Book II Preview

Boom!

The deck of the assault carrier rocked. It was sudden, out of nowhere, and I almost lost my footing. People rushed around in clumps. The chaotic crowd had just a touch of order to it. Their words, though, were drowned by the deafening roar and blaring alarms. It was hard to even think straight. Just down the deck, a pillar of flame and smoke boiled up into the sky. It choked the air and stained the crystal sky.

We were under attack? It didn’t make sense. Anarakia had been pushed out of Aechyr. Time Peace was cooperating with the Aechrian government, beginning to form an alliance. Everything was settled, the adventure over. We had control of these waters. And what had even hit us?

I looked out across the cerulean sea, but the only blot in it was the island of Aechyr itself. We were alone in the waters. But clear as day, something had exploded on the, uh, starboard side of our ship.

The assault carrier was like a miniature aircraft carrier, servicing helicopters up top, and landing craft below. I didn’t know where everything was, so I couldn’t tell if this was some sort of accident. But somehow, I doubted that the spot three-quarters back on our starboard side carried powerful explosive material prone to spontaneous combustion.

It was chaos. And yet, everyone else seemed to have somewhere to run to. I was stuck, in the middle of the deck, and I just froze. I had no idea where I was supposed to go, or what to do. What had a moment ago been a clearly organized, well-oiled machine was now a canvas colored with confusion. The crews were too busy trying to handle the situation to give instruction to me. I was just a passenger in their eyes.

I looked around furtively for any sign of someone I knew. At first, there was nothing to latch onto. I started breathing too fast, wondering what I was going to do. Then I spotted David. He was crouched near the edge of the deck. Had he hurt himself?

I hadn’t even finished forming the thought before I was sprinting over to him. I called out to him, then grabbed on to pull him to his feet. David was a little on the short side, with a wave of brown hair left a bit shaggy, and warm peach-colored skin. He looked a bit younger than he was, but his sea green eyes seemed to have endless experience behind them.

“What just happened?” I asked.

“Something hit us,” he replied simply.

“Out here? What could?”

Almost immediately after, as if to answer my question, a submarine breached the surface of the water to our starboard. It looked far away, no bigger than my hand at this distance, but I knew it was way too close. Its black, rounded nose flew out of the water at a near-45-degree angle with such speed that it looked like it was going to leap into the air. But instead, it crashed back down, sending a huge spray of foam as it belly-flopped onto the surface.

I was still gaping at the breaching sub when David said, “Get the others!”

I snapped out of my reverie, turned, and called, “Kennedy! Get over here quick! We got trouble!”

Across the deck, Kennedy turned and saw me. Immediately, he set off and rushed towards us.

“What’s the situation?” he immediately asked, and then glanced up towards the water. “Is that a submarine?”

“And now you’re up to speed,” I said.

“Anyone see Randy?” David cut in.

Kennedy had already been scanning. “No. I think he said something about visiting the mess hall.”

“Galley,” David corrected.

“Well then there’s a good chance he’s lost,” I replied lightly. Kennedy glanced over sharply. “Navigationally,” I hurriedly clarified. “Not like, lost-lost.”

Even though we didn’t like Randy, I felt a little queasy at the thought of the last member of Dark Eye being suddenly snuffed out.

“Hey, runts!” came a booming voice. A bald giant with weathered coffee-colored skin was shouting towards us. Thomas Madding. He was already suited up in his Theta battle gear. Thetas were the military arm of Time Peace. The blunt arm. And Tommy’s normally friendly face looked the part now.

“Fall in, now!” he ordered. Kennedy was at his side first, David and I only a moment behind.

“We’re going down,” Tommy explained.

“We noticed,” I dared to say.

“No, all of us are going below,” Tommy replied curtly.

We shoved our way through the scrambling crew squeezing through the tight corridors. Tommy barked people out of the way until we popped out of the bottleneck.

The well deck was an internal dock in the assault carrier. Beneath the flight deck, it housed landing craft that could deploy troops to shore. Looking up, I tried to judge if it was lower than the last time I had been down here. I thought it was getting closer, but that might have been an illusion.

The aft doors were already open to the ocean, and one of the large boats was already being filled. Lines were strewn out to the barge, floating in the seawater flooding the deck. Intentionally, I hoped.

