Timeless (The Cartographer Book 3) (24 page)

“Go try it on,” he said. “But be quick about it, we are on a tight schedule.”

The suit was snug, but comfortable. It contoured around my body like a big glove, which allowed me the freedom to move with very little encumbrance. Dotting the neckline were several flat, copper-colored circles. “What are these?” I asked Grillick, pointing at the neckline.

“Think of the suit as a computer system,” he explained. “The helmet is your operating system and the suit is your hard drive. Go ahead and put it on.”

The helmet slid over my head effortlessly. A humming sound, similar to a telephone pole transformer, came from the helmet as soon as it connected to the copper dots. Several grids appeared in my peripheral line of vision and a jumbled mess of numbers started flashing all over my screen.

“Grillick, I need help!” I exclaimed. “Random numbers are appearing all over and they are mixed with some sort of grid network. I can't see a damned thing.”

“Relax! The system is booting up. The numbers are nothing more than the OmniTitan panel booting up. The clutter on the screen should subside shortly.”

As soon as he said that, the deluge of numbers vanished, leaving my room covered in a ghostly green hue. “Okay, it cleared up, but everything is green now.”

“Working as intended, my dear boy,” Grillick chirped.

He grabbed a turret from the bed and placed it in my hand. To the right of my screen, both numbers and letters, nothing more than gibberish, scrolled past before eventually coming to a stop. The words on my screen were now legible:
Mobile Turret Model 175.001
.

“Hey, that's pretty cool!” I exclaimed. I placed the turret on the bed and picked up the EMP soup can. After an initial storm of jumbled words and numbers, another identifier emerged:
EMP Canister Model 75.323
.

“We are short on time, so we have to make this quick.” Grillick removed the handgun from the holster, pointed it at my chest and fired.

The impact caused me to vomit all the air from my lungs and propelled me backwards into the wall. My chest felt like it had been run over by a freight train. Data scrolled across my screen furiously.
Impact event detected 2.3 inches below left pectoral region. Armor reinforcement protocol initiatives engaged. Structural integrity remains intact.

“What the hell did you do that for?” I wheezed as I stood up on legs that felt like tubes of Jello. “You could have killed me!”

“You were fine,” he scoffed. He waved me off like a bothersome fly. “The front of the suit is designed to withstand high velocity impact speeds up to fifty-five hundred feet per second, which falls toward the higher spectrum regarding ballistics. The suit is somewhat weaker in the back, only able to withstand speeds up to three thousand feet per second.”

I removed the helmet and scowled. “Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better about the fact that you shot me.”

Grillick ran his hand over the impact spot. “I do admit, I was worried that the integrity of the suit had been compromised,” he muttered.

I raised my eyebrows. “And what if it was?” My concern level hovered slightly above
RED ALERT
status.

“If that was the case then the shuttle heading to Gliese would be one man short,” he replied casually, as if he just told me he was taking a walk to the corner store.

I decided to move away from the conversation for the sake of my sanity. I shoved the helmet on and collected my things. “Are we ready to go?” I grumbled.

Grillick nodded and his expression turned serious. He ran his hand through his beard and scratched violently—a sign of agitation I had seen several times before.
This mission was eating at him,
I thought gravely. He turned and I followed him to the shuttle bay. When we arrived, Cantrell was circling the shuttle, inspecting it. Unlike the other shuttles, this one was designed differently. Instead of looking like a school bus reject, Grillick's special shuttle was aerodynamically designed. The main portion of the shuttle was flanked by two oversized globes serving as its wings. The overall size of the shuttle was no bigger than a tractor-trailer and I wondered if it could hold the ten of us. I walked up to one of the globes and ran my hand across its surface. The surface of the wing had several small holes and felt more like fiberglass.

“It's constructed of mithrantium,” Grillick boasted.

“Mithrantium?” I echoed.

“It's a mineral that has been located on only one planet in the known universe so far,” explained Grillick. “The material is mined underneath the lava lakes on Charr. It is a pain to acquire, and quite expensive, which is one of the many reasons I only have one shuttle at the moment. What very few people know, however, is how well mithrantium conducts the energy required to power the cloaking device.”

