Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller Brandon Ellis (ebook reader for comics txt) 📖

Hobbs walked over to a bar in the corner of his office, pouring one Scotch, and then another, dropping a few ice cubes in each. He stopped at one of the massive windows and stared across the cityscape, both glasses of scotch in hand. He took a sip from one, then nonchalantly walked to his desk, sitting, and slid the other glass of scotch over to Drew.

“We have to clear this story with the administration, you know that, Drew.”

Drew held the glass, feeling the cold, wet condensation. His heart fell. “The administration? You mean the government?”

“I sent them the images you sent me in our last email communication. These are highly classified. What you hold in your hands can change the face of history. Hell, the face of humanity. Another civilization, either in ancient human past, or of ET origin, created a mess on Callisto.”

“A mess?”

He nodded slowly, his eyebrows high on his forehead. “Yes, quite frankly, a big shit storm.”

“You’re not going to let this out to the public, are you? You’re going to sit on it. You’re just like them, withholding data from the American public; from the whole world.”

“It’s out of my hands.” Hobbs took a good long slug of his drink.

Drew pulled his folder close to his chest, clutching it. “I have more. Like I said. Copies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll still pay you for the images, but I need your hard drive. We’re going to have to wipe it clean. These images can’t go out without express permission from the highest authority. You understand...”

Drew stood and left without a backward glance.

I’m going to be living under ground for the rest of my life, dodging anyone who looks suspicious.

18

May 31stPonteeka Lake, Oklahoma

The doorbell rang. The doorbell hadn’t rung in a very long time. So long, in fact, that Rivkah jumped.

Rivkah Ravenwood, retired SSP pilot captain, hadn’t left the comfort of her log cabin for nearly three years. She wasn’t necessarily afraid of what was out there. No. She was afraid of what others would see. She had terminated almost all communication with the outside world, and if it hadn’t been for her pension, allowing her to purchase items and groceries through courier services, she’d have shriveled away from starvation.

She wasn’t going outside.

She didn’t look the same anymore.

No one was scheduled for a delivery today. Not knowing who or why someone was at the house unsettled her.

Here in rural Oklahoma, where eastern redbud trees were plentiful and flowed atop the hills around her, neighbors were acres away. They left her alone and for years. So, this couldn’t be a neighbor, unless by chance an emergency. Still, nothing of the sort ever happened in rural Oklahoma, and if it did, she never heard about it. And if she had heard about it, she wouldn’t have done a damn thing.

Her coffee shook in her disfigured hand, like it always did. She steadied it with her other hand and took a long sip. The doorbell rang again. If she ignored it, surely the unwelcome visitor would go away. If there was a fire, she’d hear the engines. If it was a flood, well that would be kind of weird. If a tornado...Heck. If a tornado, she’d climb in the bath and hope for the best. She wasn’t going to answer the door. Not a chance.

Another ring. Her apprehension turned to irritation. Could they not take a hint? One ring, give me a minute. Two, perhaps I am in the shower. Three, um, I am not coming to the door, doofus, But four. Four meant you were a straight-up idiot.

She placed her steaming mug on the coffee table and stood, determined to send the intruder away. Her gnarled hand pulled her robe tighter and she walked toward the door.

She shuffled her feet across the wood floor in her sky-blue slippers. She had a lot of slippers; that was all she seemed to wear these days. Practical and comfy, unless there was a flood-borne fire with a tornado at its back. Then slippers would be impractical.

Peeking through the peephole she could see a man in a black trench coat and a black cowboy hat. He held a manila envelope. Weirdo. Trench coats and cowboy hats don’t go together. Everyone knew that. To top it off, he hid his face under the hat’s shadow.

“Ma’am, can we talk?”

Rivkah didn’t reply. If she had, he might say something else. Something persuasive. He wasn’t a neighbor, that was damn certain, so he had to be there for a reason. The trench coat said Secret Service. The cowboy hat said he thought he was a bit of a player. Either way, the man was trained in the art of persuasion. If he said something persuasive, she might be convinced to show herself. Of all things, her face was the worst.

“You’re being called back to service.”

Was there a war? If there was, she was too old and had no ability to serve.

The man cleared his throat. “We’ve found you are the best for the job. We need you.”

A tear slid down Rivkah’s cheek. How she would have loved to have the life she once had. In service of the country, flying Air Wing starfighters, she could go speeds faster than humans thought possible and many times did. In her line of service, she specialized in space-to-space combat and secret operations with her squadron in the Secret Space Program.

Flying a starfighter was impossible now. There was no point in thinking such things.

“I know what happened to you,” said the man. “We can reverse the damages. We have the technology.”

Her eyes narrowed. Was it possible? Could she be set free from her self-imposed prison of shame?

He held up the manila envelope. “This is going to change the entire world, Captain.”

“Who are you?” Rivkah’s voice cracked.

“I can’t say, Ma’am. What I can say is that this manila envelope contains answers to your questions. It also contains a phone number you can call when you’re ready to accept this offer.” He