Blade Of Reckoning, Chris Harris [inspirational books for women .TXT] 📗

Chapter 1: Blast From The Past

The Other

An asteroid that freely floated in the space between the planets Exapatisi and Zerlom came into view from his ship. A dark grey rock, filled with craters and caves as the result of thousands of collisions, it moved slowly around in the asteroid belt.

“Take us down.” commanded The Other.

“Yessir.” responded the pilot casually.

The ship descended and now The Other could make out things on the surface of the asteroid: the bumps in the rock, made after millennia of erosion; the smaller craters, home to Archanoids, the space faring spiders; but most of all, the other ships. Like bees at a hive, they were swarming into one of the larger caves in the surface of the asteroid. Good, soon the meeting can begin. The ship descended into the cave and darkness engulfed them briefly, before they emerged into the vast area, with torches lighting the stone walls with their flickering illumination. In the centre of the area was a vast building. Church-like in structure, the building was adorned with gargoyles, which lined the tops of windows and the doorway.

The ship landed neatly around the back of the building with nought but a hiss as landing gear extended and touched the ground. The Other stood in the spacious ship, thanked the pilot, and pushed a button which opened the door on the ship. Stepping out, he heard mixed chatter from around the building. Various languages hit The Other's ears, but he understood them anyhow due to his translator, which was embedded into his brain. This allowed him to understand and speak all known languages, due to the information stored on the translator's micro-drive, a state of the art hard-drive no larger than a cell. Usually, the built-in translators where only given to diplomats, but The Other had managed to acquire one.

At the back of the building was a small door, less impressive than the ten-foot high, wooden doors at the front of the church. The Other entered as the door opened for him, seemingly without assistance. In the hallway that greeted him, various species of creatures gathered and sat on small chairs, all equipped with a translator unit that could be affixed to one's ear.

“Welcome.” The Other said, taking his place at an altar in front of the crowd. “I'm glad you got the message.” The e-message that The Other had sent simply said It's time. Meet tomorrow. “As the Church Of Cloud, we have stood for centuries waiting for this time to approach. Five centuries, in fact. And now, it is time.” The Other swept his long, black robe off, revealing black and red armour beneath. A serpent adorned each arm, with the gaping mouth at the shoulder and the tail, which ended at the wrist. A blade was slung across his back in a black leather sheath, its hilt encrusted with rubies. “I need you all here today, so that I can bring Blue Cloud, the great lord of our great church, back to our time.”

In the Book Of Cloud, it states that the son of Hades, Blue Cloud, named after an aura of power that surrounded him, fell through time while trying to find one of the four segments of the Blade Of Olympus, so that he may destroy it and his father could be free. The Church Of Cloud was formed to bring him back.

“How do we do that?” yelled a creature from the back of the room.

“We open a portal,” The Other announced, producing a ring. “Using this: A Cronus Ring. This allows the creation of a time portal, and we will bring him back. But,” The Other walked down the centre of the aisle, seats on either side of him at this point until he reached the large wooden door, “The dilemma is how to open the portal.” He locked the door, and dropped the key on the floor. He drew his sword, and an intake of breath was audible. “A blood sacrifice will do.” He was greeted by silence and held breath. “Any volunteers? No?” He waited a minute. “Good.”

The Other span, beheading the nearest person, throwing blood everywhere, along with the screams of everyone else. The head hit the floor and rolled, the creature's blue skinned lips parted slightly, with blood trickling through them. The Ring Of Cronus dropped to the floor as The Other opened his hand, falling into a pool of blood. “But this isn't enough blood to make the portal go back in time enough.”

He looked around, mainly at the chair legs that his audience sat upon. Metallic. Steel in fact. Magnetic. “All of you.” he addressed them, an open palm held out in front of him. “It's time to die.” He clenched his fist.

As he did so, the legs of the chairs twisted upwards, latching onto the occupants and slowly tightened, digging into the occupants' legs as the chairs themselves toppled. “Die for me.” The Other said, “Die for Blue Cloud.”

And as he walked back to the altar, blood spilled over the floor and the Ring began to shake...

*

Cinradahs

The planetary museum, known as the Musun, held statues and recreations of every known species to be extinct, along with exhibits, such as the “Legends” exhibit. Cinradahs strolled through the Legends exhibit freely, although it was crowded. They all knew who he was, however: the Shadow Minister that had run against Overlord Tahkshi in the Overlord Election. “Good day to you,” he said pleasantly to one family that were observing a bust of the Greek God Zeus. Cinradahs stopped in front of a display labelled “The Lost Legend” and smirked. Encased in alarmed glass was the Lost Legend Manuscript itself, consisting of one, browning page. The edges were creased and curled inwards, as if trying to conceal its shy content from a hateful world.

