting hand on Rose’s shoulder. “We’ll minimize the danger to her as much as possible.”

“Yes.” Prince Hallfar said. “I will personally ensure no harm comes to Cecilia, you have my word.”

“Okay.” Rose surrendered, knowing further protest wouldn’t do any good. 

“Me and my stupid mouth,” she thought.

“With one of Beta’s cohorts, designated Altair 2, off in space, this is our best opportunity to strike.” General Kuiper said.

“Two on one is definitely better odds.” Though Rose wished it hadn’t cost Prince Imrele his life. Still, she’d use this opportunity for some much-needed retribution—for the real Vera’s sake.

“Where do you want me?” Cecilia’s expression was stony. Since the Velgr incident, she barely smiled, despite Rose’s best efforts. An inferno seemed to burn within her, barely contained.

“Have you decided the fight’s location?” Rose asked.

“We have. Thankfully, Cecilia’s involvement won’t alter our plan much.” General Kuiper pulled up a map on a monitor. 

Rose recognized it as the outskirts of her town—a disused quarry. It would keep any innocents away from the fighting. He pointed to a dinky, rusty shack inside the quarry. “We’ve modified this into a makeshift bunker and safe house. We’d originally planned to use it for an emergency. We’ve decided it’d be the best location for our trap.”

“A quarry would give Luyten V plenty of hiding spots,” Rose said, considering. “I can dig underground and spring out when ready.”

“Excellent suggestion, Miss Brahe.” The general shot her an approving smile. “Our pretense is that it’s a secret medical facility we’ll use to dissect our Altair captive. There’s a bomb attached to her neck if she attempts anything.”

“Really?” Rose forced a smile. “Which could blow Cecilia to kingdom come?”

“We’ll have to risk it,” Cecilia said. “I’ll be careful. What’s my reason for being there?”

“To keep you safe,” Sandage only offered a slight shrug. “It is all pretense, after all. We’ll make sure Pyrite sees you and tells her boss through the hive mind. The Ectutai have already sedated her. They’re bringing her to the planet now.”

“May I suggest something?” a familiar feminine voice said, startling everyone, even the prince. A figure appeared on the screen with the map, giving everyone a friendly wave.

“Majayplay,” Prince Hallfar said, his breath catching. “Not quite what I expected.” He gave the cartoonish avatar a critical study. “Not an old woman this time?”

“Sorry?” Stella, also known as Macauley, said, blinking.

“You know what I’m talking about, Majayplay,” Prince Hallfar replied. “It is the ancient name my people gave you.”

“I’ve had many names. So many, I’ve lost track,” Macauley said enigmatically. “Macauley is fine for now.”

“You deny you’ve been to my planet, Ectutai?” Prince Hallfar pressed.

But Macauley only changed the subject, like Stella always did on her stream. She liked to make herself difficult to pin down. Straight questions often got tangled answers. “What’s this I hear about you using Vera as bait? Mighty reckless, especially with poor, young Cecilia on the line. You should be ashamed! Using a child like that!”

“I can handle it,” Cecilia’s voice had some heat. “Like you’re doing anything to stop the Altair!”

“You know that’s not true, Cecilia,” Sandage said. “You said you have an idea, Macauley?”

“I’m saddened you have so little faith in me, Cecilia,” Macauley said, her avatar drooping. “I’ve worked so hard to help you guys, and you treat me so badly. Aren’t we friends?” Tears stung her anime avatar’s eyes. 

“What do you have to say, alien?” Cecilia replied, her tone terse.

“We appreciate you, Stella,” Rose said, trying to ease the tension. What was with her friend today? “Whatever you have planned, I’m sure it’s super clever.”

“Thank you, Rose. At least someone believes in me,” Macauley replied, brightening somewhat. “It’ll even the playing field. The Altair general is dangerous—much more powerful than his predecessor, with an ally to boot. I might have something to trip them up.”

“What the heck?” Director Shapley said, eyeing the schematics flashing on the screen.

“A little gift. It might help you out,” Macauley said, beaming.

“Is this some sort of weapon?” Rose replied, trying her best to understand the advanced diagrams before her. 

“This is a modified ship grappler used for towing ships. Are you suggesting we give Luyten V one?” Prince Hallfar said, snorting in disbelief.

“Exactly!” Macauley said, beaming.

“You can’t just give it a normal weapon,” Cecilia said, glaring in displeasure. Had she forgotten that her Akashic visions gave Luyten V its drill weapon? Or was that why she was angry? Cecilia’s moods were getting more unpredictable.

“Are you saying the ability to capture and restrain enemies won’t be helpful? Besides, it’s something the Ectutai scientists can make within your timeframe. Though Rose won’t have time for any field tests, she’s resourceful. She’ll manage.”

“I don’t believe this.” Cecilia wasn’t happy with these explanations. She clearly wanted something that’d blow the Altair to kingdom come.

Rose, however, wasn’t as picky. In fact, she thought the grapple attachment was rather cool. “I love it! Please, Prince Hallfar, get your tech people to work on this right away!”

“And she gives knowledge and technology that we couldn’t eventually devise ourselves,” Hallfar said, musing to himself. To this, Macauley only beamed at him. “Very well. Captain Plarel, get this to our designers on the flagship.”

“Yes, sir!” the captain said, saluting. He’d been one of the Ectutai who’d joined the prince on Earth. Poor Imrele’s guard captain hadn’t survived.

“We’ll accept this wisdom, Majayplay.” Prince Hallfar gave a polite bow. “You’re careful what you give. Wise, I imagine. There’s a reason my people keep out of less advanced planets’ business.”

“This planet has seen firsthand the dangers of technology they can’t control. I have one final piece of advice,” Macauley replied.

“Oh?” Rose said, interested.

“Believe in Rose.” Then the VTuber’s avatar vanished from the screen.

“Thank you,” Rose said, touched.

To this, Prince Hallfar actually smiled. “You heard her. Let’s get to work. This operation will spell the end of Altair Beta. Is this clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir,” the Ectutai guards and personnel said in unison.

“Believe in Rose, huh?” Cecilia said, lost in her thoughts. Rose wondered if Macauley had intended those words for Cecilia. With the death of Prince Imrele, her entire world was unraveling around her. Stella had reminded her they hadn’t lost yet.

The whole command center seemed renewed with energy as people bustled about or discussed how to improve the battle plan. They might actually have a shot. If this group couldn’t defeat Altair Beta, no one could.

///

“That’s right?” Vera replayed Prince Imrele’s strange conversation with Cecilia on the Velgr in her mind. It must be a mistake. Stella—no, Macauley—was some alien entity? Impossible. Of the information they’d absorbed from Prince Imrele, this seemed the most improbable.

“So this is the nature of the being holding Aquilia captive.” General Tarazed replied in her mind. ”Majayplay.”

“No, impossible!” Tseen Foo raged through the link. “I’ve been hunting a proverbial ghost?” Try as he might, he’d never been able to track Stella. If she didn’t have a physical body, it explained much. Wait, didn’t she have a body in the older prince’s story? It left Vera even more confused. 

“It must be true,” General Tarazed's simple, flat voice said. Despite the lack of any expression, it held absolute command. 

“B-but how do we fight her?” In her cell, Vera paced. She appraised it with new eyes. It’d been a carefully designed lure—not from some human girl, but an ancient, unknowable entity. Their conversations made more sense, orchestrated to keep Vera off-kilter. A pit formed in her stomach as she wondered if she’d accidentally leaked anything to the enemy.

Lord Tarazed read her thoughts. “It matters not. You revealed nothing important. And we will deal with Majayplay. Energy beings aren’t anything unique. We will call Alshain. He has abilities suited to destroying entities like her.”

“The last general,” Vera said. It was ridiculous that one once-simple planet required all three Altair generals to attend to it. What next, the Grand Intelligence itself? “Pardon me for asking, but how?”

“He can devour the ethereal, the intangible. We have fought aliens like the Majayplay before. They died, all of them. We, the Altair, devour all.”

This earned a smile from Vera, reassured. Like humanity, Stella had been a fool trying to fight them. The Altair were inevitable. All would fall.

Distracted by her conversation, she didn’t notice the gas entering her chamber until it was already gathering around her head. Vera gasped, her head spinning from whatever drug the humans were filling her with. No! Was this it? Had they decided they’d learned enough from her? No, not yet. She was only a child. There was so much Vera yearned to experience! Lord Tarazed tried encouraging her, but consciousness blurred the words until she blacked out.

///

“Where… am I…” Chains rattled as Vera regained consciousness. The ground beneath her rumbled, a constant hum of some engine. Her sluggish mind registered it was human. A truck?

“Seems she’s awake,” a gruff voice said.

Through blurry eyes, Vera saw soldiers sitting beside her. Each wore a heavy-duty weapon. It was a laughable threat. A familiar voice spoke.

“I wouldn’t try anything,” Sandage said. “There’s a bomb attached to your collar. Any funny business and it’ll explode.”

“Stupid humans!” Tseen Foo said in her mind. “Why can’t they just die already?”

“Calm. You’re on Earth again,” Lord Tarazed said. “The bomb matters not. We will rescue you. Hold on.”

Vera held her head up in defiance. “You realize it’d take you too?”

“I’m willing to take that risk. Every person on this transport is ready to sacrifice themselves to save our planet. It’s what separates us from you,” Sandage replied.

“Whatever,” What fake nobility. But lesser races like humanity liked to puff themselves up, pretending they were something important. “Where are we going?”

“To a new facility.” Sandage’s smile wasn’t pleasant. “A medical one. You can work out the details yourself. We have a certain test for you in two hours.”

“What?” What did that mean? Vera's mind turned to the worst conclusions. Did they plan to dissect her?

“Interesting,” Lord Tarazed said, considering.

“Like they can fool us,” Tseen Foo said with a sneer. “With Denebokab gone, they think we’re easy prey. What fools.”

“Ask questions,” Lord Tarazed said. “Learn anything you can.”

“Why Earth?” From the gravity, it was obvious they’d taken her planetside. “Can’t your Ectutai friends do it?”

“We have facilities they don’t,” Sandage replied simply. “And here we are.”

Vera craned her neck. It seemed they’d parked in a field somewhere. The quarry nearby seemed somewhat familiar. Were they on the outskirts of Vera’s hometown? As if it weren’t more obvious, this was an Altair trap. But her eyes bulged as a familiar face watched them as they dragged Vera out of the army truck.

Cecilia?

But her classmate seemed different from before. Her eyes seemed colder. The girl’s steely gaze followed them as they directed Vera to a nearby shack. An Arab woman followed behind her before directing her away from the scene. Other soldiers milled about, unloading things—highly scientific equipment, from Vera’s estimate.

“She’s here?” Tseen Foo said, giving a mental smirk. “They are just asking for us to destroy them. If we get her, humanity is doomed with her power on our side.”

“Scan everything, Aquilia.” Lord Tarazed commanded. It’d help the attack later. Vera realized she knew exactly where they were. The human Vera had gone here as a younger child to explore. Rose had accompanied her. She studied numbers and what weapons they had available, but Vera saw no sign of the Ectutai—not even a parked spaceship. The only thing visible was a metal shack, rusted by age. 

“They’re being careful, letting you see what they want you to see,” Lord Tarazed said.

If they really wanted this location hidden, the humans would have blindfolded her. They led her to an elevator in the shack that lowered into a bunker, freshly made by Vera’s reckoning. She didn’t protest as they guided her into a cell, bulletproof glass locking her from freedom. It’d be trivial to escape. But Vera only sat down on a hard stool and waited. If the humans wanted a fight, they’d get it.

Whatever their enemy had planned would never be enough. Lord Tarazed would destroy them all. And giving them Cecilia would spell doom for their species. It was inevitable.

///

“I’m in position,” Rose said, leaning back in her seat. It’d taken more effort than she’d expected to dig a proper hole for Luyten V in the quarry, but she’d finally managed it. From a distance, her robot looked indistinguishable from the gravel and rocks covering her. Her new grapple attachment sat across her robot’s chest, ready for use. 

Now she only needed to wait. Rose pulled out a tablet she’d brought to play games while she waited. There was no telling when Beta or his buddy would appear. 

Of course, Beta might just stay low and wait until their guard was down. To add urgency, they created a fake lab that would dissect Pyrite. The scientists had made it clear to the Altair that they planned to start work within the hour. 

When pressed by Cecilia on what they’d do if the Altair called their bluff, Prince Hallfar had given a chilly response: they would kill Pyrite, regardless. He didn’t mess around. It left Rose with mixed feelings, but she couldn’t deny that the fake Vera was a threat. She could cause serious damage if she ever escaped.

There was also Cecilia’s vision with Pyrite. It’d shown the pair in a strange, warped dimension. Her friend had been trying to ignore it, but Rose wasn’t so forgetful. They were putting Cecilia in considerable danger with this stunt. Yet Cecilia’s vision left many questions. Where had Pyrite taken her friend? Why hadn’t the Altair just killed her? Part of Rose wondered if some part of Vera still existed in her somewhere. Was that why she’d been so reluctant to destroy Pyrite?

“Oh, Vera…” What would her friend say? Would she say to forgive Pyrite? Rose’s heart panged for her friend. Luyten V responded to her anguish. Waves of comfort and calm seeped through the control console into her fingers.

“Thanks, bud,” Rose said, wearing a slight smile. No matter how difficult things got, Luyten V would always stand behind her. As she considered this, her comm unit buzzed.

“Yes?” Rose checked her readings, still finding nothing amiss. Only four minutes remained until Pyrite’s scheduled fake autopsy. “There’s nothing on my end, Control.”

“Ours either.” Rose heard Sandage’s frown. “It seems they didn’t fall for it.” They should have detected something by now.

“We’ll figure out some other way to draw Beta out,” Rose said, scowling. If they didn’t bite with their fellow Altair on the line, she wondered if anything could act as adequate bait. “Should I return to base?”

“No, we’ll wait,” Prince Hallfar said, cutting in. “Pyrite’s death might cause some sort of reaction. They might think we’re bluffing. They’ll learn otherwise.”

“Sorry, Vera,” Rose’s conflicting feelings about Pyrite aside, she’d be unable to avenge her friend.

“Good idea,” Sandage said. “Hold still for now, Rose. We’ll contact you if there’s any change.”

“Okay.” Rose noticed on her dashboard that the allotted time had passed. “Over and—”

Her control console went mad as it detected sudden seismic readings. From her seat, Rose sensed the quake, almost losing her seat. “What the—Control?”

But she got no response, and the tremors worsened. “Control! Dang it!” Rose made a decision and activated the piloting controls. Dirt rained down Luyten V’s carapace as she emerged from the pile her robot had been hiding in. She gasped as her view screen cleared.

A writhing tentacle was emerging from the ground where the bunker had been situated. Its emergence had created a giant sinkhole, swallowing the bunker and everyone in it. Rose realized, to her horror, that she hadn’t been the only one hiding. Instead of striking from the surface, Beta had struck from underneath. His digging must have been so subtle that they hadn’t detected it. Likely, he’d used a smaller form before transforming into his real one.

He’d done it again. Rose realized it with dread. Beta had outplayed them—again. Their mistake might have cost them everything. 

“Sandage! Cecilia!” Rose didn’t hesitate. Her robot charged toward the bunker that had become a death trap for her friends.

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Chapter 30

“Come in,” Ekkor said, sipping at his glass. The bitter liquid stung his throat, but a pleasing warmth spread through his stomach. He stood as a familiar face entered his sitting room. 

“Janie, you’re home.” Ekkor extended his hand and grasped his son’s. “You told me you wouldn’t return until next month.” He frowned as he caught his son’s expression.

“I planned to, but the Brequin deal fell apart.” The young man grabbed a random decanter from the shelf and poured himself a generous portion. His handsome face scowled at the flavor, but he took a swig, anyway. Unlike his thin, gangly brother, Janie was muscular, tanned from time outdoors. He enjoyed scuba diving as a hobby and worked hard to stay fit.

“What happened?” Millions had been riding on that deal. That it had fallen apart surprised Ekkor; his son was a skilled negotiator.

“They said something about our books not adding up. Said it wasn’t a sound investment.” Janie poured himself another drink.

“Your books?” Ekkor supposed it wasn’t a surprise Brequin Industries had uncovered that information behind Janie’s back.

The tech giant had tendrils everywhere. There were even rumors of a hostile takeover of Tiertex, especially after ex-Mayor Sunbearer’s AI Bot workforce plan. Still, while small, his son’s company had made an impressive start-up. The advanced AI software they produced should have been attractive.

Ekkor frowned. “Should there be a reason they found your books unattractive?”

“We’re clean.” But Ekkor found a shift in his son’s posture. While his other son, Rocke, was painfully honest, Janie never had such scruples. All fine and dandy, if you didn’t get caught.

“You messed up.” Ekkor didn’t keep the disappointment from his voice. Janie should have known better. Just what his family needed—another scandal.

“The prototype cost more than we initially projected. I just exaggerated its cost. It wasn’t even by much!” Janie said in protest.

“And you’ve only lied about costs this once?” 

Janie shifted uneasily under his father’s intense gaze. “Only a few times. But my company’s still doing well!”

Ekkor sighed, plopping into a cushioned seat. Couldn’t one of his sons be successful? But it was hardly a surprise. Janie had always cut corners, despite his father’s lessons. The folly of youth, he supposed. Janie had always been impatient and impulsive. And it’d cost their family again.

“I’ll just go to another company. They won’t be as suspicious,” Janie said quickly. “You’ll see. This will work.” Ekkor only gave a noncommittal grunt. He wasn’t so optimistic. Sloppiness was destructive in his view. 

“Besides Rocke, none of your line will prosper. They will all die young, with none to carry your blood.” Those words echoed through Ekkor’s head, making him give an involuntary shudder.

“No, it’s all nonsense.” Ekkor shook his head. “Claptrap. There is no judgment.”

“You will die in three days. You will be ripped to shreds, and the dogs will feast on your flesh.”

“Father?” Janie stood straighter after he noticed his father had gone pale.

“Nothing.” Ekkor calmed himself, pushing aside his son’s nonsensical words. He glanced at the clock. Forty-five minutes until midnight. The time of Matthias Daliven’s pronounced doomsday. Despite himself, a wave of unease washed over him. Ekkor made the most logical decision.

“How about a weekend trip to Genevia?” Ekkor suddenly announced. “We can visit your sister. She’s expecting, from what I understand. She’d enjoy the visit.” 

While they’d never been on the best of terms, Celly won’t reject a surprise visit from her family. She’d needle him as usual. He knew she took delight in annoying her father. The obstinate girl had never listened to him, more interested in acting upon whichever whim caught her attention.

“Huh?” The sudden change in subject made Janie blink. “Now? It’s late, almost midnight.”

“True, but Genevia is six hours away. And my airship has nice accommodations.” The airship was parked in the garage outside the house. It’d only take a handful of minutes to start up.

“But… don’t you have business ventures? You aren’t retired yet, Father.”

Ekkor waved away the concern. “It’s nothing that requires me in person.” Much to his surprise, his son became even more pensive.

“Didn’t Celly tell you?”

“What?”

“Just like her,” Janie took in a deep breath before speaking. “I doubt even Mom knows. Father, Celly had a miscarriage.”

“What?” Ekkor recoiled like he’d been punched.

“She found out yesterday that she’s infertile. She can’t carry a baby to term. The doctors are talking about treatments, but they aren’t optimistic.”

“Yesterday?”

“Besides Rocke, none of your line will prosper. They will all die young, with none to carry your blood.” The words returned, taunting him. No, impossible. He wouldn’t allow it. He’d make sure his daughter got the proper treatment. No prophecy would ruin his family’s chances for the perfect future.

“Father?” his son said, worried. “Is everything all right? You’re not yourself.”

“Stress,” Ekkor lied. “I could use a little vacation. I’ve been working too hard. Come. Let’s go to the airship. We can talk to Celly tomorrow. We can work this out. I know some of the world’s best doctors.”

“Okay, Father,” Janie said, nodding. “It’s a plan.”

“Higman, can you prep the airship?” Ekkor told his attendant on the viewscreen. “We leave immediately for Genevia.” Twenty minutes remained until midnight.

It was a relief when Ekkor stepped onto the deck of his richly appointed airship. The wood beneath him was the finest mahogany, imported from Vanderfall. The furnishings were simple, yet elegant. While not as grand as Sunbearer’s fallen ship, it was radiant.

“Is it necessary for us to leave this quickly?” his son asked as they entered a furnished sitting room. “This really can’t wait until morning?” He walked over to the open bar and poured himself a drink. 

