Lives of Future-Past (The Chronicles of Max Gunnarsson Book 1) (17 page)

Huh? Is that it
?” when Draagh walked around his conjured hologram.
     “Draagh, what are those particles? Are they magical particles? They seem to be everywhere,” asked Jennie.
     The ancient wizard nodded and said, “Yes, my dear. That would be partially correct. You see, in order to understand the technical mechanics of magic, one must see a magical particle itself, and as magic exists on worlds that have relatively no technology, which in itself is a patently false statement, these worlds have no magnification due to the fact that they have not advanced to that level of technical expertise, even though they have it, in a magical sense.”
     Max and Jennie simply stared at Draagh, trying to understand, as he contradicted himself while talking in circles. Before either could ask any further questions, he swung his arm at the hologram, wiping the previously played vid out of existence.
     “My children, technology is magic, and magic is technology, but simply on a scale not understandable by anyone from you world, or from this one. As you both come from future-past, I am relatively certain that you will absorb this quite well. Yes, quite well I am certain.”
     With that, he again swept his hand around and conjured up a mass of planets, moons and suns, all rotating in a galaxy-like system. As the animation played, he cleared his throat and continued. 
     “My kind has been in existence for eons, our creator being timeless. He has always been and shall always be – the Alpha and the Omega, if I remember my ancient Greek correctly. Mankind, in his short existence, has always assigned vague mysticisms to the unknown. Sometimes for the good, such as the existence of what they call
God
, to whom we refer to as
Jah
, and sometimes for the bad, such as innocent women burned at the stake or drowned, having been accused of being witches when magic didn’t even exist in their era! Sad, quite sad, indeed. Mankind reacts with fear to that for which he has no knowledge. Galileo was brought before the Catholic Inquisition’s Tribunal after he had correctly surmised that the sun is the center of Earth’s solar system, and not Earth, as was stated in the bible – the Church’s belief actually being derived from a single sentence that was written by a man with the hygienic habits of a chicken. In any case, it is not only mankind, but also other species throughout the ages. Man fears what he does not know, and it is for this reason that most people do not know the true nature of magic. We leave it be, we allow them to harness its wonders - to heal and defend, to protect and attack, and to create light in order to challenge the darkness.”
     He then walked through the center of his animation, causing it to slightly disrupt, with it continuing properly after millions of wafting particles realigned themselves into the imagery.
     “My children, the reality of it all is that magic is simply… this.”
     Draagh flicked a finger at the middle of the room, causing the animated galaxy to morph into an ominous-looking rotating object, spherically-shaped, with numerous appendages ending in serrated claws, knives, and apparent sensors for optical, auditory and other readouts. It resembled a rolling ball of death; able to destroy anything that would be unfortunate enough to get in its way.
     The object moved around, parts of its massive body spinning like a gyroscope, and then suddenly became smaller, which in reality was the hologram zooming out. Suddenly, it was joined by dozens, then hundreds, then thousands, and then millions of machines like itself, the machines becoming smaller and smaller as the view decreased in magnification. This kept going on and on, until there was only a beautiful magenta-colored ribbon of particles surrounding a chair, levitating it in the air.
     As the view backed off even further, a minor-mage, human in appearance, was rotating his hand and affecting the movement of the chair by skillfully manipulating the ribbon of particles around it. He then thrust out his hand, clenched his fist and pulled it back while twisting his arm, causing the chair to madly spin about, rotating on all axes. Finishing the demonstration by quickly reciting the following cantus –
ignincatatio perdere
- he caused the chair to suddenly ignite, and the trio watched, as it burned to ashes in a matter of seconds.
      “Holy crap!” said Max. “They’re nanobots. Magic is nanobot technology...” 

     Being an experienced and educated military officer, Jennie Escalante understood the concept of nanotechnology, as it had permeated science and industry on Azul. Nanotechnology was used in medicine, in industry, to repair broken arteries and to weld conduit seams in underwater pressures unapproachable by man - but now, this whole new revelation that magic, which was a new concept to her in the first place, was also an extremely advanced (and old) form of technology made her head spin.
     Draagh looked at the two with mild interest, waiting for one of them to say something, and was met with silence until Max stepped to the side and looked at them both, saying, “I can do this. Jennie, we’re going to save Azul. We have the power.”
     Jennie looked at him, and said in a low, monotone voice, “Gunnarsson, do you realize how dorky that sounds?”
