Gail r delaney phoenix.., p.1
Gail R. Delaney - Phoenix Rebellion 04, page 1
End Game
Gail R. Delaney
The Phoenix Rebellion Book IV
Triskelion Publishing
www.triskelionpublishing.net
Triskelion Publishing 15327 W. Becker Lane Surprise, AZ 85379
Copyright © 2006 Gail R. Delaney
ISBN 1-60186-000-5
Publisher’s Note. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, and places and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to a person or persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is purely coincidental.
Dedication
To– All the poor souls who had to listen to me ramble on for hours about Nick and Caitlin, Jace and Lilly, Victor and Beverly and Michael and Jacqueline as if they were real people. And especially those who understood. I’m not crazy, I’m an author.
To– Craig, who has always believed in me. You’re always the first to say “I’m so proud of you.”
For Everything There is a Season
For everything there is a season,
and a time for every matter under Heaven.
A time to be born; and a time to die.
A time to plant; and a time to pluck up what is planted.
A time to kill; and a time to heal.
A time to break down; and a time to build up.
A time to weep; and a time to laugh.
A time to mourn; and a time to dance.
A time to throw away stones; and a time to gather stones together.
A time to embrace; and a time to refrain from embracing.
A time to seek; and a time to lose.
A time to keep; and a time to throw away.
A time to tear; and a time to sew.
A time to keep silent; and a time to speak.
A time to love; and a time to hate.
A time for war; and a time for peace.
~From the Book of Ecclesiastes
Chapter 3, Verses 1-8
“Out of ashes, humanity will rise again”
Prologue
Earth Time: Tuesday, November 5, 2052
Capital City of Callabria
Planet Aretu
Far side of the Galaxy
Nick stood near the pristine white wall of the hanger bay, his arms crossed over his chest and his feet set apart, studying the Aretu scout ship that hovered effortlessly fifteen feet above the deck.
The ship was magnificent. Sleek and smooth, its mirror surface helped it blend into its surroundings, even here in the bay. No sound emanated from its cool-fusion engines, and only the slightest sway of its massive body indicated it wasn’t firmly anchored to the floor. The size of a football field, it would carry Nick and two dozen other Aretu and Umani soldiers for the three-month journey back to Earth. He had been assured that the Armada ships traveled much faster, so even though they left Aretu weeks after the scout ships, they would reach Earth not long after Nick.
The trip would be faster, but he didn’t have the patience it took to sit around waiting for everything to be ready. He needed to move. Needed to feel like he was closer to home. There would be no cryogenic sleep this time. Nick wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, or not. On one hand, he could sleep through most of the trip like he did when he was a kid and his parents drove cross country on vacation.
It didn’t matter — sleep or no sleep — slow or fast — he was going home.
“The scout ship doesn’t depart for another three hours, Nicholas. Are you in such a hurry to leave Aretu?”
Nick twisted at the waist and looked back to Queen Bryony the Fourteenth where she stood several feet away. He had seen her several times since leaving Raxo for Aretu, where the ships were prepared for the journey. She never wore the garish and jeweled gowns like the one she had worn that first time he saw her except when she attended an official event. Otherwise, she wore simple gowns of cream or yellow that hid more than accentuated her feminine form. Today it was a pale yellow that deepened the gold of her hair and turned her skin to alabaster. She was a stunningly beautiful woman, and in many ways reminded him of Caitlin with her height and the color of her hair. But as beautiful as she was, she didn’t squeeze the air from his lungs with a gentle fist the way Caitlin did.
“Not so much leaving Aretu as going home, Your Highness.”
She moved forward to stand beside him, turning her attention to the scout ship. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m hoping I can convince the captain to let me behind the wheel during one of the jumps. I’d love to know how this baby handles a wormhole.”
“No manual navigation is required during flight,” she said softly, her voice distant as she studied the craft. He had learned early on that Queen Bryony had a great appreciation for flying machines. “The ship will do it all.”
“Too bad.”
She turned to look up at him. “You mentioned that you had to manually negotiate the wormholes while seeking us. We have not done so in many generations, but I imagine it requires great skill.”
Nick shrugged. “Comes natural, I guess.”
“That is the gift of your Areth blood.”
He snapped his attention to her. “What do you mean?” Nick still had a hard time absorbing the reality that the human race wasn’t a product of its own evolution, but a new race created from the combined ancestors of Areth, Umani and ancient Human.
“The ability to reach past the confines of your mind.”
“You mean like psychic? I’m not psychic.”
“Perhaps not to that extreme, but I knew the moment I met you that you held some touch of the gift. Don’t you feel it?”
Nick shrugged. “I felt something. There’s this woman I know — Beverly — and she’s empathic. I always feel like the hair on the back of my neck stands on end when she’s around.”
“You see?” she said, as if that explained it all.
He didn’t answer, looking back to the ship. Areth and Umani moved beneath it, scanning and checking the systems before their departure. His skin itched to leave. He packed his meager bag the day before, and now waited for take off. It couldn’t come soon enough.
