Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1) (21 page)

     Back in the main hall the party soon finished, and all went to retire for the night. Max thanked Donus and Krynos for the most incredible celebration ever, before making his way back to his quarters. As he neared his room, he noticed something was incredibly wrong. Running to Jennie’s quarters, he kicked her door open, only to find her room to be empty, which he knew to be true before even entering, as he couldn’t detect her scent anywhere.
     Panicking, but wanting to make sure he was correct, he started 3D slipping around the castle, sniffing the air for any indication of her proximity. When absolutely sure she was nowhere to be found, he ran to the main hall and sounded the alarm by rotating the handle of a claxon horn.
     Immediately, dozens of men filled the hall, with Krynos and Draagh showing up in their sleeping gowns, the old mage already having a look of extreme concern on his face.
     Max stood in the middle of everyone and nervously shouted, “Jennie’s been taken.”
 

     Rear Admiral Luigi Bagatelle stood before a large, black wall, approximately eight meters high, with six men and two women seated at desks up above, and all wearing dark-blue robes. The room was designed for inquiries, and Bagatelle was there to answer some questions, as well as ask a few of his own.
     Councilman Len Johnson leered down at the admiral, a sneer lining his lips, with his pale complexion making his face the most visible of the eight permanent members of the Security Council.
     “So, Rear Admiral, you willingly admit that you failed to apprehend the traitor, Commander Maximilianus Gunnarsson, and not only that, you failed to find his ship? How do we not know that Gunnarsson, at this moment, is not developing SSCC technology for Earth humans?”
     “Respected Council,” started Bagatelle, “first of all, there are virtually no more Earth humans. As you have all seen the vids I provided, Earth was wiped out by an alien race called the Vrol, and—”
     Bagatelle was immediately interrupted by the ghoulishly white councilman.
     “Yes, yes, we all saw your falsified vids. Quite poor quality, if you ask me. Answer my question, Rear Admiral. How are we to be assured that Gunnarsson will not return with a fleet of invading earthlings?”
     Bagatelle knew this procedure. It was a form of entrapment, and was a typical ploy of politicians during hearings in Earth’s past. Deny evidence, and then demand an explanation, not having to take the supplied evidence into account. Then, if an alternate, yet reasonable explanation is provided, deny, change the subject, and again attack. Johnson was a student of history, and was many steps ahead; he had been planning this for quite some time.
     Bagatelle continued, “Honored Council, we found it necessary to divert resources to finding Lt. Ryder Johnson, who murdered—”
     “Preposterous! Absolutely without merit!” Councilman Johnson screamed, his pale face nearly turning red with fabricated rage. “You would use missing my son as a scapegoat to cover for your incompetency? How dare you! He has been faithfully serving Azul forces for years, and yet, in an attempt to get out of accepting responsibility for your total failure as the commanding officer on the most important mission this planet’s military has ever undertaken, you drag his, and MY name in the mud? Rear Admiral, I will see you up on charges before you leave these chambers!”
     Bagatelle sighed, knowing his only chance would be to get the rest of the Council to believe that the vids from Earth were real.

     “Honored Council, please hear me out completely, as this is critical to the survival of our worlds. The approaching aliens who call themselves Artusians are actually the Vrol, the same species that decimated Earth and killed nearly everything with a virulent, genetically-engineered amoeba—”
     “STOP!” roared Johnson. “This is beyond the pale, and this so-called amoeba of which you speak was engineered right here, in your scientific research facilities.”
     Bagatelle looked up at the leering Johnson and said, “That is completely untrue! How can you even say that?”
      “Bring him in!” demanded Johnson, and as Bagatelle turned around he saw a meek-looking man in a science division tech uniform brought in, surrounded by numerous security personnel. Wearing shackles, he stood, his head hung low and not looking up. Johnson peered over the edge of the tall and imposing structure upon which they sat, and spoke to the tech while maintaining a hateful glare.