     The two pupils started to play with basic spells, and as they understood the nature of magic they felt more confident in harnessing its abilities. It was just a collective of subatomic-sized machines, which in mass quantities could lift, burn or freeze things, cause lethal doses of radiation, or even repair a ruptured spleen. These were not miracles, as miracles were made of things not understood by man. Even though they basically understood nanotechnology, they were also mind-blown by the complexity. No doctor on Azul had a telepathic interface with any of his medical nanobots, yet Draagh could easily melt someone’s head with a mere thought (with Jennie frequently asking Draagh for a demonstration of that particular skill). They trained daily for the following week, learning as much as they possibly could, spending time together in the evenings, going over manuscripts and testing new spells. Jennie graduated from the simple wand, to using a spiked, metal gauntlet, which without magical abilities would have been a formidable weapon in its own right, but with magic infused into it the device became a power-punching mitten of instantaneous death. Max moved onto more advanced cantuses, combing them into compound spells that performed various functions, such as creating impenetrable force fields, changing visible light to ultraviolet, or cooking someone right where he stood with unimaginable radiation levels. Jennie’s favorite new spell that Max had mastered was one that made an enemy’s head explode. Her sense of humor was a bit gruesome, but Max took it all in stride, glad to have the beautiful woman as an ally, and not an enemy, as she was when they had first met.
     Every other day, they would spend half of the training hours on the battle pitch, as they needed to constantly hone their new skills in conjunction with their lycan capabilities, with the other half being dedicated to magical practice and learning. One day, after having completed a particularly difficult obstacle course, which included flaming arrows being shot at them while they navigated through barbed wire, they sat off to the side and chatted a bit.
      “Gunnarsson, do you think that swords will be of any use to us on Azul? I mean, I don’t think we can fly, and charged weapons would give us greater range, wouldn’t they?” asked Jennie. 
     Max thought for a moment, and then said, “You know, with gravicantuses and movericantuses I am sure we can get in close, and then quickly back out. After all, I plan on keeping you pretty darned close when we’re fighting the enemy.”
     Jennie gave him a grin and said, “Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’ll want to keep me around -who else is gonna save your ass?”
     They both chuckled lightly, and then went back to the obstacle course, where three newly turned lycans were trying desperately to catch up with their otherworldly counterparts. Jennie watched as Max stopped what he was doing, went over to help one of the newbies and gave him some kind and methodical instructions, for which the youth, who was a local boy and fortunate enough to have been selected, showed great appreciation.
     
Aw, Gunnarsson
, she thought to herself,
you would have been a great big brother
.
    
     The next morning they learned that the magical
nanobots
, as Max and Jennie called them, were semi-organic and self-replicating. They also were tuned to certain frequencies, and that was how Earth magic had been reactivated – by changing the frequency of every single one of the bots on the planet – the planet’s
energy
, as their teacher had earlier called it. 
     Draagh told them that the process only took days to complete, as each nanobot was connected to the other, facilitating a global network. His people then had to construct some particularly complex equipment, enabling Socrates access to the world - something akin to a frequency translator. This made access to Socrates a bit slower than usual, but still enabled mages to engage the intelligence network in near real-time.
Another thing they learned about the bots is that not all were the same. Most were of a standard, workhorse variety, able to perform a myriad of functions, but those that enabled, for example, teleportation or advanced wavelength attacks, were of different builds, and not as plentiful, thereby resulting in a more time-consuming effort to cantus spells of these types. This is precisely why Draagh used his staff for 4D time slips – the amount of data being sent to the limited number of bots was immeasurable (he also frequently used his staff for 3D porting, but this was not really necessary. He once said it just looked
cool
). Another thing about the bots was that some existed in the atmosphere, but others existed inside living things, one such type being the salubots, which monitored health and assisted in healing. Lycans and vampires had very different salubots in their systems, with those of the lycans being strong and superior, while the vampire variety barely kept them alive at the expense of rapid healing, hence, their constantly rotting flesh.
     Furthering their lessons, Draagh had introduced Max to the basic concepts of his staff. Max asked when he would get one, and with a grin, Draagh merely responded, “When you are as old as dirt, my boy.”
     Jennie was learning to do simultaneous cantuses, such as wearing the gauntlet on her left hand and punching something, while shooting flames at it with her wand. She also learned some shortcuts, which pleased Draagh, as he had a tendency to try and shorten phrases, and thought she was quite brilliant for attempting to do so with her cantuses. Not all worked. In fact, a couple backfired, as could be attested by the housekeepers who were required to clean the animal guts and tar off the walls in the main hall. She also tied her wand to her katana, with some admirable results, such as when she once pointed her sword at a large melon on a table in the dining area, levitated it to her position, sliced it into pieces in the air, and then set each piece back down onto individual plates in front of lycan soldiers. She actually received three marriage proposals for that feat of skill. Max was impressed with the feat, but not the proposals.