And before I knew it, we were facing the landing craft. David was already taking the lead and crossing the ramp onto it. He immediately waved us forwards. My instinct was to help someone on first, but a quick glance at the heavily loaded marines waiting impatiently hurried me forward.

I clattered forward into the boat. The walls seemed to rise high all around the large flat deck inside, the wheelhouse looking over us all like a watchtower. It kind of felt like being in a large, gray, rectangular serving bowl.

David gestured for us to move to the side, and out of the way of the marines. But only a few had rushed into the craft when we heard a familiar voice.

“The rest of Dark Eye make it?” we heard Randy ask, shortly before we spotted his slightly pointed red hair, swept back from his angular yet meaty face.

“Funny, they were wondering the same about you,” Tommy grunted back, obviously displeased at Randy’s tardiness.

“Bet they were,” we heard Randy grumble, even through the noise.

“Don’t count your blessings before they hatch,” another marine cut in. I caught a glimpse of flaming orange hair as the shorter man handed Tommy a pack. This must have been Happy—one of Tommy’s men who was supposed to babysit us.

“They weren’t too worried,” Happy clarified.

Randy snorted, and then cut the line. Actually, he cut past the ramp entirely. Clutching two black duffel bags, he hopped up onto the guard rail and jumped into the boat. A small crowd of personnel cleared the way as he hit the hard deck. As he pulled himself up to a chorus of cursing, he spotted us. His cool green eyes seemed to pop when contrasted against his porcelain skin.

“Are you trying to get someone hurt?” David reprimanded, even as he held out a hand for a duffel.

“Just making up time. Thought you didn’t want me to be late,” Randy smiled toothily as he answered. He always reminded me of a predator when he did that. His overall build just added to that impression. He was wiry, but with broad shoulders. Experience training with him taught me that he knew how to put every fiber of muscle to use. He was built just enough to be lethal. Not a pound more.

“We need everyone in one piece,” David said, emphasizing the word “everyone” while staring down Randy.

“So you feel it too?” Randy replied instead, easing off a bit. It was amazing how David could get him to do that.

For his part, David didn’t reply but took the duffel bag back over to Kennedy and me. Randy was brought in tow.

“Feel what?” Kennedy immediately blurted out. “What’s going on?”

“Besides the obvious,” I added before Randy could get in the ready-made snark.

“I think there’s more than an evac going on,” David replied. He gestured towards the marines, including Tommy and his unit, who were loaded up like pack mules. A man with sharp eyes and thick black hair disbursed them into careful lines along with the rest of his store of marines.

“That shouldn’t be how things are done,” David concluded.

“Unless someone’s expecting action,” Kennedy added.

David nodded grimly and unzipped the duffel bag. From inside, he pulled a sleek silver pistol and handed it, grip first, to Kennedy. An Arcane Tech Electro-Pulse gun. Or more commonly, a gauge gun.

Even before we could finish grabbing our stuff from David, the incoming wave of marines herded us back. Soon, I was stuck against a wall of the boat as more and more people loaded themselves in. They all seemed to be following a script, immediately sorting themselves into position. I was left overlooked and caught between being grateful I was out of the way, and anxious that I should be doing something.

We pulled away from the carrier slowly, and as we did, I could begin to appreciate the columns of smoke. The damage looked to be below the waterline. I may not have known much about ships, but I was pretty sure that was a bad sign.

“Not much of a list,” Tommy commented. As he did, a helicopter slowly lifted from the deck, unsure at first.

“It’s a Viper!” A female marine announced in amazement and excitement. Claire. That was her name. Kennedy had briefly introduced us. Back then, she had only given a professional nod in greeting. Now she seemed almost ecstatic. A couple strands of her blonde hair had come free from the basic bun, and her short angular face was flushed, even for its default rosy color.

For a moment, I was confused as to what she was saying, feeling pretty sure that we didn’t call our helicopters Vipers. Then, I turned to see she had climbed up to peer over the walls of the craft. She hung from the lip easily, with the calm grace of a cat as she spoke excitedly towards Tommy. She was pointing out to sea, towards the submarine.

Now that I had a moment to rest as I looked at it, I noticed some strange features. There were bumps—blisters at a couple points along the waterline. More than that, the hull wasn’t the even black that I expected, but looked patched. As far as I could tell, none of these patches stuck out from the smooth surface, though. And then there were the silver lines. Sometimes they followed an edge or two of the patches, but at other points they seemed to be by themselves. Random horizontal silver lines. Or were they inset ridges?

