In what had once been the officers’ lounge and his father’s favourite killing chamber, Khalid appeared and issued a psychic command. Every last fragment of Chironjivi’s remains rise. He motioned with his hands and the collection of scattered bones lifted into the air. Poof! he thought as the remains simultaneously combusted, disintegrating into ash, which swirled into a whirlwind and deposited itself into a metal container that Khalid held out. He dropped the amulet from his hand inside and locked the container closed, sealing his father within. ‘There’s a new captain on board, boys,’ he alerted the remaining crew. ‘So … support, protect and serve me, or you can share Chironjovi’s fate.’
The atmosphere in the room became disturbed and things began moving about on their own, flying toward Khalid in revolt.
‘Well … do what you like, but I’m taking the ship.’
Khalid thought himself to the edge of the desert canyon that contained the remains of the ill-fated fleet of his forefathers.
It was twilight on the edge of the red sunken abyss, from where Khalid focused his will on the mother ship deep in the canyon below. To the sound of metal buckling, rock cracking and falling into a dust cloud, the crumpled wreck of the old spacecraft drifted up out of the deep canyon, to float in the evening sky. With his next thought the vessel restored itself to mint condition, and the exterior turned black as night. The name of the craft, the Insurrecto, which in the US universal language meant ‘the firebrand’, was written across her hull in silver.
‘What’s an outlaw without a pirate ship?’ He grinned, satisfied with the upgrade. The interior, he decided, was now not only pristine, but had a state-of-the-art technological upgrade. All the remains of his father’s killing sprees were left behind in the pit that was Dead Man Downs.
‘Well, Father.’ Khalid looked at the metal canister in his hands. ‘It doesn’t look like you will be joining your crew after all … I have a feeling they would rather come on a space adventure with me, than stay in the stifling limbo of this rotting hole. Still, if you do ever manage to escape your containment, you’ll have all the women and girls you ever screwed to keep you company.’ Khalid tossed the canister out into the canyon and it was gobbled up by the receding dust storm.
The remains of each dead crew member had stayed on board the Insurrecto, in the chamber that had become known as the Soul Keep.
The Soul Keep was the ritual room where all of the crew had taken their own lives, rather than die a slow inevitable death. There were no skeletal remains in the chamber, only a large vat, which had been cargo bound for Sermetica on the ill-fated voyage. The self-heating metal vat had been moved to this chamber in a desperate bid by the men on board to seek revenge from beyond the grave. Their aim in creating the ghostly legion was to forge a reservoir of vital force that would sustain the body of their captain beyond its average life expectancy, so that he might seek revenge on behalf of the betrayed, banished and slaughtered male population of Phemoria. To join the campaign, each crew member took his own life by throwing himself into the molten metal vat, containing metal from their ship and the ignition key used to launch them to their death. The amulet Khalid had extracted from himself had been fashioned from this metal by his father to give his son psychic protection. As Chironjivi had never sacrificed himself for the cause, however, he’d not yet joined his spirit to those of his tormented crew. Now that Khalid had disposed of his father’s bones, Chironjivi would never lead them again.
It was to the Soul Keep chamber that Khalid willed himself.
The place was deathly quiet as Khalid walked up onto the sacrificial platform behind the vat and looked down into it.
The metal inside the vat was hard, for it had not been fired up since Khalid had been born. But now the bastard prince needed a new amulet — one that was completely free of Chironjivi’s influence. He focused his intention on the long-dormant vat before him. The cool metal surface slowly lit up and turned white, then bright yellow, before it melted into the bubbling bright orange liquid metal underneath. As the heat rose in the chamber so did the spirits of the dead, and although Khalid was no medium, he could sense their agitated presence. ‘Somewhere out there,’ he pointed out into space beyond the shield window, ‘are the beings who imprisoned me for five long years, and left you stranded in this hole without influence in the physical realm. I have banished the soul of Chironjivi, because he tried to steal my body, my life, just as he stole all of yours, to satisfy his own sick lust for earthly pleasure. Yet he never delivered the great victory he promised, did he? That’s what he brought me into existence for. I have the means to wreak havoc, not just on Phemoria, but on the entire United Systems!’ He motioned to the restored ship around them. ‘Award me your protection, allegiance and remote vision, and we will drive those light-filled, do-good fuckers into their graves. Or, choose to stay here with Chironjivi and his victims … and I shall gladly have all the fun without you.’
