Centurion's Rise (34 page)

General Galan looked over at Volumnius.  “History is about to be made out there in that blood stained hillside.  Your place is there.”

“And where is your place?” Volumnius asked. 

**********

Coranus and Tomal finally located the bulk of Valnor’s forces and rode up to join him and a dozen of his officers.  As Tomal approached the command group, he observed the way Valnor stood in command of this army.  He was not the snot nosed rookie officer that wet himself in the face of adversity.  The Valnor he saw in front of him now owned the situation with complete and unflinching authority. 

Valnor confidently issued orders to his signal flagmen that resulted in the methodical corralling of Hastelloy’s entire army into a helpless circle.

Tomal would not allow even a trace of celebration to enter his heart as he watched Hastelloy’s forces get torn to shreds.  He knew Hastelloy too well; his missing cavalry were up to something.  Hastelloy was about to spring a trap that would devastate Valnor’s army and carry the day.  He knew it would happen, it was not a question of if, only when.

Then the unthinkable happened.  Utter disbelief washed over Tomal when he saw the great, unbeatable Hastelloy ride out on his horse carrying the white flag of surrender.

“It’s a trick,” Tomal scoffed.

“No, I don’t think so,” Valnor said.  “Look at his commanding general.”

Everyone looked past the man carrying a white flag and watched as the enemy general removed his armor plate, drew his sword, and then drove it into his chest.

“If it is a trick, it’s a convincing one,” General Coranus said to no one in particular.  “That suicide was about preserving honor, not selling some sort of ploy.

“Everyone, come with me,” Valnor ordered and then prompted his mount forward to meet Hastelloy below the white flag he carried.

Tomal obediently followed, and tried to figure out the angle.  Hastelloy didn’t make mistakes, especially one so obvious as ordering his cavalry away
from his foot soldiers.  This surrender didn’t add up and that had Tomal’s stomach twisted into a tight knot.

“I’d like to discuss the organized surrender of my army,” Hastelloy said as Valnor and Tomal approached with the officer corps staying ten feet back.  “The battle’s outcome is a certainty, so there’s no reason for further bloodshed.”

“You’re in no position to dictate terms,” Tomal fired back.  “Any surrender will be unconditional and result in your public humiliation and execution for crimes against the Republic.”

“Don’t you mean for crimes against you,” Hastelloy countered.

“That too,” Tomal added as he spurred his horse to circle round Hastelloy’s rear and continued talking.  “Tell you what.  Since you seem to think everyone in existence should have their lips connected to your backside, I’ll allow your soldiers to leave the field if you get down off that horse, bend over and kiss your own ass for a change.”

“Now that’s a bit unreasonable,” Hastelloy
dismissed.  “Especially coming from a man who’s army no longer exists.”  Hastelloy turned his head from tracking Tomal’s movements to staring straight at Valnor and gestured toward his former subordinate.  “His army carried the day therefore any terms should come from him, not you.”

Valnor moved his lips as though he was about to speak, but Tomal was quicker.  “It was all part of the overall plan.  My army pulled yours out of position so he could
maneuver to your rear and deliver the death blow.  We beat you.  It took both of us, but we beat you.”

Hastelloy let loose a hearty laugh and then looked straight up.  “So having all 20,000 of your men burn to death in a fire while my army took zero casualties was part of your grand strategy?  Tell me, what color is the sky in your world because in this reality it’s a brilliant blue?  He carried the day despite your involvement, not because of it.”

“Whatever,” Tomal responded and then came around Hastelloy’s left side with a fiery glare.  He then changed the language of the conversation to their native tongue. 
“You lost.  Now why don’t you show all these soldiers of yours and mine what a noble man you are by taking your own life.  I’m told it’s the honorable thing for the losing commander of a battle to do, just ask that dead general behind you.
”

“
That is their custom, not ours,”
Hastelloy countered. 
“I will not dishonor the noble life I live by ending it prematurely.”

“Why not?”
Tomal asked with a knowing smirk. 
“You forfeit all honor and nobility your life force carried the moment you blew your own head off back on the island when we first landed on this rock.”

