Independence Day Read online

  “What is interesting,” Pandora said, “is that he was tutored by one of the last of the great Pythagorean philosophers, Tarentum. I do wonder if the Shadow killed the wrong Pythagoras.”

  “We all make mistakes,” Scout said.

  “Are they blaming you for Pythagoras’ death?” Pandora asked. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

  “No, they’re not,” Scout said. She nodded toward the armies. “So the two Legion are here to keep him alive.”

  “That is the most likely reason,” Pandora said. She pointed her Naga. “Do you see those marching closest to him, in the blue cloaks?”

  “Yes,” Scout said.

  “They are the Sacred Band of Thebes,” Pandora said. “Three hundred.”

  “Seems a popular number,” Scout said. “Leonidas had the same. But Xerxes had ten thousand Immortals.” Edith’s download was bursting with information about the Sacred Band and Scout indulged for the moment because the Theban unit was out of the norm. They were handpicked elite warriors, one-hundred-and-fifty couples, each consisting of an older male and a younger lover. The Sacred Band was invented under the concept that love would prove to be an unbreakable bond in combat; and it seemed to have worked. As she focused on them as they marched onto the plain, there was a different aura about that group in the midst of the massive army. Scout couldn’t quite place it, but they were different.

  “The Legion are among them,” Pyrrha said.

  “How?” Scout asked.

  “How are you here?” Pyrrha responded.

  Scout knew she should have expected that reply.

  “The Legion will be close to Epaminondas,” Pyrrha said. “He should die today, a spear to his chest. They will try to prevent that. This is the type of battle in which their spear and dagger work excels. If Epaminondas lives . . .”

  “You seem to be assuming everything else goes as it should today,” Scout said, remembering what Nada used to say about assumptions. He’d never mentioned anything about trusting in those who’d lied in the past, but Scout had a good idea what his opinion would have been on that topic.

  “So far,” Pandora said, “history is unfolding as it should. Epaminondas tried to capture Sparta yesterday. A quick strike, but he was too late and the gates were closed and the city ready. So he sent cavalry to take Mantinea, but they too were repulsed. He will not be able to keep his army together much longer. Too many alliances, too many competing egos. He must force a decisive battle. That is what is developing in front of us.”

  Epaminondas and the head of the Theban coalition were within three hundred meters of the Spartan coalition’s line, yet the army had not deployed. Then the first row of hoplites turned to the left and was marching parallel to the front of their enemy instead of going into battle formation.

  Scout could see the consternation in the commanders of the Spartan alliance.

  Epaminondas’ force continued the parallel march and then he halted when he reached the edge of the plain, at the base of a low ridge. A Ripple went down the long line as the army came to a stop. Epaminondas was three hundred meters away from Scout’s location and was about to turn his horse when he paused. He looked up.

  “He sees us,” Scout said.

  “He does,” Pandora agreed. “Women mean nothing in these days,” she added bitterly.

  Scout felt a connection to Epaminondas. Similar to the one she’d felt with Leonidas. There were kings and then there were leaders. Epaminondas was a leader. He stared for a moment and Scout realized his eyes had shifted and he was looking to the north of their position. She felt something flicker so fast, she was uncertain how real it had been. Epaminondas turned and began riding back along the column in no particular rush.

  Surprisingly, the Thebans and their allies began to lay down their arms, as if done for the day and getting ready to prepare lunch, instead of forming up in phalanxes and facing the other army.

  Scout checked the download and all of this was on track.

  The Spartan forces maintained their position as the sun rose to mid-day and the temperature rose. It appeared that Epaminondas’ men were encamping, rather than joining battle. The Spartan forces could only maintain their tight formations so long, before officers gave the orders for the men to go at ease.

  From her higher vantage point, Scout could see what the Spartans couldn’t: that Epaminondas army was actually in battle formation, the phalanxes loose, but close enough, with each individual just facing the wrong way. On the side away from the Spartan army, and blocked from sight by the column in front of them, companies of infantry were hustling to the left flank, shoulder to shoulder.