     “Tell us, Tech Olson. Tell the council how you created that fake amoeba, and how you manufactured the videos of the supposed invasion of earth.”
      “It is all true, as the honorable councilman said,” stated Olson. Bagatelle looked at the man, shocked, as Johnson interjected.
      “Tell the council who gave you the orders to manufacture this traitorous garbage!”
      “Rear Admiral Luigi Bagatelle, honorable councilman.”
     Bagatelle stood frozen in place, mouth agape, unable to speak. He had never seen this man before in his life, and all of the evidence he had brought back from Earth was being twisted and used against him by Johnson, who was much more sinister and dangerous than he had ever before believed.
     Johnson looked over at his fellow council members, who had remained, for the most part, silent during the hearing. Then, speaking to them, he said, “My friends - not only has Rear Admiral Bagatelle lied and falsified evidence to support his claims, my son - my own dear boy has been listed as missing in action thanks to this disgrace to a uniform. So, I’ll tell you what I believe - I think that Admiral Bagatelle was working with Gunnarsson, and had invented this whole preposterous scheme in order to create a military armada on Earth, with the intention of returning here and making Azul into a military dictatorship, with Bagatelle himself installed as emperor! So I propose - with the evidence pointing against Rear Admiral Bagatelle - I propose that we immediately assume control over Azul Military Scientific Research and remove the SSCC technology from The Revolution. I have already identified a group of experts who can quickly do this. Further, I demand that Rear Admiral Bagatelle be stripped of rank and immediately placed in detention before he can do further damage or contact any traitorous underlings.”

Johnson leaned back and looked out into the black chamber halls, gloating and waiting for the final act to play out. The other council members met in murmured whispers, conferring with each other. Finally, one member, a female, stood and addressed the chambers.
      “Rear Admiral Bagatelle – while the evidence submitted against you is overwhelming, we have procedure, and no matter the crisis, we must stick to procedure, for that is the law, and the law is final.” Then, looking at Johnson, she continued, “Councilman Johnson, we appreciate your efforts looking into this apparent failure of a mission, but the council cannot act alone and simply take command of this planet’s entire military. It is for these reasons that Rear Admiral Luigi Bagatelle shall be taken into custody and placed under house arrest, with a technology lock over his quarters, precluding him from communicating with anyone aside from his representative council, until such a time as we are able to investigate further into this tragedy. However, he shall retain his rank, and The Revolution shall remain equipped as is. Further, the council shall not take over military operations. There are three branches to our government, and we are only on of the three. This separation of powers is specifically provided for in the Constitution, to which we must always be faithful, lest we fall to tyranny. This is the will of the court.”
     Johnson bolted upright in his seat and screamed, “What! WHAT? You dare allow the evil fruits of this ingrate’s labor to continue on, putting every man, woman and child on this planet in jeopardy? You are blind! Don’t you see? Sometimes we must take control – this time we must take control, as Bagatelle has gone too far! My son is most probably dead, killed by the hand of this pathetic excuse for a man, all in order to further his agenda of taking over an entire planet! Fools! All of you!”
     Johnson stormed out of the chambers as the other members of the council stood up. Bagatelle looked concernedly over at Tech Olson, but surprisingly displaying no malice.
      “Son, why? You know that everything you said is untrue.”
     Olson kept looking down, avoiding eye contact with his superior officer and said, “I’m sorry Sir. I’m truly sorry.” He was then led away in his shackles, while security agents bound Bagatelle with the same type of chains.

     Darkness slowly turned to a dull light, as nothingness gradually became existence. Jennie Escalante groggily opened her eyes, seeing with difficulty, as her hair was hanging in her face, matted with clotted blood and obscuring her vision. She had obviously been beaten in the head and could feel the pain in her ribcage, and saw her bruised legs, due to her already revealing tango dress having been shredded. As she became aware of her surroundings she felt panic, but at the same time gained her reason and tried to remain calm.
