Seeker's Reach (Sim-Verse: Book 5)

By Allen Kuzara

After the battle at Kairos, Taven Smith once again realizes he needs to take matters into his own hands. But he is unaware of the trap Eleazar has set for him and the lengths he will go to achieve victory.

To defeat Eleazar, Taven must become as ruthless as his nemesis. But can he harness the darkness inside himself without losing everything?

Find out by reading Seeker's Reach and jump into the Sim-Verse today!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allen Kuzara
• Release date: Sep 6, 2021
• ISBN: 9781005609924

Allen Kuzara

Allen Kuzara writes speculative fiction including The Anti Life Series and the forthcoming Aliens Among Us Series. To date, he has written nine novels and multiple short stories.Sign up to his newsletter and receive a free short story!https://www.subscribepage.com/b7x8r2

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

WHAT DO I do with this thing, Boss man?

Taven had heard Mack repeat that question numerous times, but he still didn’t have a good answer. Just keep flying, Taven said. I’ll find a way.

At the helm of the St. George, Taven focused on Cat’s horseshoe shaped ship. She along with all her fighters were pursuing Mack’s slicer and the orb that he’d stolen.

Can’t we throw something at her? Taven asked, frustrated.

Dr. Hewitt shook his head. What do you want us to do, toss asteroid chunks? This mining vessel’s ill equipped for a space battle.

Taven knew he was right, but still—it seemed like there ought to be a way to stop her. They were so close. If they could catch her, the St. George’s jaws of death could take a fatal bite out of her ship’s hull. But that was a big if.

They’d been at this awhile. He and Cat were in a stalemate. They had pushed their temporal bubbles hard against each other’s, creating a dividing line so small, so compressed, that it was virtually nonexistent. Neither Gatekeeper was able to influence the sim’s speed and were relegated to fight conventional space warfare. The only problem was the St. George was a mining vessel, not a battleship.

This baby’s getting hot, Mack said over the comm. I think’s it’s going to blow soon. You know what you’ve got to do.

They’d been through it already, and Taven couldn’t stand the thought of it. The only way to discard the orb without blowing up their sim was to send it through to another sim, and Taven would have to make a portal for that to happen.

Okay, Taven gasped. I’ll make one, but you have to toss the orb through. Don’t follow it.

You’re the boss, Mack said.

Taven closed his eyes and conjured up a portal to a world he thought was uninhabited. When he opened his eyes, he saw the large glowing disc out in front of Mack, who charged toward it in his slicer.

Cat’s ship is almost within firing range, Hewitt reported.

What do you want me to do about it? Taven barked, still straining against Cat’s temporal field.

Just then a large fireball filled their viewscreen where Mack’s slicer had been. Mack! Taven yelled.

The ship’s retrieving the orb, Hewitt said grimly.

Taven watched as the horseshoe shaped ship reached the fireball and turned to face the St. George. It now clasped the shimmering black orb.

Taven gritted his teeth. Ram her! he shouted. Full speed ahead.

Hewitt stared at him with a blank expression.

What? What is it? Taven demanded.

It’s too late, Hewitt answered.

Taven didn’t follow his logic. But when he turned and looked at the viewscreen, he understood. The stars were all gone, in every direction. Cat’s orb had absorbed them, had sucked in the fabric of space-time itself.

Earth? Taven asked, rushing to shift the view back toward home. Hewitt just shook his head.

Taven found the coordinates. Earth was gone.

Black.

Nothingness.

TAVEN GASPED AS if he’d been underwater. When he came to, he realized he was in bed, in the dim morning light at home in Montreux.

Another bad dream, he thought. He’d seen Mack die a dozen different ways. It was always the same story: Cat was after Mack, and Taven was trying to save him. No matter what Taven tried, Mack always ended up the same way: dead.

Taven heard Evelynn’s cries coming from the other room. He sat up and noticed there was more light here than there ought to be this time of day. It wasn’t from his bedroom window—the blinds were shut. Rather, the light came from the living room through a gaping hole in his bedroom wall.

