The Deities (The Survivors Book Fourteen) Read online

  Contents

  Title

  Copyright © 2020

  Books by Nathan Hystad

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Epilogue

  New Beginning (The Survivors Book 15)

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  Copyright © 2020 Nathan Hystad

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Cover art: Tom Edwards Design

  Edited by: Scarlett R Algee

  Proofed and Formatted by: BZ Hercules

  Books By Nathan Hystad

  Keep up to date with his new releases by signing up for his Newsletter at www.nathanhystad.com

  Nathan’s books are also available on Audible!

  Baldwin’s Legacy

  Confrontation

  Unification

  Culmination

  Hierarchy

  Lineage

  Legacy

  The Survivors Series

  The Event

  New Threat

  New World

  The Ancients

  The Theos

  Old Enemy

  New Alliance

  The Gatekeepers

  New Horizon

  The Academy

  Old World

  New Discovery

  Old Secrets

  The Deities

  New Beginning

  The Manuscript

  Lights Over Cloud Lake

  Red Creek

  Return to Red Creek

  Prologue

  “Dean, you have to calm down,” Mary said.

  I’d always regarded myself as level-headed, if not a little overly passionate about my causes, but my wife’s words hardly registered. “If we make the portal trip, we can beg, borrow, or steal a ship, and be at Udoon by tomorrow.”

  “Boss, let’s think about this.” Slate pointed to the couch in our living room.

  I slunk beside Mary. “Why is everyone so hell-bent on stopping me from leaving?” I glanced at Magnus’ son, Dean. He was starting to look so much like his father.

  “Because Jules knows what she’s doing,” Mary said. “She’s the only one that can kill Lom and return. You’ve seen what she’s capable of.”

  “True, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be there with her. Lom was my problem,” I muttered.

  “He’s all our problem,” Slate told me. “You’re not allowed to carry the burden for us. What Lom intended to do would have affected everyone, not only you.”

  “I could have helped her,” I said. “I still can, if you’d let me leave.”

  Mary set a cool palm on my forearm. “And what if you going to her makes things worse? You’ll be a distraction for Jules. She can do this on her own, I’m sure of it. Besides, Lom will never see this coming. He’ll be expecting you to chase after her, and when you don’t, he’ll be caught off guard. It’ll work out better for our daughter if you stay.”

  “Listen to yourself. This is Jules. Our kid. She’s not even seventeen yet!”

  Dean sat upright. “She’s a Gatekeeper, Captain Parker. She’s also the most capable person I’ve ever met. We have to trust her.”

  I raised an eyebrow at his comments. He’d been so quiet, glowering in the corner all night. “I thought you’d be joining me on my soapbox.”

  “We’ve been through a lot, and the only reason I have my mother and Patty back with me is because of Jules. If you think about what she’s accomplished, I don’t feel like her traveling to another dimension to kill Lom of Pleva is that far-fetched. She’s going to be fine, and I agree that she needs to do it alone. I risked other people’s lives because I was rambling around, searching for my sister. If Jules hadn’t been worrying about me, she could have dealt with it much quicker.”

  The kid was making good sense, and I rubbed my temples, my head starting to throb. “Fine. For the record, I’m against it.”

  “What record?” Slate asked with a grin.

  “You know what I mean. If we’re not chasing after her, what are we doing with Light?” We were far from Alliance space, and a few weeks from Haven or Shimmal.

  “Let’s go home,” Mary said. “Wait for Jules and spend time with our son. We have no pressing missions, and some down time would do the crew, and us, good.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Slate said. “Loweck has been talking about a vacation.”

  It was only the four of us in the room, as I was wary of too many people discussing my daughter’s future, and I relaxed a bit at how easily they were taking the news about Jules. Was I overreacting? I didn’t think so. Lom was more dangerous than I’d ever predicted, and his ability to travel into the portals to reach me, and to send someone between dimensions, was unparalleled. But they were right about one thing. If anyone could bring him down and return life to normal, it was my little girl. Still, Slate talking about vacationing while she was diving into peril didn’t sit quite right with me.

  “Okay. Haven it is. Dean, do you think your mother and Patty would be okay with staying near us in the city?” I asked.

  “I think they’d like that. I know I would,” he said.

  I saw his expression break, and it was obvious how worried he was about his friend. The truth was, they were more than friends, and he was probably feeling as upset by her rashness as I was. “Good. Let’s make the arrangements. Maybe we can place you with your family…”

  He shook his head. “If it’s all the same, Captain Parker, I’d prefer to stay with you guys until we make it to Haven in Light.”

  I nodded my understanding. “Then I guess we better let the bridge know what we’re planning. I’ll send word to Sarlun, and we’ll be on our way.”

  “I’ll go to the bridge, Boss. You two stay in for the night, and we’ll talk tomorrow.” Slate and Dean rose, walking out of our suite before I could respond.

