The Impossible Future: Complete set by Frank Kennedy (mini ebook reader .txt) 📕

they raced past the fallen Chancellors, only two of whom appeared alive. Rayna remembered Mentor’s warning about Chancellors being able to kill her on a whim. This new reality cut deep.

“If we push hard, we can make it,” Misha shouted from her horse. “They will stop to capture or kill the survivors first. If we are lucky, they may think we are ordinary fools who crossed the fold by mistake. Ride hard, Rayna.”

Rayna never knew Misha to deal in fantasies or retreats.

“And she called me insane,” Rayna said. “We have no hope to outrun that beast.”

“We might. Rayna, there are few horses on this Earth. All wild. Chancellors do not ride horses, not for two hundred years.”

Rayna’s disgust returned. “I was right. Chancellors are idiots.”

But not wrong, as she discovered.

When Rayna glanced back, the Scram slowed as it approached the survivors and hovered low about the fragmenting surface. Beyond it, the sun slipped beneath the horizon, casting brilliant hues of yellow, orange, and purple. Rayna’s training taught her distance was important, but nightfall critical to survival.

They charged with all due speed, their horses used to these demands but in constant danger of galloping into trenches along the cracked surface. They reached the halfway mark toward the hills when Rayna took another look behind and lost sight of the ship—until she looked up. The vessel produced running lights and a series of brilliant searchlights. She heard the engine fire and then…

The sun disappeared and rose at once. Or so Rayna thought.

Brilliant flashes fell from the sky, enormous ovoid waves of fire that appeared en route to decimate them both. But their course corrected, and they pummeled everything near the interdimensional fold. Flames took the form of gelatinous waves, bouncing up and down like explosive magma thrown from a volcano.

The pursuing ship took a direct hit and crashed.

They pulled back on the reins and watched the apocalypse.

“It must be Scorch protocol,” Misha said. “I served in the Unification Guard. I heard the rumors, but I never witnessed it.”

“Fire from space,” Rayna whispered to Mentor. “They have all this power but need me to save them?”

Mentor sat behind her saddle. “I doubt they’d say it quite that way, dearest. After all, some of them hunger for your utter annihilation.”

“I will not give them satisfaction.”

“Of that, I have little doubt. In the meantime, I suggest we proceed with caution to those hills. We have but a few minutes of good light.”

The final remnants of dusk clung to the low western sky when they reach the foothills, amazed both horses survived the treacherous terrain without breaking a leg. As they ascended, they stared back at the golden hue rising near the IDF.

“Do they think us dead?” Rayna asked.

“No,” Misha said with confidence. “Penelope used the stream to relay our status to her allies. They will come.”

“And the others? They will come, too. No?”

On this point, Misha hesitated. “Possible. Yes. Rayna, I spoke with Penelope at great length before you arrived. She believed there may be two other factions seeking the Jewels.”

“And both are enemy?”

“Unclear. Your Mentor must have told you about the United Green.”

“He did. What kind of bastards wish their people to die without chance to grow stronger?”

“Is not so simple, Rayna. Chancellors want to survive, but some do not believe in genetic re-engineering.”

Rayna laughed. “All Chancellors engineered. Mentor showed me how. No, Misha. They fear Jewel energy. They fear replacement.”

“Hmm. And after what you did today, can you see why?”

Rayna acknowledged the point and shut her mouth. She felt the Mentor trying to add in a word, but she shut him down. Her rebirth complete, Rayna wondered if he still served any useful purpose.

They rode another two hours, deep into the foothills. They came upon a stream and gave the horses a rest. Rayna drank from the stream and allowed her nerves to calm for the first time in days. The night sky was clear, the Milky Way stunning.

Yet Rayna was confused.

“The stars,” she said in Russian. “I recognize constellations, but they are not aligned. The scorpion should not be high this time of year.”

Misha laid back upon the firm ground and studied the night sky.

“I thought the Mentor would have told you,” he replied in Engleshe. “The universes do not replicate. There are vast similarities, even parallels, but causality prevents replication.”

“Is warmer here. Are seasons parallel?”

“No. We left Ukraine in April. If my math is correct, this would be July. Although the Collectorate calendar does not acknowledge the twelve-month cycle. We are affixed to a schedule of two hundred standard days for economic consistency across the forty worlds. I assumed Mentor would have taught you these fundamentals.”

She shrugged. “Maybe he did, and maybe I did not listen. Sometimes, I think him wise; other times, he is babbling fool.”

“You will need these essentials, Rayna. This is your world now. The life we led on the other side is no more. You understand this?”

She threw a rock into the stream. “I understand I hate Engleshe.”

“You will get used to it. Over time, even your accent will fade.”

“Did this happen to you when you learned Russian?”

Misha sighed. “The first six months were the hardest of my life. It wasn’t just about mastering the language. It was more the dialect. We were actors. Many Cossacks never trusted us.”

    “Then why you do this stupid thing?”

“When the ten of you were created, we expected trouble. The Green was gaining power, but we believed in your potential to be the Chancellory’s future. We hedged our bets. Our leaders separated each of you, only one per fold. It gave you the best chance for survival. We understood the dangers of 19th-century Ukraine, but we sacrificed our lives for a greater purpose.”

“Would Father say this,