Jazmay reached for a lever and didn’t note that some of the smooth coating had chipped away to expose a sharp piece of metal, which tore through her glove as she flicked the lever down. ‘Shit!’
‘What is it?’ Taren asked, concerned. Jazmay was beside her and with the memory bank headset engaged Taren couldn’t turn her head.
‘I just tore my glove.’ Jazmay observed it, and when it did not repair itself she concluded that it was not made from the same organic fibre as their suits. ‘Not to worry, I’ll work around it.’ She used her other fingers for pressing buttons. ‘Okay, Doctor,’ Jazmay stepped back to ask her, ‘you ready?’
‘So ready,’ Taren emphasised.
‘Then I guess I’ll see you in about five minutes.’ Jazmay smiled from within the chief’s body, which looked ridiculous to Taren as she had never seen the man smile.
Taren gave Jazmay the thumbs up and then waited with bated breath to be reunited with her past.
‘I’m putting you under,’ Jazmay advised.
With a slight zapping sensation in both her temples, Taren sank into a deep trance state.
Jazmay stood back and folded her arms to wait out the download, her freed finger playing with the hole that had been ripped in her glove.
Her sights became fixed on the strip of bare skin left exposed between the end of Taren’s sleeve and her glove. Jazmay knew this was a very powerful woman — she had to be to have the power of teleportation! Back in their own universe, only the royal line of Phemoria had ever been known to have such a power.
The power to teleport. Jazmay’s freed finger began itching with anticipation, all she had to do was reach out her hand. The governor had stated that stealing the DNA of any of his people would be considered a treasonous offence, but Dr Lennox was not one of the Chosen, and no one need ever find out.
Childhood came flooding back, and at that time she was known simply as Taren A. She had been privately accommodated and tutored with no expense spared and so had led a rather solitary childhood. She recalled no close friends, no family except occasional visits from her father, which were conducted under absolute secrecy. Taren may have been lonely, but she had never been alone. There had been several bodyguards with her at all times, a nanny, and various school teachers and self-defence instructors that came and went. As soon as her aptitude for precognition became evident, Taren was further instructed in secret by the MSS, where she also received extensive weapons, equipment and vehicle training. This had been her own choice, although her father had suggested the move. Powerful man that he was, he’d seen to it that Taren would never be psychically restrained, so long as she worked in cooperation with the secret service.
Taren started out as a solo field agent, and during her time in the service had many short affairs with men, both on and off the job, all of whom had ended up dead, either by her own hand or at the hands of the MSS’s enemies. But each time she lost, or was made to sacrifice, a lover, Taren’s heart became more closed, and like a good soldier, she got on with the next mission.
Once Taren’s talent for foreseeing the future became known throughout the ranks, every agent wanted to be on her team and she was promoted to a command position. She was known as ‘the Timekeeper’, as she timed out every move of every man on every mission to the second before leaving. Her team, ‘the time-cheats’, were renowned for their success and zero casualties on both sides. Eventually, even Chief Ronan’s son requested a transfer to her unit.
Yasper Ronan was as exemplary a soldier as Taren had been a psychic, and they fast became known as a dream team. But when they crossed the professional line and fell in love, all that came to an end. Chief Ronan had his son transferred to another unit, and on his first mission out, Yasper was killed.
This was where Taren’s deep loathing of the chief had come from; prior to that she’d been his little golden girl and he wouldn’t have cared less who she slept with.
After hearing about Yasper’s death Taren had stormed into Ronan’s office to find him in a meeting with her father, President Anselm.
‘If you think my father is going to protect you from me, you’re wrong!’ she’d hollered as her father held her back from the chief.
‘We were just discussing your dismissal,’ the chief had replied, emotionless on the surface.
‘No,’ Taren objected, ‘you don’t have to dismiss me, I quit! I’m sick of working for you arseholes! Yasper was perfectly fine in my charge.’ She’d begun to weep. ‘Why did you have to reassign him?’
