Eye of Ra (15 page)

“Noted. The mode that you are currently in is called sentry,” the familiar informed him, “meant for exploration, reconnaissance missions, and light combat. You have two additional configurations, sentinel mode which is designated for full combat, military campaigns, and high altitude aerial combat. And Celestial …”

“Whoa, hold up,” he cut the familiar off. “I can fly in this thing?”

“Correct,” it answered. “It is capable of low altitude cruising, high altitude flight, and if necessary intergalactic travel.”

A dumbfounded look was plastered all over Laurence’s face.

“I …I can fly …in space?”

“If necessary yes,” it confirmed. “The armor is capable of achieving light speed levels of flight while creating micro dimensional portals within the armor to maintain sustainable oxygen levels until the wearer reaches their destination. This is achieved when the armor goes into Celestial mode which I was in the middle of explaining until you interrupted me.”

“Well, excuse me,” he snorted throwing up his hands. “Look at you poppin off and what not.”

“Apologies, it was not my intention to offend,” the familiar lowered its head in servitude.

“Naw it’s cool,” he smirked. “Makes you come off more alive than mechanical. So what is this Celestial mode about?”

“Celestial mode allows the wearer full access to the Awakening energy within the armor, bolstering its capabilities to near infinite levels. It is reserved for dire situations and intergalactic travel.”

“Awakening energy?” Laurence furrowed his brow, having heard the familiar use the term before.

“It has many names across the universe,” it explained. “Scientists and researchers on your planet however know it as the “Big Bang.”

“Wait …hold up,” Laurence held up a hand.

He remembered where he had heard those words spoken many times by his father and twelfth grade science teacher Mr. Padula.

“You mean the energy that gave birth to the universe itself?”

“Correct,” confirmed the familiar. “The Annunaki are one of the few races in the universe that have developed technology capable of harnessing this energy. Awakening energy is not only the most powerful energy source in the universe, it is self-sustaining. Celestial mode is a last resort due to its destructive capabilities on a continental level. Similar to my current model, it has to tether to an added power source to produce a more destructive output. That is why your armor is genetically coded to serve only one wearer.”

“Near world ending power …got it,” he nervously nodded, “so if the Annunaki can open portals and use armor to travel to other worlds, what’s the need for a ship?”

“Dimensional jumps within the atmosphere of a planet, especially a planet within the Dominion Council are equivalent to a person walking into someone else’s house without invitation,” it answered. “It is considered rude.”

“So can I take this thing for this spin?’ He frowned. “Or is it forbidden based on your
protocols
?”

“Aside from maintaining minimum contact with the human populace while in the armor, there are no other protocols forbidding you from using the armor.”

“So you’re saying I can take it out,” he grinned. “Like …right now.”

“If you desire,” it answered.

“So where do you connect?” He asked.

“I can connect to a housing on the back of your armor, or you can just carry me.”

“I can carry you now?” He came off with sardonic surprise.

“Of course, all you need to do is take hold of me.”

As he reached down and grasped the familiar, its body stiffened and thinned out as if converting to its scepter mode. His eyes widened as it continued to transform, extending to a full seven-foot staff. Its hood split apart in the back allowing two halves of a golden and red crystal sundial disk to emerge and form one piece. Golden spikes protruded from the sundial, emulating the rays of the sun as the hood reformed into a circle once again.

Its tail went flat and widened as the familiar moved and shifted its multiple plates into the shape of an intricate crescent moon pendulum blade.

“Wow …you really are a staff,” he grinned while looking it over in his hand.

Its eyes blazed as it opened up a dimensional portal. Laurence this time stepped into it with both confidence and eagerness. His world had gone from zero to high powered alien armor that could grant him flight. He was about to get a high greater than anything he had ever injected into his body.

Living again … in stereo.

He couldn’t wait for his first fix.

˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜

Seconds later, Laurence stepped out of the portal, shielding his eyes against the beaming sun overhead. It didn’t help that his newly acquired armor glimmered as it reflected the light pounding it. He did a slow circular scan of his environment to see that there was nothing for miles except for sand and blistering heat.

“This is a desert; you walked us into the middle of a desert.”

“The Sahara Desert,” it informed him, “a suitable location to give proper instruction in flight and maneuvering with minimum human contact.”

“There’s no human contact!” He yelled at it. “Ain’t nothing but sand and pizza oven heat out here!”

“We can go to the Arctic if you desire.”

“Oh …hell no,” he shook his head. “Right here is just fine.”

He glanced around once more. Despite his earlier complaining, he was glad no one was around. He could not image having to explain to anyone his current attire and what he was doing out there.

“So what do I do?” Laurence looked at the familiar transformed staff in his hand. “Twirl you around and throw you, then hang on for the ride?”

“Why do you believe that would be a requirement?” It asked.

“Naw …uh … nothing …forget it,” his eyes shifted with embarrassment. “Let’s just start.”

“First I would advise for you to store me within the rear shoulder housing. You will need full concentration and use of your body.”

It shrank and retracted into its scepter mode.

Feeling a section open up on the back of his armor near his shoulder, he went to place the familiar there. A powerful magnetic force pulled it from his grip locking it into place. 

“Now that your armor has been synchronized to you, it will obey your instructions via verbal or neural commands,” it began its instruction.

“So if I think it, it will do it.”

