Angelos Odyssey: Volume Four

By J. B. M. Patrick

"The Way of the Warrior is the true test of a person’s character in life. As the world around me experiences constant chaos, my objective remains the same. I’m a Death Officer, and so I’ve been asked to do my job. When the time comes, I’ll be tested by the Way. I won’t fail..."
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The journey begins. Aaliyah has been imprisoned by the computerized personality of Maxwell, Brock undergoes training as a spy for the Dawn Federation, and Tavon has received his first mission from the Angelos Association. The fourth entry in the Angelos Odyssey Saga sees our protagonists entering their primes and marks a new phase in the series. This is the start of a great adventure and the story of the friendships and choices they make along the way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J. B. M. Patrick
• Release date: May 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9780578697734

J. B. M. Patrick

J. B. M. Patrick was previously an Emergency Medical Technician before enlisting in the United States Army as part of its Infantry. He was stationed at Fort Campbell, Kentucky and became certified in Air Assault Operations (involved rappelling from helicopters, inspecting sling loads, and coordinating aircraft landings), Biometrics, Robotics, and joined his company’s Intelligence Support Team. As part of CoIST, he integrated link diagram analyses and a working knowledge of signalling technology to prepare himself and others to combat insurgency operations.Following the completion of his contract, J. B. M. Patrick discovered that his passion resided in both writing and lifting. He is now the author of Angelos Odyssey, a futuristic epic he believes will span at least eight volumes. He plans on making his dream of a post-apocalyptic series containing authentic and realistic character development a reality.You can find Angelos Odyssey on multiple platforms: Ingram, Kindle, CreateSpace, and Smashwords.To see J. B. M. Patrick's regular posts, follow him on Instagram at weightsteaandpublishing and on Blogger at jbmpatrick.blogspot.com.

Book preview

PART ONE

Utopia

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1

The Contract

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Tavon

-

I’m lost in a dream again. Drowning, choking as blinding light obscures the world around me. I can’t breathe, then I suddenly can. I can’t see, and then...

Dark clouds swarm near, swirling in dizzying patterns and walling me in within a realm far above the Earth. A deep blue sky’s overhead; the Sun beams down, and its bright rays pass through the sea of clouds which makes up the very ground on which I’m standing. Although the light can escape wherever, I cannot. I’m stranded before a great gate, one half of it gold and the other black. Its main doors sweep themselves open before I can even approach. Because they do so, I feel beckoned to move forward.

I pass through those gates and enter a field of scarlet grass covered in the morning dew. Not so far away is a pagoda, one with walls of glazed brick and a seven-tiered tower with long, iron eaves and a strange metal sculpture serving as its finial. The sculpture is of a being who looks as though he’s composed of more than one physical form; in fact, hundreds of arms grasping hundreds of spears and swords emerge from the center of the piece to form a perfect sphere around its main body. Up above, the sky darkens. The wind picks up, pushing past as more than a mere breeze.

Day becomes night. The pagoda trembles, pressing in and out as if it’s ready to burst.

I feel the wind blow much more fiercely; the Sun disappears behind grey clouds, the temple becomes a bloated mirage, and then I can feel the eyes of something glaring at me. Two diamonds of light illuminate the darkness that nearly overtook me, yet a stronger force is lurking closer and closer.

Those two diamonds belong to eyes which stare at me from out of the dark storm. I freeze. I know I’m in a dream, but there’s nothing I can do to end it. I’m trapped, and this awful maelstrom keeps pressing in. The monster’s eyes are big enough to barely reveal the outline of a massive head. When the dread diamonds move close enough, I can just make out a gold and silver crest. I sense an oppressive aura emanating from its center.

The raging storm breaks. Dark clouds contract and implode like hundreds of stars that spread and move on into nothing.

I see the blue sky above me again. The burning Sun highlights a form in the shape of a human, with black wings quivering around a body of pure grey and part physical, part cloud. Its face is featureless except for the two eyes that were glaring at me before—now bearing down behind an implacable expression. In one hand, the grey angel brandishes a long spear; it extends the shaft outward and speaks: "I am the herald of Ishida’s Mandate, the Angel Qizadeus. For the honor of the Angelos Association, let the following knowledge enlighten your future course of action.

In the city of Saizakune, there will be a revolution. One human will become its leader, the angel says. "Their name is Guin Teram, and this person will become the very reason for the catastrophe soon to occur.

Go then to Saizakune. I, Qizadeus, am your commander as well as the sealer of this contract. Travel there, seek out the insurrectionist, and present me with his head. This is my command; as such, you have under one year to accomplish this mission. Anything less than success carried out soon will not be tolerated.