‘He was not fine with you!’ Ronan had roared in response. ‘You were poisoning his mind with your airy-fairy notions about how the cosmos works! “Time is not linear” … what rubbish!’
That was the moment that Taren had known what her true calling was. ‘You ignorant little man,’ she had said with contempt. ‘I will study every facet of science and I will make you eat those words when I go back in time and save Yasper from that fatal mission!’
‘You’re not going anywhere with all that MSS training,’ Ronan scoffed at her ambition. ‘If you want out, you must leave what you know about us with us.’
Eager to escape the clutches of the MSS, Taren agreed to relinquish all her training and mission information to the MSS memory bank.
It wasn’t until she was actually strapped in the chair and ready to be put under, that her father suggested that Ronan also remove all memory of his son’s death from Taren’s mind.
‘No!’ Taren had shrieked in protest. ‘Don’t you dare … I’ll forget my objective!’
‘It’s for the best,’ her father had insisted. ‘I’ll ensure the desire to study science stays — that is an excellent course for you — but you need a clean slate now.’
‘No, I don’t!’ She’d struggled to free herself from the chair. ‘Don’t make me hate you, Father.’
Her father turned to Ronan to advise, ‘And delete all memory of me as well.’
‘What?’ Taren didn’t understand; without her father she had no mainstay in her life. ‘Why?’
‘Because, if you don’t know who you are, then no one will,’ he replied.
‘He’ll know.’ Taren nodded her restrained head towards Ronan.
‘Ronan and I have a longstanding agreement, and the MSS will not interfere in your new life, I swear to you.’ He handed Ronan a data storage device. ‘I want a copy of everything you extract.’
‘I did not agree to this,’ Taren hissed, feeling betrayed, and, for the first time in her life, disempowerment. ‘If you do this, it will come back to haunt you, both of you,’ she spoke up for Ronan’s benefit, ‘that’s a promise.’
‘I love you, Taren, I always have and I always will.’
The last thing Taren saw was her father’s handsome face smiling down at her. She wanted to hurt him and Ronan, for the damage they were going to do to her mind, heart and life.
‘Sleep now, baby-doll,’ he uttered and touched her cheek fondly.
If she could have turned her head and bitten him she would have. ‘I’m not … your …’
It was the most anguished return to consciousness Taren had ever experienced, and according to her memory, she had experienced quite a few. Yasper was the first of her past insights to enter her conscious mind, and her heart ached as though he’d been torn from her life only yesterday. That was why she had been fascinated by science; an unconscious desire to go back to the past and save her lover’s life. She’d suspected long ago that time was non-linear and that she could change the past as easily as she changed the future.
As the memory bank shut down, Taren’s restraints automatically retracted, and Jazmay approached to check if Dr Lennox was okay.
When Taren opened her eyes, she did so with all her hatred and frustration fresh in her mind. Hence, when she saw Chief Ronan leaning over her, asking her if she was okay, her perception was somewhat distorted and she belted him with all her might and fury. Taren was shocked by her own precision and power when he fell dead to the floor. It was rat
her a rude awakening when the chief’s form dissolved away to reveal the beautiful Jazmay.
‘Oh no, I didn’t do that,’ she gasped, dropping to the floor beside Jazmay, devastated by the event.
Taren checked Jazmay’s vital signs, but her aim had been true and the fact that Taren Lennox was a deadly weapon was now an all-too-stark reality. Taren considered her belief that she could alter the past — she’d just never been able to figure out how she would accomplish the feat. However, since losing her memory Taren had learnt how to teleport. If I can teleport the molecules of my body from one place to another, then why not teleport them back into my own body just prior to waking up? But would she remember not to lash out at the chief?
‘Only one way to find out.’ Taren set her will in motion, and her world fell into darkness once more.
‘What is taking so long?’ Zeven was getting restless, staring at the monitor, waiting for Taren to awake.
‘Be patient,’ Lucian replied, eyeing the halls beyond the walls of the security station so as to raise a warning if anyone came their way. ‘Just keep your voice down, before you —’
They didn’t hear the weapon fire — it was silent.