     Joining with his two students, Draagh explained that as they would one day leave the world of the Rhönen Dominion, they would need to enhance their training and solidify their skills with some fieldwork. This excited Jennie, who had been itching to get out of the castle. Max was not really for it or against it, completely confident in what he had learned, but did agree that it could be beneficial to them all.
     They were to go on a recon mission with some of Krynos’ finest warriors, to see if Vladros had more of his agents hanging around a local village of normals, and to meet with the town mayor. Krynos had troops making regular rounds in the local villages for the protection of the people, who were all part of the Dominion, but Vladros was a bitterly jealous and vicious vampire, bent on the destruction of the lycans (nothing new there). However, he couldn’t simply drain all of the normals, as he would then no longer have a food supply; normal human blood was the only nourishment their systems could tolerate. He had to keep them alive and procreating.
     Far to the north of the safety and comfort of the Dominion, in a dungeon below Vladros’ dilapidated castle, Ryder Johnson sat on the cold, stone floor of his cell, sipping on a small bowl of rancid blood that the jail keepers had given him.
     
This tastes like crap
, he thought to himself. It was the blood of a normal that had died days earlier, so the vital fluid had already begun to putrefy. The only reason it hadn't completely coagulated was because all vampires had an anti-coagulant protein in their saliva and someone had apparently spit in that particular batch of vital fluid. Still, it satiated his hunger, which had been overwhelming since his crash. He had no idea where he was, but simply wanted to get out, eliminate Gunnarsson, locate his ship, and then find the dega bitch who wasted his time on useless
dates
.
     As he stared at the pool of semi-coagulated red liquid in his bowl, he was nearly startled by a voice outside the cell, around the corner and out of visual range.
      “Your name is weak,” said the voice, “and I have an incredibly low tolerance for weakness.”
     Johnson lifted his head up once he had heard the voice, and responded while looking to the darkness, saying, “You want weak? Come on inside, ass-hat.”
      “Ah,” came the voice, hidden from around the corner, “you attempt to portray strength, but is it just a ruse?”
     Johnson looked in the direction of the voice and said, “What do you think? What do I have to lose? I’m locked up in this shitty cell, drinking rotten blood, and even though I find it disgusting, it kills my hunger. I just want to get out and find someone so I can kill him slowly.”
      “Slowly? As in torture?” asked the voice.
      “Yes, very slowly. I want to watch him suffer. Who are you and where am I?”
     Vladros walked out from around the corner, but not the corner from where Johnson thought the voice came from. That much surprised him, but what startled him even more was the man’s appearance. He was tall, pale and had a misshapen face, with rotten flecks of skin and flesh hanging from his chin. Wearing tightly fitting black leather garb with a long, elegant black cape, he gave Johnson a creepy, horrific stare from near-dead looking eyes.
     “I am Lord Vladros, the leader of this world. Tell me who you are and where you come from.”
     Vladros listened to Johnson for over an hour, piecing a puzzle together from what the former lieutenant told him, and after some thought he decided to not kill his prisoner. Rather, he wanted to put him to good use, as that was his nature – to use and continue.
     “I have listened to your story, and although it sounds untrue, I have had experience with a mage who can do those things. His kind is called the
Prīmulī
, and he is only one step below Jah – he whom we despise even more than the lycans. While this mage is quite dangerous, he has weaknesses, his primary one being the fact that he values life. To defeat him is simple. Destroy those he loves and he will buckle. It is easier to destroy than it is to create.”
     Johnson looked at the vampire leader and asked, “Where am I, and what have I become?”
     “You are a vampire – a lover of death and taker of the blood, and from what you have told me, you indeed love death, though your distaste for blood shall wane as time passes on. Come with me and I shall show you more.”
     Out of the shadows, a prison guard opened Johnson’s cell door, allowing him to accompany Lord Vladros out of the dungeon, and into the darkness above.
 

     Max and Jennie dressed down in leather, quadrinium battle armor and katanas, preparing to go to the local villages and visit with the normals, who, by the way, adored the lycans. In fact, it was considered quite an honor to be accepted into the clan, as they were known to be noble, strong and kind. If a normal was accepted into the clan, and had family in the village, it was well known that he or she would be able to care for their family quite well, as lycans soldiers were paid handsomely for their duties.
