Elusive Beings--A Shade of Mind--Book 3

by D. N. Leo

  "And what exactly will it require of me?"

  Juliette looked puzzled. No response.

  Ciaran deduced that if Juliette was merely an electronic profile—due to her human life ending years ago—then the fact that Ciaran was a successor would be unknown to her, and she would not have an answer for this question. The solution to this problem would not be available to her because it was not a part of the data input she had received.

  Artificial intelligence and robotic behavior were child’s play to Ciaran.

  "I'm a human, and I'm alive, Juliette. Whatever the Daimon Gate is, do you honestly think I can pass through it and still be with you? Are you alive or are you not?"

  Juliette again looked perplexed.

  "Daimon Gate is a nine-level transmutation process, categorized in three stages, where biological and psychological profiles are purified. If an individual is proven to be worthy, he or she will pass the gate and become a perfect entity. If an individual is not worthy, he or she will not reform, and will thus be exterminated during the process."

  That was definitely a robotic pre-programmed answer, Ciaran mused. He stepped closer to Juliette.

  "Do you think I am worthy? What if I die during the process? Can I still be with you? Or do I have to die to be with you?"

  Juliette appeared to be even more confused.

  "I died on Earth."

  "Yes, you did. But your body was not placed in the coffin. How did you get to Alphi?"

  "I am not in Alphi. I am in Eudaiz. The Daimon Gate will lead you to Eudaiz."

  "But only if I pass the test. What if I fail? I’ll die. How can I be with you then?"

  Juliette's face started to turn red. Ciaran had befuddled the machine. He stepped closer and reached out for her. He could feel the energy, the vibration. There was the presence of solid substance. Like Tadgh said, this was not a hologram.

  "Do you want to be with me or not?" Ciaran asked.

  His hand touched Juliette's arm. It was solid, and it didn’t burn him. Juliette looked up at Ciaran. "Yes, I do. I want to be with you."

  "Where is the Daimon Gate?"

  "It depends on the astronomical time and location. All dimensions have to be open on Earth and connected."

  "How many dimensions?"

  "Nine"

  "That's manageable. Science has gotten it to eleven dimensions."

  Juliette smiled. "Times nine."

  "Oh, for pity's sake, Juliette. I can't manage that."

  "Yes, you can. Run the disk.”

  "If I find the gate, so what? You’re speaking about some kind of wormhole. This is science fiction to those like myself who are still alive and living on Earth."

  "It’s not as primitive as a wormhole, Ciaran . . .”

  Ciaran shook his head. "I have a proposal. Why don't you come to me? Like now. You’re here. Why don't you just stay here? We can be together this way, can't we?"

  Ciaran grabbed Juliette. Her body was solid. Not solid like flesh and bones, but much more than frequencies and signals.

  Juliette trembled as if she wanted to agree with Ciaran.

  "I can't stay."

  "Why not?" Ciaran held Juliette now. Her image glowed in his arms.

  "I don't know. I can't stay. You have to come to me. You have to be with me. There is no other way."

  Juliette's body started to vibrate. She reached her arms up and held onto Ciaran. But all he felt was a ring of bone-crushing force wrapped around him. He grunted out in pain and slumped to the ground.

  Juliette released him. She reached out again to help him up, but Ciaran gestured for her to keep her distance.

  "You're going to kill me now if you touch me."

  Juliette stopped.

  Ciaran stood up. "Juliette, I want to be with you. But I don't want to die. You don't really want to kill me, do you?"

  Silence.

  "The Daimon Gate will kill me in much the same way as you touching me now. No matter what the transmutational process is within the gate, I'll die. I’m sure that I’m not a worthy individual. I’m a human being with a corrupted soul. If you once loved me, you’d know that about me."

  Ciaran started to walk back to Mon Ciel. Juliette followed but kept at a distance.

  "If you want, you can stick around. I can see you at night. Just like this. We can talk, keeping a distance. What do you think?"

  This was obviously not something Juliette had in her program. It was not something she had considered.

  They approached the gate. Juliette stopped at a distance from it.

  "I'm going in now. Good night, Juliette."

  "No, this is not going to work."

