Birthright: Book I of the Temujin Saga (18 page)

“Isn’t it great?” yelled Quintin, still nodding his head to Metallica as the previous song gave way to “Creeping Death.”

Alex jerked the buds out and probed his right ear with his little finger. He looked at Quintin as if the small devices had just bitten him. “Are you
sure
I had them in the right way?”

Quintin opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by an angry voice from downstairs.

“Alex!”

“Oh no!” Alex pressed the power button on the stereo, cutting Hetfield off mid-lyric. “My mom!”

“Alexander James Walker,” Janice Walker called as she stomped up the stairs. “What have your father and I told you about playing that music so—”

Janice reached the top of the stairs and rounded the corner into the doorway of her son’s room. The twins stared back at her like a couple of deer caught in headlights.

“Loud?” she said, her jaw slack with shock.

“Uh,” Alex stuttered, trying to find the words. “Mom, this is—”

“Alan!” she cried weakly as her eyes rolled back and she fainted.

Alex rushed forward to catch her and, cradling her in his arms, finished his sentence. “…Quintin.”

*****

Alan Walker slumped into his chair and shook his head. “I just can’t believe it.”

He sat with Janice at the kitchen table with Alex while the other members of the TDC stood in various locations throughout the kitchen. Lamont knelt beside Janice, checking her pulse. Quintin stood in the corner of the room by the refrigerator, putting as much distance between himself and Janice as possible for fear that the mere sight of him might put her back into shock.

At first, the Walkers hadn’t recognized Moe or Lamont, but it didn’t take them long to make the connection once they began telling their tale.

“It’s just too incredible,” said Alan.

For a moment, everyone was silent. It was Janice who finally broke the silence. She looked at Alex and whispered, “How long?”

“How long, what?”

“How long have you known all of this?”

Alex took a deep breath. “Since that night I was attacked in the alley.”

“Three years.”

Alex nodded. “Yeah.”

Janice laughed. There was no joy in the sound. “I suppose there’s no point now in telling you you’re adopted.”

Alex got out of his chair and knelt by his mother’s side. “I don’t care about all that. You’ll always be my mom… Mom.”

Janice laughed, this time genuinely happy, and hugged Alex tight. She looked over his shoulder at Quintin, who was still trying desperately to melt into the refrigerator. Janice held out her hand to him; he stared back nervously, but finally knelt beside his brother and allowed Janice to touch his cheek.

She smiled. “You have beautiful eyes.”

Quintin’s eyes glowed slightly. “Thank you.”

“It’s a shame you and Alex didn’t come to us together.”

Quintin thought about this for a moment and said, “I’m here now.”

Alex smiled and placed his arm around his brother.

“We have a lot of catching up to do,” said Janice.

Quintin nodded. “I’d like that.”

Alan cleared his throat and addressed Lamont. “Excuse me, but there’s still the issue of Alex’s safety. Exactly how much danger is my son in? How much danger are
we
in?”

Lamont shuffled his feet. “Sir, our job is to ensure Alex’s survival, no matter the cos—”

“That’s not an answer!”

“Dad!” said Alex sternly. “Don’t yell at them. They’ve already saved my life twice.”

Moe spoke up for the first time since entering the room, “As long as we live, no harm will come to your son. You have our word on that.”

“What about this man?” asked Janice. “The one that wants to kill Alex?”

Moe started to answer, but Alex cut him off. “Don’t worry, Mom. He’s on the other side of the world.”

“We think,” Lamont confessed. “There’s been no contact in three years. If he was nearby, he’d surely have made an attempt on Alex’s life by now.”

Robert shifted against the doorframe. “What’s more, he’s limited in what he can do to us. During the trip here, I reviewed Samrai’s file. There’s a hidden subroutine in his programming preventing him from revealing sensitive information about Alex. So even if he truly
has
defected, Temujin will get nothing from him.”

“See, Mom?” said Alex with a comforting smile. “Temujin can’t find us here. We’re perfectly safe.”

Lamont and Moe exchanged worried glances.