-

One blink and Qizadeus is gone. I can’t see very well—not anymore. I can’t see, and I can’t hear anything around me, but I feel relaxed. I know something’s off, but my body doesn’t seem to mind. I start to ache, then how tired I am really starts to set in. I try to remember what happened to me before that dream and yet doing so causes me to nearly forget everything the angel said to me.

Either what just happened really was an order or my dreams are getting too intense. Are Death Officers only assigned contracts through their dreams? If so, I can’t forget anything—even if I’ve never heard of Saizakune.

Still, I’ve no idea where I am, either. There’s pressure lightly forcing my eyelids shut. Something’s covering my mouth and nose; I think...

I’m submerged in warm water. Four different IV’s are attached to my floating body. When I open my eyes wider, I see through the glass casing around me. At my sides appear to be metal-topped containers like my own, but I can’t see who’s inside any of them. Instead, I look out and into a medical ward: blocky, white, metallic walls with blue circuits running through them reflect the fluorescent lighting from above.

The last thing I remember doing is lecturing Raiko about something, although I can’t think of what it was. I try to search back through my memories, but someone’s coming into view from the outside—they’re walking directly up to me.

I see short, dark hair parted in the middle and over a pair of black-rimmed glasses, a young guy dressed in a white button-up shirt and wearing brown, corduroy jeans.

Though I’m sure we’ve never met, he smiles at me like we’re close, and then—

"Hello, Tavon."

He’s in my head.

"Get out."

The stranger raises his eyebrows.

"Excuse me? I was being considerate."

"I didn’t give you permission to jump inside my head."

"Would you have preferred it if I’d pulled you from the glass to have a basic conversation?"

"..."

I would fold my arms, but it’s like I’m paralyzed or something.

"My name is Inen, and I’ve been hearing about you for some time now. On board the ship, word got around that a beaten and battered man passed out close to the medical ward.

"The stories blossomed, and I’m afraid most of us know by now where the Citadel’s Knight Murderer has been hiding. I’m sorry friend, he says while closing his eyes as he smiles, As soon as you’re released, it appears that a lot of people out there would like to make your acquaintance."

He opens his eyes to stare into mine as he continues, "I can protect you from them, however. After all, you do owe me."

"I don’t know what you’re talking about. This time I’m able to fold my arms. There’s no way I could owe you. I’ve never met you."

"And yet I still chose to save your life."

"What?"

Inen smirks. "When Artemis Spilsbury defeated you in combat, it was I who prevented him from finishing you off. I waited some days, thinking over the future of Noboros, and then I decided that I wanted you to join us. Do you understand?"

"I do. I’m kinda tied up right now, though."

"You just became a Death Officer, correct? That’s hardly an excuse. Under my banner, you have true freedom; you may travel wherever you please. I may call on you perhaps once a year at most, otherwise—"

"It’s not for me."

"Are you afraid?"

I sneer at him.

"Your people get paid to cause destruction, right?"

"We profit from the ignorance of the world around us. It is inevitable, unfortunately."

"I don’t believe in fate. You don’t have to exploit the weak because you think they’re ignorant."

There’s a blinding flash. I shut my eyes and then open them again.

I’m wandering through and between rows of dark oak trees brimming with leaves of ivory white. The sky’s all a dark grey; a neon-green moon peaks out from the horizon. Life is completely still except for my stiff movements. As I regain a sense of consciousness, I speed up the pace. It feels like another vivid dream, but it’s too lucid. It feels real, and my body aches with the effort to run.

I don’t know what I’m running from, but something tells me that it’s getting closer, like a scalding iron pressing in on the side of my head. With that pressure, I’m imparted a heavy sense of dread. I feel like I can’t escape.

Black tentacles reach for me—reach and miss. I sprint faster, then: I’m hit in stomach with a phantom strike. I keel over and just now notice curved, dark blades enveloped in the shadows to my right. Four claws reach out from the shadows, and four claws penetrate my arms and legs.

The pain’s real. It hurts all over, and their claws burn through my skin. If I stay pinned down, I’m sure I’ll have each limb melted off. I’ve got to break loose!

But they’ve got me. The strength behind them is otherworldly; my body’s scorched by a fiery apparition, and the way ahead is suddenly blocked by the thin form of Inen. At his side, a hairless, eyeless hound with skin the color of blood moves to intercept before his master can reach me.

Weraugi! Inen calls out, but his dog acts without him.

From behind the hound, three tails resembling spiked worms twirl in my direction.

