Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller Page 14

  “Yeah.” Jaxx lay on the couch, determined to say as little as possible, just in case Fox or Slade watched. He didn’t want to screw anything else up.

  “I have a question before we begin,” Donny’s frown deepened. “Are there any times in your life that you just don’t remember? Like five years of your life that seem a blur or simply erased from your mind?”

  “I don’t think so. Why?”

  “You’re the only person that I’ve met who has no memory of being in the SSP except through hypnotherapy.” Donny tapped his clipboard with his pen. “Maybe some memory loss in your mid-thirties?”

  Jaxx looked off to the right. “I...uh...can’t recall not remembering anything. Then again, you wouldn’t, would you?”

  “How old were you when you graduated from college?”

  “Twenty-four. I went for longer than most.”

  “So, you graduated high school, then graduated college, then started as an archaeologist right away?”

  “I didn’t just start as an archaeologist—”

  Donny palmed his clipboard. “Skip that question. Did you ever have any interest in the military?”

  “Actually, I did. I wasn’t getting any archeology field work and was mostly an apprentice for another archaeologist, which wasn’t exciting, and the pay was terrible. I was behind on bills so I checked out the Navy, where I could get an actual paycheck.” Jaxx scratched his temple. “I was around twenty-eight years old.”

  “Did you join?”

  “No. After a few months, I realized enlisting would be the wrong course of action. Navy just wasn’t my passion.”

  “Did they run tests on you?”

  “Just a physical. Like I said, I didn’t enlist.”

  “Okay, what did you do when you were thirty years old?”

  Jaxx smiled. “My sister threw me a surprise party.”

  “Excellent. Sounds fun. What did you do for your thirty-first party?”

  Jaxx wiped his brow. “Hmm...there was this time…” He scrunched up his nose and stared at the wall. “A recruiter met with me when I was thirty-two.”

  “Then what?”

  “He just came by, asked if I wanted to join. If I had a change of heart. I asked him if I was too old and he shook his head. That was that and he went on his merry way.”

  “He came to your house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s odd.” Donny jotted something down on his clipboard. “What did you do for your thirty-third birthday party?”

  Jaxx put his hands behind his neck. That time of his life was hazy. The memories weren’t there. “I...well...” He scanned his brain for anything, for something. Nothing came to the surface. “It’s blank.” He wiped his forehead. “What the hell? And, for my thirty-fourth?” He rubbed his eyes, disturbed. “No clue. I don’t remember a thing. The last party I remember was when I was thirty-seven, when I had my first book launch.” Jaxx sat up. “That was the first time I put myself out there to the world. The world came back, calling me names. It’s odd how you can think you’re so smart and when you attempt to show the world your research, they can torch you without hesitation. That’s when I realized I wasn’t as intelligent as I thought. So, I write books more or less to satiate my book-writing and research-loving appetite.” Jaxx gently slapped his cheeks, an attempt to get himself back on track. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is where the hell my memories went.”

  Donny shook his finger. “And, why the Secret Space Program or whoever, wiped your memories. My guess is that when you were around thirty-two or thirty-three the Secret Space Program took you. Don’t beat yourself up for not remembering. They have tech neither you nor I have even heard of. And I’ve never heard of them erasing someone’s memories. I wonder why?” He sighed, long and heavy.

  Jaxx stared at Donny. Was he signaling that he was an ally? Was he going to help him work this infuriating puzzle out? Was he going to stick his neck out and be a real man?

  Donny doodled in the margins of his paper. “I wish we could go back to that time and pin-point the exact age you were taken and the exact reason your memories were deleted.”

  “We can,” said Jaxx, as excited as he had been on that first day, when Slade had told him he’d be earning silly money interpreting hieroglyphs from space.

  Donny let out one of his trademark sighs. “Slade has me looking for something else with these sessions.”

  Jaxx threw himself back down on his mattress. He shouldn’t have been disappointed with Donny. He shouldn’t have expected anything in the first place. He was a yes-man, through and through. He wasn’t going to help him. “What does he have you looking for?”

