Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone (49 page)

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Authors: Christopher Andrews

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BOOK: Paranormals (Book 2): We Are Not Alone
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Launching from where he lay on the ground, the Shining Star shot upward and rammed his sword through the underside of the triclops’ jaw. The sword continued onward, through its tongue, through the roof of its mouth, and into the upper portion of its thick, armored head, and it did not stop until Shining Star pressed the hilt against its stony flesh.

The creature’s unobscured eyes locked on Shining Star’s face. They betrayed no emotion now, beyond a hint of confusion. Then, just like that, their glow faded. The triclops, its body befittingly stiff as a statue, fell over backward, with Shining Star riding it to the ground.

The Noctoponm were dead.

 

PCA

 

The battlefield remained silent for a short time after that. The moment, finally achieved, demanded some acknowledgment as a hard-won victory, but the combatants were so drained, no one could muster the strength to celebrate.

Takayasu offered Shining Star a hand up. He accepted it, leaving his sword embedded in the triclops’ skull for the moment.

“So ...” Michael commented, “your cape can turn into a sword and shield.”

Callin nodded, human-style.

“That might’ve come in handy earlier.”

Accepting the sarcastic dig with a grunt, Callin bent, took the sword hilt in hand, and dragged the weapon free; the blade showed no sign of blood or gore, the triclops’ skin scraping it clean as it came out. “It takes a good deal of concentration and energy,” he explained, his voice still raspy and labored. “If I had
truly
appreciated what we were up against when we first met them, I would have done so before going into battle. But I confess, in spite of my words of caution, I was overconfident. After all ...” He adopted a haughty posture, mocking himself. “... I am the Shining Star, who vanquished the evil Cargaun.” He shook his head. “By the time I realized just how bad things were going to get, it was too late. And look at what that mistake cost us.”

“Well ... at least we won.”

Callin straightened, for real this time, and whispered, “Charl ...” He turned to rejoin the others ...

... just as a harsh klaxon emanated from the open portal of the Noctoponm ship. It sounded three times, followed by a louder, lower-pitched alarm, then fell silent.

Michael turned to Callin. “Please, please tell me that’s not a self-destruct signal.”

Callin demanded, “Do you still have my communicator?” Michael passed it over as fast as he could. “Larr! Come in?”


Callin?! You sound terrible! We were just about to call your friend. Are the—?

“Larr, I need a reading on the Noctoponm ship, right now! Are you showing any power buildups?”

Ever professional, Larr did not ask for an explanation. “
Stand by ...

Running through their options, Callin addressed Michael. “If we have to—”

But Larr’s answer came through that fast. “
We are not, I repeat, are
not
showing any power buildups. Their veil might have hidden something like that, but they’ve got a breach.
” Michael gestured toward the open portal; Callin nodded his agreement. “
If anything, the ship’s power levels are dropping ... wait, Naltin has something ...

Having been on the verge of relaxing again, the next seconds of silence were difficult to handle. But again, Larr didn’t keep them waiting for long.


Callin, a minute ago some kind of signal went out from their ship. Bi-tonal, some kind of simple, coded communication.

Michael looked at Callin. “Don’t tell me there’re more Noctoponm on their way.”

Another sound pierced the silence, but this time it was coming from Michael’s coat. He pulled out his dirty, scratched phone to see a priority call coming in from Captain Brunn. With some reluctance, he accepted the call.


Lieutenant!
” Brunn snapped without waiting for a greeting. “
We’ve got trouble!

It took a great deal of discipline for Michael to hold back a smart-ass reply to that. “Captain Brunn, the Noctoponm—”


I know,
” Brunn cut him off, sounding impatient, “
satellite imagery showed the fight there ended a few minutes ago.
” As a clear afterthought, Brunn threw in a quick, “
Good job, congratulations. But, Lieutenant, I’m not talking about them.

Feeling so tired he could cry, Michael asked, “Then what is it, Captain?”


It’s that first troublemaker, the bounty hunter. He’s breaking out of the pit right now!

