The Lover's Parable Through A Seven World Journey (46 page)

Within Banks’ eyes the continual clicking movement of the hands of his watch were like the beating of a dying heart, the last remaining moments of Golden’s glory.

“Four seconds.”

“I only wish I could have said to you…” Sofia sobbed.

“Three”

“… how much I cherished our friendship.”

“Two”

John closed his eyes, mentally prepared to inhale the deadly fumes that were closing in on them.

“One”

“Good-bye, Mary.”

As if the cries of the sufferings of the Savior of the worlds were coming to an end, the rain suddenly ceased. The last drop splashed upon the windshield. An eerie soundlessness fell upon the city as the winds died off. The heavens above were silently anticipating Golden’s end.

A blinding cloak of white fell upon the metropolis, preceding the thunderous blast that arose from the fireball that lifted from the heart of Golden, tearing through her streets, burning off the flesh of her inhabitants and scorching the materials of her world.

The poisonous smoke withdrew from of the alley, leaving the transporter nestled alone between the protective walls of concrete. Swirling into the streets, the gaseous cloud met with the burning storm of flames and torment that ripped apart the advancing agents.

There was a change that was taking place in the order of the universe. The iron grip of the old military might was dying. Those that had been suffering under their treacherous conditions were confronting the cold-hearted selfishness of the men of means.

As the burning light of flames died down, flakes of ash fell from the sky. The dimly lit streets were becoming a whitened path of beauty, as if they were covered over with snow. It was an image of grand irony, John thought, as he believed the road outside the alleyway was leading him to the final conclusion of his sordid life. And yet, although he was now a key player in Central’s venture, he was still uncertain as to exactly how he fit in to the universal scheme of the ages.

Boarding the airship, John held tightly to Sofia. As the bay door began to close, he was too consumed with his own internal demons to notice the tears falling from her eyes.

The smoldering ruins at the center of the city were visible through the narrowing threshold. It was the pyre of dedication for those that sacrificed everything, even their very lives.

Grateful for the time that she did have with such a spiritually strong woman as Maryanne, Sofia lifted her hand, bidding one final farewell to a wonderful friend.

The icy atmosphere was burrowing itself to the bones as the last three survivors neared the planet known to Central as Black Island. The
Top Man
was there somewhere, hidden within its frozen wasteland. Their goal was to flush him out and destroy him. Through the rearward cameras of the airship, the Savior now appeared as just another distant star, one of a million pinholes of light speckled upon the blackness of space.

Central Command was keeping a close eye out for the Captain and his crew, and once again they anticipated their needs with precision. The air transporter had been pre-loaded with all the necessary equipment, even providing the three-man team with the layers of insulated outerwear necessary to their survival and comfort while traversing the frigid lands of the Island.

Floating within the center of the room while pulling the warmth-inducing, hooded shirt over her head, Sofia unfolded it down to her hips, grimacing under the pain of her infected wound. Tugging at the tether cable linked to the floor that held her in place, her body glided back to the table from where she was able to grab her hovering pants.

She had such a strong adoration for the flowing dress that she had received during the mission on Golden. It was a sweet slice of the delicacy of life of which she was not afforded since leaving the crash-site home of Labor so many years past. A nostalgic moment was projecting from the memory reels within her feverish mind as she pulled the cold weather bottoms on, latching them about her waist before throwing the skirt back over her legs. Pants under my skirt, she thought with a pale smile. Although she was now a full-grown woman, her tomboy ways that should have been far behind her were apparently still with her in heart.

John and the Captain had, for some time, been discussing the course of action that they would be taking once the ship landed. Through the opening above her, Sofia listened to them arguing, wiping her hand across her runny, cold nose and sniffling with an occasional sneeze. Unable to discern the actual words that they were using, their tones seemed to her to have descended into frustration. And, more than once, John had floated out of the room, red in the face and with hatred in his eyes. She knew better than to bother him at such a moment.

Pushing off the wall, Sofia left the upper decks of the airship. Still uncontrollably shivering despite the heavy layers of clothes, and cursed with a headache that would not let up, she sought shelter from the raging men above. Sliding through the thresholds of each level of the aircraft, she worked her way to the lowest deck, moving as far away from them as she could.

The nether storage container of the transporter housed a unique set of vehicles used for traversing icy, snow-covered terrain. Secured to the floor with nylon rigging, their two-seated, white painted bodies were covered over with smudges of grayish cloudy shapes, making their actual silhouettes indistinguishable against the gray-white walls of the ship. Unlike the vehicles from the other planets, these lacked the wheels and tires of their otherworldly counterparts. Instead, they were given their motion by way of a tracked mechanism.

Gliding down beside the nearest machine, Sofia opened the passenger door and climbed inside. Consumed by her growing illness and the exhaustion of the past few days’ events, compounded with the loss of Maryanne, she was completely emotionally unstable, finding it nearly impossible to hold back her tears during any given moment. Curled up in the seat, she could not escape the constant ringing in her ears. Closing her eyes brought her immediately into the unconscious state of sleep, where the nightmares had been awaiting her arrival.

“When will we return home?” she mumbled.

The fluorescent lights on the panels of the ship’s walls passed through the lids of her eyes, unnatural and without the soothing effect of the Savior’s warmth. For all the evils that the distant, empty space of the solar system held, the heat of Raw was a little more inviting than the bitter chill of a completely Saviorless world.

The lights of the open bay doors of the airship revealed little to John of the coal blackened atmosphere engulfing the snow-drifted world of the Island outside. According to Central, the base of operation, or as they were calling it, Top Hat’s Quarters, was situated somewhere approximately four thousand meters away. With only point
A
and point
B
noted on the handheld’s map, the mystery of what they would find at the end of the line was anybody’s guess.

