Keeper of the Empire, Keeper Series Book 3

By H.J. Ralles

The Vorgs have landed! They're grotesque, they spit venom and Matt is is about to be their next victim. In the 3rd book of the Keeper series, Matt finds himself in a terrifying world. With the help of his friend Targon and a daring girl named Angel, Matt must locate the secret hideout of the Govan Resistance. There is no end to the action and excitement as Matt attempts to track down the Keeper, and win the next level of his computer game.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Top Publications, Ltd.
• Release date: Nov 7, 2012
• ISBN: 9781935722212

Book preview

Keeper

of the

Empire

By

H.J. Ralles

Top Publications, Ltd.

Dallas, Texas

For

Megan, Mathew, Robyn and Adam

May you always find pleasure in a good book.

Keeper of the Empire

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2000 H. J. Ralles

No part of this book may be published or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or information storage and retrieval systems without the express written permission of the publisher.

The characters and events in this novel are fictional and created out of the imagination of the author. Certain real locations and institutions are mentioned, but the characters and events depicted are entirely fictional.

Acknowledgments

Many thanks to: Malcolm, Richard and Edward–as ever, my trusted critics and ardent supporters; Brenda Quinn and Carolyn Williamson, for the many hours of editing which made this book what it is; Bill Manchee and all at Top Publications, who continue to believe in Matt and his adventures; my friends in the Plano Writers, the SCBWI and NAWW whose opinions are invaluable and whose critiquing skills are exceptional; Motophoto, Plano, for great publicity photographs; and my family and friends whose encouragement spurs me on to finish another manuscript

Chapter 1

Matt rolled onto his back, dazed and disoriented. He squinted to see, blinded by the light from the brilliant sun. Wonder where I am this time? he thought.

Tall corn stalks surrounded him. They rustled gently in the breeze, dancing above his head. He sat up slowly and brushed the loose dirt from the sleeves of his denim jacket.

A girl screamed.

Matt tensed.

Get your dirty great claws off me! she protested.

Be still, young lady, a gruff voice replied. Don’t make it worse than it already is.

Matt lay back down. He turned carefully onto his stomach and listened to the commotion.

I won’t cooperate with the likes of a Vorg! the girl snapped. "You Vorgs are the most hideous things that ever walked on two legs."

All renegades will be caught and desensitized. It is in your best interests to accompany me peacefully.

Never!

So be it, the Vorg growled. "You will be desensitized and sent to The Gilded State. It is useless to fight me."

"The Gilded State? Is that what you call it? I’d rather die, you sorry excuse for a life-form!"

Desensitization? What was that? It didn’t sound like something Matt wanted to experience. His heart pounded. The brilliant day and idyllic setting seemed to take on a sinister air. He heard the girl shriek. The sounds of scuffling and struggling grew louder as they came through the field, closer and closer to where he hid.

The corn stalks swayed in a gust of wind. Matt dug his fingernails into the earth. If he shifted his position, the unnatural movement of the corn would give him away. He pressed his cheek flat against the ground, willing himself to be still.

Seconds later, right in front of his face, legs thrashed and flailed between the stalks. He held his breath, praying that they would pass by without seeing him. A huge, thick-soled brown boot came to rest inches from his left hand. The urge to run was overwhelming, but Matt lay stone still.

Okay, just a few more feet to the road. Then I’ll get you in the airbug with the others, the Vorg growled.

Ouch! Let go of my hair, you oaf!

Quit complaining, girl. Don’t make me use my venom. I really don’t want to inflict further pain on you.

Then set me free, you grotesque being!

My, you have spirit to match that mop of curly red hair. Pity. You’ll not have such a fiery personality much longer.

"You just wait . . . no Vorg will ever break me!" the girl yelled.

"That’s what they all say. Desensitization will be over before you can count to ten, and then I guarantee you’ll be tame."

Never!

Where’s your name tag, girl?

Matt heard the jingling of a metal chain and a deep-bellied laugh.

Angel? Ha! Your mother got it wrong. Devil would have been more appropriate.

The girl spat.

Learn some manners! shouted the Vorg. I warned you! Now you’ll see what my venom can do!

Matt heard a loud smack followed by a muffled cry. He listened for more of the girl’s objections, but she was silent. Only a loud hiss broke the peace of the countryside.

The Vorg turned, and the enormous boot crunched Matt’s fingers. His eyes watered with the pain. He counted to ten silently and bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood. If only they would leave! Then, as if someone heard his thoughts, the loud rustling of the corn returned to a quiet whisper. Had the Vorg dragged the girl away?

Hey, Renx. Keep the airbug open, shouted the Vorg. I’ve caught another one—she’s a real hothead.

