Legends of Origin 2: Orion's Harvesters

By Vanessa Finaughty

Two months after Liam MacAskill’s return to Earth from Tridor Monastery, a portal opens in Orion’s Nebula, and a continent-sized spaceship emerges. It heads for Earth, where it hovers over Africa. Shortly thereafter, a second alien species comes through the portal. Then impossibility becomes reality – the second species steals Earth’s sun.

The first species, the T’Acan – or Harvesters, as some call them – seem friendly enough, but Liam suspects they are omitting something about their reasons for visiting Earth, which seem lame to him. It doesn’t take Liam long to discover what... They have to be stopped, but how to stop an invincible enemy?

Air force and military attacks have no effect on the T’Acan spaceship, but Earth has a secret defence not even the military are aware of – a powerful weapon that harnesses ley line energy, kept hidden by warrior monks since humanity’s beginnings. It could save Earth when even nuclear weapons would fail... but will it be enough to drive the T’Acan harvesters away, and will the untested weapon work the way they hope?

Will Liam succeed in aiding the warrior monks’ efforts, or will he merely create more casualties? Is Liam’s friend, Jack, right to distrust the little blue alien they meet on the T’Acan ship, or is Liam’s trust going to be betrayed again? As Liam races against time to warn Arthean that Tridor’s Earth may be in the same danger, even he isn’t sure he’ll make it in time.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vanessa Finaughty
• Release date: Jun 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476248158

Vanessa Finaughty

Vanessa grew up in Cape Town, and still lives there with her husband of fifteen years, her baby daughter and plenty of furry, four-legged ‘children’. Her passion for the written word started her career as an editor and copywriter, and she part-ran a writers’ critique group for close on seven years. She's been writing ever since she learnt how, has always been an avid reader, and currently lives on coffee and cigarettes. Her interests include reading, photography, the supernatural, life's mysteries and martial arts, of which she has five years’ experience. Review copies of all Vanessa's books are available upon request, and fans are welcome to email her at [e-mail] - she loves to hear any type of feedback and answers all emails personally. *** Please note that Vanessa uses UK spelling and grammar, which is not always the same as US spelling and grammar.

Book preview

LEGENDS OF ORIGIN

BOOK 2

Orion’s Harvesters

Vanessa Finaughty

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Vanessa Finaughty

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Many thanks to:

My editor, best friend and author of The Queen’s Blade fantasy series, T.C. Southwell, for your input and editing skills.

My beta readers, for your valuable feedback: my husband, Alaric Finaughty; Ryan Echtinaw; fellow authors Aneza Lee (The Harpy Chronicles) and Gayle Ramage (Quality Times: The Whispering Tombs), and my other best friend (yes, I have more than one; sue me), CherokeeRose Carroll.

Alphya Cing (Vexyna’s Awakening) from Darla Mittler Virtual Services for formatting my TOC – something I’m useless at.

Steve Kortenkamp, senior scientist at the Planetary Scientist Institution in Tucson, Arizona, for helping me to make theoretical scenarios sound more plausible with the invaluable information you provided me with during our interview, much of which will be used in future books in this series.

The artist at krwgraphics.com who created the alien on my front cover – unfortunately, I’m unable to name you, as your website domain has expired since I downloaded your free royalty-free image.

NASA for the use of your public domain picture of Orion’s Belt, used as the cover background.

Last, but not least, a special thanks to every reader who enjoyed Book 1, Sanctuary for the Devil, enough to purchase Book 2.

LEGENDS OF ORIGIN

BOOK 2

Orion’s Harvesters

Vanessa Finaughty

Coming face to face with your Creator, would you remain a loyal worshipper even if that Creator was the opposite of what you expected?

"We finally created a being suitable for our purposes. We have left the new species to breed outside the holy garden, for we do not want them tainted by the power of the Almighty. When the time is right, we will return to claim what is ours."

