Unknown Date

"Any idea how long we've been in these?" Pope asked, rattling his box.

Royale smiled. "You really don't know who I am do you?

Information started forming from Oran's memories. Pope again chose to stop them. He was tired of living though another person's mind. I just need to be myself for one day. Alone in my own head, or at least in this one.

"Assume that I don't." Pope replied. "What does that have to do with how long we've been here?"

"I'm known for my timekeeping," Royale said.

"What does that mean?"

"We were attacked on the moon twelve hours, thirty-six minutes, and eighteen seconds ago, Naomi time."

"Naomi time?"

"Given that we're in hyperspace, which really plays havoc with the time stream, I can only use my own personal time frame as a reference. My powers mostly involve time. One of them is a near infallible internal clock."

Time manipulation? That's quite the ability," Pope commented. "Any chance you can rewind time to take is back to before we were captured?"

She chuckled. "Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that."

"So, we wait?" Pope sighed. He glanced over at his fellow prisoner. She was looking at him curiously. Both his helmet and mask were gone, but he could see his skin was still blue. He knew his eyes looked like pits of white energy, but she had no problem meeting them.

He smiled at her. "As you seem surprised I don't recognize your name, perhaps you could tell me a little about yourself. Just to pass the time."

"I get the feeling your 'not from these parts', are you?" It was obvious she was quoting from something.

"Given that I have no idea where we are, I can't really answer that question."

"Fair enough." She looked away, staring into the distance. "I was born in 1952 ..."

"What!"

She laughed, an earthy sound with a slight snort. "I thought that might get your attention."

"1952?"

"Indeed. As a third generation Royale, I was born to a family of science adventurers and masked heroes. All of which meant I grew up weird. I got my first doctorate at sixteen. More followed. And when I finally convinced my parents I was old enough I went into the family business."

"Third generation?"

"Out of six, now that Gabriel has joined the biz. Now are you going to let me tell this?"

"Right. Sorry. Please continue." Being third generation super is something she has in common with Oran.

"I spent a few years tagging along with my uncles and older cousins as they faced mad scientists, mutants, and the occasional wannabe world conqueror. At first, I was mostly in a science and technical support role. Then, in 1978 we were trying to stop one of Overlord's early forays into our dimension, it all changed for me."

"The Trans-dimensional Tyrant had built a temporal destabilizer in an attempt to bring our dimension into phase with his. But something had gone wrong and it was opening all these little temporal portals throughout the time stream but localized geographically. Dinosaurs, neanderthals, Vikings, buccaneers, and old west desperados were appearing all over Chicago. It was chaos and it was spiraling towards a complete temporal fragmentation."

She stopped, eyes locked on a past Pope could not see. "The rest of the family was tied up dealing with the anachronisms. I was the one that found the displacement device. It was in critical condition, but I thought I would be able to shut it down safely. I was wrong. Instead I caused the destabilizer to fail, destroying both itself and me in a temporal cascade. That was the first time I died."

Pope thought of several things to say, from condolences to clever quips. He decided that this was one of those times when it was probably best to keep it to himself. His wife had taught him that sometimes silence was the right response.

"11.69 seconds later my body refreshed, exactly the same as when the temporal discontinuity occurred." She looked Pope in the eyes, her expression resigned. "And time keeps looping. Every almost-twelve seconds I am refreshed. I have been stuck in this unalterable physical state since I was twenty-six. If something happens to me, the time loop heals me, up to and including death. Don't get me wrong. I feel every wound I take. Every time I die. While necessarily quick, it's never pleasant. I just always get better."

"That's ..." Pope hesitated. "I have no idea what that must be like."

This time he did not keep Oran's memories from providing more details. Royale, sometimes called Tachyon or Eterna had been actively adventuring since the early 1970's. Her time powers included much more than her unique form of invulnerability. She could see both forward and backwards in time, as well as being able to open small time portals that allowed her to provide herself and allies with the tools and technologies necessary to solve most problems or defeat most enemies. Widely considered one of the most accomplished scientists and inventors in the world, she spent her spare time teaching at the world's top universities and was one of the founders of the High Guard.

Like him, she was an old mind trapped in a young body. But she was accustomed to it. She had lived all those years in that body. It was still her body. And still her world. So, it's not quite the same thing, he thought.

"It's not so bad. Took a bit of getting used to," she said, then smiled. "But hey! I think I look pretty good for fifty-eight." She looked down and realized she was covered up to her neck in the alien box. "Not that you can see in this thing."

She smiled as she looked at him. "That's my turn. Now what about you?"

He thought silently for a minute, trying to decide. Should I tell her? I feel like I'm going to go crazy if I can't tell someone. And if anyone can help me figure this whole thing out, it is likely her.

She smiled at him encouragingly.

"I was born in 1946 ..." He smirked at her. "On a different Earth. One where there are no supers or aliens. And it was 2018 when I ... disappeared? Died? Whatever happened to me. I woke up here about two months ago. In the body of a fifteen-year-old that had just been in a laboratory accident. One that seems to have caused his body's latent powers to manifest. To make matters more interesting this body's grandfather was a super, so third generation too. And someone, more likely more than one person or group, is trying to kill this body. My name is ... Dr. Samuel Pope, Colonel, US Army, Retired."