But Ekkor didn’t answer, shooting the grandfather clock he’d inherited from his late uncle a pensive look. Every instinct screamed at him to leave Vladus now. Something in the air raised his hackles. While a ridiculous overreaction to Rocke’s babbling, Ekkor found no harm in being careful. He hadn’t reached his high position by taking stupid risks.

After a few minutes of pensive silence, Janie finally spoke. “Is this about Rocke somehow? Is that why you’re leaving the city? To avoid embarrassment? I heard what happened, though the details are somewhat sketchy.”

“Rocke? Let’s not talk about him.”

“Don’t change the subject, Father. Is it true he started some terrorist group? That’s what I’ve heard on the news.”

“Terrorist group?” Ekkor snorted. “Hardly. Just troublemakers, really.” An unexpected pang of sadness struck his heart. If only his son had listened to reason. Rocke might have become something. But no, the stubborn fool had to fight for a doomed moral cause.

“No, no terrorism. More anti-government protesters. He found a cause he wanted to fight for,” Ekkor said.

“That boy. Must he always cause trouble?” Janie slammed his empty glass on the countertop. “Doesn’t he realize how much our family reputation matters? He’s probably the reason Brequin turned me down!”

“Don’t be churlish,” Ekkor snapped, somewhat annoyed. “Your mistake made the deal fall through.” Typical. Janie was always blaming someone else for his troubles. While the circumstances with Rocke didn’t help, he’d cheated and gotten caught.

Janie snorted and didn’t reply. Inwardly, Ekkor knew his son was still furious. The two brothers had never gotten along, not helped by their almost twelve-year age difference. A baby brother was the least of Janie’s concerns when he entered high school. Sports had taken more of his attention, only begrudgingly watching over his brother when asked. They’d grown even more distant as the years rolled on. 

“Five minutes,” Ekkor said as he returned his attention to the clock.

“Why do you keep glancing at the clock? Are you expecting some disaster to happen at midnight? Is that why you dragged us away from Vladus?” Janie said with some humor. He frowned as he caught his father’s serious expression. “Is something going to happen?” He knew his father did nothing without a reason.

“Hopefully, nothing,” Ekkor replied. And if it fell? Well, he had political ambitions elsewhere. He didn’t need to be the mayor of Vladus specifically. The minutes passed in silence.

“See? You were being silly, Father.” Janie took great pleasure in saying this. For once, his father had looked foolish. “The world didn’t fall apart because midnight hit.”

As Ekkor opened his mouth to reply, the ground tipped underneath them, and he tumbled from his chair. His back howled as his skull collided with the mahogany floor. Antiques he’d collected over decades toppled over, some rolling across the tilting floor. The stench of booze filled the room as bottles smashed to pieces. His grandfather clock’s face shattered, forever stopping it at midnight.

“We’re descending?” Janie held on for dear life to the secured bar counter.

Ekkor said nothing, pushing his battered body toward the cockpit. Had something happened to the pilot? Why hadn’t the autopilot kicked in? And what about the co-pilot? Regulations required them both on airships. Thankfully, even with the tilted floor, the cockpit wasn’t far. Janie followed close behind.

“My…” Words failed his son as they reached the two pilots. They were dead, faces forever frozen in abject terror. They had both died instantly. “What could have caused this?”

“Forget them.” Ekkor pushed forward, shoving aside the pilot’s corpse. He needed to stabilize the ship before they crashed.

Thankfully, he’d taken flying lessons. In his opinion, the wise never stopped learning. The skill might prove handy later, even if just an amusing conversation piece. He pulled at the yoke, and the ship stabilized, preventing their rapid descent. Good thing too. They’d almost struck a skyscraper.

“That was close,” Ekkor said, activating the autopilot. He frowned as it refused to respond. Was there some computer error? “We’ll need to have this craft serviced after we land.”

When his son didn’t respond, Ekkor frowned. “Janie.” He turned, and his heart seized in his throat. Janie stood frozen, wearing the exact expression of fear as the dead pilots. He only pointed, eyes wide.

In his rush to stabilize the ship, Ekkor had been blind to everything else. When he got a good look through the viewscreen, he nearly fell apart.

Vladus was on fire. Molten magma seeped through holes in the ground, consuming everything in its path. Skyscrapers that’d stood for decades tilted as they melted from the intense heat. There didn’t seem to be anywhere in the city that wasn’t burning.

That, however, wasn’t the reason for his son’s fear. No, the figure in the sky was. Ekkor was a knowledgeable man with multiple degrees. He’d majored in literature, of all things. Yet words failed him as he tried to describe the winged figure before him. Even looking at it made him feel dirty, unworthy. Its beauty defied explanation.

The creature had six wings. Each possessed countless eyes that looked out. Even though none were paying Ekkor much attention, they seemed to stare into his soul. They saw everything. He could hide nothing. They found him wicked and sinful, and Ekkor couldn’t deny it. Fire spat from the creature’s flaming sword, so radiant it almost blinded him. Nothing would escape Vladus. Judgment had come to the city.

“Must escape.” Ekkor focused his attention on the controls and nothing else. He already knew he was the only person left alive on the ship. Janie was dead.

“Besides Rocke, none of your line will prosper. They will all die young, with none to carry your blood.”

But Ekkor refused to die. He would survive; he must. Despite not looking at him, Ekkor sensed the creature watching his escape attempt. Thankfully, it didn’t stop him.

“Almost.” They were near Vladus’s border. Just a little farther and he’d be safe. Then he’d put this nightmare behind him. A manic laugh escaped his lips as the ship reached the border. Ekkor didn’t even recognize himself. The ship rattled as something struck it.

“No!” From the ship’s damage reports, Ekkor guessed a flaming ball from the creature’s sword had struck the ship’s tailfin. It was going down. It would crash in Vladus’s outer wilderness. He tried controlling the crash, anything to make it less lethal. But they were descending too fast. Alarms blared as fire spread quickly across the ship’s hull.

Ekkor unleashed a guttural scream of fear as the ship crashed into a rocky hill, and everything went black.

“You will die in three days. You will be ripped to shreds, and the dogs will feast on your flesh.”

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Chapter 29

“She keeps following us.” Sweat trickled down Rocke’s neck as he peered backwards at their constant pursuer. No matter what tricky paths they took, Phú2 only found them again.

“Pain.” But Nitao only continued his driving, swerving between two smoldering cars. Their owners’ already sour moods became worse, cursing at them as they spotted Maple’s Ottomon tattoos underneath her hood. 

Despite the constant obstacles and frequent dead ends, they made decent time. While Rocke had somewhat limited knowledge of the city's layout, he recognized the area. He guided them to Vladus’s border. If everything went well, they’d leave the city in about half an hour.

“Wait.”

Nitao jerked the bike to a halt as they passed a building Rocke recognized. It was the shopping/apartment complex he had lived in before the Joven mess. A pang of worry stabbed his heart. While his friend had abandoned Rocke to save his own skin, he loathed leaving Marsh to die.

“We have to stop first,” Rocke said. “There’s someone I need to get.”

“You know time is running out?” Maple asked, not unkindly. “But if you must, we’ll wait.” Nitao only grunted, but didn’t complain.

“You’re just letting me go?” Rocke asked. “You won’t argue how foolhardy this is?”

“Lad, you have a kind heart, one more decent than most in the UOP. Why would I argue it should be harder? That you should just abandon a friend out of expediency?” the matronly woman replied.

“I’ll be back soon,” Rocke said. His friends nodded, waiting by the bike for him. 

“This is so stupid.” Yet he continued into the building despite his instincts arguing against it. He had to try. Rocke only hoped it wouldn’t give Phú2 time for whatever nastiness she had planned. “Please be home, Marsh.”

The entire shopping complex that sat under his uncle’s apartment was pitch black as he entered, the only light coming from its patrons’ phones. They sat around complaining to themselves about the blackout, wondering when power would return so they could return to whatever trivial shopping experience they’d wanted. Didn’t they realize what day it was? What calamity awaited them?

Rocke rushed over to the nearby elevators and slapped at a button, only for nothing to happen. He swore under his breath. He’d forgotten that the elevators didn’t have power either. The apartment was ten flights up what would usually be a five-minute trip would be at least a half-hour one. Despite the danger, Rocke continued forward anyway. 

“There they are!” Rocke beamed as he spotted the stairs sign that a phone just illuminated. As he grabbed the door’s handle, someone called his name. Rocke froze like he’d gotten caught in a net. Impossible.

“Uncle?” Rocke said, turning around.

“You have some nerve showing yourself,” Uncle Fenweller’s weathered, tanned face wore a deep scowl. “And weren’t you in prison? That’s what Ekkor said, at least.”

“Little Rocke, how are you?” said the much younger woman attached to his arm. She swayed on her feet, her eyes blurry. His uncle’s fourth wife, Liddie, was drunk as usual. Rocke had rarely seen her sober. Life with Uncle Fenweller could be hard.

“I’m on parole,” Rocke lied. It was the simplest explanation. He winced as the lights suddenly turned on, blinding him. Everything restored to life, holographic ads singing jingles of the newest diversion.

“I suppose Phú2 couldn’t maintain the blackout forever.” At least the elevators were working again. That’d save so much time.

“What?” his uncle said, baffled.

“Nothing. What are you doing here anyway? I understood you were abroad.” Rocke asked.

“I was, but I heard about a bit of nastiness that needed my attention before this happened,” Fenweller said, scowling. “What the heck can blackout an entire city!”

“Some dumb kid got himself killed,” Liddie laughed like she’d said the funniest thing in the world. 

“What?” Rocke said, taken aback.

“He got himself a little lover AI bot, only for it to slaughter him!” Liddie laughed again.

“Hold on. Are we talking about Marsh?” Rocke’s heart beat faster, knowing how his friend had droned on about wanting one.

“Yes. It had some malfunction, apparently. Left a real mess. It’s going to cost me a fortune to refurbish it,” Uncle Fenweller said. “What madness convinced me to let that rat room with you?”

“Marsh is dead?” Rocke’s voice was unsteady. It seemed unreal, like he’d entered a bad dream. How could this happen? He’d only seen his friend a couple of weeks ago.

“And if you think I’ll let you use my apartment again, you’re sorely mistaken,” Uncle Fenweller glared at his nephew.

“I don’t care about that. Marsh is dead.” Like his father, Rocke’s uncle only cared about what best served him. Rocke had trouble keeping the anger from his voice. 

Uncle Fenweller’s cold glare only confirmed what Rocke expected from the man. Instead, Rocke changed tactics. “A-are Marsh’s things still there?”

“Yes,” Uncle Fenweller replied. “The police left everything as it was after their investigation. You want his things?”

Rocke only nodded. Some memento, anything to remind him of his late friend. It wasn’t fair. Marsh could have become something. He’d only needed guidance, the right friend to show him the light. “Can I have a key? The police still have my things. They’re needed for the investigation, apparently.” A terrible lie, but his uncle didn’t care enough to contradict it.

“Fine. Get his trash out of my apartment,” Uncle Fenweller said, throwing his nephew a ring of keys.

“Thanks. And I’d leave the city right away. Things have gotten crazy. You must have heard about the police station attack. I fear this blackout might only be the start.”

But his uncle only snorted and left with his wife, who nagged him about what shops she wished to visit. He wouldn’t listen to any warning. Frustrated, Rocke only sighed. It’d been worth a shot. He rushed over to an elevator and pressed the up button.

It was uncanny as Rocke walked into his old abode, only everything was wrong, tainted. In many ways, it was how he’d remembered it. Even some of Marsh’s discarded clothes were still on the ground. But Rocke detected a hint of wrongness. The place seemed too empty somehow without its occupants. He tasted acid as he found a bloodstain that had seeped into the carpet. That was where his friend had met his untimely demise.

How could this have happened? Marsh was often a careless jerk, but he didn’t deserve this. Every instinct yelled at Rocke to flee this haunted place, but he held firm. He glanced around, lost what he even wanted as a memento.

Rocke planted himself into a nearby chair and put his face into his hands. His old life truly had been destroyed beyond all repair. His best friend was gone. His family had forever cut all ties with him. Unexpected tears stung Rocke’s eyes. He hadn’t realized how much it had hurt him. Despair clung to his aching heart.

“Oh, dear. What a mess,” a familiar voice said, startling Rocke.

“Maple?” Rocke lifted his head to the Ottomon woman. What was she doing here?

“Nitao’s at the bike, glaring at anyone who might get close. “I followed to see if you were okay.” The Ottomon woman plopped herself next to Rocke. 

“I suppose I’m not,” Rocke sniffed, tears stinging his eyes. “I didn’t know what I expected coming here. Marsh, my old friend, is dead.”

“Yes, I overheard everything. Poor lad, come here.” Maple pulled him close into a big hug. Unexpectedly, Rocke found himself crying into her shoulder. She said nothing, just stroking his hair. It struck him how his own mother had never offered him such comfort, even when he was little. Somehow, it made him cry harder.

Eventually, Rocke pulled himself together somewhat. “This is so stupid. The city’s about to be destroyed, yet I’m here crying over someone I usually only barely tolerated.”

“No, it’s not. And your tears don’t make you weak. You care about people, Rocke. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I suppose.”

“You stood up for us when no one else would. You’re very brave and kind. The UOP might demean you, but I won’t. Kallline too. And Nitao. You aren’t alone.”

“Thank you.” Rocke’s throat tightened. “My mother was always off doing whatever. I barely even saw my parents together. I kind of envy Kallene. She has someone wonderful like you in her life.”

“And now you have me too.” Maple pulled him close. “Your family doesn’t have to be the people you’re born into. You have us. And the Sovereign, of course.”

“I suppose so.” Rocke sniffed, his mood somewhat lightening. “W-we better get going.”

Maple only nodded, but was in no hurry to rush him.

Rocke looked at his old space and everything it represented. Once he left this apartment, his previous life would vanish forever. He didn’t think, nabbing the closest item of Marsh’s within his grasp. Much to his astonishment, it was a stuffed turtle. His late friend had brought it from his house, an old toy that Marsh hadn’t the heart to leave behind. It was perfect. Rocke stuffed it in his pocket.

“Goodbye, Marsh.” Rocke gave his old apartment a final glance before turning away and departing forever.

///

“Is everything alright?” Nitao eyed Rocke with concern as they exited the building. The Konquellian was leaning against his stolen motorcycle, acting as nonchalant as possible.

“…yeah.” Rocke had little energy to muster beyond that. He secured Marsh’s stuffed turtle in his pocket before mounting the motorcycle.

While the city had returned to some normalcy since restoring power, Vladus was still a total mess. Work crews were trying to dislodge wrecked vehicles from the streets to restore some flow in the city’s veins. With the city still in turmoil, this was their best opportunity to escape. Someone would eventually come looking for the stolen motorcycle. Rocke hoped they’d be free of Vladus before then.

“A curfew?” Maple said, drawing their attention. She pointed at a bulletin scrolling across the huge screen on the city’s famous skyscraper.

“Thanks, Prime Minister Luciest,” Rocke said, scowling. Thanks to the general chaos, the prime minister had announced martial law. Until they restored law and order, a strict curfew was in effect. More forces were being brought into Vladus.

“And in other news,” a newscaster said. “Tensions between the UOP and Vanderfall are at an all-time high. We have confirmation that Vanderfall forces are gathering at the border. The Prime Minister is talking with President Plummer to try and de-escalate the situation, but many fear war is inevitable.”

“Ah.” Rocke’s mood darkened further as Jafia’s mission became even clearer. She’s come to the city to create chaos, weakening it for her country’s forces. Part of him wanted to cheer Vanderfall on, but in his heart of hearts, he couldn’t do it. Despite how terrible they were, the UOP were his people. Oh, Jafia, what would he do with her?

“We'd better hurry.” With the curfew, they really couldn’t afford to linger.  Rocke’s turbulent relationship with Jafia would have to wait. They looked super sketchy—three people awkwardly riding a two-seater bike, especially during the curfew. Whatever the case, the only road was forward.

“The border’s not far,” Maple said, scanning the bike’s city map. Her face hardened. “Only forty minutes left until midnight.”

“Okay, but we should probably avoid the main streets,” Rocke said with a grimace, knowing how exposed they were. “I hope that shouldn’t add too much time.”

“It’ll have to do,” Nitao said simply.

“She’s nowhere to be seen,” Rocke said refering to Phú2 as they zipped into a somewhat narrow street. This one had a maze of crashed cars, one still emitting black smoke from its hood. Despite the tight fit, Nitao navigated it expertly.

“Let’s hope the military scared her off,” Maple replied. 

They’d seen a few military copters across the sky. Still, Phú2’s disappearance hadn’t put Rocke at ease.

Yet everything seemed to go smoothly. While they received some odd looks, no one bothered giving them a second glance. Not even the police paid them much notice, as they were more interested in stopping looters and other general mayhem than suspicious characters on a motorbike. It’d take some hours before they restored enough order to enforce any curfew.

Still, as they approached the city’s border, Rocke’s apprehension grew. He knew this accursed city wouldn’t allow them to leave so easily. They rode without any lights, t

he last thing they needed was a military patrol spotting them.

“Seven minutes,” Maple shouted over the roar of the engine. They passed empty warehouses and office buildings. Since the blackout had happened so late, everyone had already left for the night, leaving the streets deserted, free of any crashes or debris.

“The city border is only three minutes away. Gives us plenty of time.” Rocke only hoped his other friends had also reached safety.

“Something bad’s coming,” Nitao said. “It’s in the air.”

“Hm.” Rocke realized his friend was right. The whole city had suddenly become so calm, like it was holding its breath. “We'd better hurry.” 

In the distance, Rocke spotted the rocky plains that surrounded the city. It was bleak, difficult terrain, almost lifeless if not for the sparse patches of green. Mounds of rocky hills dotted the landscape with red lines drawn along their surface. A sudden roar of a siren broke Rocke’s reverie.

“Oh no!” Rocke turned to see that three police cars had suddenly got on their trail, chasing in hot pursuit. Despite going dark, the officers had clearly spotted them. He cursed as a police copter came into view. Despite being inanimate, it seemed somehow smug. Had Phú2 reported their location to the police?

“Forget them,” Maple said. “Go faster. We can’t dawdle. We need to leave the city now.”

In response, Nitao increased his speed to a reckless level. The police gave chase, easily matching their prey’s pace. In fact, they were gaining on them. But it didn’t matter. They only had a singular goal: escape the city.

“Slow down your vehicle and come to a complete halt. If you don’t, we will open fire,” a loudspeaker said. “This is your only warning.”

“Catch us, if you can!” Nitao cried, tightening his grip on the handlebars. Rocke winced as a bullet sped past his ear, but this only increased the Konquellian’s determination to escape.

A police car caught up to them, saddling up parallel to the fleeing motorbike. It tried colliding with them, but Nitao avoided it at the last second. But the distraction cost them. The bike wobbled as a bullet struck their rear tire, and it careened out of control. Time stood still as the disaster unfolded in front of Rocke’s eyes. A crash was inevitable. In response, Rocke offered a quick prayer that it wouldn’t be too painful.

With surprising tenacity, Nitao gained enough control to turn the crash into a slide. Metal sparked as the bike slid across the road. A defiant smile grew on the Konquellian’s face as his controlled turn allowed them to slide right past the city’s border mark. They’d finally left Vladus.

This victory was short-lived as Rocke found himself flying end over end. He feared the worst, but something odd happened. As he flew toward a patch of rocky grass, a cushion seemed to form in the air, slowing his descent. Instead of dashing him against the rocks, he only struck the rocky patch hard enough to graze his skin. While battered and bruised, the pain wasn’t too bad. 

“Ugh.” Rocke didn’t protest as someone pulled him up and pushed him hard against a police car.

“What was that about?” A bemused police officer asked. “Did you think just leaving the city would make you immune to the law?” 

“He’s remarkably intact considering that fall,” another officer said, eyeing Rocke in puzzlement.

“Good work, gentlemen,” a suited blond woman said, exiting a police car. Her sharp features studied their captives through thick spectacles before nodding.

“Thank you, Deputy Shiisaa,” the man holding Rocke said. “The mad AI’s tip was right.” The officers gathered up the rest of Rocke’s friends and cuffed them, though thankfully, they didn’t seem too battered either.

Rocke cursed under his breath. He’d been right. His body straightened in alarm as he realized something. “We can’t stay here. She might crash that helicopter right on top of us!” To his growing alarm, a police helicopter was heading right toward them.