“Correct,” it confirmed. “It will move naturally with your regular movements. Other functions such as operating the helm, flight and manipulating Awakening energy require mental visualization or verbal command. However, verbal commands slow down your armor’s response time by human milliseconds. Also, if you are not literal with your commands, your armor may not respond effectively. These factors can be detrimental during combat, which is why it is imperative to master the use of neural commands.” 

“Learn to think it, not to speak it,” he nodded.

He closed his eyes and imagined himself taking off into the skies, soaring and twirling at great speeds.

It was not working.

“Based on your demeanor I can tell you are imagining flight,” confirmed the familiar. “Not communicating with your armor and instructing it what to do.”

“I’m trying yo!” He grumbled with frustration. “Maybe it doesn’t understand me!”

“Communication is not an issue after synchronization. It will obey you no matter what language you speak in whether mentally or verbally.”

“Oh yeah,” he snarled. “Hubkiisiina! Waxaan kugu amrayaa inuu u duulo!”

Upon the verbal command of his mother’s language taught to him by his father, his faceplate came down locking into place. On the inside of the helm a holographic visual of the outside world, navigational compass, and other digital readings he could not make out appeared before his eyes, almost blinding him. The crystalline parts of his armor began to glow as the Awakening energy came alive. Before he could prepare himself, Laurence awkwardly left a mini sand storm behind him as he rocketed off, going airborne at immeasurable speeds.

“Oh! Aw shit! Oh!” he screamed.

What he thought would be a euphoric experience became a terrifying nightmare as he screamed his lungs out at the sheer force of being catapulted by cosmic propulsion. He wanted to throttle every single comic book creator who perverted his mind with the thought that what he was doing would be cool. A sonic boom erupted from his body as he proceeded to soar higher, tearing through clouds, headed toward the upper levels of the Earth’s atmosphere.

“I’m just going straight up yo!” He yelled. “What the hell do I do?”

“Navigation during flight mode is achieved by sight direction, slight movement, and muscle control,” answered the familiar projecting through his helm.

Fighting through the fear, he forced himself to move his head and then his body downward, leveling out. It brought him down to the standard altitude of human aircraft; however, it did not slow down his speed.

“This is too fast! How do I slow down?”

“Your current position indicates to your armor that you wish to go faster,” identified the familiar. “I suggest relaxing and taking a position that is a comfortable cruise mode for you.”

“What the hell is that?” He barked.

“Only you can determine that.” It answered back.

He muttered a curse, then remembered that he was in this predicament because he wanted to take the armor out for a ride. He was going to take responsibility and get out of a jam by himself. He swallowed and focused to find a solution like his father had taught him. The first thing he realized was that his current form made him look like a bullet. He remembered his father taking him down to the Jersey International Air Display one summer for his fourteenth birthday. There he saw a Grumman F-14 Tomcat for the first time. His father explained to him the sweep-wing technology that allowed it to either cruise or go faster.

Taking a breath within his helm, he first loosened his fingers. He then forced his muscles to relax as he slowly extended his arms from his body to catch a wind draft. As he did this, his armor reduced speed.

  With another breath, he extended his arms a bit further, and found a speed he could control. Realizing what he had accomplished by himself gave birth to a quivering chuckle.

He was flying.

“Detecting a human aircraft in the vicinity,” indicated the familiar interrupting his little celebration.

“Where?”

It didn’t even have to tell him; he could feel its presence to his left. A Boeing 737 Classic had invaded his airspace; or more accurately, he had invaded its airspace.

“Oh damn …this can’t be good,” he swallowed.

“As it currently violates the minimum contact protocol,” reminded the familiar. “No it is not good.”

Seeing that some of the windows to the plane were up, he did not bother to find out if someone was not glued to their window with their jaw in their lap at the unbelievable phenomenon he was performing. With a slight turn while moving his arms closer to his body again, he strafed away picking up speed.

He howled as he dived and barrel rolled through his new playground. His new thought was to find and hug every single comic book creator who had perverted his mind about superhuman flight being cool.

Because it was cool.

So cool, he angled himself upwards attempting to reenact the most famous superhuman flight ever performed on celluloid screen.

“May I ask what you are attempting to do?” His familiar inquired over his helm.

“What’s it look like?” He grinned. “I’m about to be the first brutha to go to space without a ship!”

He reassumed the dart position, unleashing a massive surge of Awakening power to rocket him up into the stratosphere. A huge grin once again appeared on his face as the sky began to fade, and he began to see stars.

It disappeared as his speed began to reduce, while feeling that he was no longer in control of his armor.

“What …what’s happening?” He nervously yelled.

“Protocol has been broken.”

“What? No!” He screamed.

“The amount of Awakening energy you unnecessarily unleashed to obtain orbital flight was equivalent to one of your planets miniature nuclear devices. Every device on your planet capable of detecting that amount of energy has been activated and will hone in on our location. I must ensure that we stay within protocol.”

“You suck!” He angrily spat. “Do not take me back to the ship! I don’t want to go back yet! Do not take me back there!”

“As you wish,” it obeyed.

Still in control, the familiar opened up a portal for them to pass through. He found himself streaking across the inner fabric of the universe, which blew his mind again. It lasted a couple of seconds as his eyes once again viewed blue skies and foliage. He sighed with disappointment as the familiar guided his armor to a landing in what seemed to be a forest or jungle.

“Per your instruction I have not returned us to the ship,” confirmed the familiar. “However we must remain grounded as I detect your planet’s devices attempting to pinpoint the origin of the massive energy surge caused by your armor.”