Soulmates of the Fury
Chapter 12: What the Soul May Know
Doctor Oray pulled his glasses off and squinted at the results. He shouldn't have been seeing this!
There were three blood filled vials on the work table, each separated by at least twenty inches. Hand written labels identified the donor for each sample. The nearest was marked J. N. Argus and he had expected to see some interesting results from that blood.
It was the sample marked R. Stoppable that captured his attention!
The tests he was running on the blood samples were what would normally be expected from a run of the mill medical doctor. They might even surprise most medical researchers, considering they didn't rely on what was normally considered science on twenty first century Earth.
Wouldn't that zealot Starler be surprised to learn that Doctor Arthur Oray was not just a respected researcher but that he had been born almost eleven hundred years ago…
…and not on Earth!
His real name, Gahinian, was known to very few, including most of those who would have considered themselves close to the venerable wizard. His full name, Gahinian Oray, had not been spoken for more than two hundred years, as he knew it. That had been the day he was raised from and Acera, or learner to Arcus, a title meaning at the same time master, teacher and elder mage. He was learned in both the older magicks his world as well as the more profound energies that flowed from the ascended beings known collectively as the Effurien or, more prosaically, the Fury.
He had been watching young Neil Argus since his return from Go City. All of the signs pointed to him as the nascent Wisdom of the Effurien though he was far from gaining the absolute proof. If he was indeed the cornerstone of the Trinity, he would be there to help guide him.
The business with the Royal Four of Antar was something unexpected. Oray had learned of that ancient planet during his travels through time. They were mortals like all other living beings, but they were unlike most other life forms. Their planet was different, the skies red, the waters, if they could be called water, thicker, heavier than what the humans would think of. Others could not live on that planet and Antarians could not live on other planets without special survival suits called 'skins' or by extreme genetic modification.
A revolutionary cum despot named Kivar had the young king, Xan, his wife Ava, his sister Velondra and her betrothed Rath killed in his bid for supreme power. Somehow, that had not been the end, for their families were able to capture their essences. They blended the captive souls with DNA harvested from a planet where they thought they would be able to hide them until they once again came of age.
It hadn't gone exactly as planned. In creating human/alien hybrids with the Royal Four's essences, they had created four new individuals, with their own identities, own thoughts, own dreams. Their original memories remained buried and they forged ahead, creating their own destinies.
Somewhere along the lines those destinies took unexpected turns. Even though there were two sets of hybrids, only one set was considered primary. The true essences would only be transferred to the "Backups" if one were killed. The surprise they had learned when the secondary Ava was captured that this had not actually happened. Something went wrong and the essence was diverted to another.
When the Special Unit had first set their sights on Max Evans and his companions, they had mistaken Elizabeth Parker for one of the aliens. She had been displaying alien powers, but it was soon clear that she was a human. One who, at some point, had become romantically involved with Max, to the exclusion of his intended wife. Oray had a theory why the second Ava didn't have the essence.
Parker had it! That meant she had become soul-merged with Evans. He fully understood the significance of Soulmates in the Trinity!
How Starler divined this, Oray had no clue. The man seemed to have only one objective, the capture of the four, Parker included whether she was alien or human. The agent did other strange things from time to time he had no time to investigate that. The FBI and the Special Unit were a means to an end. The old wizard had his own reasons for finding the Royal Four. He knew the old scrolls, he had studied in fact from the Book of Arkon itself. It didn't mention the royal family of Antar by name, but the clues he found there and in other tomes led him to one conclusion…
…The Royal Four would lead to the rise of the Trinity!
Still, he had no way of knowing exactly how that would come about.
One think he did know – most of what was considered science by the greater part of humanity could not detect anything about the Trinity. That meant that everything he had learned as a Terran doctor was utterly useless. It was his more arcane knowledge that may lead to the answers he needed.
It was simpler even than that. When the vial containing Max Evans' blood was placed near Neil Argus' he could detect an aura around both samples. When they were alone he could not. There indeed was a connection! Argus was the first member of the Trinity!
Putting Stoppable's sample with Evans' was an accident, once that caused his jaw to almost hit the table. This was what was not yet supposed to have happened! The sample had an aura! To his mystically enhanced senses it was as clear as day. His eyes alone could see the bright blue halo around the vial!