 

 

 

PARANORMALS AND THE TAALU

 

Moments after Callin Lan and Michael Takayasu heard the klaxon from within the Noctoponm’s ship, Lieutenant Commander Bradley Falkenberg, warden of the regional Paranormal Correctional Facility (he, personally, detested the nickname “rogue pit”) heard an alarm of his own.

Falkenberg was growing weary of these prisonbreaks. They disrupted the placidity he strove to create for both inmates and guards alike, and this turmoil served neither group well. He had been led to understand that, with the addition of the odd individual currently locked away in solitary confinement, these occurrences would die down. Yet, here he was, working very late in his office but just minutes from finally going home, and the alarm was sounding. He took a moment to calm his irritation before hefting himself up from his chair and moving into the outer office to man the central intercom, something Ensign Blackwater usually did during normal hours.

“This is Falkenberg,” he stated — no reason to snap at the watch supervisors; this wasn’t their fault. “Which wing is affected this time?”

Different supervisors sounded off, each returning the “all clear,” until—

“This is Ensign Shimazu in Solitary, sir. The unit at the end of the hall just went dark.”

“Explain ‘went dark,’ Ensign.”

“The lights in that cell are out, most of the hallway lights are blown, and all anti-rogue systems at that end shut down at once,” the Ensign replied, sounding more panicked as he rambled on. “We didn’t detect any undue pressure on the safety glass, no increase in heat or cold, no corrosives or heavy gases. The psi-meter was flat, but to be honest, sir, none of us really trust that one. I saw a tiny spike in the ambient electrical field, but nothing that couldn’t happen ... Hold on, sir.”

Keeping the line open for the Ensign, Falkenberg fumbled for his phone. Captain Brunn and that La Palma fellow from Homeland Security had been very clear about the sensitive nature of this VIP guest. In spite of the hour, the phone only rang twice before the Captain picked up the line ...

 

PCA

 

The bounty hunter — whose given name was so long and difficult to pronounce in his native language that even he
hated to say — used his natural, retractable claws to crawl along the ceiling, down the hallway toward the daft human guards. None of them had yet to look up, which was a good thing — thanks to that slant-eyed human, his hunter’s cloak was seriously impaired. If any of those feebleminded humans thought to shine a light at the ceiling, there was a good chance they would notice the orange coating he had been unable to get rid of ... which was why he needed to take them down the moment they got up the nerve to move under him. The problem was, the hallway was very dark now, and the humans were spooked.

Stupid primates — they took away his spiker, took away his favorite blade, blunted his cloak, locked him in a zoo exhibit of a cage ... and then they just
assumed
that, in spite of his alien physiology, their primitive little headband would inhibit any convert abilities he might have? Had they not considered
how
 he had been setting their converts free? Did they think he shorted out their security measures with his knife? Idiots.

Of course, it was one thing to approach those security measures from the
out
side, when he had time to examine and calculate. But when the signal came through to his subdermal receiver that the Noctoponm had failed —
failed!
as impossible as that seemed — he’d had no time for finesse. Once the Taalu discovered that his three associates had their own subdermal transponders (transponders he had tricked the Noctoponm, not without personal risk, into accepting a few years ago), it wouldn’t take them long to realize their purpose. If the hunter wanted any
chance of claiming that Veraun reward, he had to get out of here right now. So, he’d had to fire off his convert-gifted EMP a little stronger, a little broader, than he preferred, but it was a risk he had to take ... and it paid off when his cage opened — something the natives could have prevented with the inclusion of a simple, manual lock. Morons.

The humans were finally inching their way toward his empty cell, their hand lights scanning back and forth. He stopped moving, unable to risk one of them finally spotting a flitter of fluorescent orange (damn that slant-eyed human!) as they passed under him. Their stun weapons were a little weak by his species’ standards, and a little weaker still by his own, but they had already proven that enough of them at once could bring him down.

Treading carefully, their weapons at the ready, the four humans crept past, the taller one barely a foot below him. He would have preferred his spiker for this next part, but he knew from experience that his claws would do.

Then one of them finally turned his light upward and gasped.

