A Lick of Immortality

(Left-hand Adventures Book 2)

Copyright © 2013 Arwen Jayne

All Rights Reserved

2nd Edition, 2019

Disclaimer

This book contains sexually explicit scenes and language that may offend.  The author is not responsible for any loss, harm, injury or death resulting from the use of the information contained in this title.

While reference has been made to some actual historical events or persons and some existing locations all other names, characters and places are fictional; the product of the author’s over imaginative mind.  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses or places is purely coincidental.

Acknowledgements

This book wouldn’t have been possible without the help and encouragement of my friends and my partner.  Thanks go to those who read the draft and offered their comments.  To Jen for her endless encouragement, help with the editing, insightful comments and as a second eye to the metaphysics in the book. To my partner for his never ending patience, encouragement, his photography and help with the book cover.  To my mum for not disowning me after reading the first book and instead wanting to know more about the characters.  To my dad for being pleased as punch that I’d gotten to be a published author.  To all those who read the first novel and didn’t tell me I was daft for putting some pretty outlandish metaphysical ideas into such a mixed genre sci-fi fantasy romance novel.  Finally thanks to Fiona and Liam for letting Kimba, their four month old grey tabby kitten, pose as Oscar for the photo.

Photo Credit

Greg Hollis

Prologue

100,000 years ago...

An almighty boom followed the shockwave, levelling the surrounding forest. The meteorite roared across the sky, slamming into the side of the mountain.  Splinters of rock from the mountainside were thrown into the air landing up to a kilometre away.  The object that had hit was little more than two metres, six and a half feet at its widest, made of extremely hard, dense material.  Amazingly it hadn’t broken apart upon entry into the planet’s atmosphere.  It now lay embedded deep in the side of the mountain, at the end of the huge hole it had made.

A group of Shang, distinguished by their almost conical heads, large almond shaped eyes and long dreadlocked hair, made the arduous journey to the mountainside to investigate. Silwa, having done many dark retreats to enhance his inner sight, fearlessly entered the abyss of the tunnel that the meteorite had made.  At the end of it he found a giant crystal that looked to be at least as big as himself. Having always had an affinity for beings of rock he tentatively approached it, seeking to get a sense of its vibrational qualities and hoping like hell there was no radiation or extraplanetary germs. He reached out to touch it and felt something shift in his mind.  Reeling back in surprise he took a moment to get his nerve back then decided to follow an unusual hunch and rested his forehead against it. He found himself in conversation with the rock.

Resurfacing from the cave later his anxious friends were curious to know what he’d found. What is it Silwa?

An immortal, like us, but from a higher dimensional plane.  I bear bad news.  A great evil is coming.  They come to enslave and plunder. We need to plan, for our sakes and the sake of the other sentient species on this planet.

Another of the assembled Shang grumbled, there is another ice age on its way, this one is likely to affect the planet for quite some time, possibly as much as 90,000 years.  Now this!  What are we all to do? We abhor violence, we came to this planet long ago so we could practise our beliefs in peace.

We won’t engage the enemy in battle. We’ll hide in plain sight, renouncing all things that might attract them: wealth, power and comfort. What few treasures we now have we will hide in the rocks of the mountains and protect with our spells.  We will live in our hidden mountain valleys and underground cities.  We can use our magic to conceal our presence.  They are strategies I’m sure that many of the other species will use but I suspect some like the Elder Folk will retreat to their parallel worlds.  The Dolphins and Whales will be safe in the seas, for a time.  It is the two legged ape people I fear for.  They are a people of passion, as much inclined to violence as compassion.  They have great potential for good or evil, only time will tell along which path they evolve.  I suspect the enemy will enslave them.  We will intervene where we can.

And what of the immortal?

There is nothing we can do to help him, the enemy has encased him in the crystal that fell to earth.  I know of no way to free him but we can use our magic to hide him.

The others sorrowed that they couldn’t help the being but agreed to use their sacred magic. Joining minds they envisioned a great wall and sealed the mountainside to all comers.

Three years ago, Kabul, Afghanistan...

Field Major John Samuels placed the phone thoughtfully back in its cradle. It had been a simple enough request, a meeting with the Brigadier General in Kandahar, yet his sense of foreboding passed ten on his personal psychic richter scale. 

At only a few hours old he’d been left on the steps of the town church.  Raised in an outback mission orphanage he’d quickly grown wiser than his years, atheist and cynical.  By thirteen he’d run away, hitching a ride on a road train.  By sixteen he’d enlisted as a grunt in the army.  With his quick mind, ability to lead others and an uncanny sixth sense he’d soon risen through the ranks. It was a life.  It was all he knew.  He survived the Iraq war as a warrant officer.  By the time he shipped out to Afghanistan he had nearly thirty years of service under his belt.  Now he had his own team and all he had to do was carry out orders and keep them all from dying. 

He yelled out to his Warrant Officer.  "Soldier, get me some transport.  I need to get up to the Air Force Control and Reporting Centre at Kandahar International Airport for a meeting with The Brigadier."  It was always a bit strange ordering around his friend but army protocol was army protocol, at least when they were in sight of others.  Officially there were no friendships between those of different ranks.

Andrew raised an eyebrow, the road to Kandahar was a highway, of sorts, but it wasn’t exactly one of the safest in the world, especially for any peacekeeping troops that ventured there. You didn’t go on your own.  Yes Sir!  He left to organise it but he’d seen John’s reaction to the call.  He was the only person he knew who was privy to the full extent of the Major’s sixth sense.

