Birth of the Alliance Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Prologue

  Visitors

  Cavern

  First

  Learning

  Scutarium

  Shadows

  Discovery

  Revolution

  Intelligence

  Dream

  Power

  War

  Control

  Harbor

  Mourning

  Search

  Secret

  Blood

  Partners

  Home

  Memories

  Copy

  Insertion

  Deception

  Bait

  Darkness

  Traitor

  Remorse

  Birth

  Author's Note

  BIRTH OF THE ALLIANCE

  ————————

  THE ALIOMENTI SAGA - BOOK 4

  by Alex Albrinck

  Copyright (C) 2013 by Alex Albrinck. All Rights Reserved.

  Cover design: Karri Klawiter (http://artbykarri.com)

  BOOKS BY ALEX ALBRINCK

  ————————

  Get notified of new releases AND access to free short stories here!

  THE ALIOMENTI SAGA

  A Question of Will (2012)

  Preserving Hope (2012)

  Ascent of the Aliomenti (2013)

  Birth of the Alliance (2013)

  “Book 5” (2013/2014)

  “Book 6” (2013/2014)

  “Book 7” (2014)

  Prologue

  Sunlight crept over the horizon, the rays twinkling against the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. Quiet reigned for a brief time as Sunday began, a few people rising early with yawns and brief spots of exercise. There was a faint hint of salt in the area, of machines and oil and grease, consistent with the massive ships housed in the harbor.

  The quiet was shattered with the sound of engines from the north, planes descending upon them to unleash unimaginable horrors. Heads craned up, looking around, wondering what was happening.

  Bombs fell from the sky, and the quiet morning was shattered.

  Ships exploded, raining debris around the land surrounding the harbor. The hint of salty air was gone, replaced with jet fuel and explosives and death. Screams rent the air, as men barely awake found themselves without limbs, bleeding to death before they knew they were under attack. Frenzied activity erupted on the shore; sailors stumbled to get to their stations, airmen raced to the fields where planes waited, only to find bombs leaving a path of destruction. Men panicked, and the perspiration came not from an intense morning physical training session, but from their desperation to survive the surprise attack.

  Will Stark stood watching it all, knowing he could not interfere. Hope was out there, ensuring the safety of just one man, Will’s great-grandfather. It was her mission, one he dared not interfere in. Yet he felt some obligation to be there, to offer his own unique protective abilities to her as she ensured his ancestral line survived the attack on Pearl Harbor.

  Frustration boiled through him. He could end the attack in an instant. He could manipulate the thoughts of every pilot, forcing them to stop the raid and head back home. He could intercept the next wave of planes, changing their minds or crashing every plane to the steely surface of the Pacific. Yet he must not interfere. Around him, men and women were hit by shrapnel, had limbs torn from their bodies, died in fires aboard ships that sank beneath the waves. It was a cruel fate.

  He sensed a new presence, and his pulse quickened. The Hunters were here. Whether they’d tracked him, or sensed an unknown but powerful Energy user, he did not know. Their presence added an unnecessary complication to a mission already exacerbated by a surprise military attack. Will’s great grandfather was aboard a ship that had been hit, the flames shooting out the top. He wasn’t worried about Hope; she could protect herself and his great-grandfather. The largest challenge was ensuring it wasn’t too obvious to his great-grandfather or those around him.

  The Hunters’ presence made that subterfuge an even greater challenge. Where were they? He could detect them through the use of his own Energy, but that would alert them to his presence. He could use himself as bait to draw them away from her, assuming they’d figured out where she was.

  In that moment, four people emerged from the burning ship, appearing suddenly at the nearest dock. So great was the turmoil and panic that none of the human men seemed to notice; they’d just assumed the four had emerged from the cloud of smoke. Will could make out Aramis’ top hat and Porthos’ cloak, and knew that a third member of the group must be Athos, the leader of the Hunters. It was the fourth person in the group that concerned him.