It looked surreal, like the dream itself he’d just woken from. The lamp was off the bedside table, broken, and a portion of the ceiling tile had caved in. Dust settled in the morning light.

He heard footsteps. He couldn’t help but feel alarmed with a fresh wave of adrenaline. It was Amy coming down the hallway. She had Evelynn in her arms. Just out of diapers, his daughter was growing fast—too fast, especially with all the time Taven had spent in Meta.

See, Amy spoke softly, there’s Daddy. Everything’s okay.

Taven saw them both through the hole in the wall. Evelynn’s face was wet from tears, and her breath was spastic as she tried to stop crying. Taven tried to act like everything was fine, but he knew otherwise. And even though Amy sounded calm, he could see in her eyes the concern—even anger—over what he had done.

Daddy’s okay. It was just a bad dream, Taven tried to explain.

But he knew she couldn’t possibly comprehend. His telekinetic powers were already strange enough. He was the world’s only real magician, not requiring the use of illusions. But how could a girl so young understand her father tearing the house apart in his sleep? After all the times they’d told her that her bad dreams couldn’t hurt her and that everything was okay—how could he turn around and tell her his bad dreams had created this mess?

We’re going out, Amy announced.

He nodded, understanding what she really meant. Her eyes told him she couldn’t stay there, and he wondered how long it would be before she made the decision to leave permanently. Or maybe she would make him leave.

They turned and left, and after Taven heard the front door close, he looked at the broken lamp on the floor. He extended his hand toward it, and the two halves elevated. He moved the pieces back together, the jagged edges forming a conspicuous seam.

All the king’s horses, and all the king’s men, Taven muttered. Then he clenched his fist, and the ceramic lamp base crushed into a thousand pieces before falling to the floor.

Taven stood and started getting dressed, but he caught his reflection in the mirror that hung cockeyed on the wall. His scar was still there. It was more recognizable than the rest of his face. What was life in the Sim-Verse all about? he thought. Just an accumulation of scars and broken dreams?

This must end, he promised himself. Now.

CHAPTER 2

BAILS ABBOT CHECKED the mirror. It was a cosmetic receptacle in the personal transport unit. He still couldn’t get used to this world’s high-tech systems, but the man in the mirror was even more startling. He didn’t know why he kept checking. Maybe he was afraid it wouldn’t last, that he’d look and be different.

Arriving at destination, the computer said.

Abbot waved his hand across the glass in front of him, and the opaque sheen disappeared, allowing him to see through. He spotted other transports, the three wheeled vehicles whipping across the road and lining up in single file.

Abbot awaited his turn. He wished he had a weapon. There was something comforting about holding a blaster in your hand. But he knew he’d have one soon enough, once he entered the facility. Soldiers here weren’t issued weapons while off duty, which was a foreign concept to him.

After the transports in front of him zoomed through, Abbot’s vehicle stopped by the inspection booth. His side window rolled down automatically, out of which he extended his ID card.

John, I could have sworn I saw you come through earlier, said the booth operator.

You must need a vacation, Abbot said, feigning a smile.

You and me both, brother.

Then the operator raised an object that looked like a blaster without a barrel and pointed it at Abbot. He startled before he remembered his training. He turned and faced the scanner. After the wand was waved over Abbot’s eyes, it chirped.

Okay, bud. Have a good one, the operator said, gesturing him past.

You too, Abbot lied.

After his window rolled up, he took manual control of the transport, driving it forward into the mouth of the mountain. It looked like any tunnel one would drive through, but this one had no exit. Instead, it led to a deep underground facility. Underneath this mountain lay Fort Kerak, perhaps Earth’s most secure military installation.

It was a strange dilemma. Abbot wanted—no, he needed the memories that would come as he carried out the mission. But he also feared them. Would these new memories overwrite his own? Would he lose himself in the process? These were unspoken questions, because his life, like those of all his brothers and sisters, was one of unquestioned duty.

