Eighteen
The trail was uneven and rough, making it a very slow journey from the base of the valley to the center of the ridge. When Jules thought they were walking up to a mountain, with no possible way to circumvent it, Lolin veered them left, pointing to a cliff face a short distance away.
Water ran down the side of the immense rocky peak, over the edge, forming a waterfall. They neared the pool it created, the water crisp and clear.
“Can we drink this too?” Canni asked, and when Lolin nodded, he raced Wentle to the edge, each of them drinking deeply. The trip had been arduous, the students unaccustomed to the strenuous workout.
Jules was thirsty too, but she was also a little lightheaded. Her thoughts were slightly jumbled since her outburst a few hours ago. Slate kept glancing at her, the worry evident on his face. She told him she was okay at least a half dozen times, but that didn’t stop him from showing constant concern.
She didn’t blame him. She’d lifted from the ground and had nearly had a seizure as the energy raged inside her. Dean hadn’t left her side since then, and she was grateful for his proximity. He was like a rock she could lean on, and she needed the support.
When the rest of them were at the mountain lake drinking their fill, Dean took Jules’ arm as if to steady her. She hadn’t even noticed she’d started tilting.
“What does it mean?” Dean asked her.
“I don’t…”
“The portal. Why is there a portal here? Wouldn’t we know that?” he asked.
“We would.” Jules had every portal symbol memorized from the Crystal Map. She’d reanimated so many of the dead and dormant ones when she’d fixed the entire system from the Theos homeworld.
“Then how?”
“I have no idea, Dean. We’re going to have to see it. Something about it is important, or why else would my Iskios powers surge like that at the mention of their god?” she asked.
Dean led her toward the water, pulling a canteen from his bag. He crouched a good twenty meters from the others, filling it and passing it to her before drinking any himself.
“Thanks.” She wiped the top when she was done, returning it. “It’s all a little strange, though.”
“What is?” Slate’s voice carried from behind her.
“All of this. We head to Menocury L05 only to have our ship shot down and communications disrupted,” Jules started.
Dean chimed in. “Not to mention the Horizon being called away to some distress call while my father is off with Jules’ dad.”
“Then I see a ship you think is the Collector’s, and he attacks Lolin’s people, taking her betrothed as a prize,” Jules stated.
“Not to mention the part where your abilities went crazy and you floated in the air,” Kira said softly. Her eyes were wide, watching Jules with uncertainty.
“I’m sorry for scaring you all,” Jules said. “I have to come clean. You know I’m… different. You’ve likely heard the rumors about me being part Iskios. Well, it’s true.”
Extel Four gasped, dropping her canteen. “How do you mean? I thought they were all dead.”
Jules began to sway, her head pounding. Dean gave her a steady arm to cling to. “My mother was pregnant with me when she was possessed by their entire race. They created the Vortex, and through her, did some awful things.”
“Then Dean Parker came and kicked some butt,” Slate said with a smirk, quickly wiping it from his face. “Go on.”
“Once the Iskios were vanquished into the portal stones, things began to fail in our network. My mother had me on a planet called Sterona, with Slate and Suma nearby.” Jules noticed Slate smirk at the mention of his part in her parents’ adventure.
“How does this make you Iskios?” Canni asked.
Lolin was watching the entire conversation from a few steps away, her open jaw indicating she wasn’t quite following along, even with the translation.
“Their energy. It affected me in the womb. I’ve always been able to… do things,” Jules said.
Most of them knew this, but not the extent. Dean had seen it firsthand on many occasions, including the time she’d stopped the bomb from destroying the Duup Peaks and the hotel after Garo Alnod’s funeral.
“What kind of things?” Kira asked.
Jules didn’t want to discuss the gritty details, and Slate must have sensed this. “Things that end up helping those around her,” he told them.
“Why can’t you use them now, then?” Kira asked.
