Worlds Away

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Authors: Valmore Daniels

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Worlds Away

The
Interstellar Age Book 3

by
Valmore Daniels

This is
purely a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the
product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance
to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. This book may not be
re-sold or given away without permission in writing from the author. No part of
this book may be reproduced, copied, or distributed in any form or by any
electronic or mechanical means past, present or future.

Copyright © 2013 Valmore Daniels. All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-927560-01-3

Edited by: Derek Prior

Images: © innovari - Fotolia.com

20130221

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Available:

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Visit
ValmoreDaniels.com

1

CHRYSALIS

Quiriguá
:

Guatemala
:

Long Count: 9.19.19.17.9 :

It had been
seven days since
I began my warrior’s trial, and I feared I would not succeed in my quest. I
would either be captured by the Q’eqchi’, the northern tribe, or I would spend
the remaining days of my life shamed by my failure. I would not be Subo Ak, the
warrior; I would be Subo Ak, the unworthy.

The only way I could return to my people, the Ch’orti’, with
any dignity was to bring back a trophy.

For the past two days, I had been scouting the forests south
of Quiriguá, waiting to catch one of their warriors out alone. I would kill him
and take something of his to prove my victory. My hope was to find a warrior who
had many kills of his own. He would have tattoos showing his conquests; his
skin would be a suitable prize, and might gain me enough status to obtain a
wife. I had seen Ysalane smiling at me whenever I passed near…

The Q’eqchi’ warriors, however, only went out on patrol in
numbers, and they never strayed from their party. They were very disciplined;
it was no wonder their tribe had grown so large over the past generation.

They had invaded our lands many times in the past, killed
our men or captured them for sacrifice, stolen our women, and burned our crops.
My brother, Atal Ak, died from a spear wound during one such raid a year ago.
Since then, I have been dreaming of joining the warrior caste and avenging my
brother.

We have many story stones that tell of a time when the Q’eqchi’
paid tribute to the kings of Copán, when we had been their overlords. That had ended
many generations ago when the king of Quiriguá captured our last great king,
Uaxaclajuun Ub’aah K’awiil, and took his head. The Q’eqchi’ have harassed us
for more than a hundred years since then.

Now, Copán is but a shadow of its former glory, and we
struggle for our very survival. My village, east of Copán city, has seen our
numbers dwindle more every year. We have suffered from poor harvests, sparse
hunting, and raids from the Q’eqchi’.

One day, the Ch’orti’ will become powerful again, and all
tribes in the world will make the pilgrimage to Copán to offer their tribute.

It was my desire.

Before I could help restore power to my people, I had to
achieve honor for myself. At this point, I would have attempted an attack on
two, or even three of their warriors. I was desperate.

I decided to head east where the forest thickened. Perhaps I
needed a better spot to wait for my prey. As I stood to go, I heard the snap of
a branch behind me.

Spear in my hand, I turned, ready for combat. Had a warrior
crept up behind me? Had I turned from the hunter into the hunted?

A laugh escaped my lips when I saw a dark-feathered turkey a
distance away. It was walking through the brush, its head bobbing and jerking
while it foraged.

My stomach rumbled. I had not hunted game since I arrived at
Quiriguá, and I was down to the last bit of meat in my pack. If I were weakened
from hunger, I would never last in a match against a single Q’eqchi’ warrior,
let alone two or three.

The turkey did not see me. It was my lucky day.

Silently, I lowered my spear to the ground, picked up my
atlatl, and placed a long dart in the shaft.

Stepping carefully to avoid any fallen branches that would
alert the turkey to my presence, I got as close as I could to the bird. Taking
aim, I flung the dart at my prey, and cursed as the tip hit the dirt in front
of the turkey.

It immediately took flight. In the confines of the forest,
however, it didn’t have enough room to get any height. Several times, it was
forced to land after swerving to avoid the trunk of a tree.

I gave chase, picking up my spear and my pack as I ran after
the bird. If I got close enough, I could try to throw another dart at it.