She looked at him. Her eyes searched his. He could feel something behind his eyes as the locked gazes. Finally, she shook her head and looked away.

"I can't tell. Your mind is somehow out of phase with your body. I can't get a good enough connection to tell if you mean what you say or just think you do."

"I pretty much decided even if this were a delusion there was no advantage to me treating it as such and lots of reasons to deal with is as if it is reality. Though that's a lot harder said than done. It's just so different here. Both the new world and this new life."

"Fifteen?" she grinned.

"Yeah."

"Parents? High School?" Her grin grew into a smirk.

"Don't forget raging hormones and teenage angst. I've got grandkids older than this!"

She started laughing.

"Let me see if I have this straight. Time travel, extradimensional mental transference, power emergence, and murder attempts."

"Not to mention alien abduction."

"Yes ... well I've heard worse. What do you want done? Do you want to go home? Do you want to bring the original consciousness back? Do you want help acclimating to your new environment? Training in your powers? What does right look like?"

"Damned if I know," Pope muttered. "Probably the best case is this is all a fever dream and I wake up age 45 and my wife is still alive. Not much chance of that. So, barring that ... I don't know. If I go home, chances are I'm dead of a stroke or something. Even if not, I'm 72 and they were hard years. Not sure that is any better than this. On the other hand, I am not sure I can stand being Little Oran Bry for much longer either. Can I test out of high school, maybe get emancipation? I'd say just leave that identity behind, but that wouldn't be fair to his family. Though continuing to pretend I'm their missing son, grandson, whatever, might actually be crueler to them."

"What happened to Oran?"

"I don't know. I have his memories, including his lab accident. But no sign of consciousness in all the time I've been here."

"What about ..."

Royale was interrupted by a section of the wall sliding into the floor. Behind it was a hulking magenta alien in battered armor who stomped into the room on robotic legs. Pope started, having never seen anything like the being. The closest he could think of was one of the large orcs in the Middle Earth movies – hairless, egg-shaped head with a slitted, bat-like nose; lipless mouth full of sharp, blackened, jagged teeth; ripped, ragged, pointed ears; and lifeless, red, electronic eyes. It was almost seven feet tall and looked like it was built out of the same metal as the ship's hull. After checking a display on the side of Dr. Royale's box it moved to Pope.

"O ai oe ..." Its voice was like a glacier grinding stone, deep and grating. "... oe o le atalii o le kariota kata ..."

"I do not understand you," Pope stated flatly. He did not want to show agitation or fear, not that he had any idea if the being would recognize either from him. "Why have you taken us from our home?"

Something on the box started mirroring his words in what he assumed was the being's language. At the sound the thing's thin upper lip curled back, baring its sharp teeth, as it let out an audible snarl. It barked something unintelligible, but this time a speaker near its throat translated in a monotone. "Who are you? Are you the spawn of Bri Kartan?"

Royale looked at his with a raised eyebrow.

"My father was Kartan Bry. I don't know if that is who you're looking for. He has been dead for years."

"You are Bri Ouran."

"Oran Bry? Yes."

The thing chattered its teeth and slapped its chest. Then its left hand, which had curved blades instead of fingers, flashed out and sliced Pope's cheek. It collected some blood on one blade, then turned and stomped out. The wall rose behind it.

"That does not bode well." Pope muttered.

"No. but it does give us some useful information," Royale replied.

"It seems to be after me specifically," Pope said. "Or more accurately, it seems to be after the offspring of this body's father."

"What do you know about him ... Kartar Bry?"

"Kartan," Pope corrected. "He was said to be an inventor from Palau. He started working for my grandfather's company PowerSource in 1993. He met my mother there and they married in 1994. Oran was born in 1995. Kartan was killed in an auto accident in 2002."

"You said he was an inventor. What did he invent?"

"I'm told he invented a lot of small improvements in various power generation, storage, and transmission for PowerSource. His big invention was an extra-dimensional power generation system he called a hypertap. He was killed before he finalized it. Oran was visiting his lab to examine the hypertap prototype when it exploded killing his guides and possibly him."

"I recall reading about PowerSource's attempts to develop the hypertap. I was intrigued because it was an original direction for human research, and was wondering if they were incorporating any alien tech in the system. There are several cultures 'out there' that use extra-dimensional energy sources." Royale chewed her lip for a moment.

"It sounds like Kartan might have been an alien in disguise," she said. "It is not unheard of for such beings to slowly introduce their technologies into our systems, either as a way to make a living or to move our development tin a given direction for some purpose."

She looked closer at Pope. "If so, that would make your host half-alien. Between that, your powered legacy, and your exposure to extra-dimensional energies, I'm not surprised at an emergence."

"Not to forget the whole mind coming from another dimension and time thing."

"And that." She nodded. After a moment she continued. "So you have no idea who our kidnapper might be or what he might want?"

"Nada."

"Then I guess we wait." A mischievous smile grew on her face. "Tell me what you've been doing since you got here. I can't imagine having to go through high school again ..."