Jules looked at her hands, feeling the well dry inside her. “I’ve been struggling with them lately. It’s like… they left me. Then one minute they’re there again, only full force.”
“What changed?” Wentle buzzed.
“I really don’t know.”
Slate cleared his throat. “You turned thirteen, Jules.”
“What does that have to…” Jules started, before realizing he was right.
“Maybe your human hormones are crossing wires with the Iskios,” Dean said.
She hid her blushing cheeks behind her hands, pretending to rub her eyes. “Maybe that’s it. All I know is they’re not reliable, and I can’t do anything to assist us.”
“That’s not true. You always support me, and all of us,” Kira said. “You saved me underwater, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, we don’t need those powers. We have Jules Parker. She’s a hero,” Wentle said, his large black eyes unwavering.
“That’s right.” Slate wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “We should keep moving. Lolin, where’s the entrance?”
Lolin blinked her eyes a few times, and finally understood what he was asking. She pointed under the waterfall. “Through there.”
“Great,” Slate said.
Jules’s hands shook slightly as she stared in the dark hole beyond the waterfalls. They were going to travel through the mountain?
“It’ll be okay,” Dean told her softly. “Since when are you scared of anything?”
He was right. Just because she didn’t have control of her powers didn’t change who she was. She wasn’t a scared little girl. She was going to be a full-fledged Gatekeeper.
With a new resolve, Jules nodded, grabbing a bag of their supplies.
“Time to go,” she said, leading them toward the edge of the lake.
____________
There was a sliver of light remaining as we entered Pisa. I’d been trying to appreciate the beautiful Tuscan landscape and architecture, remembering that we’d all but abandoned our old ways of life as we’d settled into our new immense colonies. Most of the metropolises held two to five million people.
Paul and I had discussed the economics of cities, and Paul claimed that technology wanted five or so million in one region, living close to their workplaces. This also allowed easy access to all the amenities, like schools, groceries, and health care. It made sense, and it was the same principle that New Spero was built on, but with Haven, we’d done something different. It was more like the old ways, with low-rise buildings, neighborhoods, and suburbs spread out over the countryside.
Haven was calmer, not so full of lights and noise. It was more like a town in middle America, or even a city like Pisa. As we entered the outskirts, I spotted the river again. Amada told us it was called the Arno, and we’d seen it snaking through a few other towns along the trip here.
“It’s a lot bigger than I expected,” I said as we coasted over a hill. We were all exhausted, my legs only moving by sheer will at this point. Magnus was worse off. He was older and outweighed me by fifty or so pounds. I felt bad for him, and for his bicycle.
“I’m never riding a bike again,” he said.
“You two complain too much,” Amada told us, but I heard the tiredness in her mocking voice.
“How far?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been here before,” she told us.
“What? How do you know you even have a safehouse here, then?” Magnus barked.
“Because Frasier to
ld me.”
“Are we supposed to ride around until we find them?” I asked.
“Something like that,” she said, stopping at a Welcome to Pisa sign.
She ran a hand across the worn wooden posts, and I spotted some notches carved into it with a knife. They pointed toward a hand-painted picture of the Leaning Tower. She tapped the tower image. “They’re here.”
Magnus chuckled. “How unassuming.”
“That should be easy to find,” I said, knowing there would be countless signs directing us to the infamous landmark. “Markus, have you been here before?”
He shook his head. “Always wanted to, but the… shipbuilding took too much of my time. I can see why people like this town. It’s beautiful.”
“See. This is what humanity is missing these days. Heart and soul,” Amada said. “They’re building skyscrapers, even bringing in strange black alien rock to make structures.”
I’d been the one to suggest that, after we’d made the deal with the harpoon-gun-bearing guards at the prison world, after we’d traded all the captured Kold for the material the prisoners mined.
“Here our ancestors used rock and stone from this very earth.” She stomped a foot, kicking up dust. “They built homes so their families could have somewhere safe to grow up, and created farms and vineyards to pass on as a legacy to their future generations. All of that is gone. No one owns anything. They’re slaves to this Alliance. They’re nothing but soulless puppets.”