     The recon team met down in the common area of the castle, and all were quite glad to see Jennie, one of the few female lycan warriors ever known, and certainly the most beautiful. Donus was to lead the recon team, and shouted out when he saw Jennie and Max.
     “My friends! Come! Accompany me at the point!”
     The two off-worlders trotted over to Donus’ location and stood with him in the lead position, prepared to get out and have some fun. The Massive gate of the castle opened and the lycans burst out onto the wide pathway, long ago created by the continual footsteps of those seeking a better life.
     As the group, roughly two dozen in size, rambled down the constantly narrowing path, various team members bounded off to check trees for signs of enemy scent. Max thought that looked fun, and started to make great leaps in the forest, narrowly missing trees as he practically flew through the foliage. Perched in the top of a tree, he looked down at the marching group of lycans, unable to see Jennie.
      “Hey Gunnarsson,” she said, hanging upside-down from a branch practically next to him. “Having a blast? I know I am!” She simply let go, falling multiple meters, and quietly landed on her booted feet on the mossy forest floor. She laughed and looked up to where Max was, but not seeing him, she only heard his voice.
      “Looking for someone?” he asked from directly behind her position, as he casually leaned up against a tree.
      “Ooh, you’re fast, but not fast enough!” she yelped as she bounded out forward, catching up with the group while gleefully laughing.
     In any normal situation, Donus would have commanded those who had split off from the group to come back, but Max and Jennie were not only enjoying their first time out of the castle, they were also quite special, and that was a well-known fact throughout Krynos’ military. The two bounded out ahead, smelling and touching, listening and howling. Max started to pay a bit more attention to his surroundings, and not Jennie’s posterior, after he nearly did a face dump into a tree. They were like children who had been locked inside a classroom for six months, and were then suddenly let out on their first field trip.
     Not too long after they left they arrived at the village, with various normals walking about, working and selling goods and foodstuffs. A blacksmith pounded away at his iron works with loud, clanging noises, as smoke rose out of chimneys in quaint huts lining the muddy, unpaved main thoroughfare. Max found it to be beautifully archaic, and quite different from the world into which he was born. Jennie pranced down the road, waving and greeting little children, all of whom showed absolutely no fear of the marching lycan soldiers. It was quite apparent that these people enjoyed the protection of the Dominion, and also that relations between the castle and the hamlet were quite good.
     Donus broke off from his group and went to one of the larger buildings, calling Max and Jennie to accompany him. Even though the building was larger than most of the others, it still comprised of only a single floor, just like all of the others. Knocking lightly before entering, the three found a portly normal male, dressed quite eloquently in various fabrics and leathers, seated behind a modest desk, overflowing with stacks of manuscripts.
      “Ah, Donus, good sir,” exclaimed the plump man of fairly advanced age, his white hair accentuated by green eyes, “it is so good to see you again. Please! Please, come and have a seat.”
     Then, instantly noticing Jennie, he said, “Please by all means, introduce me to this rarity of nature. It is not often we are visited by someone of such bold beauty.”
     Jennie would have blushed, had she not felt that the older gentleman was being a bit perverted, but took a seat on a rickety wooden chair, with Donus and Max choosing chairs that were a bit more stable.
      “Mayor Stein,” started Donus, “these are visitors to the Dominion, Max Gunnarsson, and his companion, Jennie Escalante. They join us as we make our rounds.”
     Jennie cringed at Donus’ statement, never having considered herself to be Gunnarsson’s
companion
.
      “I have been informed that there have been assorted attacks by Vladros’ death squads, and, on King Krynos’ orders, I am to compile a list of the missing from here.”
     Mayor Stein quickly shuffled through his manuscripts and pulled one out, handing it to Donus. “Here, my good sir. I believe this will give you sufficient information. I must say, although we have suffered some losses recently, mostly males, they are not nearly what they were in the past. That being said, has the king given further thought to my request for a permanent garrison in town?”
     Donus briefly scanned over the names and descriptions on the manuscript, and then turned his attention back to the mayor.
      “I am pleased to say that King Krynos has agreed to your offer of hosting troops here, but we shall build our own quarters, as it is not our way to inhabit the homes of locals and take advantage of their hospitality. Would you be so kind as to loan me a quill and ink so that I may make a copy of this listing?”
     Max and Jennie looked at each other, never having considered that the process of something so simple - making a duplicate of data - would be such a chore. On their world, they would simply touch a command on their console, with a duplicate being sent to wherever they desired. This truly was an old world of the future, yet it had a certain charm that was lacking on their home world of Azul.