“Beverly…”
“Hmmm?” he hummed, turning when she spoke.
“Is Beverly the one you are so anxious to return to?”
Nick grinned, running his thumb across his lower lip. “Am I that obvious?” “Perhaps only to one interested.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head in answer to her question. “Her name is Caitlin.
“She’s my…” Nick struggled to find the right way to explain. Hell, language barrier or not he wasn’t sure what label he could slap on Caitlin that would be right. That would fit. He pulled from his chest pocket the photograph that never left him. In the months of flight, and weeks after arriving on Raxo, the edges had curled and a crease angled across one corner. Nick held it out to her and she took it with a gentle reverence, cradling the photo in her palm. He cleared his throat, squinting as he looked from Queen Bryony to the photo. “When I get back, I’m going to marry her.”
“She’s beautiful.”
Nick wondered where along the way he had turned into a sack of love-sick mush, but smiled at the pleasant warmth that spread through him when Queen Bryony complimented the woman he loved. “Yeah.”
“Is this your child?”
It sounded off to hear Michael referred to as a child. In the photo, he stood as tall as Nick, the same grin on their faces. He was far from a kid, yet, Nick almost felt like a new father. “Michael.”
She raised her head and looked into his face. “Michael is not a child you share with Caitlin.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of the obvious.
Nick shook his head, rubbing his lips together before answering. “No.”
She stared at him expectantly for a few moments, but Nick offered no further explanation. The truth was bad enough without rehashing it. It didn’t matter now. Michael was with him… or would be as soon as he got home. And Caitlin would be his wife. Eventually, Queen Bryony looked away and handed the photo back to him.
“We will return you to them as quickly as possible, Nicholas.”
“Soon isn’t nearly soon enough, Your Highness.”
Chapter One
Friday, February 14, 2053 19:37
Along the Charles River
Ruins of Boston, Massachusetts
Former United States of America
Jackie’s lungs burned almost as painfully as her legs, but she kept running. Behind her, echoing through the charred and crumbled remains of what had once been the Back Bay, were the steady footfalls of her pursuers. The cold air bit at her exposed skin, but there hadn’t been time to grab anything to keep her warm against the winter wind.
She was lucky to be free.
And if the Sorracchi bastards behind her had anything to say about it, she wouldn’t be for much longer.
Her boots slipped on the slick, wet pavement and she fell to her knees, biting back the grunt of pain that lodged in her throat. Hearing the running steps at the other end of the street, Jackie rolled and squeezed her body against a cold steel doorway to pause and catch her breath. With any luck they’d keep going.
The door gave way behind her and she stumbled into the pitch black cavern of the building’s interior. The air was only slightly less cold here, lacking the wet heaviness and bitter wind outside. The hinges creaked as the door swung closed again and she winced, knowing even that sli
Wasting no time, Jackie ran into the darkness as quickly as she dared with her hands extended in front of her to keep her from running head on into a wall. That’s all she needed, a broken nose on top of everything else.
Her hands hit brick and she moved along the wall, fumbling for a door or exit to let her move on before she was discovered.
The sizzling sound of a pulse charge rifle echoed through the air, accompanied by the crack of the steel door behind her flying across the open space to crash against a far wall. “Damn it,” she mumbled, moving faster.
Her hand slipped from the damp brick to a wooden door and she quickly found the knob, closing her eyes briefly in silent hope that it wasn’t locked. The knob gave and she slipped through into the stairwell beyond. Dim moonlight bathed the narrow tower through the gaping hole two stories up that had once been the roof. She was thankful for the light and grabbed the icy railing to ascend the steps.
But the time she hit the second landing, she was sure her stomach was going to turn inside out and her legs were going to liquefy out from beneath her. She had run at least ten or twelve blocks before reaching the riverfront, the guards not far behind the whole time. After two days of ‘interrogation’ — a fact that just plain pissed her off because she had let herself get caught in the first place — her body screamed for her to stop. She hadn’t eaten in days, hadn’t had water in hours. Right now, licking the sooty black moisture off the walls seemed just as viable an option as anything else.
She hit the second landing and hunched forward, her hands braced on her knees, gasping for air. Muscles twitched with painful spasms and she sucked air through a throat lined with sandpaper and cotton.
The door below crashed open and she groaned, her movement forward more a controlled fall than an actual step. “You have got to be kidding me,” she cursed, yanking open the door in front of her.
A cold gust of wind slapped her in the face as she stepped onto the open surface that had once been an enclosed building. Half the walls were gone, blown away months before in the initial attacks. The burnt remains of three desks sat along one wall, a frozen and decaying corpse hunched over one.
Jackie ignored the macabre scene, having learned months before that it did no good to dwell. She had mourned for men and women she never knew every time she stumbled on their remains, but eventually there were just too many to mourn.
She was alive, and she intended to keep it that way.
“Go up! Go up!”
