A Question of Will
A Question of Will
The Aliomenti Saga — Book 1
by Alex Albrinck
Copyright (c) 2012 by Alex Albrinck. All rights reserved.
Cover by Karri Klawiter:
http://artbykarri.com
Stock art by Melissa Offutt:
http://melyssah6-stock.deviantart.com/
Other Books by Alex Albrinck
The Aliomenti Saga
Book 1:
A Question of Will
Book 2:
Preserving Hope
Book 3:
Ascent of the Aliomenti
Book 4: Coming in 2013!
For new release notification, plus access to the free prequel and short stories, sign up at:
Prologue
Will Stark ran toward his home as fast as he could, despondent at the likelihood that his wife and son would already be dead when he got there. And it would all be his fault. He ran, not for enjoyment or accomplishment, but in a desperate attempt, no matter how futile, to prevent his wife and son from being brutally murdered.
He had turned thirty-five years old today, an age at which running just over a mile should be simple. He’d focused on his business and his family, though, and his fitness levels had suffered as a result. The lack of exercise and the resulting bit of flab around his midsection weren’t the only physical symptoms that might make one think him older. Wire-rimmed glasses that enhanced his green eyes perched dangerously on the bridge of his nose, the sweat of exertion and terror threatening to jar them from his face and leave him blind in his pursuit of his target. Noticeable patches of gray mixed in with his normally pitch-black hair. The stressful events of this day were unlikely to keep his hair from growing whiter.
The sharp pains wracking his body weren’t entirely due to physical neglect. He’d needed to break into his own highly-secure gated community, climbing over a building and dropping to the ground. He’d twisted his ankle upon hitting the ground, but he’d pressed on. There would be time to deal with that type of pain later. He had to get to his house. The lives of Hope and Josh hung in the balance.
You’re already too late
, a voice whispered in his head.
The killer had too much of a head start
. Visions of their lifeless faces floated before his eyes, causing him to slow momentarily.
No
, he thought.
I will not quit on them. Ever
. He pushed on, ignoring the stitch growing in his side, and the screaming ankle that wanted rest and ice, not the pounding of an all-out sprint. He tried to distract himself by finding humor in the fact that he was running at full speed in suit, tie, and overcoat; his shoes were highly polished gems meant for business, not racing. It wasn’t ideal.
None of this was ideal.
Desperate times made people do crazy things, to be sure. There had been numerous attempts to abduct him off busy public streets in broad daylight. His car had been shot at on many occasions. People in the press seemed to forget that he was human, and that he had no more interest in losing his freedom or his life than anyone else. The press enjoyed highlighting his “extravagant expenditures” like the cars with armor-plating and bulletproof glass, the fortress-style walls surrounding his community, the security system in his neighborhood that seemed more extensive than many military bases. They opined that such vast sums of money could have been better spent on other things, implying that the desire of the young multi-billionaire to protect his family from harm was driven by pure selfishness.
He wondered what such people would write about the next day, if his fears became realized.
He knew what
he’d
write. That he’d failed. He had vowed to keep his family safe, no matter the expense. He’d consulted every security expert he could find, hired the best construction crew, paid for double- and triple-redundancies in every person and system charged with the security of those he loved most. It hadn’t been enough. A killer had gotten inside his sanctuary and was traveling an unguarded driveway to his house. Will’s wife and son were at risk due to his failure.
He ran faster than he’d ever run before, his feet in misery from the brick-like shoes covering them, as he slammed them repeatedly to the ground. His ankle finally gave out, and he was forced to cover ground in a limping hop that tried desperately to resemble a sprint.
You should have let them meet you at the restaurant. They would not be home to be attacked
. The inner voice gnawed away at his determination, seeking to replace it with guilt and self-loathing, and it was succeeding. He refocused, and refused to listen. There could be only one way to mitigate those feelings, and that required getting to his house. Quickly.
He rounded the final bend, his home visible in the fading sunlight. It was a large structure, to be sure, though probably smaller than most might suspect from one so wealthy. The brick and stone exterior of the home continued his theme of security, giving the sense of a castle inside the giant walls surrounding it. He looked inside, through the expansive bay window and into the living room. On most days, he’d see his son Josh standing there, waiting for him, silent as always. On others, he’d see Hope, a chair pulled up by the window while she waited for him, reading.
Today, he saw something that made his stomach spasm.
A man stood in his house, his back to Will. He was dressed in black, his head clean-shaven, the skin marked by dozens of long scars. Will experienced a powerful sensation of hopelessness and dread, as if the mere presence of this man was sufficient to eliminate the will to live of anyone who came near him. On closer examination, he noticed something even more terrifying: the short sword held in the man’s right hand, the steel glinting from the lights in the house, and the blood dripping from the blade.
