The Impossible Future: Complete set Frank Kennedy (freenovel24 .TXT) 📖

James named his first son Benjamin. “For all his flaws,” James told the other hybrids, “he was the only one who tried to save me.”

The Scramjet reported in. No Guard presence within one thousand kilometers. Safe to land.

His nerves lightened. What did Major Kane’s report suggest? Guard suborbital movements to the perimeter of Salvation’s incursions? If true, they’d be waiting within a hundred kilometers of the target. It appeared advance intel was taking a sizable hit today.

Spearhead entered the valley – a thick, rambling and verdant forest intercut by small villages lying in a radius spreading outward from the regional capital, Mandewatt. Dramatic red-white flashes lit up the valley from lightning that splintered along the storm front.

Rising above the tree line, now three kilometers ahead, the four Convocations of Mandewatt rose in the style of their Earth ancestors – elegant structures built on axial symmetry to form the heart of commerce, government, and culture in the valley. Per their agreement, Spearhead would not land in so public a venue. While James agreed his presence in Mandewatt would induce the most converts the quickest, he decided the forest provided cover from the probing eyes of the Ark Carriers.

“More time to negotiate,” he said. “More time for miracles.”

Ulrich brought down Spearhead a kilometer north of the city center, along a ridge where the forest cracked open like a predesigned landing pad. The conifer forest blocked most of the western light as they nestled comfortably into the shadows.

James unbuckled. “You’ll be at my side, Ulrich. You’ve played this role many times.”

Indeed. Ulrich, clad in a yellow ceremonial robe over his armor, portrayed himself as First Minister to Salvation whenever other hybrids did not come along for the ride.

James adjusted his traditional, silver-and-olive robe, which hid his body armor. He checked the neck brace to verify that his armored helmet would activate at a second’s need.

“James, I’m leaving Spearhead on auto-spool sequence, in case we need to depart ahead of schedule. I hope the military assessment is wrong, but we dare not take any chances.”

“To that end, I want you to carry a blast rifle in addition to your sidearms. If I learned nothing from the Mongols, these indigos value shows of strength. Have you installed your communicator?”

Ulrich tapped his left ear. “Uncomfortable, but I’d feel unarmed without it. I know we’ve had this conversation before, but I do believe we lose an advantage without stream amps.”

“No, Ulrich. The stream isn’t for us. Ever. Soon, it won’t matter anyway. Time to go.”

In the cargo hold, James offered brief instructions to the six immortal soldiers designated as his flanking guard. Admiral Valentin hand-picked them; each was combat-tested and squad leaders among the child army. They responded with an imperial salute and a red-blooded sparkle in their eyes. Ulrich was impressed. No indication of fear whatsoever.

What must it be like to have zero concern about death? To know you’ll always return?

Ulrich pushed aside his tinge of jealousy. Every hybrid experienced it, but none discussed it beyond the shared mind. The races needed each other now, but for how long? He sensed the confusion; some hybrids questioned the long-term viability of one home world for both Jewels and immortals. We’re few now, some reasoned. But once we expand and they remain the same, will they feel threatened? Will they see our children and resent our joy?

As they left behind Spearhead and moved into the forest in formation – Ulrich at James’s side and the immortals behind – Ulrich wondered about this dichotomy. How long before immortals demanded to walk alongside; or worse, lead the way? Ulrich tapped the communicator and spoke to Scramjet Beta, hiding in orbit. He kept the channel open so they could monitor all discussions.

Wide stone paths guided them. Along the route, they passed intricately carved signposts topped with shimmering beacons. The path that led from Spearhead intersected a wider route in which stones were arranged to form medallions of detailed geometry.

“Shanzing,” James said. “The symbols represent good luck and good health. A relic of Earth. In pre-history, the Chinese worshipped a pantheon of gods. Most were wiped out by the Chancellors’ Crusade. But even those armies couldn’t wipe out these symbols.”

Ulrich knew nothing of pre-history. Though the Jewels of Eternity allowed him to explore vast corners of humanity’s past, Ulrich had no interest in Earth. He was born there to become an experiment then hidden away in another universe. He vowed never to set foot there, no matter how long he lived.

“They’ll make new symbols for me,” James said.

“Perhaps. But today, I just hope they agree to our terms.”

“No one has refused yet.”

Ulrich admired James’s arrogance inasmuch as it allowed him to play savior. He did not, however, like the blind spot James created with his blanket assumption of victory.

Fifty meters ahead, their hosts arranged themselves in front of a steeply arched, open pavilion. Though the architecture and rock arrangements held to classical tradition, these Chinese were thoroughly modern indigos. They wore light-fitting, two-piece bodysuits with silken vests plus narrow sashes at the waist.

Ulrich counted more than a hundred. The bulk stood in the rear, their garments shining in warm colors. Twenty soldiers wearing black berets stood at attention, their arms crossed over their chests, laser pistols in hand. The tallest Chinese stood at the vanguard. Two women – eyes dark and wide, hair like midnight falling over their chest, a dragon’s head lining their vest – flanked someone much smaller. The man, gray and decrepit, leaned to his side and breathed hard within his medchair.

One of the women raised her hand as James and Ulrich approached to within twenty meters.

“Far enough,” she said. “We’ve heard what you can do at close proximity, James Bouchet.”

“You will not refer to me that way,” James said, his tone slathered with indignance. “My name is …”

“Not