The Chamber of Genesis Read online

  Chronicles of the Enlai

  The Chamber of Genesis

  N. E. M i c h a e l

  Asteron Press

  Chronicles of the Enlai

  Prequel: Origins, Adam

  Book One: The Nexus Mirror

  Book Two: The Legend of Solis

  Book Three: The Chamber of Genesis

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2020 Noah Michael

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design by Wgoulart

  Author photo by Ciona Sha-ked

  Paperback ISBN-13: 9781733642644

  Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1-7336426-5-1

  Published by Asteron Press

  950 Lee St.

  Des Plaines, IL 60016

  www.nemichael.com

  Dedication

  To my wife, Tehila, who will forever be my home.

  Lineage of the Rai

  Mordorok: Member of the Rai High Council.

  Harmonius: Chosen by the High Council to serve as Creator of this galaxy.

  Banai: Assigned by High Council to serve the house of Harmonius.

  Azarai: Son of Harmonius, chosen over Banai as Harmonius’s heir.

  Kasia: Daughter of Banai, arranged to marry Azarai.

  Roko: Son of Banai, chosen to serve the house of Harmonius.

  Calisa: First daughter of Kasia and Azarai, assigned as the Keeper’s apprentice in the Time Palace.

  Alia: Second, illegitimate daughter of Kasia, bound to serve Azarai and inherit his throne.

  Table of Contents

  The Lone Human

  Kiara

  A New Man

  The Night of Angels

  Undead Rising

  A Prisoner’s Choice

  A Deal with the Devil

  The Palace of the Rai

  The Deserted Village

  A Dance Goodnight

  The King of Angels

  Creator’s Workshop

  Prehistoric Rampage

  The Betrayal

  The Shrine of Gavriel

  The King’s Plot

  Reunion

  The Uprising

  The Chosen Two

  Armageddon

  Homebound

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  The Lone Human

  9 days before planet’s destruction

  Bamba pulled all the coins on the table towards himself. The other men watched in despair.

  “Awh, but boss, give us a chance to win back a bit?”

  “The game has ended,” Bamba grumbled impassively, “I’m collecting.” He piled the coins into his bag and then leaned back in his chair. The pub was bustling with gamblers and rustlers. They rolled their stone dice across the metal tables and hollered, their sort of prayer for good luck. The occasional brawl ensued, a couple of punches thrown before it was settled. The barista shuffled between various booze-bottled shelves as she worked quickly to keep up with the men’s interminable thirst. She knew the drill for the regulars, which men needed the light stuff, which men needed the hard stuff, and which men needed the flirty smile and wink. The lights were dim as usual, the music obnoxious, yet played on low volume. Everyone in the room wore the same pair of metallic earrings—they were called perception distorters, or PDs. Everything was the way it was supposed to be.

  And then, the door opened.

  A man walked in, his face cloaked beneath a hood. An Akary, a grand, four-winged eagle, was perched upon the man’s shoulder. Streaks of metal lined its red-feathered wings, and a bionic eyepatch covered its right eye.

  Bamba and his men sat upright in their chairs, eyeing the newcomer with hostility. The man walked calmly to Bamba’s table and took a seat facing him. The entire pub fell silent, all eyes on the stranger. The barista put down her bottles, watching cautiously, and the music stopped.

  “You don’t belong here,” Bamba growled.

  “I know who you are. I’m here on business,” the hooded man answered.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Bamba Gaba, dealer of poly-trimethyl-nexatine, PTSR, defective PDs, and second-hand bionic organs, not to mention your cyborg slave trade. You’re a busy man, which is why I don’t want to take too much of your time. I’m looking for someone, she’s-”

  “Listen here, kid,” Bamba growled, banging his fist on the table. “I don’t know who the hell you are, but you have three seconds to get out of here before I have my men cut you up and sell your organs for cheap.”

  “Eight.” The man said simply, unperturbed.

  “Excuse me?” Bamba asked impatiently.

  “That’s how long it will take for me to get you to talk.”

  “One.”

  The man shoved the table upwards into Bamba’s face. The coins flew from the table, scattering across the floor, and Bamba’s men dove to the ground to gather them. The stranger spun around the table and punched Bamba in the back, knocking him to the floor.

  “Get up, you useless dogs!” Bamba hollered. “Whoever brings me that punk’s head takes it all!”

  “Two, three.”

  The Akary flew into the air, and a small, tubular dart gun emerged beneath each of its wings. The men drew their blasters and began to fire. The hooded man lifted a metal table and used it to shield himself from a barrage of lasers.

  “Four.”

  The bird released a spray of darts, targeting one at each of the men. The men fell as poison seeped from the projectiles into their bloodstreams, paralyzing them.

  “Five.”

  Before the bird could hit Bamba, an energy beam struck it from the side, sending it hurtling into the wall. The barista stood with one leg on a table as she balanced a heavy, tubular energy cannon upon it. The hooded man tossed the table like a frisbee, striking the weapon and knocking it from the barista’s hands to the floor.