  Hope.

  She looked different now than she normally did, opting to appear as a brunette with pale gray eyes. Her Energy was well Shielded; the Hunters had detected Energy work aboard the boat and found a woman not dressed in sailor garb. If she wasn’t the rogue associated with the Alliance, her obvious displacement made her suspicious enough to capture.

  Will let his Shield drop. There was no point in hiding now. They probably suspected his presence at that point. Porthos’ head immediately snapped in his direction, a sneer upon his face. He waved in jovial fashion, and then pulled the sword from his belt. Athos and Aramis followed suit.

  Will ordered the tiny nanobots surrounding him in an invisible swarm to move to Hope, covering her in an invisible fashion, armor that would prevent any completed blows from the swords the men held. She was safe from harm, and now that Will had been spotted, the Hunters would blame him for her survival. But it wasn’t enough for him. He sprinted toward the dock, dodging sailors racing away from the carnage, fury in his eyes. He sent a warning jolt of Energy at the Hunters, a promise of future payback if they dared hurt the woman they held hostage.

  In a more isolated space, he’d teleport there to her side, or simply whisk both of them away. Hope could do it, and if Will hadn’t been there her survival would have ended the efficacy of the Hope-as-human ruse. With him there, though, she maintained the ruse of being incapable of defending herself, an illusion Will found laughable.

  There was nothing funny about her current predicament though, especially when the Hunters threw Hope to the ground and advanced on her with swords drawn.

  Will glanced around, smelling the fear, hearing the explosions, feeling the heat from the burning ships in the harbor. The planes continued to fly overhead, releasing more bombs upon the reeling Harbor. No one was paying attention to him, or to them. He dipped into a cloud of smoke generated by a burning ship and teleported to them, shielding her with his body, the nanos reforming to insure that all exposed skin for the two of them was protected from sword strikes. He heard the inhalation of breath as the Hunters went for the kill shot, waited for the thud as the blades struck the invisible armor. Wondered, in that instant, why they’d seemed unfamiliar with the idea nearly a century later, when they’d attacked Will in a similar manner.

  He felt no impact of a sword upon armor, but rather the sensation of warm liquid dripping upon his body. He saw more liquid hit the wood beside him. The metallic scent seemed to fill his nostrils, and he could almost taste it.

  Blood.

  “Traitor!” Aramis screamed. “How could you protect a human woman? How could you protect him?”

  Will spun around, rose up off Hope, and took in the scene.

  Adam’s body had been pierced by all three swords, and blood dripped from the gaping wounds to his torso. He’d teleported in front the swords meant to execute Hope.

  And him.

  “You’d… never understand.” Adam’s speech was a grimace. Hope scrambled to her feet, her eyes, like Will’s, wi
de with horror.

  Athos put his hand on Adam’s chest and pushed the man roughly to the ground, and the Hunters used the movement to withdraw their swords from his body. The blood flowed freely, and the sight and scent of it overpowered even the smell of fuel and carnage erupting around them. “The Leader will hear of this, Adam! He’ll—”

  “I hope… so,” Adam choked.

  Will was enraged, and surged a mass of Energy at the Hunters, enveloping them. He saw their faces turn fearful, sensed their fear in the odor of their perspiration. He teleported them far away, to the middle of the Pacific Ocean, a hundred miles from land. They’d survive, if the sharks didn’t smell Adam’s blood and get to them.

  “Hope.” Adam’s voice was weak, but his eyes were bright. “You… have a human man… whose well-being… is uncertain. Go to him. I must… speak to Will… privately.”

  “But I can help—”

  “Go.” Adam’s voice was a plea, gentle but firm. With a worried glance at Will, Hope nodded and disappeared.

  “Get me out of this, Will. Someplace… quiet. I don’t have much time left… and… there are things… I must tell you… before I’m… gone.”