  Donny grimaced. “Well, apparently Rivkah Ravenwood has similar...let’s say...abilities as you. We think she developed them shortly before she left the Secret Space Program. And we think you may have something to do with her abilities.”

  Jaxx sprang to his feet. “Rivkah? Rivkah’s here?”

  Donny realized his error.

  “How is that possible? Who brought her here? What are they doing with her?” He charged Donny’s chair and got up in his grill. “Tell me you’re not doing this shit to her, you measly little worm.”

  Donny didn’t flinch. “Sit down, Kaden.”

  “Let me see her.”

  “That’s not on today’s menu, Mr. Jaxx. Today, we’re going to investigate how and when you transferred your abilities to Miss Ravenwood.”

  “That’s bullshit. I couldn’t move objects with my mind before I got here. I couldn’t have given these ‘powers’, as you call them, to anyone.”

  “Though there is the matter of the missing years. The years you don’t remember? The years I believe you worked for the SSP, more likely than not, with Ms. Ravenwood.”

  “That would be Pilot First Class Captain Ravenwood, to you.”

  “As you wish,” said Donny. He was a smooth asshole when he wanted to be. “Pilot First Class Captain Ravenwood.”

  Jaxx narrowed his eyes. “Can’t you just put me under and take me back there. We need answers. Now.”

  “Certainly,” said Donny. “You’re going deeper...and deeper...”

  Jaxx was out before Donny said another word.

  Jaxx sat in his starfighter, parked inside one of Star Warden’s large Star Carrier bays. Dammit. He’d landed back in his memories, but only minutes after he’d steered a rock into a crack in a ship and brought it down. Where was Rivkah? Had she made it back? Where was the rest of his squad?

  A knock on his cockpit window jolted him out of his racing thoughts and into the carrier bay. A man stood on a ladder and waved, then knocked again. Jaxx pressed a button and his cockpit window lifted. The man climbed down the ladder, jumping to the bay floor.

  Cheering engulfed the bay, people clapping and hollering.

  A crackle came over his helmet comm line. It was Rivkah. “I’d like to think I helped out there too. But, this is your day. Enjoy it.”

  “How did I do that out there?” Jaxx asked, still sitting in his cockpit, dazed at what he had become in combat.

  “That’s what I think everyone will want to know. Get out of your starfighter and celebrate, because tomorrow the enemy will be back. We’ll need you.”

  Jaxx stood. It was the applause he’d been waiting for his entire life. If he knew how he had flown with such precision, how he’d merged with his craft, how he moved things with his mind, then he’d be able to walk down the ladder with confidence and embrace the whoops and hollers from his comrades. As it was, he felt like the world’s greatest fraud. What he’d done was a fluke, an anomaly. His legs and arms shook with each step down. He did his best not to faint or lose his grip and fall backward.

  He held down his comm tab. “Thank you, Rivkah. I pushed the control stick forward when exiting the launch tube. Your advice saved my life.”

  “It did. Now, get to your celebration. Rivkah, out.”

  Jaxx touched ground and unstrapped his helmet, placing it under his arm
. People slapped him on his back as he walked by, making his way out of the bay and into the Star Carrier’s large lobby. If he could go to his quarters and sleep, he would. Sleep, though, would probably evade him tonight. He imagined the stress and the excitement would be too much for his brain to handle.

  Full of people, the lobby buzzed. Crew hastily moved from one place to another, down hallways and into offices. Medical techs ran by Jaxx and down adjacent hallways, heading to the carrier’s stern. But every three or four steps, someone took the time to congratulate him. He was, if they were to be believed, a star, a legend, a damned wizard out there.

  “Attention on deck!”

  Jaxx turned. The admiral. Jaxx didn’t recognize his face, but his epaulets said it all. A guard walked with the admiral, decked out in armor from head to toe, a large rifle strapped to his back. The guard looked about a foot taller than Jaxx, and Jaxx was above average height.

  They halted in front of him. The admiral put his hands behind his back, beaming with the kind of confidence only an admiral could have. “I’m Admiral Gentry Race. Follow me.”

  Jaxx straightened his posture. “Yes, Sir.”