Ancient T’Acan history file found on T’Acan ship computer

CHAPTER 1

Vareck Altard ran his hand over the ancient weapon’s smooth copper surface, lifting his gaze to where it rose to almost touch the cavern’s seven-storey-high ceiling and visualising the old-fashioned gears inside its cylindrical body. All he could see of it from ground level was its thick copper casing – thicker than four men standing side by side – rising into blackness, but he had done enough maintenance work on the flat, round dish at its tip to visualise the DNA helix-like structure that rose from the dish and from which unbounded energy would be discharged when it was fired. He pitied anyone at which the weapon was aimed, for it was said to boast at least three times the power of a nuclear one. Only a select group knew of its existence, and most of that group’s members didn’t know its location. The world would soon know both those things… when Vareck and his brothers turned the giant machine on and used it against their enemies. It had been a long time coming, and they were all as relieved as they were terrified. Their enemy was not one to be trifled with, but neither were they. Their ancestors had warned them that they would be left with no choice but to fight, and they already knew the truth in that, because everything else their ancestors had predicted up until this date, December 21, 2012, had come to pass. They had to strike first, or they wouldn’t stand a chance.

Vareck and his brothers suspected their enemy was responsible for the recent spate of baby killings across the planet, and were eager to be rid of them once and for all – perhaps with their precious masters defeated, they would lose the will to follow any who came after. It wasn’t as if Vareck and the others were completely innocent of wrongdoing, or anywhere close to it, in some cases, but none would murder a defenceless baby – the fact that their enemies were slaying babies in preparation for their masters’ coming instilled a greater itch than usual to get it over with and kill the lot of them. Vareck hoped the added eagerness wouldn’t cause fatal mistakes in judgement on their part.

Cold, dark eyes marked by stress lines looked back at Vareck when he stared at his reflection in the weapon’s surface. Stubble covered his chin, and unruly brown hair that was too long for his liking rested on his shirt collar. He needed a break, badly. He hoped he might be able to retire by the time this was over, though a horrible clenching in his gut told him the ‘fun’ would only just begin once the long-awaited enemy was overcome, or at least chased away. Others would follow, and then what? They would not be as easily defeated without the benefit of surprise. That was assuming it would be easy the first time.

A moving shadow reflected in the weapon’s shiny surface caught Vareck’s attention. Intense survival training kept him physically relaxed so as not to alert the intruder that his presence was known, though Vareck’s mind was anything but relaxed. It wasn’t one of his brothers – none of the other nine who knew the weapon’s hiding place were scheduled to be there, and they would have announced themselves if they had come for some reason. He casually reached beneath his black leather jacket for the knife sheathed on his jeans belt. Slight relief passed over him when his fingers closed over the reassuring coldness of the weapon’s smooth hilt.

Vareck watched the reflected shadow as it drew closer behind him. There was only one lot of people who would dare attack one of Vareck’s kind, only one who could possibly have discovered this place – a deluded group that believed the enemy was a saviour and who would stop at nothing to destroy the ancient weapon.

The baby killers.

Vareck frowned. He’d been certain he hadn’t been followed, but how else could the intruder have found the place? Had his exhaustion made him careless?

Three paces away.

Two.

One.

Vareck slid the knife from its sheath and spun to face the intruder, thrusting the long blade upwards through his hooded attacker’s ribcage and into his heart. The intruder’s dagger clattered to the ground as he stared wide-eyed at Vareck, then he dropped when Vareck yanked the knife out. He bent and turned the dead man onto his back. Bruises and cuts covered the blonde intruder’s knuckles – a man clearly used to violence.

Vareck shook his head. Had they really thought it would be that easy to kill a warrior monk? A search of the black-clothed intruder’s pockets revealed nothing of interest. The blond man’s double-edged blade, however, told Vareck exactly who he was and what his purpose had been. Vareck pressed a small knob where the hilt met the blade, and a sharp spike shot out of the hilt’s end and opened into a miniature grappling hook with eight piercing prongs, intended to rip victims’ flesh as it was pulled out. Vareck winced at the thought. The black and red hilt was made of a substance he recognised as magsteklite – not found naturally on Planet Earth.

Vareck’s lip curled in distaste as he stood over the corpse of a man who had probably murdered babies, then he sheathed his knife and walked behind the ancient weapon, where an internal phone hung on the wall. He pushed three numbers for the extension he wanted. Fellow warrior monk Jacques de Tremelay answered on the second ring.

They’ve found it, Vareck said.

What? Where are you?

Standing over the body next to the weapon.

Jacques was silent for a moment. Just one?

Unease creeping up his spine, Vareck glanced around the shadowy cavern, his eyes lingering on the dark corners where the wall torches’ light failed to reach. Perhaps. He hesitated. Probably not.

You know what this means, Jacques said.