     Trying to move, she found she was chained to a wall. The putrid-smelling dungeon cell gave off a feeling of dark sickness, worse than the most disgusting dysentery one could imagine. The rotting scent of vampire was everywhere, and sharpening her hearing, she heard the wails and moans of prisoners - all normals - who had been taken to the castle to be perversely used as living food sources.
     Trying to clear the blood-encrusted hair out of her eyes, she heard footsteps approaching. She scrambled back, only to be stopped by the wall behind her as she pulled at her iron arm cuffs. Realizing that it would take more than a few minutes to get free of her bonds, if she could at all, she sat back and waited for her visitor, whom she could smell quite clearly – Ryder Johnson.
     “Oh my, my, my, how are we, Jennie?” sneered Johnson, his face having become even more disgusting looking since she had last seen him. “I must say, that was quite a nice dress. I never took you for one who was into indigenous performances, but then again, all degos are trash.”
     “Go screw yourself, Johnson,” she said, “and take a look in the mirror when you do. It’ll be sure to shrivel your di—”
     “SHUT UP!” he screamed, interrupting her. “I am in control here, and you are simply my bitch. I may not be able to drink you, but I can make you suffer. Oh, by the way, it was nice seeing those again,” he said, pointing at her partially exposed chest. “It seems like God did something right. They have a nice feel to them.”
     “You sick puke,” she growled, but became momentarily alarmed, as she concentrated on her enhanced lycan physiology. To her relief she could not detect that she had been violated – yet.
     “What do you want with me? Can’t win a battle on your own, so you have to go and kidnap a drunken girl from a party? And speaking of that, who took me? The last thing I remember was talking to… oh damn,” she trailed off, remembering talking to Alea.
     “Hmmm, hey bitch, figured it out yet?” snorted Johnson, turning to the side and motioning to someone. “Come, my dear. Show Jennie who helped to bring her home.”
     Alea walked out from the shadows, wearing a face of slight remorse. She couldn’t look Jennie in the eyes, but still said, “They have my husband, Morgus. He still lives, and they said if I—”
     “HAHAHAHA!!!!” Johnson interrupted with maniacal laughter, “you actually believed that bunch of bullshit?”
     Alea almost fell back, and would have if there were not two lower-caste soldiers behind to apprehend her.
     “No! Siegfried said that my husband would be released if I helped bring the girl! This cannot be true!”
     Ryder Johnson stood in front of the cell and appraised Jennie’s injuries, and then, turning to the soldiers said, “Lock her up. Right here, in this cell, so they can be girlfriends. Maybe they’ll get it on and we can watch,” as he pointed at the cell adjacent to Jennie’s.
     Alea started howling as they forcefully pushed her into the cell, not even bothering to chain her to the ground. Johnson turned to leave, but paused briefly, saying, “You know, Lord Vladros simply wanted to execute you and send your head back as a gift, but I convinced him to hold off a bit. The fun has yet to start. We never did finish what we started on the ship…” Backing off, Johnson disappeared back into the darkness and out of view, but not smell.
     Locked in her cell, with little hope at the present, Jennie just sat where she was. She stared at a facing wall for a few minutes, only hearing the moans of the normal prisoners. Then, without even turning to Alea she said, “You bitch…”  (*15*)
    

The entire chamber in Krynos’ castle was in a state of absolute chaos, with everyone yelling over each other as more and more soldiers filtered into the room. Krynos attempted to call everyone to attention, but to no avail. Suddenly, and without warning, a large cracking sound thundered throughout the hall, Draagh having slammed his staff to the ground. Everyone immediately fell silent, and Draagh merely motioned for Krynos to address the attending lycans.
     “It appears that we have been betrayed, and that Jennie Escalante has been abducted.” Looking at Draagh, Krynos asked, “My friend, is there anything that you can do to help determine her location?”
     Draagh looked out at the ever-growing crowd of lycan soldiers, and then at Max, saying, “Oh, I already know where she is, my son. Vladros has her in his dungeon.”
