Culmination (Baldwin's Legacy Book 3) 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

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Epilogue

  Hierarchy (Baldwin's Legacy Book 4)

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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

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  Nathan’s books are also available on Audible!

  Lights Over Cloud Lake

  The Manuscript

  Red Creek

  Return to Red Creek

  Baldwin’s Legacy

  Confrontation

  Unification

  Culmination

  Hierarchy

  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 Resistance Series

  Rift

  Revenge

  Return

  Prologue

  The breeze against Ina’s face was refreshing. She closed her eyes, the hot sun beating down on her cheeks, the rays comforting rather than invasive. Ina spent most of her life underground, but was grateful to have been on surface duty for the last few weeks.

  Others dreaded the endless chores, but she appreciated the time working here more than most. Living below had never felt right to her, as if it went in objection to her basic needs. Not many agreed with her on the subject, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Her hair was trimmed short; choppy thick strands stuck up at all angles, and she ran a dirty hand through it as she soaked up the sunlight.

  “Break isn’t for another two hours, Ina. You better hope they don’t catch you slacking like this,” Carl said, bumping her as he walked by with an armful of moss.

  “I was just feeling the wind,” she said softly, crouching to pick up her latest load of the soft green substance. It was damp along her forearms, and she smiled to herself at the stolen moment of peace that was now over.

  “I don’t care what you were doing. If you don’t want to feel the whip, you’d better cut it out,” Carl said, glancing at her as he moved toward the gathering pile. Their task was nearly completed, which meant they’d be leaving the surface, not to return for months.

  Over the years, she’d made it her mission to steal bits of time where she could, fractions of minutes here and there. Ina worked hard, perhaps harder than most, and she thought this allowed her the ability to enjoy herself on occasion. No one cared. The Adepts never bothered her about it; only the other people in her Group complained.

  They all knew she was favored over them, and they sought to knock her down where they could. Ina didn’t care. None of this was the way it should be. Humans shouldn’t live below the ground, nor should any of the other races in her Group.

  She walked to the stack of moss, dropping her load at the edge. She wiped her hands on her pants and watched as the other hundred people finished their task.

  “Good work, Group,” Nadin said, her yellow eyes enhanced in the sunlight. “Since we have finished early, we can head below. Once we have the carts loaded.” Nadin was a small woman, her nose pinched, her mouth always tight-lipped, making her appear angry – which she often was.

  Carl stood beside Ina, and she watched as his gaze drifted to the fields far beyond their Group. She followed along, seeing the huge metal object rising into the sky. It was hideous, yet beautiful. Arms stretched wide, at least ten of them, jutting from the center of the ship. It was rare to catch a glimpse of the Adepts’ vessels, and she almost felt special today. What were they doing? Where did they go while the Groups remained below ground?

  She’d never been on one, but she’d heard the old stories, as most of the Group had at one point in their lives. Ina was third generation, but she held her mother’s spirit close to her heart. As Ina watched the vessel roar into the air, continuing as it lifted through the atmosphere, she thought about her mother’s whispered words late at night.

  This isn’t our way. You’re human, Ina. Your grandfather was from Earon, a lieutenant in the War, the same War that ended with him captured. We are slaves. Don’t forget it. Never forget it.

  Ina had been so young, confused by the hushed ranting, but she’d promised she’d defy them, to fight where she could, and that was why Ina took her little breaks. Tiny infractions to let the Adepts realize not everyone could be indoctrinated by their lies. Her mother had been taken a week later, along with fifty others. That was the way of the Adepts.

  Most of her Group had forgotten the old ways. Few remained from the second generation, with the exception of the elders like Nadin, and they showed no signs of passing on lessons from the first generation: the ones that had been taken in the War so long ago.

  Carl grunted as he closed the cages around the collection of moss, and Ina helped him power up the controller. He passed it to her, and she used the lever to direct the cart toward the opening in the ground. A lift arrived, and Nadin motioned her to drive the load to its destination.

  Soon Ina was heading below the surface, the heat of the sun, the gentle breeze a distant memory that she’d cling to until the next time she was chosen for work duty. She wished she could volunteer to take someone’s spot, but they weren’t allowed to swap roles. It was forbidden.

  A tall thin man met them below, his eyes hollow, his skin pallid. “Leave the cart. You are to head to Five.” His voice croaked like he hadn’t spoken in days.

  Ina’s heart raced with an instant flash of fear. Five. That was where her mother had gone so many years ago. That was where they all went, with no hope of returning.

  “It’s our time,” Carl said, a shimmer of indignation across his face.