I watched the passion with which she said this, and knew that while she was misinformed, part of what she said rang true. I was learning a lot more about our own people as I tried to infiltrate the organization I’d originally thought of as our enemy. Maybe, working with them, we could build something even better than what Paul and I had discussed. It was worth a shot.
It was Frasier I had to worry about. He wasn’t going to stop. Ever.
“Looks like the sun is setting, and you never know who might be watching. I’d hate to encounter another gang,” I told Amada, and she nodded, the anger visibly leaving her eyes.
“Race you there.” Magnus started to pedal away, and for a moment, I thought he was going to fall over. He straightened out, leaning over the handlebars. I wished I could take a picture and send it to Natalia. She’d absolutely love to see this image of her husband pedaling through Europe with me at his side. This was going to make one hell of a story.
I thought about my family as my weary body pushed me forward on the old bike. I wondered what Mary and Hugo were up to on Haven, and how things at the office were going for my wonderful wife.
I missed her and the kids. Jules was on Menocury L05, but I didn’t expect too much trouble there. Plus, Slate was at her side, there to protect her the entire time. He’d saved my bacon on countless occasions, and I knew he’d do the same for her.
Magnus turned quiet, and I suspected he was thinking about his own family. Patty was fourteen, going on twenty. Magnus was having a hard time with her, and Natalia was at her wits’ end. She’d gone from being a sweet, mischievous little girl to a backtalking, rule-breaking troublemaker. I hated to think it, but I was glad she and Jules had grown apart. Jules was so hard-working and adorable, but maybe I did have papa goggles on with her. To me, she could do no wrong.
Something had been off with her recently, and I hoped once that we were both returned to Haven, we’d be able to talk about it. If she was willing. Jules and I had always been close, but I felt her drifting apart from me more and more with each passing year. I knew this was the reality for all parents as their children grew up, but I wasn’t ready for her to be so independent yet. I wanted her to continue to look at me with those loving eyes, seeking the approval I always had for her.
Mary had told me it had to be a boy. A few weeks ago, she’d asked Jules about it, in an off-handed way, and the girl had clammed right up, her neck going rigid. According to Mary, our daughter was showing all the telltale signs of being in love. Puppy love, or first love, or maybe only an infatuation, I wasn’t sure, but I knew we needed to watch her. In my opinion, thirteen was far too young to have those feelings.
Mary had tried to ease my fears by telling me about her first crush. She was in some sort of junior-officer-in-training program sponsored by the same Air Force she’d end up working for. Fourteen years old, with a bad haircut and braces, and she’d met the man of her dreams. He was older by a couple of years and never knew she existed, but she’d drawn his name in hearts all over her notebooks in school.
They had a fundraising dance one month, and she claimed he’d made her dreams come true by dancing with her once. Of course, he’d called her Marnie and ended up leaving with the most popular girl in the program, hand in hand. According to Mary, it had taken a full week to recover from the pain.
I smiled as I recalled my wife telling me the story. If it was supposed to make me feel better, it did. It told me that kids were resilient when it came to matters of the heart, and so much more. My own first infatuation had been with my neighbor. We were the same age growing up, always in classes together, and eventually, when we were old enough to walk without adult supervision, I’d head over there, bundled up from the cold Ohio winters, and pick her up on the way to school.
I didn’t know it at the time, but I was in love with her, at least the kind of love a twelve-year-old could feel. The summer after seventh grade, she grew up, leaving me behind as the awkward little kid, voice still high and pitchy, acne starting to form where I’d been unblemished before. Soon enough, she was being picked up from school by boys with cars, and I was left riding my bike alone.
The wind picked up as we rode deeper into the city, and the cool breeze cut into me, shaking me from my daydreaming. I could only hope Jules’ experience was going to be smoother than Mary’s and mine, but somehow I suspected it would be similar. Puppy love rarely ended with wedding bells.
