Star Runners: Revelation Protocol

Chapter 9-1

9

The winding Georgia mountain roads stretched for miles. When Sharkey advised they were close, Austin thought he meant it. After sliding back and forth across the seat for what seemed like forever, he wondered if “close” meant something different where Sharkey came from.

As the day wore on, Austin’s head pounded. He hadn’t slept since he’d arrived in Atlantis yesterday.

Was it only yesterday?

His last true sleep had been on Tarton’s Junction the night before he left. Skylar had come to say goodbye to him. She seemed sad. He couldn’t believe after all the time they’d spent at the Tizona School they were now on their own. She would soon finish her training, and he wouldn’t be there to see it happen. He needed to get a message to her and Bear, let them know he was all right. Of course, he didn’t know if he believed it himself.

Ryker would be in the midst of rehab by now, on a world known as Oma on the other side of the galaxy. Austin wondered if he would ever see Oma. Maybe someday. He gazed out the window, thinking of the last time they’d spoken. She had seemed so weak, so fragile on the infirmary bed. She no longer had the emotional wall in front of her, protecting her from the evils of the world. She had gripped his hand softly. He closed his eyes, picturing her face.

“You awake, Lieutenant?” Sharkey asked.

“Yes, sir. Of course.”

“Activate the shroud again, will you?”

Austin opened the glove box and did as instructed. “Trouble?”

“Hope not.”

Activating the shrouding technology, Austin knew the it could not remain on for hours at a time without a source of power greater than a car battery. Even in the Trident, the shroud took up most of the ship’s power capacity. A shrouded craft could not maintain a laser or shield charge for long, and engines would not operate at peak efficiency. He figured the car had the same principle, minus the lasers and shields.

Sharkey eased into a long, winding turn. Boulders loomed at the side of the road, casting dark shadows on the pavement. A red reflector glistened on a tree. He applied the brakes and turned right, the tires bouncing onto a two-path dirt road. Long weeds brushed against the bottom of the car and nearly concealed the view beyond.

“Shroud off,” Sharkey said.

“Got it.” Austin pressed the button, the light around the car growing brighter. “It’s off.”

The thick forest canopy blocked most of the faint sunlight. Sunbeams shot down through the leaves in spots, illuminating the rotting wood, moss, and mushrooms of the forest floor. The car bounced, the tires bouncing into a deep hole in the dirt road.

“Sorry,” Sharkey said, glancing back to the passengers in the back seat. “We obviously haven’t had to use this place in quite some time.”

“And what is this ‘place’?” Austin asked as he grabbed the door handle in preparation for the next bounce.

“A safe house.”

“I gathered that, but what is it? We need to contact Command.”

“I know,” he grumbled, negotiating a sharp turn in the small path. “Part of Revelation Protocol prohibits open communication anywhere but a safe house. These places were set up by the government decades ago and utilize landlines to avoid, or at least limit, the chances of interception.”

“Landlines? You mean actual cables going to Base Prime?”

“Exactly. When most of the world transitioned to cellular networks, miles and miles of analog lines were left dormant and sold cheap. The Legion government has been scooping these up for a day like this.”

“Oh.” Austin turned back. “You guys okay?”

Mom and Kadyn nodded. Black circles puffed under his mother’s eyes, and Kadyn’s burned red. He sighed. While he had been under stress, they had experienced a long, bizarre night. He remembered his first introduction to the “real world” after he was transported to California. Although it happened fast, he’d had Nubern to ease the transition. His mother and Kadyn had been forced to adjust to this reality while running from unknown attackers. He tried to show strength for both of them, but fatigue started to weigh on him. His hands shook as the image of masked laser bolts sizzling over his head flashed repeatedly in his mind. What if they had hit Kadyn? Or Mom?

He shuddered.

After more than ten minutes of traveling through dense vegetation, the path opened to a clearing large enough for a wooden cabin with an outbuilding behind it sealed with a silver padlock. The grass reached as high as the car doors. Tree branches stretched overhead, concealing the cabin from the air. Sharkey turned off the car and the four of them sat in silence until Austin’s ears hummed with a ringing sound.

Sharkey exhaled. “We made it. Looks like we’re in the clear for now.” He turned to Austin. “You think you could patch up my shoulder? It’s burning.”

His lips parted. “Uh, okay. Let’s go.”

“I could help if you need it, sweetie,” Mom said.

He smiled, c*****g his head toward his mother. “She’s a nurse.”

“I know,” Sharkey said. “Let’s move.”

With thoughts of his basic first aid course on Tarton’s Junction running through his mind, Austin opened the door. The quiet of the forest surprised him. No air conditioners or the constant drone of traffic ruined the tranquil landscape. A bird called from far away to break the peace. He took in a breath of the musty, damp air.

He opened the back door and helped Kadyn to her feet. Her face was pale and she grimaced as she stood in her dirt-stained pink pajamas. Her eyes were barely open as she hugged herself, and strands of curly hair covered her right eye.

“Maybe there’s something inside for you to wear,” Austin said, gripping her trembling hand.

Mom slid across the backseat and stood without assistance.

“My head’s feeling better,” she said. “If it really was carbon monoxide, you two found me at the right time.”

Austin touched her shoulder. “I think so.”

Gripping his blackened shoulder, Sharkey walked across the thigh-high grass still wet with morning dew. Water droplets splattered his uniform and darkened the Tizona blue. He produced a key card from his pocket and waved it in front of what looked like a doorbell. The button came to life with a yellow light and transitioned to green. An ancient wooden door opened to reveal darkness. One-by-one, lights inside the cabin popped on and buzzed to life.