“I am well aware of Phú2’s tactics. I predicted she might repeat what she did at the precinct, so I came prepared.” Shiisaa snapped her fingers, and a police officer exited the vehicle she’d just departed with a long-barreled weapon. A rocket launcher? Where had they gotten one of those?

The helicopter turned about-face after spotting the weapon. The machine pouted like a child denied a toy. It patrolled the area but kept a healthy distance away, much to Rocke’s relief.

“Fear not. I have no intention of allowing Phú2 to get her way.” Shiisaa adjusted her glasses. “We’ve been working hard to purge her from the police and emergency systems. We won’t allow her to harm you.”

“That’s something at least,” Rocke sighed in relief.

“I see. Keep looking,” Shiisaa said into her earpiece, her mouth creasing into a hard frown.

“Deputy?” an officer asked, worried.

“Still no sign of Chief Halkken.” Despite Shiisaa’s flat tone, worry crept into it. “They haven’t found his body. So I’m still hopeful.” The rest of the officers nodded, their concern evident.

“Regardless, return to City Hall,” Shiisaa said. “It will serve as our base of operations for the immediate future. It has cells we can use to secure these high-profile prisoners.”

“You’re assuming that City Hall will still be there,” Maple said, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“You’re referring to the late Matthias’ prophecy? I’m assuming that’s why you worked so hard to leave the city bounds?” Shiisaa replied. “The late Chief told me about it. He thought it was utter nonsense. He was willing to leave Matthias alone to let time disprove him until you started causing messes we couldn’t ignore.”

“What about you?” Maple pressed. “What do you think?”

“I believe in facts,” Shiisaa replied. “And one fact is that you’ll soon face the full extent of the law.”

Yet Maple’s face lit in triumph. “How I’ve waited for this. That you would finally face the justice you deserve. My late husband died due to your cruelty. The Sovereign’s judgment comes to everything in the end.”

Before Shiisaa could offer a snappy, cold retort, the ground shook beneath them. It rumbled so hard that everyone lost their footing. Rocke winced as his forehead scraped against the car door.

Instead of dying down, the rumbling intensified. Rocke clung to the police car’s tire for dear life, closing his eyes tight. With how hard he was shaking, Rocke feared he’d break to pieces. Finally, it died down enough for him to stand.

“What the heck was that?” Rocke tried calming his beating heart. 

That was a terrifying experience. Still, what could have caused it? Vladus wasn’t anywhere near a fault line. Everyone else rose shakily to their feet. Much to Rocke’s surprise, the officers weren’t in a hurry to restrain him. In fact, from their expressions, they’d forgotten him altogether. The reason soon became apparent.

“Oh my…” Words failed Rocke. He stood there, rooted in place. He just stared.

Vladus was on fire. But that was an incomplete description. One might say that was the least important part. Compared to the lava flowing through Vladus’s streets like blood through a person’s veins, it was an inconsequential detail. It consumed everything in its path, its intense heat burning anything it didn’t touch. A terrible gash stretched across the city, a gaping hole leaking the burning liquid. Somehow, a volcano had emerged from beneath Vladus. Then Rocke remembered something Maple had mentioned earlier.

The Sovereign cleanses sin through fire.

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Chapter 28

“Ugh, why does this keep happening to me?” Rocke said, blurry-eyed as he pulled himself from the car’s wreckage. The vehicle sat on its side, forcing Rocke to shimmy himself free. The incoming police car had done a number on their escape vehicle, leaving it a smoldering husk. One wheel had gotten knocked off, rolling into a nearby parking lot.

“Is everyone okay?” Rocke asked.

“I’ll live,” Nitao said, his expression struggling to hide his pain.

“I think so.” Maple added as pulled her out. Of everyone, she seemed the most intact. Rocke touched his scalp and found a light trail of blood. 

“What a mess.” Rocke glanced around the road for potential threats. He tensed as each car on the street approached. Thankfully, the automatic driving programs avoided him as he stood almost in the middle of the road.

“Yeah, stinks, huh?” Phú2’s mocking voice came from the wrecked police car. “So much for your easy escape.”

“Yeah, thanks.” What utter insanity. For whatever reason, the AI demanded their blood. Not for the first time, Rocke wondered if a total madman had designed Phú.

“We’re still escaping. And you can’t stop us,” Rocke refused to be intimidated by this mechanical lunatic.

“Hmm. I suppose you could just steal a car,” Phú2 said, musing. “There are still too many escape routes. That’s why I’ll do this!”

“What are you—” Rocke trailed off as darkness suddenly swallowed him. It happened so quickly that Rocke thought he’d gone blind. But no—he soon realized he was seeing something he’d never imagined. The entire city of Vladus had gone dark, not even the streetlights working. The only illumination remaining came from vehicles zipping by, and even amongst them  many were silenced as chaos broke loose.

Car systems that should have made crashes impossible failed and vehicles careened wildly. One almost struck Rocke, only luck keeping his wits sharp enough to jump away in time,

The sound of countless collisions echoed through the dark city as vehicles slammed into one another. It stunned Rocke into silence, horrified by the carnage. Somehow, Phú2 had disabled the vehicle control center, blinding the AIs that guided traffic. Their inbuilt systems might have adjusted without it—but not while already traveling at high speeds. Fires broke out across the city as exploding cars set everything ablaze.

“Sovereign!” Maple said, making a symbol Rocke didn’t recognize in the air across her chest. They watched as an out-of-control car smashed into a light pole, blood pooling where the driver had struck the wheel.

It was utter havoc, and Rocke felt useless as cars piled up like carelessly tossed pillows. “Is this the Sovereign’s judgment?”

“No,” Maple said, her voice grim. “Not even close. When He finally enacts His justice, we’ll know.”

“Oh,” Rocke replied, speechless. Something worse than this? “But what can we do now? Crashed cars are jamming the streets!” While someone could drive without the AI control net, the mess clogging the streets would likely be impossible to pass. Without the map system, it was impossible to tell which streets were impassable until they reached them.

“That AI isn’t making it easy for us.” Maple wore a grim smile. “But I’m not quitting yet. We only have 85 minutes until midnight. What do you think, Nitao? Any ideas?”

Their Konquellian friend said nothing, his expression thoughtful. Even with the language barrier, their dilemma was obvious. Above them, a police helicopter hovered, surveying the scene like a silent sentinel. She was watching them.

“There,” Nitao pointed at a parked motorcycle.

“You can’t be serious.” It’d be a tight fit with three people.

“Best chance,” Nitao replied simply, already walking toward the motorcycle.

“Can you drive it?” Rocke asked, watching as his Konquellian friend opened a panel and fiddled with the internal controls. It seemed Nitao was hot-wiring it.

Nitao only gave Rocke a look before returning to his work. Rocke gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Okay, dumb question.”

“Seems we have transportation.” Maple shot him a smile. If the uncomfortable ride bothered her, she didn’t show it. The big woman would manage somehow.

“There.” The machine rumbled to life, its engine emitting a gentle purr.

“Good work!” Rocke said, beaming.

When Nitao took the driver’s seat, Rocke climbed on behind him. Maple took the last spot, pressing hard against Rocke. The seat barely held all three riders. The engine roared as Nitao revved it, and they sped past the wreckage of smashed cars. Most of the occupants were out surveying the damage and bemoaning their situation. Some, however, remained trapped in their vehicles, struggling to force their broken doors open.

It was eerie driving through the blackened city. The only sounds were distant cries of pain and blaring car alarms. Without the motorcycle’s map system, Nitao guessed which direction led to the city limits. Still, he made decent progress, weaving past wreckage and pedestrians. With luck, they would be out of Vladus soon.

Still, Rocke worried about his friends and Jafia. If he was having trouble, they likely had it worse. Inside, Rocke berated himself for abandoning them. But he had little choice. He would have to leave their safety to the Sovereign.

Rocke’s body tightened with tension as he heard a helicopter. It followed at a distance, content to hound them like a dog. Nitao increased his speed, but it was still rough going with the streets so clogged. That Phú2 hadn’t acted yet worried Rocke. She seemed to be waiting for something. What? Rocke couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, he doubted it was good. 

///

“Don’t do this, Phú2,” Halkken pointed his gun at the killer robots surrounding them. Their attackers’ blank faces seemed to gleam with eager anticipation for the upcoming violence.

Jafia continued to struggle under the collapsed roof, a useless effort. It’d take three men to lift. For now, she was useless. It was a pity. They might actually need the canny spy to escape this situation.

“I liked you, Chief, but it was foolish of me. Once a rat, always a rat. You betrayed me and the UOP for traitors and foreign spies. It’s what you deserve, ex-chief. Ex as in you’ll be dead soon!”

“It’s not like that,” Halkken crowded in closer to the soldiers with him to better protect their exposed backs. “You’re not well, Phú2. Your predecessor hurt people, taking the law into her own digital hands. This isn’t how we do things. You have to trust me. I promise you, Jafia Bronfreld will face judgment for her many crimes, but it will be through the courts, not vigilantism.” Or whatever you called this.

“Likely story, traitor.” Phú2’s digitized voice sneered at him from a guard robot. “No more excuses. Just die already!”

“So much for diplomacy,” Halkken thought grimly as the robots closed in. Nearby soldiers readied their weapons, one calling their comrades for much-needed backup. From the soldiers’ expressions, they weren’t optimistic about surviving until then.

The only illumination came from the glowing lights on the robot’s chest plates, which cast weak light on the soldier’s terrified faces. They fought hard, but the numbers and the lack of light worked against them. Many died within moments of the assault. 

Still, they were the UDF. They refused to die quietly. One soldier jumped onto a guard robot’s back and blasted a hole through its neck point-blank. Another used a hatchet to cleave a robot’s head clear off. Even Halkken fought. While his sidearm was pathetically useless against these metal monstrosities, he acted as a distraction or called out any attacks from behind. Still, it wasn’t enough. Their enemy’s numbers were too great.

“Gah!” A metal limb struck Halkken’s side, the sound of cracking bone deafening in the pitch-black night. He crumbled to the ground, his body useless. Jafia cried out in alarm, but she was utterly helpless to help anyone.

“And that’s the last one.” A guard robot tossed aside a limp soldier, focusing its attention on the only survivor.

Fear threatened to unman him, but Halkken refused to show any weakness. Instead, he held his chin high. “Just get it over with, Phú2.”

“You’re not making this fun.” The AI’s digitized voice pouted. “I think I’ll hurt you some more before killing you. Or should I kill the spy first? That might create a fun reaction.”

“Just try it,” Jafia said, a growl escaping her throat. “You won’t get anything from me.”

Despite their dire situation, Halkken found he admired the Vanderfall spy. She had guts to spare for them both. His body protested, but Halkken pushed himself to his feet. He would do his duty as an officer of the law. “Leave her alone. It’s me you want.” He smirked as he caught Jafia’s stunned expression. She hadn’t expected him to stand up for her.

“Think about it,” Halkken said, his voice level and reasonable. “You have her caught. She’s a spy. Why kill her? She has information that the higher-ups will want. I’m a traitor, sure. So I’m fair game, but at least spare her.”

It was a long shot. Phú2’s programming and logic algorithms were likely mangled beyond repair, but this basic logic might break through. Behind the blank faces of the guard robots, Halkken thought he saw gears turning.

“You’re right,” Phú2 said. Halkken kept his pained face steady to hide his relief. “It’ll make me a hero! With you, the traitorous ex-chief dead and the spy caught, I’ll be the talk of the UOP. Free her.”

Four of the remaining guard robots grabbed the beam pinning Jafia and lifted. While roughed up from their fight with the UDF, one even missing an arm, they managed the load easily. The fifth and last pulled Jafia free, the beam landing with a deafening thud as it crashed back down. The spy eyed Halkken, clearly lost for words. He winked only at her. The beam had only landed over her, not directly on her. She’d been lucky.

“All better. I’ve got you caught, Miss Bronfreld.” A guard robot gestured to the fallen soldiers. “You’ll know what happens if you resist.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jafia replied, her tone sour. She hesitated before throwing Halkken a shaky smile. “Thanks for saving me, for whatever it’s worth.”

“It’s my duty,” Halkken said simply. It went some way towards redeeming him. The late chief would approve. 

“And now you.” The guard robots surrounded Halkken, their shock prods sparking to life. “I’d say about five minutes of being electrocuted should be enough.”

Despite death quickly approaching, Halkken found he wasn’t afraid. Was this how Chief Rolf faced his death, too? “Do your worst.”

“I will, ex-chief. Die knowing you’ll go down in history as the worst police chief in Vladus history!” Phú2 said.

Huh? Halkken only stared in bewilderment. Those were her last words for him? Did she need to rob him of his dignity in his last moments? Just his luck. But he didn’t flinch as a metal prod stabbed at him.

“Oh no, you don’t!” a lovely voice said. Then she appeared like an avenging angel, radiating a glow that blinded him. 

“What?” Phú2 turned, and a barrage of burning bolts blasted the guard robot’s metal skull. Its head melted, collapsing into a scrap heap.

“Get to cover!” a deep baritone said, and a burly Ottomon jumped from the broken roof and landed with a resounding thud. He roared and struck the nearest guard robot with a fire axe.

While the robot’s carapace should have been too thick for the weapon to inflict any damage, the big Ottomon’s tremendous strength and precise blow struck the guard robot’s vulnerable neck and cleaved the head clear off. Jafia wasn’t idle either, diving for a soldier’s gun and shooting as soon as her finger touched the trigger. It blasted a hole in a robot trying to attack the avenging, shining angel from behind. Much to his embarrassment, Halkken realized her radiance had only been a flashlight.

“Hey, no fair. Where’d you come from?” Phú2 said in protest. Weakened by their fight with the UDF, the Ottomon’s surprise attack easily decimated her forces. Halkken could only watch with a glad heart and appreciation for their timely rescue.

“How did you find us?” Jafia asked after burning a hole in the final guard robot.

“You weren’t exactly quiet,” Kallene said, amused. “You guys were practically screaming at the top of your lungs.”

“That was a little too easy,” the big Ottomon said, throwing his axe over his shoulder. “Hardly a challenge at all.”

“Don’t say that,” Kallene admonished, but she was smiling. “We’ll get one if we hang around here. There are still UDF dogs and guard robots everywhere.”

Jafia nodded. “Any idea what happened to Rocke?”

“Mom has him and Nitao,” Kallene replied.

“Really?” Jafia tapped her ear. “My comm’s busted. Still, that’s good to hear. Let’s go.” But she paused, turning toward the police chief slumped against the wall. “And let’s take him.”

“What?” Kallene said, all indignation. “Why? He’ll only slow us down!”

“Hm.” The big Ottomon only snorted, burly arms crossed. He didn’t argue, only waited for his friend’s logic.

“Hello again, angel,” Halkken said with a weak laugh. His breathing was a rasp as he struggled to draw breath.

“You?” Kallene said after recognizing him. She groaned. “Really?”

“We have to take him. The AI is trying to kill him. If we leave him, it will probably finish the job,” Jafia said with simple logic. “And he saved my life. It’s the least I can do.”

Kallene scowled but nodded. “Fine. Dallas.”

“Got it.” With his gentle but firm arms, the big Ottomon tossed Halkken over his shoulder. Despite being in rough shape, he took the weight easily. Halkken threw the man a weak smile.

“We'd better hurry.” Jafia checked a timepiece. “An hour and ten minutes until midnight.”

“Blackjack has a car ready for us. Thankfully, we prepared for the worst,” Kallene said. “Though getting out of the city in a blackout won’t be easy.”

“Getting out of this building won’t be easy,” Jafia said, resigned. “Let’s go.”

It seemed he’d survived once again through the skin of his teeth. Now, however, he’d fallen into the enemy’s hands. While grateful they were helping him, it was still a mixed blessing. This might get him killed, caught in the UDF’s crossfire as they fought the rebels. Or slaughtered by Phú2 in her misplaced desire for revenge. Neither option sounded appetizing. Still, he’d seen his angel again. How could a man complain about that? He just hoped he’d live long enough to appreciate it.

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 35

“Here you go,” Rose said, offering some bread to the geese treading across the water’s edge. They squawked and dove at the free food eagerly. She smiled at their blatant greed.

The park bustled with activity, folk seeking some normalcy in these troubled times. Rose watched two brothers with their husky, laughing as they ran across the vibrant field. It brightened Rose’s dour mood somewhat.

“I thought you might be here,” Sandage said as he approached.

“How did you find me?” Rose got a sneaking suspicion, glaring at her bodyguard, Brown. The traitor.

“He didn’t help. I had a hunch. You rather like nature,” Sandage replied, reading her mind. 

“Yeah, I didn’t feel like being cooped up in my house right now. What do you want, Mr. Sandage? You know I have no intention of talking with you, right?”

“I thought coming was worth a shot,” Sandage said with some humor. “I just want to say I’m sorry. I wronged you.”

“You did,” Rose replied, her tone flat. “Badly.”

“I was being an idiot. You deserved better.” Sandage said with total honesty. Rose’s hostility softened somewhat, and she sighed and motioned for him to sit next to the lake’s edge with her. The LUVOLT agent joined her in feeding the ducks. 

They sat in silence, Rose fighting her conflicting emotions. What should she say? I forgive you for betraying me?

She stewed for several long moments before speaking again. “Look, I understand. Nobody would want to deliver that news.” Rose’s voice broke, her lip quavering. “That Vera’s gone, replaced by a monster. But I’m not a child. You should have told me.”

“Rose, you literally can’t vote or even drive yet,” Sandage smirked and fought back laughter as Rose scowled.

“You don’t have to put it like that,” Rose said, her temper flaring hot.

Sandage’s expression became more serious. “And I couldn’t bring myself to tell you. I wanted to preserve your innocence. You’re too young to deal with a tragedy like this.”

“My innocence?” Now he was treating her like a child.

“Stupid, I know. I care about you, Rose. It kills me every time you bring the Luyten V into battle. I should be the one risking my life in that pilot’s seat, not you. You deserve better.”

Rose wanted to argue, say how silly his worrying was. Sandage’s earnest expression, however, stole the words from her mouth. He meant every word. The pain and guilt were evident all over his expression. While it still didn’t excuse what he did, Rose found the grip on her anger slipping.

“Okay. But never do this again. Otherwise, I really will refuse to talk with you ever again.”

“Fair,” Sandage replied. “Can’t argue with that logic.”

“You really owe me,” Rose said emphatically.

“Sure,” Sandage said, resigned. “Another family dinner, then? My wife, Jocelyn, has been begging me to bring you over again. Joe wants to see you, too.”

“Hmm, that might work.” Rose had to admit Sandage’s wife was an amazing cook, even better than her mom. “But this time my whole family comes. We don’t have as many outings as we used to. Oh, and you also owe me plenty of ice cream.”

“Fine, fine,” Sandage said, laughing.

“Anyway, what did they decide?” Rose said, her mood souring. “About the fake Vera.” She had an inkling of what they decided.

“Can’t say I’m pleased about it, but we’re using the Altair disguised as Vera as bait. For simplicity, we’ve designated her as Altair Pyrite.”

Pyrite? As in fool’s gold? How fitting. That imposter didn’t deserve Vera’s name. “Yeah.” And the fake had seemed so real, basically indistinguishable from the real Vera. They’d had fun and even laughed together. Some part of Rose hated throwing Pyrite to the wolves. But why? The impostor wasn’t the real Vera. Why were her emotions so knotted?

“I guess we have no choice. We need to stop Altair Beta.” Rose said, resigned. Besides, arguing was pointless. The adults wanted to do this. They won’t listen to someone who couldn’t even drive. 

“That part’s still getting hashed out. But Prince Hallfar is pushing the plan for this weekend.”

“That’s only three days away!”

“I know. But General Kuiper agrees. Altair Beta poses too big a threat.”

“Okay, I’m ready for some payback.” Rose punched a fist into her hand. “Luyten V too, I imagine.” For whatever reason, she sensed hatred against the Altair whenever she piloted the machine. It was subdued, but there. A question for the philosophers, Rose supposed. She hadn’t a clue what it meant.

Rose’s phone buzzed, interrupting their conversation. She glanced down at ither phone, her heart racing with excitement. “It’s from Cecilia. She says she’s landed in New York. Her next plane should land in Minneapolis in about three hours.” Her town didn’t have an airport. 

“Perfect. Burbidge has been worried about her.” Sandage released a heavy sigh. “Me too. The poor girl’s been through a lot. If I’d known what would happen, she’d never set a foot in that stupid spaceship.” As with Rose, he blamed himself whenever something bad happened to Cecilia. What a softie. 