Part IV: The Battle of East Van Buren High

Chapter Nineteen

Temple of the Golden Horde

Gobi Desert, Mongolia

October 20th

Temujin strode down a corridor toward the alien’s laboratory, a folded satellite map clutched in his right hand. His spies in Beijing had brought it to his attention earlier that morning. Apparently, an unidentified flying object had been briefly sighted in a small farming community in the American Midwest a few weeks before. The craft had disappeared without a trace.

Or had it?

The alien, despite its infuriating inability to supply him with intelligence of any significant value, had hinted on various occasions that he came from a small farm in the Midwest near the banks of a river and the borders of two states. The UFO had last been sighted in Van Buren County in southeast Iowa, not far from the Des Moines River, and the borders of Missouri and Illinois were only a short distance away.

Temujin stepped up to the laboratory doors and they opened automatically; one of the many “improvements” the alien had made to the existing structure. He stepped inside and saw the creature standing at a worktable in the center of the room, tinkering with a strange-looking silver helmet. Although he found the alien’s presence irritating, he also found its mechanical ability astounding. The Replodian never slept, but rested in a tube filled with boiling water and drank the same. It also ate ravenously, no doubt to maintain its extreme body temperature.

The creature tirelessly designed and manufactured countless weapons for the eradication of the TDC and the impending war using materials smuggled by train from the Khan’s followers in Ulaanbaatar. The Americans, so smug in their military prowess, would never know what hit them. The alien looked up at him with those strange blue eyes and straightened. It pointed to its work on the table.

“Hey, Khan,” said Sam. “I think you’ll really like what I have here. Check this out: it’s a self-contained battle armor suit for your troops. The entire unit is contained in the helmet until activated, at which point the armor envelopes the wearer, granting him increased strength, speed, agility, and an array of onboard weaponry. I’ve already completed six other prototypes. Want to see a demonstration of what they can do?”

The Khan was silent.

“What? Oh!” Sam leaned in close and clapped a hand on Temujin’s shoulder. “I know what you’re thinking, but this is nothing like last time. I promise. Hey, c’mon, who knew humans were so... What’s the word? Squishy.”

Temujin wiped his robes where the alien had touched him with one gloved hand. “The time has come, Samrai.”

“The time? Time for what?”

Temujin slapped the papers down on the table, and the Replodian peered closely at the location circled on the map. He studied the alien’s face, and when he saw its eyes widen, he snatched the papers away.

“Ha!” he exclaimed. “I
knew
it. This is the location. Isn’t it?”

Sam gave the Khan a confused look. “But the farm isn’t circled.”

“Yes,” said Temujin. “I know that. Do you know what
is
?”

Sam’s brow furrowed. Finally he answered, “It’s a school.”

Again, the Khan smiled. “Indeed, it is.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s simple.” Temujin turned to leave. “Since you cannot provide me with the exact location of the TDC’s hidden base, I shall have to search for it myself. I already know the child’s name is Alexander. I also know he would be approximately sixteen years of age. Logic dictates that if I search the school for sixteen-year-old males named Alexander, I will find the one I seek.”

Sam nodded. “I guess.”

The Khan stepped through the door. “I must take my leave to make the final preparations for the attack.”

“Wait!” Sam held the door open with his hand.
“Attack?”

“Of course,” said Temujin. “I’ve ordered a full battalion and six of your new Death Walkers. This should make for an excellent field test for them.”

“Mechs?”
cried Sam. “They’re only kids!”

“The Death Walkers are insurance,” said Temujin. “My search for the child shall not be hindered by any interference from the local authorities.”

“But those mechs are equipped with .50 caliber guns and rocket launchers,” Sam protested.

“Your point?”

“The kids—”

“What of them?” barked Temujin. “What are children in the path of
God
?”

Sam glared at the man he had served faithfully for three years. “You are
not
a god, Temujin.”

“Once Alexander is dead, I
will
be.”

Temujin turned to leave and called over his shoulder, “I expect you in the hangar in ten minutes to conduct the final inspection of the mechs.”

Sam hung his head and, with slumped shoulders, whispered, “Yes, my Khan.”

