Rise of Aen (11 page)

Aen exhaled and lowered his arms, then walked forward to pick up the locking pin to make sure the wheel didn’t fall off and snapped it into place manually. Then he turned towards the crowd that had grown to a half dozen and smiled sheepishly; all of them had looks of shock on their faces. Aen bowed respectfully and went about his way, leaving them behind to chatter about the event they
witnessed.

He walked on for a bit quietly before a voice called out to him from
behind.

“My liege, please wait! I must talk to you for a moment!” It was Nyun who had been running to catch up with him, a little out of
breath.

“How can I help you, my friend?” Aen
asked.

“I have heard praise from others about your willingness to help, but I wonder why you have abandoned your studies so quickly? Your being here trumpets in the most dark of times for the human race and I hope you are taking it
seriously.”

“I’m not a machine, Nyun. I can take only so much learning before I need a
break!”

That statement seemed to shake the monk. “You mean there are machines beneath us showing the path to the light to you? What happened to all the Lyarrans? What has happened to Ameia?” He seemed utterly floored by this
news.

“The Lyarrans that are here have been placed in a storage system designed to preserve their bodies until they can be shipped home for proper ceremony. Their light has been extinguished, as is the fate of my mother. Their mechanical assistants have been left to guide me to my destiny. They are superb instructors, but they have no inkling on how much you can cram into a brain in one
sitting.”

“Ah, so you do not shrink from the destiny laid before you, you have just taken a breather to better focus your
mind.”

“Something like
that.”

“I saw your display of might with the wagon from a distance, but I must ask you to refrain from public showings like that; you never know who’s watching,” the monk exclaimed, pointing to the sky. “Remember they are still looking for you, and will stop at nothing to get you back. Our informant has let us know that they have loosed their pack of wolves, drawn from your blood, to hunt you like the fox of old. Displays like the one you just had will heighten their chances of finding you, and that can’t
happen.”

“So you expect to hide me in your basement and pretend I don’t exist?” Aen asked with
annoyance.

“What would you have us
do?”

“Turn the tables; make the hounds the hunted. This fox has teeth and isn’t afraid to use
them!”

Rocky Mountains, Utah –
Military Installation Code Named White Rock

Reviewing the results of their “warm-up” missions, General Patterson was duly impressed. These hybrid soldiers were efficient and adaptable to the ever-changing situations they’d been thrown in. Too bad he only had nine of them. The last one had died from injuries sustained in the explosion six months ago that had rocked the project to its very core. Patterson had stayed on, even after General Taylor had been medically cleared for duty. The mandate had changed since Taylor had been down; this was a search and recover mission now, not a research and development
lab.

He had Taylor take Major Phillips’s position as liaison between the lab and himself; more to keep him out of the way than anything. The man had screwed up, plain and simple, and Patterson wasn’t about to just give him back the chance to do it
again!

Still holed up in the boardroom, he’d had six months to turn it into a modest war room. There were filing cabinets, a dedicated phone line, paper shredders, and even his own coffee machine. He’d even had the sign changed from “Board Room” to “Gen. M. Patterson.” Now, he sat in his oversized chair that had recently arrived from acquisitions, rolling an unlit cigar in his mouth contemplating his next move when a knock at the door brought him out of his
thoughts.

“I see you’ve read the reports.” The voice said. It was Taylor. probably sniffing around, trying to atone for his
actions.

“Quite a read, I must say.” Patterson replied. “These new assets are proving quite effective. Let’s just hope they’re up for the next
mission.”

“The hybrids are the perfect tool for any job, sir. What would make them not want the next
mission?”

“Because I’m sending them to find their maker and drag his ass back here!” Patterson exclaimed with a raised voice as his fist struck the table in frustration. “And that will be the most challenging mission that our country has ever ordered a soldier to undertake. Go out and find a creature that we can’t track, don’t have a description of, and one that can FUCKING DISAPPEAR when he chooses
to!”

“I admit we made a mistake declaring him dead and leaving him unattended, but we had what we were after. We have nine perfect soldiers and a supply of his blood large enough to make thousands
more!”

“But you let the real prize waltz off into the night, with the crown jewel of prisoners! Under your watch, we lost not one alien, but two!” Patterson’s face was growing red. “With the proper precautions, we would have the ultimate weapon at our disposal and have no need for these zombies you created. The whole concept of this project was to create something to help defend us in a war that may or may not happen, and you succeeded. Then you milked him for DNA like a cow and let him die, before casting him aside like used toilet
paper!”

Taylor was stunned by this onslaught of anger, but stood firmly at attention while it continued. Anything less and he might end up in the
brig.

“Then, by some ill-conceived brain fart, you didn’t place him in an iso tank so he could be observed while he FINISHED his transformation into something nearly godlike! You had no idea of the potential threat that you let loose on the world. What if this thing gets in contact with the others out there?” Patterson ranted, pointing up to the sky. “What if he’s on their side now? Do you see how bad this is,
Taylor?”

“Yes sir! I do now, sir!” Taylor barked
back.

“Don’t suck up to me, son; I’m too old for that bullshit! Just help me think of a way to find this thing and get him back on our side before the brass hangs us up by our balls on the
flagpole!”

Taylor relaxed a little, realizing he was being thrown an olive branch. He stepped forward and took a seat to the right of his long time mentor. “The team might have a ‘nose’ for finding him; they were made from his blood. It might mean there would be a connection of some
sort.”

“Maybe, what
else?”

“Well, once they find him I think they’ll face little resistance. We’ve got highly trained and conditioned soldiers while he is still just a civilian with no training in combat or martial
arts.”