CHAPTER 3

FOLLOWING ORDERS WAS what got us into this mess in the first place, Taven argued. I should have gone after Eleazar, should have helped Jaron instead of doing your bidding. He pointed his finger into the chest of Howard Dault.

Would everyone just calm down? General Stafford urged. They were at a literal standstill, around the Braun Orbiter’s boardroom like they’d been so many times before. Taven was fed up with the red tape and the fact that nothing around here ever changed—at least not until Eleazar, Cat, or someone from the outside changed things for them.

Come on, Stafford said irritably, taking his own seat. It was a bluff in a way, but Taven followed, walking around the table so that he wouldn’t be sitting next to Dault.

All I’m saying, Taven continued, is that waiting around isn’t going to work. I need to seek Eleazar out and destroy him, with or without your help.

That’s an admirable sentiment, Dault said, sitting back in his chair, his feathers now less ruffled. But this isn’t such a simple matter. Acting prematurely might cost you dearly.

I’m not afraid to die, Taven said truthfully. There were certainly things worse than death, and this slow-motion train wreck seemed to be one of them.

Your life isn’t the only one at stake, Stafford added. If you go off half-cocked and get yourself killed—there goes Earth’s best bet at defeating Eleazar.

But what’s the point of sitting back here, doing nothing? Taven said. If I’m such a great defensive asset, what good am I if I’m never used?

"You are being employed, Dault said, shifting forward. For a split second, Taven thought the entreating bureaucrat might reach his hand across the table. We need your unique abilities to unlock the rest of Meta. As talented as our team is,—Dault turned, acknowledging Kenna and Hewitt sitting alongside them— there are parts of Meta only accessible to a Gatekeeper."

I know that, and I’m willing to help, Taven said. But we’ve got the frequency of Eleazar’s sim. Isham gave his life gaining that intel. Don’t tell me we’re just going to sit on it.

Stafford and Dault exchanged glances but didn’t speak.

What, you didn’t lose it, did you? Taven asked.

After more silence, Kenna spoke. I believe the requested frequency is— She spouted out a long list of digits, and everyone looked at her in disbelief.

How’d you know that? Dault asked. Is that even correct?

Smiling, Hewitt said, I’d bet the orbiter she’s right. This isn’t the first time she’s shown her aptitude at numeric recall.

I simply heard the frequency mentioned in a briefing, Kenna explained. I do not understand why you are startled.

Hewitt turned to Kenna and warmly said, You’ve got a gift, my friend.

Memory like this is not common here? she asked.

Not here, not any place else in the Sim-Verse, Stafford said, shaking his head.

Give it to me again, Taven said, switching on the audio recorder on his wrist unit.

Without hesitation, Kenna did so. Dault tried to stop her, but it was too late. Taven had it on his recorder, and there was nothing Dault or Stafford or the Joint Council or anyone else could do to change that.

What? Taven said, taunting Dault. Are you going to tell me you already nuked Eleazar’s sim?

Dault shook his head. No, we haven’t bombed it. We sent an unmanned jumper there and back. It’s a viable, habitable sim.

Taven started to question how they could be so reckless to send a jumper with Earth’s frequency in its jump drive to Eleazar’s sim. But he remembered hearing—among the endless briefings—how probe jumpers now had a failsafe built in. If they were tampered with or detained off-sim, they self-destructed.

Look, Dault said, opening his hands wide on the table, there are some things you need to know. I realize you are beyond the Joint Council’s control, and I appreciate your voluntary submission to our command…

He stalled, as if he’d made a mistake. Taven wasn’t used to seeing Dault make a gaffe, and it disarmed him a little.

Mother said that Eleazar couldn’t be tracked down until all of Meta’s systems were online, Dault continued.

I know that, Taven said, annoyed. I’m the one who told you.

Dault closed his eyes, looking for patience. "I realize this. What I’m saying is that we can know precisely where Eleazar is if you help us restore the city. That’s one reason the Joint Council has refused to consider such heavy-handed strategies such as sending a nuke indiscriminately through