FUTURE IMPERFECT

By

Passionate-Muse

Copyright 2003

 All rights Reserved

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters from both The Lord of the Rings novel by J.R.R. Tolkien. Or the Lord of the Rings films, by Peter Jackson. I make no profit from this story and use it only for entertainment purposes only.

Authors Notes: This is my first fan fiction. I know my punctuation and grammar abilities suck. But I would like to ask for honest and helpful reviews to help me improve, though please no flames.

Also, I'm afraid I will only be able to update this story once a month at the moment. Sucky job, sucky bills, sucky internet. But hey that's life. Enjoy. M


Prologue

"Run!" Frodo stared in to the dark eyes of his friend, travelling companion, protector and one of the nine members of the fellowship.

He turned and fled from the approaching Orc army. The fear for his friend, Aragorn, as well as the fear of the ring being taken from him was propelling him further into the woods. His heart knew what he had to do, though it did not ease the pain of his burden. Leaving his new and old friends behind hurt deeply. But he had no true choice, if the ring was to be destroyed then he had to be the one to do it.

He could no more trust this duty to Aragorn than he could Boromir and he new all too well that the ring would corrupt their hearts and blacken their souls.

He also knew that it would not be their fault, it would not be a sign of weakness in them more a sign of the rings eternal power. He sprinted away from the battle growls of the Orcs and the clash of steel. He ran towards a huge oak hoping it would give him cover from the approaching enemy that was chasing him.

A tall dark figure stepped from behind the tree, powerful arms wrapping around his small chest. His breath was crushed from him as his body was pushed hard to the ground. He felt hands grapple at his body, searching for something. A booted foot stamped on his wrist.

"Arghh!" He cried out his pain and failure, as his hand was forced open, the small insignificant ring prised from clenched fingers.

The figure stood up, holding the ring between forefinger and thumb appreciating its bright glint in the sunshine. Frodo glared up at the hooded figure in his black cloak. Mustering his strength he pushed at the assailant.

The figure stumbled back, as Frodo pulled himself to his feet. Pulling his sword he charged. A bright flash of gold made him stop. He dropped his sword to cover his eyes from the blinding light. The light vanished and Frodo blinked away the lingering glare imprinted in his eyes.

The woods before him were empty; no hooded figure in black was to be seen. Frodo looked all around him. Grabbing his sword up he turned to face the approaching Orcs. Blinking back the tears that burned in his eyes he watched the army slow.

They stopped, their heads tilted as though listening to some voice or sound carried by the wind. They turned as one and retreated back further in to the woods.

 Frodo could not utter a word as he sank to his knees. A desperate howl rose from his throat, he lashed his head back screaming at the tall trees. His cry was that of a wounded animal.

Looking down at his dirt caked yet empty hands, "it is gone."  A part of Frodo wished to sing praise after he had whispered the words. Though the larger part of his mind and heart began asking questions, that only made his burden much more heavier. Who has taken the ring, and why do they want it?


The tall figure stepped from the granite slab that dominated the silent room. His head swivelled around to look in all directions of the small room carved from the limestone of the huge mountain hideaway. Stepping forward he stopped at a small circular table.  Stretching out one black-gloved hand he tenderly placed the small ring on to the slab; standing back he admired it.

The sun that breached the few cracks in the mountain caused the band to gleam, his hand reached out as though to stroke the simple ring. He edged closer sure that the ring was calling his name, begging him to place the band on his finger, to take the ring back to its one true owner.

*Baron-more*

He yanked his hand away violently, bringing it up to push back the black hood. The handsome features of a young man revealed in the dimness of the cavern. He swept back his dishevelled blond hair that was plastered to his forehead, the tiredness of his strange journey weakening him.

Turning from the ring he walked from the unnatural hollow. Soon he would have power, immense power beyond even his wildest dreams. All he needed was his trusted negotiating skills to not fail him.


Chapter One

Upper Earth

Earth 2099

Bethany skidded round the corner barely keeping her fragile balance. One hand clinging to the automatic rifle slung over one shoulder, her other clinging to the small figure that trailed behind her.

"Oh God, oh Jesus, oh sweet Jesus protect us." Bethany dared not to risk a glance back at her sister Tanith, biting her tongue also at her sisters askance of protection.

Bethany heard the drumming noise, she could feel the air grow violent and start to whip around her ankles. She urged herself on despite her burning lungs her grip becoming crushing on both the weapon and her younger sisters wrist.

A bright light appeared at the far end of the alleyway they were running down. Beth's eyes scanned the buildings that overshadowed them; a small doorway was just noticeable thanks to the glare of the Searcher.

"In here!" She called out, dragging Tanith's shaking form in front of her. They huddled themselves in close, Beth could feel her sisters gasping breath on her throat.

