Page 20 of The Last Aquarius
A suggestion that had him gaping at Aries. “Me?”
“It can’t hurt.”
“Ishtar is a queen, and I’m just a tech.”
“And a warrior. Don’t sell yourself short.”
“You know flirting isn’t my strength, and Ishtar doesn’t seem like the type to succumb to flattery.”
“You’ll have to figure it out because the prediction specifically mentions you.”
The prophecy also seemed pretty clear he’d die in the process. Why else would the stars weep if he succeeded?
“I’ll do my best.”
“Good. Now get some sleep. You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” A dry reply, although Aries had a point. Fatigue tugged at him, a reminder of his eventful day. As Aquarius dragged his ass to his apartment, he couldn’t help but glance up the stairs and wonder how Ishtar fared. If he weren’t so tired, he might have gone and checked.
Instead, he slept. Slept and dreamed.
Dreamed he stood on Mars.
A glance at his feet showed hard-packed dirt with thin cracks running through it. Ahead of him stood a mountain that could only be Olympus Mons. Scientists believed it was the largest volcano in the solar system, but conspiracy buffs had another theory, claiming it was a Martian citadel.
Without moving his feet, he suddenly found himself standing in its shadow, noting the pitted stone, whipped by sand over millennia. He placed his hand on it, noting the rough texture, and jolting as a grinding noise led to a door opening in the mountain.
An ominous dark maw and, of course, his dumb ass stepped inside.
He couldn’t see much, the light from outside barely penetrating and then disappearing as the portal abruptly shut.
For a few seconds, he stood in the pitch-black, reminded of when he beamed and entered the void, the space through which the Zodiacs travelled when their entire atomic structure disassembled and flitted in seconds from point A to point B. Only this place didn’t have the lung-sucking cold or the ominous pressure of nothingness.
Blink.
The sudden illumination startled. A glance left to right showed dust-covered glowing sconces inset within the walls. He found himself in what he would have described as an antechamber. Benches lined the walls with niches above, empty but for dust. It reminded him of a mudroom. A door beckoned, and as he approached, it slid open.
A part of him wondered if he truly visited Mars in his dream, or had his subconscious created what it thought he wanted to see? No way of knowing, although, when he saw Ishtar in themorning, he might ask. It wasn’t unheard of for warriors to experience astral projections. It just had never happened to him.
Past the dusty antechamber, a wide hallway stretched with more recessed sconces, although a few of them appeared to no longer be functioning. It was astonishing any of them worked at all, given how long this place had remained dormant.
His boots kicked up puffs of dust as he strode aimlessly, because he had no clue where he went. From the outside, the citadel didn’t just appear huge; it was massive. He could wander forever and never find his way out. The fear of being trapped here didn’t stop him from exploring. He strode along the empty halls and peeked in and out of barren rooms. It would appear everything that could be carried off had been removed, leaving behind only hints of past grandeur. At one time, the citadel had windows, he came across them in some rooms, their presence indicated by square and rectangular cuts in the seamless stone, filled in likely to protect the inhabitants.
Aquarius wandered for an eternity, or so it seemed. His footsteps the only sound in this dead place. While he glanced into every room he passed, he found nothing of interest, so when he did finally encounter something, it jolted.
The area around the door didn’t have the layer of dust he’d encountered elsewhere, and unlike the others, simply stepping close didn’t open it. A square of green, cleaner than anything else thus far, had him placing his palm against it. Possibly dumb, for all he knew it might electrocute or?—
The door slid open, and he gaped, split between horror and astonishment. The hum of active machinery filled the chamber. A tall dark tower of metal with flashing lights from which extended wiring and tubing that led to a glass cylinder that went floor to ceiling, filled with liquid, holding a body.
Not just any body. A full-grown version of Ishtar.
“I see even my dreams aren’t safe anymore,” grumbled Ishtar from behind him.
He whirled. “Your dream? I thought this was my imagination.”
“Could you truly have imagined this?” she stated, waving her hand at the tank.
“You did mention you were born in a test tube, but you forget the part about growing it on Mars.”