  “But I can—”

  “Keep those little machines. There’s too much… damage… already. Too little blood left… to matter.” He closed his eyes. “Please, Will.”

  Will teleported them back to a bunker that he knew was unoccupied, one that normally housed off-duty sailors for one of the ships sinking in the Harbor. The survivors onshore had all run past to find some way to help their doomed fellows. Their absence gave Adam the solitude he’d requested.

  “I have… little time… left, Will.” Adam’s words came out in a series of gasps of air. “First… you must… take this.” His arm moved as if asleep, numbly seeking the front of his shirt, and fingering a chain hidden beneath that Will had never before noticed. Will started to unclasp the chain, then simply teleported it free. Three small vials, formed of an unfamiliar metallic substance strangely warm to his touch, were connected via the chain. He glanced at Adam. “Those vials… they are… so… very important, Will. You… must guard them… with even your… own life. Never… take the chain… off… until it’s… time.” His eyes opened once, then closed again.

  “Time for what? What’s in the vials?”

  Adam continued as if he’d not heard Will. It was possible he hadn’t, given his condition. Will sent Energy into the man, hoping to alleviate his discomfort, help him to heal the grievous wounds. “Second… you must… find… Eva. She… will know… what to do.”

  “Eva?” Will frowned. “But… I haven’t seen her in centuries. I don’t know if she’s even… alive.”

  “She lives… is hiding… must make it… your top priority… to find her… even… more… important than… your research.” Will frowned again. They were running out of time to find the ambrosia cure. How could Adam ask him to stop that effort?

  But it was the man’s dying wish. “I will find her, then,” Will replied.

  “One… final… thing. You must promise…” Adam’s voice trailed off, and his breathing become ever more shallow and ragged. Will upped the Energy, willing it to heal Adam, to eliminate the terrible pain. The man’s eyes shot open. “Promise me that you’ll… find him and… protect him.”

  “What are you—”

  “Promise!” Adam’s voice, so weak to that point, came out as a shout.

  “I promise,” Will said. “But who? Who am I supposed to find? Who am I supposed to protect?”

  Adam’s breathing had gone heavier, and his Energy had seeped down to almost nothing. Tell me, Will projected. Tell me this way if it’s easier.

  Adam did, projecting just two words Will’s way.

  Will bolted up and away from Adam

  It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be.

  Will stared at the man he’d known as long as any other, and better than most. Watched as the irregular rise and fall of his chest slowed. Then stopped. Watched as his face, contorted in pain, smoothed over. Watched as Adam, a man he’d known for almost a thousand years, moved on to a new reality. Based on those final two words Adam had projected to him, Will wondered if he’d ever truly known the man at all.

  It was forever too late to change that.

  I

  Visitors

  1701 A.D.

  Recent rains had left the dirt roads of the young city muddy. Small puddles of standing water formed in the light drizzle that was falling from the sky, dabbing the hair, hats, and clothing of residents out walking in the weather. The early morning summer warmth was sufficient to illuminate the shops and store buildings lining the sides of the roads. Hand-painted signs identified a coffee shop, a tailor, a few printers, a pub, and other businesses. Many of the buildings were two stories, and the shop proprietors lived above the businesses they maintained. The growing heat of the early morning exacerbated the aromas driven by refuse in and along the streets, dominated by human and equine wastes. Most pedestrians opted to walk close to the buildings, limiting their chances of stepping in some of the unpleasantness, and limited the stench to distasteful rather than overpowering.

  A horse-drawn carriage raced down the road, the driver careening side to side. Passersby pointed and laughed, for the driver was clearly intoxicated and had lost control of his steed. The driver strained with the reins, pulling the horse back toward the center of the road. As the cart swerved close to the buildings before moving back to the center of the road, the rear wheel plunged into a puddle, spraying dirty water upon unlucky pedestrians.

  Two of the bystanders drenched by the putrid liquid looked at each other and began laughing, in contrast to others who shouted curses at the driver.