  "Then give me a plausible solution." Ciaran had to raise his voice so Juliette could hear since she was quite far away.

  "You go through the Daimon Gate and be with me properly."

  Ciaran stood close to the fence so that he could easily dive inside Mon Ciel’s boundaries.

  "If I promise you that I'll go through the Daimon Gate, will you let me leave now?"

  Juliette smiled. "No."

  "I thought not. I guess you want to take me, dump me right in front of the Daimon Gate, and make me go through it, regardless of whether I could see it or not."

  Juliette grinned. "You know me too well, Ciaran. As I said, I'll have you, either dead or alive. If I let you leave now, I'll never have you again."

  "I wish we could find a better solution," Ciaran said softly so that Juliette had to move closer to hear. I remember every day we were together. Those were happy days."

  "Speak up."

  "I know what you have on the disk.”

  "I said speak up!" Juliette moved closer.

  Forty more feet, Ciaran thought. He needed Juliette to move forty feet closer. Ciaran left the gate and walked about ten feet toward her. He stood there, his hands jammed in his pockets.

  "What do you want me to do, Juliette?"

  "Speak up." She moved ten feet closer. "What are you saying?" she asked.

  Ciaran shrugged. He looked at Juliette. The look that had always softened her heart . . . and for how many years? She advanced another ten feet and stood still.

  Ciaran turned around and strolled toward Mon Ciel again.

  Juliette galloped forward another ten feet. Then she stopped again. Ciaran felt a wedge of wind hit his back with force. The wind lifted him up and threw him fifty feet from Mon Ciel's gate. Ciaran both heard and felt his bones rattle. He stood up.

  Juliette wore an evil smirk on her face. Her loving expression had been replaced with fury. Her eyes were on fire. There is no other solution, Ciaran thought. He stood up straight, and as he did, he pulled two guns from his back waistband.

  These were no ordinary weapons—they were two specialized laser guns that simulated the profile of sunlight, an idea inspired by Jo’s little experiment with her makeup mirror in the back garden.

  He shot at Juliette. Each beam sent her staggering back several feet toward Mon Ciel. Each beam punched a burning hole in her body. She squealed, hissed, screamed, and staggered back with every shot.

  Ciaran kept shooting, pushing her back. Ten feet more would do the trick, he thought.

  Juliette whirled around, trying to regain her balance. Her brain was frantically trying to register new information and process it for alternative solutions. She hissed and screamed then suddenly stood up straight. The burning holes in her body started to heal. The wind circle around her started to stir.

  She laughed.

  Ciaran continued to shoot. His two beams barely made a scratch on her body now. She had somehow established a defense mechanism against the sun’s rays.

  The wind circle grew sharp, cutting into the grass like the blades of a hedge trimmer. Ciaran kept attacking with the two guns, but they seemed to have no effect. He strode toward her to avoid her approaching him and veered away from Mon Ciel.

  Behind Mon Ciel's fence, Tadgh, Jo, and Madeline darted out with two guns each.

  "Yo!" Tadgh calle
d out.

  Juliette turned around, looking at Tadgh. She approached Tadgh, Jo, and Madeline, inadvertently moving closer to Mon Ciel.

  They shot. Six beams at a time created an impact. Juliette staggered. The holes in her body took a little longer to heal this time. But they did heal.

  Tadgh, Jo, and Madeline kept shooting.

  Juliette smiled. She swung her arms to create a deadly wedge of wind that she flung at them at head height. It almost decapitated them. They ducked, crawling on the ground.

  Juliette laughed and prepared for a second swipe.

  Behind her, a beam exploded from a device Ciaran held. It blew Juliette five feet further toward Mon Ciel. Her back was on fire. She whirled around several times to put it out. She screamed in rage.

  Ciaran added his two guns attack and charged toward Juliette.

  He knew that as soon as she put out the fire, they would be back to square one.

  When Ciaran got to Juliette, the fire had just gone out. But she had not yet had time to create another blast of wind.

  Ciaran dove at her, trying to tackle her backward.