  “Six.”

  Bamba roared and charged at the hooded man. The stranger ran with superhuman speed up the wall and pushed off with a flip, jamming his iron-knuckled fist into Bamba’s face on the way down.

  Bamba crashed to the floor. The hooded man stood over the dealer and lifted him by the collar.

  “Seven. Guess I was a bit off.”

  Bamba looked up. His PDs were broken, and he saw the pub for what it truly was. Where the floor had been was now just dirt, and there was no ceiling. The tables and chairs were rusty and unpainted. There was no bar, only an old fridge with pre-made drinks. The barista was no longer an enticing woman, but rather a fat, older man.

  “But…but I kissed you!” Bamba quivered in shock and disgust.

  The man shrugged. “Oh, come on, don’t give me that. You always knew.”

  Bamba looked back at the hooded figure.

  “Who…are…you?” Bamba rasped, blood dripping from his lips.

  The man lifted his hood.

  “My name is Raiden Williams. I’m twenty-two years old, from Chicago, Illinois. I make a mean peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Oh yeah, I also blew up an orphanage, killed two Shadows with atom bombs, slew a life-sucking beast and saved a princess from a tower, flew a dinosaur, and entered the Nexus Mirror and lived. Now you’re gonna tell me what I want to know, or I’ll have something else to add to that list.”

 
; Chapter Two

  Kiara

  9 days before planet’s destruction

  Raiden knocked on the wooden cabin door. A woman’s voice called out from within.

  “Coming!”

  The door opened, and Raiden hurried inside, throwing off his hood. A girl stood before him, her silk, red dress twirling loosely above her knees. She smiled widely with excitement as she followed Raiden through the messy wooden cabin.

  “Where’s Skarai?”

  “He got hit by some energy beam, and he’s repairing. He’ll be fine.”

  “So? Anything?” she asked anxiously.

  “He never heard of her,” Raiden sighed hopelessly.

  “What a shame…” the girl said sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

  “You know, I’m starting to think you don’t even want me to find her.”

  The girl smirked. Her flaming red hair and bright, orange eyes gave off an energetic, spirited glow.

  Raiden reached a short, creaky staircase leading to both a second floor and a basement. Before he could head down, the girl jumped in front of him, blocking his way. She edged up close, pressing her body against his own.

  “You know…the folks are out tonight…”

  “Kiara, you know I-”

  Before he could finish, Kiara grabbed his head and pressed her lips against his own. As she kissed him, her lips grew hot. Raiden squealed in protest, feeling his lips begin to burn. Finally, he broke away.

  “Kiara, I can’t,” he pleaded as she moved in for seconds.

  “Why not?” she asked, pinning him against the staircase bars. Raiden spun around, slipping out behind her.

  “For god’s sake Kiara. For starters, you don’t even know what I look like. I don’t know what you see with those PDs,” he pointed out, referring to the glowing rings hanging from her ears.

  “Oh, believe me, you don’t want to…” Kiara smiled mischievously as she stared him down.

  “Kiara…what do I look like?” Raiden asked, suddenly curious.

  “Oh, those muscles…” she teased.

  “Well, you know, I do my daily workouts,” Raiden joked, squeezing his biceps. While he was distracted, Kiara pounced again.

  “Ah!”

  Raiden caught her this time by the shoulders, holding her back.

  “Kiara, you’ve got to calm down.”

  Kiara looked up at him, finally giving in.

  “You’re no fun. Is it me? Am I not pleasing?”

  “No Kiara, it’s not you. You know what it is. I’m leaving soon, and I can’t start a relationship here.”

  Kiara sighed. “That’s what you said a year ago when we first took you in. You said you were just passing by. Why can’t you just stay? What’s so great about where you come from anyway?”

  “Well,” Raiden said, starting to walk down the staircase, “For starters, people there live in reality. They don’t need these ridiculous PDs to keep them happy. Second, there are people there who need me. I’m here on a mission.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Kiara muttered, shaking her head. “Find the girl, complete the necklace, you both go home and live happily ever after.”

  Raiden opened the door to the basement and walked into his room. It was small and simple, containing a wooden, pillow-covered plank which he called a bed. The other family members slept directly on the wood, using their PDs to make them believe they were on a mattress. Kiara sat beside him on his bed, looking much more comfortable than he did.

  “Who is this girl, anyway? Do you guys have a thing?”

  “No, Kiara.”

  “Did you have a thing?”

  “No. I’ve never met her.”

  Kiara changed positions on the bed, laying down and resting her head against Raiden’s shoulder. She reached around his neck and pulled his amulet, twirling the sapphire between her fingers.

  “I don’t want you to go…” she said softly.

  Raiden looked down at the amulet, a constant reminder of what had brought him here. He had no idea what was happening back on Earth. He’d been gone an entire year. Did they defeat Roko? Was his sacrifice worth it?