The white light from the Searcher, accompanied by its deafening noise of beating wings caused Tanith to start moving erratically. Her gasps turned in to moans of sheer terror, Bethany grabbed her sister by the throat squeezing lightly. Forcing her sisters eyes to meet hers, "Hush Tanith"

Bethany would not release her throat, and for each pained struggle she made Beth squeezed tighter. She knew her actions were cruel, but to be captured alive by the Searchers was an even crueller fate. If it came to that, Beth knew she was in a good position to snap her sister's neck. She would never let her sister fall in to the hands of their ferocious guardians.

The light soon settled next to them, Beth leaned in tighter against her sister's form. The wind whipped around them throwing up dust, dirt and litter. Beth held her breath, finding herself praying to her sister's god for the searcher to carry on.

The beam moved on along with the wind and noise. Beth turned her head to scan the alley, watching the litter and dust halt their circular dance from the passing gusts. She peaked her head slightly from the doorway watching the glaring light turn the corner.

"Come on, its clear." Bethany pulled her sister from their hiding spot, her eyes quickly glanced over Tanith checking for any obvious injuries from the skirmish they were on the run from.

"We have to get back to Memnon, tell him what we saw." Tanith nodded her mouth trembling too much for words; Beth grabbed her pulling her in to a hug. She kissed her sisters forehead, "don't worry I'll never let anything happen to you. I swear it."

Bethany pushed Tanith back, holding her at arms length, looking intensely at the bedraggled mess. Her blond hair that now hung dankly down to her shoulders, blue eyes dulled from sights no seventeen year old should see.

Nobody whatever age should see the sights she has. Bethany turned away, positioning the gun again on her shoulder and grabbing her sister's thin wrist. They jogged off quietly through the back alleys of the badlands, Beth looked around as she went. They say this place used to be called London; I wonder what it looked like when Earth was free?

Beth looked out at the burning skyline; a huge dome dominated the skyline. A force of at least a hundred Searchers flew around it, patrolling it. Their huge metal wings and body's no match for even the toughest weapon the Furies possessed.

She hated living in one of the last hospitable places on Upper Earth. She snorted to herself, upper Earth stupid name. She had no idea when they renamed the planet, only that once it had been known as just Earth and the territory they lived in had once been called England. Though that was before the great war of 1990, when the new dawn had come.

Bethany remembered her Grandfather's insane ramblings about it. At times he would speak so clearly, so perceptively as though he had witnessed it. Other times he would ramble on about his precious, to which she had no idea who or what precious was. Yet what he had told her of the coming of the new dawn had frightened her more than the world they lived in now.

He often spoke of a great fire coming from the sky, a fire of such intensity that most who was out on the street had suffered ferocious burns. Others were left blinded by the intense aura of the flame. The free world had united for four years to defeat this foe, but they lost in the end.

Her Grandfather had said that politics had won out, that the leaders valued their lives more than their people and the world was plunged into darkness. And that same darkness was what she and her sister were born into.

Yet hope had lived on. The Furies, the people who had chosen to fight for their freedom, soon rose up. Led by a man known only as Memnon.

Bethany and Tanith ducked down a cracked stairwell into the tunnels of the Badlands. A huge tube train, which once travelled through the tunnels blocked up one entrance. Clambering aboard it they walked through the five cars, it was not empty. A few freedom fighters sat dotted around, cleaning their weapons or talking to their comrades. A few had glazed looks in their eyes; Bethany knew only too well what they thought about- the end. The end of the new dawn, the end of their lives, perhaps even the end of this war. Even she wished sometimes that a searchers bullet would end her daily struggle.

Her hand slipped from Tanith's wrist gliding into the young girl's palm gripping it tightly. No I shouldn't think like that, Tan needs me, I promised I'd look after her.

Beth stopped long enough to hand in her gun and whatever ammunition she carried to a tall slender built man. It was a mockery to them, for she knew that the gun she checked back in would be given to the next fighters leaving for a patrol, or like herself, on a scouting mission for Memnon.

Pushing the sliding door further ajar she jumped down hearing the hard gravel crunch beneath her booted feet. Turning round she helped Tanith down from the train. They carried on through the tunnels knowing each as well as they knew themselves. It was a concrete maze, and there were times when they felt like rats being forced to navigate them.

After about a half hour of crunching gravel and the few small fires to light their way, they entered in to a huge oval. It's floors and walls made up some arcane mosaic long covered with black dirt from smoke and dust. A few hints of colour poked through, but nothing to distinguish what the picture had once been. Beside it was a metal sliding gate, a freedom fighter stood guard in front of it. He held no gun; Memnon's law stated that no weapons were to be carried in the Sanctuary.

