CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN

Mike’s communicator came to life. His aura still surrounded him keeping the elements at bay. The vast storm and the bolts of lightning and the crashing thunder continued to approach.

“Joe,” he shouted.

But it was Bex’s booming laugh that came though. His laugh sounded like the cackle of the villain on a cartoon movie soundtrack. Mike wondered if Bex had learned it from Karsh or vice versa. Or maybe there was a universal Snidely Whiplash app that everyone but Mike was aware of. He thought Joe would smile at that. Maybe he would if he ever talked to him again.

Bex said, “We know where you are, you pissant, asshole, son of a bitch.”

Mike thought I hope so, you shit. Just a few more minutes. How do I get you to wait that long to take the first shot?

Mike said, “I’ve never understood your anger.”

Bex didn’t respond to that comment. Instead he said, “Did you know, I was the one who ordered the killings on Tarwall III. It was my first time as High Admiral of the Home Fleet. I wished I could have killed them all. Some of my subordinates rebelled. They died too.”

The storm closed in. A mixture of rain, snow, sleet, and ice beat onto his aura. Now you son of bitch. Now.

Mike kept the communicator line open. He wanted to make sure Bex could find him, zero in on him. In one hand he held the communicator up to the heavens as Joe had. In the other he held up the liquid zukoh in its primitive weapon. No time to wonder now if it would be enough.

Bex snarled, “You and all your kind will be dead. If I have to I’ll finish you and go back to Earth and kill all of you there as well.”

The storm roared forth, great dark clouds roiling up to the sky. He saw lighting strike a few hundred feet below him. A ridge of mountain cascaded thousands of feet to the ground. Dust boiled up for a moment until the rain seized it and forced it to the ground.

Mike turned his face to the storm. He continued to hold up his hands. He concentrated as he’d trained and taught himself. He felt himself begin to tremble. He heard the crashing storm. He felt the hair on his body stand.

Mike screamed and roared, “I’m right here you son of a bitch. Kill me if you can.” To him his voice sounded as loud as the thunder around him.

Bex obliged.

Mike’s blue aura burst forth.

Mike sighed. He knew that this meant that he was under attack. The implant in his head had never failed to sense danger. And never failed to protect him.

The aura grew larger than the storm.

Mike concentrated on the electricity he was calling down and the destruction he was sending up to the heavens.

The air crackled. He stretched out on tiptoes and held out his hands. A vast bolt of lightning twisted and flew from the storm. It joined with his aura, his communicator, and the little open vial of liquid zukoh in his other hand.

The blue aura deepened and sent a blast of energy far into the heavens.

There was a titanic crash.