  She grabbed him, and he felt his bones breaking in her grip. He kept pushing. Five feet wasn’t much. His body could hold until then. Two more seconds, he promised himself. He closed his eyes and kept pushing.

  Juliette snarled and tried to shove Ciaran away from her.

  One second.

  There. In position.

  Ciaran shouted out his command. "Fire!”

  Chapter 16

  Two towers of light from inside Mon Ciel's fence beamed out a fifty-foot cone of simulated sunlight. It was the equivalent of two thousand single beams of sunlight.

  It was too fast. It was too strong.

  Juliette screamed a blood-curdling scream and exploded into nothingness.

  Ciaran sat on his heels, staring at the space where Juliette had disintegrated. He wasn’t sure what he felt. He was probably too numb to feel anything.

  Ciaran staggered up. Madeline approached. She squeezed his arms. "Let’s go inside."

  Ciaran nodded. He rubbed his thumb along the dimple on her left cheek and kissed her before they headed back toward the house.

  * * *

  In the Great Reception room, Ciaran settled in a chair next to Madeline. The painkillers had taken effect. His bodily pain was lost in a fog now.

  Jo shared a couch with Migi in a corner of the room.

  Next to the side table and an elegant lamp, George LeBlanc, Ciaran and Tadgh's cousin from France, sat in a comfortable reading chair.

  George was in his early forties although he looked much younger than his age. Brown hair framed his intelligent face and brightened his sharp, gray eyes.

  The gray eyes were a shared feature in the LeBlanc family, Madeline thought. But while Ciaran's gray was deep, smoky, and intense, Tadgh's was witty, and George's was soft and kind.

  Tadgh walked into the room with a bottle in his hand. "Found it. This should suit everyone. It's very delicate."

  Coming from the LeBlanc’s cellar, Madeline was assured of its delicacy and was sure it would suit everyone's taste.

  Tadgh served everyone.

  "How's the pain?" Madeline asked Ciaran.

  He smiled. "Gone!" he exclaimed.

  "Doctor Thomas is staying here overnight in case we need him."

  Ciaran shook his head. "He needs a family to go home to. Where is he now?"

  "In the guest room. Reading, I think."

  Ciaran and Madeline took their glasses of wine from Tadgh.

  "He's never had a family?" Madeline asked.

  Ciaran shook his head. "He did. I don't know what happened to them, though. Doctor Thomas is a very private man. I don't think it's appropriate to ask about his personal affairs if he’s not willing to share."

  "A private man working for the LeBlancs?" Madeline exaggerated the statement by rolling her eyes. Ciaran laughed and kissed her cheek.

  "Thank you for your help, George, especially on such short notice," Ciaran addressed his cousin.

  "You put on a good show. I enjoyed it. I'm glad my expertise was of some use." George grinned.

  Madeline had just discovered another resemblance in the LeBlancs—their gorgeous grins.

  Ciaran said to Jo and Madeline, "Sorry I didn't have enough time to explain to you in the last few days. George is the top man in show business in Paris. Stringing a few light bulbs together wasn’t a problem for him, as you have seen."

  "I've got to give it to you, George. It was brilliant. Especially since we didn't have a chance for a test run and had no room for error." Tadgh raised his wine in salute.

  George shook his head. "I just pushed a button . . . I can't believe Juliette ended up like that. I still don't understand . . .”

  "No need for you to dig in further, George,” Ciaran cut in. “I appreciate your help. We should close this chapter and consider it done."

  George shrugged. "All right. Up to you. We're family. I don't mind helping. Don't be too harsh on the people around you. And realize that you don't have to be perfect. You don't have to take care of everything."

  "I beg your pardon." Ciaran lowered his voice.

  "Come on! This is a time to celebrate," Tadgh reminded him.

  "Yes, we worked hard for this victory," Jo agreed.

  Madeline looked at Ciaran. His eyes looked tired as if he were drunk. But he had hardly touched his wine.

  "Are you okay?" she asked him.

  "I think my head is going to roll right off my shoulders."

  "I'll take you to bed."

  Ciaran nodded. "Please excuse me, everyone. Apparently those hits were harder than I thought." Ciaran stood up and walked out of the room with Madeline scurrying after him.