I tossed the thought out of my head. Jules had a long way to go before I needed to think about that.
I’d been so lost in my mind, I didn’t realize we were nearing our destination. The famous Leaning Tower was standing there, a magnificent white building behind it.
“What is that?” I asked Amada as we slowed.
“The cathedral. Duomo di Pisa. That’s where they’ll be,” she said.
“Not in the tower?” Magnus asked.
“I doubt it would be very comfortable in the bell tower,” she said sarcastically, and Magnus watched me as he shrugged his shoulders.
The sun was nearly set, the cathedral and tower casting long shadows across the overgrown lawn. We stopped on our bikes, and Amada lowered hers to the ground. “Let’s go on foot. Stay in the shadows,” she suggested, and I reasoned it was a good idea.
“You don’t think your people will have us in their sights right now, do you?” Magnus asked, and I glanced to the top of the tower.
She nodded. “Likely they will. But I wear our mark.” She tapped her chest, where a patch was sewn onto her shirt. It was a candle flame, and I remembered seeing it at Frasier’s compound in Spain. I thought about the woman who’d come to us at the villa, asking to meet at the Stuffed Truffle. I had no idea where that was located and wasn’t sure if we’d be able to manage sneaking off, but I owed it to our cause to try. The woman had been afraid, and she might have information to assist us.
Magnus took the heaviest pack, and once we’d gathered all our supplies, we moved as quickly and quietly as we could, with rubber legs and sweat-soaked clothing.
“I wonder if they have a hot bath in there,” Magnus whispered, and Amada shot him a hard stare. “I’ll take that as a no.”
It wasn’t long before we neared the entrance, and Amada motioned to us to stay put as she dropped her bag and made for the entrance. The structure was impressive, all white pillars and peaked roofs. A woman walked out, a semi-automatic in her hands, and Amada raised her arms, speaking softly.
She lowered her arms at the same moment that the woman lowered her weapo
n, and they embraced. Amada turned to us and waved us forward.
“Martina, meet my companions, Don Larson and Markus Nilsson,” Amada said. The woman glanced to our chests, where we didn’t have the Restorers logo sewn on our clothing. “Don’t worry. They saved me and completed Frasier’s mission.” Then to us. “We’ll find you new shirts inside.”
I nodded, doing my best to walk like a normal human despite my weary bones.
We entered the cathedral, and I dropped my bag. Torches and oil lanterns lit the grand foyer, and it was spectacular inside. Pillars ran along both sides, culminating at an ornate display of Renaissance and medieval imagery.
“Quite the place you chose,” Magnus told Martina.
“Why live in squalor when you can appreciate the finer things of our history? Come, we have a lot to discuss. I assume you’re hungry?” The woman spoke with an accent, but her words were well-pronounced.
As far as I could tell, there was no one else in the nearby vicinity, but as we walked through the halls, me stopping every few steps to admire something, I eventually smelled something cooking.
“We were about to dine. Care to join us?” Martina asked. She was young, maybe thirty, and had thick dark hair and an olive complexion. Her clothing had the Restorers logo on it as well.
“I could eat… a couple of times,” Magnus said, and we pressed through two massive double doors into a smaller room. This had likely been the private office of a high ranking official once. The room had a bronze lamp hanging from the ceiling, and heavy wooden bookshelves were built into the walls.
“This way,” she said, opening the door beyond the organized desk. Inside was a wide corridor, offices along the interior, with a cafeteria at the end. Here the smell of food was overwhelming, the tiny rations we’d had over the last day depleted by the full day of riding our bikes.
There were only two others inside the room, and they sat at a massive table meant for a group of twenty. At least twenty white candles flickered in bronze candelabras, making me feel like we were part of some ancient society.
“Would you care to freshen up first?” Martina asked, and I wearily nodded.
Old World (The Survivors Book Eleven) Page 15