We were nearing the edge of the wooded area. I knew that
once the turkey reached the plain, it could fly faster than I could run. When I
saw it hit a tree with a wing, and lose balance, I knew it was my best and last
opportunity.

Dropping everything except my atlatl, I quickly loaded
another dart and let it fly.

This time my aim was true, and the dart hit the turkey
through the upper part of its wing. It would not be able to fly from me now.
Though it tried to run, the dart in its wing unbalanced it, and slowed it down.

Drawing my knife from my belt, I ran to the bird and jumped
on it. My first strike missed its throat, slicing instead into the meat of its
breast. My second cut found its mark, and I held the bird down as it died.

The turkey made a terrible noise in its death throes,
however. Several Q’eqchi’ warriors, who had been following a path through the
woods, heard the sounds and ran to investigate.

I saw them and felt a moment of panic. If I stayed to fight
them, they would overwhelm me. They would either kill me or drag me back to Quiriguá
for sacrifice.

If I ran, I would only prove that I was a coward, and unfit
to be a warrior of the Ch’orti’.

A plan came to me, and I only had a moment in which to act.

Leaving the dead turkey where it was, and the dart still
sticking through its wing, I picked up my spear, hurried a distance away, and
crouched behind a thick copse of bush.

The warriors would know the turkey had been killed by a
hunter; they would most likely be able to identify the dart as one of Ch’orti’
design. Their first thought would be that their enemy had decided to flee.

With any luck, they would split up in their search for me. I
would then follow one of them. When I saw my chance, I would ambush him.

I waited, daring to raise my head above the top of the bush
to see what the warriors were doing.

A few more moments passed, and I still had not heard the
sounds of their pursuit. Clutching my spear in both hands, I crept out from
behind the bush and searched for them. They were nowhere to be seen.

Puzzled, I returned to the spot where I had killed the
turkey, careful to remain as silent as I could. The bird remained undisturbed,
and I chanced to move through the woods to the path.

I could not believe my eyes when I finally spotted the four
warriors. They were running back to their city.
Cowards!

Still trying to figure out what had caused them to flee, I
turned around, intending to return to the turkey and claim my dinner.

A shadow crept across the path in front of me, and I looked
skyward, expecting to see an eagle or some other bird of prey circling as if it
had sensed my earlier kill.

It was not a bird, however. I felt cold fear grip my bowels.

One of the story stones at Copán foretold a time when the
sun would fall from the sky and burn the world.

For the span of a heartbeat, I believed it was happening
right then. Then I realized it was not the sun, but an impossibly bright ball
of light streaking across the afternoon sky.

I remembered one of our elders, Yax Kuk, who spoke often of
the gods of the sky. On clear nights, sometimes you could see them as they
traveled on the backs of firebirds. Once in my lifetime, I witnessed such an
event. A thin line of light cut its way across the evening sky, as if one of
the stars tried to slice through the blanket of night.

Now, however, the ball of light was much larger than the one
I had seen in my youth. Instead of long tendrils of fire and smoke, there was
only a faint sparkling, like cooling embers in a campfire.

Unlike the Q’eqchi’ warriors, who fled in fear of the
strange occurrence, I became emboldened when I realized that the object was not
passing through the sky; it was going to land in the mountains to the northwest.

If it were indeed a god in his flying boat, then the first
human he encountered would be assured a place of honor. That person would
become a prophet.

I had to be that person.

With the blessings of a god, I could lead the Ch’orti’, and
regain our rightful place as the overlords of all the tribes. I would become
king. Subo Ak, savior of all the People.

Thoughts of the turkey and my empty stomach left me as I
broke into a run, following the path to the god who had returned to Earth.

2

Patrol
Ship :

Alpha
Centauri :

Alex came out
of the photonic state to a scene of chaos. Ah Tabai’s Sentinel ship was
shaking, and an immense roaring sound filled the passenger compartment.