Sofia did not need to leave the confines of the snow-transporter. She awoke to John’s presence beside her as he reached inside and turned on the ignition. Closing the door and walking back to the Captain, he appeared to be finishing his business with the man.

Through the blurriness of the plastic window, the two soldiers were on much friendlier terms relative to the last time she heard them together. Talking amongst themselves, they smiled and shook hands. The Captain was clearly emotional, wiping his eyes frequently and rubbing them on the sides of his shirt. With one last touch of John’s shoulder, Banks, to Sofia’s amazement, leaned forward, taking John in his arms in the same manner as a loving father would hug his child, patting him on the back. Releasing him from his hold, the Captain turned away without another word, walking around to the driver’s side of his vehicle. In a single motion, the aged officer stepped inside, fired up the engine, peered across the open space between him and her and, after a momentary contact with Sofia’s eyes, he drove down the ramp, fading away into nothingness. The lights of his vehicle were consumed by the
darkness.

As John took his seat at the wheel, his solemn expression revealed the obvious nature of the conversation: Banks’ ride to the Island was his one-way ticket.

At the pace they were traveling, the traversal of the harsh lands would take hours for them to reach their destination. The lights of the vehicle allowed for only a shallow view of the wind blown landscape, as flakes of white drifted across the windshield in endless streams. Although hypnotically similar to the wiping of the rain by the blades of the transporter on Golden, this time Sofia was not in the least desirous for sleep.

Sofia was so frail and weak sitting by his side. Over the past few days John had been witness to the rapidly glossing over of her eyes with a haze of fatigue. Perhaps it was the nearness to the end of their journey that was wearing on her, or maybe it was the fact that they were fighting alone. Whatever it was that was influencing her declining health he could not comprehend, but he could see that she was overwhelmed with fear even though they were together, adventuring like the good, old days. John could never have considered that his own hands were the cause of Sofia’s body wasting away. What was happening to her was purely a mystery to him. Sofia was dying. But that was her personal, little secret.

It took a few minutes for him to catch on, but John noticed that he could now look upon his love with adoration, without the burning wall of hate revealing its terrible visage so readily. It was still there, though. He could feel it lying in wait for him, holding out for a drop in his guard. But, it was the fact that it was allowing him to get much further emotionally without restraining, without binding his soul, which caught him by surprise. John now believed that his freedom from the grasp of his murderous training would return. Time would eventually change him back. He knew it had to. But as he looked upon Sofia, her forehead beaded with sweat, her skin pale and moist, he only hoped that there was enough time left in their lives together for the two of them to be happy once again.

Nearing the Top Man’s base according to the map, John killed the lights of the transporter and slowed their progress to a near standstill, taking his time with the last few hundred meters that remained before they would need to move on foot. The faint glow of the outer lights of the compound was just ahead of them. Beyond the snowy drapes impeding his vision it was hidden. He was quite aware of the potential dangers that were lying ahead.

Through the murkiness of the unforgiving storm, the perception of a rather formidable mansion, lit up with the brightest of lights, was now coming vaguely into view. A single structure placed in the middle of nowhere, sitting on a desolate planet at the outskirts of their little universe. After a lengthy period of crawling through the snow, it began to reveal itself more clearly.

Gorgeously arrayed with golden statues and white marbled pillars, the lamps of the compound illuminated the local vicinity with a marvelous glow. After moving closer, there appeared several guard towers, but it was quite clear that there were no guards at their posts, no Security personnel on watch. The occupier was either thoroughly comfortable with his safety in such a lonely, and seemingly inaccessible, world, or else Banks had made enough of a distraction to bring to his position every agent on the planet.

“We’ve reached the Top Man’s domain,” John whispered into his throat mic.

There was no return answer. Cutting the engine, the eerie rocking of the vehicle’s cabin against the wind that whistled along its frame made John aware of just how isolated they were from the rest of humanity. It was a dead planet, and they needed to cross its open waste in order to gain access to their final target.

“We’ve reached the Top Man’s domain. How copy?” John whispered, making one more attempt at communicating.

Radio silence was all that returned. Reaching into the compartment behind them, he retrieved the weapons and goggles that Central had supplied, along with a backpack of explosive ordinance of unknown yields. Short-barreled and simple, he handed a rifle to Sofia, saying, “I’m not expecting you to use it. Just hold on to it, just in case.”

With a pistol already holstered in its shoulder rig, John helped Sofia secure it around her arms while continuing to keep her warm-weather jacket in place.

“Stay close behind me,” he said, dropping the goggles over his eyes and pulling the hood of his jacket over his head.

Following suit, Sofia covered herself in the same manner. She was mentally ready to vacate the transporter, but she was not physically prepared to embark through the hoary weather with John.

Opening the doors was like falling into icy waters. The skin of Sofia’s face felt like it immediately froze. Had it not been for the protective covering over her eyes, she was certain that they would have iced shut. Pulling the backpack’s straps over his shoulders, John approached her from around the front of the transporter.

The mansion was situated on a moderate upgrade that began several meters away. Throwing the rifles over their shoulders, the climb would necessitate that they use both hands and feet to ascend its slippery slope, and they proceeded to move out with
caution.

As they neared the final slope leading to the compound, it began to rapidly steepen. The struggle up the snowy face was turning into a strain on the muscles, and Sofia, dizzy and worn, pushed her body to its limit in order to reach its top. As she pulled herself over the upper ledge, she could see John kneeling down beside a stone-fenced path. A flight of stairs on the other side of the walkway terminated at the front door of the compound approximately fifty meters away. Rising to her feet, she was feeling the aches in her joints that accompanied her rising temperature. Hobbling up beside John, Sofia was winded and feeling ill to her stomach. Her condition went unnoticed. And John pressed forward with the mission in spite of her limping attempts to keep up with him.