Echoes Beyond Neptune - Prologue

  The storm struck like the wrath of a waking god. Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the CrossTech tower’s top floor, a jagged spiderweb of lightning flashing across the skyline beyond. Thunder rolled a beat later, deep and lingering, shaking the bones of downtown Austin, Texas. From this height, the city below flickered like a fractured circuit—alive, unaware. Julian Cross stood alone in the center of it all.

  The room around him was vast and deliberate—an open cathedral of glass and obsidian. Polished black stone covered the floor, reflecting the lightning in pools of liquid light. Not a speck of dust marred its surface. No furniture cluttered the space, save for a minimalist desk of chromed alloy and matte crystal. Suspended holographic displays drifted around it in silent orbits, casting faint glows across Julian’s sharp-cut silhouette.

  The windows were un-tinted, despite the fury outside. Lightning danced across them as if invited. Above, the ceiling rippled with the image of the storm mirrored from above—a full-spectrum holodisplay that mapped the sky in real time. Julian could change it at any moment, but for now, he chose the storm. He liked the chaos, especially when it was on the outside.

  His eyes were fixed on a cluster of data streams spiraling in the air before him. Deep-space sensor sweeps. Gravitational telemetry. Spectrographic logs. One anomaly, then two. A pattern emerging. Slow. Rhythmic. Intentional. Julian tapped a command. The images expanded—an object, massive and dark, drifting far beyond Neptune. Planet Nine. Nibiru as the Sumerians called it. The anomaly was centered on it. Unnatural. A pulse. Electromagnetic resonance buried in the static. Intelligent design couldn’t be ruled out.

  Julian stared for a long moment. Then, with the precision of a man who never wasted motion, he turned toward the desk and tapped a control embedded in the surface and said one word.

  "Adams."

  Not even a minute later, the office doors slid open with a whisper. John Adams stepped inside, his suit still damp from the storm, though not from any lack of preparation. He looked as if the weather had merely offered a mild inconvenience. Julian didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.

  "We’ve found something," Julian said. "Far edge of the system. A gravitational ghost with a signal embedded in its wake."

  John stepped beside him, eyes flicking to the floating displays. He said nothing.

  "It’s real. And it’s ours—if we move first." Another flash of lightning lit the skyline behind them. "I need a crew," Julian said. "Not a committee. Not a boardroom. Outliers. Problem solvers. Even troublemakers. The kind the world ignores until it needs them. You know who I’m talking about."

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  John gave the faintest nod. Julian finally turned to him.

  "Start with Victor. Then find his boy. You’ll need a full crew for this mission. If everything goes right you won’t be home anytime soon."

  John Adams moved with purpose. The echoes of Julian’s words still rang in his ears as he strode through the hangar’s dimly lit expanse. Rows of sleek, black vehicles lined the space, each a testament to CrossTech’s cutting-edge engineering. He signaled to two of his top security operatives, who began their stride towards him.

  Avery Torres stood 5'9", lean and composed—her no-nonsense presence honed by years in special operations. She checked her gear, boots whispering against the floor as she approached. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a tight bun, and her sharp, focused eyes missed nothing. Her skin was a warm olive tone, and she had a thin scar that traced from her left eyebrow down to her cheekbone—a souvenir from a mission gone sideways. She wore form-fitting tactical gear in dark gray, equipped with reinforced plating at the shoulders and chest. A sidearm was holstered at her hip, and a compact submachine gun hung from her tactical vest. Her expression was calm but inquisitive.

  Rachel Hayes followed close behind, three inches shorter, wiry and quick. She brushed her sandy blonde pixie cut hair out of her eyes while reviewing the route on a holo-display as they approached a matte-black aircar, one of many with a CrossTech symbol emblazoned on its hood. She wore similar tactical gear, though hers was optimized with extra pouches for tech devices, surveillance tools and comms equipment. A compact combat knife was strapped to her thigh and she carried a sleek, custom sidearm. Its angular lines and faintly glowing undercarriage gave it a predatory look.

  The gull-wing doors lifted silently as they neared, and the trio climbed in, the interior a seamless blend of leather and digital interfaces. John took the pilot’s seat, the heads-up display flickering to life before him.

  "Coordinates locked, sir. We’re heading out to the woods again? Or is this one of your... classified detours?" Rachel said in a playful voice as she winked, then went back to glancing at the holo-map projected in front of them. Avery gave her a silent glare.

  "We’re heading to the Midwest," John said calmly, ignoring Rachel’s jest as he let out a sigh. "Remote location. We’re looking for somebody by the name of Victor Caelum. Old guy. Scientist. We aren’t expecting trouble but be ready anyway."

  The aircar hummed to life, lifting smoothly from the hangar floor. Within moments, they were slicing through the storm-laden skies, the city lights of Austin fading into the distance behind them.

  Lightning flashed around them, but inside the cabin, everything was silent and controlled. John’s eyes were fixed ahead, his mind already on the task at hand. The journey would take them far from the urban sprawl, into the heart of the country where Victor Caelum had hidden himself away from the world. Avery and Rachel read their pads and the dossier that was provided. Victor was made out to be a mad scientist by all official accounts.

  As the aircar sped onward, the storm gradually gave way to open skies, and the vast, empty stretches of the Midwest unfolded beneath them. They flew over fields and forests, the darkness below broken only by the occasional flicker of distant farmhouse lights.

  Finally, the aircar began its descent toward a patch of dense woodland, where a single, isolated cabin awaited. The lights from the vehicle swept over the trees, casting long shadows as they came to a hover above the clearing.

  "We’re here," John said as the three stepped out into the silence, the only sounds their breathing and the now-cooling aircar.