The Guardians of Lost Time (Order of the Black Sun Book 48), page 1
THE GUARDIANS OF LOST TIME
ORDER OF THE BLACK SUN
BOOK 48
PRESTON WLILIAM CHILD
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Epilogue
Copyright © 2023 by Preston William Child
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Publisher's Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author's imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
PROLOGUE
THE THOUSAND SPEARS
They were going to conquer the known world and even the unknown world too. No one had any doubts about that as they marched toward battle. Their spears were held at their sides, the tips of the blades high above as they continued to move forward in formation. Those spears were the tools of change, the instruments of their intent to change everything. So far, they were succeeding—and it didn’t seem like they were going to be stopped.
The gods themselves knew to stand aside and make way for their approach toward destiny.
Aegus was a young soldier in the infantry, but he made sure to carry his sarissa firmly by his side, keeping it straight so that the spear’s tip shone in the sunlight high above his head. He believed in what they were doing and was determined to help make Macedonia’s dream a reality. Every last soldier that was there, the lines of warriors to his right and left as well as the legions behind him, all wanted to keep conquering until there was nothing left to conquer.
His friend and fellow soldier, Fotios, marched beside him. The two of them hadn’t seen many battles, but they were eager to make names for themselves. There was no better army to be a part of if they wanted to be part of battles that they could win. Still, there was some lingering anxiety as they marched into every battle, terrified that it would be their last.
Fotios stammered beside him, the shaft of his spear shaking wildly in his grip. “I hope we make it through this one.”
“We made it through the last two,” Aegus said, trying to be reassuring. His friend wouldn’t be of any help if he went into battle filled with such dread. “So this one should be no different.”
Aegus didn’t really believe his own words. He had seen so many of their comrades fall around him in the first two battles that they fought in. Any one of those men could have so easily been him; if he had been standing a few feet in another direction, if he had faced a more dangerous opponent, or if he hadn’t been lucky enough to avoid the arrows that rained down on them. In the thick of those battles, any single little moment could be the last. He just hoped that his luck would continue to hold. He didn’t want to die, not until he had a chance to see the future that they were trying to create.
“We will make it through,” Aegus said, mustering all of his courage and confidence. He hoped that he could transfer his optimism to his comrade. They both needed to be at their best to watch each other’s backs and to survive to see another day. “I know we will. They say that the king will be joining us on the battlefield today. With him at our side, victory is assured.”
“The king will be here?”
“He no doubt already is.”
Almost as if the gods themselves were listening, everyone fell to attention as a rider strode past and reached the front of the army.
Alexander himself, their king, rode out in front of them, his helmet held at his side so everyone could see his face. He was a young man, younger than most people would probably expect him to be, but his soldiers knew that his youth was not a detriment at all to his abilities. In fact, it was comforting to think that he still might have so many years to keep leading them toward further victories, much longer than many generals could potentially have. He was not some child. There was wisdom and genius inside of that mind, a knowledge that was far greater than his age.
Alexander liked to be part of the battle, to be leading his armies from the front instead of from atop some nearby hill like many commanders did. Some of his inner circle thought that it was too dangerous for him to continue to do that as his campaign grew more and more vast. He had enemies all over the known world, so perhaps they were right, but Alexander wouldn’t hear of it. He continued to be adamant that he was going to continue to guide his men toward victory personally, where they could see his face and he could see theirs. It helped bind them together, to feel like they knew him as they held the spears that he used to such devastating effect.
Alexander always looked brilliant as his horse paced before the rows of his armies. The king glanced up at the tall spears reaching up toward the clouds and smiled at the sight of them before his gaze dropped to the men holding those spears. Those were the people that he really treasured. He knew that those pikes in their hands were useless without warriors to wield them.
“My friends…” Alexander spoke loudly but softly. He had a soothing, comforting tone, but they had heard how quickly his words could become so powerful and fill them all with renewed vigor. “We continue in our hope and our belief that we are changing this world. And we are! I swear it! We already have changed so much! This is our destiny! Something that the gods themselves have given us! And we just have to accept it. That is all. If we can do that, then we can accomplish anything! We can show the gods and the rest of the world that we know how to wield this power and we know how to make all lands better lands! Are you with me!?”