  In the hallway, Ciaran staggered. He leaned against the wall. Madeline wrapped her arm around his waist for support, and they walked toward the bedroom.

  In front of the door to the bedroom, they found Doctor Thomas waiting.

  "Doctor, what can I do for you?"

  "Are you okay, Ciaran?"

  "Painkillers and wine have turned out to be a poor mix. Come on in."

  Ciaran pushed the bedroom door open and staggered inside. He slumped into the reading chair.

  "What would you like to talk about, Doctor Thomas? Is it about the man you saw in front of Mon Ciel a few days ago? The one who carried Madeline home from the creek?"

  Doctor Thomas smiled. "You don’t miss a thing, do you, Ciaran? Yes, I'm here about that man. I’ve seen him before. He’s been inside Mon Ciel, talking to your mother. That was before you were born. Your parents had just moved into this place. I don't know if this information is significant at all, but I thought I should tell you."

  "Thanks, Doctor Thomas. That's a very important piece of information.”

  Ciaran stood up and moved clumsily toward the bed and climbed in. "I'm sorry. I've never been this drunk before . . .” His words trailed off, and he flopped down onto the pillows.

  Madeline darted toward the bed. Feeling his forehead, she said, "Jesus Christ, Doctor, I don't think he's drunk. He's burning up."

  Doctor Thomas took Ciaran's pulse and then rushed out of the room to get his medical bag.

  Ciaran no longer responded to Madeline’s voice. Juliette had something to do with this. Madeline knew it. She knew Juliette couldn’t be killed so easily. Going to the intercom, she called to the Great Reception room.

  Tadgh, Jo, and George arrived at the same time as the doctor.

  While Doctor Thomas examined Ciaran, Madeline paced back and forth at the end of the bed. "It has to have something to do with Juliette. I knew it wouldn't be that easy to kill her."

  Doctor Thomas finished his examination.

  That was way too quick, Madeline thought.

  Everyone looked at the doctor, waiting for his diagnosis. "This has nothing to do with his injuries or what just happened,” he told them. “Ciaran is experiencing something similar to what happened to you when you
inhaled that potion, Madeline. Your body was comatose.”

  "But we didn't see him inhale anything. We drank the same wine, ate the same food tonight," Tadgh said.

  "Comatose. Doctor, you are saying that there is nothing you can do? That he has to wake up by himself? Are you sure this is the same condition I had?"

  Doctor Thomas nodded. "Unfortunately yes."

  Madeline remembered her experience vividly. She remembered how she drifted away and was desperate for Ciaran to do something to pull her back. She would not let that happen to him.

  Madeline leaped onto the bed and shook his shoulders.

  "Ciaran, stay with me. Answer me. Give me a sign. Please!"

  She remembered the cold and dark place, the chapel where Juliette pulled her in and then burned her. Madeline shook Ciaran's shoulders again and again. "Please don't go there. Please, Ciaran. Answer me."

  Madeline shook him so violently she was afraid she might break his neck. But there was no response from Ciaran.

  Jo approached Madeline. "No, Jo. I know what I'm doing."

  Madeline shook him again. This time, he responded. He muttered something unintelligible.

  "What are you saying, Ciaran?" Madeline asked.

  He said something again, very softly.

  "It's in French." Madeline looked at the others. She didn’t realize she was weeping. "It's French," she repeated.

  Tadgh and George moved toward the bed.

  Ciaran mumbled the French words again.

  "He said if they release his mother, he'll do anything."

  Ciaran's body tensed, then it went lax. He said nothing more. Madeline knew he had gone to the dark place where she had been. She had to do something better than watching and waiting. She had to talk to her grandfather.

  Madeline hopped off the bed. "I need to talk to my grandfather outside Mon Ciel. Would you go with me, Tadgh?"

  "You have to ask?"

  "I'll go, too," Jo said.

  "Please stay and look after Ciaran. I need you here."

  Jo nodded. "Okay."

  Madeline and Tadgh rushed out of the room.

  Chapter 17

  Madeline and Tadgh ran in the dark. They charged through Mon Ciel's gate.

  "Grandfather!" Madeline called out.