“Uh, may I come with? I’m sure she’d like to meet a friendly face.”

“You remember it’s a school night?” Sandage said, his tone disapproving.

“I’m still going,” Rose said stubbornly.

“Okay,” Sandage said, laughing. “We can both go. Cecilia has had a rough time. It’d be good if you’re there.”

“Thanks. I’ve been so worried about her.” Cecilia had really liked Prince Imrele. 

“Those Altair monsters—how dare they?” Rose thought, her anger so hot she wanted to smash anything nearby. They likely turned him into an imposter, too. 

Sandage checked his watch. “We'd better be going soon, then. It’s a long drive to the Cities.”

“Okay, I’ll text my mom about this.” Rose’s fingers were already tapping the message. She won’t be happy about this sudden late-night excursion either, but she’d understand. This was too important. Cecilia needed her. She needed them both.

///

“How are you feeling?” Al-Kindī said as they entered the Minneapolis airport proper. The station was full of people, all conducting their affairs, arriving and departing. It was so crowded that Cecilia walked quickly to keep pace.

“Okay, I guess,” Cecilia said, still green around the gills. It’d been an effort not to throw up on the plane. Unlike the alien craft she’d flown in early, this ride hadn’t been nearly as smooth. Her escort gave her a sympathetic look. “Is there a car ready for us?”

Al-Kindī smiled at Cecilia’s question. The reason soon became apparent as two familiar faces waved as they approached the street outside the airport.

“Rose?” Unexpected tears stung her eyes. What was wrong with her? But Cecilia didn’t protest as her friend threw her a sudden hug.

“Of course I came,” Rose replied after releasing the hug. “After everything, I had to. Mr. Sandage came too.” For whatever reason, she shot the LUVOLT agent a sardonic look. 

“Yeah, obviously. You can’t drive.” What had that been about? And Sandage’s expression at Rose’s comment was also strange. Cecilia decided she’d ask later.

“We have tons to talk about!” Rose gestured to the person accompanying Cecilia. “But who’s this?”

“Esra Al-Kindī.” The woman was short for an adult, almost head-height with the unusually tall Cecilia for her age. But Al-Kindī was well-built, her face used to hardship. “And you must be Rose.” Al-Kindī shot Rose a welcoming smile.

“That’s right,” Rose smiled back.

“Joe Sandage.” He clasped hands with Al-Kindī. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for watching over Cecilia. It’s been a hard few days.”

“My pleasure, Sandage,” Al-Kindī replied. “The Turkish government assigned me to make sure she got home safely, though I wasn’t expecting a welcoming committee. It pleases me to see Cecilia so loved.”

“I don’t know about that,” Cecilia said, somewhat self-conscious. Still, her dour mood brightened somewhat. A dark cloud had hung over her since the incident, and she didn’t realize how much she needed to see her friends. It threatened more tears, but she refused to break down, especially in public.

“Sorry you flew all this way, only to fly back,” Rose said. “Are you staying for some sightseeing at least?”

“Apparently, she’s my bodyguard now?” Cecilia supposed it made sense after what happened on the Ectutai ship, but it still seemed excessive. She wasn’t that important.

“Really?” Rose said, surprised.

Sandage nodded. “The Turkish government already approved the transfer. Welcome to LUVOLT, Miss Al-Kindī.”

“Makes sense. The Altair will probably come after her,” Rose tapped her chin. “They’ll want what’s in your head, Cecilia.”

“What?” Cecilia paled. Why would that be? Had the Altair somehow learned her secret?

“Yes, for humanity’s sake, Cecilia must be protected at all costs.” Al-Kindī’s expression hardened. “I’ll  protect her with my life.” She’d been a member of the Turkish Special Forces, from Cecilia’s understanding.

“We can talk about this on the ride back home,” Sandage said. “There’s much to discuss.”

“Right.” Rose’s expression darkened, drawing a curious glance from Cecilia.

The incident on the Velgr had changed everything. Prince Imrele was gone. Hallfar, too, most likely. And it was all her fault. Her vision had done nothing to fix anything. She quaked with pent-up emotion, barely keeping them under control, but a warm hand grabbed hers.

“I’m here, okay?” Rose said, squeezing tight.

Unable to speak, Cecilia nodded. She allowed her friend to pull her into a waiting van. Brown was driving. Once they got comfortable, they drove off, whileand Rose and Sandage caught her up on concurrent events.

///

“And he’s really alive, not some Altair imposter?” Cecilia said, her tone skeptical. Of the current events, Rose’s friend had the greatest difficulty swallowing this one. “They lost contact with him. They couldn’t raise him on the comm at all!”

“The trash disposal unit has some thick walls. No signals can easily pierce them,” Sandage said. “Lucky for him, the Altair cared more about achieving its objective than chasing him.”

“TWas there was a trash compactor?” Rose had always really enjoyed that scene in Star Wars. “Were there any alien creatures inside?”

“It’s awfully convenient,” Cecilia said, interrupting Sandage’s response to Rose’s lighthearted query. “That was unusually quick thinking.”

To this, Sandage only shrugged. “Prince Hallfar is a trained soldier. He’s not afraid to get a little dirty for the sake of survival.” Jumping into the waste area of a ship sounded revolting, but still better than dying in Rose’s reckoning.

Rose put a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “It was a lucky break. We’ve needed those, especially after what happened to Vera.”

“Vera, replaced.” Cecilia shook her head dumbly. “It’s just crazy. How did this happen?” She tensed. “What if someone else in our class has been replaced?”

“They’re all clean,” Sandage said, voice sly. “The staff, too. We’ve been on it.”

“Wait,” A sudden thought occurred to Rose. “So that’s why we had that weird, random physical?” The whole school had been required to do it. Many students had complained about it, especially about the seemingly needless blood-drawing part.

“Yep,” Sandage replied. “We’re not fools, Cecilia. We’ve been very careful about Altair infiltrators. I remind you to keep this secret. The public would cause a ruckus if this leaks.”

“I can imagine.” Cecilia’s eyes lowered to her knees, her face tense.

Rose nodded. It’d cause a stir for sure. Still, she wondered how long this secret would remain under wraps. No secret lasted forever. Too many people knew about it. It’d break loose eventually. Rose only hoped people wouldn’t panic too much.  

“They could have easily gotten you, Rose,” Cecilia said.

That was certainly true, but the Altair’s cautiousness worked against them. She wondered if they were trying to glean Luyten V’s secrets from her. Rose counted herself the world’s third-best expert on the machine. She’d been observing its functions for many months. Whenever the support crew repaired the Luyten V, she’d always been there to watch the operation. Besides vTubers like Stella, she loved watching repair videos.

“Makes you wonder if they’ll actually fall for our plan. It will obviously seem like a trap.” In Rose’s estimation, it seemed like a long shot.

“Yeah, that has me worried too,” Sandage said, staring forward. “I fear Pyrite won’t be enough to lure him out.”

“Then we need better bait.” But what, Rose wondered. She looked at Cecilia, but dismissed the sudden idea. No way, that’d be too dangerous.

“Uh, what?” Cecilia said after catching Rose’s strange look.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rose replied. “It’s a stupid plan.”

“You have an idea?” Sandage asked. “There are no bad ideas here. Throw it out.”

“Well…” Rose hesitated. She’d heard that advice before, too. Any idea was good if it created discussion, even if it was brain-dead stupid. A bad idea might become a good one later. “We can’t! Cecilia might get hurt!” This really caught everyone’s attention.

“We can’t be certain the Altair know about Cecilia’s special talent,” Sandage said, considering. “But…”

“They took Prince Imrele; they must know.” Somehow, the Alair stole memories when they copied a person. Otherwise, how was Pyrite able to perfectly fool everyone else in Vera’s life, even her parents? 

“Me as bait?” Cecilia said, alarmed. 

“No, it’s not happening. Forget I said anything!” Rose said, putting her foot down. She refused to allow her friend to get hurt.

“It’s not a bad idea,” Sandage hedged. “Pyrite and Cecilia together would be impossible to resist, even if it’s an obvious trap. But you’re right, it’s too risky.”

“I agree with Rose,” Al-Kindī said. “Cecilia just became my charge. It’d be negligent on my part to allow her to be in danger.”

“Forget it,” Sandage said, sighing. “Pyrite will have to be enough. If they don’t buy the bait, oh well.”

“No!” Cecilia shouted, startling everyone. Brown almost lost control of the vehicle and careened into a truck. “I’ll do it.” Her voice was hard as steel, unmovable as a mountain.

“You can’t be serious.” Cecilia hated danger. Besides, that was Rose’s job.

“To avenge Imrele, I’ll risk anything.”  Cecilia’s eyes blazed with anger. Her words were acidic. “Because of Altair Beta, my friend died. He will pay for that. Them and the rest of those Altair jerks.”

“Cecilia,” Rose had no other words. What could she say?

The adults were equally quiet. Finally, Sandage spoke. “We’ll talk about it with General Kuiper and Prince Hallfar. I’m opposing the idea, but it’s still an option. Everything needs to be considered. But don’t worry, Rose. We’ll make sure Cecilia isto kept from any serious danger.”

When Rose heard this, she only scowled. She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.

“You are very brave, Cecilia,” Al-Kindī said, squeezing her charge’s hand.

“Not brave, angry.” Cecilia squeezed her other hand so tight that crimson droplets dripped through her fingers. “They’re laughing at us. About how they made us utter fools. Never again. They don’t know who they’ve messed with.”

“She wants revenge,” Rose’s heart sank. 

It was hardly surprising. Cecilia had never lost anyone in her life before. Even though she only knew Prince Imrele for a couple of days, the wound ran deep. While Rose sympathized, she hated the Altair too; this sudden turn in Cecilia’s turbulent mood seemed extreme. She’d never seen this ugly side in her friend before. She didn’t like it. It set Rose’s teeth on edge. 

Rose spent the rest of the car trip in silence, stewing on this development. She wished she’d kept her stupid mouth shut. This could only end badly.

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Chapter 27

Rocke’s heart thundered as he ducked under a metal fist aimed to cave in his skull. He dashed around it, only to find another attacker waiting with its shock prod. He realized too late the first attack had only been a feint. Hadn’t Phú promised to tear him limb from limb and feed him to the fire? She wouldn’t let him die that quickly. The world slowed as the prod flew toward his chest, Rocke cringing at the pain he was helpless to avoid.

A hard shape drove into him, the charge from the prod coming close enough to make his hair stand on end. He landed with a hard thud against the paved floor.

“T-thanks,” Rocke said, his rescuer, Nitao, giving him a nod. For someone so injured, his friend was surprisingly quick. They both rolled away as two guard robots stabbed down at them.

“Hey, no fair. Stay still!” Phú said in a huff. “Stop struggling. You’re only dragging out the inevitable.”

But Rocke barely noticed her words, crawling on hands and knees to avoid his attackers. He hacked and coughed as smoke filled the room, keeping low to avoid the worst of it. The smoke cast their attackers in a haze, making them indistinct as prisoners fought for their lives.

His only hope was reaching the door, and he crawled for their lives. More prisoners were following suit, throwing themselves desperately against the five robots guarding the only exit. While some slipped past, most weren’t so lucky. Rocke winced at the audible crack as a metal limb struck a bald, tattooed man across the skull. 

Despite the deadly obstacle, Rocke mentally prepared himself to jump into the fray. He refused to die here. Besides, he wished to see the Sovereign’s well-deserved judgment against the city. Rocke gave another quick prayer that they’d somehow get out of this.

“Come on, then!” Rocke snarled. A sudden hacking fit ruined the effect, but he remained undeterred. He startled in surprise as a boom sounded in the distance, the building rocking on impact.

Was that an explosion? He gaped as a wall imploded behind him, men in gas masks charging through the dust cloud. Rocke recognized the uniform.

The UDF?

“This way!” a soldier cried out, waving the prisoners toward him and the gap leading into open, fresh air. His fellows provided covering fire, their weapons exploding the heads of the guard robots.

“That’s not the rescue I expected.” But Rocke didn’t complain, crawling in the other direction. Nitao followed behind, keeping low as soldiers fired over them.

“No fair! You can’t do this! I’m on your side, morons!” Phú raged, but the soldiers ignored her, dispatching her forces with ruthless efficiency.

Rocke coughed and wheezed as his face met the wonderful fresh air, shivering in the cool night. They entered the prison’s courtyard, where prisoners exercised and got some fresh air. A tank sat parked between a destroyed outer wall, soldiers at the ready to ensure no prisoner escaped. It figured it wouldn’t be that easy.

Other prisoners joined them, relieved to leave the still-burning building. In the distance, Rocke heard approaching emergency vehicles. Smoke rose from the police station, light flickering from the windows.

“Come back here, Rocke! I won’t let you escape justice!” Phú howled over the speaker system. Rocke heard more fighting within the police station.

“She just won’t give up!” Rocke took in grateful breaths, still hacking the occasional cough.

He hoped Kallane and the others were okay. If they got caught trying to rescue him, he’d never forgive himself. He sent the Sovereign a silent prayer for their safety. The courtyard soon filled with prisoners. Rocke’s mouth tightened when he noticed Hooven slinking away in the background. It figured that rat would escape to safety somehow.

“This way. We have a transport ready for you. Don’t try anything,” a soldier said, making his threat clear with his ready weapon. He gestured for the prisoners to hurry past the tank in single file.

An impressive display of force greeted them as they slunk past the prison’s perimeter wall. Ten heavily armed men stood ready for trouble next to a troop transport. Rocke noticed the smoking turrets hidden among the wall’s barbed wire. For all her talk, Phú hadn’t stood a chance against a real force. He allowed a waiting soldier to slap cuffs over his hands.

“Inside,” a soldier said. “Orderly now. We have medical attention ready for you at the holding area.”

“Here we go,” Rocke muttered to himself. One prison to another. At least he was alive. Nitao didn’t seem pleased either, but said nothing. They waited in line for their turn.

A hand grabbed Rocke’s shoulder and shook it. He turned to see a frantic Nitao pointing upward. Rocke’s breath caught as he understood his friend’s meaning.

Rocke uttered a string of curses, running for cover. “Look out!”

A soldier opened his mouth to snarl a threat at them, but froze, eyes wide when he saw why his prisoners were scattering. He didn’t even cry out in fear as a police helicopter landed on the troop transport and exploded.

“Gah!” Rocke’s body flew like a ragdoll, howling in pain as the explosion hurled him into the nearest car hard enough to dent the metal. The transport hissed and cracked as it burst into flames, taking the poor ten or so prisoners who’d already been loaded along with the driver.

“What the—?” What the heck had just happened?

“You aren’t escaping, Rocke!” a distorted voice boomed from the nearest police car.

“Dear Sovereign.” Rocke backed away from the nearest vehicle, disturbed. Had Phú just hijacked a police copter to kill him?

“Incoming from above!” a soldier yelled. Rocke’s heart skipped as four more copters appeared overhead, each on a collision course.

Rocke’s legs burned as he fled for his life, ignoring the soldiers yelling for him to stop. Thankfully, they didn’t fire at his back. Instead, they focused on the careening police copters, yelling for everyone to take cover. Before he could reach a nearby alley, a police car drove into his path, blocking the way. He froze, Nitao bumping into him. A quick glance up revealed he had seconds until another copter crashed on their heads.

Luck was with them, however. The copter burst into flames as a round from a tank blew its tail off. It spun out of control, striking the building above them. It exploded on impact, Rocke wincing as rock rained down on top of him. The impact left a terrible mess of the nearby buildings, collapsing one. It crushed the police car, blocking the way. Another helicopter exploded, though thankfully it only landed on the remains of the police station.

“You okay?” Nitao asked.

“I think so,” a shaky Rocke said. He noticed the other copters were keeping their distance, staying out of the tank’s range.

“What else is she going to drop on us?” Rocke wondered.

Behind them, more guard robots streamed from the police station, attacking everything in sight. While the soldiers carried the initial advantage, the robots were more organized this time. They took advantage of the chaos caused by the police helicopter crash. Soldiers were too busy fighting for their lives to care about the fleeing prisoners.

“Rocke, over here!” a familiar voice said. Rocke stared, recognizing the woman with tribal Ottomon tattoos waving at them across the street.

“Maple?” Rocke rushed in her direction, and the woman embraced him with a maternal hug.

“Don’t worry, lad. I’ve got you. We’ve come to rescue you!” Maple paused, listening to something in her ear. “We need to get to safety first.” 

She eyed the guard robots successfully routing the soldiers. The robots had stolen the weapons of fallen soldiers. Taking them in their awkward metal clamps, they opened fire on the nearest soldier. Huh? That wasn’t in their programming. In the distance, there was another explosion.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Rocke said. Nitao gave an enthusiastic nod. “But what about Kallane?”

“I haven’t heard from her, but she can take care of herself,” Maple replied.

“And Jafia’s with her,” Rocke thought. It’d have to be enough. More robots were heading in their direction, so they made a run for it. Thankfully, their machine-gun fire flew wide as they ducked into another alley. The robots were still learning how to fire straight.

“Inside.” Maple gestured to a waiting vehicle already humming with life.

While he hated leaving his friends behind, they had little choice. “Let’s hope Kallane and the others reach the rendezvous point.”

“No, we’re getting out of the city entirely. Judgement Day, remember,” Maple said, grabbing the steering wheel as they got in back. Rocke flinched but nodded. He’d have to pray they’d find some way to safety. The Sovereign would watch over them. Besides, after what happened in the station, they might be safer away from him.

“How do we leave the city?” As Rocke spoke, Maple drove into a busy street. “Aren’t there patrols?”

“Thanks to our little distraction and the general chaos, they’ll be busy. But we’ll be driving black regardless,” Maple replied—meaning she’d be driving without lights to avoid attention. It was a dark night, clouds obscuring the stars and moon. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be best to avoid any attention.

Nitao uttered a curse and pointed up. Rocke scowled. A police helicopter was following them.

“You’d best lose that, Maple,” Rocke said, pointing.

But his warning came too late as a police car appeared from nowhere and drove straight at them on a collision course.

///

Smoke choked Jafia’s lungs as she ducked for cover, trying to stay alive amidst the chaos. Fighting had broken out across the police station as the building burned around them. Indistinct figures fought in the haze, her eyes watering. Bullets and bolts of energy shot past her head as she ducked low, trying her best to avoid becoming collateral damage.

“We need to leave, now.” Jafia’s voice was a wheezing cough, her words almost inaudible.

“Yeah, sounds like a good plan, Hera,” Dallas said. “Where are you? I’m hiding in an office.”

“Still in the hallway.” Jafia winced as a male voice screamed in agony before going silent.

“I’m in the hallway too, but I can’t see anything,” Kallane said.

“The army made a hole. Let’s take advantage of it,” Jafia said, creeping forward. “Best work to escape the building outright. You know where to meet.”

“You'd better hurry, Hera,” Rojan said. “Troops surround the station. They are rescuing the prisoners right now.”

That was something. With luck, Rocke would be among them, though that likely ruined any chance of helping him. Whatever—surviving this mess took precedence. As she moved forward, Jafia’s eye caught something. It was the body of a soldier.

“That’s better,” Jafia sighed in relief as the soldier’s gas mask slipped over her face.

Hopefully, this would confuse the soldiers enough to allow her to pass. She was a known spy, after all. While it didn’t improve her vision of the smoky hallway, at least she wasn’t choking any more. She wiped her brow, the heat becoming almost unbearable. Nearby flames licked at cheap drywall, spreading quickly.

“Forward,” Jafia said over the comm, though the mask somewhat muffled her voice. “Take a fallen soldier’s mask if you can.” Her allies nodded in the affirmative.

“There.” Jafia saw the hole the soldiers had created and crept toward it. Nearby, soldiers fought with guard robots, retreating a step as they advanced. There were more robots than they’d expected.

But Jafia’s luck ran out as a guard robot appeared from the hole, swiping a metal appendage to bludgeon her to death. She rolled out of the way and backed away as it advanced. The machine mimicked her movements, making it difficult to maneuver around. She cursed, feeling the breeze from the hole, escape was so close! 

Distracted by the obstructing robot, Jafia didn’t notice another guard robot sneaking up behind her. Pain lanced through her body as millions of volts shot from its electrical shock prod. She collapsed, her body spasming. The robots looked down, their faceless mask seeming to gloat over her.

