Origins: Discovery Read online

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this work may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Kindle Press, Seattle, 2016

  A Kindle Scout selection

  Amazon, the Amazon logo, Kindle Scout, and Kindle Press are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.

  This one is for my daughter, Elena.

  I may have run the race to be called an Ironman, but coming back from your accident took something much stronger than iron. Going from operating room with pins and screws in your hips to walking in just six short weeks makes you my Titanium Girl!

  Contents

  Prologue: Sleepless Nights

  Chapter 1: Leif the Lucky (1000 AD)

  Chapter 2: Setting the Stage (1486 AD)

  Chapter 3: A Gift from God

  Chapter 4: Nearly There (1488 AD)

  Chapter 5: Keeping a Secret

  Chapter 6: A Royal Affair

  Chapter 7: Moors No More

  Chapter 8: The Hard Sell (1492)

  Chapter 9: Luxury or Necessity

  Chapter 10: Ghost of Murder’s Past

  Chapter 11: Following the Light of the Sun

  Chapter 12: Water, Water Everywhere

  Chapter 13: Can’t Put a Value on Friendship

  Chapter 14: What Lies Beneath

  Chapter 15: Appeal to the Explorer

  Chapter 16: Shall We Dine?

  Chapter 17: Getting the Word Out

  Chapter 18: Turnabout is Foul Play

  Chapter 19: Sleepless Nights

  Chapter 20: Jail Break

  Chapter 21: Secrets No More

  Chapter 22: Uninvited Guest

  Chapter 23: Getting Physical

  Chapter 24: Fate Worse Than Death

  Chapter 25: Long Overdue Arrival

  Chapter 26: Rule Change

  Chapter 27: The Powers That Be (1498 AD)

  Chapter 28: Power and Authority

  Chapter 29: Shock and Awe

  Chapter 30: New Beginnings

  Chapter 31: Subjugation

  Chapter 32: Not a Happy Family Anymore

  Chapter 33: Heading West

  Chapter 34: The Hunt

  Chapter 35: Language Barriers

  Chapter 36: Coba

  Chapter 37: Sacrifice

  Chapter 38: Finding Common Ground

  Chapter 39: Sending a Message

  Chapter 40: A Dish Best Served Cold

  Chapter 41: Message Received

  Chapter 42: Never Tell Me the Odds

  Chapter 43: Dying Motivation

  Chapter 44: The Thunder of Guns

  Chapter 45: Pyrrhic Victory

  Chapter 46: Painful Reminder

  Epilogue: Only the Beginning . . .

  Prologue: Sleepless Nights

  HASTELLOY DECIDED THAT he had divulged enough to his therapist for their first meeting and brought his storytelling to a close. Dr. Holmes was an intelligent man and a capable psychiatrist, but he did have limits; every human did. Cultivating this necessary relationship properly was a delicate balancing act between too much and not enough.

  If not enough information was conveyed at a sufficient pace, then things would fall behind a tight schedule without an inch of wiggle room. If the maelstrom of outlandish details came too quickly, then the good doctor would simply judge Hastelloy hopelessly insane and stop listening altogether. Both would be a disaster and prevent Dr. Holmes from being the character witness upon which Hastelloy’s plans would soon come to rely.

  The pace needed to be just right, but his therapist was not taking Hastelloy’s hint of silence. Twenty seconds ticked by with the only sound in the office being the soft scratching of pencil on paper. Eventually Dr. Holmes finished jotting down his notes and looked up, eager to hear more. With eye contact made, Hastelloy redirected his gaze toward a tall, narrow window to his right. The slender portal failed to allow much light into the room even at midday, but the evening hour rendered the window nearly pitch-black.

  Dr. Holmes’s eyebrows snapped up in surprise as he recognized the late hour and was a signal to Hastelloy that his second effort to end the conversation was a success. After a few moments of introspective thought, Dr. Holmes finally broke the silence.

  “You’re a fascinating man, so much so that we’ve spent the entire day together. I think this was an excellent first discussion. We definitely have a good open dialogue, and there’s not a doubt in my mind that I’ll be able to help you as time goes by.”

  “I feel much better already by finally getting my personal story out in the open,” Hastelloy responded.

  The funny thing was that he actually did. Spending over four thousand years living incognito on this planet, protecting his true identity from all but his fellow crewmen was, well, there was no word for it. He had lived so many varied lives for so long that he scarcely knew who he was anymore; there was only the mission.

  “I’m going to have my secretary, Tara, set aside some time early next week for us to talk again,” Dr. Holmes said, bringing Hastelloy back to the task at hand.

  Early next week, Hastelloy repeated in his head. That was ample time for the National Security Agency to play its part in Egypt. It also gave Dr. Holmes adequate time to get familiar, if not completely comfortable, with the concept that five aliens had existed on this planet since the time of pyramids and pharaohs; it was a lot to take in, after all.

  “Between now and then I want you to think about a few things for me,” the doctor went on. “I believe you are suffering from a dissociative state. This basically means something so unimaginably awful happened to you or someone you love that your mind threw a switch. Rather than seeing and dealing with the events that happened, your mind created this make-believe scenario so you can look upon the trauma through someone else’s eyes. In this case, an alien who lived during ancient Egypt.”