“Charr?” I said thoughtfully, rubbing my chin.
Charr, the birthplace of Calypso
. The coincidence between the two created an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, like some coincidental omen regarding upcoming events.

“Enough gabbing,” grumbled Cantrell. “Let's get this show on the road.” He stepped up on the boarding ramp and waved his hands impatiently when I didn't move. “Come on, let's GO!”

I stepped onto the boarding ramp, but was stopped when Grillick grabbed my elbow. “Good luck.” He wore a crooked smile, but his eyes hid another emotion.
Could it be sadness?
Regret for sending us on a potential suicide mission?

“Thanks.” It was a weak response, but it was the only thing I could think of at the time.

I stepped aboard the shuttle and grabbed the closest empty seat. The inside of the shuttle was roomier than the outside appeared. I sat next to a tall, slender female mercenary with long, violet hair, and green, leathery skin. Her eyes were fixed with such a cold look that I could have sworn it was snowing on my shoulder. She tightened her grip on the helmet in her lap and leaned in toward me as soon as I sat down.

“What's your name kid?” she hissed. Her voice reminded me of steam escaping a tea pot.

“Nathan,” I replied firmly. I refused to show any outward signs of nervousness in front of Cantrell's mercenaries. Despite my outward appearance, I felt uncomfortable sitting next to her. Her breath smelled like cabbage boiled in urine.

She leaned back in her seat and spared me from any further tokes on her sour breath. “Good,” she purred. “I like to know the names of the people I have to bury.”

This should be a fun trip
, I thought. The door to the shuttle closed and Cantrell took the controls. Before he could take off, the ship was rocked by an explosion. I was in the middle of buckling my seatbelt when the impact propelled me forward out of my seat. I smashed my forehead into a nearby console and watched stars crowd my vision.

“What the hell is going on out there?” Cantrell screamed into the radio.

The video monitor next to the communication console sprang to life. Grillick, looking completely flustered, barked orders to various crewmembers. He turned to face us while he wrestled with a nearby control lever. “As you could probably guess, we are now in the middle of the conflict over Gliese.” Sparks flew over his head and he turned away from us. “SANDOR GET THAT DIRECTIONAL CONTROL VALVE OPERATIONAL!” He commanded before returning his attention to us. “It is imperative that you take off now. The
Gordian Knot
is not designed for direct space combat and I will need to get out of range as quickly as possible.” As more sparks flew, Grillick turned and the screen went blank.

“Well, you heard the man,” Cantrell grumbled. “Time to go!”

I picked myself up off the floor and stumbled into my seat. I locked the seatbelt in place just as the shuttle started accelerating. Before we exited the bay, Cantrell activated the cloaking device. We exploded out of the exit like a bullet from the barrel of a gun. Outside was a scene of pure chaos.

“Oh my God,” I blurted.

Anarchy
. That was the best way to describe the scene above the planet. The Timeless ships were fully engaged with the defending fleet from the Order of the Sun. I spotted a few of the familiar pirate ship vessels of the Scarlet Moon. Cantrell navigated us unheeded between two Order ships and it wasn't until we passed them that I realized I had been holding my breath. Grillick's cloaking device worked perfectly. As we approached the defensive ring surrounding the planet, a large oblong object floated toward us.

From my seated position, I pointed toward the screen. “What's that?”

Cantrell craned his neck forward and studied the screen intently. “The hell if I know,” he grunted. He placed his hand over a track ball embedded in the control panel and zoomed in on the screen. “It's metal,” he remarked. He zoomed in further. “It seems to be a part of a ship.”

As he zoomed in further, we all saw the logo painted on it. There was a charred piece of a flaming comet painted on it, representing the symbol of the Explorer's League. My heart sank; this charred, misshapen piece of scrap metal was all that was left of Captain Muriel's ship.

Cantrell glanced at me sideways. His expression was blank, but I knew he recognized the logo as well. He didn't need to say anything because I already knew the score.
We were running out of allies
.

One of the Order's ships exploded and the impact of the blast rocked our shuttle. Vayne's ship rose from the flaming wreckage of the ship like the mythical Phoenix. His ship rocketed past us and continued firing on a nearby Scarlet Moon vessel.