Weraugi thrusts one of them into my side, and I cry out as pain greater than any discomfort I’d experienced before makes me convulse. The hound withdraws its stinger, and Inen laughs while stooping down to pet the devil.

"I apologize for Weraugi’s overeagerness, but you were proving to be a difficult study."

What makes you think I’ll be convinced if you torture me?

"Why, I’m convinced by the very fact that you have never experienced Sarabi, a rudimentary form of Imago."

My body’s on fire, so I’m not interested in learning any of this.

Let me go, is all I have to say.

Hmph, he utters condescendingly before continuing, and that might be your greatest weakness, Tavon. I’ve managed to defeat you in a matter of minutes and all because of your limited proficiency. If I wanted to kill you right now, I could do so using your own subconscious. ‘Sarabi’ is manipulation at Imago’s most basic level. All I have to do is establish a presence in your mind, locate your fears, and...

Inen’s face loses its form. It warps and changes.

Aaliyah’s in front of me now. She smirks and brandishes a scalpel before my eyes.

Let me go, I demand again as anger builds inside of me.

She moves closer, waving the blade close to my left cheek, then she cuts into my face with a swift slash.

Within this little cage that you’ve built all by yourself, I’ll break whatever will you have left.

Inen cuts me once more, and I lose it. I shout, LET ME GO, and the glass walls containing me in the real world begin to crack. I regain consciousness to see webs of cracked glass in a dozen different spots. Inen steps back in shock, although it’s only momentary.

I’m still floating in place, glaring back at my enemy as he chuckles to himself.

Well, he begins, "that was unexpected. I’d assumed that you’d give up within the first hour, but you’ve shown considerable resistance...

Very well, Tavon, Inen sighs. I’m afraid I got too carried away. After all, why should I go so far for a mere simpleton.

Finally, the bastard walks away. Before he leaves, he speaks his last words to me: "I’ll no longer be sending envoys to try to convince you to join us. No. Rather, from now on, you will only see my people when the time has come for your death.

You’ve lost any protection you might have had, Tavon. Look out for yourself. Farewell.

2

A New City

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Aaliyah

-

I’ve got on a blue blazer on top of a black turtleneck, black pants too wide for me but better than that prison outfit Maxwell had me in. I’ve been busy trying to look professional, although it’s likely all for nothing.

Maxwell locked me up. He trapped me inside of the Dawn Bureau’s tomb, disappeared, and forced me to sit through his bullshit movie propaganda for eleven days. Constant grating noise for eleven days, with Maxwell reappearing at random moments to interrogate me about who I was on the inside. He replayed footage from eleven days ago, back when I was pressing a gun into Shenu’s head. He has made me watch Shenu’s death over and over again.

After he placed me on a temporary leave and released me from the Bureau, I was left with the image of red splattering across the ground.

I know that I’m going to have to go back.

I’ve been climbing the ladder of the justice department my whole life, looking for the right opportunity to change things for the better. Whenever I got stressed, I used to paint. I was never good at it, but my focus was always the same: to paint a better world. Besides, there’s nothing better for me than picturing what a happy existence would be like.

I’ve climbed to the top of that ladder and found an obstacle I don’t think I can overcome this time. I’d thought, at this point in my life—if I even made it this far—that I’d really be able to change the world in a way that made sense, and all I’ve succeeded in doing is bonding myself to a machine. I’ll have to go back, because I’m still guilty of murder. I’ll return, and then I suppose the punishment will go on. I’ve only been released because, ironically enough, I’m Maxwell’s best candidate when it comes to communications with his adversary: the Democratic Council.

Enough time’s passed to justify city-wide political action. The Council’s arranged a conference today, one which will decide the future of the Dawn Federation.

As part of the conference, the Council has demanded that the Dawn Bureau disband and render its apologies, but Maxwell’s sending me to do the exact opposite. He wants me to stand up for the Bureau... an organization I wish to destroy more than anything else.

And so I paint. I’m painting a world without Maxwell. Without Amour. Without the broken government of the Dawn Federation.

I paint, and then the Eye hidden underneath my blazer begins to tremble. With one vibration, I’m notified that one of Maxwell’s sentinels has arrived outside my apartment. It feels like I’ve just gotten back, and yet I’m being called to my next task.

Tallah follows me to the door.

Are you going to be okay? Will he let you come back?

I don’t know. I’m sorry, but I don’t have the answers anymore.

What the hell do you mean?

Tallah tries to grab me, but I push her away. She looks shocked, but I can’t let myself show too much emotion. The less she knows the better she’ll feel when I don’t come back.