“Let me guess, Chief,” Austin said, forcing a smile, “there’s an underground room with sim pods just waiting for us.”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

The cabin’s antiquated exterior disguised the modern technology inside. Against the wall, a black radio with a headset and a microphone sat on a workbench covered with cobwebs in the corner. Two couches faced one another in the center of the room with a fireplace at one end and a table at the other. A green freezer with a row of cabinets lined the back wall near a secondary rear door. The room’s sole window faced the clearing with the Tizona car.

“Cozy,” Austin said.

“I’ll say,” Mom said.

Sharkey shuffled over to the couch and collapsed. He grunted and winced. Austin moved over to the chief and cut off his blackened uniform sleeve. The skin beneath had been torn apart, twisted and burnt. He winced.

“I know it looks bad,” Sharkey said, his eyes still closed. “It could have been worse.”

“Mom, please check the cabinet for a first aid kit and bring some cold water.”

“I got it,” she said, her tone shifting into her nurse mode.

“Kadyn, sit down and try to rest,” Austin said, picking out pieces of fabric melted on Sharkey’s wound. “We may not get another chance for a while.”

“What does that mean?” Kadyn asked, grunting as she stretched her legs on the couch. “Am I stuck here?”

He frowned. “Well, you’re not stuck.”

“Then can I call my parents?”

“It’s not safe, yet, to use any devices. I’m sure your parents are fine.”

Mom returned with a first aid kit and popped open the silver box. “I’ve never seen anything like this,” she said.

Austin remembered his first aid training and grabbed the steel cylinder. “I have. This reforms tissue.”

Her jaw dropped. “You can’t do that.”

“I know I can’t.” He held up the cylinder. “But this can.”

Mom watched as he worked, applying the knowledge he had learned from his training to patch up Sharkey. She smiled.

“I’m so proud of you, Austin.”

“Thanks, Mom.” He looked at her. “You don’t know how many times I wanted to tell you about all this.”

“I know you would have if you could.”

“I didn’t tell you at first because it was against the rules, but later I wanted to keep you safe,” he said, his attention on Sharkey’s treatment. “But Nubern made an offer when I left I had hoped you would consider. That was, of course, before all of this happened.”

She blinked, shifting her head to the side. “What offer? For me?”

“Yeah. He had said you might be able to join a Legion Medical Frigate or something like it.”

She gazed over his head into nothingness. “On a ship? In space? I don’t know.”

“I know how you feel,” he said, nodding. “I didn’t know, either.”

Austin focused his attention on Sharkey’s wound. It took less than an hour for Sharkey’s arm to transition from blackened and burnt to hairless and light pink. He wiped sweat from his brow.

“Nice job, Lieutenant,” Sharkey said, his voice weak. “If nobody minds, I’d like to take a few minutes.”

“Not at all, Chief.”

“Remember, no phone calls. Lieutenant, I did my job and got you and your contacts to safety. You need to contact Command and see what the next step will be.” He pointed at the radio behind him. “Go ahead and use that.”

“Got it. Get some rest, sir.”

Sharkey drifted to sleep within seconds, his nose whistling softly as the sunlight filtered in through the cracked window. Austin nodded to his mother and they moved to the table. He glanced at Kadyn, who sat in silence on the second couch as she stared out the window with a blanket pulled around her shoulders.

“She’ll be okay,” Mom said as she slid into the wooden table. “She’s in shock. I know how she feels.”

He sighed and leaned on the table, resting his head on his hands. “I’m so sorry, Mom. This isn’t how I imagined my homecoming.”

“Oh, I’m not talking about just this.” She looked at her hands. “I remember when your father told me he had cancer. Hit me like nothing else.” She shook her head and held his hand. “I missed you. So, give me the whole story. I leave you at the gate and drive back to Atlanta. What happens then? When did you know your school was what it was?”

Austin laughed, but realized she meant what she said. “Well, part of me knew you were right when Nubern first came to visit. Remember you thought it was a military school? I feel kind of stupid now not knowing this from the beginning, but I was too excited to be in college—I didn’t care what they called me!”

He told her everything. Describing the early days of Tizona and the time he’d actually thought it was an eccentric private school brought back more memories than he expected. He told of meeting Skylar and struggling to make their physical requirements. He explained the difficult classes and how the “rec room” was actually a simulation room. Discussing the Gauntlet was something he would have rather forgotten. But he enjoyed reliving the night they left Tizona on the tube transport to California and, of course, he could hardly wait to tell her about the first time he saw Atlantis and the glowing creatures floating above them in the depths of the Pacific Ocean.

Through it all, she gazed at him in silence. “My goodness, Austin.”

“Yeah, when I was transported to Atlantis, which is a base on the floor of the Pacific Ocean, I think I was in shock for a week after that. It’s the busiest Legion port on Earth. You wouldn’t believe it. There’s a bubble in the main room where you can see the sea life and, well, you’re going to see it if you take Nubern up on his offer.”

She leaned over the table. “And then what?”

“I was transported to Tarton’s Junction, the primary space station in Quadrant Eight. That’s where Earth is.”

She nodded. “I see. What was that Sharkey said about you saving lives? Can you tell me about that?”

He swallowed. “It was the end of my training. I didn’t save…”

He paused. He heard Ryker’s screams on the radio, the smack of Nubern’s helmet on the canopy as the Trident spun out of control, and the fire…the explosion taking two of his comrades.

“There was a girl,” he said, his voice wavering. He closed his eyes.

She rubbed his hand. “It’s okay, honey, you don’t have to tell me about it.”

“No, it’s all right.” He cleared his throat. “There was…a little Star Runner named Etti Mar.” He paused for a long moment. He opened his mouth several times, but the words wouldn’t come. “She had red hair.”