Deputy Marshal Designate Anatt Yasin decided to check her first major report as Off World Commander just one more time before sending it back to Guardian Headquarters.

  Her teams had been very busy over the past few months, preparing the details of their findings regarding this beautiful planet and its suitability as a future colonization candidate. And truth be told, reading the contents again gave her a great deal of personal satisfaction.

  Satisfied by the content and flow of her report, Anatt realized she had time for an invigorating run through the forest with Felix—the resident Guappa who had introduced himself to her on their second day planetside—before ensuring the Proteus got underway on the epic journey home.

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Evidently, something about Anatt’s own character appealed to the Guppa’s feline temperament. From the moment they met, he had bonded to her and now insisted on leaving all manner of gifts inside her footwear on an almost daily basis. Sadly, not all of those offerings were dead.

  Old District – Tokyo – December 2nd

  Ensconced within his private suite in the penthouse complex atop the Yeung Technologies tower block, Lei Yeung was treating himself to a well-earned break. He’d spent that morning preparing some preliminary facts and figures with his accountants and lawyers for the New Year’s board meeting. Those statistics showed the corporation’s stocks and shares as “over performing” by an index of at least seventeen percent against their closest competitors.

  Skimming the notes he’d made brought a smile to his weathered face. Against all the odds, the return of the Guardians had been very good for business and his Apostles would be delighted with the revenue generated through their dominion of the scientific and medical markets. And all the more so when they discover the size of their bonuses for this year.

  He chuckled to himself. How easy people are to manipulate when offered an appropriate . . . incentive.

  As Yeung picked up the next batch of confidential files needing appraisal, he decided the time was ripe for a light lunch. Pressing the intercom button beside his chair, he waited for the gravelly tones of his personal chef, ninety-six year old Tome Dui to answer.

  “Shacho-San, what can I fix for you today?”

  “Not much, Dui-San,” Yeung replied. “Just a Kani salad will be fine. I don’t want to be dozing off during my conference calls.”

  Laughing, the wizened cook replied, “Ah, I can sympathize. Your meal won’t take long. Do you require a suitable sake to compliment the spices I’ll be using?”

  “Not this time, old friend. A mineral water will be sufficient.”

  Yeung ended the call and began checking through his outline again while he waited. Even though some of their latest projects were well ahead of schedule, it was the unorthodox application of one or two of them his Apostles would be most interested in.

  Only three days ago, one of his project leaders, Dr. Brent Leech—who was heading the development of the Energy Mirror Units, or EMUs as they had been dubbed—had stumbled across an unconventional adaptation to their use. He’d discovered that, with certain adjustments, the EMUs might be capable of negating the psychic and physical forces generated by the Guardians in their day-to-day affairs.

  Leech remembered a conversation with Marty Mays back in November, whereby the Fire Chief described how his abilities had begun to mesh with and mirror the various energetic emissions used by the Guardians as they went about their work in the Channel Tunnel. He went on to explain that the Guardians seemed to employ some form of natural and technological reactive element to those emissions which were able to recognize what he was doing, before modulating away from him, thereby preventing his mirroring ability from locking on, mimicking and nullifying the process.

  Intrigued, Leech had engaged in a bit of afterhours tinkering on a separate prototype and had managed to create an emitter that was able to cycle through a variety of physical and esoteric vibratory wavelengths.

  Reminding himself of the summary of that report, Yeung could see the conclusion was highlighting the fact that those frequencies may be limited at the moment and far too slow to be of use, but the potential for improvement was huge. Thinking of the other activities the Council was committed to, Yeung couldn’t help but ponder what would happen if he could micro-size that new technology, as anything that helped speed the day when he could effectively counter those interfering do-gooders permanently would be most welcome.

  The latest bit of news he wanted to chew over arrived this very morning and related to their bid to be the sole manufacturers of the new line of Wave Readers. His company was down to the final two applicants! A good start. But Yeung wasn’t going to allow something as mundane as odds to dictate the reshuffling of his strategy, or indeed, the final outcome. Deciding there and then to ensure their competitors received a visit from one of his problem solving teams before things progressed any further, he felt much better. Yes, I think the next month or two will usher in all sorts of fresh prospects; prospects that will sustain our drive well into the next fiscal year.

  The buzzer to his outer door sounded. Ah, lunch!

  It wasn’t until he’d pressed the buzzer that Yeung realized he couldn’t sense Tome’s aura. Instead, he perceived the muted emanations of his head of security, Harry Bing.

  Puzzled, he called mentally: Harry?

  No reply was forthcoming from his strongly telepathic employee, who for some reason was broadcasting a disturbing mélange of dread, alarm and frustration.