  Epaminondas was in the exact middle of his column, surrounded by officers and a ring of the Sacred Band. Suddenly, he mounted, rose up in his stirrups and bellowed a command that even Scout could hear at this distance:

  “Right quarter turn! Advance!”

  Those of the Theban army who’d laid down their long spears and shields snatched them up. With one motion, every man in the army did a right face and started marching. The masses coalesced into phalanxes, even as they advanced.

  The surprised Theban forces scrambled for their weapons and to reform.

  “The battle is joined,” Pandora said.

  The Possibility Palace

  Where? Can’t tell you. When? Can’t tell you.

  “Can you do it?” Sin Fen asked. Dane flanked her on one side of the table, Frasier on the other.

  Lara occupied the fourth side. “Dunno. Can you?”

  Sin Fen forced a smile. “I don’t know either, but doubtful.”

  “Why?” Lara asked.

  “I am not you,” Sin Fen said.

  “Really?” Lara indicated Dane. “You’re not from this timeline. How’d you get here?”

  “Long story,” Dane said.

  “I got a long story how I ended up here too,” Lara said.

  “Do you want to tell us?” Frasier asked, leaning forward.

  “No.”

  “Do you want to tell us how you ended up in Russia?” Frasier asked.

  “No.”

  Sin Fen spoke in a gentler tone. “Perhaps some day?”

  Lara considered the older woman for several seconds. “Perhaps. But never to him,” she pointed at Frasier without looking at him. “He thinks that thingamajig in his eye helps him see, but it actually does the opposite. He’s a blind man who doesn’t know it. Worst kind of man.”

  “Can you give us a moment,” Dane said to Frasier. Not a question.

  The psychiatrist opened his mouth to protest, thought better of it. He departed, the door closing a little too loudly behind him.

  “Listen,” Lara said to Dane and Sin Fen. “I’m messed up. Okay? I’m not even sure who I am. What I’ve done. What I haven’t done. I thought I was just plain nuts. They had me in that place. Then the Russians had me in their place. I’m not even sure how I got from one place to other. Actually from any place to any other place. I thought it was all in my head. But then I find out that maybe I am moving between parallel timelines in my head. But like for real. That my brain wasn’t making it up. Now you want me to move in time. I don’t even know if this is my timeline.”

  “We don’t either,” Dane said. “But you have something different. The Russians couldn’t figure it out. And we are trying to find out how you ended up there.”

  “The question I got,” Lara said, “is why did the Russians send me back to the States? To you guys?”

  “Because they couldn’t figure you out,” Sin Fen said. “I think you scared them.”

  “They weren’t very nice to me.” Lara indicated her head. “But I know a lot of this was even before them.”

  “The Fifth Floor,” Sin Fen said.

  Lara seemed to grow smaller in her chair. Dane glanced at Sin Fen and gave a slight shake of his head.

  “You’ll have help,” Dane said to Lara. “Amelia Earhart and her people will be in the Space Between to guide you. The window of opportunity is tight;
just the time the Shadow is keeping these bubbles open for its attack. The team has already deployed so the clock is ticking.”

  “Why me?”

  “We don’t understand how much of this works,” Dane said. “We use what we can. But your experiences, as far as we know, indicate that you’re different.”

  “Yeah, but how can I go the exact time and place?” Lara asked.

  Dane put a piece of bronze on the table. “Edith had this here and—”

  Lara interrupted. “Edith?”

  “You’ll meet her eventually,” Dane said. “She’s our primary researcher. This is a piece of the Charioteer of Delphi. Colonel Orlando briefed you on that on the way here, right?”

  “The statue that’s gone missing?” Lara asked.

  “Yes.” Dane slid it to Lara. “Except this piece hasn’t disappeared.”

  “It’s a link to Pythagoras,” Sin Fen said. “We believe it will help you find him.”

  “Before he gets killed?” Lara picked up the sliver of bronze.

  “That’s the idea,” Dane said.