A klaxon sounded from somewhere, and Alex heard a cry from
the other side of the chamber. Michael was on the floor on his side, holding
his knee. His face was contorted into a grimace of pain. Kenny and Yaxche were
still in their molded seats, hands gripping the sides to keep from being thrown
off.

The ship rocked again, and a moment later, the door melted
away. Ah Tabai stumbled inside.

“What’s happening?” Kenny asked, his voice desperate.

“We ran into something that exploded and breached our hull,
perhaps a mine.” Ah Tabai motioned his hand, encompassing all of them in the
room. “We have to get you to the escape pod.”

“Aren’t we back in Sol System?” Alex asked as he carefully
got out of the molded chair, keeping one hand on the edge for support.

Nodding, Ah Tabai said, “Yes. Someone was expecting your
return. The moment we arrived, we entered a minefield of some kind. We hit one,
and it disrupted our computers long enough to prevent us from jumping back into
Aetherspace.”

“Kinemetic?” Michael asked. He was still on the floor,
gritting his teeth, but it looked as if the pain from his fall was subsiding.
He was in a sitting position.

“I don’t think so,” Ah Tabai said. “We have defenses against
that. The explosion has damaged our hull. Our Aether Engine is offline. There
is a ship approaching, and they will be on us in minutes, well before we can
make repairs.” He turned to Alex. “It’s against protocol for us to be here; but
to let an un-Emerged society have access to our technology is one of our most
serious crimes. We will have to self-destruct. Our escape pod is made with very
basic technology; it is your only option. You must hurry.”

Kenny got completely up from his seat, went to assist
Michael, and got him to his feet. “Did you try to contact the ship? They could
be one of ours.”

“No,” Ah Tabai said. “I ran their signature through your
ship’s database. It is not in your records.”

Alex helped Yaxche up. “It could be the same ship—or same
people—who came after us four years ago.” It was odd thinking about the span of
time. From Alex’s perspective, it had only been a day.

“If so, how did they know we’d be back?” Kenny asked.

Michael, on his feet, though favoring his hurt leg as he let
himself be led out of the passenger compartment, said, “Probably doesn’t matter
to them. Whoever it was who attacked us before didn’t want our technology; they
were already developing their own. I’d guess they’ve been stationed out here
all along with orders to intercept any ship that came out of quantum space.”

“Or destroy them. Best way to have a monopoly is to
eliminate the competition,” Kenny said, his lips pressing together in a sour
expression.

Ah Tabai showed them the way to the belly of the ship, and
opened a portal to a small, cramped escape pod. It was a circular chamber, with
four seats set into the outer wall facing inward.

“You aren’t coming with us?” Kenny asked.

“No.” Ah Tabai shook his head. “Aliah and I will attempt to
return to our system in the command pod—it has a portable Aether engine similar
to the one we used for Alex before. We’ll try to come back with another
ship—and this time, we’ll be ready for an attack.”

Before heading inside, Alex said, “Won’t they fire on our
escape pod?”

“We’ve programmed a trajectory into the pod to take you to
the star beacon. The energy field around it should mask you from their sensors.
The pod has enough air and liquid nutrients to keep you all alive for several
weeks. Alex, you may begin to feel adverse effects by being on Pluto, but you
aren’t as sensitive as full Aethers. It won’t be pleasant, but it’s your best
chance until we can come back for you. When our ship self-destructs, the Aether
shock should disrupt the attacker’s sensors for some time.”

“Ah Tabai,” Alex said, “thank you.”

“No thanks are necessary,” he said. “Just keep yourself
alive until we can get back to you.”

With that, Alex crawled into the escape pod and squished
himself between Yaxche and Kenny, opposite Michael. Ah Tabai closed the portal
behind him as they strapped themselves in.

The four men shared uneasy glances at each other in the dim
light from a monitor display that showed life support levels. There weren’t
many controls on the pod—obviously, it wasn’t designed as a navigable spacecraft.

“Who do you think it is?” Kenny asked. “The attacker, I
mean.”

Michael, looking as if he were still in pain from his fall,
said, “Figuring out who chased us out of Sol System four years ago is less important
than the fact that they’re still out here, waiting for us.”