*****

An hour later, Sam stood in front of a bipedal robot twice his height. He tapped a series of commands into a tablet computer and watched the diagnostics program scan the mech’s critical systems. Lines of code and flashing diagrams danced across the display, flashing green as each system confirmed optimal functionality.

He glanced up at the Death Walker’s weapons — twin .50 caliber miniguns attached to razor-clawed arms and two shoulder-mounted rocket launchers. He’d named the machines well; all they did was walk and spew death. The robot’s black, oblong sensor eye mounted on the front of its body glared down at him accusingly.

The tablet beeped, signaling the completion of the diagnostics and drew his attention back to the task at hand. He nodded to a waiting soldier, and the final Death Walker was loaded into the
Ragnarok
’s cargo bay.

The Ragnarok
, an immense troop transport the length of a football field, was undetectable by radar or satellites and shielded with a light-bending apparatus that rendered it practically invisible to the human eye. Unfortunately, to Samrai’s frustration, he was still unable to prevent it from casting a shadow, but the Khan was unconcerned.

Nearby, Temujin and Chuluun oversaw the boarding of the troops. Each Horde soldier, clad in new plasma-resistant body armor, received an assault rifle before stepping up. Sam felt a pang of guilt as he watched them. Although he didn’t agree with the Khan’s plan, it did seem to be the most efficient way of tracking down and eliminating the TDC. And that was his goal, wasn’t it?

Sam shook his head and whispered, “What have I done?”

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the modified loading mech walking straight toward him. The robot ambled dumbly on its path, both unaware and uncaring of the high-voltage charging cable stretched taut along the ground to the transport’s power cells. One of the mech’s clawed feet, designed to cling to even the roughest terrain, came down and sliced the heavy cable in two. One half recoiled and flailed toward Sam, who turned in time to see it but was unable to react.

The severed cable, spouting violent yellow and blue sparks, connected with Sam’s chest. The Replodian screamed as an immeasurable amount of energy surged through his body. His screams died in his throat as the pain overpowered him and he was simply held up by the current. He was dying; he was sure of it.

One of the technicians flipped the emergency shut-off lever on the breaker and cut the current. Sam fell to his hands and knees; his body shuddered uncontrollably and his teeth chattered from the surge of energy leaving him. Smoke curled lazily from his clothes and hair. He sucked in a rattling breath as the electricity tingled through his bloodstream.

The shrill blast of the departing supply train’s whistle sent new waves of pain through his skull, cutting through the fog of random sensations assailing his brain. He clutched his hands over his ears until the sound subsided.

Frantic soldiers and technicians called out all around him. Through the muddled din, he picked out one familiar voice - Temujin’s. Slowly, Sam remembered where he was. He remembered the mission, and the innocents who would be caught in the crossfire in order to destroy his enemies.

He furrowed his brow.

Whose
enemies?

The terrible hate he had always felt for his brothers was gone, replaced by deep, heart-wrenching sorrow. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with the most intense hatred he had ever known, but not for his brothers or for Alexander.

For Temujin.

As he glared at the warlord, he realized the terrible mistake he had made. He had allowed his programming to manipulate him into handing a madman the power to destroy
billions
of lives. But no longer. Sam realized he was unique; he was the first of his kind. Out of millions of Replodian mercenaries who had come and gone before him over the millennia, he was the first to have the gift of free will. Sam had a choice.

And he made it.

A technician rushed to his side and touched his shoulder, recoiling as the intense heat radiating from the Replodian burned his fingertips. Without so much as a glance, Sam threw the man aside with a swipe of his arm, sending the man sailing into a stack of crates several yards away.

The Replodian rose to his feet, his fists clenched so that his fingernails dug deep into his palms. Hot, yellow blood dripped onto the filthy cement floor, sending tiny billows of steam into the frigid air.

“Khan!”
he roared.

*****

The alien’s change in demeanor did not go unnoticed by the Khan. Its rage was almost tangible, suffocating. The air became thick with it. For the first time in his life, Temujin was afraid.