  “But,” Lara said, “this Greek guy got killed before he could sculpt this. That’s what that happy fellow in the uniform told me. Orlando.”

  “Correct,” Sin Fen said. “That’s why we believe that token will get you to him.”

  “How?” Lara asked.

  “The Russians think you have the ability to affect things with your mind at a distance,” Sin Fen. “Not just see things, but actually, I’m not quite sure how to describe it. Nudge things.”

  “You want me to nudge this Pythagoras dude?” Lara asked. “What? Trip him before he gets killed.”

  “That would work,” Dane said. “Seriously. But we’re not sure that’s what you can do. What you might be able to do is nudge someone’s thoughts who can stop him. Scout said there were priestesses who controlled who got to see the Oracle. One of them is named Cyra. If you can get her to keep Pythagoras from the Corycian Cave, then . . .”

  “Mess with her mind?” Lara didn’t wait for an answer. “You know how much my mind has been messed with?”

  Dane and Sin Fen didn’t say anything for a few moment.

  Sin Fen leaned forward. “It’s a loose end in our timeline. It might not be important, but it also could be. We don’t know and we don’t want to find out. We have a window of opportunity now to fix it. If you can do it.”

  “You want me to clean up your mistake?” Lara said.

  “We want you to help us,” Sin Fen said. “Please?”

  “Can I get some ice cream?” Lara asked. “I haven’t had good ice cream in a while.”

  “Of course,” Sin Fen replied.

  “Okay then.”

  The unanimous Declaration of the thirteen United States of America

  We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our Separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, Enemies in War, in Peace Friends.

  The Missions Phase III

  Entebbe, Uganda, 4 July 1976 A.D.

  “SHORE,” AVI ORDERED. “Now!”

  There was the maxim of ‘no man left behind’ and then there was being eaten alive.

  The team began to swim furiously toward the shoreline a half-mile distance, each man on his back. Eagle lifted his head out of the water every so often to stay oriented to the shore and the rest of the team. He was falling behind, towing the body. He spotted a log in the water to his left front as he did a quick check ahead, then realized it wasn’t a log as massive jaws opened.

  The swimmer in front of Eagle tried to evade the beast, but the jaws snapped shut on his arm. Blood spurted into the air as the limb was severed and the man flailed about, which attracted a half-dozen more crocodiles.

  The commando screamed briefly as he was torn to bits.

  Eagle went hard right. He ran into Avi.

  “Cut the bodies and rucks loose. Leave them,” Eagle hissed. He didn’t add that the expedient meals would gain them some time; that was implicit.

  Avi jerked his dive knife out as Eagle did the same. Eagle pulled the body to him and slashed. Even though the heart wasn’t pumping, blood would seep out. He cut the line. Together, he and Avi swam for shore, shoulder to shoulder.

  A surprised shout came from the right, then a yelp, followed by a lot of splashing. Eagle focused on making his legs churn as hard and fast as possible, not considering what was likely to happen.

  He lifted his head, spotting Avi just ten feet away, ahead of him. But the team leader had stopped, head swiveling to and fro. Eagle saw the reason for the halt. A half-dozen crocodiles had formed a semi-circle in front of him. Eagle stopped finning as he reached Avi.

  “This is not good,” the Israeli said.

  There were more screams in various directions.

  None of them ever made it ashore, Eagle thought. Then why am I here?

  Avi began to edge backward, barely moving his fins, trying not to provoke the beasts.

  “What are they waiting on?” Avi asked.

  Edith had, of course, provided information on crocodiles in the download. Grim information. “They hunt in packs,” Eagle said. “They’re corralling us.” He looked over his shoulder then tapped Avi on the arm. “Behind us too.”

  The humps, indicating the crocodile heads, were easy to spot above the flat surface of the lake. It was an extremely calm night, with no breeze disturbing the surface.

  Eagle reached for the Uzi strapped to his chest. He knew it would fire underwater but water is 800 times denser than air and the bullet would only go a few feet. He’d have to pull it up out of the water.

