Addison struggled to understand the meaning of her words. Rebecca? My…mother? What does Mom have to do with any of this?
Cameron followed her with his eyes. "Don't play games with me, Kairos, or whatever the hell you call yourself. She's dead."
She stepped around the desk behind Cameron, gesturing with her gun hand. "How did it work out for you, killing your best friend's wife, the woman you secretly wanted to fuck?"
Cameron murdered my mom?
"You have the pens. You're going to kill me, so just do it."
Maya whirled around, her fist a loud thud against Cameron's face, followed by a grunt as his head jerked to one side.
Addison, in disbelief, stayed silent, processing each revelation.
Her voice went cold and flat. "Pick up Viator."
Maya pounded the heel of her gun into Cameron's collarbone, a sharp crack renting the air. He cried out in pain, breathing in short gasps, spitting bloody foam from his mouth. "You won't succeed. The League will stop you."
"The League? All that's left of the League is Tommy's little boy. And between you and me, I don't think he's up to the challenge."
She stood behind him again, shoving him to the desk, her gun pushing his head down. "Time to pick up the pen, Cameron."
Addison had hoped she'd turn her back, let her guard down for a moment. Unwilling to let this macabre play continue, he eased his way toward the open doorway. Cameron reached for his pen.
"Where are you sending me?"
"Have you ever seen a woman burned alive, choking on black smoke, her flesh melting away in the fire, falling unconscious only to wake up, screaming in agony? I imagine you haven't. But they did know how to barbecue a witch back in the day."
"You're insane."
"I like to think of myself as gifted and talented. You're going to ink Mary Philips. You'll be burned alive in seventeen-oh-five!" She cackled a demented laugh.
"Tobias gave you his trust. How could you betray him?”
"Oh, have you spoken to Toby? Heard all his lies, his self-righteous meanderings about the sanctity of time, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera?" Maya leaned in close to Cameron's face. "Tobias Faryndon was a fool. He said he would share his good fortune with me, but what he wanted was my obedience. We had the key to the world and he wanted to toss it all away." She hissed into his ear. "I will not be loyal to a fool. Now, write the goddamn name!"
Cameron exhaled, then wrote the date and the name as instructed.
Addison could wait no longer. He stepped into the room, aiming his gun at her. "Maya, stop. You don't need to do this."
Her eyes darted toward him. She picked up the messenger bag from the desktop, keeping her gun at the back of Cameron's head.
Cameron glanced over, laboring with each breath. "This is not your business, Addison."
"What are you talking about? She just killed Jules and you…you murdered my mom?"
Maya chuckled. "I see you haven't inked away, Cameron. So, the pen was a ruse. You clever little man." She slammed the butt of her gun down on his fractured collarbone. Cameron moaned, his wail something akin to that of a wounded animal. Maya glanced to Addison with a child-like frown. "Yeah, sorry about Jules. Collateral damage, I'm afraid."
"Collateral damage? I loved her." Against his will, tears welled in his eyes and his gun hand trembled.
"There'll be others, dear. So like Cameron said, Addison, this is none of your business."
He took in a deep breath, struggling to compose himself. "You murdered her and now you're trying to destroy the League. Of course, it's my business."
"God, you're just like your father. I gave him a chance to right this wrong, to have more power than anyone thought possible. He could have joined me. Together we could have stopped this asshole in his tracks," she prodded Cameron with her gun, "controlled reality, shaped the future to my vision. But he let his idealism get in the way."
"You killed my father?"
She glared at him, not answering the question.
"Why?"
"Oh, you'll find out soon enough, since you're so committed to following in your daddy's footsteps. Cameron lied about a sixth pen to lure me away from you. So, fulfill his dying wish. Why don't you turn around and leave."
"I'm not going to let you kill Cameron."
She jammed her gun into the base of Cameron's skull. "You think this dickhead gives a crap about you?"
Cameron spoke through a pained grimace, in the calm measured tones of a condemned man. "Let him go. You've got the pens. Addison, go."
