Heir of Shandara (Book 4) (2 page)

Bayen frowned. “Sam?”

“I got tired of calling it computer.”

Bayen wondered how long his father had been alone here on this island. “Fifty-five percent is hardly conclusive. What about the Eldarin?”

His father’s eyes darted around as if Bayen had given word to a nameless fear.

Bayen repeated his question to Sam.

“The Eldarin represent an unknown quantity, and therefore their influence on the course of events is inconclusive.”

“Do you hear that? Inconclusive. Even the AI doesn’t know if this will work. Sam, what is the probability of creating a cure with all known variables in play?” Bayen asked.

“Zero.”

Bayen frowned. “That can’t be right. Before I went into cryo, we were close to a cure. Sam, expand upon probability of cure.”

“Data input required.”

“You see,” his father began, “all our efforts to create a cure have failed. The plague adapts too quickly for us to stop it.”

A panel opened beneath the console, and a dark metallic bracer rose upon a shelf. His father grabbed the bracer and handed it to him.

“Put this on,” his father said. “It’s a mobile version of Sam, and it will help keep you alive.”

Bayen hesitated for a moment before taking the bracer. He placed it on his wrist and felt it conform to the contours of his arm.

His father opened a tall storage locker next to the console and withdrew a long dark staff that ended in a short sword.

“I kept it for you.”

Bayen reached for the weapon. It was his favorite and by far the one he was most skilled at, but it irritated him that with Safanar crumbling all around them, his father had saved it for him. The ground rumbled beneath their feet, and steam hissed from fissures on the far side of the cavern. His father collapsed to his knees, writhing in pain. The structure around them groaned in protest.
 

“There’s no time. They’ve breached the upper levels. Take the supply pack over there.”

“Father,” Bayen said. “I can’t just leave you here.”

His father’s gaze drew down sadly. “I know you hate me for what I’ve done, and I don’t blame you. I would save you from this if I could, Son.”

The pylons ignited to life. Bands of electricity snapped across, and the focusing crystals flared.

A lump grew in Bayen’s throat despite his anger. “How will I even know if I’ve succeeded?”

“Death comes for us all, Son. It’s how we choose to meet it that counts. If you succeed, then this version of you will cease to exist at that precise moment.”

Success means death. Failure means death.
Bayen’s bitter thoughts sucked away his resolve. His thoughts turned to those that were gone. Taking strength in that his actions could lead to the salvation of the only home he had ever known, he grabbed the supply pack and headed toward the pylons. The elevator doors exploded. Snarling, shadowed forms with glowing yellow eyes emerged.

Bayen watched as his father pushed out with his hands. The shadowed forms slammed against an invisible
 
barrier. He stepped toward his father.

“Go!” his father shouted, sinking to his knees, the last of his strength giving way.

Bayen turned back to the portal. The crystals on the other side of the cavern shuddered and exploded. Flames ripped through the cavern, and Bayen leaped through the portal, leaving the doomed remnants of Safanar behind him.

C
HAPTER
2

ORIGIN POINTS

Bayen had been through portals before, but this was different. The skin on his face hurt from the extreme cold. He was surrounded by a swirling mass with bolts of electricity running through it. He felt as if an invisible hand was thrusting him forward, and the swirling mass blurred away from his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut against the pain. His breath came in gasps as the crushing pressure on his entire body intensified. He squeezed through the portal and landed in a field. The portal zipped closed above him, and the air was warm and still. He sat up, and traces of frost crinkled away to the ground, quickly melting in the warm sunlight. A slight vapor rose from his things into the much warmer air. The ringing in his ears slowly faded. He shook the stiffness from his hands and brought up his wrist. He ran his fingers over the touchpad to activate the device, but it remained off. After a few more times, the device whirled to life. A basic holo interface was brought up, and the AI seemed to be running some type of automated diagnostic. Nothing he could do but wait for it to finish.

Bayen opened the supply pack and changed out of the cryo-suit he had been wearing. The AI vibrated on his wrist, and he brought up the interface.

“Sam,” Bayen called.

“I am here, sir,” the AI answered.

“Where are we? Can you sweep the area and report in?” Bayen asked.

“According to the local satellites, we’re in the Waylands, one hundred miles north of Rexel.”

“What is the current date?” Bayen asked.
 

The date immediately appeared on the display. It worked! According to Sam, he was back to almost a year before he was born.

“Sir, temporal matrix achieved and steady at 100 percent.”

Bayen frowned. “Define temporal matrix.”

“Temporal matrix is the alignment between the known time line and the anomaly.”

Well, that didn’t explain very much,
Bayen thought. The AI wasn’t all that intuitive. Bayen stood up and grabbed his halberd. It felt good to have the bladed staff in his hands.

“Please define the anomaly,” Bayen asked.

“You, sir.”