From within the vat, a snake of molten metal rose out of the liquid and reached out toward Khalid, who cautiously extended an arm. The fiery reptile seared his skin upon contact. Khalid gritted his teeth and seethed as it wound its way at lightning speed up his arm, onto his shoulder and around his neck. The creature swallowed its tail and hardened into a choker of metal — not uncomfortably tight, but too snug to be removed without taking his head off. The scorched trail left on his skin by the metal reptile healed over and, casting his sight around the chamber, Khalid found he could now see and hear his ghostly crew. They were chanting his name in unison and he grinned, delighted by the additional Power that their fealty awarded him.
‘Time for a little payback.’
Telmo was thoroughly enjoying all the media attention; it had been exciting showing the film crew around the ancient inter-system gateway station throughout the day. In his opinion, they really deserved the credit they were receiving. The truth was, they hadn’t found old blueprints; they had solved the ancient puzzle together.
The technological expertise Kalayna had demonstrated in fashioning the missing component, not even she could explain. In her sleep one night, Kalayna had seen the system working and taken a mental tour through all the circuitry and engines. By the next morning, it just seemed logical to her what was missing and what manner of component needed to be fashioned in order to get the system operational.
With a comprehension unparalleled by any of the scientists who had attempted to decode the gateway before them, Telmo could only be impressed by Kalayna’s brilliance. If her skill was owed to some psychic power, he was certainly not going to be the one to betray her. It was his greatest honour to even know her and the thought of locking away such a brilliant mind was utterly horrifying! Fortunately Kalayna was a citizen of Frujia, where such Powers had been decriminalised.
The filming party had returned to the crew lounge to conduct the closing interview for the day. Their interviewer, Belfore, was just thanking Kalayna and Telmo for showing them around, when some official-looking types entered the room carrying the primary weapon in the MSS war on psychics — a photon-camera.
Telmo glanced briefly at Kalayna, who was understandably concerned by the development. He then looked to the new arrivals, aware that the camera was still running. ‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘Just a routine check to ensure the safety of our good citizens.’ The agent with the camera addressed the film crew from Maladaan. ‘Kill the lights.’
Telmo heard Kalayna gasp in fear when the agent’s request was granted. The lights went out and all that could be heard was the camera taking silent snaps. He reached for Kalayna’s hand in the darkness and she gripped his tight; maybe she was just a brilliant mind? They could only hope, as they were about to find out.
The lights came back on, to everyone’s discomfort.
‘Just as I thought.’ The agent looked to the pair of geniuses. ‘This feat reeks of psychic interference.’
‘What?’ Belfore, their friendly reporter, stood and backed away from them
in fear. ‘Which one?’
‘Both are showing minimal signs of psychic potential,’ the agent judged from his reading.
‘What?’ they exclaimed at once. Telmo was even more shocked to learn this than Kalayna was.
‘Miss Zuri is a resident of Frujia, where we have no jurisdiction,’ the agent explained. ‘But as Mr Dacre currently holds a visa to study in Esponisa, he will be coming with us.’
‘What?’ Kalayna repeated, clearly thrown by the unexpected threat to her partner. ‘No!’ She stood between Telmo and the film crew, now flanked by agents, who were all a little wary of the unrestrained psychics before them — their clever camera couldn’t tell them what Power a subject had. ‘Mr Dacre is a resident of Sermetica.’
‘Not at present,’ the agent replied and looked to his men. ‘She’s a minimal threat!’ he pointed out.
‘No.’ Kalayna turned and crouched before Telmo, who was still seated and dazed with shock. ‘I never got to tell you —’ Short on time, she gripped his face in her hands and kissed him passionately — until she was pulled away by agents. ‘I love you.’