  “She’s going to be okay,” Mary reassured me, but I saw the slight tremor in her hand.

  “And what are we going to do on Haven?” I asked. “This is Jules… you should have backed me up.”

  Mary frowned, abruptly standing up from the couch. Her finger jabbed into my chest. “Do you think I like it this way? That I want to stay in the comfort of our ship, pretending to be a Gatekeeper representative, when I barely leave an office? Do you assume I’m happy sitting on a board and letting everyone else do all the dangerous work? Jeez, Dean, I wish I could go after Jules too, to protect her like I’m the mother and she’s the child, but it doesn’t always work out as planned.

  “Sometimes we have to know when to step on the gas and when to brake, and my gut’s telling me this is one of the times we need to slow to a stop. Jules is a Deity.” She stopped pushing me and sank into my arms.


  I rubbed her shoulders softly. “How is this going to end?”

  She broke away, wiping a sole tear from her cheek. “Jules will return home, and then we’ll make sure she’s done with Iskios, Zan’ra, and Deities for good.”

  I nodded, pulling her in again. “Do you hate being an administrator so much?”

  “I used to kick ass,” she said quietly.

  “I know. You still can,” I assured her.

  Mary smiled at that, moving for the kitchen. “This is going to be challenging.”

  “It is.”

  “But we’re making the best decision, right?” she asked, her face expressionless.

  “We are.” It might not be how I really felt, but it was all I could say.

  I had to sit this one out, and it was eating me alive.

  The console chimed, and I saw a call coming in from the portal guards. I tapped it, hearing the frantic voice of the crew member. “Captain, you’re never going to believe who’s in front of me.”

  One

  The wind blew in from the Atlantic, reminding Lom that winter was imminent. It made him question why he’d stayed so late in the season. There were warmer places he owned in every corner of the universe. His beach property on Shimmal was probably his favorite location, but it was too far from the action.

  Lom of Pleva preferred to be in the mix and to oversee his operations from the heart of it, not from a screen millions of light years away. He lingered on the penthouse balcony, walking the perimeter. He cast his gaze over the East River and beyond, where there was nothing but ocean for thousands of kilometers.

  He wondered what it had been like for the humans so long before, when they had no means of traveling with sub-orbital jets, or portals, or interstellar ships. Being forced to take giant boats to cross these treacherous bodies of water and move across country on foot or with archaic wheeled machines.

  Damp, heavy snowflakes fell from the darkening sky as he strolled over the wrap-around balcony. They melted against the warmth of his flesh, a few white flakes sticking to the metallic side of his face. There hadn’t been anything resembling snow on Pleva when he was growing up. That time felt like an immeasurable distance from where he was currently, as if being thrown twenty years into the future along another timeline had transposed him into an alternative life: one disconnected from his real childhood.

  He looked above the tall buildings, once housing the wealthiest of New Yorkers. Now they were mostly empty, with a few of his PlevaCorp executives and some powerful allies from around the galaxies residing among them to be closer to their leader.

  Central Park remained an open greenspace, his team of robots and workers having reclaimed it to its former glory. Lom could appreciate such a place amidst the chaos. He’d always been a busy man, one so focused on his business and hostile takeovers, that he’d never taken any time to himself. Dean Parker had given him a gift that day.

  Lom finally understood what was important, and in these past few years, he’d managed to appreciate his solitude. He smiled as more flakes fell, leaving a light dusting over his dark-stained balcony deck.

  A buzzer sounded near his suite’s patio doors, and he peered over his shoulder, seeing the tiny man regarding him. He’d grown used to the single-eyed beaked creature, and he was a wealth of knowledge, proving to be an efficient assistant.

  The doors opened, sending out warm air, and he brushed the snow from his sleeves before entering. “What is it, Regnig?” Lom asked, and the small man opened his beak, his tongue protruding for a second before he answered.

  There’s something transpiring at Haven, sir. A revolt. His wings flapped with annoyance, and he shuffled toward the series of screens embedded into the far wall. A fire emanated from the hearth beneath the monitors, and Regnig stood near them, waiting for Lom.

  “Another revolt? Why am I being bothered with this? Don’t we have enough force there to squash it before they cause any real damage?” he asked.

  This isn’t just another march against cruel treatment, sir. This appears to be a concerted effort to break into the city.

  Lom took a seat at the sole chair facing the screens and slid the keypad over his lap. He glanced over the live feeds, observing his facilities on New Spero, Shimmal, Haven, and Earth, along with countless other planets his militia had liberated for Lom’s purposes. Dean Parker might have his Alliance of Worlds in his own timeline, but Lom wasn’t without countless allies here.

  He couldn’t wait to show Dean his progress when his adversary finally arrived. Lom flicked the focus to Haven and witnessed the rebellion. They were attacking the main gates to PlevaCorp, and there had to be over fifty of them, most armed with far more than pitchforks and burning torches.