Bayen pursed his lips in thought. What did that even mean?
I’m the anomaly?
Try as he might, he didn’t understand what the AI was trying to tell him.

“Sam, what happens to the anomaly if the temporal matrix moves out of alignment?”

“The anomaly will cease to exist, sir.”

The pieces clicked into place. He was the anomaly, and if he was able to change the time line, then he would die.
 

“Temporal matrix alignment changed,” the AI said.

“What? How? I haven’t even done anything yet,” Bayen said, wondering if the AI was broken.

“Updated calculations. Anomaly has approximately fourteen days until matrix moves out of alignment.”

Bayen felt a sinking feeling in his gut. “Define updated calculations in context of matrix alignment.”

“Time line connections with the anomaly—” the AI began.

“Sam, it’s me! I’m the anomaly. I want all future references to the anomaly to be as you would refer to myself.”

“Preferences updated, sir. Your connection to the time line is maintained by the energy source from your point of origin.”

“Point of origin,” Bayen repeated, coming to grips with what the AI was trying to tell him. “Are you saying that my connection is maintained by an energy source from the future we’re trying to change?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you’ve calculated that the maximum amount of time that I have to do what I came here to do is fourteen days?”

“Precisely, sir.”

Bayen clenched his teeth and cursed. “And after fourteen days?”

“You will be pulled back to the future, sir.”

He tightened his grip on the haft of the halberd. He had fourteen days… maybe. Twenty years stolen from him. Everything he had ever known was gone. The creatures that broke into the chamber were like nothing he had ever seen. They were a mix of human and beast, coming in all shapes and sizes. Bayen called up the log on the AI, preferring to read some of the history so he could figure out a way forward. The Ryakul plague had only affected humans and had been unleashed by the Zekara. The war with the Zekara had stretched on for years.
Keep General Halcylon alive. Fifty-five percent success probability rate.
The thoughts tumbled through Bayen’s mind. Was Halcylon really their best chance to prevent Safanar’s destruction? He didn’t like it. The Hythariam was a monster.

“Sam, can you give me the location of General Morag Halcylon at this time?”

“Unknown,” the AI replied.

“Best guess then.”

“Cannot estimate probability,” the AI said.

Bayen shook his head and then chided himself. What would he have done if he had found Halcylon anyway? He hadn’t come all this way to take up guard duty.
 

He needed to find another way to prevent the plague from starting to begin with. He rolled his eyes, trying to think.
 

“Sam, when is the first reported incidence of the plague?”

“Today, sir.”

Bayen swore; if he could stop it today, would that be enough to change the time line?

“Sam, can you give me the location of Safanarion Order leader, Aaron Jace?”

Bayen’s holo display above his wrist showed a flurry of activity as the AI disseminated all the bits of data flowing through the comms network.

“Sam, restrict search to encrypted security channels stemming from Hathenwood and Shandara,” Bayen said, playing a hunch.

After a few moments, coordinates appeared for Aaron Jace’s location, and he sent the information to his keystone accelerator. Perhaps he could stop Aaron from unleashing the plague and dooming all of Safanar in the first place. Bayen noted the matrix alignment estimate that the AI had placed in the top right corner of every screen. Fourteen days, and that was the machine’s best guess. If he had more time, great, but what if he had less? Bayen suppressed a shudder, steeled his gaze forward, and stepped through the portal.
 

C
HAPTER
3

FIRST MEETING

Aaron saw his breath rise up in the crisp air. He was up among the tallest branches of a tree, studying the Elitesman stronghold below. They had been clearing Elitesman strongholds for weeks, but this was one of the biggest they had encountered so far. The stronghold itself was composed of remnant walls of a long-abandoned castle. Trees and shrubbery grew around the walls, becoming part of them. There were easily a few hundred soldiers and Elitesmen within the stronghold, whose interior was comprised mainly of tents.

“Now comes the fun part,” Verona said, coming up to a branch near him.

Aaron nodded. “Hopefully, the other teams are almost in position.”

Gavril had advised them to work on coordinating their strikes as a team. The Free Nations Army, with their newest specialized recruits, needed to learn to work together. Their last encounter with a stronghold was almost a disaster. Former Elitesmen, while superb fighters, had issues with following orders and functioning as part of a larger fighting force. The younger ones were easier to retrain, as their experience within the Elitesmen Order wasn’t so ingrained in them. They still remembered what it was like before they became Elitesmen. The older Elitesmen who were not part of the Resistance gave him the most trouble, and were the riskiest to keep in the FNA. The Elitesman way was one of ruthless brutality to achieve their goals.
 

Dividing their number so that they were dispersed throughout the army was one way to reintegrate them back into the ever-changing world. At Sarah’s request, some were assigned to help with the sick and wounded soldiers, which did help reacquaint them with their own humanity. Unfortunately, this didn’t hold true for as many as they would have liked. Commanders down the chain voiced their protests at being assigned former Elitesmen among their own troops.