The voices faded. Then the high-pitched whirring of an engine and the rushing of air overpowered the sounds of nature, peaceful and reassuring.

Matt’s fingertips throbbed. He remained motionless, listening carefully as the whirring sounds disappeared. A few minutes seemed like forever. After a while his breathing relaxed and he allowed himself to move. He cautiously inched to his knees and then got to his feet, crouching so that he could just see above the ripening husks.

The field of corn stretched as far as he could see, rippling like an ocean under a gentle wind. A long dirt track, only feet from where he hid, wound its way across the expanse of green and out of sight between the distant scrubby oaks.

Matt stood upright. His eyes caught movement in the stalks close by. He ducked in panic.

Matt . . . hey, Matt, it’s me! came a soft voice.

Matt sighed with relief at the familiar sound of his friend and stood up again. Not far in front of him, a thin, frightened face, framed by straggly blond hair, popped up.

Targon, you made it here!

Looks like I did. Targon sneezed, and rubbed his nose vigorously with the back of his hand. I think I’m allergic to this stuff. He sneezed again. I pinched my nose while those goons were dragging off that poor girl.

I felt really bad for not helping her, said Matt, but I didn’t know what I could do on my own. He swept the husks back with his hands, walking forward to meet Targon halfway. I didn’t dare take a look even though they were so close to me. I was pretty scared. The Vorg stepped on my hand. He held it out.

It looks bad, said Targon, studying Matt’s swollen fingers. I think you’ll just have to suffer a while. There won’t be any ice around here.

That guy must have weighed a ton.

Guy?

Yeah, that’s got to be the biggest boot I’ve ever seen on a human being! His feet were at least ten sizes bigger than mine—and that’s saying something.

Those goons didn’t look like any kind of human to me!

Matt looked up from his red fingers and stared blankly at Targon. "What do you mean? You actually dared to take a look? And you keep saying goons as if there was more than one."

Targon nodded and sneezed again. "At least two—if not three . . . and they weren’t men who took that girl. They were . . . um . . . I don’t know what they were—but they definitely weren’t human."

Well, I heard her call him a Vorg—but I assumed he was from a place called Vorg.

Well, you assumed wrong.

Were they androids?

Targon shook his head. Don’t think so.

Well, what were they? Then at least I’ll know when I run into one.

Oh, you’ll know. You won’t miss an eight-foot walking reptile with stubby jaws and rolls of skin under his chin . . .oh, and spikes down the back of its neck. He chewed his nails.

Matt chuckled. Very funny. Good joke. Oh—and they just happen to be bright green, speak English and wear clothes, right?

Targon looked over his shoulder nervously. Matt waited for him to break into laughter, but Targon turned back and just stared at him with wide eyes.

"You’re not joking, are you?" said Matt, recognizing his friend’s uneasiness.

Targon removed his fingers from his mouth and clenched his fist. "Deadly serious. I’ve never seen anything like them. Besides, you shouldn’t be surprised. This is your computer game we’re in. After meeting the Cybergons in Zaul and then the Noxerans in Karn, what did you expect on the third level?"

Matt shuddered. He suddenly felt like he should hide. He ducked beneath the stalks and yanked on Targon’s tunic top until he sat down too. His voice turned to a whisper. "You’re right, of course. The game instructions did warn that this level of Keeper of the Kingdom would be an even bigger challenge."

Well, here we are in Level 3. I can’t say I’m looking forward to dealing with the Vorgs—they make the Noxerans look like fairies.

Matt smiled briefly. I think I’m glad I didn’t have the guts to look at one. He sighed and looked up at the tops of the waving corn. You haven’t seen Varl, have you?

Let’s hope he’s somewhere close, and we find him before one of those creatures does. Have you got your computer?

No, Matt replied. Once again I’ve arrived with nothing but the clothes I’m wearing.

Oh well, we may be lucky and find it, said Targon, starting to retrace his steps.

Matt could feel his friend’s despair. He got to his knees and crawled in the dirt until he reached the area where the corn had been flattened by his arrival. Matt peered through the stalks in all directions. Where was his computer? Searching for a needle in a haystack was an appropriate cliché to describe his situation, he decided. His computer could be anywhere in this enormous field. Even if he took days to search it thoroughly, he probably wouldn’t find it. Discouraged, he crawled back to Targon, trying not to put pressure on his throbbing fingers.

Impossible, if you ask me, Matt said, sitting cross-legged. He sighed deeply.

Targon nudged him in the ribs. This happen to be yours? He produced a black laptop computer with a cracked case from behind his back.

Matt grinned and took it from his friend. Great going, Targon! We’re in luck this time!