  If only that were true, Hastelloy thought to himself. The doctor had it half right, though. There had been countless events over the millennia, most unimaginably awful. Hastelloy saw every last one of them with absolute clarity in his mind because they all occurred directly or indirectly because of his orders. Plagues, floods, wars, genocides all took place and left millions of humans dead as a result. All were for a greater good; nevertheless, they happened and that fact was tragic.

  Species Alpha, who landed on Earth along with Hastelloy and his crew following a battle in space that left both crews hopelessly stranded, had to be defeated no matter the cost. Hastelloy’s actions in Egypt prevented the Alpha from taking over this planet. Their victory would have enslaved all humanity, billions of lives over the ages. Surely, that endgame justified the sacrifice of a few million human lives.

  If that were not enough, an Alpha victory back then would have also destroyed the Nexus device, the piece of Novi technology key to Hastelloy and his crew’s longevity. It regenerated their life forces and housed the lives of twenty million Novi crewmen lost in that fateful space battle. Hastelloy and his crew bore the responsibility of protecting the Nexus at all cost until its return to Novus. That was the mission, and he would not fail. His actions throughout this planet’s history served a greater good for both the humans and the Novi. The ends did justify the means, at least that is what Hastelloy told himself.

  “I want you to think about the story you told me today,” Dr. Holmes continued. “When you do, consider the possibil
ity that your mind might be playing a trick. I want you to consider that the events you recall might be taking place in the here and now rather than ancient Egypt. Think about how that story might go in today’s world.

  “Another thought I want you to consider and spend time on in self-reflection is the violence in your story. The violence is coming from a place of extreme anger inside you. Harboring fantasies about killing people is not healthy. If you have anger within you, let it free. Don’t project it through violent imagery. We need for you to come to terms with your anger and fixation on violence.”

  The naivety of the doctor’s statement was almost laughable. If Dr. Holmes only knew the violence his brother, a covert NSA agent tasked with tracking down and eliminating Hastelloy and his crew, had in him. Agent Mark Holmes had shown himself to be utterly ruthless in his pursuit of the crew over the years. If Dr. Holmes knew who his brother truly was, this lecture on violence would be a short one. Knowledge would be coming soon, and Hastelloy was content with that thought as he delivered his response.

  “Violence was a way of life back then, and it still is today if you make the extra effort to see it in the shadows,” Hastelloy said. “You like to think humanity has evolved beyond its propensity for violence and cruelty. I am telling you it’s closer than you think.”

  Before another uncomfortable silence could set in, Hastelloy stood up from his chair and extended his hand. Dr. Holmes followed suit and clasped his patient’s offered appendage in a stiff handshake.

  “Dr. Holmes, I have enjoyed our talk. I will do as you’ve asked, but will you do something for me? The next time you are walking down the street, driving through the city, or talking to someone on the phone, take the time to go beneath the surface of what you see or hear. You might be surprised how close evil and violence really are to you.”

  “I will do that,” Dr. Holmes responded. “It certainly seemed to work for you in your story when Mosa made the same request of you. Though I doubt I’ll be killing any would-be rapists in the shadows, but who knows what I might find and be able to help resolve.”

  The doctor released his grip on Hastelloy’s hand, walked over to his desk, and pressed the intercom button. “Tara, Hastelloy and I are finished for the day. Would you please have Terry escort him back to his room?”

  “Of course,” Tara replied in a chipper tone.

  It took some getting used to hearing Commander Gallono speak with a female voice. The pitch may have been different, but even in his two-word reply, the commander’s unique personality shone through like a lit torch in a dark cave. Serving together for hundreds of lifetimes brought with it an unmistakable level of familiarity that was shared among every member of his crew by now.

  The office door opened to admit Tara’s slender female form and the wide, muscular presence of Terry the orderly following close behind her. There they were, two individuals standing polar opposite to Hastelloy’s mission in this place.

  Terry was quite proficient as an insane asylum orderly, especially considering his real job was working for the NSA. Terry was in Henderson Home to protect Dr. Holmes from any dangers that his brother’s activities in the NSA might bring to the doctor’s door; dangers like Hastelloy.

  Tara was not who she appeared to be, either. The commander had been imbedded as Dr. Holmes’ assistant two years earlier to provide backup for Hastelloy when the time came, and it most certainly was coming, but not quite yet.

  Without a word, Terry crossed the room and ushered Hastelloy out. On his way to the door, Tara gently brushed her hand on Hastelloy’s right shoulder. That was the message he needed to hear. To others in the room it looked like a polite gesture of concern, but it was actually a prearranged code. A tap on the right shoulder meant the NASA deep-space probe was successfully commandeered and launched by Ensign Valnor earlier in the day.

  It finally happened! When the crew crashed on Earth, the humans they found could barely rub two sticks together to create fire. Now, only four thousand years later, Hastelloy and his crew had brought mankind far enough along technologically to construct a spacecraft. Not just any spacecraft, but one able to travel fast enough while broadcasting an SOS message strong enough to reach Novus. It was only a matter of time now before the Novi got that message and arrived to retrieve the Nexus device along with Hastelloy and his crew.