  “I’ll try to shot a path through,” Eagle said, fumbling with the straps.

  “I have grenades,” Avi said. “I will make a distraction, draw them to me, then detonate.”

  Eagle looked past the circle of death. The shore was still two hundred yards away. There’d been no more screams or splashing.

  “Are you ready to try for it?” Avi asked. He had one hand out of the water, a grenade in it.

  Eagle stopped trying to get the Uzi. He wasn’t part of this. He had to remind himself of that. He might be able to escape. History wouldn’t be changed. But—

  A tentacle lifted an eight-foot crocodile out of the water, its tail flailing, then it was pulled under. Another tentacle wrapped around the croc next to it and snatched it down into the dark water.

  “What the?” Avi exclaimed.

  More tentacles writhed through the water, searching, grabbing crocodiles. There were mouths on the end of the tentacles, lined with sharp teeth, snapping and biting, boring through.

  “Kraken,” Eagle said. “Come!” He began finning for a break in the deadly noose, hoping the kraken were here only for the crocodiles.

  Avi didn’t argue, swiftly following.

  As he swam, Eagle felt something brush his side, slithering along, probing, and then it was gone.

  Not today, Eagle thought. His mind was racing, the possibilities of this unexpected attack looming, but he forced himself to focus on swimming, checking the shoreline.

  Something brushed Eagle’s shoulder and he rolled, then realized it was a plant. He rolled back, finned and his feet thumped into mud.

  They were in the swamp, but not safe.

  Eagle rolled once more, getting to his knees, then standing. Avi was about six feet to his right. They began pressing forward, into the swamp, feet churning in the mud.

  Too slow, Eagle thought. Too slow.

  With four clawed feet, the crocs could move faster in this. It occurred to Eagle as he struggled through the swamp that no one had fired their weapons, maintaining noise discipline despite the horrific attacks. There was a lot of splashing behind them and Eagle risked a glance over his shoulder. The surface of the water was alive with tentacles, at least fifty or sixty.

  Eagle reached dry land and waist-high grass. He ran forward twenty feet, then spun about, readying the Uzi. He spotted a tall, slim figure to his left and recognized Avi.<
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  “Here,” Eagle hissed.

  Avi ran over then gestured for him to kneel. “See anyone else?” the team leader asked as he readied his sniper rifle.

  “No.”

  “What are those things?” Avi asked. “What did you say in the water?”

  “Kraken,” Eagle said.

  “What is that? Why are they attacking the crocodiles? Why not us?”

  The third question was the key one.

  Eagle knew the answer, although he couldn’t tell Avi: The Shadow wants us alive.

  Gettysburg, 4 July 1863

  Roland took a step back, reassessing, considering drawing his revolver, reassessing again as the man reversed one of the blades, readying it for throwing. Roland knew the man could throw the knife faster than Roland could draw the revolver, cock it, and fire.

  Magnificent Seven, Roland thought. James Coburn.

  Roland lunged forward. The scavenger re-reversed the blade and all Roland saw was a flurry of steel and then the bright burn of pain as one of the man’s daggers cut a thin line across Roland’s forehead.

  He could have killed me, Roland realized, taking a step back. He didn’t kill me.

  He felt pain on the back of his knife hand and risked a glance. He’d been cut there too, not deep, but long. He didn’t even remember seeing that.

  “Who are you?” Roland asked, shaking blood and rain out of his eyes.

  “Dead are dead,” the man said, tapping the body he’d been plundering with his boot. “Why do you care what’s done to them? That’s what does everyone in. Weakness. Had a feeling that would draw you in.”

  “I’m guessing your name is Legion,” Roland said, remembering Scout’s debrief from her D-Day mission to ancient Greece.

  “Technically, our name is Legion for we are many.” He grinned, no humor or joy in his dead eyes. “You don’t need my name, because you’re going to be dust soon. Dust to dust, isn’t it?”

  Roland snorted. “Hell, a girl on my team has killed two of you guys. You’re not so tough.”

  “By herself? I don’t think so.”