  Ina saw it now. They were slaves, pitiful and beaten. Whatever the Adepts wanted with them, it had something to do with the War. For fifty years, her people had been forced to live here, to feed themselves, to manufacture clothing, to build ships for the Adepts, to procreate, so their population would grow.

  Ina could hardly feel a thing as she plodded through the corridor at the front of the line. All one hundred of her Group were moving toward Five, and she nearly turned as they neared the exit for Two. That was their home, the massive city, giving them residence and so much more. It wasn’t a bad place to inhabit, but after feeling the sun on her face, painfully aware she wouldn’t see it for months on end again, she was almost ready for the next step. Perhaps her mother was still in Five. Maybe this was the start of her new life, one she could finally be happy with.

  Judging by the expressions on the rest of the Group’s faces, they didn’t think so. Whispered rumors claimed it was the end of the line. The people that had served their purpose were moved there, never to be seen again. Once, Ina had heard a man mention a device the Adepts used to wipe the minds of the Groups. Then they were put into armor and transferred to one of the huge ugly vessels.

  Was Ina going to suffer the same fate? Was her mother alive on one of the ships, drifting through space with no memory of Ina or her previous life? At least she would discover what it was all about. She wouldn’t have to speculate on what her existence meant any longer.

  The corridors had always felt homey, bright and tall, but as she strode onwards, past Three, then Four, they were shrinking around her. Her legs were already aching from a hard day’s work, and others were protesting as they moved toward Five. The exit was unassuming, the same as the others: a giant metal doorway, this one with dents on the outside. Ina pictured a previous Group fighting back before being pressed through the entrance. She glanced to the floor, half-expecting to see blood stains, but the surface was clean, nearly immaculate.

  “What do you think is on the other side?” Carl had found her, and he stared forward, eyes unblinking.

  “Our deaths,” Ina said softly.

  There were none o
f the Adepts here, only their Group. Nadin led them, taking orders from whoever had left the instructions.

  “I’m ready,” Carl said.

  “I’m not. We don’t have to do this,” Ina said, her voice rising in volume. “There can be another way. None of the Adepts are here. We can keep going.”

  “Five is the end of the line,” Nadin said, frowning.

  Ina’s cheeks swelled as she inhaled a lungful of recycled air. “Why do you say that? Because they told you so? Look” – Ina pointed down the corridor, where the path continued – “there’s more here. Perhaps our salvation lies beyond.”

  Nadin shook her head. “Wrong, child.” She pulled out a weapon tucked into the back of her pants. Ina had never seen the woman armed before, and she stepped away. The door opened, and out came five of the Adepts, their dark exoskeletons ominous and intimidating as they waved weapons around. Their mandibles clicked in anger, and Ina hid among the rest of her people.

  Her rush of rebellion was washed away in cold sweat as she watched the Adepts motion her people through the door and into Five. She kept her head down, trying not to lock gazes with any of the Adepts. It worked, and soon she was out of the corridor and into the mysterious section of their underground home.

  The space was wide open, a massive courtyard with hundred-foot-tall ceilings, and she peered up to see dozens of the Adepts leaning over balconies, wearing dark robes, and they chanted as the people were urged into the area.

  The door labeled "Five" slammed shut, sealing them in. The sound might as well have been the snapping of a rope around her neck. The rest of her people – some Tekol, Callalay, Zilph’i, and human – stood frozen, gawking at the Adepts chanting around them.

  “This can’t be good,” Carl said from beside Ina.

  She only shook her head, unable to find words. The lights dimmed, and her captors grew quiet as one of the Adepts walked from the far end of the room toward the one hundred newly-arrived people.

  His robes were long; two young Adepts trailed behind him, struggling to keep the fringes of cloth off the floor. He was tall, wider than most of the others, and Ina guessed he was older. His eyes were rheumy, his mandibles a lighter shade of gray than his counterparts’.

  Ina heard Carl’s shallow breathing as the entire gathered courtyard waited for the man to speak. His mandibles clicked together, chattering in their language, which Ina and the others all understood after so long in their presence.

  “Welcome, children. You have been selected for a great honor. We’re thrust into another war and expect our enemies to arrive soon. We aren’t positive when, but we will be ready for them. The Concord has long been a stain on the canvas of our universe. We’re instructed to destroy them, and once we do, enlightenment will finally be upon us,” he said, and the chanting began in earnest. He lifted a hand, the harmonized tones ceasing. “You one hundred have the honor no other of your kind will attain.”

  Ina waited for it, leaning forward slightly. How many of them had passed through these doors before her? She suspected thousands.