He quickly set about putting the sample to every test he could devise. Just like with Argus' there was nothing else he could tell. His mind worked feverishly trying to figure out just what he had learned today. Was Stoppable the second corner of the Trinity? Perhaps his excitement was the reason he made the mistake.
Agent Starler was standing in the doorway of the lab, a smug look on his face. "Ben corba den tenve noh yetnu…"
"…Tredo del Kiresmek ban Effurien de'l tengye ert Podondrin" Oray responded automatically, completing the phrase from the preamble of the Book of Arkon. At the Dawn of the Darkness, we will see the return of theKnights of the Ascended to purify the Master. It was the divine prophecy and a phrase used among the devout of the Effurien.
It was a phrase that only a native Arkonian would know!
"I thought you said this guy was legit." Kim growled at Shego as the room filled with tall, broad shouldered men in crisp, professional business suits.
"I guess it pays not to underestimate who you might have hacked off there, Princess." Shego was standing ready, but had not dropped into a fighting crouch like Kim, nor had she flared up her fists.
A set of double doors in the center of the far wall opened and a man who might have been a twin of Señor Senior Sr. in his younger days strode into the room. His hair was jet black where his older sibling's had turned iron gray and white. He also stood a bit straighter. There was little doubt the two men were related.
"My dear Miss Possible!" He began cheerfully. He sounded much like his brother, though the years spent in the United States diluted his Spanish accent to a great degree. "Have you any idea how much trouble and heartache you have caused my dear brother?"
"Nothing that wasn't coming to him." Kim was aware that two of the suited men were circling behind them. "If he hadn't taken up villainy I would never have darkened his doorstep."
"Oh, of that I am certain."
"Then why are you doing this? Shego said you were an honest businessman."
"I am, my dear, I am. However, there is business and there is family and this most definitely is the latter. Your dealing with my elder brother beg the appropriate response. Wouldn't you agree, Theodore?" He turned to his inordinately tall assistant.
"Yes indeed Mister Senior."
Shego's eyes went wide as she placed the voice with the face and body. "Disco Neck Ted?"
He grinned at her almost maliciously. "Why Miss Shego! I'm so glad you finally realized who I am. I was afraid you had forgotten me."
"Did you just call him disconnected?" Kim asked with a confused expression on her face.
"Disco Neck Ted. He's a wannabe villain Team Go tangled with who likes to have his goons dress up like extras from a bad seventies disco movie. He had this silly notion that he could take over Go City and maybe even the world by taking away all the superheroes' powers."
"Ewww, Disco. That's not just last season, that is so last century."
"Oh, please Look who's talking here! An ex-superhero turned criminal who looks like she's dressed up for a Johnny Cash convention and In-The-Army-Now Barbie!"
"Enough!" Able Senior barked. "What ever nefarious activities Theodore has been involved in, that is the past. We must now attend to the matters at hand." He clapped his hands twice.
The main lights snapped on ant it became obvious the men had not been standing idle. Two of them carried an elegantly inlaid table and placed it in front of the women. The two who had slipped behind them were holding chairs ready for them. Other assistants brought forth a seat for their employer, who remained standing for the moment.
"Ladies, please have a seat. Can I offer you anything to drink, perhaps a diet cola for you, Miss Possible?"
"Um, sure." Kim answered warily. "I'm confused. I thought you were going to take me on for what I've done to your brother."
"What? Did you think I was going to have my men attack you? Heaven's no. You said yourself, I am a legitimate businessman. I could ill afford to attack one so esteemed as yourself. No, I am here to praise you for your handling of Esteban."
"To…praise?"
"Why of course. You see, Miss Possible, when it comes to families with this kind of wealth there is, shall we say, a certain enmity."
"But, uh, well, when your men came in it looked just like you were having us surrounded by your henchmen."
"Ah, then my little joke was a good one, No? The look on your face was, shall we say, priceless."
"Yeah, we're just bustin' a gut over here Able." Shego half snarled.
"So, what can I do for you beautiful young ladies?" He finally sat down at his place across the table from them.
Tim soldered the last component in place and Jim secured the access panel. The Kimminator Mark 1 was ready for its maiden flight. It wasn't as polished as their usual work, but it was by far the most advanced to date. It was built in a hurry, using the hull of the original Jimminator/Timinator (they finally settled on naming their rockets after Kim when they couldn't agree which one of their names to use!) and the drive unit from one of those weird jet packs that had been left by a certain group of visitors the previous summer.