The news was rather a shock to Telmo, whom she’d always been strictly business with. He’d admired her too much to risk destroying their great work ethic with an affair. ‘You might have said so sooner.’ He forced a smile at the terrible timing.
‘I know.’ She wept openly as she was dragged apart from him. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s not your fault.’ He shrugged. ‘Who knew?’ He’d certainly had no idea, and as an agent approached to clamp a restraining device on him, he had to wonder what Power it was he had? Well, certainly not a telepath or a pre-cog, or I would have seen this coming. He inwardly made light of his predicament, as it was so surreal. The only thing Telmo excelled at was using his mind, so was he suddenly going to lose his smarts and become an average moron? He’d finally won Kalayna’s affection, but much of that attraction was intellectual and panic gripped his heart. He’d found love and learnt he had a Power, and seconds later, both were being taken away.
‘Not so fast.’
Telmo was startled when everyone suddenly backed away from him. He turned about on the lounge to see a darkly clad man, whose eyes and hair were as black as his attire. He had just appeared there, as the only entrance was behind where the agents and film crew were huddled.
‘Khalid Mansur?’ It was Belfore Truberman who put a name to the mysterious guest.
‘None other,’ he confirmed.
On board AMIE, Taren and Lucian had been monitoring the broadcast closely. Despite Taren’s bad feeling, the telecast seemed genuinely more interested in the ancient gateway than exposing psychics.
Nevertheless, they called a meeting in the conference room next to Lucian’s office, to advise Yasper and the rest of the crew of the situation unfolding. Lucian piped the telecast through to the large monitor in the conference room. Yasper and Jazmay delighted in watching the report, starring the little brother Yasper had yet to meet. Zeven and Aurora were also eager to keep watching the telecast, as they were excited for Kalayna.
If the report ended without incident, Kalayna and Telmo would be seeking a new assignment soon anyway; AMIE would pilfer them for their project and everyone would breathe easier.
The broadcast had but an hour to go when Taren received a message from her father which caused the bad feeling she’d been having intensify tenfold.
‘Khalid has escaped.’ She drew everyone’s attention, as she read the text out loud.
‘Mother was right.’ Zeven rose out of his seat to stand.
‘Why today?’ Yasper looked at his little brother on screen, praying the two incidents were not connected.
‘A very good question,’ Taren said.
The camera turned from the interview with Telmo and Kalayna to film a group of men entering the scene with a photon-camera.
‘You have got to be shitting me?’ Yasper watched, frozen in disbelief as the agents announced they were arresting Telmo. ‘We have to do something!’
‘What goes on on board this vessel is my call. What takes place outside of it is hers.’ Lucian nodded toward Taren, and Yasper looked her way.
‘Of course we will,’ Taren assured him, ‘but only —’
‘Khalid Mansur?’ the broadcast announcer said and snatched the attention of all in the room, as the live footage of their arch nemesis filled the screen.
‘None other,’ he replied.
‘Zeven, Jazmay.’ Taren called for them to follow her.
‘Let me —’ Yasper insisted.
‘You don’t do invisible,’ Taren insisted.
‘But Jaz can cover me —’
As Taren, Zeven and Jazmay vanished, Yasper gave up and turned back to the screen, anxious about the outcome.
‘Time is short,’ Khalid advised his opposers, ‘so I’ll make this perfectly clear. Let the girl go, or I will implode the heart of everyone in this station and take her anyway.’
‘Ha.’ Kalayna laughed as the agents immediately let her go and she ran back to join Telmo on the lounge.
Hurry, the light ones are coming! Khalid’s invisible force warned.
‘Give my regards to Anselm …’ Khalid came forward and placed one hand on Kalayna and one on Telmo. ‘And all the leaders of the United Systems … I’ll be coming for them soon.’
Taren and crew arrived just in time to see Khalid vanish with Kalayna and Telmo, leaving those present stunned. The three of them maintained their invisibility during the chaos that followed Khalid’s disappearance. Taren spotted the offending camera in the hand of an MSS agent, who was rattled when it blew up without warning.