“Damn, we need to get out of here fast,” Cantrell growled. “It's like a goddamn obstacle course out here!”

He steered us away from the action and we entered the planet's atmosphere just above the Riverlands. The rivers were like veins cutting through the skin of the countryside. We passed over the wall which separated the Riverlands from the Farming Biome. Once we cleared the wall, high-pitched beeps from the navigation panel filled the cabin. Cantrell looked down and flipped a switch, which cut them short.

“We are close,” he turned to us and said. “Get ready.”

The mercenaries moved to check their weapons and made sure their ammo belts were fully loaded. The female mercenary next to me strapped her rifle across her back and leaned in close. “Just so you know, Nathan, I was born with a rifle in my hands,” she growled. “Unlike you, who was probably born with your mommy's teat in yours.”

I ejected the clip in my hand gun, checked to see that it was full, and slammed it closed. I turned to her and frowned. “I'm surprised your mother survived the pain of popping out a rifle,” I mocked and shoved the handgun into its holster.

Cantrell bellowed laughter. “See Bella, I told you he was as prickly as a Grotto Spiner.”

Cantrell landed the shuttle off a rural path leading away from the Farming Biome. I recognized the road immediately as the one which lead to the Bottle and Glass Pub.
It was time to see if Bofor would back up his promise
.

Cantrell shut down the shuttle and turned to us. “Okay people, this is the plan. Our first rendezvous is with the Bottle and Glass Pub, but I don't want you alcoholics thinking this is social hour. You touch a drink and I will shove a rifle so far up your ass that you will need a dentist to take a crap. As soon as we exit this shuttle, I want a two/three formation until we are inside the building, do you understand?”

A chorus of “ayes” rang out from everyone, except me, of course. I didn't know the difference between a two/three formation and the engineering specifications for the Large Hadron Collider. Cantrell stopped talking when he saw the apparent confusion etched on my face.

“I forgot we have a newbie here.” He held up two fingers. “Two/three formation means we line up as two.” He paused and raised a third finger. “Followed by three.” He paused again, dropping one finger. “Followed by two, rinse and repeat.”

“Scanner is clear,” the mercenary closest to the exit stated before donning his helmet. He was a Drith who bore an uncanny resemblance to Shai, which brought bad memories flooding to the surface. Memories of my hands pummeling Shai's decapitated head had been the most prominent among them. I shoved them aside and focused on the task at hand.

“Thanks Sari,” replied Cantrell. “Okay folks the pub is close. I estimate it to be no further than a kilometer. Stay tight, mouths closed, and eyes open.” He pointed at me. “You will be between Sari and Bella in the front three. I will lead with Athew. Behind you three will be Grappa and Mulou followed by Hiro, Phadi, and Shrade.”

The hatch opened and the mercenaries readied their weapons. Since I wasn't sure what role I played, I removed my weapon from its holster and held it by my side. “What do you want me to do?” I asked.

Cantrell stepped out onto the ramp, which I noticed was not really there, thanks to the cloaking device. “Try not to die.”

Cantrell and Athew stepped out and swept the area with their weapons. We were next to step out. As I descended the ramp, I felt the sensation of floating to the ground instead of walking. I looked around and was relieved that no outsiders happened to wander by at that moment. To an innocent bystander, it would have looked as if the air was spitting up mercenaries. I'm sure that alone would have driven anyone to question their sanity.

We stayed off the main road, immersed within the concealment of the nearby tree line. The journey had been relatively uneventful until Bofor's bar emerged in the distance. A loud boom erupted from the sky which froze us in our tracks. It sounded like a nuclear reactor had exploded in space. Several large vessels were rocketing toward orbit from a nearby launching pad.

“Reinforcements,” Cantrell grumbled. “We better make this quick or we won't have a fleet to return to.”

The bar's parking lot was much different than before. Instead of tumbleweeds, the lot was full of vehicles. Most of them were in various states of disrepair while several were rusted shells of their former selves. I knew immediately that these vehicles belonged to the workers, the people who slaved for their Order masters. Images of the luxurious train car we rode during our previous trip to the planet crept into my mind and I found myself disgusted at the social status disparity on the planet. It had been no surprise that they took to a rebellion.