Daniel Benedict

SWiSH Movie - thetales4.swi - www.swishzone.com



	Introduction and chapter one to be posted soon. AARONMERE-OND BY DANIEL BENEDICT PROLOGUE (R-1.3) Thirteen board members of the Governing Body sat at a high table in a stark over-lit room that cast no shadows. Behind them three flags, black for honor, green for bravery and blue for service. On the table front draped the GB’s insignia, nine planets for the nine races of the GB. All thirteen board members wore their dress uniform of black, green and blue. General Fontain wore the five gold stars for service on his right side. Six platinum stars on his collar signified his status as highest in command. On his left side he wore his Star Companion, a seven pointed diamond awarded for bravery. Only the highest Officers wore the color black for honor. At the entrance, Captain Devan Cane, age 21, stood flanked by the two Special Forces security guards in white. He wore his dress uniform of green, white and blue. As he approached the board he thought, “Can’t even tell the woman from the men in this grisly group except for General Fontain’s mustache.” Devan smiled at the general’s vanity but knew this old man could still take out a battalion. Just then, General Fontain roared at Devan. “Captain Cane what do you have to say about your infringement of code 186 section H 1.4?” His response was short, “Devan.” General Fontain yelled, “What?” Devan said, “My last name doesn’t answer questions. If you want to know whether I screw standing up or upside down or what my comments are on infringement 186, read my 1000 page report. So shoot me, promote me. Whatever.” A murmur passed through the group as they quietly turned pages. Devan turned on his heel and marched out of the room. He could hear the security guards weapons snap into place. General Fontain ordered the guards to lower their weapons and let Devan go. In the hall, Devan headed towards the escalator. A pale sun shone through the tinted seven story windows. Outside, Devan stopped. His eyes adjusted to the bright light as the sky vacillated different colors. An anomaly caused by the dome that enclosed the city. The dome also filtered out ultraviolet rays making the sun cool on the skin. The GB flags overhead were motionless in the still air. Workers walked past giving him no notice; all of them dressed in the blue uniforms of service. “Cookie cutter people,” Devan said under his breath. He drew a thin cigarette from his pocket and pulled the safety tab to ignite its self lighter, willing himself to relax. His two new lieutenants, Zuet and Axeo, came up to him; they were twins. Short blonde hair framed round chubby faces. Perfect facial complexions deceived the casual observer of their combat training. Yellow was the color assigned to androids, GB officially called them Secsunits. They were hard to miss in their vivid yellow armor. Plates of cortex-polymer defined their female shape. Devan struggled to tell them apart, he used their eyes. Zuet had red tinted eyes, Axeo did not. If that didn’t help, their name printed on the collar plate worked. “How did it go?” Zuet’s voice carried an air of concern. She had been warned of Devan’s renegade behavior. He glanced at Zuet, sucked in the hot aroma of his cigarette, held it, then let it go with pure satisfaction. “It went well. The security guards’ missed their shot, I’m still alive.” “That good?” The warnings seemed true. Devan disliked cities. For him, cities were full of unconditioned people without direction. Leaning, rising, jetting buildings; dying dinosaurs creating graveyard trappings. “Bring my transport around Axeo,” He was anxious to the leave the scene. He could still feel the tension of the courtroom. Axeo spoke her commands into a paper thin microphone attached to her cheek. Minutes later a sleek black and yellow ACV auto piloted to the bottom of the steps. The driver’s door opened over the roof, a dragon ready for flight. Devan climbed in and slunk into the form-fitted seat. Seatbelts wrapped themselves around his shoulders and a lap console locked him in place. Axeo closed the door on him. Darkness consumed him momentarily as the liquid flex screen flickered to life bringing with it the outside world. He ran his fingers across the lap console not to engage its engines, but to select a song. He closed his eyes as the song filled him with melody. The singer’s voice traveled deep into his psyche releasing his being to a place only the music could take him. He lit another cigarette disregarding the computer’s verbal warning. He found temporary relief from the city, partly from the music but mostly from the special equipment on his personal vehicle. Devan outfitted it with radios, radar, weapons, and armor plating. His quick rise through the ranks gave him many privileges Devan maxed the volume, sped into traffic and the world slipped away. His lieutenants followed in an official chase vehicle. He didn’t answer Zuet’s calls over the Com telling him to slow down. Devan headed for ZooLoo base leaving the protection of the atmospheric dome. The courtroom stuck in his head. He figured he was up for promotion based on past history. His brave acts, or stupid ones, depending on how one looked at it, often followed with a promotion. At age fourteen he saved the GB’s top two generals from near fatal captivity. Lieutenant bars followed. Three years later victory over the hornet invasion gave him his captain bars. This time it was his rescue of Annabelle Farnsworth, a ten year old child of the GB’s most dominating partners, the Recillian race. She had some sort of powers he was told. Then why did she need rescuing? Damn children. Devan grunted. He could care less about his promotions even though they gave him the kind of freedom he desired so much. His leadership abilities came naturally; they fit him like a glove but he would never admit it. He didn’t think he would get the general’s star. As captain, they could still keep the finger on him, as general he would control part of space. The GB would never take that risk with him. Out of 70,000 ZooLoo base personnel, Devan was fourth in command. His sigh of relief approaching the main gate was premature. Normally the gate was electronically activated, but Devan spotted security sergeant