Targon beamed. "Well, come on. Don’t waste any more time. Open it up before those Vorgs return, and tell me what we’ve got to do to win Level 3 of your Keeper of the Kingdom game. I thought you wanted to get home!"

Of course I do! said Matt, eagerly raising the lid.

The sky suddenly darkened and a shadow fell across the corn. The birds stopped singing. A deafening drumming broke the peacefulness of the countryside. Matt covered his ears and looked up. Targon did the same. An enormous elliptical object came rushing down toward them. Matt threw his arms over his head, thinking that he was about to be crushed to death. He held his breath and waited. But nothing happened.

When he realized that he was still alive, Matt dared to lift his head. The object hovered above them, filling the sky. Matt’s head ached with the constant pulsating noise. Should they make a run for it?

The object came lower. Matt gulped. His heart raced. Targon grabbed his sleeve.

Then, as quickly as the object had descended, it zoomed off into the distance. The sunlight returned, the drumming noise subsided, and the birds began to sing again.

Matt drew in a deep breath.

What . . . what was that? Targon stammered.

If I had to make a guess, I’d say it was a UFO.

A what?

An unidentified flying object—you know, a flying saucer, repeated Matt.

What’s a flying saucer? Targon whispered. I’ve never seen one before.

Neither have I, said Matt. But that sure looked like descriptions I’ve heard. He scrambled to his feet, and with shaking knees dared to peer over the corn husks. The elliptical object was still visible, hovering on the horizon. Matt watched with keen interest. He didn’t believe in UFOs, but he could find no other explanation for this strange thing. Finally it disappeared from sight.

Matt sat down again and looked at his friend’s blank expression.

"So, what is a flying saucer?" Targon asked again.

It’s a spaceship that comes from another planet.

Oh, said Targon, who looked stunned by the explanation.

Yeah, exactly, said Matt, hardly believing what he had just seen.

 Do you think they’ll be back for us?

Matt sighed. I hope not. We don’t know if they saw us or if they were looking for humans like the Vorgs who took that girl away. He swallowed hard as an awful thought dawned upon him. Say, Targon, I hope we’re still on Earth. You don’t think this is another planet, do you?

Targon shrugged. What did your game rules say?

Matt picked up his computer. He ran his good hand over the lid as he thought back to the time when he ripped open the Keeper of the Kingdom box and read the game instructions. The instructions said something like ‘Save the people and defeat the Keeper on Earth in 2540 AD.’

So, wouldn’t they have mentioned another planet?

Matt stared at the closed laptop. "I guess so. In Level 1 of my game, Zaul was a kingdom on Earth in 2540 and in Level 2, Karn was an underwater realm on Earth in 2540. I must admit, this feels like Earth. In fact, this place looks very much like the area around my hometown."

Targon got to his feet. Well, wherever we are, I don’t much feel like sitting in a cornfield all night. Vorgs could return at any minute, and there’s nowhere to hide. Try to run in this field and they’d catch us easily.

I agree, said Matt. It’s not safe here. We ought to find somewhere better. When we do, I’ll open my game instructions, and perhaps we’ll have some clue as to where we are.

So, which way do we go?

Let’s stay low in the corn until we reach the edge of the field and then follow the track past those oaks. We can’t see much else from here.

Targon shuddered. "It would be nice if this were your hometown."

Somehow I don’t think we’ll be so lucky. There aren’t any Vorgs where I come from!

* * * * *

Let’s rest a while, suggested Targon, as the dirt track ended and they reached a main road. We've been walking for ages.

Sure, said Matt, leaning against a tree trunk at the edge of the road. He placed his computer at his feet, squatted down and looked at his watch. We've been going for nearly three hours, so we've probably walked about nine or ten miles.

How’s your hand? asked Targon, sitting on a rotting tree stump.

Matt wiggled his fingers. Getting better, thanks. I’ll survive. It’ll just be sore for a few days. Don’t think I broke any bones.

Any idea which way we should go?

The land was flat for as far as Matt could see in any direction, but dotted with trees and scraggy bushes. Down the road to his left, he could just make out a white house and a distant bank of trees merging with the early evening sky. He examined the road in that direction. It was in a terrible state of disrepair. The concrete surface was severely broken with huge cracks. It would be difficult to walk on in the dark.

Lights began to flicker in the distance. Man-made illumination was replacing the gentle radiance from the setting sun. See the yellow glow? he said to Targon. "Well, if this is my home in the U.S.A., that would be the glow of city lights."

So you think we should go left?

Matt yawned. Heading toward the lights seems like our best bet. We might find somewhere comfortable to spend the night. He picked up his laptop.

Okay, let's go then, said Targon. I'm all for finding somewhere to sleep.

Targon hopped over the crevices in the road as if he were playing a game. Within minutes he was