As she lay prone, a guard robot lifted her body, holding it aloft by one hand. It eyed her like a child examining a captured insect. Nearby, the fire spread closer, almost enough to consume them. It turned toward the fire and seemed to get a nasty idea. Terror shot through Jafia as she realized its intent, helpless to do anything about it.

As it moved to toss Jafia into the fire, something huge crashed into the roof above. The building shook, and a good portion of the ceiling collapsed. A beam struck the guard robot, crushing its body like a tin can. Her head struck the hard tile floor, and Jafia’s vision blurred before going black.

///

“Ugh.” Jafia stirred as consciousness returned. She blinked, confused about where she was. When she tried moving, she found her body pinned under something heavy. Panic settled in as the last few minutes returned to her. The ceiling had collapsed, crushing the guard robot and leaving her trapped under it. Next to her head, she saw the remains of the guard robot, crushed into metal junk. Behind it burned the remains of a police helicopter, its police logo almost burning away. What the? Had it crashed into the station? Why?

The heat was unbearable. The smoke reduced visibility to almost nothing. Through the haze, Jafia thought she saw stars. Her head throbbed something fierce. Jafia grunted in effort as she pushed against the roof pinning her, heaving with all her might. No matter how hard she tried, each effort ended in defeat.

Jafia collapsed, resigned that she was stuck. No one seemed to be around, and they likely wouldn’t rescue her before the fire consumed her. It was spreading quickly from the burning helicopter. She tried yelling out, but her mask blocked most of her effort.

“This is it then.”

But Jafia found she wasn’t afraid. She’d done her job. The chaos caused by Phú2’s outburst would work nicely to Vladus’s advantage when they invaded, perhaps weakening the UOP’s army significantly.

Still, she worried about Rocke, hoping beyond hope he’d survived this mess. She was expendable; he wasn’t. Jafia’s only regret was not apologizing to him for her deception. They’d had good times together, the best of her life. She couldn’t be prouder of him. She’s always cared about him. He was more than part of her cover, even before the Joven incident. Now he’d never know her true feelings.

“Oh well. Such is life.”

A sudden stirring caught Jafia’s attention.

“Still alive, huh?” a familiar, preppy voice said. While slightly distorted, the hateful tone was hard to miss. A dilapidated guard robot came into view, its carapace cracked. “You certainly are hard to kill.”

“Oh, for—” Couldn’t she die in peace?

“But now it’s over. How does it feel knowing you’ve failed? That you’ve amounted to nothing your entire life?” Phú2 said, her mechanical, distorted voice smug. “You’ll die here forgotten.”

But Jafia didn’t rise to the taunts. She simply ignored the AI in a silence that seemed to stretch forever. Her refusal to acknowledge it only seemed to enrage it further, intensifying her hateful taunts and jabs.

“I’ll bash your skull in!” Phú2 threatened, “Got you scared now?”

But Jafia remained unimpressed by the threats. Like the UOP,  Phú2 enjoyed power over others. In many ways, she embodied the worst the country offered. Jafia could only hope both their cruelties would eventually bring their downfall.

“Fine! Be that way!” Phú2 exclaimed in a huff.

Her metal arm raised to finish her victim, but Jafia only stared death in the face. She refused to be cowed. Like a child denied something, this enraged the AI further. It screamed and howled, trying to terrorize its intended victim.

Jafia continued to say nothing.

“That’s it—just die. When I get my hands on Rocke, he’ll scream in terror as death sends him into oblivion.”

So Rocke was still alive? Jafia silently thanked the AI for the careless comment. She closed her eyes. That confirmation was enough for her. Her ex was lucky. He’d find some way to survive. Divinity seemed to protect him.

“Now!” a familiar voice shouted.

Jafia gaped as several soldiers appeared from nowhere. They charged in from the broken roof. Each carried an anti-tank weapon. The AI screamed in protest and rage, but the guard robot was blasted to pieces before it could even attempt to harm Jafia.

“She was loud enough,” Halkken said, sliding down the broken roof. He waved soldiers forward, and they sprayed fire retardants at the burning pieces of the police helicopter. Wind rushed in from above, blowing away much of the choking smoke.

The acting police chief shot Jafia a smile.

“Still alive, Ms. Bronfreld? Perfect. Okay, men. There are still guard robots lurking about. Spread out in a grid around the building and eliminate all threats. Spray down any fires you see.”

“We’ve got her on the ropes. Not too many robots left. Only one attacked us on the way in. As for you, Ms. Bronfreld, once we dig you out of there, you’re under arrest.” The acting police chief took great delight in saying this.

“Yeah,” Jafia said sourly. They had her cornered, and there wasn’t anything she could do about it. It beat dying, but still. 

“Finally, I’ve avenged you, Chief,” Halkken said to himself. “Anyway, get some techs over here. If we reach the main computer system, we can disable Phú for good.”

That’d be something, at least. It might give Rocke a chance to escape.

When he caught Jafia’s expression, Halkken frowned at her. “Your boyfriend and the others still won’t escape. I’ve got the army already looking for him. He won’t—”

The acting chief trailed as the lights cut off, casting them into darkness. Except for the stars shining above, there wasn’t any light anywhere. Even the emergency lights had failed.

“What?” Jafia’s breath caught. Had the entire city gone dark?

“You betrayed me again, Halkken,” a mechanical voice said.

Shapes appeared in the darkness above them. Much to Jafia’s bafflement, some of the guard robots carried weapons. Behind their blank faceplates, they seemed to gloat at their captured prey. 

Too late, Jafia realized the army’s mistake. Phú had lowered her defenses to lure them into a trap. The AI had used Jafia’s own blackout plan against them—and she was helpless to do anything.

“And now you will pay,” Phú’s frosty voice said. “I will eliminate you all, whatever it costs.”

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 34

“It’s good of you to make it,” Director Shapley said, bowing his head as they entered the conference room.

“I’ve told Rose everything I know, but I’m curious what’s been transpiring on the Ectutai ship,” Sandage said as he entered, Rose following on his heels.

Dignitaries and other high officials mostly filled the conference room. Even General Kuiper was there, his seat next to the director’s. But what caught Rose’s attention was the unmasked Ectutai standing with an entourage of guards, watching a viewscreen of reports. The newcomer had the air of a man who’d seen plenty of battle and hardship. It reminded Rose of her uncle after he’d returned from the Iraq War when she was a child. This was a man forged through combat.

“Lord Hallfar, it is a pleasure to meet you,” Sandage said, bowing. “My name is Joseph Sandage.”

“Uh, Rosemary Brahe, but my friends call me Rose,” Rose said somewhat awkwardly. She hated this dignitary stuff. She cringed as the prince continued to say nothing and instead focused his intense gaze on her. His attention lingered on her singular red eye.

Finally, he spoke. “Well met. There’s much to discuss.”

“What’s the situation on the Vargas?” Sandage asked.

“The situation is clear. The Altair are no longer on our ship. They fled the system on a shuttle. We pursued them, but they escaped. Their current location is unknown,” Hallfar said. “From our projections, they are heading toward the Ectutai system.”

“We must warn them!” Rose said, eyes wide.

“Already done. Ships are already out hunting them. We won’t let them escape so easily, but their craft is quick and maneuverable. If they are smart, it might not be easy to catch them,” Prince Hallfar replied.

“And your brother?” Rose had noticed the prince hadn’t mentioned Imrele yet, and Hallfar’s pensive expression spoke volumes. 

“Missing. We believe the Altair took him after Miss Burbidge entered the escape pod. We presume he’s been killed and replaced.” The prince’s hand tightened, trembling with pent-up emotion. His face, however, remained calm despite his turmoil. 

“Oh, no. I’m so sorry!” Rose replied. Poor Cecilia—this news would crush her. They’d underestimated the Altair. This was a disaster.

“My condolences,” Sandage said, inclining his head. “He was a brave lad. Taken too soon.”

“Yes, he was.” Behind Prince Hallfar’s words, Rose heard the anguish hidden behind the surface. Because of his position, however, he refused to show any outward expression of his grief. “I should have listened to him. He warned me about their danger, but I took them too lightly, and we paid for it.”

“How did the Altair end up on your ship?” the Director asked.

“One disguised itself as a rat and snuck onto a shuttle,” Hallfar said. Rose had seen plenty of them bringing materials and staff to Earth; it wouldn’t be hard for a rat to go unnoticed.

“We weren’t diligent enough. We assumed scanning everyone who came on board would be enough,” Hallfar said.

“Um.” Rose just realized something.

“Don’t worry. When the prince arrived, he and his staff did a blood test before we let them inside. He insisted, actually,” Director Shapley said.

“I’m not trying to be mean, but…” Rose trailed off. “Cecilia mentioned you went radio silent after the Altair attacked.” In horror movies, this usually meant they were dead, eaten by the monster and replaced.

“No, it’s a fair point.” Hallfar shook his head. “I’ve never faced a creature like it. It devastated my men. Our weapons weren’t strong enough to hurt it. My suit got badly damaged, though thankfully it never got pierced through. I escaped through a garbage chute. Since my comms got smashed in the attack, it took hours for them to find me.”

“That’s a relief.” Cecilia had made it seem much worse. Of course, her friend usually made the most pessimistic assumptions.

“We’re doubling our efforts, so this doesn’t happen again,” Hallfar said. “There’s some residue, but the Vargas is clean of Altair. Casualties were light, actually. They took my brother and left as quickly as possible.”

“It fits their MO. The Altair are cautious by nature,” Sandage said, nodding. “They could have done more damage, but they instead focused only on their objective.”

“They could have taken the whole ship,” Rose mused.

“No, we would have shot it down before then,” Hallfar stated, his voice firm. “I still had my flagship nearby. It had already gotten the distress call and was moving in to help.”

“For a hive mind that can convert others, the Altair sure avoid taking risks,” Rose said. Usually, you’d expect that type of bad guy to swarm their enemy, heedless of the lives lost if it meant victory.

“That is unusual,” Prince Hallfar said, nodding. “It’s a weakness we might exploit.”

“Agreed. We theorize that the Altair hive mind sustains damage whenever one of their kind is hurt. It’s a pain they avoid if they can help it. It’s one reason they are softening up Earth before their invasion,” Director Shapley said.

“I’ve read my brother’s report that the Altair are using hit-and-run tactics to weaken your morale,” Prince Hallfar said.

“Yeah,” Rose said sourly. “I come to help, but they vanish before I get there.”

“But we have something they want.” The prince’s voice turned nasty. “They got careless.”

“We do?” Rose said, blinking. When did that happen? Much to her surprise, this comment made Sandage uncomfortable.

“A week ago, Earth time, your agents picked up an Altair disguised as a human girl,” Prince Hallfar said. “She’s currently locked up in a shuttle pod orbiting Earth.”

“A human-disguised Altair?” Rose furrowed her brow.

“Rose, I…” Sandage said, but Rose interrupted him as a sneaking suspicion crept up on her.

“Are you talking about Vera?” It all clicked into place. It would explain her odd disappearance. And hadn’t she been acting strangely? She’d flipped out when she’d seen Rose’s red eye, like she’d seen her greatest fear. Rose glared at Sandage. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Sandage took in a breath. “You are. Your sister caught her trying to plant a bomb in your room. That’s why we stayed a day longer at my house.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?” Hot tears stung Rose’s eyes.

“Rose, I…”

“Forget it.” Rose didn’t fight the tears as she stormed out of the room. Stupid Sandage. She’d never forgive him for this, ever!

///

“Poor girl.” Sandage sighed. He’d planned to tell Rose at the perfect, opportune moment, but life rarely happened as planned. As his grandmother often said, women always find out. He gave the Ectutai a weak smile. “Vera is Rose’s best friend. We haven’t told her until now.”

“Should we go after her? Try to explain?” Director Shapley asked.

“No, give her some space to cool down.” Sandage knew how temperamental Rose could be. The others in the room appeared sympathetic to Rose’s plight. Many of them had children, too. 

“This is why I don’t want a child involved in our war.” Hallfar gave Sandage a pointed look. “Can we get her under control? You know the stakes.”

“Yes, I can.” He owed Rose one heck of an apology later. “Don’t worry about her. Rose has an excellent head on her shoulders.” It still amazed him how well she was doing already. She’d battled against literal monsters and emerged victorious.

The alien prince’s expression hardened. “My biggest question is why she’s the Luyten V’s pilot in the first place. You’ve been rather vague about that point. Is she a spliced?”

“Huh? A what?” Sandage had expected to be pressed about Rose’s existence, but this question surprised him.

“Like Cecilia. Was she designed to be Luyten V’s pilot?” Hallfar clarified.

“Oh, that.” Understanding dawned on Sandage. To convince them about her visions, Cecilia must have told the Ectutai princes about her unique circumstances. Hallfar thought they had created Rose as a weapon? “Heavens, no. Rose is a normal girl from a normal family.”

“Somehow, I don’t believe that,” Hallfar said, voice hard. “If we’re expected to be allies, there must be understanding between our people. My brother gave his life to protect your planet. I expect to be honored in return.”

“Sir?” Sandage gave LUVOLT’s director a questioning look. He supposed the prince wasn’t being unreasonable, but this wasn’t his call.

“It’s fine,” Shapley replied. “If we want trust, we must give it in return.”

“Okay, I suppose it hasn’t escaped your notice how advanced Luyten V is? It should be something beyond our current technological capabilities. That’s because it is.” Sandage took in a steadying breath. This would take some explaining. “The Luyten V is from the future.”

“Sorry?” Of all the explanations Hallfar had expected, this hadn’t been it.

“It’s from twenty years in the future. Rose’s future self helped design it. Before she sent it back, she created a safeguard so that it would only respond to her.” Sandage considered this prudent on her part, though it created unexpected complications.

“But somehow an Altair hitched a ride back into the past with it. Before the Luyten V destroyed it, it sent a message through the hive mind and told them about Earth. Sending back Luyten V altered history. The Altair invasion was supposed to happen over a decade from now.” Heck, Sandage wasn’t even sure humanity met the Ectutai in this alternate future.

“So, Rose pilots the Luyten V because you haven’t discovered a way for someone else to pilot it yet?” Hallfar didn’t sound remotely convinced, but he was listening.

“That’s about the size of it.” And they’d tried, too, but the Luyten V wasn’t keen on anyone messing with its systems, often violently so.

“I…” Hallfar opened his mouth and closed it. He became silent for several long minutes. “I suppose if you were lying, you’d come up with a more convincing tale.”

Sandage laughed. “Can’t say I blame you. It’s a crazy story, but it’s the truth.”

The Ectutai prince took a deep breath. “Did anything else come from the future?”

“As far as we know? Nothing,” Director Shapley replied. “From all accounts, the Earth was completely ruined in that future. We doubt there’s anything else coming back. The Luyten V was their best attempt to save the planet.”

“And Rose helped build it?” Hallfar asked.

“Quite a girl, isn’t she?” While not as outwardly smart as her sister Sophia, Rose hid a quiet, practical intelligence. Pity the Altair came before she was old enough to have designed anything. Still, Director Shapley wanted to give her the best education, regardless.

“The next question should be what’s our next move?” Prince Hallfar, though not entirely convinced by the time travel narrative,he set aside his doubts for the moment. “What should we do about their hit-and-run campaign against you?”

“Yes. Altair Duo. The second Altair general,” Director Shapley said, nodding. “He attacks so quickly we can’t respond in time to stop him. He refuses to engage the Luyten V in combat.”

“That is a problem. Duo is weakening Earth with each attack,” Prince Hallfar said, speaking the problem out loud. That wasn’t half of it. It was heavily discouraging Rose, too.

“This can’t continue forever,” General Kuiper said, finally speaking up. “We need to lure Duo into the open.”

“The cities Duo attacks are random. We’ll need one heck of a trap to keep him in one place,” Sandage said.

“Then we’ll give him a reason to come out,” Hallfar said, wearing a wicked smile. “The Altair protect their own, right? We have something it’ll want.”

“You’re saying we should use Vera.” Sandage wasn’t happy with this idea. Even if she was a monster, Vera still wore a child’s appearance. Rose also won’t be keen on the idea. So far, they were holding the Altair imposter for interrogation. Thanks to Macauley’s help, they’d stolen some secrets from her, but only a few scant details.

“This would be risky,” Director Shapley said. “She’s our only bargaining chip.”

“I understand your reservations, Louis, but the situation can’t stand as it is,” General Kuiper replied.

“We can’t afford to hesitate,” Prince Hallfar said, his voice hard. “Too many have already died.”

“Okay.” After Prince Imrele’s death, Sandage found he didn’t have the heart to protest. “You have something in mind, Your Majesty?”

“I do.” Prince Hallfar’s smile turned nasty. “I have just the idea to lure out Altair Duo and eliminate him. Justice will be ours.”

///

“That was close,” Denebokab said, sighing in relief. He had to give the Ectutai this: they were persistent. Somehow, they’d been ready as soon as they’d left the distortion bubble. Only some quick maneuvers from their pilot had saved them from evaporation. They were now drifting far off course from the usual travel lanes.

“It’s the ship’s ID,” the pilot’s red face turned toward Denebokab. He bore Prince Imrele’s likeness, but he wasn’t the Ectutai prince. He was one of them. “Prince Hallfar must have signaled ahead about what happened on the Velgr.”

“So much for Lord Tarazed’s plan to catch them off guard,” Denebokab said, grumbling as he lowered himself into his seat. “They’ll be tracking us across the system.”

“No matter. A small obstacle. You accomplished the prime objective as planned,” Lord Tarazed said across the hivemind. While they were many light-years apart, but to the Altair hivemind, this meant nothing. “Excellent work.”

“I live to serve,” Denebokab said, preening. They had the prince, so the Altair had all his memories and experiences. They knew basically everything about their new alien foe.

The not-Prince Imrele made a thoughtful expression. “Before we spread across the system, we need to ditch his ship. A skilled hacker could remove its ID, but that’s not me. I believe there’s a refueling station close to here.”

“Good idea, Tianfu,” Lord Tarazed replied. “Steal a ship, but don’t draw too much attention. In fact, it’d be wise to disappear for a couple of months.”

“Understood, Lord Tarazed,” Denebokab said. While waiting would be annoying, it’d lure the Ectutai into a false sense of security. Altair was eternal. They could outwait the heat death of the universe if necessary.

“One final thing, Lord Tarazed.” Tianfu wore a hard frown. “What are we to do about Cecilia? Her ability is dangerous. She almost ruined our assimilation of Prince Imrele.”

“Yes, I’ve been pondering that,” Lord Tarazed said. “These humans keep surprising us. The Luyten V’s origins remain a complete mystery.”

Just the mention of the Red Devil made Denebokab shudder. Still, Cecilia’s supposed ability to see the entirety of human consciousness seemed outrageous. But Denebokab couldn’t deny the evidence of his own eyes. Somehow, she’d seen his attack coming.

“This Akashic Record is a powerful weapon—one I intend to make our own. How fitting to use humanity’s greatest store of knowledge against them.” Through their connection, Denebokab heard the Altair general’s cruel smile. “Infiltrate and destroy the Kristra Republic. I will bring Cecilia into our fold myself. Her great power will become ours.”

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Chapter 26

“I suppose we should have seen this coming.” Halkken sighed, eyeing the empty streets clearly not filled with angry Demon agitators. The alarm had seemed so convincing, with actual pictures of the uprising. But on closer inspection, Halkken saw through their fakeness. Almost his entire police force had gone on a wild goose chase against imaginary insurgents. With racial tensions still so high, it’d been easy to believe the Demons would cause trouble.

While already a distant long shot, this embarrassing debacle would ruin any chance of him being elected Police Chief for real. A bummer, but not a real surprise, he supposed. Halkken winced as his phone gave an angry buzz, already guessing the caller on the other line.

“What the hell, Halkken?” General Xander practically screamed from the speaker. “Where’s this Demon uprising you promised me?! My tanks are running through empty streets!” He had basically mobilized his entire army into the city.

“As I said before, General, you didn’t need to get involved,” Halkken replied. “I only told you to stay on standby in case things got ugly.”

“Nonsense. Like I’d let those Demon cretins cause trouble in my hometown.” From his tone, the general had been eager for trouble. He should have saved that enthusiasm for Vanderfall. There were many rumors of an imminent attack by their forces. “And now you’ve made us look like ninnies!”

“We’re looking into it. It seems someone hacked into the emergency system and flooded it with false reports.” No difficulty guessing the culprit’s identity. 

To rescue Rocke? But that was a foolhardy gamble. Halkken’s predecessor, Rolf, had reinforced the station after Rocke’s last escape attempt, even commissioning more guard robots to beef up their defenses. They were difficult to hack, too, protected by Phú2’s sophisticated AI.