  The man was relatively tall, with jade green eyes and jet black hair now slicked down after his anti-bath. The woman was somewhat shorter, and her platinum blonde hair glistened white as snow in the sunlight. Her laughter reached her blue eyes. Their eyes, for those who looked closely enough, seemed to sparkle with an unnatural inner glow, giving their eyes an unnatural air.

  The couple scurried through a gap between a pub and a tailor’s shop, emerging in an uninhabited back alley. After confirming their isolation, each concentrated, and the glow evident in their eyes emanated from their very core. The warmth generated from that special Energy was sufficient to dry their clothes and hair, expelling the mud and other debris from their bodies, leaving them clean and fresh. One would never suspect they’d endured a fully-clothed mud bath only moments before.

  The young woman’s smile was indicative of one far older than her visible youth suggested. “I prefer that approach to cleaning clothes over scrubbing them in a creek. Do you remember doing that?”

  Will Stark nodded. “It never was a favorite chore of mine.” His face clouded with concern as Hope shivered momentarily. “Are you still cold? Do you need something warm to drink?”

  Hope nodded. “Do you think we might be able to get some hot tea in one of the pubs?”

  Will shook his head. “You told me that your mission will have you spending a large portion of your time here in the colonies going forward. We can use this opportunity to acquaint you with the local beverage of choice.”

  Hope shot him an inquisitive glance. Will smiled, and led the way back through the crevice and out on to the street they’d just vacated. Will located a man walking along the street through the rain, and waved a hand to get his attention. “Excuse me. Is there a place in town where we might find coffee?”

  The man raised an eyebrow. “Coffee? You have expensive tastes, sir. Do you have the money to pay?”

  Will nodded. “I do. My bride has not tasted coffee before. And it has been far too long since I last had the pleasure.” It had in fact been nearly seven centuries of actual living time—since the morning of his thirty-fifth birthday, when he’d been taken to the future—since he’d last tasted coffee. The Purge, traumatic as it had been, had arrested any withdrawal symptoms. He cou
ld still remember the smells, though, percolating through his home and office.

  The man gave Will an appraising glance, and then nodded. “Follow me, then. I am headed in the direction of an establishment that sells coffee. You will be able to drink your fill there.”

  The trio moved at a brisk pace through the rain, which had intensified. None of them had an umbrella. Will felt his shoes sticking in the mud as the dirt became even more saturated with water. The clopping of horse hooves was replaced with a suctioning sound as the steeds pulled each limb from the deep indentations they created with each step. Hope slicked water from her hair and eyes, a task she seemed to find amusing.

  After a ten minute walk, their guide led them inside a small brick building. “Welcome to Ye Coffee Shop, my friends. I suspect the owner, Mr. Carpenter, will be here shortly.”

  True to their guide’s prediction, the owner of Ye Coffee Shop emerged from a back room a moment later. He nodded an acknowledgement to Will and Hope, and then gaped at the third person awaiting him. “Mr. Penn! It is an honor, sir! How may I be of service?”

  Will stared at the man as well. They'd been led to Ye Coffee Shop by the founder and Proprietor of the Pennsylvania Colony, Sir William Penn. He stretched his memory to history, recalling that Penn would forever leave the colony bearing his name in just a few months’ time, and live his remaining years in a great deal of financial tumult. Their encounter here was fortuitous.

  “My new friends have expressed an interest in drinking coffee, and I knew you were the man to help them, Samuel,” William Penn replied. “Given the chill in the air from this rain, I'd enjoy some myself.”

  Samuel Carpenter nodded, giving a slight bow to the Proprietor. “I’ll begin the preparations at once.” He hesitated, glancing at Will, and cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon, sir, but I do not know you, and coffee is not an inexpensive product. I must ask if—”

  Carpenter broke off as Will placed ten gold coins on the counter. “If it's sufficient, I'd like this money to cover Sir William’s coffee as well.”