     The mayor smiled and handed a previously made copy of the manuscript to the large lycan commander, while saying, “Donus, I think you know me better than that. Always prepared, I am, yes, always prepared.”
     Donus nodded, as he graciously accepted the copied manuscript from Mayor Stein, then asking, “Is there anything else you wish for me to relay to the king? Ours is but a short mission, as we are going out to the border of these lands, and on our return we shall sweep around to the west and not return through your village.”
      “Oh no, my dear commander. That would be all, as things are going quite well these days. Our crops are plentiful, and, thanks to the Dominion’s expert instructions our hunters have increased their kills three-fold.”
     With their business apparently finished, the three visitors stood up to leave, and Donus saying, “I am pleased that you have garnered such success, as we all strive to live a fruitful existence, but we now must leave and continue our patrols.”
     The portly mayor stood up from behind his desk and gave Donus a courteous bow, following up with the same to Max and Jennie, whom he especially looked over with an almost leering eye. She basically ignored him, but Max suddenly got an odd feeling about the seemingly kind mayor. Putting it in the back of his mind, the three bowed simultaneously to the mayor, and turned to leave.
     Once outside the mayor’s home, Max looked over to Donus and plainly stated, “I don’t trust him. He’s shifty.”
     “Yes, good Max. His scent is wrong, if that indeed is what your word
shifty
means. I shall make a note to have my patrols keep a close eye on the mayor, and of course inform King Krynos of our mutual suspicions.”
     Jennie skipped alongside the two men, her katana wobbling slightly on her back, as the straps used to hold it to her armor were made for someone of greater size. “I think he’s creepy,” she said.
     “Creepy? What means that word?”
    “Eerie or ominous,” Max replied in Jennie’s stead.
     Mayor Stein looked to the back of his office, as a door opened and a younger man in long, black robes walked out.
     “I assume you heard our entire conversation. Who are they?” the mayor asked the man.
     The robed individual, who happened to be Dom Von Adler, a low-level mage in the employ of the mayor, quickly looked out the window to make certain they were alone.
     “They are both lycan, but the male – he is also a mage, and much more powerful than my caste. I could feel his energies pushing against the walls of the room. One such as myself would be foolish to confront him. He could rend my body in two with but a gesture. He is no minor-mage, rather something of a higher level, but how much higher I do not know.”
     “A lycan
AND
a mage? Why, that is rare - quite rare indeed! And a female lycan warrior, also a rarity, but not unheard of,” responded Mayor Stein. “How can you detect that he is a mage, my friend?”
     Von Adler looked at the mayor with a touch of concern and said, “I can feel the energies coursing through the system of any adult mage. Nature hides mage-potential indicators in children as a means of their protection, but once they hit puberty they are exposed the same as the rest of us. And yes, the fact that there is a lycan/mage could provide us with some considerable difficulties in the future. Also, did you not notice the gauntlet on the female’s left hand? It is a mage’s device, and gives her considerable destructive power far beyond that of the typical lycan. It appears that Krynos is enhancing his forces, and would not do so unless he were aware of our activities. I must inform our allies of this,” stated Von Adler, as he quickly left the room back through the door he had used in which to enter just minutes before.
     In a small alcove, Von Adler waved his hand in the air and conjured a visual of a vaguely twisted and pale-faced man. It was not an infoscreen such as Draagh would conjure, but it was sufficient for a vid conference.
     “What do you need, Von Adler?”
    “My Lord,” responded the minor-mage, “We have a situation. Krynos has two magic-capable lycans in his employ – a male and a female, the male being incredibly powerful.”
     Von Adler heard a voice that was out of the view of his conjured image, with it demanding, “What do they look like? Can you show me?”
     Von Adler nodded, and in the far away moldy throne room of a dark and rotting castle, imagery appeared showing Donus, Max and Jennie marching along with the lycan recon team.
     “That’s them! The bitch and the scientist!” wailed the voice.     
     “You know these two?” asked the man in Von Adler’s conjured visual.
     “Oh yeah, I sure do, said the other voice, “It’s because of them I’m stuck here.”
     Von Adler then told Vladros that Donus’ team was going to sweep out around the western frontier on their return back to Krynos’ stronghold, to which Vladros stated, “Excellent. I believe it is time we paid the dogs a little visit. Ryder, would you like to accompany my scouts on a mission? You have yet to prove your worth, and I would like to see that of which you are capable.”