The bounty hunter dropped ... and three men and one woman died.

 

PCA

 

When Callin and Michael informed the others of the emergency, they did not grasp the danger at first. They were all so tired, so hurt, still coming down from the mortal threat of the Noctoponm, that they were willing to let this one slide for now. They’d caught the bounty hunter once, they could do it again — later, after they’d all slept for a week.

But Larr, who had come running with Naltin and Callin’s mother to Charl’s side, got it right away, and his conviction spread to the rest of them: If the bounty hunter, whose well-cloaked ship they had never located, were to truly escape — as in leave planet Earth — he would be free to tell others,
any
 others, where the Taalu could be found. More hunters would come, and where would it end?

But what could they do? The rogue pit was further away than Cheyenne — would a jet get there fast enough?

“And who goes?” Density pointed out. “Shockwave is out, Powerhouse isn’t much better off, and this poor Charl boy needs medical attention right now.”

“She’s right,” Steve agreed, holding his right side as he rose to his feet. “Michael and I can go with Callin—”

“Vortex,” Michael interrupted, “you’re in pretty bad shape yourself.”

“Not as bad as these guys,” he retorted. “Remember, every second that goes by, I’m recharging. I’ll be ready.”

“I was referring to your injuries—” Michael began.

“I can’t wait for your jet this time,” Callin remarked. “We can’t risk the bounty hunter’s escape. I’ll get there faster alone.”

“Grand Lord,” Larr rebuked, “you’re wounded. And never mind the energy you depleted summoning your sword and shield—”

“We’re wasting time,” Callin snapped, “time we don’t have!”

Steve limped forward. “Take me with you.”

“I can’t,” Callin said, barely reigning in his impatience. “I wouldn’t be able to fly fast enough if I carried you. My energy sheath, the wind pressure—”

“Callin,” Larr cut in, “right now you won’t be able to fly fast enough for that to be a concern. And what good will it do if you fall flat on your face when you get there?”

Della joined them as Larr finished his reproval. Naltin had brought her a translator, and she said, “Larr tells that’s right, Callin. You have need my help.”

“Della,” Callin chided his sister, “you aren’t as fast as I am.” He waved them all away. “This is ridiculous. I have to go,
now
.”

Della took his right hand in hers, wrapping her fingers around the grip he still had on his sword. “You misunderstand. If I’m not fast to join you, I can help the speed together.”

Steve whispered to Michael, “I didn’t follow that one.”

But Callin had. “Della, that’s dangerous ...”

Reaching up to her collar, Della switched her translator off. When she next spoke, the only word the humans understood was “Cargaun.” Callin shook his head, tried to pull his hand away, but she wouldn’t let him go; instead, she placed her other hand against his cheek and added something more.

“She’s right, Callin,” Larr said in English.

Callin shook his head again. “No ... I—”

“As you keep saying, Grand Lord,” Larr pointed out, “we don’t have time to argue.” The old man turned to Steve. “Will you go with him?”

“Absolutely.”

“Callin, recall your armament, but have them spread longer, wider. Do it now, before sharing from Della.”

Torn between wanting to argue and the ticking clock, Callin nodded, then lowered his head in rapt focus. The metal of his sword and shield wavered, rippled, and as he brought his arms together, they appeared to almost liquify as they reached toward one another, transmuting into the familiar, glistening fabric of Callin’s cape.

As this transpired, Larr surprised Steve by saying to him in a very low voice, “They were constructed of an organic steel, something we call ‘living metal’ — very rare, very valuable. When Callin was exposed to the conversion wave during his fight with the Cargaun, it also affected
them
.”

Steve had a million questions, but he knew they would have to wait.

Once the sword and shield completed their transformation, Larr collected the cape that lay across Callin’s arms. “Share from Della, now. Hurry.”

As Callin and Della faced one another, Larr turned toward Steve, allowing the cape to spread and hang free — it was larger than before; if Callin wore it now, it would drag the ground.

“We will wrap you in this,” Larr whispered. “It will shield you from the wind and help you to breathe, as well as protect you from Callin’s energy.”

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