"Shut up, Grimes." She pushed the muzzle of her gun into his head. "Clever man thought he was running the show. Didn't you, sunshine? I know Thomas thought pretending you were outside of the League served as a failsafe, but you'd be surprised how trusting a man can be if he thinks he's in love. He was a fool and you're a pathetic old dunce. I've played you for a pawn the whole time."
Addison kept his gun pointed at Maya. "Like me?"
"Yes, Addison. Like you. Now be a good boy and go back home. I've got your pen, so the only reason I have to kill you is if you get in my way."
"I don't understand. Why not kill me like everyone else? Why not murder me like you've murdered all of the people in this building?"
She smiled at Addison and for a moment a tenderness passed through her eyes. "Because when Cameron killed me, I lost everything, including my son. You're someone's son, aren't you?"
Mom?
Her eyes, still focused on Addison, went cold. "Leave while you can."
Her gun exploded, blood and brains bursting from the front of Cameron's head, his limp body flopping on the desktop before dropping to the floor in a heap. Addison's consciousness fell into a deep, twisting whirlwind. His mind screamed to fire his weapon, but his trigger-finger remained frozen, his hand shaking. This can't be happening. He remembered Maya's ease with his dad. Is my mom inked into her?
She wiped blood splatter off her hand with the back of Cameron's shirt. "Damn it! I wanted him to suffer."
He wanted to kill her. Destroy her. But if my mom is inked… Addison lowered his gun to his side. "Are you my mother?"
Maya remained silent.
"Mom, if you're in there, we can still stop this. Together. I can help."
She smiled like a small child had said something cute, her voice cold and bored. "I'm over the whole motherhood thing."
He raised his gun. "Listen to yourself, Kairos. All the people you've killed, the wars you've created. The pain you've caused. My mom isn't here. She'd never kill anyone. And she'd definitely never let you kill Dad."
She walked toward him, gun at her side. "Well then. This should be easy for you. Come on, Addison. Pull the trigger. Go ahead. Do it."
Addison's revolver, heavy, as if it weighed a hundred pounds, shook in his trembling hands. She stepped into him, pressing her forehead to the muzzle of his gun.
Maya scowled past the barrel, her eyes locking with Addison's, spittle flying from her lips. "I am the beginning and the end. The alpha and the omega. I do regret your father, but it was…necessary. He said the damn League was more important. More important than what is rightfully mine?"
Addison increased pressure on the trigger, his eyes flooding with tears. "Please, don't make me do this."
"Come on, Addison. If you're going to be an Inker you've got to be willing to do whatever it takes to protect the time continuum--even kill your mommy. Do your Inker duty. Do it!"
His hand shaking, he cried out in defeated exasperation, dropping the weapon to his side. "NO! Mom, please. No."
She turned away with a satisfied grin and waved her gun at him, laughing. "I've been in the driver's seat for lifetimes, son. No one, not you, not even your League, or what's left of it, will be able to stop me. Now, I'm going to leave, my dear, and you're not going to follow me. Otherwise, your mother will have to have some cross words with you. Understand?"
She adjusted the messenger bag strap on her shoulder, and walked out of the office, past the
dead receptionist to the elevator door. Addison stood, frozen, his eyes closed, trying to keep out the madness, his mind racing to catch up with the chaos around him. Kairos has my mother's consciousness? Could it be true? Opening his eyes, the blood and gore at Cameron's desk brought him back to the present. He turned, running for the elevators.
Fifty feet away, Maya stepped toward open elevator doors. He fired a shot in her direction, the bullet ricocheting off a stainless steel panel, but missing her by several feet. She fired back several times, all the shots veering wide, then let the elevator doors close behind her. Rushing to the elevator an illuminated arrow pointed up. She was going to the roof. Addison pulled out his building sphere.
"Open the door. I need to take that elevator. OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!"
"The next elevator will be available in…twenty-six seconds."
"Shit."
A staircase door caught his eye. He ran, flinging the door open, and took the steps two at a time up three flights of stairs. Crashing through the rooftop exit door, the deafening whine and whoosh of her Tre Venti helicraft lifting off filled the air. To his horror, Maya was escaping and she had all five pens. The three-engined craft flew rapidly away to the east toward the Cascade Mountains. Another aircraft sat on the port—a quadrocopter looking something like a four-legged spider with a circular fan engine at the end of each leg. Painted across its hull were the words, 'Puget Sound Sky Tours'.