     Max looked at his grandfather, horrified. “Vladros? The vampire leader? How do you know?”
     Draagh solemnly nodded, and then continued,
“Max, my boy. Those clothes you wear, did I not conjure them for this evening’s festivities?”

     Max nodded his head, still maintaining a look of extreme concern on his face.
     “As I made them, they have a very particular connection to me. In fact, I detected her change of location not long after she was taken, though there was little I could do at the time. In fact, I was going to change my clothing and address this situation, but you had responded so quickly I simply came here with everyone else.”
     Max looked at his ancient grandfather and desperately asked, “Then, what can we do?”
     “Why, we go and rescue her, of course!”
     Draagh explained to Max, and the unnaturally quiet lycans, that Vadros’ castle had an ancient protective cantus, which prevented anyone from simply entering via magic.
     “We will have to enter just like we would into any other building in lesser situations,” said the ancient mage.
     Max’s eyes shifted right and left, as he tried to figure out what Draagh meant, when Donus quickly boomed, “We shall dig a tunnel! Lycans specialize in tunnels!”

     “A… tunnel?” stammered Max, who was starting to look even more confused. “We dig? How long will this take?”
     Donus replied, “Not long at all. We start to make preparations immediately,” to which Draagh added, “Max, my dear boy, please do not worry. Though I am unable to breach the castle’s defenses with a 3D slip, once inside we can quickly locate Jennie and pop out – the protection is not a two-way defense.”
     “But what if they kill her? Oh my God, what are they going to do?” Max cried out.
     Draagh rested a hand on the young man’s quivering shoulder and said, “Calm yourself, my son. She yet lives. I am able to see her, and although she has been roughed up a bit, I can do some things to help keep her from being further damaged. There is something you should all know. We have suffered at the hands of a traitor. Two, in fact.”
     “Who might they be?” demanded Krynos, while everyone started to look at each other with suspicious glares.
     “Oh, they are not here. Not anymore. Your resident minor-mage, Siegfried, and the skills trainer Alea are both in Vladros’ castle, but it appears that things did not turn out so well for the woman, as she now resides in a cell next to Jennie.”
     “She told me there was a traitor in the castle!” exclaimed Max, who continued, “I should have listened to her! But wait, SHE was the traitor? Oh damn.”
     Draagh waved his hand out and said, “Oh, my boy, that was just a ploy of hers to get into your bed, as at that time she was unaware of any such nefarious activities. However, I never much cared for the skulking, sneaky Siegfried, and I had mentioned it to Lord Krynos on various occasions in the past.”
     “Well, he was inexpensive,” said Krynos, wearing a regretful look on his face. He then immediately called out with great authority, “Prepare thyselves, great warriors of the Rhönen! We go to rescue our sister!”
     With that order everyone cleared the room as fast as lightning, except Max, who stood there, helplessly looking at his grandfather. 
     
     “Draagh, we will rescue her, won’t we?” he inquired.
     “Yes, my son. She shall be retrieved safely. Now go prepare yourself for battle.”
     Max spun around to leave the room and was gone instantly, and after roughly 20 minutes of preparation, a Rhönen Special Forces recon team had been assembled of the warriors most skilled at fighting in enclosed spaces. This meant that many of the largest warriors were not to go, as Vladros’ castle ceilings were lower than that of a lycan castle - vampires being shorter in stature than their mortal enemies.
Max stood at the forefront with Donus, who, although rather large, was to lead the effort. Wearing a lighter version of his battle armor, protection that would allow him to sneak about while making much less noise, Max had his katana strapped to his back, along with some other, smaller blades lining the sides of his boots. Draagh approached Max and held out his hand, presenting the young man with Jennie’s katana.
     “Here, my boy. She will want this. I managed to make some minor improvements to it while it was in my possession.”
     Max took the weapon and examined it closely, not initially seeing anything different. Then, a look of understanding grew on his previously preoccupied face as he spun around, pointing it at an old table in an empty part of the room.