  Jaxx followed Gentry up a flight of stairs and into a large room with a long meeting table in the middle. A woman in full flight gear sat at the table, hands folded in front of her, her helmet resting on the seat next to her. She was breathtaking and for a second, Jaxx couldn’t take his eyes off her. He knew who she was. She’d broken through his memory barrier, on the other side of time, and made herself known to him. He’d remembered nothing of his time as a pilot, until he was under hypnosis, but she had visited in his room’s mirror, asked for his help. She was someone. She was special. She was Rivkah Ravenwood.

  When Rivkah saw the admiral, she stood and saluted.

  He gave her a nod and gestured for the large guard to wait outside, then dipped his head at the uniformed man.

  “Take a seat,” the admiral ordered.

  Jaxx sat, wondering why he’d been led here. He’d never met the admiral, the guy in the uniform. Was he in trouble for some reason? If he was, he wished they’d ship him back home.

  Gentry motioned to the woman. “You already know Captain Rivkah Ravenwood.” He sat straighter in his seat, chest out. “Behind me is Captain Richard Fox.”

  Fox said nothing.

  Jaxx eyed the woman, stunned—Rivkah. Black hair, blue eyes, and light brown skin. “Again, thank you.”

  Expressionless, she replied, “No need to thank me. We’re squad mates. It’s what we do.” She brought her attention to Gentry. “Why were we brought here?”

  Gentry interlocked his fingers. “I was a starfighter for many years and have been in combat for almost as long. I’ve never seen a pilot fly like Lieutenant Kaden Jaxx here.” He turned to Jaxx. “You did things in your starfighter that defy logic. Your precision in flight, extraordinary, your accuracy, for the record books.” He cleared his throat. “I watched you on the vid screen once Captain Fox alerted me that one of our starfighters executed extraordinary feats. It seemed that debris around you moved in unpredictable—dare I say it—physics-defying ways. Even out in space.”

  The admiral took a deep breath. “How did you maneuver the way you did, Jaxx? How were you so accurate with every plasma bolt, with everything you targeted?” He pointed to a screen on the wall. “Every starfighter has a camera placed on it. It reviews every weapon’s fire and every direct hit, amongst several other things. The only weapon’s fire in which you missed were when we think you purposely did so.”

  Jaxx remained silent, not knowing what to say. He was just as baffled as Gentry.

  “Who trained you?” asked Fox.

  “I was trained just outside Gliese Space Station in Libra quadrant.”

  Fox frowned. “Yes, that’s where you learned to pilot. What I’m asking is who trained you to do what you did out there?”

  “Just the instructors at Gliese Space Station. Do you want actual names?”

  Fox and Gentry gave each other a look. Gentry rubbed his hands together and eyed Jaxx, a grin plastered on his face. “No. Not necessary. Have you ever heard of planet Taiyo?”

  “Planet Taiyo? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “The Taiyonians,” Gentry added, “are an evil group. They have taken resources and stolen a planet from the Kelhoon. They renamed the Kelhoon’s world, Taiyo. So in response we have aligned with the Kelhoon to help them take back their world.”

  Jaxx put his hands on the desk. “What does this have to do with me?”

  Gentry, steely-faced, replied, “You’ll be under Captain Rivkah Ravenwood’s command from this point forward. You’ll be going into Taiyo’s quadrant. Only the best of the best pilots are allowed on this mission to liberate the Kelhoon world. We’ll be drafting you a formal letter in a half an hour. You’ll be leaving immediately.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Captain Richard Fox will act as leader of this mission.”

  Jaxx didn’t get a choice in the matter, so he responded like any good Lieutenant would. “Yes, Sir.”

  Gentry stood and walked out of the room, Fox in tow.

  “If you don’t have any questions, Lieutenant Jaxx, then you’re dismissed,” Rivkah said. Clearly blind-sided by this, she bit her lip. She did her best to hold in her anger.

  “Why are we going to go to Taiyo’s quadrant?”

  She crossed her arms. “Didn’t you hear what the admiral just said?”

  “But, why would we help this Kelhoon group?”