Hastelloy’s dignified posture crumbled with the reminder of the actions he took to end the existence of his Novan body to regenerate in a human form through the Nexus.  It was for the greater good, but the dishonor would forever be his to bear.

Tomal observed with great satisfaction that his verbal barrage firmly hit its mark.  He continued while looking over at Valnor. 
“Perhaps the Captain thinks we should feel privileged to be in his presence.  After all, he is the first Novan in over 10,000 years to commit suicide.”

“You know as well as I how necessary my actions were . . .”
Hastelloy began, but was immediately cut off.

“Silence,”
Tomal shouted as he wrenched the spear carrying the white flag from Hastelloy’s hands leaving him momentarily hunched forward in his saddle.  Tomal gripped the spear with both hands and delivered an upward swing to Hastelloy’s chin with the end holding the white flag.

Hastelloy’s upper body snapped backwards sending him tumbling head over heels from his horse.  Tomal wasted no time dismounting his own
steed.  He tossed the spear aside then rushed over to grab Hastelloy by the throat as he lay on his back.

“Here’s a news flash, Captain,”
Tomal growled with his nose an inch from Hastelloy’s. 
“Since that day, your very existence has offended me.  The perpetrator of a suicide has no business giving anyone orders, least of all me.” 

Tomal spat o
n Hastelloy’s cheek to accentuate his feelings and then released the death grip he held on his wind pipe.

Hastelloy coughed and gasped for air as he rubbed his hands across his neck.  Finally he struggled to his feet and staggered in Tomal’s direction. 
“Come on you coward, finish what you started.  Have your revenge and be done with it.  When I regenerate we’ll start with a clean slate.”

“Oh no,”
Tomal answered as he spun around. 
“Publicly torturing and humiliating you will be far more satisfying.  Plus it’s my ticket back into the riches of public office.  I . . .”

Tomal’s rant was cut short when he heard the soft fluttering of fabric flapping in the wind rush past his right ear.  An instant later his eyes saw
the white flag tipped spear strike Hastelloy square in the chest.  The blow knocked Hastelloy off his feet and sent his body flying backwards several feet.

Tomal turned with uncon
trolled rage to see who dared throw the spear.  His eyes followed the trajectory back to an extended arm.  The blood in his veins nearly boiled over when he realized the owner of that outstretched arm was Valnor.  Without a word, the young man strutted past Tomal and stood over Hastelloy’s dying body. 

“Behold,” Valnor shouted for the entire battlefield to hear.  “The murder of Gaius Julius Caesar, my father, has been avenged by my hand.”

Valnor looked up to address Hastelloy’s soldiers.  “My grievance was with this man, not you.  We are all Romans.  What’s more, we are all soldiers of Rome.  Let that brotherhood bind us together once more.  I, Gaius Octavian Caesar declare this civil war now at an end.”

An uneasy silence hung over the battlefield for several long minutes until the faint clatter of a few shields and swords hitting the ground rang out.  Soon the random clanking and banging crescendoed and then receded to silence once more as Hastelloy’s men laid down their arms.

Satisfied every soldier on the field was now his to command, Valnor got down on one knee and leaned over Hastelloy’s body.  Tomal moved closer to hear the final words exchanged between the two.

“You were right, Captain, they never saw the queen sacrifice coming,” Valnor said softly.
  “You were our most valuable piece, but your loss has paved the way to victory.

“Glad
to be of service,” Hastelloy croaked and then smiled at seeing the lesson well learned by his protégé.  He then grimaced and fought to contain a painful gasp his body desperately wanted to let out.  Without another word spoken between them, Valnor drew a dagger from the sleeve of his uniform and severed Hastelloy’s carotid artery; ending his suffering.

After a few moments of quiet self reflection, Valnor got back to his feet and marched over to face the murderous stare Tomal leveled at him.  The two stood nose to nose for several silent heartbeats, a
bsorbing the mutual hatred electrifying the air between them.

“How dare you rob me of that moment,” Tomal finally whispered through gritted teeth.  “The moment that would have restored my standing back in Rome.”