“Good theory, but what if they’re training him as we speak? What if he becomes the weapon we needed, but for the other
side?”

“Then I believe we’re fucked, sir!” Taylor said flatly. “With what little we know of him, if he can utilize some of his potential, we’re totally
fucked!”

Himalayan Mountains, Mount Kailash, Tibet

Aen had paced for an hour at the top of the stairs in the temple. In his mind he wrestled with the fact that he was no longer the man he was, now something closer to a soldier, dragged into a war he didn’t believe in. Part of him was still in shock over the fact that he had been thrust into the middle of all this, the other part was like a child with a new
toy.

Realizing he was getting nowhere fast, Aen turned to meditation, something taught to him in his time here. He slowly walked to the alter in front of the massive statue, sat in a lotus style position, and closed his eyes while taking a deep breath. He let his emotion fade away and tried to focus on the here and now. Sounds in the temple simply faded away and he was alone with his thoughts at
last.

For the first time since this whole ordeal started, Aen began to let go of his old life and the constant yearn for it. When he was able to do this, his mind was able to connect with something deep in his core that was unreachable until now. The past was left to slip away, revealing the possible paths for him to walk towards his future. One the first path lay the plan set out by his teachers and protectors of the monastery, which was to hide until the enemy came. The second path was to go back to those who created him and submit to their will to become a weapon. Then there was the third path, the one that he saw as his true destiny. This would lead him to confront those who wronged him and fight against their twisted ideals. His actions would be the exact opposite of what they would expect as they had begun to chase after him as if he was running away, not towards. He would gather assets needed to accomplish goals, find a way to contact the Empire and bring them here to prevent a catastrophe, and in doing all this he would learn to control the gifts bestowed upon him by his genetic legacy. He exhaled in a calm manner, troubled that he had been too wrapped up in the past to see where he needed to go next. He would meet resistance from both those there to help him and those who were out to capture him, and he would probably alienate many who would have stood beside him. But it was his life to live, his destiny to fulfill, and those around him could offer only guidance and not do it for
him!

Deep in his thoughts, Aen could feel the warmth of the sun grow stronger on his face as well as a slight breeze caressing his skin. In his chest he could feel his heart pulsating; pushing out powerful waves of energy. His ears picked up the murmurs of monks, but the sound seemed off as the voices came from a distance. Slowly, Aen opened his eyes and was immediately shocked at what he saw. He was eye to eye with the giant statue of the Lyarran Empress, floating almost two stories above the ground! Around him was a shimmering blue light which encased his entire form. His mind, still in a heightened state of awareness, quickly understood that this was a manifestation of his telekinetic abilities simply turned inwards in an effort to levitate
himself.

To everyone watching, Aen simply glided down to the ground, extending his legs before hitting the ground. But inside, Aen exerted great concentration and will to accomplish this feat and it left him quite winded. Once settled on the ground, he made off towards the stairwell and into the Lyarran war room with a purpose; he had answers to get and plans to
make.

Rocky Mountains, Utah –
Military Installation Code Named White Rock

Major Avery Wilson watched impatiently as the V-22 began its descent to the one place he never wanted to lay eyes on again. Two years ago, he had sold his soul for a shitload of money to do a job that still cost him sleep every night. It was the same haunting mission which had put his marriage in therapy; the one that had him walk away from active duty and take a desk job in the intelligence sector. In fact, this was the mission that split the entire team—most had been reassigned and one, Marlin, had gone into the private security
sector.

Much had changed since the last time he had been here. For one thing, the masonry crews weren’t there the last time and neither was the two-story hole in the wall. Also, Wilson had noticed the strange wreckage strewn about near the location of what was once a small building in the valley below. He knew something had gone wrong when General Patterson had called him personally and asked him to come by, saying he needed the best there was for search and rescue. Avery hesitated on the phone, the last mission still haunting him, and didn’t answer at first. The general—perhaps sensing the Major’s trepidation—reassured him that this was a legit search and rescue, not a snatch and-grab op. After much more reassurance, and a long talk with his wife, Wilson called back and agreed to come and
listen.

The ramp lowered as the V-TOL touched down, and medical staff and supplies were unloaded before Wilson began to disembark. The whole trip he had observed silently the large amount of staff and supplies being shipped with him to the facility in the Rocky Mountains. General Patterson was waiting on the roof as he stepped off the aircraft with his hand extended in a friendly offering of a
handshake.

“Damn good of you to come back, son,” the General hollered over the sound of the twin rotors. “I know the last time you were here screwed you up a bit! As you can tell, we’ve had a bit of an accident here!” He motioned with his head to the construction
below.

“Thanks sir, I noticed you had a large amount of staff being brought in. But I don’t understand what you need me
for?”

“Cause you’re the best there is at finding lost people, and I need the absolute best!” He led Wilson to the doorway. “Let’s go inside and I’ll explain
further.”

The two soldiers walked briskly inside to the receiving hall, which Wilson noticed had broken drywall and blood stains on the walls, before entering the elevator. Silence filled the air as neither man talked until the general broke the quiet when the elevator doors
closed.

“The shit really hit the fan here, Major—I fear that we really screwed up on this one,” the older man
exclaimed.

“Sir?”

“That man you retrieved for Taylor; the one that was busted up and shit; well, we selected him because of selective genetic markers he had. These markers gave him the compatibility we needed to merge DNA with another to create a super-soldier.” The elevator opened and the general gestured for him to follow as they walked in step to the war room. Once inside, Wilson spoke
up.

“You made a human/alien hybrid, didn’t
you?”

“Very observant; I forgot you were a part of Taylor’s team that recovered Subject Zero. Were you there when we cracked the ship open and found
her?”