There are forces greater than me at work here. How can you expect me to know what those assholes won’t tell me?

She doesn’t say anything, so I hug her.

I’ll do everything I can to survive, Tallah, I promise you. We’ll see each other again.

Before I leave, she asks me what I hoped she wouldn’t: Why did it have to be you? Couldn’t someone else have done it?

No one else would’ve killed him, is my final response.

-

Later that day, as the Sun moves to hover directly over the Citadel, I arrive at a broad series of stone steps known as The Superior Path, and they lead up to the Isolakandi Temple. Its towers stand as remnants from an age we could soon return to if what’s happened in the Lower-City continues creeping upward.

I’m escorted by two sentinels, both simply here to keep me from trying to make a run for it. After passing through pearly white gates, clearing a domed lobby and opening a glass door panel into a small, square garden, I’m able to see the main building in which the conference should already be taking place by now.

I pass through a second lobby while on the way to the nearest elevator, then I ride the elevator to the highest floor. I come out onto the upper heights of the central tower; upon the blue roof which serves as a platform, a tenshu stands out with walls made from both netite and glass.

I enter the tenshu and am greeted by one of the Council’s secretaries, who then has me take a seat in the marble-floored waiting area just below a set of carpeted steps leading into the conference chamber. I gather what courage I have left as I wait in place. In doing so, I quickly enter Zen State, where I clear my mind of all thoughts—the negative with the positive. Although the lack of control in my situation is unnerving, I’m resolved to make this work in my favor. If I can’t save myself, then I might as well do my best to try to save other people.

GOOD MORNING, MURDERER. ARE YOU LISTENING?

Yes.

Dammit. It’s him.

DID YOU REMEMBER TO BRING YOUR KOM CELL WITH YOU?

Yep.

PLEASE ACTIVATE YOUR KOM CELL NOW.

I do as the machine says, and a colored hologram projects out to depicts a group of older men and women seated at a long table. Each is wearing the robes of the Federation, and I recognize them all as the members of what currently makes up the Democratic Council, plus one additional face who’s also familiar.

Maxwell, I ask aloud, why are you showing me this?

I WOULD LIKE FOR YOU TO OBSERVE HOW YOUR OPPONENTS BEHAVE. YOUR OPINION OF THEM IS VALUABLE.

I wish you’d thought of my ‘valuable opinions’ before throwing me in jail.

OBSERVE, AALIYAH. OBSERVE AND REPORT.

-

Without the President around as a reminder of what we fought for, Mosley, the Executive of Zone F begins, I can’t help but question the place of our religion in this new government.

There shouldn’t be any question at all, replies Zone D’s Executive Isenwold. Belief in Avva is sanctioned by Dharmanic Lord Isolakandi. Avva herself was a virtual paradigm of human perfection, so of course we should continue letting her written commandments guide our administration!

I disagree, says Lauren, the Executive of Zone A. "I’m sorry, Isenwold, but there’s just not enough proof to indicate that Avva was anything but human."

Pardon me—

Moreover, Avva’s prophecies of the future were only likely outcomes, but that doesn’t mean that we should base our policies off the oldest religion in the country.

That’s a very disrespectful line of reasoning, Executive Lauren, Mosley retorts with a scowl. Avva means more to the people than all of us combined. Belief in her is how we’ve maintained our social contract with the people this far into what’s been a total disaster.

So we should keep deceiving them then? Lauren asks him.

"There is no deception here, Executive. You cannot take away a peoples’ god in the midst of a crisis and expect them to obey your authority. Why, after all, would you suggest any such course of action when we’ve barely a grip on the Citadel as it is. Hell, I need Avva."

Executive Mosley, with all due respect, do you actually believe that Avva ‘ascended?’

She died during childbirth, Zone C’s Rulius speaks up. The child she was carrying was cursed somehow, and it proved to be fatal.

Either way, Isenwold responds without skipping a beat, Avva was taken into the realm of Isolakandi, and Her purpose was always to minister unto ordinary humans.

But we aren’t ordinary humans, are we? argues Mosley.

Executive Mosley leans back in his seat while a great ivory hall glows in the Sun behind him; he clasps his hands together and says, We’ve been elected to represent the interests of the people. Everyone is depending on us—what, with Gozadalus threatening to overrun the Four Cities, Alandra waiting in the shadows, and monsters swarming throughout the Lower-City. If we fail in this administration, then this country will fail like the others before it. Mosley turns his head to look directly at Executive Lauren as he lectures her, "And that’s why ‘faith’ is a necessary component of all our actions going forward. We must trust that we act in good faith with both Lord Isolakandi and the people, understand?"