Valnor cracked a sideways grin along with a soft chuckle.  “You’re so predictable.  A swift swing of your sword would have made you the slayer of a traitor in the eyes of every Roman.  But you just couldn’t resist the urge to brag and lord the victory over him.  Now the distinction belongs to me, as does everything else.

“I have Caesar’s namesake, his wealth, his loyal soldiers, and now the love of the people,” Valnor continued.  “You, on the other hand are now without coin, an army or allies.”

“All that I’ve lost, I will acquire again,” Tomal countered.

“Of that I have no doubt,” Valnor answered back.  “Your treacherous nature combined with the influence that Alpha relic holds over you make
you a dangerous man, far too dangerous to keep around.”

“
Jupiter has nothing to do with the Alpha.  Those animals are gone, defeated by me two thousand years ago.  God favored me back then and he continues to do so even now.”

“Until you come out from under their spell you are a danger to our mission.  Y
ou’re no longer welcome in Rome, I hereby banish you from the Republic,” Valnor declared.

“
You have no justification or right to do this,” Tomal growled back.

Valnor brought  the bloody tip of his dagger to eye level between them.  “If this dagger were in your hands right now, what would you do with it?”

Tomal could have opened his mouth and attempt to spin any number of lies professing his noble intentions, but he knew his eyes would betray the truth.  He would stab Valnor through the heart and claim Rome for himself and the divine spirit who guided his actions.

“Exactly,” Valnor concluded.  Then he raised his voice for all nearby to bear witness.  “Mark Antony is hereby banished from the Roman Republic, never to return.  Now be gone.”

Tomal said nothing, content to let the glow of anger and promise of revenge oozing from the corners of his mocking smile do all the talking as he slowly backed away and mounted his horse.  He never looked back, even when a triumphant roar of victory came from Valnor’s army.  Things looked bad at the moment, but he was still alive and in the game. 

Tomal once mocked Valnor for clinging to the name Caesar as a valuable asset, but he now saw the error he made underestimating that asset.  That name was everything, citizens and soldiers alike were drawn to it and to regain his station, Tomal needed to strip Valnor of that invaluable name. 

How? Caesar legally adopted him.  Tomal personally read the words aloud for all of Rome to hear.  At that moment it occurred to him that another young man had a claim on Caesar’s namesake, a stronger claim even.  Valnor’s was through adoption, but the son born of the Egyptian Queen, Cleopatra, and Caesar carried a direct bloodline to the name.

“I think it’s time I tested my sea legs.” Tomal said softly on his way off the battlefield and eventually Roman soil.

Upon seeing the
murder of the NSA agent, Professor Russell felt his stomach turn inside out. A tidal wave of bile and stomach acid rushed up his esophagus and soiled the floor in front of him.  He’d never seen a person killed before.  The movies made it seem like stepping on ants, but it was the most terrifying, and disgusting moment of the professor’s life, and he unearthed mummies for a living.

He looked to his left and found Alex similarly hunched over a puddle of vomit.  Frank was another matter.  This was obviously not the first execution he’d ever witnessed.  The man silently stared at the body of his partner with a hole in its forehead.  His vibrating eyes carried an odd mixture of fear and anger.

“Have you lost your mind!” Frank shouted with emphasis placed on each word.  “You go to such lengths to get him here and then you just blow his head off?”

“Eye for an eye,” Alfred said as he dropped
the gun wielding hand to his side and faced the captivity cage.  “My wife’s killer is dead by my hand, honor is satisfied.”

“You were
n’t even alive in 1989 you whack job,” Frank insisted and then looked about the chamber at a total loss.   “What now?” 

“Now we prove to one and all that I’m not insane,” Alfred responded quietly.  He then returned his weapon to the storage locker, and took a seat near the glass coffin attached to the Nexus device.

**********

As soon as it came upon him, it was ripped away again.  The darkness of nothing was replaced by a blinding light.  Mark moved to cover his eyes wi
th his hands, but the appendage smacked into a wall of glass hovering mere inches above him.  Mark’s eyes eventually adjusted to the lighting and he was able to make out a frighteningly familiar face staring down at him through the glass barrier.

