Ways of Power 1: Power Rises (27 page)

"According to my daughter, who can suddenly glimpse the future with the help of the Aq'Umen necklace, power rises out of Gal'Rock's myth and legend. As you already know, she says that you are integral to what must happen next. But, I have doubts." The chief sighed and paced the room, still not looking at either of them.

"It is clear that Gal'Rock's spheres choose who they allow access to their ancient magic. All of my most trusted people have held your staff and worn Wer'Lupa's necklace, but their light won't glow for any of them.

"So, it seems I have no choice but to trust my daughter--and you. Wer'Lupa insists that she can somehow find the rest of the spheres, and that you must go with her to activate them. To make things worse, Wer'Lupa says An'Drazell must also go. I just got my daughters back, and now I must let them go, clearly whether I approve or not."

The chief now turned to face Rancoth and Dorbin, a hard look in his eyes. "Keep them safe. If you don't, not even the blessings of Gal'Rock will protect you."

Epilogue

Rellian couldn't help but think how foolish he was to try and break into the Master's fortress. He just had to show off, damn it. Now look at the mess he'd gotten himself into. He sat on the floor of the furnitureless cell, his fingers curling through his grimy black hair. He kept his sensitive pale blue eyes closed; even though there was no light on, the sterile white cell hurt to look at. How was he going to get out of this?

Suddenly the door slid open; Rellian squinted up at a large and powerfully built man. He had a pale dark complexion, short curled black hair, and milky brown eyes. He was dressed in the dark brown cotton uniform of the fortress militia, with a triple chevron on his collar to denote his rank.

              "The Master wants to see you."

              Oh shit! Rellian never thought he would be brought before the Master himself. This wouldn't turn out well. Damn it, how could he be so stupid?

              The Seargent pulled him to his feet and placed magnetized retraints around his wrists. Rellian didn't resist knowing full well that even if he could outfight the muscular militialman he'd never escape alive. He followed in silence; maybe an opportunity would present itself.

              He was led through a maze of darkent halls and narrow stairwells. He didn't have to worry about any missteps; his eyes were perfectly adapted to the dark. The island that the master had provided for his people was kept in perpetual night, they were no longer adapted for the sun, and its image was lost to their cultural psyche.

              Finally the seargent stopped infront of a door and pushed a small red button.

              "Come," said a male voice through a speaker by the button.

              Sitting at a larg L-shaped desk was a slinder man in navy blue dress pants and a white polo shirt. His light brown hair was cut short and parted on the left. He turned in his chair and looked away from a large monitored computer with a visual interface screen as they entered the room.

              "Here is the man you asked for sir," the Sergeant stated matter-of-factly.

              "Thank you, Johnson, you may go," the master said, eyeing Rellian.

              "Sir? This man is dangerous!" the Sergeant protested, knowing full well that if something happened it would mean more than the loss of his rank and commission.

              "It will be alright, leave the restraints on, and wait outside the door if you must, but I will speak with this man alone."

The master had ruled unequivocally over the land, and had done so for a very, very long time. No one questioned his orders; Rellian knew that the sergeant would do as he was told.

              "Yes sir," the Sergeant barked. He bowed at the head before turning and walking out the still open door which, promptly slid shut behind him.

              "Well, what can I do for you?" Rellian asked.

              "My men say that you're a thief--Is this true?" The man looked him over appraisingly.

              "Thief, spy, assassin--whatever the patron might desire, as long as the money is right." He answered, boldly looking him right in the eye.

              "You're not afraid of me--how interesting." A slight grin split his face. "So who hired you to try and infiltrate my fortress, hmm?"

              Rellian replied with silence.

              "So you know when to keep your mouth shut too. Excellent, you'll do just fine. I am in need of your services. Interested?" His grin turned into a genuine smile.

              "Perhaps, what's the job and what are you willing to pay me for it?" Rellian tried to sound nonchalant.

              "It has come to my attention that one of the ancient spheres of power has been found and more importantly activated. I want it, and you're going to get it for me."

              "Wait, wait, wait. One of the spheres of power? You mean one of those balls that supposedly started the war?" Stark disbelief marked Rellian’s voice. "I thought those were just a myth."

              "I assure you they are quite real. Now, the way I see it you have two options. Either you help me and earn not only your freedom but riches beyond your wildest dreams. Or, your life can be forfeit, a tragic end to a wasted existence."

              "All right, I'll bite. So where is this--sphere?" Rellian could not hide his cynicism.

              "On the other side of the world," the master stated.

              "Among the sun dwellers? Are you fucking kidding me? So--you want me to go somewhere I can't survive, chasing a thing I didn't think existed, among a bunch of backwater technologically infantile barbarians?" Rellian couldn't help but think that the man before him, the one everyone feared, and supposedly owed him their lives was completely insane.

              "I see you understand precisely," he said, leaving his chair and standing in front of his desk. "I'm so glad that you were able to catch on so quickly."

              Rellian shook his head in disbelief. "And just how am I supposed to survive outside the shield? Won't my skin fry and my eyes boil in the harsh light?"

              "That won't be a problem," the man stated. "I'll be right back, with the solution to our little dilemma." He walked past Rellian, the door cleanly sliding open at his approach. "Watch him," he barked to Sergeant Johnson as he passed; who had remained dutifully outside the door.