The echoed voices of her pursuers followed her and Jackie pushed forward through the deep snow that covered the surface. She was stuck, trapped, unless she found a place to hide. One look at the path she harrowed through the foot deep snow would lead them right to her.
“No way in hell you’re going down this way, Anderson,” she ordered herself, ignoring the wet and cold as it quickly saturated her pants. Her toes were numb and the aching chill had already hit her bones. She reached the far side of the surface and looked over the edge, hoping for the reprieve of a fire escape.
And found none.
She slapped her hand on the iced surface, tingling needles of pain shooting up her arm. “Damn!”
She felt the crackle in the air and the hot surge of a pulse blast slice through her arm before she heard the discharge boom. Jackie spun around, pressing her hand against the bleeding wound ripped in her upper arm.
“Stay where you are!” the Sorracchi bastard shouted as he ran towards her, pulse rifle leveled on her.
“I don’t think so.”
Death would be better than being a prisoner of the Sorracchi. She had seen what they did to Jace Quinn, the way they had sucked away his humanity and his soul until all that remained was a broken shell. She couldn’t do that. Couldn’t let it happen.
Bracing her hand on the broken wall, Jackie set her boots in the snow and stood on the edge, looking down to the dock and the water two stories below. Her choices sucked: either the ungiving ground or the icy water.
Another blast whizzed by her and she flailed her arms to keep her balance. “Don’t move!”
Jackie twisted to look back at the single Sorracchi, his buddies somewhere else in the building. Raising her hand to her temple, she saluted.
“See you in hell.”
With one final demand of her aching body, Jackie pushed off. The rush of air filled her ears and she swallowed the scream that threatened to rip its way from her throat. At the last second, she knew where she would hit, and sucked in one final deep breath before the icy waters of the Charles River enveloped her and dragged her down.
*****
Sunday, February 16, 2053 02:49
Phoenix Tennessee Complex
Colorado Base relocation site
Smokey Mountains, Tennessee
Former United States of America
CJ rolled onto her back, blinking her eyes in the semi-darkness of her bedroom, trying to determine what noise had woken her. Moonlight streamed in through her open curtains, glistening off the fallen snow outside with a soft gray haze, and she wondered if it wasn’t just the wind whistling around the loose windows of the cottage.
She closed her eyes and snuggled into the multiple layers of blankets again, hoping to drift back to sleep. Moments later, her eyes snapped open and she knew what had woken her. Throwing back the blankets, she slipped on the long flannel shirt she kept at the end of the bed and padded into the hall in her stocking feet. The mountain cottages had thin walls and rattling windows, built decades before as a summer resort. They weren’t built for inhabitance during the coldest months of the Tennessee Mountain winters, and a definite chill hung in the air. Not freezing, but far from toasty. The wood stove downstairs needed re-stoking.
A soft glow spilled into the hallway from the bedroom at the end of the hall, and CJ walked to it, her hands tucked beneath her arms. She peaked through the open door, her breath catching in her throat.
Michael paced the center of the room, wearing only a pair of pants so she knew the chill in the air had to nip at his skin, with a bundle of blankets curled against his shoulder. His cheek rested against the small form, his eyes closed as he gently bounced her and sang softly beneath his breath. CJ couldn’t hear the words, but knew Michael’s repertoire was short, and assumed it was probably either Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star or a hymn he had learned from Jace or Lilly Quinn.
Soft mewling sounds came from the blankets, and every once in awhile CJ caught sight of a small fist escaping the warm confines so tiny fingers could curl against Michael’s shoulder.
“Is she fussy?” CJ asked in a whisper.
Michael turned enough to look at CJ over Nicole’s bundled head. “She doesn’t want to sleep.”
CJ smiled and leaned her shoulder against the jamb. “Do you want me to walk with her awhile so you can get some rest?”
“I’m fine.”
She drew a slow breath, her heart aching at Michael’s driving need to prove himself with Nicole. A part of her understood, but she wished she could help him believe he could have help and still be everything he wanted and needed to be to her. In time, she knew he would. Everything came in time.
CJ walked into the room and stood behind him, laying her hands on his back so he stopped moving for a moment. Nicole cooed and sighed, raising her head enough that two large blue eyes looked at CJ over the edge of Michael’s shoulder. CJ smiled, unable to deny the warm glow that spread through her whenever she looked into the infant’s angelic face.
“Have you tried laying her down with you?” she offered.
“That was my next option.”
“Come on. I’ll help you get her settled, and then I’ll go put some more wood in the stove. Maybe get some chill out of the air.”
“I can do that.”
CJ turned from walking out of the room, and looked at Michael with a wry grin. “Will you stop? You can’t do it all. You take care of Nicole, I’ll take care of the stove.”
She followed Michael into his bedroom, and held the baby as he lay down in the bed, settling himself on his side with his arm stretched along the mattress. When he was comfortable, CJ leaned forward and nestled Nicole into the warm shelter her father’s body created for her. Michael pulled the blanket up to cover them both, careful not to cover Nicole too much.