Yes. Gather the others and fill them in on the way here.

Give us half an hour.

I’m not sure we have that long. Vareck hung up and scanned the cavern again.

The wannabe assassin had surely not been foolish enough to come alone, nor would his superiors have given the order to do so. It was too much to hope that the blond man had disobeyed orders. Others would come… if they hadn’t already.

Vareck strode over to the far wall and waded into the shallow pool that lined it without bothering to remove his shoes or roll up his jeans. He doubted he had time for luxuries like dry clothes. When he reached the wall, he grasped a lever designed to look like a rock protrusion and pulled down, opening a hidden panel from where he could control the underground complex’s doors. He pushed a few buttons on the panel, shutting the mountaintop entrance’s second defence door; he didn’t bother closing the first door, since anyone who might already be inside obviously knew how to open it. Now, his enemies were either trapped inside with him, or would have to waste time trying to find another entrance – and it was doubtful they’d get that far, since the only other entrance was deep inside Vareck’s headquarters, at least a kilometre below the cavern, and an intruder would have to get past a few thousand warrior monks to get to Vareck via that route.

Jacques and his brothers were in the control room below, but the tunnels leading to the ancient weapon were well hidden and did not lead directly to it. Though Jacques knew the way, it was filled with traps he would have to stop and disable in order to pass, which would delay him considerably. Whoever’s turn it was to guard the machine usually entered through the secret tunnel via the mountaintop, where there were no traps, but the way was barred by a thick steel door that required fingerprint and retina identification. The high-tech entrance security was courtesy of an old friend who had since gone into hiding to avoid being imprisoned for its theft – sadly, before he’d had a chance to install modern lighting too. To reach the entrance, one had to hike a few kilometres to the mountain’s edge, then climb down a few metres. The headquarters’ only other exit was on the mountaintop, too far away from the mountain face entrance for Jacques to use it to reach Vareck in time if the enemy was already inside.

Vareck pushed a few more buttons and another panel slid open, this one set deeper into the rock face to make room for the security monitors it contained. He scanned the tunnel network leading to the weapon cavern. Every tunnel was empty, save for the shadows cast by the wall torches’ flickering flames.

On one of the screens, a larger shadow flickered briefly as it passed under a security camera two passages away. Vareck tensed. There was still a chance the intruder would turn down a wrong tunnel. Please, God…

Another shadow blurred past the camera. Then another. Vareck scanned the other screens again. It seemed there were only three more Harvester lovers to do away with. He realised with relief that it must be a scouting party that had perhaps only just found the weapon. They may not have even had time to advise their superiors yet. Please, God…

Vareck waded out of the water and removed his shoes to avoid the noise they’d make as he walked – he was quicker on his feet barefoot, anyway. He moved around the cavern, extinguishing all the torches except those near the entrance – his enemy had no way of knowing how well lighted the cavern usually was, so the lack of light was unlikely to draw suspicion. He moved back to the corpse and dragged it closer to the entrance, leaving it shrouded in darkness. Hopefully at least one of the intruders would trip over it and even the odds, even if only for a few seconds. He slipped into the shadows near the entrance, pressed his back against the cold, uneven wall, unsheathed his knife and waited.

Jacques and the others would not arrive in time – the fight was Vareck’s alone, and Planet Earth could not afford for him to lose.

<><><>

Vareck’s keen senses alerted him to the shadows near the cavern’s entrance as they shifted so slightly that most would have assumed it to be a trick of light. Keeping himself calm and focussed with long, deep breaths, he watched. A few long seconds later, perhaps having assumed the cavern was devoid of life, the first intruder moved partially into the light, scanning the interior before motioning to his comrades to follow.

All three black-clothed, hooded intruders stepped fully into the light as they moved into the cavern a few paces from Vareck’s hiding place. They gazed around, probably looking for anything that might look like the ancient weapon, though they didn’t have a clue what it looked like, as far as Vareck knew. Without the light, it would remain hidden unless they literally walked into it. Vareck intended to make sure they didn’t get that close.

The fact that the intruders exposed their positions for so long displayed an annoying cocksureness, though Vareck told himself it could just be that they thought their friend had already investigated this cavern and moved on. The monk’s hopes rose. With a little luck, they wouldn’t deem it necessary to wander around in the dark and would just leave, then he could follow them on camera until Jacques and the others arrived. As much as he was willing to fight them, he wasn’t convinced he could win. Three against one – as well trained and capable as Vareck was, he knew the Harvester lovers were equally so.