‘Shit!’ Zeven hit the floor, covered in a glowing blue plasma that he fought to be rid of to no avail.
The commander who had fired upon Zeven lined up to take a shot at Lucian when suddenly everyone in the room was possessed by such a good vibe that the commander couldn’t fire. ‘What an arsehole,’ he referred to himself and threw the weapon aside. ‘Look what I have done to your comrade.’ He motioned to Zeven.
Lucian was bemused for a moment, until he looked to Ringbalin who appeared to be in a deep meditative state — he could now project his feelings on others remotely, it seemed, he had done this in a blind rage before, but never in a perfectly calm state — this was new. ‘What have you done to my comrade, exactly?’ Lucian asked the amicable commander, who was helping Zeven to his feet, as the blue plasma began to fade and Zeven was left shaking like a leaf.
‘The plasma deadens psychic talent, that’s all,’ the fellow explained with a smile.
‘That’s all!’ Zeven found his own feet and shoved the fellow aside. ‘I’m Powerless!’ The pilot was devastated. Zeven appeared to be the only one unaffected by Ringbalin’s energy; perhaps the plasma he’d just been bathed in was creating a barrier. ‘Now what are we going to do?’ he appealed to Lucian, as Zeven lost wilful control over the agents in the room and they began to wake up.
‘Taren is awake,’ Telmo advised happily, wondering why he was happy when MSS agents were waking all around him and they had lost their transport home.
‘She’ll come for us.’ Lucian was sure about that and upbeat. ‘I just hope Ringbalin can keep the goodwill going until she does.’
Both Lucian and Zeven began returning the waves of the security agents, who were politely introducing themselves.
When Taren awoke and saw the chief, her first thought was, It’s Jazmay. She gripped hold of the Phemorian’s arm and willed them both immediately back to Rhun.
‘How did it go?’ the governor asked the ladies as they appeared before him.
‘Good, I think.’ Jazmay looked to Taren, who was quivering like a leaf as she let Jazmay go.
‘Please assume your true form,’ Taren requested, and as Jazmay complied, she was greatly relieved. ‘Oh my stars!’ Taren gripped her head and then her stomach, overwhelmed by what she had just accomplished and doubly overwhelmed by the implications of the feat — it was one huge cosmic pat on the back, and at the same time, a winding punch in the guts. Taren leant forward to breathe, to avoid passing out from the adrenaline-fuelled panic that was coursing through her.
‘Please, Dr Lennox,’ Rhun was very anxious also, ‘did you find the answer we were looking for?’
Taren unfurled to an upright position to look the governor in the eye, and tears were dripping down over her devastated expression as she nodded to confirm. ‘I know a way,’ was all she could manage to say. The pain the solution caused her was suffocating, and she wanted only to find a solitary place to come to terms with her destiny alone. ‘Where are the boys?’
‘You beat them back,’ Rhun replied.
‘They would have seen me wake up.’ Taren shook her head, feeling something was amiss; Zeven would have planned to beat her back here because it was his nature to show off. ‘I’m going after them,’ she announced, and vanished before Rhun could have a say in the matter.
In the MSS security station on Maladaan, Taren found the male contingent of their team having coffee with the on-duty agents — this had been the last scenario she’d expected to find. ‘Sleep and forget,’ Taren willed their adversaries back into slumber, and again they fell where they were.
‘Thank heavens!’ Ringbalin finally emerged from his trance state and had a stretch.
‘What happened?’ Taren looked to Zeven.
‘This …’ He picked up the weapon that the commander had cast aside on the floor, ‘… happened.’
‘Are you all right?’ Lucian moved to support Taren, as she was visibly trembling.
Taren nodded, although she felt far from stable.
‘There’s someone coming,’ Lucian noted, seeing through the wall a group of agents and a very tall fellow approaching, who were armed with the same weapon Zeven held in his hand.
‘We need to go, quickly.’ Taren was afraid she might pass out before she got them home.