  “Harry, what’s wrong?” Yeung called out. At the same time, he reached toward the emergency button below his desk.

  A disembodied voice answered. There is nothing physically wrong with your security director . . . for the moment. And so long as you comply, he will remain unharmed.

  Guardians! Yeung thought. Depressing the button, he glancing toward the files on his desk, which he now wished were safely hidden away in the strong room. Instinctively, he started moving.

  The same voice replied to his unspoken panic. Oh no, my friend, we are not Guardians. Far from it! In fact, we have reason to hate them even more than you do.

  What? The passion lacing that statement caught Yeung by surprise.

  Pausing mid-step, he turned to look toward the atrium leading into the suite. Harry entered; red faced, sweating, eyes bulging wide as he fought against the compulsion dominating his actions. Walking like an automaton, he led the way before a group of three people Yeung recognized . . . or thought he recognized, as their psyches didn’t register.

  Momentarily confused he scrutinized at each face. That’s Simon Cooper and his pin-up team, Harry Johnson and Esther Perry. What are they doing here? Their assignment in Antarctica can’t have finished already?

  Intuition kicked in.

  “Who the blazes are you?” Yeung roared, gathering his strongest psychoenergetic shield and releasing a shockwave of auto suggestive power that should have had them turning and running for the hills.

  Simon appeared unfazed and smiled. “I plainly told you, your security manager was safe only so long as you behaved. Now it appears I have to demonstrate the integrity of my resolve.” He made a sign, and Harry flew through the air toward the reinforced windows as if he’d been dropkicked by a giant. When he hit the centermost triple-glazed pane dead center, it cracked, splintering into a weblike network of chaos.

  Somehow, it held and Harry bounced back to land on the floor in a bloody mess.

  Yeung’s attention remained locked on this unexpected opponent, but his mind screamed to his colleague: Teleport you idiot! Now!

  Harry shook his head, trying vainly to clear a skull filled with jumbled wits. Yeung could tell he was hampered by the pain, but knew he was gathering enough focus to initiate a jump to safety.

  Loyal to a fault, Harry risked a glance at his boss: I’ll bring help.

  It’s already on the way. For goodness sake, get out of here!

  That delay cost Harry dearly. Esther stamped forward and delivered a savage telekinetic blow that not only knocked the hapless security chief unconscious, but sent him sailing out through the shattered remains of the window.

  Harry disappeared from sight amid an angry swarm of glass, and began his race to extinction six hundred and fifty feet below. Refusing to show fear, Yeung declared, “That was reckless. Can you imagine the unnecessary attention his death will generate as his body splatters all over the sidewalk? Are you not aware the Guardians are alerted by such things very easily?”

  Esther spat obscenities in reply, but a warning from Simon stayed her wrath.

  Moments later, a pulse of light signaled the timely retrieval of Yeung’s erstwhile protector. As Harry lay there oblivious, rasping for breath through shattered ribs and ruined lungs, his namesake Harry Johnson strolled over to him, knelt and placed a hand on his chest. Yeung initially thought the act to be a benevolent one, assuming his injured employee would be rendered some form of aid.

  He was mistaken.

  Convulsing once, Harry Bing crumbled to dust before Yeung’s eyes, his essence having been consumed with sickening ease.

  A master of strategy, Yeung knew he was hopelessly outgunned. Even so, he retained the presence of mind to realize these people needed him for something.

  He decided to take a risk. “If you harm one more of my people, be assured you will find the consequences most unpleasant. You are no doubt aware I have alerted my staff, and they will respond from around the globe very quickly. That you are beyond us individually is clear, but together? We shall see. Appreciate too, our conflict may also be heard in places neither of us would be comfortable with. How do you think you’d fare against those you say we hate in common? I would really hate the thought of being indebted to them.”

  Yeung held his breath, not daring even to blink.

  Still bristling at his defiance, the one who looked like Esther Perry let her barriers drop slightly. The merest hint of the awesome power she possessed radiated from every pore of her body. As she started toward him, Yeung felt an invisible clashing of authority that stalled her approach. Gods, what is she?

  Shifting his perceptions into the esoteric spectrum, Yeung was stunned by what he saw. While the people in front of him appeared normal to mundane sight, their psi-wells revealed them to be the complete opposite. Huge golden and blue halos surrounded them. Intertwined with a myriad of rainbow hues, each color was garlanded in vibrant bands of silver. A million and one tactical options vied for Yeung’s attention. They are extremely powerful and profess an abhorrence of the Guardians. Regardless of the danger involved, I have to find out why . . . Very well, let’s see how this plays out.