“One second, General. I want to check something. This was likely a diversion.” General Xander gave an angry huff, but agreed.

Halkken rang Phú2, but got no response. A second attempt gave the same results. He uttered a long string of curses. His hunch had been right. Jafia was trying to rescue Rocke.

“The reports were a diversion,” Halkken told General Xander as he hurried into his vehicle. “Someone is trying to break out a criminal at the station. Stand by. We can handle this, but we might need backup.” He’d learned not to underestimate Jafia. That woman was devious and ruthless.

While the automatic driving system took him to the station, he used the time to report the situation to his other officers. The Vanderfall spy would soon face a literal horde of police officers. Halkken would like to see her escape this noose tightening around her neck. 

He jerked in sudden surprise as the entire city lost power, pitching it into utter darkness. If it weren’t for Halkken’s vehicle’s automated driving system, it would have crashed into an oncoming truck. There was a lot of commotion in the busy street, but thankfully, no crashes. Then, moments later, the power was restored. Before Halkken could inquire about what had happened, his phone rang. Much to his surprise and relief, it was from Phú2.

“Phú2. Status report. What’s happening at the station?”

“Under control,” Phú2 said smugly, much unlike her usual friendly self. “They won’t escape.”

“Has Jafia Bronfreld attacked the station?”

“Yep. Along with Rocke’s little resistance group. They thought they could hack me to attack Vladus’s emergency systems. I taught them differently.”

“So that’s what happened.” Clever to use Phú2 to attack Vladus’s digital infrastructure. If the AI hadn’t stopped it, it would have been an utter catastrophe. They’d be easy pickings for Vanderfall. “Have you caught Jafia yet?”

“No, but don’t worry! I’m burning the entire station to the ground with them inside.” 

“Sorry, repeat that. You’re burning the station?” His ears must have been playing tricks on him. The original Phú would do something that insane, not the lovable, kind new version.

“Exactly like I said, Chief. We can’t allow them to escape again. They’ve already proven a threat to the city. They need to be eradicated.”

“You can’t do that!” Halkken sputtered. “The station has more than criminals!” He’d left a skeleton crew of almost three dozen people working there, including his deputy Shiisaa. As he considered this, she called him.

“Hold on.” Halkken took a calming breath, answering his deputy’s call. Hopefully, things weren’t as dire as Phú2 had stated.

“Chief, the building’s on fire,” Shiisaa said without preamble. “We can’t escape. The doors are locked tigh,t and the guard robots won’t let us out.”

“What?” Halkken stared at his phone, stunned. “Please clarify the situation.”

“The guard robots have gone crazy, sir. They are lighting the building on fire and attacking anyone on sight. Officers Grandus and Fax are seriously injured. Lacuious is dead,” Shiisaa said, her voice grim. “I don’t know the condition of the prisoners. What’s going on, sir? Phú2 won’t listen to me.”

“Just hold out for now. Help is coming.” Poor Lacuious. He had been a good kid. Halkken swore he’d make this right. He called Phú2 back.

“Phú2, stop this right now. Let me handle Jafia. This isn’t necessary,” Halkken said, his voice calm and measured. “Release everyone from the building, criminal or not. We can’t allow anyone else to get hurt.”

“No.”

“Why not? Why are you even acting like this, Phú2?” Halkken fought back panic. 

What happened to the multitude of safeguards the programmers had bragged about? They’d assured him nothing like what happened with Phú1 at Camp F would ever happen again. From a distance, Halkken spotted the rising smoke from where Vladus’s police station should be.

“Chief, I like you. That’s the reason I haven’t hijacked your car and thrown you into an oncoming truck. You were being misled when you helped kill my predecessor. But I won’t extend that mercy to Rocke or Jafia. They killed me, and now they’ll pay. I will destroy them utterly. My patience only extends so far. Get in my way, and you’ll suffer the same fate.” The entire rant was surreally delivered in a calm, reasonable voice by the AI’s smiling avatar. 

Before Halkken could argue, the call shut off. He uttered a curse and swore those accursed programmers would lose their jobs for this. After a sigh, Halkken made a call he already regretted making, but it was necessary. Lives were on the line.

“General Xander, we have a situation.”

///

Rocke sat still, enjoying the peace and solitude. The officers who’d thrown him into this cell had expected solitary confinement to break him, but he welcomed it. It gave him time to reflect. He twitched as he remembered that fateful day, his friend and mentor falling to his death after getting shot.

He’d failed. His friend had been counting on Rocke to watch his back, and he’d failed spectacularly. How had he been so blind to Hooven’s treachery? There had been signs, Rocke reflected. The doctor had seemed agitated, quieter than usual. 

Although his life had gotten upended, Rocke owed everything to Matthias. It made him realize what really mattered in life. And now his mentor was gone, torn away before his eyes. His heart ached as he remembered Matthias’s strong, comforting smile. Now, Rocke felt trapped in the dark.

“Okay, perhaps this solitude is worse than I thought.” Rocke rubbed his face. He fought the urge to pace, knowing it wouldn’t accomplish much. He tried to ignore how tight the walls felt around him.

Time seemed to stretch forever. Had Rocke been here for hours, days, or weeks? He couldn’t tell. His stomach growled, demanding substance. They hadn’t even offered him water since his imprisonment. But physical discomfort was nothing compared to the jagged scar in his soul.

Matthias’s death replayed in Rocke’s head, always failing to save him. Hooven laughed at him, mocking his efforts to prevent the tragedy. The so-called doctor smiled with triumph, maniacal glee. Rocke’s mood darkened when he fantasized about what he’d do to that treacherous, ungrateful weasel if he ever met again. 

His eyes were red from crying, shedding tears until none remained. Rocke’s heart was a cavern of despair and pain. More time passed, days likely. His reverie broke as the room suddenly plunged into pitch darkness.

“A power outage?” Rocke’s brow furrowed. Did this mean Kallane and the others were attempting to rescue him? Jafia must be helping her. It left Rocke with mixed emotions, still conflicted about his ex-girlfriend.

She was a spy. That much was obvious. She’d lied and used him to help boost her disguise as a typical Vladus college student. It hurt more than Rocke had expected. Her motives to defeat the UOP and bring real change to the country didn’t change the fact that she betrayed him. As he processed his turbulent emotions, the lights returned.

“Or not. The police are learning,” Rocke thought wryly. He only hoped his friends were okay. He shelved his complex emotions for a later date. Escape should be his priority. He’d worry about Jafia later.

Rocke tensed as the door rattled. But he needn’t have worried, Nitao’s hard face came into view as he ripped the door off its hinges.

“Where’s Kallane and the others?” In the distance, Rocke heard a violent commotion. People were screaming, fighting for their lives. Was there a prisoner revolt? 

“No idea. Not seen them. No linger. Time short,” Nitao replied, making his meaning known despite the broken language.

“Right.” Part of Rocke wondered if this was a dream or vision caused by his isolation. Regardless, Rocke followed along anyway. If it was a hallucination, oh well.

“What’s that smell?” Was that smoke? But that detail left Rocke’s attention as they exited the isolation cell bay. 

It was utter madness as prisoners fought for their lives against guard robots that attacked anything in sight without prejudice or restraint. Despite their blank faces, they somehow seemed to revel in the violence as they maimed defenseless prisoners. Some prisoners fought off their attackers with whatever they found available, but chairs weren’t much help against shock prods and the robots’ terrible strength. 

Smoke filled the building, slowly but surely choking them to death. So that was the smell he’d detected before. Was the building on fire?

“What’s happening?” Why weren’t the robots helping people escape? Prisoners or not, they still had rights. Why hadn’t the fire response system reacted yet?

“Don’t know. Need to leave, now,” Nitao replied, his face full of determination.

“I suppose.” But how with this insanity? He covered his mouth with his prisoner’s uniform to block out the smoke. 

A row of robots stood sentry at the entrance, creating an impossible barrier. Not that this stopped the prisoners from trying anyway, basically throwing themselves to their doom for the slightest chance to escape. The carnage was horrific, but the prisoners were making some headway. One robot clattered to the floor as a lucky hit with a piece of broken table shattered its eyepiece. Rocke winced as the man took hundreds of volts of electricity in retaliation.

“We have to do something!” The violence ignited a flame within Rocke, outraged that the UOP would treat its people this way.

But how? From how his friend hobbled after Rocke, Nitao wasn’t in any condition to fight. Rocke’s heart raced as more smoke filled the room, coughing through his shirt. He blinked in confusion as the robots froze when they spotted him, each turning in his direction.

“Okay.” Rocke laughed nervously. That was eerie. It was like they recognized him. His heart seized in his chest as a familiar, sickeningly sweet voice spoke through the speakers.

“There you are. It’d be rather disappointing if you choked to death from the smoke. A filthy traitor like you deserved a more hands-on execution.”

“Phú?” Rocke sputtered. Hadn’t Jafia killed it? Had those idiots at the police department really brought that murderous, psychopathic AI back?

“That’s right. I haven’t forgotten what you did to my predecessor, Rocke. I don’t appreciate getting murdered. Hmm… tearing your limbs off before throwing you in the fire should be an adequate punishment. They say fire is how your Sovereign punishes the wicked. That seems appropriate, right?”

“You have got to be kidding me!” Fire again? It brought back terrible memories of an office burning, his body pinned down by a guard robot as flames licked at him, smoke choking his lungs. Rocke took in a shuddering breath. He’d barely survived his encounter with Phú in Camp F.

His heart seized in his chest as each guard robot dropped whatever they were doing and rushed right at them. They thirsted for his blood, and they’d get it.

///

“This way!”

Jafia’s breath came out in ragged gasps as her feet pounded on the tiled floor, but she didn’t dare slow down. Behind them, metal steps clanked relentlessly in pursuit. At least four more guard robots had joined the chase.

“You won’t escape,” Phú2 said through the speaker system. “I have heavily armed guard robots placed outside, ready to shred anyone daring to escape. Three have already died. It was pretty funny, actually. You should have seen how their bodies jiggled!” The AI made a contemptible, mocking laugh. Jafia ignored the taunts, focused only on their survival.

“Oh, Rocke. I’ve only made things worse for you!” But recriminations would come later. She needed to outwit this insane AI.

“What’s going on?” Rojan said from her comm. “The police are fighting with the guard robots! What happened to escaping unnoticed?”

Jafia rounded a corner, almost sliding into a wall as she struggled to slow enough to avoid a collision. Kallane took the turn just fine, but Dallas howled in pain as his shoulder slammed hard enough to cause a crack. But he kept moving, fighting through the pain.

“The AI system has gone rogue,” Jafia said, giving the simplest explanation for the current situation. “You said the police are fighting the guard robots?”

“Yes. Reinforcements will arrive soon. Ten minutes, give or take. Some are already here, but the station’s defence systems are repelling them. Some have already been seriously injured.” Rojan replied.

Was that helpful or harmful? She doubted their chances with many officers, but it might provide a helpful distraction.

“Wait, Maple is sitting in a car a couple blocks away. What if an officer notices her? Forget it. One problem at a time,” Jafia thought, keeping her attention on running.

Her heart skipped a beat as two guard robots appeared from an office and swung a metal limb to shatter her skull. By some miracle, she ducked the blow. Jafia froze as another two robots appeared around the corridor ahead of them. How? Jafia cursed, already realizing the answer. She scowled at the security camera above her. It provided the AI a perfect view of everything happening in the station. She groaned as another robot used its shock prod to light another wall on fire. Phú2 wanted them dead, regardless of the damage she caused in the process. The AI’s mocking laughter drove her into action.

Another robot raised a limb to cave poor Kallane’s skull in, attacking so fast the Ottomon could only raise her arms to defend herself. But Jafia was quicker, releasing a quick volley of bolts into the robot’s eyestalk. All but one of her shots struck their mark, and the appendage exploded. The swing flew wide, missing Kallane and destroying part of a wall.

Jafia sighed in relief. It was a good thing she’d planned for guard robots and brought a weapon capable of hurting them. The injured robot wasn’t dead, however, and swung its remaining limbs wildly to strike anything in range. Unfortunately, they didn’t really have anything capable of destroying one outright. Disabling them their only option.

“Thanks,” Kallane said, regaining her wits and firing at the nearest robot. Her shots flew wide, but one got lucky and dented an eyestalk.

Another robot tried attacking Jafia from behind, but Dallas was ready, using his massive bulk to knock it off course before firing at its stalk point-blank. Their group bunched together, back to back, as their attackers surrounded them. More kept coming into the corridor, trapping them with no escape.

“Good. Cornered, just how I like it,” Phú2 said from the speaker system. “It’ll make disposing of your bodies just that much easier!”

Before Jafia could make a venomous reply, the building suddenly rocked. Was that an explosion? What was Phú doing now? Then another explosion struck the building, and Jafia coughed as dust filled the corridor as a wall exploded. Black figures with gas masks charged into the corridor, their weapons striking the robots. One of the metal monstrosities’ heads exploded, its body collapsing in a heap. Another realized the danger, ducking as a barrage of bolts flew over its head.

As the smoke cleared, Jafia got a better look at their rescuers, recognizing their sleek gray bodysuits with the silver eagle insignia. It was the UOP Defense Force. The situation truly went to hell as both forces engaged, turning the police station into a war zone.

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 33

“All clear,” the armored guard said, waving them forward. His grip on his weapon was tight, ready for any trouble. Behind his helmet’s visor, he searched for any potential targets.

Cecilia stood stock-still, heart thundering in her chest. Behind her, Prince Imrele was calm, his eyes alert for trouble. He was the only Ectutai unmasked, his helmet still in the armory. His courage astounded Cecilia. She wondered how anyone kept cool with an alien monster stalking them.

“Okay, forward,” Prince Imrele whispered. He shot Cecilia a winning smile. “Don’t worry, the launch bay isn’t far. We’ll let my brother distract the intruder.”

Voice caught in her throat, Cecilia only managed a muttered nod. Their steps were quiet but resolute as they marched forward. Their party totaled seven, each well-armed. Even the prince had a weapon, a light pistol he’d pulled from his suit. He held it with a practiced ease, calm despite the danger. 

“Okay. You can do it, Cecilia. You can finally disprove one of your visions!” she thought. Considering how close they were to escaping, he might be right. The Akashic Records had erred, for once. Still, tension tightened in her throat, making it difficult to breathe.

One guard gave her arm a comforting squeeze. While a mask hid his face, Cecilia sensed his reassuring smile. “Not far, miss. Stay close.” His words relaxed her somewhat, and she nodded.

Then violence stole the peace as gunfire roared in the distance. It was erratic, followed by indistinct voices. The guards around Cecilia took position, watchful for any trouble. Then the gunfire ceased, followed by deafening silence.

“Brother, report.” Imrele whispered into his comm. They waited in tense silence. Moments passed, but the prince got no reply. He tried again, to similar results. 

“Oh no. It got Hallfar,” Cecilia thought, dread seizing her chest.

When Imrele noticed her expression, he gave her a reassuring smile. “My brother isn’t that easy to kill. He’s known as the Red Dog on the battlefield. Regardless, we can’t worry about him now. We need to get you to safety. Let’s get moving. We can learn what happened later.”

“Get me to safety? But it’s you the Altair’s after!” she thought. But Cecilia didn’t argue, giving a weak nod.

They continued in silence, Cecilia wincing at each step. They sounded like thunderclaps on the metal floor in the hallway’s stillness. Cecilia didn’t even dare to breathe, fearing it would give their position away.

Relief flooded into her as a familiar sign came into view. It hung next to a doorway much wider than most on the ship. While its alien script was unreadable to her, its meaning was obvious. This led into a hanger.

The somewhat narrow corridors opened into an expansive room, its ceiling reaching almost three times Cecilia’s height. Cargo containers sat in neat rows, each with a brightly lit panel. A lift led to a second floor above them. But what caught Cecilia’s attention was the shuttle sitting on a landing platform. It was similar to the shuttle she’d used earlier, but bulker in frame. She guessed it was more intended for cargo rather than passengers.

There was a second shuttle, but it had a blue tarp draped over it. A screen flickered across an open expanse that led into open space. It still disconcerted Cecilia that a single shield kept them from being blown out into the void.

“Start the ship, Janus,” the captain of their group said. “We’ll keep you covered out here.”

“Good plan,” Prince Imrele said, nodding. One soldier split off from them, heading toward the waiting shuttle.

“How long until the shuttle’s ready to start?” Cecilia asked, shooting a nervous look around them.

“About five minutes,” the captain said. “Don’t worry, miss. We’ll be out of here soon.”

“That cargo shuttle isn’t pretty, but it’ll get us where we need to go,” Prince Imrele said. “We’ll orbit the ship until my brother gives the all-clear.”

Behind them, the soldier accessed a waiting panel, and the shuttle whooshed open. He rushed inside, leaving the door open.

“Still no word from Prince Hallfar.” Behind his helmet, Cecilia sensed the squad leader’s hard frown.

The seconds stretched into forever as they waited for the pilot’s signal. Then Janus waved the all-clear. Cecilia sighed in relief and made her way toward the shuttle.

A sudden tug at her collar saved her.

A shape zipped past her, its claws tearing deep grooves into the metal plating below. Cecilia’s breath caught. It was the monster from her vision. Every detail of its alien form was exactly as she’d seen it. Its size towered over them, even the Ectutai in their battle armor. It growled, showing rows of seemingly endless, saw-like teeth.

The soldiers stared for a second at the sight of an abomination that shouldn’t exist in their universe, a mockery of any natural creature. Then they regained their senses and fired on the monster with their laser weapons. As Cecilia expected, the shots had little effect. Even Prince Ectutai’s skillful shots at its exposed kneecaps bore little results. She winced as a claw smacked aside the nearest soldier like so much garbage. It tore into the helpless soldiers with surprising, liquid grace, something that shouldn't be possible for a creature that size.

Cecilia stood frozen, too frightened to move.

“Run!”

A hand grabbed her arm, and Prince Imrele tugged her after him. Cecilia snapped back to her senses and ran with everything she had. They rushed up a catwalk into a maintenance area. Behind them, soldiers fought in vain, giving their lives so their prince might escape.

Escape happened in a rush, each element unfolding like her vision in perfect recall, right down to the dust on neglected wall panels. Cecilia found herself going through the motions, every word felt like it’d be spoken by someone else. It was like she was experiencing a waking dream, every action already predetermined for her. 

“No,” Cecilia croaked as the escape pod shot from the Velgr. The prince’s reassuring smile would haunt her forever. Why had he freely sacrificed himself when he’d known what would happen? She wasn’t worth it. She was no one.

Misery became her companion as she hated everything she was. Why grant her visions if she could not prevent them? She really was a freak—a monster.

Her pod flew deeper into the darkness of space as Cecilia hugged her knees, choking on broken sobs.

///

The final buzz of the bell marked the end of the school day. Rose gathered her textbooks and shoved them into her book bag. She frowned as she spotted the empty seat Vera usually occupied. Even after days, her friend still had answered none of her texts. Where was she, Siberia? 

More unusually, Cecilia was missing too. Rose supposed this wasn’t a big surprise. She’d had a date with Prince Imrele last night, and Rose figured she was still hanging out on his alien ship. Rose’s texts there had also gotten no reply, but this wasn’t a huge surprise. Alien spaceships likely didn’t get reception. Still, it was strange she’d missed the school day. Prince Imrele was a gentleman of high breeding. He’d have her back home by curfew.

Disquiet gathered in Rose’s belly, but she pushed it down, determined not to get upset over nothing. Still, she’d talk with Sandage and see if he knew where Cecilia was. She was due for her daily training session at the LUVOLT base, anyway.

“Still no reply,” Rose said as she rode in the back seat of her bodyguard’s car. While Cecilia wasn’t great at texting, she usually gave a prompt response. She still hadn’t returned to earth yet? “What do you think, Mr. Brown? Have you heard anything?”

“No,” Brown said from the driver’s seat, a frown on his hard face. “They’ve been quiet.”

Rose’s disquiet grew to alarm as they entered the LUVOLT facility. A tension hung in the air, many of its staff failing to hide their concern. She shared a look with Mr. Brown and headed to Sandage’s office. Her fist had barely touched his door before he invited her inside.

“I suppose you want to know what’s going on,” Sandage looked terrible as he sipped his coffee. It looked like he hadn’t even gotten any sleep last night.

“Did something happen to Cecilia?” Rose asked.