I... I apologize. I don’t agree with this. she responds and shakes her head.

Will you risk surrendering your esteemed position over it, Lauren? Mosley inquires.

She pauses momentarily, then she replies, No. If that’s what it takes to control the chaos, then I have no choice.

Since we’re speaking of honoring traditions, Executive Jiaoxin of Zone B interjects, how are we to handle President Dereikaund’s son, Naomasa?

We won’t. Mosley says with no clear emotion.

For what reason?

"The House of the President no longer exists as a legitimate power within the Citadel. Naomasa was once an heir to political power, but now he will merely be the heir of his family’s wealth. This should work out well for him, as the many stresses of governing should not all be weathered by one man. I’m under the assumption that he has no real need of us, and so there’s no reason to speak with him.

"This is a new government and thus a new city as well. The Democratic Council, with the addition of Staff Commander Asenso Ido and Secretaries Deandra and Lovan, constitutes what should now be known as the Republic of Avva. With our combined intellects, I’m confident that there’s a brighter future ahead than anything Derek could’ve ever conceived.

This is gonna be a long conference, ladies and gentlemen, and that’s why our interrogation of the Dawn Bureau’s leader is a priority if we’re to discuss how to unite this country.

Executive Mosley peers down at what looks like his Kom Cell, then he quickly looks up and speaks, Maxwell says he’s here—oh, and there’s one of our secretaries coming now. Good. Everything’s going to be perfectly fine.

3

The Interrogation

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Aaliyah

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Miss Aaliyah—

‘Commander’ Aaliyah, I correct him just as a small, silver camera is placed atop a tripod at the center of the table and positioned facing me.

"This interview is being broadcasted across every major news station in the Citadel right now, and, according to our information, Maxwell is the Commander, Mosley says to me. And you’re his representative, am I right?"

"No. Maxwell let me out of my cage, and I chose to come here as the acting Commander. I represent myself."

The room gets quiet. Mosley raises one eyebrow and says condescendingly, The mastermind behind the Dawn Bureau, Maxwell, chose you of all people to speak for his organization? Why can’t he appear before the public himself? Why send a woman who shot a man in cold blood?

Were you there?

I glare at him.

No. And neither was Maxwell, so why can’t he show his face after allowing our President to die? Do you understand the level of devastation that the Bureau is responsible for, ‘Commander’ Aaliyah?

Why do you act like you weren’t a part of it?

Almost everybody in the room gasps, then they all look at me with pure contempt as Mosley says, I beg your pardon? The Democratic Council was the very backbone of Derek’s Presidency.

But you still wanted him replaced. You’ve all been waiting to replace him. Meanwhile, the rest of the world’s been suffering. You let Amour Bali become too powerful, you let Noboros have its way with our city; you were all negligent.

Amour Bali? You’re talking about that lunatic behind the Shikomongo Corp? Rulius exclaims as his eyes get wide. Let me get this straight, he raises his voice, you’re accusing us of being complicit in a serial killer’s actions? How could that be possible?

"What I’m wondering is how the good Council allowed this ‘serial killer’ to live comfortably in the Upper-City for so long."

Answer our questions first, miss—

Fucking ‘Commander, I interrupt. And I wasn’t finished. I didn’t come here to be attacked by people who’ve done nothing for this country.

Ahem, Mosley presses on regardless, the Dawn Bureau was supposed to reinforce our soldiers during the attack on the Four Cities, and, because your organization withdrew its entire damn army, all of us have suffered, Commander. Is that what you wanted?

No.

So you didn’t agree with Maxwell’s order to hoard part of the nation’s defenses to himself?

I had no part in that decision. Up to this point, I’ve had no power.

Really? Isenwold leans forward and presses his lips together under a great white beard. And you say that you’re in charge of the Bureau?

I hesitate. If I tell them the truth, then the world might just fall apart. If the people of the Citadel find out about Maxwell’s true nature...

Are you okay? Isenwold asks and, without waiting for an answer, proceeds with heavy condescension, Is honesty and cooperation really too much for the Bureau? You were supposed to come here and apologize!

Isenwold starts to stand, but Mosley puts his hand on his shoulder and says, Easy. She did say that she had no power.

Then why the hell are you here, lady? Isenwold challenges me with a bold glare.

I reply flatly, Because I’m interested in cooperation and honesty—but, more to the point, honesty.

Executive Lauren speaks up unexpectedly, Are you safe?

Before she