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“All right, I confess I’m intrigued.” A total lie, but he wanted to keep her talking.
For the next hour she flew him from continent to continent, zipping often through nether-space while in flight, something most Second Ascenders couldn’t do without causing a severe wing-mangle. But she made the jumps with ease.
Beyond the fires that Chustaffus used to control his portion of the world, climate control was a big part of Third Earth’s overall design. Many equator countries and those in the far north enjoyed Mediterranean like seasons. Poorer regions lived as they’d always lived, at the mercy of the land and the weather.
When she returned to Mexico City Three and drew in her wings, Duncan felt her fatigue. She’d essentially taken him on a quick flight around Third Earth.
“I just have one last question, Yolanthe, something that I’m not getting.”
“Sure, ask anything.”
“Why, me?”
Yolanthe began to pace. She wore her over-dress once more, the skirt gliding in a partial train behind her. He wondered if she did this for effect. Probably. The sense he had of the woman was that she never did anything without a purpose.
Finally, she spoke, “I need to find something or maybe it’s a place. We’re not sure. In our mythology, it’s called Rapture’s Edge and is supposed to contain or provide unlimited power to the one who finds it.”
“And again, what do I have to do with this place?”
“I had a vision that you will one day have the capacity to locate Rapture’s Edge.”
~ ~ ~
Luken folded to the North Africa landing site and faced four powerful Militia Warriors whose job it was to guard the platforms. They had swords in hand and at the ready. No one was taking chances these days.
The men all bore armbands in purple, which the army changed nightly to expose infiltrators. The lead man handed him a band, but Luken smiled, flexing his right arm. “It’ll never fit.”
The warrior chuckled then got on his com to bark orders. A few minutes later, a Militia Warrior came running and when Luken held up his hand, the warrior tossed the larger band to him, grinning.
Luken slid the oversized purple strip of fabric around his upper arm. “Is Commander Thorne in his tent?”
The warrior nodded. “He’s waiting for you.”
Luken began the long, three mile march down the line. Folding wasn’t allowed on site for the same reason they wore armbands. Anyone not wearing the proper color or taking off in flight was instantly brought into custody and interrogated.
A jeep pulled up. “The Commander sent me.”
It was so strange to hear Thorne called ‘The Commander’, because that had been Greaves’s title until Endelle defeated him in battle and exiled him to Fourth Earth. Now Thorne was in charge of the Allied Forces.
The jeep rolled along a solid, paved road, one of many that the construction crew had built and kept repairing and extending. Nothing like solid roads to keep an army running smoothly.
He found Thorne in his tent, bent over a wide, electronic table that showed almost the entire breadth of North Africa Two and the disposition of both armies. Several of his top Militia Warrior Section Leaders were with him.
Luken waited at the entrance to the tent. He felt the tension and understood its source. An assault was in progress.
So, he kept silent. He hadn’t been to Thorne’s tent in a long time. Luken’s duties, until Endelle’s latest orders, had been centered on the action at all five Borderlands around Metro Phoenix Two.
Now he was here.
When the men rose up as one and cheered, Luken smiled and finally stepped forward.
Thorne caught sight of him and turned in his direction. “It’s good to see you. I was hoping to get caught up on palace news.” Thorne’s gravelly voice filled the tent. But he must have sensed Luken’s current state of mind because his expression dimmed. “Shit, what’s going on now?”
Luken glanced back at the men still clustered around the table, then back to Thorne. “We need to talk.”
“All right.”
Thorne led him into the adjoining tent, crossed to a small refrigerator and pulled out a couple of cold Dos Equis. He gestured to the camp chairs and when Luken sat down, Thorne handed him a beer.