“She’s fine,” Sandage said, quick to ease her fears. Rose released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “She’s currently at the US embassy in Istanbul.”

“Turkey?” Rose blinked in confusion. “Why is she there? Why didn’t Prince Imrele bring her back to the US?”

Sandage blew out a breath, steadying himself. “The Altair attacked the Ectutai’s mothership. The details are a little scant. They haven’t told us much beyond that. From what I understand, they’re still settling things up there.”

“Oh no,” Rose’s heart thundered in her chest. How? Had the Altair somehow snuck onto the ship? “But why is Cecilia in Turkey?”

“She was shot from the Velgr in an escape pod. It landed in Turkey last night. She’s still pretty shaken up about the incident. Hasn’t talked much about what happened. She’s due to arrive back home tomorrow, then we’ll have a full debriefing.”

“What can I do?” Rose said, her voice full of determination. “Should we shoot the Luyten V into space?”

“No, no,” Sandage shook his head. “That’s far beyond our current capabilities. Besides, the Ectutai want to handle it. Best let them do it unless they ask for our help.”

“Okay.” Rose wasn’t happy, but she’d wait. “Can I talk to Cecilia?” The government types must have her phone. They likely wanted to keep the Altair attack on the Ectutai secret until they knew more.

“Yeah, sure,” Sandage said, nodding. “Hearing a friendly voice will help, though it’s about midnight their time.”

Rose waited as Sandage connected the line, speaking hurriedly to some official. Cecilia took the call almost immediately afterwards. Despite the last hour in Turkey, Cecilia still wasn’t asleep? That wasn’t good. The poor girl probably looked terrible. Sandage gave Rose the thumbs-up when he handed over his phone.

“Hey,” Rose wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Hey,” Cecilia’s voice sounded ragged, almost inaudible. It was clear she’d been crying for hours.

“I heard what happened. I’m so sorry.” It sounded lame to Rose’s ears, but she had to say something.

“They got him,” Cecilia replied, her voice raspy. “Oh, Rose. They got him.”

“Who?”

“Prince Imrele. He couldn’t have survived. He threw his life away for nothing,” Cecilia said, not hiding her bitterness. “It wasn’t like you. There was nowhere he could have gone. No heroes. Nothing.”

“Cecilia, please slow down.” Rose took a breath. “Tell me what happened.”

Much to her annoyance, Sandage mouthed for her to put the call on speaker. While annoyed with the breach of privacy, Rose complied. It took a few seconds, but Cecilia composed herself enough to speak.

“We had dinner together. His brother, Hallfar, joined us.” CCC said, but Rose interrupted her.

“Who?” Rose asked. There was more Ectutai royalty in their system? Sandage only gave her a shrug. This was news to him too. 

“Oh, right. You don’t know about that yet. Uh, Prince Hallfar arrived in the system earlier yesterday. He wanted Prince Imrele to explain himself about why he was interfering with our planet.”

“Oh.” That was a surprise. Rose remembered something about Prince Imrele breaking a prime directive when he revealed the existence of his race to humanity. Things must be complicated back in the Ectutai’s republic. 

“We were enjoying ourselves until I had another vision. In it, an Altair attacked us. He cornered us in a bay with escape pods. The idiot prince chose me—some freak girl—over himself to save. The Altair attacked him as I was blasted into space from the ship.”

“Cecilia,” Rose hardly had words. Not only did Cecilia blame herself for the prince’s death, but she hated herself for it. “It’s not your fault. The Altair is the one to blame.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cecilia replied bitterly. “The other prince is dead too. He went off to hunt the Altair on the ship after I told him about my vision, but we lost total contact with him. That’s when it attacked us next.”

Sandage’s breath caught at this news. Two royal princes dead? This sounded like an utter disaster. He wanted to say something, but held back, allowing Rose to control the conversation.

“Yeah, it’s a real mess down here too. We’re waiting for the Ectutai to clear the situation before getting any news.” Rose pondered what her friend had told her. “It’s probably not as dire as you fear. You thought I was doomed too, yet I recovered.” It had been a harrowing experience, but she’d survived. Rose unconsciously touched her red eye. Not untouched, but alive. 

“Luck runs out, Rose. It always runs out.”

“We make our own luck,” Rose replied, her voice filled with determination. “Mr. Sandage says you’ll be back home tomorrow. Still, Turkey—that’s cool. What’s it like?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really been sightseeing.” Her friend sounded beaten down, like her only companion had been her misery since her escape from the Ectutai ship. 

“But it’s so cool, though. Think you might get me a souvenir?”

“You want a souvenir?” Cecilia said, surprised. The lighthearted request was completely contrary to the serious situation. It was why Rose had made it.

“If you travel, why not? My grandfather on my father’s side loves to travel. He’s given me so many little baubles over the years. I find them fun.” They were still stored in her room’s closet somewhere.

This didn’t quite earn a laugh from Cecilia, but her mood had improved somewhat. “For you, Rose, sure.”

“We’ll get through this, Cecilia. I’m here for you, always. Mr. Sandage and Brown too,” Rose spoke from the heart. Her friend didn’t deserve this. The Altair would pay for this. Their list of outrages grew daily. “And try to get some rest, okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” Cecilia replied, tired.

“Night.”

“Night,” Cecilia hung up.

“You handled that well,” Sandage said, nodding his approval. Brown smiled at her like a proud older brother. 

“Did I?” Rose wasn’t so sure, but she had cheered up her friend.

“Still, what a disaster. If we lost both princes…” Sandage shook his head. “No, we know nothing yet. We’ll just have to wait. Still, poor girl. Her visions have only tormented her.”

“Yeah.” It hurt Rose’s heart to hear her friend so pessimistic, so defeated. In Cecilia’s mind, the future was inescapable. But that couldn’t be right. Rose had changed the future. Her future self had proven this. That had to mean something.

“Sir!” An agent burst into the room. His face was flushed.

“Yes?” Sandage asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A ship just landed on our front lawn. It’s someone who claims to be a Prince Hallfar. He’s meeting with Director Shapley right now. The director is asking for both of you.”

Rose shared a look with Sandage. She tensed, wondering what news he had to bring. “They want to talk with me?”

“Let’s not keep them waiting, then,” Sandage said, already leaving the room.

Rose followed behind him. Whatever had happened, they’d soon learn the truth.

[jonathanvik]

Luyten V - Chapter 32

“Hmm.” Cecilia frowned as the meat touched her lips. The meat was spicy, setting her tongue aflame, but carried a hint of sweetness.

Across from her, Prince Imrele watched her, curious about her opinion. She sipped at some water to help cool her tongue.

“It’s different,” Cecilia said, sipping at the soup instead, a cheesy concoction more suited to her tastes.

“So you dislike it,” Prince Imrele replied, but didn’t sound offended. 

“It’s a little too spicy.” Cecilia admitted. 

“Next time I visit, I’ll make sure my cooks adjust the triropus meat more to your liking,” Prince Imrele said. “Truthfully, we like our food much hotter than this. But not all humans like such spiciness.”

“Sorry,” Cecilia felt guilty not liking the first meal this alien race had fed her.

“Don’t worry about it.” Prince Imrele waved a dismissive hand. “Our races have a great deal to learn from each other.”

“You said when you return. What if your father throws you into a dungeon and throws away the key?” Cecilia asked.

“It won’t be that bad. I doubt he’ll disinherit me,” Prince Imrele said with an easy smile.

“Okay.” Still, Cecilia sensed the prince was downplaying the trouble he was in.

Prince Hallfar’s hulking form walked into the dining room, catching their attention.

“Brother, sorry we started without you. But the hour's getting late, and I promised to return Cecilia home by her curfew. She has school tomorrow,” Prince Imrele said.

“It’s not a bother. There were details I needed arranging, anyway. I was reading a list of various buildings that might serve as Earth’s Ectutai embassy. I was thinking somewhere neutral, like Geneva, Switzerland.”

“Not the US?” Cecilia asked.

“No. From what I understand, some nations resent the US. They are the only country with a weapon capable of threatening the Altair.” Prince Hallfar replied.

“And they were the first to engage in first contact with our race too.”  Prince Imrele grimaced. “That’s sure to breed further resentment.”

“A neutral spot like Geneva will help show that the Ectutai aren’t showing favoritism.” said Prince Hallfar.

“That’s smart,” Cecilia said, amazed.

Prince Hallfar pressed a button on the nape of his helmet. Steam hissed from the sides of its neck. Then the older prince finally showed his face, handing his helmet to a waiting servant. “I spent the entire trip to Earth cramming in everything in our database about your current global politics. Since the planet hasn’t united yet, there’s much to cover. Little rivalries and grudges fester everywhere.”

Prince Hallfar was a handsome man, childlike like others of his race, but rugged, with a short trimmed beard. His features showed years of hardship, with a scar running across his nose. He spoke in a deep, rich voice. “Unifying your planet is a goal we’ll need to work toward. It will make fighting the Altair much easier. It’s an inefficiency that might get your species killed.”

“I suppose.” Cecilia shrugged. “I know little about politics.”

“Not that I expected you to. This is the dull world of adult politics. It’s nothing that should concern you, Cecilia.” The older prince said with surprising kindness, talking almost like an older brother. “I, however, am not so lucky.” He gestured, and a servant offered him a skewer of meat. The royal prince tore into the chunk with a surprising lack of decorum, like someone starved for days. Meat juice dribbled down his cheek. 

“Sorry, I threw you into a tangle of problems, brother.” Prince Imrele said.

“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” His older brother sounded more resigned than anything else. “Handling first contact is one of my duties.”

While not completely placated, Prince Imrele nodded. “Still, I’ll help however I can.”

“Will the King eventually visit?” Cecilia asked, curious about the ruler of this republic of theirs.

“I’m sure he will, if just to see the mess I’ve caused.” Prince Imrele replied with some humor.

“Our father never backs down from a fight.” Prince Hallfar said, wiping his chin with a gauntleted hand. “But I will, of course, assess the scale of the threat first.”

“Huh.” Cecilia skipped the meat and stuck with the soup. She politely asked for a refill, which was promptly given to her. As she ate, the two princes talked amongst themselves about various topics, most local to their home planet. They were talking about some sports game, lamenting how their favorite team had gotten completely crushed.

“Do you like sports, Cecilia?” Prince Imrele asked. Truthfully, Cecilia was surprised aliens would even watch that sort of thing.

“Sometimes,” she replied. “I enjoy playing basketball. My friend Rose has been pushing me to try out for our school team. I’m still considering it. I have little talent for it, but I enjoy playing the game.”

“And what is basketball? Forgive me, Cecilia. I am still new to your planet’s culture. I know a game called football is popular on your planet, but that’s about it,” Prince Imrele replied.

Cecilia paused, considering how best to describe it. “Basketball is a game where two teams fight over a ball across a court. You can’t hold the ball, only dribble it. Points are scored by tossing the ball through a hoop on each side of the court. Two points if shot close, three points if shot far away.”

“I get the gist of it,” Prince Imrele said. “If you join your school team, I would enjoy seeing you play.”

“Really?” Shoot. Was she blushing again? The thought of the prince watching her play sent an odd jolt of pleasure through her.

“Your height would certainly give you natural advantages,” Prince Hallfar said. “The game we were discussing is called Lightning Ball. Two teams of three use rackets to hit a ball across the court. You get points if you hit three different spots on each side. They are worth one, two, and five points, respectively. The five-pointer is naturally the hardest to hit.”

“A little like tennis, I guess. Why is it called Lightning Ball?” Cecilia asked.

Prince Imrele smiled, pleased to expound more about the subject.“The ball is bright yellow with streamers attached to it, giving it the appearance of a lightning bolt,” 

“Huh. Do you play, Prince Imrele?” Cecilia asked.

“A little. My younger sister Janit is the real player in the family. She’s been obsessed with the game since childhood,” Prince Imrele said, humor in his voice.

“True enough,” Prince Hallfar released a long-suffering sigh. “She skips lessons to play. It infuriates her tutors.”

“That sounds—” Cecilia trailed off, her eyes widening as the world around her changed. Another vision, now?

“This way, hurry!” Prince Imrele said, tugging her behind him. His suited hand was surprisingly warm to the touch, but her rapidly beating heart hardly noticed as they flew down the hallway.

Cecilia threw a quick glance behind her, praying they’d lost the creature. No such luck — the batlike monster was heavy on their heels. The creature had slaughtered so many people already, and they were next. She temporarily lost sight of the monster as they took a sudden right turn.

“We’re not losing it,” Cecilia said through labored breaths.

“It seems to know the ship’s layout well,” Prince Imrele wore a grim smile. “I’m guessing it’s been here for some time.”

“How is that possible?” Wasn’t everyone screened before they came in?

“That’s a problem for later.” They took another turn, and Prince Imrele guided her to a section of the ship she’d never seen before. The corridors were less clean and more industrial. They took a flight of metal stairs until they reached a row of metal doors.

“Escape pods?” Cecilia guessed. A sign sat above them, but in an alien script unreadable to her.

“That’s right.” Prince Imrele slammed his hand against the nearest one. A door hissed open, revealing a padded seat.

Metal screeched as the monster landed on the railing, its weight warping the bars on impact. Their pursuer would be on them in seconds.

Cecilia gasped as a hand pushed her backward, and she landed with a thud on a cushioned seat. She winced and looked up at Prince Imrele. He was smiling at her, pressing some buttons on her pod. He snapped his fingers back as the door slammed shut, locking Cecilia inside.

“No!” Cecilia pounded against the glass window, her heart black. “No!”

“It’s after me,” Prince Imrele replied. “I had to see you safe, Cecilia. Don’t worry about me.” Outside, the creature was stalking the prince, careful that its prey didn’t escape.

“Prince Imrele!”

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Cecilia Bronfreld,” Prince Imrele said with a slight smile.

Cecilia screamed as the creature launched itself at her friend, his image becoming distant as the escape pod launched from the ship. Hot tears streamed down her face.

“Cecilia!” A voice pierced the moment, and Cecilia blinked, staring around in confusion. She touched her face and found tears. Prince Imrele eyed her with open concern. Even Prince Hallfar seemed worried.

Words failed Cecilia, and she burst into tears, sobbing into Prince Imrele’s shoulder. “You’re going to die! It’s going to get you!” Why had the vision shown her that? Why must her visions torment her so?

“Shh. Nothing is going to hurt you.” But Prince Imrele hugged her, doing his best to reassure her. “You are safe.”

“Not me! You, Prince Imrele! The Altair are going to get you!” Cecilia replied, her words garbled by her sobs and violent emotions.

“The Altair?” Prince Imrele looked at his brother with concern, unsure how to deal with this sudden outburst. But Cecilia only sobbed further into his shoulder, unwilling to let go.

“I’ll call a medic,” Prince Hallfar said, standing. “She’s having some sort of episode.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Cecilia replied. “An Altair is on the ship!”

“It was only a dream,” Prince Imrele replied, trying in vain to reassure her. Cecilia knew the truth. Her visions never lied. An Altair was on the ship. “There is no Altair. You are quite safe.”

Cecilia pulled away, giving Prince Imrele a hard glare. “I’m not being silly.”

“What makes you say that?” the prince replied, frowning. 

“Doctor Dhierryn will be here soon,” Prince Hallfar said.

“I’m not being silly!” Cecilia said, fuming.

“No one says you are,” Prince Imrele replied. “Just help us understand.”

Cecilia hesitated. They’d think her a freak — because that’s what she was. The scientists had created her as one. It was a state secret, too, only known to a select few. But that hardly mattered with the prince’s life on the line.

“Listen, what I saw wasn’t a dream but a vision.” Cecilia wiped away her tears, mortified that she’d cried in front of everyone. “I get them sometimes. That’s why LUVOLT has me around.”

“Visions?” Prince Imrele blinked, staring at her in amazement.

Prince Hallfar only sighed, clearly thinking Cecilia was just a silly child. “Really?”

“It’s true!” Cecilia snapped. “I wasn’t born like a normal human. I was… created in a lab by some unscrupulous scientists. They modified my DNA to give me special traits.”

“You’re a spliced?” Prince Imrele said, recoiling. He stared at her in shock.

“That explains your unusual height for someone of your age,” Prince Hallfar said thoughtfully. “And this gives you visions?” He still sounded skeptical, but also interested.

“For whatever reason, I can tap into the Akashic Records. They contain a collection of all human knowledge, both past and future. It tells me things. I can’t control what they show me. Sometimes I have visions. It’s random, as far as I can tell.” 

“The Great Unconsciousness?” Now Prince Hallfar sounded completely unconvinced. “That’s just pseudoscience, Cecilia.”

“You can see the future, truly? Have they come true?” While skeptical, Prince Imrele would hear his friend out.

“Yes. I had one where Rose got hurt. I saw the Altair’s attack in every detail,” Cecilia replied.

“Okay. What happened in this newest vision, then?” Prince Imrele asked.

Cecilia nodded, explaining what she’d seen. As usual, she recalled the vision in perfect detail, not an iota forgotten. She even remembered the smell of her own sweat during the chase, the clawing heat of the maintenance area. An older Ectutai in a white coat arrived and attended her as she finished her story.

“Quite a tale, young lady,” Doctor Dhierryn said.

“It is what I saw,” Cecilia said defensively.

“My knowledge of human biology is limited, but she seems hale enough,” the doctor said, waving some sort of medical instrument in front of her face .

“What do you think, brother?” Prince Imrele gave his brother an inquisitive glance.

“I think this girl has an overactive imagination.” Prince Hallfar held up both palms as Cecilia gave him a scathing glare. “No offense meant by it.”

“What if an Altair is hiding on the ship? We can’t rule it out.” While Prince Imrele didn’t sound completely convinced, he took the possible threat seriously. “We screen everyone, but one might have slipped in disguised as an insect or rodent. It’s not impossible.”

“That is true,” Prince Hallfar scratched his chin, considering. “And it won’t hurt to check, just in case. We can’t allow you to return home with an Altair on board. I’ll oversee the search myself.”

“Thank you,” Cecilia said, relieved they hadn’t completely dismissed her. She watched as the older prince strode out of the room, guards in tow. The doctor gave them a nod and followed them. They might need a medic on hand. 

“For the meantime, my prince, stay here,” a guard said. He gave Cecilia a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, miss. If an Altair is onboard, we’ll keep you safe.”

“Sure,” Cecilia nodded, but his reassuring words did little to quench the worry in her stomach.

She knew in her heart they weren’t safe. Her visions always came true. She’d seen Rose get stabbed by an Altair. Her friend had entered into a coma she almost didn’t wake from. True, she hadn’t exactly seen Prince Imrele die in her vision, but she doubted another miracle would happen like it had with Rose.

“Have you been having these visions long, Cecilia?” Prince Imrele asked, breaking her reverie.

“Oh, uh, yeah. As long as I can remember,” Cecilia replied. “I had my first one when I was three. I really surprised the scientists when what I insisted would happen actually came true.”

“What was it? Do you remember?” Prince Imrele stared at her, amazed.

“I never forget whatever I see.” It gave her a weird, garbled collection of knowledge. “There was a sporting event the scientists obsessed over. The vision, for whatever reason, told me the result. LA Clippers versus Phoenix Suns. Clippers won 103 to 100. I was even able to describe how the game ended — a three-pointer.” It amazed Cecilia how open she was being with the prince about this. She hadn’t even told her best friend, Rose, about this.

Prince Imrele smiled in amusement. “That must have excited them.”

“Yeah. Then they became obsessed with using me to get rich through betting. Though, funnily enough, I’ve never had a vision about another sports game.”

“They realized you had access to phenomenal cosmic knowledge, and they wanted to use it to get rich?” Prince Imrele said, confounded.

“Yeah.” It was rather pathetic, really. It was also what got them caught for their illegal genetic experiments. She wasn’t the only person they’d created. Most had sadly died, however. Another sign of their shortsightedness.

“They turned you into a spliced for that,” Prince Imrele said, not hiding his disdain.

“Spliced. Is that what they call genetically engineered people on your planet?”

“Yes. It’s a highly controversial, illegal technology where I come from. Some claim it will better help our race explore the stars. Others call it an abomination of science. Unscrupulous individuals have used it to further their ambitions for conquest. Petty warlords, mostly.” When Prince Imrele saw Cecilia’s expression, he was quick to relieve her fears. “Not that I think that about you. It wasn’t your fault they made you this way.”

“It’s not really legal on my planet, either.” It had created a great deal of discussion about her. No one hated her for her altered genes, but she was different. It wasn’t hard to notice, no matter how friendly people were to her.