  Raiden lay down on the bed and closed his eyes in exhaustion. Kiara lay beside him, resting her head against his chest.

  “Oh, yeah, Mama wants you to make a market run tomorrow,” Kiara said as they began to doze off. “Says we’re out of scralp.”

  “Alright. You wanna come with?” Raiden mumbled. “We could stop by Dorcas Fizaris for a dance and drink.”

  “You hate to drink.”

  “I know, but I love to watch you dance.”

  Kiara smiled, her eyes still closed.

  “Raiden, you can keep looking for this girl a while longer, but at some point, you need to let her go and start living your life. Can you do that for me?”

  Raiden hesitated.

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. Because I love you, Raiden, but I can’t wait forever.”

  Raiden’s eyes shot open. He did not move, as not to disturb Kiara. That was the first time she’d ever told him that she loved him. And for the first time, he realized that he loved her too.

  ◆◆◆

  Bamba sat at his table in the bar, glancing anxiously at the door every so often. He was alone, other than the barista, of course. She brought over two glasses of a bubbling, purple drink. He thanked her subtly, as things had become a bit awkward between them. She threw him a provocative wink, followed by a come-on twitch of the eyebrows, the way he liked it. He dug his face into the glass, attempting to hide his pleasure. As he put the glass back down onto the table, the door opened. A hooded man walked inside. He was tall and thin, his face hidden behind a thick, white, rubber mask. The man sat down across from Bamba. Bamba leaned forward in his chair, speaking quietly.

  “I like to get straight to business. What do the White Riders need these days?”

  The man answered coolly from behind the mask.

  “We’re looking for something. Some kind of amulet. Rumors tell of one seen around here.”

  “I think I might’ve seen somethin’. Why don’t you help refresh my memory a bit?”

  The man pulled a bag of coins out from his satchel and slid it across the table.

  Bamba lifted the bag to test its weight, then let out a satisfied grunt.

  “You know, I just remembered. There was a man, came in here, busted up my boys. He was wearing some kind of jewel around his neck. Never seen one like it.”

  “Where can I find him?” The man asked eagerly.

  “He was a farmer, by the looks of it. The village of Ankar would be your best bet. And he had red hair.”

  “A Burner?”

  “No, not the right shade. And he was strong, too. Could’ve been a Coder, or a cyborg maybe.”

  The man nodded silently.

  “Anything else I should know?”

  Bamba paused to think. He shook his head.

  “Nope, sorry. That’s all I’ve got.”

  The man stood up from his chair and turned to leave.

  Bamba sat back with the bag of coins, a content smirk crawling across his lips.

  “And do me a favor,” Bamba called out as the man headed for the door.

  The man paused to listen.

  “When you find him, kill him.”

  Chapter Three

  A New Man

  8 days before planet’s destruction

  "Good morning, Bardo,” Raiden told the large, greasy man across the counter of the market stand. Several buckets of slimy, round, black insects sat on display on the dirt floor in front of the stall. As he stood among them, Raiden struggled not to cringe.

  “Been a while, kid,” the vendor replied in a grumbly, raspy tone. “I started thinking you’d switched over to Seeman. He’s been stealing all my business, that grimy old thief.” Bardo glanced over at another scralp stand, directly opposite his own, a grimace stealing its way across his face. The owner of the second stand was young and enthusiastic, attracting custome
rs by the dozens. He scooped the insects swiftly and neatly into bags and sent his customers off with a merchant’s smile. The man caught Bardo’s glance and shot him a smug wink. Raiden cringed in disgust as Bardo coughed up a mouthful of saliva and, without noticing, spat it straight into one of the buckets of scralp sitting behind him.

  “I can’t imagine why,” Raiden murmured sarcastically under his breath.

  “What was that?” Bardo grunted.

  “I said, I can’t see why anyone would choose him over you,” Raiden said quickly, covering his tracks. “You’ve got the best prices, not to mention your attractive personality and dashingly good looks, especially your-” Raiden paused, his eyes running from the man’s oily, disheveled beard down to the dirty, hairy belly-button protruding from beneath his tight shirt. “Your smile,” Raiden gulped nervously, staring into the man’s insipid, droopy gaze. “You have a lovely smile.”

  “Yeah, sure kid, whatever,” Bardo grunted indifferently. “Anyway, you here for some scralp?”

  “You got it, big guy.”

  “Hold on a minute.”

  As Bardo reached for a bucket, Raiden looked around. Endless stalls were selling various spices, fish, meats, fruits, clothing, medicines, and technology. A cacophony of voices polluted the air as competitive vendors hollered insistently at each and every passerby. Raiden hated the market. It was filthy, smelly, and usually filled with people. That’s why he’d come early in the morning, before the droves. Kiara had still been asleep, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her, so he’d come alone. Raiden itched his ear and then adjusted his PD. He bought a broken one off the black market. He hated them, but these didn’t distort his vision, only his hearing and speech. It allowed him to understand every language as if it were English, and made his own words come out in the native tongue.