              After only a few moments he returned, carrying a small syringe in his hand. "You may go again, Johnson," he snapped. He approached Rellian with needle ready. The Sergeant did as he was ordered, eyeing the syringe questioningly as he went.

              "Is that some
magic potion
you've cooked up that will allow me to embrace the sunshine?" Rellian asked offering up his neck for inoculation. The man didn't answer as he slid the thin needle under Rellian's skin and depressed the plunger. "Well?" he asked.

              "No, actually the fluid was nothing more than a saline solution. But, it carried a nanobot that will attach itself to your visual cortex. It will then transmit the images you see back to me so that I can monitor your actions once you leave the shield." He tossed the needle into a waste receptacle by his desk before sitting back down in his chair.

              "But…I thought you said you were getting something to help me survive in the sunlight?"

              "Well you would have hardly allowed me to inject you, if you had known what I was really doing, now would you? Oh yes, and one more thing. If I find that you are not acting in my best interests, the nanobot can be remotely reprogrammed to lobotomize your brain. It will slowly drive you insane, and eventually kill you." His smile was beyond evil.

              Rellian swallowed hard before responding. "I understand. But I still don't see how I'm going to go where you need and survive the trip." A hint of desperation edged its way into Rellian's voice.

"I have sent people out on errands before. It's simple really. You will be equipped with a suit and hood. It will cover every inch of your body, and protect you from the harmful radiation of the sun.

"The hood will also allow you to see while keeping the light level entering your eyes to one you are accustomed to. The microfilament mesh is also self-adjusting, allowing more light in at night; essentially day and night will look the same to you. Finally, a single man submarine vessel will transport you from our island to the continent where the sphere currently is.

              "Fair enough--and I'm supposed to track it down--how exactly?" Rellian asked.

              "With this." The master produced a small pad. Rellian studied the small digital image. It was a map of the entire world. Also there were six small circles above the map; the far left one was a blue light, and the others remained dark. On one of the continents there was a small flashing blue light to match the lit circle above it.

"Son of a bitch," Rellian said. "It’s all real." Rellian looked up at the master. "Now we have just one final problem to overcome."

              The master cocked an eyebrow. "Which is?"

              Rellian simply lifted his hands, offering up the restraints for removal. The master chuckled. "Johnson!" he barked.

The Sergeant scrambled into the room, ready to brutalize anything that may have been threatening the savior of his people. He looked from Rellian to the master and back again, "Sir?" he asked.

              "Remove this man's restraints, get him something decent to eat, and then send him down to the armory. There will be an equipment order waiting for him."

              "Yes sir," the Sergeant replied, with only a slight look of disbelief on his face. He reached into his pocket and removed a remote. He pushed a button and the metal restraints dropped to the floor.

Rellian rubbed his wrists; they were red, and more than a little sore. It wasn't long however before feeling would return to them. After a moment or two, he approached the master, and offered his hand.

The master refused to shake Rellians hand and instead gave him the tracking device, and sat down at his computer to order up the equipment he would need as the Sergeant escorted him from the room.

"Oh, and Rellian."

Rellian stopped at the door and waited in silence.

"I want you to kill whomever you find with the sphere. Do you understand?"

Rellian nodded and followed the Sergeant down the hall.

After eating a fine meal of grilled steak and mashed potatoes, Rellian was escorted to gather his supplies.

The suite was a flat black and fit well. As he donned the hood, Rellian couldn't help but think that he must resemble the specter of Death himself. Finally he was brought to an underground chamber at the center of which sat a large pool of water.

In the middle of the pool, connected by a metal loading dock and stairs, was a small single-man vessel. It was black and sleek; its cockpit was open, the oblong glass bubble standing vertical in the air. Inside, Rellian could see a comfortable looking chair reclining horizontally. It appeared as though he'd be traveling lying down.

              As he climbed into the vessel he looked up and asked, "There is no control panel in here. How am I supposed to steer the ship?"

              The harbor officer answered in a monotone, "It's already been programmed by the Master. You cannot deviate from the course that has been laid in."

              Rellian simply shook his head and strapped himself to the rather cozy chair. It was soft and contoured to his shape. It would be easy to fall asleep in this position, but his mind was racing with the task at hand. As the young harbor officer closed and sealed the lid with a whoosh of air that pressurized the little cockpit, Rellian reached into one of the pockets of his uniform and pulled out the little digital map.

              The sub-marine began to sink; the water bubbled and frothed at its sides, and the engines roared to life. Rellian concentrated on the little flashing blue light, wondering if it would be better to simply steal the sphere and get away without being noticed. 

Rellian realized that the
Master
would never be satisfied with him simply stealing sphere.  He would need to follow his orders and kill the people who carried it, to ensure that there would be no chance of pursuit, or thought of reclamation.

About the Author

R. M. Willis
‘ mother first introduced him to speculative fiction when he was still a small child. His understanding of the world around him grew through the works of J.R.R. Tolkien, Piers Anthony, and Robert Silverberg. At a very young age he knew he wanted to write. His first story was published by his second grade teacher, when he was 7; A rousing tale about how the Easter Bunny stole his carrot. “Power Rises” is his first novel published by Burning Willow Press. He currently resides in Colorado with his wife and 2 children, where he is working on Book two of “The Ways of Power” series – “Power Spreads”.