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

meant, you said, ‘I am the first day and the last day.’ What is it you think you know, James?”

“Everything. Just as Johannes did, after he was found lost along the fjord now named for him.”

“What? Johannes wasn’t lost, he was …”

“Exactly what he wanted history to believe. Celia, how do you think he became a man of such stature? How do you think he was able to change the world?”

She wanted James to go away. She had everything she needed from this monster. If only he’d …

“Johannes rose above humanity,” James said, “because he was the same as me, but he was the first. Thanks to the Jewels, he began three thousand years of Chancellors, and I will start the next three thousand, when Chancellors will be forgotten. The Jewels always knew I would come.”

“No.” Celia raised her hackles. “The Chancellors will hunt you down and end this madness. And thanks to everything you’ve provided me, we will …”

“Do what, Celia? Reclaim your dominance? Earth will never know what I’ve given you today.”

Her chest tightened. “What do you …?”

“I wanted you to take the truth to your grave.”

His expression never changed throughout their conversation, so Celia didn’t know how to take this latest threat. What could he possibly do now?

He dropped a cap over his end of the bicomm and said with quick, discourteous style:

“I enjoyed doing business with you, Celia Marsche. Time’s up.”

He vanished.

Celia embraced the sudden silence with a strange sense of triumph that came all too easily. Something did not add up. Something …

The egg flashed in rapid-fire orange. A low rush grew into what sounded like a strong westward wind howling across the fjord.

Celia finally understood.

She ran.

The end came in a flash. She felt no pain, only a nanosecond of realization that no part of her would be left behind.

From the fjord, the three hovering ships witnessed a white detonation consume the upper levels of the estate.

The Marsche family home, four centuries old, imploded and collapsed into the deep forest below.

70

Lioness

 

T HE SILENCE OVERWHELMED ALL ELSE. From the command bridge, where activity was subdued and robotic. To the immortals’ training arena, where military maneuvers were placed on hold. To the landing bay, where the duty crew waited for new orders.

Twenty hours since losing Ursula Amondala. Eighteen hours since James and Rayna flew into a mad rage upon seeing their fellow hybrid’s body. Seventeen hours since James and Rayna disappeared into their private quarters with their sons. Twelve hours since word arrived from Tamarind confirming two Soldiers of Salvation were incinerated in a firestorm. Eleven hours since Valentin addressed the fleet, instituting a mandatory period of rest and mourning. And now, a standstill.

The quiet drove Valentin mad. Every hour, on the hour, he requested to see his brother. Not even the courtesy of a response.

During this wait, Valentin realized how few friends he had. Yes, the soldiers adored him still, but he could not confide in them. The hybrids had each other – as friends, lovers, spouses. Though he worked with the Officers of Salvation on the bridge every day, he’d never made an effort to strike up relationships for fear of compromising the chain of command. It was the Guard in him, and he regretted the missed opportunity.

He sat alone on the forward captain’s dais. He didn’t want to know what the nine hundred men and women of Salvation were thinking. Did the rogues and Chancellors fear stepping out of line in light of the executions, or did they sense a crack in leadership? Might they overcome their conditioning to plot treason and escape?

Valentin was relieved when Major Rafael Kane joined him at the dais. Valentin raised an audio baffle.

“What do you have, Major?”

“Final assessment of the attack on Tamarind.”

“Anything we don’t already know?”

“Valuable new data from Scramjet Beta. Crew observations, Guard deployment, chain of command for the Carrier Newhouse.”

“Tell me something I’ll find interesting.”

Kane threw open a holowindow. Schematics showed all planet-bound Guard deployments when Spearhead landed through to the time of the attacks.

“As you see, Admiral, they created the illusion of complacency. No Guard vessel within a thousand kilometers of Mandewatt. Even the Newhouse seemed unconcerned. She was maintaining her traditional orbit. She did not slow to achieve geosynchronous state.”

“Strange,” Valentin said. “On the rare occasion Ark Carriers engage in surface combat, they’re required to achieve geo state. Otherwise, the slew targeting systems lose their precision. Yet …”

“They hit the center of a pinprick from thirty thousand kilometers.”

This news unnerved Valentin. “Any ground deployment following the attack?”

“None. Our ships entered fleet-bound Slope an hour later.”

“You mentioned the Newhouse command?”

Kane fingered the window and brought up an image of the oldest Guard officer Valentin ever saw. He studied the accompanying bio.

“Admiral Aldo Cabrise. Hmm. Never heard of him. He’s ancient.”

“Forty-eight years of service.”

“What would possess a man to stay in uniform so long?”

“Redemption?” Kane swiped up to find Cabrise’s early military record. “Cabrise was Carrier Admiral during the Fall of Hiebimini thirty-seven years ago. He was blamed for strategic failures at the time and demoted, but he spent years accusing the Admiralty of the Guard of gross negligence. He said their decisions were directly responsible for the end of Hiebimini and the brontinium supply. He was sent, as you might say, into the desert for many years.

“Spent decades working his way back up the chain. Six months ago, he was appointed Carrier Admiral for the Tamarind fleet.”

Now Valentin was intrigued. “That makes no sense. He’s thirty years older than a typical admiral. Those positions are political ranks, usually gained by leverage or descendancy. I doubt he’d have either.”

“I’ll continue to investigate, sir.”

He slapped Maj. Kane on the back. “Thank