The three men spread out, two stopping at the light’s edge and the third blending into the darkness as he walked towards Vareck.

The monk held his breath and tensed, ready to slash the intruder’s vocal chords before he could cry out. They were about the same size, so, with a little luck and a few answered prayers, Vareck could possibly down the man without a sound, leaving his two comrades none the wiser to his fate.

The man stopped, so close to Vareck that the monk could feel his presence, like some dark, looming something that one tried to avoid even though you knew it was impossible. Boots scuffed rock as the man turned and walked back into the lighted area. Vareck let out a slow breath.

There’s nothing here, the man whispered. Let’s try further down the other passage.

Then why’s this entrance lighted? another asked.

Stupid. Vareck would have been better off leaving the cavern in complete darkness. What a stupid mistake to make when mistakes could least be afforded. In a dark cavern, he would have had another much-needed advantage over them too, since his eyes would have had time to adjust to the dark by the time they arrived.

The first speaker surveyed the darkness. Who knows? To throw intruders off the trail, maybe.

Yes, think that, you rotten excuse for a human.

Where’s Des? the third asked.

So that was the dead guy’s name…

Probably realised there’s nothing here and moved on.

The third man raised an eyebrow. We’ve come too far not to be thorough.

Vareck groaned inwardly. Too many Harvester lovers were the real deal – too dedicated to their twisted cause to be lazy in their search for the ultimate weapon. Typical that he’d be stuck with these, rather than the type who merely played the part due to their love of being a part of something secret.

The men each grabbed a torch from the wall, leaving only one to light the entrance. Cold sweat stuck Vareck’s dark blue shirt to his back as he realised what a fool he’d been to leave four torches burning. Now, they would probably see him the moment they neared. He pressed his back harder against the rocky wall, sucking in his stomach as the light swept too close for comfort. His knife’s blade scraped against the rock. Another mistake.

God, help me.

The three intruders spun in Vareck’s direction, peering into the darkness. Thankfully, the way noises echoed in the cavern, it wasn’t clear to them exactly where the sound had come from, and they moved slightly to his right, hooked knives at the ready. If just one of those hooks sank into the wrong body part, he was as good as dead. He expected a pleasant afterlife, but wasn’t ready to claim it yet.

Too afraid to wipe sweaty palms on his jeans lest the movement give away his position, Vareck watched the men reach the wall and fan out along it, two heading right for him. The warrior monk steeled himself.

Five more steps and he’d be exposed.

Four more steps.

Three more.

Vareck took a deep, calming breath.

Two more.

Vareck gripped his knife harder.

God, help me.

One more.

Vareck stepped forward and slammed his fist into the intruder’s Adam’s apple.

The man made a strangled sound as he doubled over clutching his throat, his dagger and the torch falling with a clatter. His comrades turned at the noise as Vareck stepped back, away from the torch’s dimming flame. The two intruders raced to the wheezing man, who pointed at Vareck. The two dashed towards him, and he tensed, ready for action.

There was no way out of this now – it was either fight or flee through the entrance behind him and hope he’d delayed them long enough for Jacques and his brothers to have arrived… and Vareck had never been one to run like a coward, not even when doing so was more common sense than cowardice.

The first attacker reached Vareck and swept his dagger towards the monk’s abdomen, hilt first. The bastard wanted to gut him. Vareck leapt back and darted to the side.

Jacques and the others couldn’t be more than ten minutes away now. The fight would be over by then.

The two attackers closed in on Vareck from either side.

Do or die.

Vareck feinted to the left, then ducked to the right under the taller attacker’s arm, the man’s blade missing his ear by millimetres. He spun around as he came up behind the man and shoved him away, then sprang at his comrade and slashed his cheek before spinning out of reach again with the aid of some fancy footwork. He had to wear them down and try to keep at least one alive for questioning.

The man whose cheek Vareck had cut sprang at him, dagger sweeping towards his wrist in an attempt to sever the tendons that allowed him to grip his weapon. Vareck danced back and around him, maintaining the distance between them with ease. The tall one rushed Vareck, who stood his ground this time. The attacker’s dagger arced towards Vareck’s abdomen, again hilt first.

The bastards are determined to gut me.