At the sight of the blood, Will passed through the denial stage of grief and went straight to anger. His pain was forgotten as a surge of adrenaline erased his pains, and his whole body cooperated in moving him towards the house. He would kill that man, the man who had ended the lives of his wife and son.
A bright light burst from the window, blinding him, slowing him down as he twisted away. He blinked his eyes rapidly, forcing them to refocus.
He heard and felt the explosion a few seconds later. The glass exploded from the front windows and lacerated his skin, the damage lessened by the thick overcoat he wore against the late winter chill, and the force of the blast knocked him to the ground, hurling him back several yards and knocking his glasses from his face. He felt the heat before he could turn around, felt his skin burning. He realized that his coat had caught fire, and he pulled it off, hissing in pain as shards of glass were pulled from his skin in the process, and he let the coat fall to the ground. His hands felt the frozen earth, seeking his glasses, needing to restore his sight. He found them, put them on, and turned, still on his knees.
He could not see his house, even
with
his glasses on. The walls of flame leaped out of the windows and doorways, somehow hot enough to ignite even the brick and stone of the exterior.
He lowered his head to the ground, weeping. Then he screamed out the names of his dead wife and child in a tone of pure, agonizing mourning.
The Four Oaths of the Aliomenti
As a member of the Aliomenti, and in recognition of the special knowledge, technology, and power inherent in my position, I do hereby swear to abide by and uphold the following Oaths:
OATH NUMBER ONE
: I vow to never knowingly share with any non-Aliomenti human the unique knowledge, technology, and power of the Aliomenti, directly or indirectly, nor shall I permit any non-Aliomenti human to acquire any of the same of his own accord. I understand and agree that the penalty for violation of Oath Number One is ten years imprisonment, stripped of all rights, privileges, and power for the duration.
OATH NUMBER TWO
: I vow to never knowingly share with any non-Aliomenti human the existence of the Aliomenti, either directly or indirectly, nor shall I permit any non-Aliomenti human to acquire knowledge of the same of his own accord. I understand and agree that the penalty for violation of Oath Number Two is twenty years imprisonment, stripped of all rights, privileges, and power for the duration.
OATH NUMBER THREE
: I vow to never enter into a committed relationship of any type, most notably marriage, with any non-Aliomenti human, and likewise vow to avoid such relationships within the Aliomenti community, lest termination of such relationship lead to distrust and disunity among our kind. I understand and agree that the penalty for violation of Oath Number Three is fifty years imprisonment, stripped of all rights, privileges, and power for the duration.
OATH NUMBER FOUR
: Concerning the nature of the relationship and the potential for abnormally advanced abilities, I vow never to be the biological parent to any child, regardless of the Aliomenti status of the second parent, regardless of the nature of the conception of the child. I understand and agree that the penalty for violation of Oath Number Four is death.
I hereby state my understanding that any humans involved in the breaking of the Four Oaths shall suffer death at the hand of an Aliomenti assassin.
I affirm my Oaths and vows, and do so of sound mind and body, without compulsion, of my own free will, as evidenced by my signature below in the presence of my Leader.
I
Infiltration
Two hours earlier.
“I’ll never get tired of this view, Mark.” Deron McLean spoke to his colleague through the radio connecting the two guard stations for the exclusive De Gray Estates community. “When you’ve got a few billion dollars, you can build things like this.”
Mark Arnold laughed. “No kidding. Wonder how
those
conversations went?”
“Well, probably something like: ‘Hi, I’m Will Stark. I’m buying your city, and with it I am getting a tax and regulation-free zone, and then I am going to build a giant dome over it that glows at night, and it will have so many job opportunities in it during this awful economy that I can afford to pay people to move here to work, and businesses to move here and set up shop. Oh, yeah. Then I’m going to build an old-fashioned castle wall and moat around 2,500 acres outside that dome, and hire two dudes named Deron and Mark to keep the nasty stuff away from me.’”
Mark laughed again, with feeling. “Hey, if I had his money, I’d do the same thing. Well, I’d never think of doing
that
, but then again, I’m not Will Stark.”
“Nobody is, my friend. Nobody is. Half the time, I’m not even sure that
he
is Will Stark.”
“Seems too good to be true, doesn’t he?”
“Indeed he does.”
The banter stopped, and the two men resumed the standard routine of their guard duties.
Three men appeared on the sidewalk outside the De Gray Estates. Had anyone been watching, they would have sworn that the three men had materialized out of the twilight descending on the town.
They marched with purpose outside the massive walls which surrounded the neighborhood, footsteps partially muffled by the sounds of the water flowing in the moat. Small puffs of smoke emerged from their mouths, the condensation forming in the crisp winter air. The only light came from the two buildings framing the massive concrete gate used to control access into the community. The walls could not be scaled; the gate could not be breached. The wealthy residents of the exclusive community slept secure and comfortable at night, knowing that no one got in without their permission.