‘We can’t do anything here,’ she heard Jazmay mutter.
Taren attempted to will herself after their targets, but nothing came of it: she saw only darkness. With a heavy heart, Taren had to concede that Jazmay was right. ‘Back to base then.’ She made the call, not looking forward to catching Yasper’s reaction.
‘Why are you here?’ Yasper demanded to know as soon as they all returned. ‘Why didn’t you go —’
‘We can’t!’ Jazmay snapped at her husband, not liking his tone and annoyed that he would question Taren’s judgement. ‘Khalid is shielding them with darkness, just as we shield ourselves with light.’
‘Maiara said that light could penetrate darkness.’ Taren was frustrated. ‘Yet Khalid’s ghostly army are protecting him so efficiently, he may as well be as dead as they are.’ One could not psychically locate the deceased. ‘Maiara must have been a powerful precog to have seen through the dark shroud.’ Taren’s own statement got her thinking.
‘But even Maiara professed to having trouble remotely viewing or tracking Khalid’s movements,’ Zeven stated for the record, adding fuel to Taren’s own quiet theory.
‘Perhaps precognition is the most efficient way to penetrate the darkness — like a physic back door?’ Taren voiced her thoughts. ‘I was in a precognitive trance when I perceived Khalid plotting Zeven’s death.’
‘My guess is that in a precognitive trance you are viewing this reality from a higher level of perception,’ Aurora piped up. ‘It’s like the difference between remote viewing someone and astrally projecting to them. Remote viewing — you are seeing the world very much from a physical perspective, but when you astral project you are using only your light body and employing third-eye vision, like Lucian does when seeing spirits, or Zelimir does when seeing auras.’
‘Damn it,’ Yasper protested. ‘What’s to be done then?’
Taren took a seat, tired and emotionally drained; she could only shake her head and shrug.
‘Rest,’ Lucian answered in a word, but Yasper was concerned.
‘What if Khalid —’
‘Telmo and Kalayna are no use to Khalid dead.’ Lucian flattened his objection. ‘And if we don’t get some rest soon, we’ll be beyond any form of rational thought.’
Yasper backed down and took a seat. ‘Do you think it is just a happy coincidence
that he took Telmo and Kalayna? Or is he onto us?’
‘I feel it is the latter,’ Taren replied. ‘I’ve felt it all day.’ She cursed staying her hand when she could have snatched them both out of there this morning. ‘Stupid!’ She hit herself in the head.
‘I urged you to refrain,’ Lucian reminded her.
‘I held you up arguing,’ Yasper said.
‘Just how many miracles do you expect to make happen in one day?’ Lucian reminded her in exasperation. ‘Get some rest … everyone. We’ll brainstorm some more in six hours.’
When the cold, dark shadow cleared, Kalayna and Telmo found they had been brought to an engineering lab, and the view out through the windows seemed to indicate that they were in deep space.
‘You are Khalid Mansur?’ Telmo queried before Kalayna got her wits about her.
‘We’ve been over that already.’ Khalid let them both go.
‘But, weren’t you in prison for attempting to kidnap President Anselm?’ Telmo swung around to address him. Kalayna backed up also, now that her memory had been jogged as to who their saviour was.
‘Happily, that is no longer the case.’ He forced a grin and looked to Kalayna.
‘What do you want with us?’ She didn’t like the way the outlaw was looking at her — it was creeping her out.
‘Besides needing you to lend your considerable technological expertise to a few projects I’m planning,’ he began, civilly, and then abruptly grabbed Telmo around the back of the neck, ‘I need you to tell me about your friends on AMIE.’
Kalayna gasped, shocked to the core to discover that one little wave to Kale and BA on camera had put them all at risk. Telmo was younger than she was and had the physique of a scholar who was not going to withstand a whole lot of torture. ‘What do you want to know?’
Khalid manifested a blade in his free hand and traced the sharp point down Telmo’s smooth pink cheek. ‘Such a pretty boy,’ he noted, ‘it would be such a shame to scar such a perfect complexion.’ He pressed harder and his blade drew blood.