“A Viper?” Tommy repeated, apparently searching his memory for the reference.

“A Zmeya—a garden hunter,” Claire went on, still astonished and filled with energy. So far, it sounded like her excitement was making her speak in tongues. “From the Winter World. Soviet made attack sub.”

“A Garden Sub hunter,” Tommy said, the wheels finally clicking. “What’s it doing here?”

“How did it get here is the question,” Claire corrected.

And then I had a horrifying realization.

“Aechyr,” I said. “It’s because of Aechyr!”

Claire and Tommy looked at me for a moment, as if they hadn’t quite heard what I had said. And then the truth hit them. The ripple of realization made its way across the small boat with astonishing speed.

Aechyr, a little island kingdom off of the southern coast of the United States, only existed in one timeline. Because it wasn’t an island. It was one giant Time Gate complex. And it might have any number of Time Gates. Including giant undersea ones.

“Is that possible?” Kennedy shot towards David, his face paling.

“It would be rare,” David answered tentatively. “But it’s possible. Most Time Gates are the standard size, but there are exceptions.”

“I think we got one,” Randy said succinctly.

“It’s venting!” Claire announced.

“What?” Tommy asked. This time, he understood, he was just surprised.

“Look, you can see it. It’s venting the old air and circulating new air,” Claire explained.

I pulled myself up and focused in on where she was pointing. I could just make out little disturbances in the air at certain points along the hull. Like little spouts of steam, short streams of air popped up and out from the sub.

“It surfaced and vented during an attack?” I asked. I may not have had any experience in naval warfare, but that seemed like a mistake that not even I could make.

“A reactor leak?” David suggested grimly.

“Then why attack?” Claire asked. “Even for Anarakia, that doesn’t make sense. Better to just surface and ask us for—the hatch is opening!”

And a moment later, I saw them too. Dark figures emerging atop the sub’s sail—the tower thing. Don’t ask me why it’s called a sail, I just remember hearing it called that and being just as confused. Probably why I remembered the term.

The figures rushed up fast. Their movements were quick and jerky in one way, but kind of graceful in another. I couldn’t really describe it. It was unnatural. No, wait, just the opposite. Their movements seemed perfectly natural for them. But not for human beings.

A few more of the odd figures emerged from below. They looked over the edge of the sail. Some climbed up onto the smooth black surface. It looked like they were considering jumping into the sea, or onto the long hull of the submarine.

And then the gunfire came.

We all instinctively ducked. It took a moment for the realization that the shots weren’t directed our way to sink in. They had come from the sub, but not from the figures atop it. Two of those suddenly collapsed and fell into the ocean. The remaining ones finally found the courage to leap down to the main body.

Seconds later, a new sort of black figure emerged from below. This one was clearly armed and armored, and human. We saw the muzzle flashes and heard the slightly delayed cracks of gunfire. The marines raised their weapons, eyes and barrels locking onto the new figures.

At once, the dark-haired marine who had been organizing the evac snapped his arm up in a halting gesture.

“This isn’t us,” he croaked in a surprisingly loud, harsh voice. His piercing gaze cut across the line of marines, halting everyone they touched. Tight lines creased his square face and tugged at his beige-gray skin.

“Are you sure, Captain Silva?” Happy asked. His finger hovered near the trigger of his gun.

“Answer that for me,” Silva told Tommy, as he focused on the sub. Tommy gave Happy a well-worn glare and started chewing him out for asking stupid questions. And worse, asking them out of turn.

I could feel Captain Silva’s muscles coil as he silently watched the firefight. He became absolutely still as the armored men rushed to the edge of the sail. He was ready to spring as they gunned down the recovering men picking themselves off of the hull. But he didn’t. The gunshots ended. There was a moment where the figures milled about, but finally one started to descend back into the hatch. That’s when he struck.

“Do it now!” Silva ordered.

A clattering of rifle fire down the boat sounded as several marines let loose. It only lasted a couple seconds. Just as the strange fleeing figures had fallen fast, so did the armored assailants.

As the last one slumped over, Silva called a ceasefire and the craft lurched forward. He stood tall and looked over all of us. “Alright, ya jarheads, grab your guts and drop the lead from your pants. We’re going in,” he announced.

Some marines cheered, but Tommy and Claire snapped around towards him, their faces professionally blank.