Sanctuary, more like purgatory. Beth couldn't help her pessimism, this was their sanctuary their home and she respected Memnon's first law. He would not allow the society they lived in to sink into the savage ways other factions had. For all too soon they had succumbed to hate and fear, many had splintered in to other groups with greedy leaders who would send their noble fighters to their deaths in hope that they would be the ones to win this war and then claim this world as their own.

Memnon himself had tried to re-unite many of the factions, but it had been pointless. His words had fallen on deaf ears many times, yet he still strived to light the way forward for the remainder of mankind. His hope was enough for most of them, yet not for me my friend.

Beth marched up to the guard, slipping an arm around Tan's waist she whispered in to her ear. "Go and rest, I'll be with you soon."

Tanith's eyes gazed in to her own, Beth wanted to cry at the sad empty look that glazed her once lively eyes. The last battle, when they lost Martin, had taken its toll on her young sibling. She no longer smiled, she rarely talked unless out of blinding fear. Beth placed a hand on her sister's cheek, she wanted to reassure her but she knew she couldn't. How could she reassure her sister when she had no faith in their cause herself.

Pulling her hand away she watched the child walked away through a different tunnel where the barracks had been set up. Beth watched her huddled form disappear in to the dark before turning to the guard. He'd already opened the iron gate and was standing aside for her. She arched one eyebrow, "he's already expecting you Scion."

Scion, the name she went by. It had been decided long ago that all freedom fighters would have false names. Memnon had explained that if any were caught and tortured, then they could not reveal the real identities of their comrades. Therefore not endangering the families of those who were still enslaved by the Overlord.

Without acknowledging his words she passed the guard and began walking through the tunnel that resembled some sort of temple or church. Where exactly Memnon got the large thick candles that lit the walkway she didn't know. And her mind was too tired to figure it out. She stopped as she always did at the wall near Memnon's chamber; her eyes never tiring of the bright mural that Memnon himself had painted.

The painted hues had been there for as long as she could remember, a beautiful picture depicting a large sunny woodland scene. The trees were a myriad different shades of green, the bark just as many shades of brown and grey. A wide field spread out before the forest with intricate depictions of flowers, she knew not what type they were.

The mural always enthralled her; she'd never seen the sky so blue. Not even the sun could penetrate the blackness that hung over them so thickly in the Badlands. The pictured always infused her with life, gave her the hope to carry on. Though she knew she would never truly see a place like this in her lifetime, no trees or flowers existed any more, as far as she knew.

Her hand reached out gently caressing the picture, she could feel the rough brick beneath the paints, but they did not show through on the exquisite art. A hand gently settled on her shoulder, squeezing lightly sharing a comfort she badly craved. "One day Scion, this land will be ours once more."

Beth turned to look at him, craning her neck up to see his face. She allowed one corner of her mouth to upturn in some semblance of a greeting. Feeling Memnon's hand slide down to the dip of her back, he gently nudged her away from the mural and in to his chambers. "Did you witness anything tonight?"

Her eyes strayed to his face as he walked beside her. He was not what she would call handsome. His long sleek hair the colour of ebony that fell straight against his shoulders was a contrast to his ivory skin. With sharp blue eyes that when fixed on you, made it feel as though he were dissecting your very soul.

She lowered her eyes from him, taking in the shiny black boots he wore. His dress style was always immaculate, the simple black shiny shirt of some soft material he had once called silk with matching black trousers made from dyed denim.

Beth angled her gaze at the row of seats taken from another abandoned 'tube train' that sat at the very end of his large chamber. Here all Furies came to give their reports, but tonight Beth was not so sure he would like what she had to report.

I wish I'd never gone out there tonight. Her simple thought and the images from not long ago made her shiver unconsciously, knowing full well that Memnon's hand still rested on her back. She sensed that he'd felt her shudder and was pleased when he didn't question or comment about it.

They seated themselves opposite each other in the red cushioned seats, Beth refusing to meet his eyes. She knew that her desperation was echoed in her own brown eyes, though she was loathed to betray that knowledge to the man who led her and the other freedom fighters.

Way too many dieing and deserting as it is. Her cold comfort thought made her mind wander to the possibility of her and Tan stealing away from the Badlands, to run to some other refuge where it wasn't so black and cold.

"What news do you bring me, Scion?"

His soft words brought her mind back from her reverie; she looked at the grey wall beside her. "We saw something tonight," she paused searching for gentle yet powerful words to convey the danger she felt they were now in, "something bad."

It was all she could think to say, for her, there was no other way to describe it. Memnon folded his arms across his chest, she could see the movement from her the lowered position of her head.

"What is this 'something bad' then?"