The test pilot stood at ready. He pulled on a set of goggles and let them snap into place over his eyes. He then added a jaunty flyer's scarf over his leather bomber jacket. Finally he added the last, a helmet that would allow him to tie into the onboard communications system. Everything checked ready, so he climbed into the cockpit, Tim closing it and checking the seal.
"Open launch bay doors." Jim said.
Tim hit the button. The garage door slowly lifted. "Launch bay doors open." Tim reported.
"Begin ignition sequence."
Yellow light burst forth from the tail as the compact ion drive flared to life.
"We have ignition."
"Power levels at optimum!"
"Launch is a go. I repeat, launch is a go!"
"We have liftoff!" the twins screamed as a three foot long ion powered rocket plane lifted into the air, carrying its pilot on a course eastward, following the carrier signal of Ron Stoppable's Kimmunicator.
Max Evans drifted on the edge of consciousness. It seemed he had been here before. Time and time again he would seem to almost wake up, then would be cast back into the abyss. He waited helplessly for the inevitable, knowing he had no power over it.
Power.
He was just coherent enough to summon his healing powers. He directed them inwards, chasing away the last vestiges of the drug they had been using to keep him unconscious. His sharp mind guessed what had been happening. They knew about his powers and they knew it would be difficult to hold him prisoner without keeping him under. It was disheartening to know how much they had learned about his abilities, but it also gave him a surge of hope that they had not disposed of him outright. In all the time they had been fleeing these people, they had assumed they wanted them dead. They had, after all, tried to assassinate them at their high school graduation.
Glancing around, he studied his surroundings. He was in what looked like a cell save the clear door. Instead of a cot he was strapped to a slanted table of some sort. Forcing himself to relax, he concentrated first on the restraints holding his wrists. The straps would not budge. Think, Max! The straps were leather! He couldn't affect organics! He was held fast unless he could direct his power to the table itself. Try as he might, he just couldn't.
Wait! The buckle! Concentrating once more, he could sense the pin in the center of the buckle, holding the restraints closed. With just a surge of his molecular powers he parted the pin. The strap slipped loose from the buckle, freeing his right hand. That done, it was simplicity to get the rest of the straps loose. Finally he sat back on the table and caught his breath.
How long had he been there? He certainly felt weak, healing powers or no. That meant he must have been held there for at least a couple days. The emptiness in his stomach and the fullness in another area told that tale as well.
Once enough fatigue had fled his muscles he got up and examined the door. Extending his power he felt around, trying to divine where the locking mechanism was. Unfortunately it must have been to far out of reach to cause it to pop open. That left the door itself. It appeared to be made of acrylic and despite being over an inch thick, he was confident he could cut through it, though it was somewhat denser than sheetrock!
He started at the bottom, his hand glowing red, accentuating the bone and muscle structure inside as his powers flared. This was not a power bestowed by his Antarian heritage, but a power that all humans might one day develop. The creators of his human form had taken advantage of the powers that lay dormant. Combined with the powers his birthright bestowed, it made him a quite formidable leader, even if he was only leading a group of five teenagers and one twenty year old. (Okay, that's just unfair, he thought for the millionth time. He emerged from the pod the same day as his sister, why did their adoptive parents make her a year older than him?)
Something was wrong.
There should have been a quarter inch gap where his hand had passed. Instead, the clear barrier was untouched. Of course! They were aware of his powers and had taken steps to prevent his escape using them. The minor victory with the restraints was washed away by concentration on finding another way out of this. Defeated for the moment, he once again sat down on the table.
He also had a severe craving for a Naco drenched in Tabasco sauce.
Neil had a vague idea about the layout of the base. How the diagram had come to be in Global Justice's possession he would have liked to have known but hey! No looking a gift horse in the mouth! Then again, that would be bad advice for the Trojans! Arrrgh! This is NOT the time for Greek-School flashbacks!
For someone in his former occupation, a photographic memory was a godsend. All of the exits he could think of were covered by guards. He knew that he had to get out quickly before they discovered Agent Bedarest and raised the alarm. There were relatively few visitors down there, but eventually somebody would be charged with bringing him a meal or that blasted, so-called doctor would be back to run more tests on him. At least he got most of the electrodes off his body. Now if that stupid ring would come off. Who in the world used a ring as an electrode anyway? Didn't those oxygen sensors just clamp on the end of your finger?