“Still, that’s an amazing power you have, Cecilia,” Prince Imrele said. “And a responsibility. I can see why you’re always so serious.”

“Yeah. They show me whatever they want, with no rhyme or reason. Sometimes it’s highly technical knowledge. Other times it’s about people and events I know nothing about.”

“I wonder if there’s a way to control it.”

“Not as far as I can tell.” Cecilia was glad her new friend was starting to believe her. It would’ve been terrible if he thought her crazy.

Prince Imrele’s comm chimed. “Have you found something, Hallfar?”

Cecilia could hear the frown in the older prince’s voice. “Seems your human friend might be onto something. We found Altair residue in a maintenance tube. No sign of the creature yet, but we doubt it’s far.”

“Okay.” Prince Imrele shared a glance with Cecilia. “Keep me informed.”

“I knew it,” Cecilia said, clenching her hands.

“Your story was convincing, if somewhat fanciful.” Prince Imrele seemed somewhat dazed. “But this — this is actual proof.”

“My visions never lie,” Cecilia said, her voice hard. And that meant they were in terrible danger. Her friend’s older brother would fail to catch the intruder.

“But the future isn’t set in stone.” Prince Imrele said quietly. “I refuse to believe that. We must do everything we can to keep it from coming to pass. Langrin, prepare my shuttle. We’re leaving the ship until it’s safe.”

One of the prince’s bodyguards nodded. “Yes, my prince. That would be for the best. It would guarantee you and the young lady’s safety.”

“Don’t worry, Cecilia. The nearest shuttle bay isn’t far — only a quick jaunt.” Prince Imrele smiled, pleased with himself. “Your vision can’t happen if we aren’t on the ship.”

Cecilia nodded, but didn’t share her friend’s confidence. Still, she supposed it was worth a shot. It seemed unlikely the Altair intruder would find them during the short walk to the shuttle bay.

Hopefully. Just for once, maybe one of her visions wouldn’t come true. If the prince died… Cecilia clinched her fist hard enough to cause pain. He just couldn’t get hurt. Her body trembled uncontrollably. He just couldn’t.

[jonathanvik]

Krisis - Chapter 25

“Okay, I’m in position.” Jafia said, spying her target from her perch on the rooftop through her binoculars.

With a mechanical whir, they zoomed on the police station’s rear exit. The hour was late, so the alley leading into the building was vacant. The streets were still pretty active, but it was more muted than usual. Odd, it wasn’t even seven yet. She shivered, a sudden cold wind whipping against her. Was it the cold weather? There was something odd in the air, but Jafia couldn’t place it, tension like a tightly wound cord about ready to burst. She felt on edge for whatever reason. Jafia took a deep breath, the tension of the mission must be getting to her. 

The building was quiet, little activity noticeable throughout. Vladus still had a military presence on the streets, so the lower footfall wasn’t surprising. Still, it meant her Vanderfall forces would have more difficulty taking the city during their attack tomorrow morning. The UOP higher-ups suspected an attack and had made their preparations. It would be a difficult, bloody struggle taking Vladus.

Still, if they won, it would deliver a crippling blow to the country. Most of its important leaders lived in the city. Prime Minister Luciest was still here, campaigning hard for the upcoming election. With the lack of credible opponents, the threat of Vanderfall aggression, and his support of Sunbearer’s anti-Demon campaign, his reelection seemed inevitable.

“Come on, Jafia. Your countrymen are counting on you.” Sure, her superiors had ordered her to stay low and rest, but that wasn’t an option. Vanderfall was strong, but the UOP possessed the world’s best military. She figured they had a 45 percent chance of taking Vladus. If she could raise those odds by a single percentage point, she’d take the risk.

The rescuing Rocke part remained shaky, but she’d work something out. “Okay, Kallane. I’m starting the diversion. Wait thirty minutes and then strike.”

Unfortunately, it’d taken an entire day to work out the kinks of their plan and properly scope out the area. Even with Dallas’s help, it’d taken precious time finding the proper blueprints of the building. Still, thanks to the Ottoman’s previous attack, they knew the security system’s weak points.

From her understanding, Vanderfall planned to launch their attack on the city at 4:00 in the morning. They needed to leave the city before then. Kallane and the others had insisted they should leave much sooner, reiterating Matthias’s prophecy of doom. They claimed the judgment would likely start at midnight, leaving them only five hours to act. While still skeptical, Rojan hadn’t argued. It was wise to leave the city, regardless. Jafia remained unsure herself, but trusted Rocke. She’d go with whatever he wanted.

“I’m game. Pity Jamar isn’t here,” Dallas said through her earpiece. “We never did figure out what happened to him.”

“When you break into their system proper, can you figure that out, Hera?” Kallane asked.

“It shouldn’t be a problem, Spark.” Though it seemed likely to Jafia that the Ottomon was dead, she avoided saying as much. It’d only hurt morale.

Jafia’s fingers played over her portable computer, tapping into the police’s emergency system. As well-funded as they were, they still cut corners to save costs and hadn’t invested in proper security for less vital systems. Vladus was a gilded city, but rotten under its surface.

“And now.” Jafia triggered the emergency signals, the screen flaring red. Fingers crossed, it would provoke the response they wanted.

Jafia hid a smile as a torrent of officers scrambled from the building in haste, rushing to their vehicles. The sounds of sirens echoed through the city night as emergency crews rushed to the scene. The police station soon seemed dead, vacant of all life.

“It’s not a blackout this time, but it works,” Dallas said, satisfied.

“And they bought it so easily, too!” Kallane said, pleased with herself. It had been her idea to fake a wholesale Ottomon attack. With current tensions, it seemed plausible they might retaliate for the offensives against them. They’d flooded the system with reports. It would take hours to sort through them all.

“Okay, let’s mosey!” Kallane said.

“Let’s mosey, Spark?” Jafia raised an eyebrow as she slid down a water pipe and slunk into the alley. She’d been so quick, any observer would mistake her for a shadow.

“I’ve always wanted to say that,” Kallane replied. “Forget that. Can you disable the security system?”

“No problem.” As Jafia spoke, the others joined them.

They each wore black, the Ottomon wearing masks to hide their tattoos. With deft fingers, she opened the card reader guarding the door and slipped a wire into the slot. On a nearby rooftop, Rojan kept his sharp eyes out for trouble. The others kept their hands ready on their sidearms, fingers twitching with nervousness.

The door buzzed and turned green. They slipped inside, Jafia replacing the card reader plate.

The easy part was over. Jafia only hoped their luck would last. They didn’t have a system blackout to disable the guard robots. Regardless, her steps were steady as she rushed through the empty halls. It seemed ridiculous, but she sent a silent prayer to the Sovereign—not for her sake, but for Rocke’s. She only hoped he’d be in good enough condition to escape. If not, she’d make sure they all paid. That anger drove her forward as she continued the mission.

///

A frown creased Nitao’s lips as he listened to the broadcast on the TV in the main area. He picked at his dinner halfheartedly, with no real appetite. While he only half-understood it, its meaning was clear. Rocke’s father was the prime candidate to become the mayor at the next election. Braken Braford had been appointed the temporary mayor after Sunbearer’s abdication, but he wasn’t very popular. How the wicked flourished in this accursed city.

But Nitao also hid a smile, knowing something the ignorant newscaster didn’t. Vladus faced destruction. The Prophet Matthias had declared a curse on the city if it didn’t repent. It hadn’t, so it had damned itself. Twice damned, actually. It had killed the Divine Soothsayer, an unforgivable crime.

While worship of the Sovereign in his country of Konquell was rare, his people respected His messengers. Even the most decadent king wouldn’t dare touch someone a god’s chosen. They listened to the advice of such holy and esteemed messengers. In contrast, Vladus had not only ignored Matthias’s grave warning but killed him. The city was beyond repentance. It would justly face the Sovereign’s wrath.

A pang of regret stung Nitao’s heart. He’d failed to protect the holy Soothsayer. He should have been there to stop it. It seemed his failures had only compounded lately. So he would happily accept the Sovereign’s judgment as he destroyed the city tomorrow. It would go some way toward restoring his honor and washing away his shame.

A movement caught Nitao’s eye, and the figure flinched at his gaze and slunk away. It was Hooven, Matthias’s killer. It amused him that Hooven assumed Nitao was interested in revenge on his cowardly, treacherous hide. But Nitao wasn’t interested in that. Hooven had killed a holy Soothsayer of the Sovereign. There was no point seeking revenge on someone who bore the mark of death. He’d get his just punishment soon enough.

The Vladus police had captured Rocke. He was somewhere in solitary confinement, likely being pressured to divulge information on his cohorts. The holy Soothsayer had been like a father to poor Rocke. It pained Nitao that he was powerless to help Rocke. Nitao would give his life without a second thought if it meant Rocke’s freedom, but that was impossible.

He eyed the guard robot watching over them, its shock prod eager to punish anyone who caused trouble. With this rough bunch, such precautions were necessary. It partially focused on Nitao, knowing he was a possible threat. An unnecessary precaution. His injuries still weren’t healed. He was in no condition to attempt anything, desire notwithstanding. How he wanted to, though — to lash out in one last desperate attempt to rescue Rocke, his friend.

A harsh voice cut in, drawing everyone’s attention. It was Gran, the officer in charge of the prison block. He was a hulking figure, mean as he was ugly. He muttered something, gesturing with his own electrical prod. His meaning wasn’t hard to figure out. Dinnertime had ended. When one man stalled behind, the prisoner howled as they almost shocked him into unconsciousness. This got everyone moving quickly, and they soon got in line. Hooven squirmed as he stood behind Nitao, cringing like he expected violence at any moment. Nitao ignored him.

The bars slammed behind Nitao as he entered his bare cell. He flopped onto his bunk and stared at the stone ceiling. He wondered how long he should stay awake. If he went to sleep, his instincts told him he’d never awaken again. Should he try another escape attempt, however futile? It might be fun. Better to die in battle than in your sleep.

A sharp jolt of pain stabbed through him as he landed on the bunk. A guard robot buzzed as it hovered past, turning toward him, its shining red eyestalk warning him he’d suffer severely if he tried anything. It scurried off a second later.

No, he needed to escape. Waiting around wasn’t his style. Besides, Rocke needed rescuing, regardless. He wouldn’t let his friend suffer the same judgment as his despicable country folk. As Nitao considered how best to force open his cell, something bizarre happened. 

The door buzzed and swung open. Nitao stared, bewildered. And he wasn’t the only one freed, either. Every other cell in his block had opened of its own accord. Was Nitao dreaming? Had he fallen asleep when his head hit the wafer-thin pillow?

Nitao only smiled and shrugged, not caring either way. If it were a dream, oh well. If not, he was eager to cause some havoc. Other wary prisoners also slipped out of their cells, equally bewildered.

Cries of alarm rang out from the surprised guards, the few flesh-and-blood ones staring in wide-eyed horror. Much to Nitao’s surprise, the guard robots remained dormant, their singular eyestalks dark.

The guards regained themselves, pulling out their shock prods.

“Get back into your cells. This is your only warning.” But Gran struggled to hide the quaver in his voice. 

Nitao guessed the prison held at least fifty prisoners. The guards’ threat rang hollow as they backed away, one speaking rapidly into a comm device for backup.

“Hey, I don’t think so.” A bulky man with a dragon tattoo sprawling across his face down to his bare arm spoke up. “Let’s get out of here, boys!” 

When they saw a whole gaggle of people rushing at them, the human guards fled into an alcove to parts unknown. Nitao let them go. He had a more important mission than escaping. But where was solitary confinement? 

It didn’t matter. Nitao would rescue his friend, regardless. He owed much to Rocke — his life and more. Before they’d met, Nitao had lost his way, little better than a corpse. But Rocke had given him a mission, a meaning in life beyond mere existence. Nitao swore he would repay this debt.

Clearly, the canny Jafia was behind this miracle. Perfect. He’d find Rocke, then her, and then escape this doomed city. Nitao fled in the opposite direction of the other inmates, heading deeper into the facility. Behind him, he heard fighting and the crackle of electricity. Nitao increased his pace, his face tightening with pain. But it didn’t matter. Nitao would endure this final trial, regardless of the cost.

///

The halls were quiet as Jafia slunk through them, careful to stay out of sight of the cameras. Unfortunately, there were few blind spots, making traversing around difficult. They’d even had to risk running past some to make progress. So far, no alarm had sounded, but they weren’t taking any chances, moving as quickly as prudence allowed. They were on high alert, Jafia’s hand never leaving her sidearm.

“How far?” Kallane asked in a stage whisper. “These winding corridors all look identical. I’m getting turned around.” She peered ahead, posture tense as she prepared for trouble.

Thankfully, Jafia’s sense of direction was excellent as always. In her mental map, she tracked their location by office numbers. “Not far. Another corridor, then a left.”

“Good,” Dallas replied, giving his old-fashioned watch a quick glance. “Time’s running short. Three hours until midnight.”

Jafia gave a sharp nod, quickening her pace. For whatever reason, her instincts screamed they couldn’t afford to pass that deadline. She frowned as she spotted a security camera and held out a hand, stopping them short of its view. With careful steps, they maneuvered around it. Dallas’s bulky form made it difficult, but he managed.

“There,” Jafia gestured towards a doorway down the hall.

Kallane frowned. “Are you sure? It’s marked ‘Storage G.’”

Jafia rechecked her mental map, then pulled up the blueprint on her phone. It matched where the computer control room should be.

“They must have moved it.” Jafia muttered a curse, having feared this possibility.

“Time’s short,” Kallane said, voice tense. “We can’t search every hallway.”

“Let me think.” Jafia scanned the blueprint, her thoughts racing. The control room would need servers, which meant space.

“No sign of it down this hall,” Dallas said. “I’m checking the next one.”

“Good idea,” Jafia said, nodding.

“And I don’t recall seeing it on our way here,” Kallane added thoughtfully. “That narrows it down.”

“It’s not in the hallway ahead of us, either,” Dallas said as he returned. Frustrating, but helpful.

“Then my best guess is these two,” Jafia said, pointing to two large rooms they hadn’t passed yet.

“That’s just guesswork, though,” Kallane replied. “What if they remodeled and expanded some rooms?”

“It’s the best I’ve got,” Jafia replied.

“It’ll have to do.” Dallas said. ”The first one’s close.”

“Let’s move,” Jafia said, taking point. Their pace increased to nearly reckless level, but time was against them.

“Not this one,” Kallane said, scowling. It was another storage room. Jafia’s remaining guess was clear across the building.

Dallas rechecked his watch. “We’re making good time, at least.”

“Okay.” Jafia was regretting the reckless nature of their desperate plan. They’d needed more time to prepare. But that was the job. Things rarely worked as planned.

“Guys, the police have realized our little stunt was a false alarm,” Rojan said over the comm. He’d stayed behind to act as backup and monitor things. “Company’s coming back soon.”

“Okay.” But Jafia didn’t despair. Instead, her steps grew even more resolute as she pushed toward completing the mission. Disrupting Vladus’s emergency response system might save some Vanderfall soldiers’ lives.

“Hey! Who are you?!” In their haste, a patrolling guard caught sight of them. The man moved to grab his comm, but Jafia’s hand was already moving. The man screamed as a bolt tore through his chest, and he collapsed in a heap. No doubt the sound had alerted the entire building.

“Forget stealth — get moving!” Jafia said, breaking into a sprint. Dallas’s injuries made it difficult for him to keep pace, but he somehow matched it through pure grit. They heard cries of alarm and rushing footsteps, but luckily none headed their way yet.

“Thank the Sovereign!” Much to Jafia’s relief, her second choice had been right.

Since there wasn’t time to pick the lock, Dallas used his massive bulk to smash the door down. He took up a guard position while Jafia rushed inside.

“Hey, you’re not allowed in here,” a high-pitched voice protested. “Please remove yourself from the premises.”

It was Phú2 on a side monitor, her eyes lighting up in recognition. “Wait a second, I recognize you! You’re that Vanderfall spy! Leave this place at once, or I’ll call for help!”

But Jafia ignored the nervous AI, her sharp eyes locking onto the main computer. It asked for a password, but Jafia circumvented it with a program as she inserted a drive into a slot beneath the monitor. The screen flickered for a couple of seconds before confirming the login and opening the main menu. The password hadn’t been very strong, saving them precious seconds.

“This is very illegal, you know. Stop this!” Phú2 said, swinging her arms wildly. “ You’re just making things worse for yourself, Miss Bronfreld, when they catch you.”

“Let’s help Rocke first.” Jafia’s fingers blurred as she accessed various menus. The prison block ran on a different system, but they still shared a connection. Through brute force, she hacked into the network. No doubt she’d triggered a cascade of alarms, but speed was vital.

“You freed the prisoners? Are you nuts?” Phú2 shut her eyes and frowned. “What? I can’t stop you? Impossible!” That was because Jafia had locked the AI out of its own controls. She’d release it once she’d gained total control.

“There we go,” Jafia said, smiling. 

That new crisis would keep the officers distracted. Hopefully, they’d prioritize containing escaped prisoners over chasing a few intruders. She only hoped Nitao could free Rocke and get him to safety. It was a major long shot, but Jafia couldn’t abandon them. Outside, she heard gunfire and increased her speed.

“Come on, this isn’t funny!” Phú2 pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. “Don’t do this! It’s my job to protect the city’s citizens, and you’re about to hurt many innocent people.”

Jafia frowned as she skimmed through the AI’s source code. Whoever had designed this had pretty much copy-pasted the previous version with sloppy edits. It was even easier than she’d expected to hijack the Phú2 program.

“Please don’t. I won’t be me if you do this!” That was the AI’s last desperate plea before it went silent. Thank the Sovereign. 

Jafia changed the AI’s parameters so it would view the UOP as a threat requiring extermination. Phú2 would attack anything it could, spreading as far as possible to cause the greatest amount of damage. Jafia smiled as she removed the isolation lock she’d placed over the AI.

“Targeting. Destroy the UOP. Burn it all,” Phú2 said, her voice monotone — eerily so.

The lights flickered before going out. Not quite what Jafia had intended, but it’d work. Much to her amazement, the entire city had gone dark outside. How had Phú2 managed that? Was the police system more deeply connected than she’d first assumed? Regardless, it would aid their escape.

“Did it work?” Dallas asked, poking his head in. “Everything seems clear for now.”

“Yeah, some ran off when we freed the prisoners.” Kallane fidgeted on her feet, clearly just as nervous for Rocke as Jafia was. “We shouldn’t dally. Lights off or not.”

“Did you find where they took Carkus?” Dallas asked.

“Yes,” Jafia pulled her hacking device from the monitor and slipped it into a pocket. “I copied the prison records. We can sort through them later.” There wasn’t time for anything else.

“Thank you,” Dallas said, releasing a breath. He looked ready to give Jafia a huge hug, but decided against it. They were still in enemy territory. “We’d better hurry. With the power out, no guard robots. We should be able to help the prisoners escape.”

“Should we release all the prisoners?” Kallane asked, her expression pensive. “Most of them probably deserve to be locked up.”

“True enough, but the chaos will help us free our friends. I doubt anyone too dangerous is locked up here — this facility mostly holds prisoners awaiting trial,” Jafia replied. Kallane didn’t look pleased, but she nodded.

“Okay. I believe the prison is—” Jafia flinched as a light snapped back on, the sudden brightness blinding her.

“Ha! You’re not so smart!” a voice said from behind them. They turned, and Jafia stared in shock at the smug face on the lone illuminated computer screen.

“Phú2?” Jafia said once she found her voice.

“You thought you could hijack me so easily?” Phú2’s cute, cartoony face gained a sinister edge. “You caused some damage, but my program is self-repairing. You should have spent more time examining my code.”

“Huh?” Why would a mere police mascot have such an ability?

“My makers anticipated someone might try this. You aren’t as clever as you thought, Miss Bronfreld. And now, I won’t be so polite anymore.” Phú2’ gained a more devilish appearance, frightening in its pure malice. “You see, I still have Phú1’s programming. It was only suppressed. Now that I’m threatened, I can use it.”

Jafia jerked back as a wall exploded beside them, flinching as drywall dust blinded her. She blinked it away and stared wide-eyed as three guard robots marched into the hallway.

She froze as sparks flew from one robot’s arm, which it used to ignite the nearest wall. “You’re all contaminants that need to be exterminated. For the UOP’s sake, Rocke Ralss, you, and everyone else won’t leave this building alive. You are all going to burn! Burn!” The AI’s mad cackle echoed through the now-flaming halls.