     “
Undaincantatio ad mortem!”
he screamed out, as everyone in attendance gasped in awe.
     He had reduced the table to nothingness, not even ashes, after focusing a thermonuclear cantus through the tip of Jennie’s blade. Draagh had basically rebuilt the katana as a magical object for Jennie, and Max was really, really pissed off and planned on using it – on Vladros. (*16*)
     The recon team rode out of the castle on horses after Draagh had slipped up ahead, making sure that no one was spying on their activities. It was assumed that Vladros would not expect such a quick reaction, if even one at all, as he was not aware of the love and respect the girl had garnered in her short time in the Rhönen. His only information on her came from Ryder Johnson, who simply wanted to rape and hurt her for having been the cause of his being stuck in the strange world - and also because he was the personification of evil cowardice.
     After some hours, the lycans stopped in a wooded area to replenish water and let their steeds rest out of the rays of the sun.
     “We shall go another hour, and then leave the horses in the transition area, as we must continue on foot,” commanded Donus, whose horse was an offshoot of a Clydesdale, yet much more massive than those of the past.
     After reaching the transition point, they tied of their horses and proceeded on foot, coming to the boundary of Vladros’ castle land. As there was still daylight, the lycans would have an advantage in approaching the castle. Although there were vampires that could tolerate some sunlight, their vision was severely limited by the strong and deadly UV rays.
     Max stood by with Draagh and watched, as a single lycans soldier named Kornus morphed to his battle form and started to dig quite rapidly with his enhanced claws. Dirt flew out as some other soldiers moved the loose earth back and out of the way. Another lycan jumped down into the newly made tunnel entrance and started widening it, following Kornus. It was a matter of mere minutes before the two had disappeared into the earth.
     Crouched down and ready to go, the team was finally given the ok to enter into the tunnel, which surprisingly, was high and wide enough to simply walk through. Max had no idea that lycans were such incredible tunnelers, but was glad to know of the skill, and planned to practice once they had safely retrieved Jennie from the clutches of the putrid half-dead.
     Jennie sat in her cell, glaring at Alea, as she had been doing for the past few hours. Not knowing what would happen next, she threw a small rock through the bars at the woman who sat just three meters away.
     “Hey, idiot. Happy now that you’re getting us both killed?” she asked, with a definite tone of hostility.
     Alea looked over and had tear stains all over her face, being unable to cope with the fact that she had basically ruined not only her own life, but also that of an innocent.
     Before Jennie could say anything else, a voice softly called to her in her head.
     “
Jennie, hold fast, my dear girl. Do not make a sound. Just think to me and do not speak. We are here for you and shall arrive soon
,” said the voice.
     “
Draagh? Is that you? How can you do this?”
she asked in her mind.
     “
It is the clothing you wear. I conjured it for the party, and as an added benefit it allows me to maintain a connection to the wearer. I am only so very glad that no vampire decided to disrobe you
.”
     “
Yeah, so am I
,” she thought back, “
they weren’t built for wearing a tango dress, that’s for sure
.”
     Jennie thought she detected telepathic laughter, but was unsure. She then thought back out, “
What do I need to do? I don’t even have a weapon
.”
     “
Max has your katana. I improved it, and you will no longer need to strap your wand to it in order to direct cantuses. It is now quite, how shall I put it - cool - if I do say so myself
.”
     Jennie snickered mentally, and then simply continued ignoring Alea. The woman had betrayed her once, and Jennie wasn’t even going to give her any indication that rescuers were on their way. In fact, she hoped that Alea would attempt to fight the lycans upon their arrival, just so she would have an excuse to kill her. She used her enhanced hearing to listen intently for the sound of invading forces, but only heard vampires milling about, and the light sound of some stones being moved, initially believing it to be slave laborers performing tasks for their disintegrating masters.