It slowly dawned on him that he was now 'off the map', so to speak. The concrete walls were newer looking, so it must have been a recent expansion. Even here the swampy muck was slowly seeping in, giving it a dank, dismal, humid feel. The room was a garage of some sort, with a ramp leading into a tunnel that curved off into darkness.
There were several vehicles scattered about. Black SUVs dominated the collection, with a pair of four-wheeled off-road vehicles that closely resembled the 'Crazyhopper' Jimmy Argus' friends had used. They were larger, with roll-bars protecting the single seat driver's position, with a gimbol mounted gun of some sort on top.
Nearest the ramp was a vehicle that stood out from the rest, both in style and color. It was a bright silver PT Cruiser. Could it be? The car Kim had parked at his house was dark maroon, but he was fully aware the of the properties the skin of his hidden starship had. It wasn't a big leap to think that Wade might have been able to duplicate the special paint. Once he looked inside, he was convinced!
There was a Bueno Nacho bag in the back seat being used as a garbage bag. It was stuffed full of Naco wrappers!
He tried the door, but it was locked and he knew way better than to try and pick it. If Wade had installed a mutable color paint system he certainly would have included some significant security features. Then it occurred to him. Maybe Bedarest had brought the car back in himself! He reached into the slash pocket and brought out the wad of keys there. Aha! One set had a complicated looking key with a winged Chrysler emblem on it. The key also had a plastic representation of a Naco on a short chain. These were Ron's keys, alright!
The door answered to the electronic chip on the key, popping open silently. There was a low thrum as something in the vehicle powered up. Knowing Kim's insistence on being a friend to the environment, he assumed the thing ran on a small cold-fusion generator of some sort instead of a simple combustion engine. He was amazed she hadn't ripped into him about his Explorer and it's hefty appetite for gasoline!
He slid into the driver's seat and inserted the key in the dash. A louder, deeper thrum filled the garage as internal mechanisms simulated the sounds of a normal engine. He wished there was some way to silence the fake noise, but was far more worried about other defenses, considering he wasn't the intended driver.
Beep!
Time slowed from the first beep. It was an ability that had saved him many times in the past.
Beep!
He reached for the door handle, ready to roll out before the car could do anything to him, hoping the door mechanism had not been disabled.
De!
That sounded familiar!
Beep!
What the?
Beep-Beep-De-Beep!
Neil flushed a bit in embarrassment and relief as he identified the source of the annoying ring-tone. A royal blue Kimmunicator was sitting on the passenger side floor. He picked it up and pressed the answer key.
"Uh, hello?"
"Neil? Is that you?" Wade asked, perplexed why the older man was answering Ron's device.
He was about to answer the dark skinned teen when he recognized the sound of gunshots from somewhere else in the base.
Special Agent Yasmine Reth had no true confidence in the ability of her hand-held communicator to keep her conversation truly secure, but she had little choice. She had to report in. Biting her lip, she keyed a sequence that would bypass Starler's main system, supposedly without detection. She waited a few tense minutes before a the tanned features of he contact appeared on its screen.
"Have you got anything new to report?" Wil Du asked after confirming the line on his end was secure.
"We have one of the Antarians in custody here, as well as Kim Possible's sidekick."
"Is Neil Argus still there?"
"Yes, though he is in pretty much direct control of Doctor Oray right now."
"Make sure no harm comes to any of them. We may have something in the works to help free Max Evans. For the time being, do nothing that may endanger your cover."
"What about Starler. My cooperation here was based on keeping tabs on him. This just might force him out into the open."
"I am aware of this, but matters of our national security come first. Perhaps it would be better for your cause if he were taken out of the picture anyway."
"That's not up for me to decide. I would have to consult my superiors back home to take such an action."
"As I said, it may be out of your hands. Do what you must to protect those three, for as long as you can."
"I'll do that. Just remember, if I'm exposed there won't be any going back home until the overlord Podondrin is deposed. I will be forced into permanent exile."
"Understood. GJ out." The screen winked off.
Her swirling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of gunfire!
For something a little lighter, I've written a one-shot of Kim and Ron on the first day of their vacation titled "Motor Court Blues" - check it out, it's just some nice fluff!