John grabbed a few things, basic provisions and his army issue F88 Austeyr 45mm cartridge rifle.  It was a modified version of the Austrian Steyr AUG STG-77 assault rifle, alright as long as you didn’t try to use NATO rounds in it.  He was surprised to see Andrew sitting in the driver’s seat when he got to the vehicle.

Soldier! What the hell are you doing?

Coming with you sir, someone’s got to mind your back.

John walked up to the driver’s window and whispered.  Andrew, my senses are ringing alarm bells at me,  you can’t come, I can’t be responsible for anything happening to you.

Andrew whispered back, With all due respect Sir, how do you think I’d feel if anything happened to you, did you think about that, eh?

John swore quietly Bloody hell! then walked around and got in the passenger side.

They never made it to Kandahar.  About an hour outside the town of Ghazni the road was blocked by a truck that, given the lack of any other traffic, must have only just overturned before they got there. It was eerily quiet.

Cover me! I’ll go and see if there are any injuries.

Andrew wished they could have stayed put until others arrived but even that wasn’t safe out here.  "He opened the driver’s door and used it as bare bones cover while the Major walked over to see if there were any wounded.

The Major was some yards from the vehicle when the shoulder fired grenade landed near them, the blast throwing Andrew into the air and knocking John off his feet. The last thing he could remember seeing before he blacked out was his friend’s body lying twisted and bleeding out on the middle of the road.

A month ago...

‘Mr S. Sauron’ the plain gold name plate on his desk declared to the world. But the character behind the desk was simply Sakla, to those in the know. To those who hated him he was ‘the great evil’ but he didn’t mind, he just harvested their hate or organised their demise. He butted out his cuban cigar on a leaf of the ficus plant that some fool had dared to place in the corner of the room, probably hoping to create a friendly and welcoming environment out of his austere office. The fact that the burn might actually cause pain to the plant did please him though. Days like these one needed small pleasures. The morning markets had opened around the world, down again. Even his beloved mining companies were taking a hammering. A couple of big holes he'd been looking forward to gouging into the ground in Australia and South America might have to be postponed. Governments even had the gall to start demanding a fair share of the mining royalties – really!  He'd have to engineer some disasters to keep their minds off that.  A plague of austerity was sweeping the world, despite his best protestations to world governments. It was starting to cause a drop in demand for resources, not just goods and services. Even his homeland, which he had been busily grooming for the last few thousand years as the base of his worldwide operation, was beginning to swim in its own cesspit of pollution, the people in the countryside near in revolt. The world's poor and lowest paid workers were getting restless, taking to the streets in unheard of numbers. Where would it all end? At least he could still rely on his investments in the health and biochemical industries. What with all the highly effective work his scientists had been doing of late in global pest distribution to increase the demand for his products and their newly revamped viruses that were infecting humans with cancers at a faster rate than ever. He loved their new development, 'type three diabetes' a few pundits were starting to call it. They'd be a long-time finding the cause on that one. Marvellous what a lifelong hi-carb and sugar addiction, which his advertising had helped bring about, modern stress, pollutants and a well hidden virus or two could do to cause accelerated aging in as yet untold numbers of workers who were past their usefulness. While they waited for their turn to die they filled his highly efficient, global network of no frills old age homes leaving both their families and their governments to pay for their care while he reaped the profits.

Yet too many humans were edging dangerously close to waking up from the illusion he had tried so hard to nurture and keep them in for so long. If he didn’t find some way to stop them soon or wipe out a great proportion of them like he had the last time there was no knowing what it would lead to. The great flood had certainly fixed them for a bit but it had left him without a workforce for thousands of years. Those lean times didn't bear remembering. There had to be a way to keep the planet's natives from getting restless until he finished plundering this world of all its natural resources and moved his operation to another planet. Television had worked for the last sixty years or so as a way to keep the masses distracted but even his most recent innovation reality TV was beginning to bore them, viewer numbers were at an all-time low. Expected sales of 3D TVs just hadn't happened, people complaining that it was bad for the very young and affected those with epilepsy and migraines. Whingers! Casinos still fleeced a few. What other business could so easily get away with exchanging one dollar for an average return of seventy cents or much less. National lotteries gave false hope to millions but an increasing number of yoga practitioners, new age hippies and others of the world's spiritual riff-raff were opting out of that as well. He'd had some joy from his drug cartels and arms dealerships, both sides deeply entwined, like brothers in arms, he giggled insanely to himself. Schools had become sales points for both his high-end technology products as well as sweets and lollies that got the kids hooked on sugar and caffeine in preparation for hooking them on drugs. Even there parents were starting to scream, threatening to take their kids out and teach them at home. His rearguard action had been to get governments to mandate standard curriculums that were too complex for parents to understand, let alone to teach. If that didn't work he sent the boys around to drag their usually unvaccinated kids off to the doctors at gunpoint and fined the parents until they lacked the resources to fight his initiatives. But still the restlessness increased!

His musing was brought to a sudden halt by the ruckus coming from his front office.

You tell him, you're his advisor, aren't you? I'm not going in there to fall on my sword.

"Coward, if you die you'll just go to The Between and be sent back here to infest someone else’s aura. You look like you need to get yourself a new human vessel to enslave anyway, that body you've got now is way past