Without thinking, he ran across the port to the quadrocopter, opened the cockpit door, and got in. For a moment he panicked. Dials, knobs, levers surrounded him. What am I doing? The only aircraft Addison had flown to his knowledge in this continuum or any other, were virtual aircraft in digital gaming systems. I was in the military in this continuum. I flew. He let some of his consciousness from this continuum enter his awareness, knowing he could lose himself to this world, but also knowing he had to take the risk. Emotions and memories surged through his heart and his mind, his grief rising with a pain deep in his gut. He fought for control, flashes of memory from battle, dead friends, heavy fire, dust, blood, and death. And then it came into focus. I flew an attack quadrocopter in the war! Mind and muscle memory flowed through him. He reached, without needing to look, for a control with a single word emblazoned—START. Pushing the button, the quadrocopter's systems came to life and the engines wound up. A heads-up screen filled his vision and an ocular flight control, resembling goggles, descended from overhead.
"I can do this."
He pushed what he recalled was the throttle forward, the engines roaring as he scanned upward with his eyes. The craft shot up into the air, turning abruptly right. He corrected for a moment, but the nose dropped, the copter plummeting. In response he gazed up, once again shooting the craft skyward.
He closed his eyes, willing his awareness to focus on his piloting skills in this continuum., the craft leveling off into a stationary hover. He took a deep breath, opening his eyes. Soon he found a middle ground, moving forward without erratic deviations. Maya's aircraft had almost disappeared in the distance. He took another deep breath, and eased the throttle forward to full power. His quadrocopter accelerated, illuminated condominium towers and office buildings whizzing by. He figured Maya didn't expect him to follow her and certainly not in a turbocharged quadrocopter. She had to be flying east to escape low, through the mountain pass.
Racing past Lake Washington to the foothills of the Cascades, past jagged cliff faces and steep, wooded slopes, he quickly closed the distance. Her Tre Venti maintained a straight-line path, apparently unaware of his approach. He tucked in behind her, ready to follow her every move. All he needed now was a plan. I'll follow her and when she lands, maybe I can reason with her, give her a chance…
Before he could complete his thought, Maya looped up, over and behind him. Damn. She has sensor gear. He spun his craft around to follow her, only to see flashes from the Tre Venti followed by chink, chink, chink, chink, BOOM! Lights flashed, warning bells sounded. She's armed?
"Engine two failure. Warning. Engine two failure. Land immediately. Warning. Engine…"
A corner of his quadrocopter lifted skyward, the dead weight of the smoking engine throwing the aircraft out of balance. Leveling out, the craft spun in place to maintain stability.
Fire. Engine two. Fire. Engine two. Fire…"
Nausea roiled through Addison, the outside world a blur, as he fought to get his body and the copter back under control.
"“Shut down engines two and four."
"Confirm, shut down engines—"
"Shut down the damned engines two and four. NOW."
"Engine shut down commencing."
As the two engines wound down, Addison maintained a balanced lift and kept the copter from spinning by configuring the flight computer for the remaining two engines. Just like I've done hundreds of times practicing emergency procedures. He turned to follow Maya, but thought better of it. She now had the advantages of sensors, speed, and maneuverability, not to mention a weapon system. There's got to be a way. Throttling his remaining engines, he ascended to ten thousand feet, Maya's copter a speck in the distance. I've got to stop her. For Jules, for everyone. Angling for a collision course, he pushed the engines as much as they would take, using their thrust and diving several thousand feet to make up the distance. The engines screamed under the strain. Her Tre Venti grew rapidly in his windscreen as he raced toward her. His craft shook violently, on the verge of breaking up. You are not getting those pens. Not on my watch. No fucking way!
"Collision in ten seconds. Warning. Collision in five seconds. Warning."