  “War is coming, my children. And you are going to help us win once and for all.”

  The Adept stared directly at Ina, and the last shred of hope vanished within her as his dark deadly eyes remained unblinking.

  One

  Tom ran as fast as he could, swinging his racket right on time. The glowing ball buzzed as it raced away from him, and he jammed his shoulder into the wall, unable to avoid it at the last minute. He stayed there panting as he watched Brax fail to return the volley. The big Tekol leaned over as the score changed along the wall.

  They were tied up. “Captain, I know I agreed to take it easy on you, but the least you could have done was tell me you were this good.” Brax’s words came out in between gasping breaths and pants.

  Tom straightened, testing his shoulder. Not injured. That was a relief. “Brax, if I told everyone I was trained by a four-time Vulti champion, no one would play with me.”

  Brax stared at him, shaking his head. “You were trained by Bull Hendle? You have to be kidding me. It must have been nice growing up with unlimited resources.”

  Tom shrugged and waited for Brax to pass the glowing ball over to him. The game was quite simple. There was a barrier in the center of the court; the walls were fair game. All you had to do was hit the three surfaces before the ball was returned, and you gained a point. It didn’t matter whether you bounced it from ceiling to rear wall to floor, as long as all three were on your opponent’s side of the court.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re tied up, Brax. It seems his lessons only went so far,” Tom said, bouncing the ball on his racket. Blue beams of energy stretched over the square paddle.

  “I got lucky a few times. Remind me to invite Tarlen next time instead,” Brax told him.

  “I’ve given the boy a few lessons. I think he’ll be pretty good.”

  “Of course he will be,” Brax muttered.

  It was common knowledge that Brax considered himself a slow learner, someone that had to work twice as hard to attain his position, but after knowing the Tekol chief of security for a few months, Tom didn’t doubt the man’s intelligence and perseverance one bit.

  Tom was about to serve when Constantine’s AI appeared at the center of the court. “Captain, your presence has been requested by one of the prisoners. Again.”

  “Tell him I’m busy,” Tom said, trying to not let himself be goaded by the bastard.

  “You misunderstand, sir. It’s Seda Keen that wants a word with you,” Constantine said.

  Seda Keen. The surname attached to her made Tom grip the racket tighter. “She’s asked for me before?”

  “Several times, but I didn’t think you were interested in speaking with the prisoners.”

  “Why’s that?” Tom asked him.

  “Because you specifically told me you weren’t interested in talking with any of the prisoners,” Constantine said, a slight wry grin on his face.

  “Fine. Tell her I’ll be there in a while. I have a match to win first.” Tom watched as Constantine gave a curt nod and vanished.

  “What’s that about? Think she’s going to try to offer you something for her freedom?” Brax asked.

  Tom hadn’t told the others about his previous relationship with Seda. It had been ages prior, not much more than an innocent tryst that had ended with her running away with Lark Keen, his best friend. Tom hated the Assembly and all they stood for.

  “I have no idea. I guess I’ll find out,” he said. “Ready to lose?”

  Brax seemed to consider this, but he shook his head, beads of sweat dripping off his forehead. “I don’t think so, Captain.”

  “Good.” Tom served, and Brax returned a high shot, hitting the top right corner behind Tom. He lunged, knocking the ball off the side wall directly at Brax, who narrowly stepped away from it, returning it with a weak backhand.

  Tom’s knees protested as he darted toward center court, taking a long backswing. It worked. Brax was moving in reverse, preparing for a hard shot, and Tom tapped the ball upwards. It hit the ceiling and then the wall as the ball spun, landing precisely on the right side of the hip-high energy barrier that separated the two players.

  Brax groaned as Tom’s score changed and flashed bright yellow. Victory was his.

  “Next time, I won’t take it so easy on you. I don’t care if you’re my captain or not.” Brax headed to the side of the court, setting his racket down.

  Tom picked up a towel, hanging it over his damp hair. “You did well, Brax. A worthy adversary. You realize what this means, though, right?”

  Brax wiped his face with a towel and shook his head. “No.”

  “It means we now have a standing weekly match. It’s invigorating that I have some competition on this ship.” Tom patted Brax on the shoulder as they walked out of the facility and towards the change room. He’d been thrilled to learn they’d added a Vulti court on Constantine, and he was glad to make use of it finally. The old man had loved the sport when he’d been younger and had continued to play in his advanced years, albeit not often with Tom.

  Tom recalled beating his grandfather for the first time, Constantine angrily tossing his racket as the last point settled on the scoreboard. He’d refused to play Tom again, always making an excuse, but never admitting Tom was the better player.