Mark saw the man’s lips move but heard nothing.  A moment later a loud click followed by a rush of arctic cold air enveloped his body like he just jumped naked into a pool of ice water.  It ignited a maelstrom of sensations.  His sense of sight, taste, smell
, touch and hearing all came alive at once and sent his body instinctively into the fetal position with his eyes slammed shut and his hands placed firmly over his ears.

Two sets of hands, that felt like they were drenched in flames
against his skin, grabbed Mark by the arms and lifted him to his feet and placed him on the cold metal floor.  “There you go now, the worst is over,” Mark heard. 

He opened his eyes to find the smiling face of Alfred Kranz looking back at him.  “I remember my first time emerging from the Nexus.  I didn’t know which way was up or down for hours.  Fortunately it gets easier the more times you go through
it.  Now it’s no worse than getting out of a warm bathtub.”

“Where . . . what . . . how . . . who . . . where,” Mark stammered.

Alfred wrapped two hands around Mark’s head and forced it to look in a particular direction.  “See for yourself.”

Mark’s eyes quickly adjusted to the sight of a body lying on the ground with a hole in its
forehead.  It wasn’t just any body, it was his body.  It was like looking at an exquisitely crafted wax replica of him just lying on the ground.  Mark stepped forward and was pleased to see his motor skills were functional enough to let him stagger over until he hovered above his own form. 

There wasn’t a drop of blood on the ground, and a closer inspection of the head wound revealed the edges were cauterized to prevent any loss of blood.  Mark then became acutely aware of a hollow set of eyes staring up at him.  He ran his hand down across the body’s face to close those eyes, or were they his eyes still?  The paradox confounded him so he turned to the one person who might have answers, the only problem was that man was also his executioner.  The paradox continued.
             

Sensing the pending question, Alfred jumped the gun.  “The Nexus is real.  If you have any doubts, just look at the vessel that housed your prior life again.”

“My god it is real.  Who am I now?” Mark asked.

“Yourself – unfortunately
.”

“What happens now?”  Mark pondered as he turned around to face Alfred once more.  “You continue to kill and revive me until the need for revenge subsides?”

Alfred casually walked over to a row of storage lockers along the left wall, opened the fourth door from the left, and retrieved a set of khaki cargo pants and shirt.  He carelessly tossed the garments at Mark’s chest with his left hand while the right retrieved one of several hand guns stored on the top shelf.  “Now you get dressed, sit down, shut up and listen,” Alfred ordered as he once again pointed the weapon in Mark’s direction.

Mark took his time getting dressed.  While doing so he turned his head and met the astonished eyes of his partner Frank, still behind bars.  They both knew for many years they were dealing with alien technology, but neither was prepared for this.  What were the implications?  How could they fight an enemy who could never die unless their Nexus device was destroyed?

“I see the wheels churning in your head,” Alfred cautioned while Mark finally took his seat in the vacant interrogation chair sitting next to the lifeless body on the floor.  “If you try to destroy the Nexus, we will destroy this planet.”

“Let me guess, you placed a bomb at the Earth’s core and will light the fuse if we don’t do your bidding.  Did I get the B grade Sci-Fi movie dialogue about right? ” Mark taunted.

“Do you have any idea how much rock is between the Earth’s surface and core?” Alfred responded with a chuckle.  “I prefer to treat rock as the weapon rather than an obstacle.”

Mark watche
d as Alfred settled into a workstation with two visual displays.  One showed a profile view of the great pyramid and the four hidden chambers he observed earlier with the sonic density readings.  Along the side were four bar indicators showing some sort of charge building up from equipment housed in each of the chambers.  The other screen displayed the moon following a dotted line path around the earth. 

While Alfred worked a keyboard built into the work station
’s surface, his partner situated the display screen resting atop a chair so all the captives could once again view the image.  The man touched a few buttons on back of the device and the monitor display divided into six screens, each showing a news broadcast from separate regions of the world.   The nationality of each news broadcast was evident from the anchor’s appearance: North and South America, Europe, Central Asia, Asia Pacific, and Australia.