Caught unaware, Addison flew right through her with a screeching thunder of exploding composites and titanium structure, shearing off her two front engine pods along with one of his own working engines. Everything went topsy-turvey, G-forces whipping him around, only his safety harness keeping him in place. The world became a jumbled kaleidoscopic blur of color and shape. He reached for a red handle, his craft spinning wildly out of control, pulling with all of his strength. The cockpit pod blew free from the airframe, taking a curving trajectory toward fast-approaching ground. With a soft pop, a parachute deployed from the pod, slowing it. A screeching and cracking of tree branches preceded the pod slamming into a sloping hillside, then careening off boulders, smashing through trees, branches and saplings for what seemed an eternity, finally coming to rest with a sudden CRACK. For a moment all went still. Addison, shaken and disoriented, took in some deep breaths, then let out a loud sigh of relief. Okay, that was a crazy-ass maneuver. At least I stopped her. The pod lurched, accompanied by a metallic scrape. He braced himself, but the pod remained stable, as if it had settled. Looking out the pod windshield, he could see that the ground fell away steeply. I must be wedged against a tree or something. With a creak, it lurched again. He reached for the harness release. I better get out of here.
CCRRAAAACCKKK!
Ground and sky flipped as the pod tumbled, first slowly, then building to a terrible, out-of-control velocity, smacking trees, smashing into rocks, snapping saplings, caroming down the wooded hill, and flying off a rock ledge to land with horrific force, finally coming to rest. Addison, still strapped in, drifted to unconsciousness.
Coming to, he hurt all over. Warm blood oozed from a cut on his face. His head throbbed and his ears rang, but he had survived. He tore away his harness, opened the hatch, and tossed out his gun. Aching limbs protesting as he heaved himself out of the remains of his safety pod, he fell onto moist, leaf-covered ground.
Shhhhhh.
Rushing water? Just by his feet a clear mountain stream rushed by. Catching his breath, he followed the path of a leaf in the rill until it disappeared from his view. An eagle's scream punctuated the air. He stood, slipping the gun into his waistband. I don't have the pens, but at least I stopped Maya from using them.
A hundred yards away, the pod from the other aircraft lay half-buried in leaves. The impact surely killed her. A figure appeared at its hatch. Maya. She f
ell out, on hands and knees. Rising to stand on unsteady legs, she glanced his way, then stumbled into the woods.
Addison chased after her. The overcast sky filtered muted light through the forest canopy. Maya's breath clouded the cool, damp air as she turned from the stream, climbing a hillside through lush ferns and dense woods. Only fifty yards away now, his arm bleeding, his head throbbing, Maya, possibly his mother, attempting to escape. She had all the pens. If she destroyed them, reality would be set. The Inca Empire would control the entire Southern Hemisphere, fighting a massive world war with the North, not to mention a million other breaks in reality due to a shifting temporal flow. Jules, his partner would be trapped in the sixteenth century and Nikki would never exist. And if Maya used the pens to shape reality, God only knew what she might create or, more to the point, destroy. He had to stop her.
He charged up the hill, using limbs and vines for leverage, gaining on her with each step. She paused, gun pointed toward him, glaring, gasping for air, eyes filled with rage and determination. A loud blast echoed in the hills, Maya's bullet splintering a tree to his right, inches from his face. He pushed on. Only twenty yards behind his quarry now, he took the pistol from his waistband. "Stop, Maya."
She kept moving.
"Stop." He raised his gun. "Rebecca…MOM!" He fired once. Twice. Three times. His last shot hit her square in the back. She fell, her gun flying out of her hand. As he ran to her, Maya pulled herself to a seated position with her back against a large Douglas fir, a pen in one hand and a pad of paper in the other, the messenger bag open at her side.
"Maya. Stop what you're doing. Stop!"
As she wrote on the pad, she looked up to him. "Goodbye, dear Addison."
"Maya, Mom, stop. Please don't make me do this."
She continued to scrawl on the pad. “He won’t let me go…”
He bore down on her, desperation clawing at him. She would ink before he got to her. "MOM, NO!" Addison fired, in a frantic attempt to stop her, the bullet entering her left eye, slamming her head against the tree's thick grooved bark. Her body slumped, sliding sideways, blood smearing down the centuries old fir, then seeping into green, moss-covered soil.
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