~ ~ ~

The ship's constant background warble changed abruptly. Pope felt a wave of sensation flow though his body.

"What was that?" he asked.

"We've dropped out of hyperspace." Naomi replied. It seemed a tension lifted from her as she breathed out a sigh and leaned her head forward.

Pope adjusted his vison to see though the hull of the ship. But it was still blocked by the surrounding forcefield. He shook his head. "Still nothing."

"What nothing?" she asked, looking at him once more

"I can adjust the spectrum I am seeing. It usually allows be to see through most materials. I could not see outside the ship while we were I hyperspace. I was hoping that since we are back in normal space I would be able to maybe see where we are. No such luck."

"I'd imagine that if you are still seeing the EM wavelengths, that a powerful enough force field would block your sight. Maybe even a faraday cage or something built to block EM emissions." She seemed to lose herself in what Pope assumed was design considerations. Likely she would have something that could block his sight as soon as she got to a lab. He was not happy about giving away an advantage like that.

"What I wonder is if you can think of a way to let me see through such barriers."

"Hmmm? What's that?"

"Can you find a way for me to see through such a forcefield or EM barrier? Might help us in this situation."

"That's a very interesting question." She smiled lost in herself once more.

Before he could regain her attention, a strange light flashed from the ceiling and Pope was once again unconscious.

~ ~ ~

"WAKE UP!" The mechanical voice was loud in his ear. It was followed by a wash of stinking liquid. The combination shocked Pope back to awareness.

He looked around. He was in the same box, or one just like it. But instead of a small compartment he was in a grey-red sand pit surrounded by rows of seats in a circular amphitheater. The wall was made of concrete or sandstone composed of the same grey-red sand. The seats were filled with more than a hundred aliens of various races. The noise was like any crowd – raucous, with a chaotic energy. The wall up to the nearest seats was at least 25 feet high. A metal mesh stretched over the pit.

"Now that he's finally awake, we can get started!" The mechanical voice seemed to come from his neck area, a collar he assumed, though he could not see it, even with his spectrum vison. Human eyes just do not roll that far. He looked up and saw his captor standing on a platform in the seating area. "I, Skaith the Undefeated, leader of the Reivers, terror of the stars, have brought you some entertainment."

"We gather at the pit. The sacred well of blood and tears. I was born in the pit. Sand was my mother and steel my father. It was from the pit that the Reivers arose, and it is in the pit that we find who is worthy. A fight to prove yourself. To prove the might of the Reivers. An enemy to toy with and to bleed."

"Behold the spawn of the noble Chancellor of the Union of Ernei, that bastard Bri Kartan. This boy does not know it, but he will pay for his father's sins. Who among you wish to prove yourself? I call on any of you who think yourself worthy to join my elite to face off against this prisoner. Who among you will step into the pit?"

What the fuck! Pope thought. Fucking gladiator blood sport? Trial by combat? And what the hell is the Union of Ernei? No ... that shit doesn't matter now. Get your head in the game. No idea of their capabilities, but they have no idea of mine. Try to keep it that way if I'm going to be facing more than one round of attackers. Why not just fly away? Don't know where Naomi is. Don't know where I am. Doesn't matter. They've proven they can knock me out anytime they want. That means I live at their whim. I need to take any opportunity to escape. Come back for Naomi later if possible.

He looked up. The mesh covering the pit was metal of some unknown type. Energy coursing through it. Above the rows of seating there were automated guns in place. They were all pointing at him. At least two aircraft were flying combat air patrol. Above them was a space ship in geosynchronous orbit. That's what I call a multilayered defense. Still worth taking the chance if I get it.

While Pope was examining the area for escape possibilities, a line of challengers had formed near Skaith's platform. When the first one slid down a rope to the sand, the old soldier retuned his attention to the pit. The being was red-skinned humanoid with a slightly protuberant snout, pointed teeth, black rings mottling its skin, and a prominent ridge of stiff black hair on her head. She, for there were definite feminine attribute, was wearing a mix of tight leathers with metal plates and plastic reinforcement. She had knives in her hand the moment she hit the sand.

"Fight!" Skaith shouted.

Pope struggled to free himself from the box while the Reiver charged across the red sand. He fought to blast his way free, but the device continued to drain ever erg of energy he generated. She was within a dozen paces when the box snapped open. He forced his muscles, tight from prolonged constriction, to answer his will and threw himself from the chair. He barely tumbled over his attacker's slash.

Pope had first been exposed to Army combatives when he was a special forces aviator in Vietnam. He had continued his training throughout both his active and reserve career. While that had ended more than fifteen years before, he still remembered the moves. And Oran's body was ideally suited to the moves. He actually smiled when his opponent spun, her left blade reaching out to open his belly. He caught her forearm with both hands. His right arm swept up to wrap around her neck as his leg swept hers. As she fell he jerked his arm lock, snapping her neck.

The crowd, which had been cheering, went silent. Taking advantage of the moment of confusion, Pope launched himself into the air. He turned his disintegration beams onto an intersection in the mesh ceiling. It vaporized with a flash of electricity and he was through.

The automated guns fired. Pope blocked one of the beams with body of his adversary. But that did nothing about the other five beams that struck him down.