  Everything was going according to plan so far, which was a rarity in Hastelloy’s experience. Almost without exception, the first casualty of any operation was his original plan of action. The victorious side was never the one with the best plan; it was the side that prepared enough backup plans to handle any eventuality when everything went to hell in a hand basket.

  “Have a good night,” Tara said before shutting the office door behind them. Terry ushered Hastelloy through the outer office and into the long, narrow hallway paved with white industrial tiling. Doors lined both sides of the hall in even increments of fifteen feet to give the building a comforting symmetry. Each door led to a room containing ten beds, five on either side of a central aisle similar to an army barracks.

  Terry opened the door to Hastelloy’s room and in doing so presented a view of humanity that people either did not know about or chose to forget. Five of his roommates were lying in their beds mumbling quiet, incoherent words to themselves. Two more sat in the fetal position on their beds, clenching the sheets so hard that their knuckles were as white as the linens in their grasp. In the far left corner, a man stood leaning forward with his forehead resting in the corner as if he were a schoolboy given a disciplinary timeout. The room’s ninth occupant sat quietly on the edge of his cot, staring out the only window, a pitch-black window that revealed nothing about the world beyond the pane of glass.

  Hastelloy drew a deep breath before stepping through the doorway to join his fellow patients. None of them were violent, which is why they could share a room unsupervised. Each man simply needed some time and space to be alone with his individual demons; Hastelloy certainly had his.

  The heavy metal door behind him clapped shut with an echoing thud that accentuated his circumstance: Dr. Holmes had sentenced him to a week of solitude and self-reflection. The treatment was well intentioned, but for Hastelloy it was akin to a week of waterboarding. He comforted himself with the knowledge that he had spent time alone in worse places for far longer than a week. He could manage.

  Out in the world, Hastelloy could lose himself in the tasks of everyday life. When things did happen to slow down, he could always focus on devising new plans and alternate scenarios for those plans. If all else failed, he could always do research on his opponents or have a drink to fool his mind into thinking everything was all right. Hastelloy did anything and everything he could to avoid downtime because that brought with it his past, his demons.

  None of those diversions were available to him now. There was no one with whom to talk, no computer terminal to run his research queries. His final plan of action was already in motion and under the guidance of his infinitely capable crew. There was nothing for him to do now except lie on his bed, close his eyes, and let the demons come.

  The first to arrive was Mosa. An image of the only human he ever married blazed bright in his mind. Her youthful features and vibrant eyes brought a moment of happiness to Hastelloy. All too soon, youth faded into old age, and her eyes dulled until not a speck of vitality remained. For an instant, Hastelloy was back in the desert sands holding her frail, lifeless body in his arms. He once again had to watch as his smothering hand fell away from her nose and mouth.

  Hastelloy jolted upright in his bed with a start to find himself the only one awake in the now dark and quiet room. It was past midnight. He managed to pass a few lonely hours at least, but letting his mind wander for an entire week was not going to work. He would wind up a permanent resident of this facility if he did.

  This was not the first time Hastelloy needed to solve a problem by deviating from the initial plan. He recalled that it took numerous attempts before the ‘discover
y’ of the North and South American continents took hold with the major European powers. That entire process, Hastelloy recognized, was yet another demon from his past.

  It took three tries and nearly five hundred years to tap into the limitless potential pent up in the American continents and employ them to end the Alpha threat in this solar system once and for all. However, if Hastelloy was completely honest with himself, that entire process of discovery represented the greatest failure of his existence and was worth revisiting in his mind to find where he went wrong.

  With that intention, Hastelloy closed his eyes once more and let his mind venture back. Soon the snapping sounds of a canvas sail in the wind transported his mind back to his first voyage of discovery to the Americas.

  Chapter 1: Leif the Lucky (1000 AD)

  “LAND, I SEE land!” a crewman shouted from the front of the boat. As if it were a sudden call to arms, all thirty-five crewmen aboard lurched to their feet to have a look for themselves. In doing so, they nearly capsized the small ocean-going vessel.

  Hastelloy remained seated at his post with oar in hand to marvel at the awesome power of words, even a single word if the context was right. Someone yelling land in the middle of a farm field would draw no attention at all. However, the spotter on board a tiny boat in the middle of a vast ocean shouting that same word drew instant action from everyone within earshot. Land was in sight. The crew was no longer lost in the unknown. Land meant safety and continued life.

  In truth, it had not been that long since the ship left the familiar shores of Greenland. The voyage from Denmark to Iceland and then on to Greenland was over two thousand miles and took a month to traverse. This comparatively short journey westward took only four days. The difference was that everyone on board already knew that Iceland and Greenland were there. Their fellow Norsemen discovered and settled the land long ago. There was no uncertainty involved in the voyage other than the occasional bout with bad weather.

  Setting sail west from Greenland was an entirely different matter; it was a voyage into the unknown, and time had a way of standing still when sailing without a known destination. All they had to go on were rumors of land seen by captains whose ships were blown off course on their way to the frozen island.