  “Peace sister,” Simon cooed in the meantime. “This human only needs to appreciate his place in the scheme of things, and we will have found ourselves a valuable ally against our true foe.”

  “We need no help from the likes of them,” she spat back.

  Harry Johnson put a restraining hand on her arm. “Patience Hest . . . Esther. They are far beyond the mortals we are used to and possess sufficient technology to prove useful in the fight ahead.”

  Simon stepped toward Yeung. “Useful indeed.”

  Human? Mortals? Yeung remained still as Simon walked right into his personal space and began studying him closely. He didn’t flinch, not even when the doppelganger stooped so close that they were almost touching, nose to nose. Staring right back, he allowed his bitter hatred of the Guardians to radiate from the core of his being, and said: I may be past my prime, but look into my mind. Witness the depth of my patience and cunning. How else could a humble Chinese peasant rise through the ranks of the Japanese Brotherhood to become unrivaled among the Bosses? That was no easy feat, let me tell you. Nor was it child’s play to manipulate the world’s markets and media to become their leading light.

  Simon’s gaze softened. Motioning toward the couch, he said. “Shacho-Yeung. Forgive me; no, forgive us. In our haste to exact revenge on a mutual enemy, I fear we may have vented our ire unwisely and got off on the wrong foot.”

  Yeung breathed out slowly and joined the predator on the couch, taking care to sit as far away as possible. “It is custom to drink tea while conducting business that involves a degree of trust and cooperation. Would you care to join me?”

  Simon inclined his head and Yeung placed another call to his chef. As he did so, he couldn’t fail to notice the crackling discharges still jumping through Esther’s hair and from her exposed extremities. She views me with nothing but contempt. That will have to change if progress is to be made . . . and swiftly.

  Harry Johnson went to Yeung’s desk and started rummaging through several files without asking. Raising his eyebrows at their contents, he repeatedly looked toward Simon and Esther, obviously discussing something with them telepathically.

  The silence grew for a minute until the buzzer sounded.

  Yeung asked, “Is it within your capabilities to do something about the window? My man is bound to notice the damage and wonder where Mister Bing is.”

  Simon shrugged and waved. Moments later the glass was fully restored.

  That kind of raw power will prove most useful . . . if it can be harnessed. Aloud, Yeung called out, “Dui-San, you may come in.”

  Pushing his way past the armed contingent crowding the exterior of the main entrance, Yeung’s ancient servant eyed everyone in the room in wary silence before shuffling across to place a tray of tea and refreshments before his master.

  “Thank you, Dui-San,” Yeung began. “Now, would you please inform everyone—and I do stress, everyone—that I’m not to be disturbed. I have urgent matters to discuss with some new . . .” He paused to look at the strange trio, but especially at Simon who appeared to lead these mysterious beings, “associates who may be able to accelerate our timetable considerably.”

  Dui bowed in response and, as he left the room, Yeung mentally affirmed his instructions: My friend, ask the security team to remain close by. If I do need them, ensure Angelika responds with extreme prejudice. Tell her, the “Ashai Protocol” is to be followed to the letter. If necessary, blow this place apart, whether I’m here or not.

  The aged chef glanced back and nodded on his way out, indicating he had understood and would ensure those orders were passed on.

  Yeung then turned his attention to Simon. “It is the time for truth and trust. If you wish to do business, I need to know who you really are and what you want.”

  “That, my newfound partner, makes for an interesting story.” Simon helped himself to tea. “We have been out of circulation for a long, long time, but we know your current adversary and his minions with an intimacy born from millennia of conflict. You on the other hand have only had to contend with them for a relatively short period. Even so, you have accurately surmised they are weeds, prolific vines that will choke the life from your goals and aspirations if left unchecked. Our experience and power—together with your considerable assets and influence—may forge a union that ends their supremacy over humanity, leaving us all where we rightfully belong.”

  With you at the top, no doubt. “I have to admit, that sounds out of this world,” Yeung confessed. “But how would you propose we actually do that?”

  Simon lowered his voice and spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “For a start, we could show you exactly how to achieve the more interesting aspirations you have in mind for the EMU devices mentioned in your reports over there.” He indicated the woman called Esther. “My fellow collaborator is a noteworthy scientist and tells me she can ensure they function as you desire, and very quickly too.”

  She can? Yeung smiled warmly in her direction, ensuring to project an appropriate degree of formality and respect into the gesture so that it couldn’t be construed in the wrong way. Edging along the couch, he murmured, “Please, tell me everything.”

  For the next two hours, he listened to a tale so incredulous, that it not only made him forget about the planned conference calls, but also about the untimely death of a very close and personal friend, who would be very difficult to replace.