As the crew complied swiftly, linking arms to form a chain, the doors to the security room parted and Lucian was shocked to see a large lizard-like creature hiding inside the tall human’s form.
‘Yahweh Shyamal,’ uttered Telmo in a daze as he stared at the tall impostor.
The creature’s eyes opened wide upon hearing his name. ‘Taliesin,’ accused the tall human in mutual recognition. ‘Fire!’ he ordered the agents in his company.
Taren summoned what little strength and willpower she had left to teleport and they escaped, finding themselves poolside on Kila.
Lucian, Ringbalin and Telmo gave a cheer. But not Zeven — he dropped to the ground, the damning weapon still in hand, and hunched over to grieve the power he had lost.
‘Telmo, you recognised that creature?’ Lucian asked, curious to know how.
‘It seems so.’ Telmo scratched his head. ‘I associate him with desert and huge stone pyramid structures.’
Rhun could think of only one such place. ‘Egypt.’
‘There seemed to be a war going on.’ Telmo shrugged as that was all he had perceived.
‘The Pyramid Wars,’ the governor considered, having visited and lived during those dark times in Earth’s history. ‘There were quite a few Orions running riot on Earth during that time. Is that the weapon they used on Avery?’ Rhun looked to Zeven.
‘Him and me both.’ Zeven tossed the weapon to the governor.
‘I’ll get Floyd and Kestler to take a look at it,’ Rhun advised, ‘see if they can come up with a way to reverse its effects.’
‘I sincerely hope they can.’
Taren felt like she was coming apart at the seams, and she quickly made for her room inside the temple.
‘Dr Lennox?’ Rhun was the first to note her departing. ‘What about debrief?’
‘I’m so sorry,’ her voice wavered, as she turned back without stopping. ‘Just give me a few hours.’ Taren made it inside the temple door, out of the sight of her fellow crew members, before bursting into tears, and she rushed to her room to expel some of her pent-up emotion.
So, it was as Taren feared — only by bringing about her worst nightmare could she right the wrong that had been done her planet. The great irony of this was that Taren didn’t feel her planet was even worth saving, but Kila was, and in any case, it was not her place to make such judgements. But why, when she had worked so hard to create a wonderful life for herself, was the universe taking it all back? The MSS were ultimately responsible for the Maladaan disaster, so why was the u
niverse making her pay for their crime? Because you are the only one with the power and knowledge to stop them doing it again. She had asked the Grigori for an answer and now that she had it, all she wanted was to give it back, ignore it, find another way around it!
She wept and wailed into her pillows long enough to expel her initial anguish and to realise that her tears were not going to change the situation — about all crying was going to do was dehydrate her. Drawing upon her extensive warrior training, she reined in her emotions and cast the pillow aside. ‘I need a bath.’ Not the first conclusion most soldiers would come to in a crisis situation, but Taren found hot water relaxed her and the reflective surface of the water was very good for contemplation and inspiration. ‘I need to wrap my head around this.’
The hot water did its job, and slowly Taren felt herself wanting to come to her senses. It was considering the numerous implications of her solution that kept driving her back into a panicked state. ‘It’s too big.’ She couldn’t bear the weight of knowing alone — she needed to talk with someone wise, someone unbiased — she needed to speak with En Noah.
Taren was out of the bath and dressed in a flash. She was just conjuring an image of En Noah, when Lucian’s voice delayed her and she gasped — she never thought she’d feel this, but Lucian was the last person she wanted to speak with right now.
‘Are you going somewhere?’ He sounded deeply concerned that she was so troubled and distant.
‘I need to speak with En Noah,’ she said, knowing that it would sound odd to her lover that she needed to speak with another man about her experience.
‘Could you please speak to me first,’ he appealed.
Taren was afraid to even voice her epiphany yet, for fear of making it concrete, and she shook her head. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She sympathised with his confusion and hurt. ‘But I have my past and possible future colliding inside my head, and I need time to sort through it.’