Of course they were. The whole army roared with approval. Not a single soldier didn’t believe in Alexander’s cause. They all would follow him until the ends of the earth—and they were confident that he would bring them there.
Alexander’s whole body seemed to shine with a miraculous glow, his fabled breastplate glistening with sunlight. There were some that said that it was his armor that was blessed by the gods, that was going to keep him safe and alive so that he could complete his work. His soldiers believed that. They had seen how the gods favored him and how he always found a way to survive the fight. He had to keep leading them. Without him, it would all fall apart. That armor would never fail him, not ever. It would ensure that Alexander of Macedon brought them all to the future he intended to build.
“You see?” Aegus asked, grinning. “We will make it through this. The future is ours!”
1
WORLD DOMINATION
Damon Meyer was nearing the age of thirty and hated every single second that brought him closer to that milestone. It was as if he could hear the final countdown ticking away toward the moment that he would be a failure, when he would lose any hope of being as great as he aspired to be. He had accomplished a lot in his twenty-eight years on the planet, but there was so much more that he wanted to do, so much more that he could do. He just needed to stay focused and never give up on the future that he had so carefully structured for himself.
Being one of the Visionaries was an honor but not always the easiest thing. Their group was undefined and unknown to most people in the world. They were a clandestine group of individuals that had a great deal of influence over the world’s events, people that actually had a chance to make real change when most people could never actually hope to make any real difference in their lives. Still, they were not the closest group of people and rarely ever saw each other in person.
What the Visionaries did share was a dream to make a future that they could control, that would make the world a better place for generations to come. They all wanted that, and despite their conflicting ideas on a lot of other things, that dream kept them anchored to something that they could believe in.
Damon Meyer reached his computer and logged in to the chat room that he and the other Visionaries always used to communicate. None of them would dare risk all being gathered at once, so being together online would have to do. Thanks to one of the other Visionaries’ technological prowess, they knew that their conversations were encrypted and hidden from any potentially prying eyes—except for the occasional blunder like what happened between David Purdue and Eve Wayneright.
They all had to just sit there back then after that billionaire artifact collector dared to threaten all of them after using Eve’s computer. Eve died minutes later, having committed suicide to keep from divulging the Visionaries’ secrets. She at least was loyal enough to kill herself before exposing them.
Since that unfortunate incident, their meetings had gone smoothly as they continued to orchestrate the world to bend toward how they wanted it to be. They were still in the middle of phase one of their plans of conquering the mindset of the world—destroying the relics and histories of the world to free people from the obsession with the past.
It was not the easiest thing to accomplish, he had to admit, but it was crucial to what they had planned. They wanted to save people from being stuck in the past and being held back by the histories that no longer should matter. The whole world, if they really wanted to make change, needed to focus on the future and the best way to reach tomorrow was to forget about what happened yesterday; at least, that was the philosophy.
Damon had been born into wealth but never knew what to really do with it. He didn’t want to waste it all on some of the things that others in his situation would do. He stayed away from the temptations that wealth could push someone to fall into; he didn’t touch any drugs, any expensive women, or any fancy cars. He had stayed focused his whole life on trying to do something great. He wanted to be something before he eventually died.
The Visionaries had found him and welcomed him into the formation of the group. They appreciated his donations and the things that his wealth helped to provide them, but he knew enough about them to know that he was not the only wealthy individual involved. He had sussed out that he was the youngest member of the Visionaries, though, and sometimes that shone through in their conversations. Some of them were too narrow-minded, and he did everything he could to help modernize their viewpoints, to expand their horizons.
Damon watched as the screen lit up and the other Visionaries logged in, though their faces were hidden behind their profiles, just as they always were. It was what kept them safe from people like David Purdue, that would have seen their faces otherwise. Ever since that encounter, they had been even more careful about keeping their identities hidden.
Many of the Visionaries did not even dare to speak anymore over the microphone. They preferred to type instead of talk to help even further protect themselves. Damon thought that was overboard and irritating but could understand why they might have preferred that route. They all wanted to keep themselves very safe. Damon thought that some of them were too cowardly, too afraid to make the big moves that he wanted to make.
Is everyone here?
“I am,” Damon said. “Present and accounted for.”
The others acknowledged their presence.
We must discuss our next actions. Burning down souvenir shops is not big enough. Our message is not as widespread as it should be. They are being treated as simple arsons, not as statements to the people of the world.