Beth's tongue flickered out moistening her suddenly dry lips. She opened her mouth to speak, when a sudden rumble ripped through Memnon's chambers. The wall opposite her disappeared, "they've found us!"

She scrambled from her seat sprinting towards the doorway. The ground shook as the searchers hovered above and the howlers poured in. Their ferocious growls and screams making her move faster. She could hear Memnon's booted feet pounding behind her as they ran in to the tunnel. Swiftly turning left, a long black object was thrown her way, catching it deftly with practiced ease Beth turned in mid-stride without losing a beat.

Pulling the trigger she started firing at the howlers, most were equal to her in height yet they hunched themselves over appearing smaller. Their grotesque flat faces with sharp teeth springing up behind thin lips; nobody knew where these creatures had truly come from. Though they could speak their language, they certainly resembled no human.

More booming sounds echoed around them, shouts warning that the entrance had been breached as well made Beth look at Memnon. Hoping for some silent command.

"Blade, Wing. Code Ninety-Nine!"

Memnon shouted out his orders, the two men ran onto the tracks away from the train that was still blocking the breached entrance. Memnon signalled for them both to fall back, the dwindling hoard of Howlers lessening with each bullet fired.

Beth could not understand the mentality of these creatures, there black bodies showed no signs of protection from their hail of ammo. And the Howlers only carried bows, arrows, swords or spears.

Though she knew if they got close to you, then a gun was ineffective. For what they lacked in modern weaponry they made up for in speed and ferocity.

A figure suddenly darted around the corner of another tunnel of their warren; it pressed itself firmly against Beth's back. Beth breathed a gasp of sheer relief, Tanith she's safe.

Beth saw the two men appear again, she slapped her hand against Memnon's arm. He moved with the same cat like movements she did. Both continuously picking off the Howlers with single bullets aimed with a well-gleamed precision.

All three turned and fled, hearing the other freedom fighters behind them. A huge boom resounded all around them; the ground shook with the force of the great explosion.

Beth felt Tanith wobble then go down hard on to the gravel. Grabbing her arm she pulled the teen to her feet, supporting her as they ran. The dim light that was in the tunnel began to fade as the tunnel sealed up behind them from their emergency back up in case of an attack like this.

They could hear gunshots as some of the Howlers had followed them in, but a cool breeze told them to keep running, as they would soon be at the next station, and their next hideout.

All freedom fighters huddled into a group racing down the left track; the whizzing streaks of bullets passing them did not slow their gait. They instead welcomed the freedom fighters up ahead that were picking off the few Howlers who were still chasing them.

Nearly there, we're nearly there! Beth felt her adrenalin pump faster, nearing the bright light. Tanith stiffened suddenly. Her back arching as she screamed in Beth's ear. The dead weight of Tanith pulled Beth to the ground; she felt her face hit the gravel feeling it sheer against her cheek.

She kneeled up, looking at her sister. A long black arrow protruded from her back, near her shoulder. No, please no, not her. Beth forced herself to stay calm; she could hear the Howlers approaching her. Trusting in her faith of her comrades in arms to see her safely from the tunnel, she pulled at Tanith's body. Hoisting her up on one shoulder, she managed to stumble the last few metres to safety.

She couldn't see anything on her right, Tan's body blocking her view. But she heard the bullets impacting in to flesh that were far too close to her. She heard the bodies fall beside her, only to be replaced by one more.

Her strength was waning, sheer exhaustion taking over. I have to make this, hang on sweetie, please. I'll make it. I will make it!

She broke in to the light and in to the arms of the field medics. They quickly pulled Tanith from her and rushed away with her limp body. Beth slumped to all fours, her strength and determination giving up for the night.

She heard the gunfire stop, knowing the Howlers had been taken care of. A loud crunch rang out next to her; Memnon's boots came in to her blurred field of vision.

"What was the, something Bad you wanted to tell me?"

She gasped for breath, choking out her words. "I saw a large deployment of Howlers come in to the Badlands. I got the feeling they were looking for the hideout. But I think that news is old hat now.

Memnon's baritone laugh echoed round the station, "well even if I'd known, I don't think it would have made much of a difference to the outcome of this skirmish."

Memnon's voice was suddenly in her ear, "we survived Scion. We made it through another attack, now does that give you a little more hope."

Beth wanted to say no, Tanith had been injured. She just hoped the wound wasn't deep enough to sever nerves, or worse. "Hope? Memnon, I've discovered we each make our own hope, and right now mines in casualty."

She struggled to her feet, not asking or expecting any help from Memnon or any of the other freedom fighters. The light stench of the Howlers drifted to her nostrils, she wrinkled her face in disgust. "Why can't those guys take a bath once a year."

She heard the few mumbles of laughter from everyone behind her, as she forced her cramped, exhausted legs to take her to where her sister was.