“How is that more important?” Kenny asked.

“It means things on Earth have changed. Even though NASA
funding had been cut back at the time we left, they would have—at the very
least—maintained an unmanned alert station out here on Pluto. The star beacon
is the most significant discovery we’ve ever made. It’s hard to believe they’d
leave it abandoned. If USA, Inc. maintained a presence here, they wouldn’t
adopt a ‘shoot first’ policy. The only reason I can think of that they weren’t
here is that some foreign power has taken control of Plutonian space. Perhaps
more than that.”

“Foreign power? Wasn’t it an Arab Conglomerates signal that
came from that ship that chased us?” Kenny said.

“Signals can be disguised. The truth is, we have no idea who
it is. All I can say is the situation on Earth must be dire.”

All through the evacuation to the escape pod, and the
discussion while they waited to be launched, Yaxche had remained silent.

“Are you all right?” Alex asked him.

“Ahyah,” the old man said, and offered Alex a reassuring
smile. “I am not used to so much excitement.”

“We’ll be fine.” Alex hoped his words would prove true.

A small chime sounded, and they heard Ah Tabai’s voice. “We’re
going to launch the command pod first, to distract the attackers. Once your
escape pod is ejected, our ship will begin a one-minute countdown. We’ll wait
until the pod is near the star beacon before we enter Aetherflight.”

“We’re all set, here,” Alex said.

A sharp rumbling sound came a few moments later, and Alex
assumed that was the command pod with Ah Tabai and Aliah.

Ah Tabai confirmed this when his voice came through the
escape pod. “We’re away. They’re firing missiles at us, but they’re far too
slow. Our countermeasures have disabled them.”

The four in the escape pod waited anxiously for what seemed
like ages, but was more like ten seconds.

“Prepare for launch,” Ah Tabai said, and the entire pod
began to shake as the engines propelled them out of the ship.

The pressure suddenly increased, and Alex found himself
unable to breath for a few moments until the acceleration leveled out.

“You’re on your way,” Ah Tabai said over the speaker.
“Countdown to self-destruct has started.”

As the escape pod’s velocity leveled out, they lost gravity,
and Alex saw Kenny go pale—many people became disoriented and nauseated in a
weightless environment.

“Thirty seconds,” Ah Tabai said. “There will most likely be
an aftershock. You should grab on to something.”

“How are you doing?” Alex asked, and then remembered that he
could use his ability to find out for himself. Closing his eyes, he pushed his
sight
out.

The escape pod was hurtling toward Pluto and the
Dis
Pater
—Sol System’s star beacon. At their current rate, they should arrive
in less than five minutes.

In the space around Pluto, the attacking ship was pursuing
the command pod. Behind them, Ah Tabai and Aliah’s scout ship drifted slowly
away from them.

“Twenty seconds,” Ah Tabai said, then his voice changed
pitch. “They’ve fired a torpedo at us. It’s not Aether-based. Their aim is off
the mark. But the concussion wave has caused the main Gliesan ship to change
direction.”

“What?” Michael asked.

“I’m not sure…” Alex started to say. Then he saw that the attacking
ship had changed course.

The Gliesan vessel drifted into another mine.

The explosion sent out enough of a shock wave to crush the
command pod’s hull.

“Ah Tabai!” Alex called out, but there was no answer.

In the escape pod, Alex didn’t feel the aftershock of the
blast, since they were already far enough away to escape the effects. When the
Gliesan scout ship exploded ten seconds later, however, the concussion wave
slammed against them so hard that, even in their restraints, the occupants were
knocked around.

The monitor of the escape pod blinked on and off, and Alex
had to turn his head as an electric spark shot out of the console.

He could feel the pod tumbling, but the only thing he could
do was hold on. There was no way to control its spin.

A low moaning sound filled the chamber, but Alex couldn’t
tell who it was.

He tried to push his
sight
out again, but before he
could focus, the escape pod struck something hard and unyielding. The impact
knocked him unconscious.

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