Vareck grasped the intruder’s dagger hand in a wrist lock and spun along the outside of the man’s arm, his back to the other man, forcing his opponent to turn with him or accept a broken wrist. The motion brought them face to face again, and Vareck twisted the dagger from his opponent’s hand just as the torch the man held came crashing into the side of his head.

Vareck staggered back, keeping his grasp on both his and his attacker’s blades. He swept both out, ignoring his spinning vision and focussing on his sense of hearing instead, as he’d been trained to do if visually impaired during a fight. Someone approached from the left. Vareck lashed out with the hooked dagger, hilt first. It sank into soft flesh and he pressed the knob to release the hook. The soft Velcro-like sound of tearing flesh filled his ears, and a satisfying shriek echoed through the cavern as Vareck jumped back and ripped the hook from whatever body part it had sunk into.

Two down; one to go.

The remaining intruder’s dagger swept towards Vareck’s jugular and he dived into a side roll, came to his feet and spun to face his foe in one fluid movement. The attacker came at him just as Vareck perceived stealthy movement from behind – the man whose throat he had hit earlier clearly wasn’t as incapacitated as Vareck had hoped.

Vareck launched himself to the side. The two attackers advanced without pause, keeping him trapped between them. Vareck lashed out with both knives to keep them from getting too close, backing towards their comrade’s corpse. When his heel touched it, he moved to the side and back, hoping Throat Guy would trip over it. The two attackers glanced at each other, then both leapt at Vareck, murderous intent so clear in their eyes that Vareck imagined he could smell the sourness of it in their sweat.

Movement caught Vareck’s eye as the third intruder joined his two friends.

Shit.

Clearly, the hook hadn’t done any serious damage.

Throat Guy exclaimed as he stumbled over the corpse, but he managed to keep his balance.

Vareck sprang forward and cut off the exclamation with a swift kick to Throat Guy’s face that dropped him – hopefully for good this time. He spun in time to deflect a stab between his shoulder blades, and slashed at his attacker’s dagger wrist. The man hissed as Vareck’s blade found its target and the offending dagger clattered to the ground.

Vareck whirled to face the third intruder, arms sweeping out horizontally in an attempt to keep his attacker at bay. He blinked sweat from his eyes as he closed in on the enemy, no longer focussed on defence. The man’s eyes flickered to something behind Vareck just as a strong arm wrapped around his throat and tried to yank him back. Vareck bent his knees and threw himself forward and down, his back curved and arms extended. Just before his hands touched the ground, he drew his arms back, stretching them out behind him. The attacker flew over his head and crashed into his comrade, sending them both tumbling.

Vareck rose from the crouch and dashed to the intruders as they struggled to untangle themselves. He threw the hooked dagger into the darkness and grasped the closest man’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat. He drew his blade across the tender flesh and stepped back as blood spurted from the mortal wound and the enemy drew his last breaths. His blood-soaked comrade rolled away and rose to his feet, eyeing Vareck warily.

Vareck had killed two of the four intruders, probably three if his kick had been as well placed as he’d intended. This one had to live; it was vital they discover how many others knew the weapon’s location.

Vareck glanced to his right at the entrance, and the intruder followed his gaze. Understanding flickered in his eyes and Vareck assumed he realised help was on the way. In a group attack, negotiation was rarely possible, but one on one… It was time to try, though Vareck doubted he’d get it right unless the man before him was a coward at heart; Harvester lovers were known for their utter loyalty to others of their kind.

There’s nowhere to go, Vareck said. The main entrance has been sealed. Surrender now and we may let you live.

The intruder snarled, Join us, and our masters may have mercy on you when they return.

Vareck sneered, "I want no mercy from that lot. It would surely stain my soul forever."

Then die by my hand.

I’ll pass on that too.

Vareck launched himself at the intruder, blade arcing towards the man’s dagger wrist. The enemy jumped back, turning his hand in so Vareck’s blade sliced the outside of his wrist instead, leaving a thin trail of blood glistening in the flickering torch light. They edged around each other, each searching for a weakness in the other’s defence.

This is pointless, Vareck said. My brothers will be here at any moment. If three of you couldn’t kill one of us, how do you hope to kill a group of us by yourself?

Desperation glimmered in the intruder’s eyes, and in that moment Vareck learnt something new about the enemy. Failure to fulfil a task ended in death –