  Rivkah’s shoulder’s drooped and she shook her head. “I don’t know. Taiyo probably has precious minerals and ore that we can extract from their planet. The Kelhoon are a pretty ruthless group. The only reason we’d align with them is if we’re profiting from them...somehow.”

  Jaxx was surprised at her honest response. She wasn’t the normal type of captain he’d been used to—dull and by the book. “But, the Taiyonians stole that planet?”

  “I doubt it.”

  Jaxx rubbed the back of his neck. “Can I back out of this?”

  “No. You signed up for this and so did I. We follow orders. We do the job we are paid for, Lieutenant.”

  “And we’re going to fight alongside this Kelhoon race?”

  “Yes.”

  Jaxx wanted to reach out and touch her, if only on the arm; get her to mellow a little, see who she really was. “Who are they? What do they look like?”

  “A once threat to our race. They’re a mix of human and Drakonian. By the way, you were fighting the Drakonians out there. The Drakonians are a lizard bi-ped species. Our race and the Drakonian race don’t get along. Anymore questions?”

  Jaxx looked down. “Probably. But, not right now.”

  “Dismissed.”

  25

  June 5th

  Plano, Texas

  The light grew in size and a horn blared, almost toppling Drew over. He didn’t know if the horn went off because the person driving the colossal monorail had seen him, or if it was protocol.

  The monorail was an abomination of all monorails, and in fact, was more of a dualrail that took up two rails, instead of one.

  The tunnel was long, but the monorail’s speed reached Drew’s position in seconds. Drew’s hair pushed back as the wind of the rushing titanic zipped by, pulling monocar after monocar, all the size of small cruise-liners.

  He took a picture and ran, jumping through the doorway that led him to the monorail tunnel. The monorail came to a whining halt. He hoped it wasn’t because of him.

  Drew ran past the offices and underneath the spaceship. He eyed the doorway that separated one portion of the warehouse from the other, and bolted faster.

  “There he is!” yelled a man.

  Drew looked over his shoulder. Men in military garb, rifles in hand, ran in his direction. Trouble. Big time trouble. “Shit.” Making it through the doorway, he pressed the elevator button. “Stupid idea, Drew.” Waiting for an elevator would get him caught, or worse yet, shot.

&nb
sp; He twisted around, hearing the elevator ding open, disregarding it, thinking he was too late to enter. Instead, he looked for places to hide, and hurried past the luggage and food until he found the dune buggies. They were good and bulky. Ideal. He ducked behind one. He curled his hands around the roll bar, and peeked his head just above the seat.

  More than a dozen men filed through the doorway. One pointed and gave orders. The elevator dinged and they all turned, watching the elevator’s doors close.

  “He’s in the elevator!”

  Drew crawled backward, bumping into a tire, then rolled around to another buggy. He peeked again. The men spread out, searching for him. Obviously, they had ascertained that Drew wasn’t in the elevator.

  Shit, what do I do? He crawled toward the back of the warehouse, moving by small aircrafts.

  “Shoot to kill!” roared a man.

  Drew’s head shot back stiffly, not believing what he just heard. They’re going to kill me? For trespassing? He always wanted to uncover a horrible conspiracy, and his wishes had come true. He wasn’t ready to die.

  Drew crawled faster, knowing he was about to run out of room. Soon, he’d be stuck and out of options.

  A loud bang sounded across the room. At first, he thought a rifle had gone off until he saw the garage-like doors opening and dozens of military pouring from the monorail into the warehouse, guns pointed outward.

  The good news, they hadn’t seen him. The bad news, they’d see him sooner than later. He conjured up two options. One, hands up, surrendering, hoping they weren’t going to shoot to kill. Or, two, do what he was about to do.

  He studied the closest aircraft, not seeing a handle, but where a handle should have been attached a large round button. He pressed it.

  The aircraft’s door opened upward like a gullwing or a fancy sport car. He pulled himself inside and onto a seat, pressing another button. The door shut. A lock function was on the control panel next to the control wheel and he pushed on it as fast as he could, hearing the craft lock.