Wilcox manning the gate. What did he want? Devan didn’t like Wilcox, being overly strict about policies. He cracked the window only enough for Wilcox to talk. “Captain, command needs you ASAP, building 141,” Wilcox was always straight to the point, never wasting a word. “Thanks.” Devan knew building 141 housed operations. “Captain, your cigarette.” Wilcox put his hand out to receive the contraband. “Oh yeah--right.” Deep in his thoughts, he had forgotten about the cigarette. He didn’t’ like getting caught, Wilcox took the butt. “The rest, please.” Wilcox knew there was more; even in emergencies you followed the rules with him. Devan surrendered his reserve pack and now had none. It only added to his stress. First the GB, then his smokes, and now who knew what crisis command had. He almost ran over the parking sign in his reserve spot. Devan’s stride was long, but still he couldn’t match his lieutenants as they made for operations. “When you two arrive, tell them I’m on my way.” His crass remark worked, his lieutenants slowed. Command post was a room locked behind massive steel doors requiring a retina scan to enter. The plastic cup was cold around Devan’s face as he focused on the GB logo waiting for the computer to give him access. “Negative reading, please try again,” the male computer voice sounded condescending. “You’re blinking captain,” Axeo offered. “Relax your eye.” I’m trying, damn it. All the technology in the damn universe and it can’t even work right just once.” Devan kept his faces squished against the cup. “Negative reading, please try again.” “What the-------- I didn’t blink that time, I hate this thing. I need a damn smoke.” Devan pressed so hard he left a red ring around his eyes. “Let me try,” Zuet engaged the cup and the door released its multitude of bolts. The pressure released a breaze. Zuet made no note of Devan's sour face as he smelled the sweat of forty frantic people. Once inside, the acting captain rushed over. “We have a situation,” Lieutenant George Undervine said hoarsely. “Gain your composer George.” Devan said without losing stride. He made his way straight to his office at the back, ignoring the looks of panic on everyone’s face. The command room was built as a vault. Thick steel walls lined with state of the art technology. His office was not part of the original design. Devan added it to separate himself from the others. Wood with peeling paint made it sit completely out of place. Devan went for his desk. Papers flew to the floor and drawers flung open as Devan searched for any kind of left over cigarette. Zuet and Axeo stood by the open door with George impatiently between them He liked George, a short man not reaching five feet. Old fashioned optical glasses hung on his face with the aid of electrical tape. A chipped tooth gave George a whistle when he talked which made Devan laugh. George hated this because even when he was serious Devan still laughed. It only succeeded in giving George a harsh edge around him. “What’s up?” Devan said still forcing drawers open. George shifted his eyes frantically. “You know how you said not to pursue Red Tide Riders once they enter other dimensions?” He waited for Devan’s acknowledgement and when it didn’t come he got frustrated. “What are you looking for Devan?” “A cigarette, what do you think? A butt, anything. I’m ready to roll a damn piece of paper and smoke it.” Devan’s frustration led him to jam his desk drawer so bad that when it broke free, its contents flew everywhere. “Why didn’t’ you say that in the first place? Red cabinet, top drawer, under the GB operations manual.” George’s words carried his trademark whistle. Zuet and Axeo began picking up Devan’s mess. “Operations manual? Good hiding place, I would have never found them.” Devan flipped the cigarette to his lips. “Close the door.” Devan sat in his wooden chair and rocked it back on two legs. He blew smoke as Zuet and Axeo picked up the last of the papers. “Are you ready for me to explain our emergency yet?” George steamed. Devan cracked a smile, “go ahead.” “Well lieutenants Roberts and Yates have done just that.” “Done just what?” Devan said through his smoke. “Obviously you were not listening.” “Calm down George, I can’t understand you, you’re whistling too loud.” George looked at Zuet and Axeo for support. “God damn it Devan. We have a critical situation here. Do you want to know about it or not?” “Not particularly, but lay it on me anyway.” Zuet’s cold stare didn’t work on Devan. “Roberts and Yates were in pursuit if an RTR and passed through the First Dimension.” “They have done that before, they never listen to me. What’s so critical about that?” Devan finished off his cigarette by lighting another. “If you would let me finish you would know. We lost contact with them. I think Yates’s plane went down. He was having technical difficulties when we lost contact.” “Shit.” Devan sobered fast. “You haven’t been able to re-establish communications?” “No, and from confusing and conflicting radio calls we can’t determine the cause or purpose of their pursuit.” “How long have you been out of contact?” Zuet jumped in. “Considering the half hour we wasted here, about two hours.” “That’s just great; Yates and Roberts are my best pilots. To lose them right now would not be good. The GB is going to be down my throat over this. There goes the promotion.” “I thought you didn’t care about the promotion?” George angered over Devan even mentioning it. Devan corrected him, “I don’t, it’s just bad timing. We have to go after them. We have no choice.” “You know that’s nearly impossible. The time difference is too variable. The chance of us entering at the precise same frame is against us.” Axeo’s sudden inclusion made Devan flinch. He wasn’t expecting her to talk. “I know this, but what choice do we have? They are the best pilots in my command; if the GB gets wind of this there go our careers. George, ready my BAT7.” A young recruit unexpectedly opened the door. Devan’s heart skipped a beat in an attempted to hide his cigarette. “Sir, Captain, you have a phone call. It’s the GB from the promotion review board.” “Tell them to call back later, I am busy.” “Sir?” “You heard me. Take a message or something, I don’t know, whatever it is you do. I can’t take the call now.”