“I told you that would happen,” Damon said with a shrug, leaning back in his chair. “We can worry about scrubbing the world clean of that kind of junk later. It’s too small a scale for what we want to do right now. We need to do something large, something to make a real statement.”
And what would you suggest then?
“I am going to hold off on getting into the specifics because none of my ideas matter while there is such a high risk to our plans right now.”
What high risk are you talking about?
“Isn’t it obvious?” Damon asked with a little laugh. He made sure that they could all hear how ridiculous he thought the question was. “David Purdue. The Order of the Black Sun. Doesn’t any of that ring a bell? Let’s be honest, the whole reason that we were stooping so low as to set fire to antique shops was because we were too rattled by his threats. We didn’t want to do anything that would draw his attention…but those arsons did get his attention anyway, so it was all for nothing. We pointlessly held ourselves back. We should never be held back. We are supposed to be constantly moving toward the future, remember?”
There was a delay in a typed response. They must have been thinking about what they wanted to say. He wished that he could hear the silence that was no doubt on the other end of the call. They all knew that he was right. He had told them all that this exact scenario would happen, but they had all been too cautious—too scared, really—to do anything that was really worth their time. Finally, one of his fellow Visionaries sent a response.
It would be wiser to just stay clear of David Purdue and the Order of the Black Sun. They do not know what our plans are and they will not know if we just keep away from them. They have no way of finding us unless we do something that gives ourselves away. We avoid them and they will not trouble us.
Damon laughed again, even more loudly, to ensure that they heard. “You really think that that is the best move? You really think that’s wise? What about that is wise? It sounds more like a cowardly thing to do to me. And given what they have done so far, I get the feeling that they would still find us even if we were doing everything we could to avoid them. David Purdue has proven to be relentless.”
Which is exactly why we should not interact with him.
“We all heard him when he threatened us. He shouted at all of us, pointed right at the camera, and decided to tell us that he would be coming for us. You really think that a man like that isn’t going to do everything he can to at least follow through with that?”
No one typed anything, and he knew that he finally had the proverbial floor. They were all his audience now, all realizing that he was making the most sense. They wanted to hear what he had to say, and he was happy to tell them what was on his mind.
“Before we move forward with any of our other plans, our primary objective should be to get rid of the threat that David Purdue and that secret society of his pose to us. The Order of the Black Sun’s mission is in direct conflict with our own. They want to protect the past, and we want to shatter it so we can move on. We are diametrically opposed and nothing can change that. Nothing. And that’s why we need to deal with them now instead of later. We are naturally going to continue to be at odds. We should preemptively get rid of that threat now.”
How do you suggest we do that?
“I had something in mind,” Damon said, rubbing his hands together. “In our research, we’ve learned a great deal about the members of the Order of the Black Sun. There is plenty that we can use. While I enjoy destroying history as much as the rest of you, we can sometimes use it as a weapon. We can take their past and turn it on them, sow distrust and descent, and then cripple them. When they are broken, we have them brought to us and we deal with them personally. We ensure that they can never bother us again.”
No more words came on the screen for a few minutes again. They all must have been mulling over his proposal. He thought that the choice was obvious, but unfortunately, his colleagues did not always see the obvious scenario; they too often overcomplicated things. He was giving them vengeance on a silver platter and they were still apparently hesitant.
Finally, they responded.
We will move forward with your plan. Please tell us the specifics.
Damon grinned and barely held in his excitement. “Oh, there are a lot of specifics. The Order of the Black Sun loves the past so much…so I would like to see what happens when they are forced to face it.”
2
THE THREE THIEVES
The Third Triumvirate was gone. Things had been quiet at the Musei Capitolini since those thieves disappeared. At first, everyone at the museum was on edge that those masked individuals could show back up and start trying to steal things again, but so far, there had not been any sign. They might have retired or been killed, or maybe they just realized that there was no point in stealing artifacts from thousands of years ago.
There had been rumblings that they were doing it for some kind of movement, some strange attempt to bring back the Roman Empire, but no one knew for certain, especially not Elio, who had only started as a guard for the museum in the past month or so. The night shift was serene and quiet and he really felt like he had nothing to worry about—at least, that was how he felt until that night.