“Minister Cinradahs?” came a voice from behind him.

Cinradahs turned to see a young female human, with long blonde hair and a recorder-headpiece tangled inside it. Journalist.

“Yes, m'dear?”

“Never knew you were a fan of such legends.” she said.

“Ah,” Cinradahs smiled, “The Lost Legend is not just any legend though, is it? Found only fifty years ago on Narcsard, I think it's pretty unique.”

“I guess.” she conceded.

“Now, can I be left, Miss...?” he asked, proffering a hand.

“Call me Pandora.” she said, shaking his hand.

As she left, Cinradahs couldn't help but think that something was familiar about Pandora, but the memory alluded him. He turned back to the display and looked above the Lost Legend to see a curled seashell-like object, labelled “Cornopticus”. Cinradahs smiled, before walking away and muttering, “Target located.”

*

Pandora

As Pandora walked away from Cinradahs, she frowned slightly. As a telepath, she could delve into the minds of others, but she could not enter Cinradahs' mind. She discarded the recorder-headpiece, tossing it in the nearest bin, whereupon it would travel to down a chute to a furnace at the centre of the Musun and be used to partially power the immense museum. She placed a finger to her temples and communicated outwards to one person. Trexor. Cinradahs is up to something. He's got mind armour. Mind armour was the slang term for an augmentation that blocks the view of telepaths. There's less than a thousand telepaths in the galaxy, but he's so paranoid...

she thought. Now, go away Trexor, I have a date.

Really?

Came the thought-communicated response, Another one?

Yeah,

she smiled, He wants to tell me something important.

Good for you,

came the reply, I'll begone for now.

*

Hurricane

Hurricane sat at a table in the Musun's café, casually observing his surroundings due to his loneliness. A couple sat at the table opposite, each drinking a cup of what could only be described as a thick brown liquid, as viscous as custard. Hurricane didn't know what the liquid was, but he vowed never to drink it. The table he was sitting at was made of a single slab of faded-yellow ivory. The texture of it was smooth, he noticed, as he drummed his fingers on the surface. Ivory naturally rots away, but with the right treatment products, it can last for a lifetime.

A woman walked towards his table, her blonde hair waving as she walked. Hurricane's pupils dilated due to her attractiveness and it was at this moment that he was glad to be dating her. And upset to have to leave her.

“Pandora!” he exclaimed, standing up and holding his arms open.

“Hurricane.” she greeted, falling into his arms.

He closed his arms around her and held her close, afraid to let her go. “Pandora, I...” he started, before the words choked in his throat.

“It's fine.” she said, placing a finger to his lips. “I know it's hard for you.”

“What?” Hurricane asked, perplexed.

Pandora sighed heavily, before explaining herself. “I'm a telepath, Hurricane. I know you're going.”

Hurricane was taken aback, not knowing what to think. “Why didn't you tell me?” he asked, the first thing that came into his head.

Pandora sighed. “I never tell my partners until we've been together a long time. I didn't want you to feel...threatened.”

Hurricane thought it over, and remembered his overreaction when he found out that she was trained in multiple martial arts. “That's fair enough.” he agreed. “But haven't we been together long enough now?”

“And I'm telling you.” she said, “As for you leaving, where are you going?”

“Not reading my mind this time?” Hurricane asked, before saying, “We don't know. There is a small planet in the Sol System that Tors likes the look of. But I think we'll be like intergalactic vagrants for a while.”

Pandora chuckled. Hurricane smiled: he found her chuckle cute, the way her olive skin bunched together as she tried to hide her smile. “I'll come and find you.” Pandora said, “In a few weeks.”

Hurricane smiled. “That would be great. I would wait for you, but tonight is the first night in over a decade for the pulses to calm.” Hurricane lived on the planet Narcsard. Formerly a lush jungle planet with an almost infinite amount of natural resources, colonisation had taken its toll on the emerald marble, and now it was dying. Earthquakes threatened lives daily and acid fell from dark green clouds that blot out the sun. Huge electromagnetic pulses were emitted from the planet's core, grounding all ships. Luckily for Hurricane, on every civilised planet, there are teleportation booths that lead directly to the Musun.

“I understand,” she said, looking forlorn. “So, Earth first, eh?”

“That's what the locals call it.” Hurricane said, “They are a growing culture, with not much space travel, but Tors likes the sound of it.” Tors was Hurricane's best friend and companion, who was also friends with the scientist Insectiron, who predicted the calm in the EMPs.

They stood awkwardly for a few minutes, until Pandora said, “I'll see you soon then.”

“Yeah, I hope so.” Hurricane said with a sad smile. He didn't want to leave, but he had to. Or else he could die as Narcsard destroys itself.

She leant over and kissed him on the cheek. “Goodbye.” came a loving whisper as her lips departed from