“The brass wants to know what it’s doing here just as bad as you do,” Silva drawled on. “And that’s no reactor leak. Not with them hopping back in. Something else is going on, and we’re going to find out. So buckle up, boys and girls, it’s time to make history. This is something no one else has done before, and no one else can. The question isn’t can we do it. The question is, who’s going to be the first?”

This time there was a roar as the troops jockeyed briefly for position. I looked around at the insane group. Admittedly, my only command experience involved groups of pixels who perfectly responded to my inputs, but I could recognize a choke point when I saw one.

I tugged at Tommy’s arm. “This is insane. You’re going to blunt force your way onto a submarine?”

Tommy gave me a stern look he usually reserved for Kennedy. “Kid, those are called orders. Better get used to them.”

“From this crazy guy?” I asked incredulously. Tommy was usually levelheaded. “He just waited around until he could guarantee maximum carnage, and now your next in line.”

A couple of marines shot us dirty looks. Tommy looked like he was about to snap, but he just said, “Hush.”

For a second, he glared down at me. Then, he actually smiled. Thinly, but he smiled. “Would you rather they go in believing they’ll lose?” he asked in a gentler tone.

My mind ground to a halt.

He winked. “Can’t do the impossible if you don’t believe.”

I didn’t respond at first. I just shuffled aside before muttering, barely audible, “You can’t do the impossible. That’s what makes it impossible.”

A helicopter hovered over the sub as we sat in its shadow. It took me a moment to realize the muffled explosion had been a good sign. The marine leaning out of the helicopter had launched something down the open hatch of the submarine. This had hardly filled me with optimism about the plan. Last I checked, submarines did poorly when poked full of holes.

The crew in the helicopter dropped down another grenade. Even before we heard the bang reverberating inside the metal can, the marines were scaling the black hump.

“What was that?” I asked, searching the sub for damage. As the thought hit me, I said, “Smoke? Was that a smoke bomb?”

Captain Silva glanced my way. “Madding, keep the reprobates on a tight leash,” he growled.

“Yes, sir,” Tommy said neutrally, and pulled us out of the way of the next boarding party. I pressed myself against the outer wall of the landing craft as muffled cracks of gunfire reached our ears. Leaning in towards me, Tommy explained, “Flashbangs. Smoke would cut against us hard.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my face still warm after the Captain’s indirect dressing-down.

“The Arena,” Tommy said simply, like he expected me to just put it—

“The smoke would break the Arena?” I asked, surprised. Everyone wanted to activate an Arena in a fight. Since everyone was obviously alive at the beginning of the fight, any time someone reset it, those who were killed would “come back.” They would repeat the fight over and over until one side could flawlessly defeat the other, or something broke the Arena,

“But air doesn’t break the Arena,” I protested.

“Sometimes it does. Powerful gusts of wind will. Jet wash, hurricanes, that sort of stuff,” Tommy explained.

“But a normal breeze doesn’t?”

Tommy shrugged. “Guess it’s not significant. It’s a probability thing. Ask an Upsilon. Later.”

He cut himself off as the tension changed tenor.

“How can the Time Gauges just stop working?” Captain Silva demanded of one of his men.

“Maybe someone got onto their network,” the marine suggested worriedly.

“That’s possible?” Silva asked, clenched jaw showing his opinion of that possibility.

“I don’t know, but what else could it be?” the marine said.

“You’re the engineer,” Silva shot back.

And then Kennedy looked up from his watch. “Ours are working,” he reported.

And at that moment, it was over. Silva glanced over to us, and I saw Kennedy fighting to suppress his tense eagerness.

The calamity was contained within the hull of the submarine, but it felt like the chaos was unfolding out here. We could hear the gunfire echoing up from the hatch in the top of the sail, but no bullets flew through the open air.

“Ours are working,” Kennedy repeated, pointing to his Time Gauge. His face seemed neutral, his eyes hidden behind the visor sunglasses he was forced to wear. His eyes were scarred from a previous journey through time, processing too much light to be able to see without aid. And now he wanted to leap into another escapade.

Silva was mulling it over. Tommy looked unhappy. The color was draining from the sky.

But there was nothing I could do about it. Well, nothing except the obvious. What I had already done before, and sure would do again.

I looked to Kennedy and nodded, psyching myself up as much as reassuring him. With infinite chances, nothing was really impossible, right?

“Let’s make history,” I said.