     Suddenly, and without warning, she heard screaming and growling, as well as the sound of flesh being torn. Trying to pinpoint Max’s or Draagh’s scent, she looked over to see Alea wearing the most terrified expression she had ever seen on a person’s face. It appeared that the lycan woman actually feared her own kind more than the vampires who had so easily betrayed her, and it brought Jennie a quieting satisfaction.
     After stealthily entering into the basement area of the castle, the recon team had set out for the dungeon area, two levels below, but were all detected by hellcats who immediately attacked and made the lycans’ position known. Elsewhere in the castle, Vladros called on his own personal protection forces to surround him, with Johnson trying to get in the middle, only to be shoved out by the vampire king.
     “You, coward, do not belong here. My son was to take his place by my side, and is dead due to your incompetence. Die like a lower-caste foot-soldier, alien slime.”
     Johnson gave him a look of pure hatred, and dashed off to find a hiding place of his own. He wasn’t about to go into battle with a bunch of psychotic lycans – he would pick and choose his battles as they suited him. Finding a chamber filled with corpses, he dove into the rotting pile of bodies in an attempt to hide his scent and avoid detection.
     Max and Draagh stuck together, while Donus and the others used their new katanas to easily slice the attacking vampires and hellcats to ribbons.
     “Oh-HO! I do so love this fine blade!” Donus cried out, “I shall name it… I shall name it
kalte tod
- cold death, in the language of my forefathers.”
     With that, he completely and merrily bifurcated a hellcat that had been running inverted on the low ceiling, causing its two separated halves to fall to opposing sides of the walkway. Max, who had regrouped with the lycan commander, looked at the newly halved creature on the ground, which was amazingly still moving, and then gave Donus an inquisitive look, raising a brow.
     “No, my good man, they are not for consumption. They are – how would dear Jennie put it? Oh yes, they
taste like ass
.”
     Max grinned at Donus’ comment, figuring that was exactly how she would say it, and opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Draagh, who urgently called out to them both.
     “Come, she is this way.” The mage then bolted down a left corridor, surprisingly fast for someone who had been alive for eons.
     Arriving in the dungeon area, Max, Draagh and Donus ran to her cell, only to hear the girl cheerfully say, “Hey fellas. What took ya so long?”
     Max looked at her with a combination of anger and grief, as it was obvious she had suffered some abuse at the hands of whoever had abducted her. Her once-beautiful white dress was torn to shreds, and she still had clotted blood matting her face and hair. Before Max could even reach to open the cell door, Draagh simply waved his hand, causing the door to open - Jennie’s opened, but Alea’s did not.
     “Max, take Jennie and get out of here. A simple 3D slip to the entrance of Krynos’ gate should suffice. I have other things in which to attend.”
     “Oh no you don’t!” howled Jennie, standing and moving out of the cell, her shackles falling to the ground with loud clunking sounds, having been magically released by the ancient mage. “I’m gonna find Johnson and make his head into a trophy. Gunnarsson, give me my sword.”
     “How did you know I have it?” started Max, as Jennie shot back, “Oh, a little birdie told me - and Draagh, can you do something about these rags?”
     The old mage waved his hand, causing them to reform in an impressive, white leather battle outfit, albeit with some of the blood stains she had earlier acquired.
     “Pops, do you have a bead on Johnson’s location?” asked Max, as the mage looked around, with the battle still going on in the upper levels of the castle.
     “No, my boy, and if you cannot detect his scent that means he has either fled, done quite a splendid job of hiding himself, or has been killed and eaten. We should hope for the latter, but I digress. I should like very much to find Siegfried, as he is the one who betrayed us all.”
     Then looking at Alea he said plainly, “My dear, you have created quite a mess, and I am afraid that it is not myself to whom you must answer.”
     Alea simply continued looking down. She was so panicked over being told that her husband, Morgus, was alive that she didn’t stop to think it could have been a trap or a lie. She chose evil, and one who chooses evil never wins in the end.
     “Leave her there,” commanded Draagh, “I shall retrieve her upon my return.”