Alfred spun away from his workstation and snapped his fingers three times to draw everyone’s attention away from the news broadcasts.  “I need
you to pay attention now class.  The gravity of this situation is of paramount importance. ”  

He rest
ed his hand on the display showing the pyramid schematic.  In his most professorial voice Alfred continued, “The Great Pyramid of Khufu is basically a monument to the earth and sun’s gravitational relationship.  Equipment housed inside the four chambers of the pyramid allow us to harness that immense power and redirect it however we see fit.  For instance, I think that hunk of rock orbiting this planet should be a little bigger in the night sky so I’m going to bring it in closer.”

On Alfred’s right hand display Mark saw a red line diverge from the moon’s current orbital path that brought the celestial body closer to earth.  Despite the impressive display of technology he’d witnessed so far, Mark couldn’t shake the feeling this was all for show.  Any decent programmer could model the moon’s orbit and draw a diverging line on screen.  That didn’t mean it was actually happening.

It didn’t take long before update banners began flashing across the news broadcasts.  One by one they fell like dominoes until all six screens prominently featured updates of earthquakes, flash flooding, and sudden volcanic activity. 

“Amazing isn’t it,” Alfred pondered to no one in particular as he returned the moon to its standard orbital path.  “You think of the moon as subservient to the earth, yet Luna holds unimaginable influence over its master.  Her elliptical orbit pushes and pulls the entire ocean mass to create high and low tide twice a day.  Tectonic plates are also affected by the moon’s proximity.”

Mark wanted to believe it was all a hoax, but the hidden chambers, the tunnel, the technology all around him?  Not to mention the six news broadcasts which clearly showed today’s date and featured well known anchors.  This was the real deal and it frightened him to his core. 

“Why are you doing all of this?” Mark managed.  “What is your end goal?”

“The greater good,” Alfred answered.

“What greater good is served by threatening the existence of every living organism on this planet?” Mark challenged.

“Ours,” came a curt reply. “The Cold War between the United States and Soviet Union never came to blows because both sides knew any act of aggression would result in mutual annihilation.  That is what we have here.  The technology exists to detect this chamber now, and a few well placed bunker buster bombs would destroy the Nexus.  Our ability to bring the moon crashing down on top of this planet keeps the threat of our destruction at bay.”

“Why would I destroy this Nexus device,” Mark asked, feigning innocence.  “It apparently grants me immortality.”

“That was a onetime demonstration I am afraid,” Dr. Andre responded.

“Pity, it would come in handy with my line of work,” Mark sighed and then took the conversation in a different direction.   “So you can destroy us an
d we can destroy you.  Now what? We hold a staring contest until your probe and its message reach your people and they show up in force?”

“The Alpha conquer, not us.  For thousands of years we have protected this planet from conquest and continue to do so,” came Alfred’s emphatic response.

“Who are the Alpha?” Mark asked.  “Are they the seven foot dog like creatures I examined from the Roswell crash?”

Alfred deferred to his companion to provide an explanation.  “Yes, that is an accurate physical description of their species.  Simply put, they are the bad guys.”

“And that of course makes you the good guys,” Mark bellowed back with a mocking grin.  “Why should we believe you don’t mean our planet harm?”

Alfred
looked to the side in disbelief.  “I could rattle off an endless list of good deeds we’ve collectively performed through the ages, but I doubt that would sway you.  You need to go talk with your brother.  He can fill you in on the back story since he and Captain Hastelloy are well acquainted and on friendly terms - for the moment.”

Mark took the not so subtle threat on his brother’s life to heart.  “So I need to talk to your boss who is holding my brother hostage.  Did I receive the right message there?”

Alfred tilted his head back and let loose a hearty laugh and followed it by adding, “It’s not the best way to start a trusting relationship, but it’s where we find ourselves.”

The instant his captor’s eyes looked toward the ceiling Mark was on the move.  His hand reached down toward the dead body laying prone on the
floor to his left.  He shoved his hand under the armored vest and retrieved a cylinder the size of his fist and pulled the pin.

The instant the flashbang grenade left h
is hand Mark mashed his eyes shut, buried his face between his knees and plunged his index fingers into his ear canals.  An instant later the world erupted around him with disorienting chaos.