  “What are they after?” Lom asked in a voice that wasn’t his. They’d initiated strikes, but nothing this drastic since he’d made the hostile invasions.

  If I were to guess, they’re after weapons, sir. Your facility on Haven is the biggest manufacturer.

  Lom frowned, pausing and zooming in on the image of the dissenters. His forces appeared to be losing the altercation, which meant one thing. She was behind this. His hand crashed onto the keypad as he recognized her face on the feed. No matter what he did, this woman and her New Union were a constant thorn in his side.

  What are your orders, sir? Regnig’s red-lined eye stared at him, and Lom paused a moment before replying.

  “Kill them. Kill them all.” His hand trembled as he stared into the blurry picture, seeing the wife of his rival. This Dean Parker was dead, as was his precious daughter, but Mrs. Parker constantly challenged his authority at every corner. While Regnig waddled off to relay his command, Lom sank into his seat. “Mary Parker, I’m going to enjoy what’s coming for you.”

  He’d cast the bait, quite certain that Dean would fall into his trap. Soon enough he’d have the man who sent him to this future, and then revenge would be his. All this time, the man had assumed Lom wanted to destroy the timelines. But why? He wasn’t just a mysterious entrepreneur any longer. He was king.

  He turned off the screens as a message from Vitair came from another time and place, where he was posted at Udoon Station. He’d chosen well with that man.

  Lom flipped to the right communication on the tablet, the words sending a thrill of anticipation through him.

  The girl arrived. We expect her father will be following.

  Lom grinned, the smile only covering the fleshy half of his face. He ran a finger over the metal part, reminding himself that without his childhood, he wouldn’t be the man he was today. He chose not to dwell on the past. He’d always let his trauma shape him, and today was no different. He was so close.

  His hand hovered above the tablet as he considered the reply. He keyed it in, hitting send before he could edit the response. Wait for Dean Parker to arrive and grant them passage. You will accompany them, Vitair. It’s time for you to reap your rewards.

  Lom set the device on the table beside him and stared at the flames in the fireplace. They crackled and flickered erratically. He rose eventually, pouring himself a drink from the bar, and took a sip, the dark liquid warming his stomach.

  “Regnig!” he shouted.

  Yes, sir? The question from the telepathic bird came from the adjacent room.

  “Make sure Mary stays alive on Haven. That Campbell guy too. I want to have some fun for our guest when he arrives,” Lom said, loud enough for Regnig to make out the words.

  A pause. It will be done.

  Lom took another drink, pondering Regnig’s loyalty. It had taken some work, years of indoctrination, but he was confident he’d clipped his proverbial wings.

  With Mary’s imminent capture at Haven, and Dean Parker about to join him in this timeline, Lom almost felt complete. He passed through the immense suite, the twenty-foot-tall ceilings making him seem short despite his seven feet.

  At the edge of the room was a door that stretched halfway up the wall, and he pressed his palm to the reader, the
lights blinking green, giving him access to the locked space. Inside was a round foyer, a single chair, and glowing light-blue energy bars sealing a prisoner behind them.

  Lom dragged the chair across the floor, the legs making an awful racket, until he let it go, resting on the wooden seat.

  “Time to wake up,” Lom told the figure lying on a soiled cot within the cell.

  “What the hell do you want, Pleva?” His voice was gruff, unused.

  “I think you’d appreciate the news. Your friends are ambitious, but we have Mary Parker in our possession. They failed. Do you realize that no one is coming for you? Tell me where the base is, and I’ll make your death swift.” Lom was tiring of this game. He didn’t take pleasure in torture, despite what others might think. He was a businessman, after all, not a madman.

  The shadowy figure shifted on the cot, leaning his head into his hands. “I don’t believe you. She wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “You let it happen,” Lom reminded him.

  He stood. “I’m no Mary Parker…”

  Lom had almost forgotten how big the prisoner was. He’d grown thinner, but Lom kept him fed. He’d spent the first couple of years thinking he might be able to train the man to work with him, like he had with Regnig, but it was evident from the start that he wanted no part in it. Even with hypnosis, he fought Lom every step of the way. Some people weren’t meant to be caged.

  He walked toward the bars, his face coming into the light. His hair was long, his beard masking a scarred face. His left eye had a puckered disfigurement under it, and his right ear was partially missing, but from this vantage point, it was covered by his shaggy mane.

  “Think about it,” Lom said. “You have one last chance.”

  “And why is that?” the man asked.

  “Because Dean Parker will arrive soon, and we have his daughter along as a secondary prize,” Lom told him.

  “You son of a…” He lunged for the bars, and the energy beam flared as he touched it, sending him scrambling.

  “Careful. You wouldn’t want to hurt that pretty face.” Lom laughed, and the man snarled at him.