“Whoa,” was all he could manage, and when he observed the sweeping view of the Pacific, he had to sit down. “Whoa!”
“Pretty neat, huh?” Teresa stood on the front porch, carrying a large tray of what looked like a homemade recipe hours in the making. “Sorry to have disoriented you like that, but from time to time I have to relocate. Hazards of the trade,” she winked. “I’m sure you’re all hungry, right?”
“YEAH!” Pud scurried up the steps, following Teresa inside.
Jack found Amelia standing by the cliff’s edge, hands on the old wooden safety rail, watching the surf crash against the rocks below.
Seeing how she was absorbed, he didn’t try to rouse her. He turned and started toward the house to join everyone else inside when she stopped him.
“It’s getting worse,” she said.
He hurried closer to her.
“What’s getting worse? Do you see where my dad is?”
She breathed deeply. “Jack, did I ever tell you why I became such good friends with Argus Cole?”
His stomach was a sudden tempest of butterflies. The mere mention of that boy’s name drove him into a rage inside. On the outside, he showed none of it. Amelia must have taken his silence as acceptance of the subject.
“I never told you this, Jack, but I see some kind of connection between you and him. He’s got spirit clothes like yours.”
“Spirit clothes?”
“Yeah, you remember? I see auras, only I call them spirit clothes.”
“Yeah I remember. So what are you saying? You’re drawn to him? You want to be with him and not me?”
“Jack,” she looked at him with suffering eyes. “How can you say that?”
He stared at his feet. “I’m sorry. I just don’t understand this obsession with Argus Cole. Ever since he got here, it’s been Argus this and Argus that. It’s like you’re…you’re falling for him or something.”
She said not a word.
“Amelia?”
Silence.
“Are you? Are you falling in love with him?”
“Jack,” she giggled uneasily. “We’re ten. I’m not falling in love with anybody. I’m just—”
“What, then?” Jack interrupted. “What is it? What do you call it when all you do is hang out with him? Every time you come over to see me he’s there. What gives?”
She stared at him, tears building on her lashes.
“I don’t know what it is, Jack,” she wiped her cheek and sniffled. “And I know I’m hurting you. I know. But I have to do this. I have to.”
“Do what? You have to be with him?”
“You don’t understand.”
“Make me understand!”
Liz hung out the window. “Jack! Amelia! Come inside, kids! It’s time for dinner!”
“Yeah, come on!” Lily popped up next to her mom, her golden curls bouncing, her bright smile beaming. “We’re waiting for you!”
Without any more words, Jack and Amelia marched inside. The whole time they ate—a delicious banquet of baked ham and potatoes and just about every fresh vegetable known to the culinary world, and some not known—they barely acknowledged each other’s presence. They sat as far from each other as possible and avoided eye contact.
Dinner was delicious as usual, thanks to Teresa’s cooking, or her magic, they still weren’t sure which. For entertainment, Pud tantalized Jack and Takota with the story of their narrow escape from Winmart, and another shadowy, sinister group of men in suits and sunglasses. They all agreed it wasn’t Archer Savage and his thugs. They also agreed the men, whoever they were, did indeed come from the government. What happened to Ben was also still a mystery. Though Jack had the feeling it wouldn’t be a mystery for long.
THIRTEEN
BEN DIDN’T LIKE TO WORK with an audience usually. But in this case, with state-of-the-art equipment, and one of the greatest archeological discoveries known to mankind entrusted to him, he’d make an exception.
Trembling, his gloved hand brushed aside yet another delicate layer of dust. Then he stopped breathing. There it was, staring right at him, and it looked amazing.
“We have no time, Ben! Hurry!”
“I’m going as fast as I can!” Ben wiped the sweat from his brow. No room for mistakes. No time for meltdowns. That was the past. This was the new and improved Ben James, and he was out to prove to the world that his constructing the O/A was no fluke.
“Okay,” he swiped his finger across the control screen, initiating the power sequence on the portable Quantum Foam vessel he’d developed. “Here we go.”
The rock formation quivered. People standing near the monolith backed away just in time before several large chunks broke free.
“Ben! Look out!”
He had no choice but to remain motionless. One sudden move and the foam compound might have been weakened. Luckily, the tumbling boulders missed by inches, coming down hard on the ground nearby and kicking up enough dust to parch his throat.
Coughing the scratchiness away, he, for the first time, allowed himself to study the pillar in intimate detail. A four-sided rock edifice extending quite high, older than the pyramids of Giza, and once looking over the Tigris valley, though centuries of neglect and overgrowth had rendered it virtually invisible.
Until the Eteeans came around.
Ben’s Quantum Foam lit up like a torch when it came within range of the column, a sign that the treasure he and the Eteeans were seeking was just within reach. Now, though, he was too concerned with keeping the container safe from falling debris. The stakes were high, and he knew it all depended on him.
The Eteean team, professionals in fields ranging from quantum physics to astrophysics, genetics, archeology and anthropology, all grouped together near the solid rock adorned in undocumented languages, depictions of odd animals, machines, and even what looked like aliens. To Ben they weren’t odd at all. They were the very representation of his life, carved in solid stone tableaus. It was like someone had seen the future, his future, and chiseled it out hundreds of years before it happened.
The stone, however solid it appeared, was becoming less and less stable. Ben looked up in time to see the top shake. As if it were on a spring, the capstone toppled over, crashing and breaking apart on the way down, sending several scientists and soldiers scattering for cover.
Ben was the first one to enter the fissure that had broken open as a result of the quake. Every step he took, he felt a stronger and stronger attraction, a magnetic force drawing him nearer. Finally, as far inside as he could go, he came upon what looked like a stone sarcophagus. Thick sides and an even thicker lid. However, when he pushed it, the cover slid open easily, and inside, the light reminded him of the dreams he’d been having all his life. He stepped back to the edge and smiled at the apprehensive faces below, camouflaged in dense jungle.
“Well?” Klein crossed his arms.
“Found it!” Ben announced.
“Good,” the commander said. “Let’s get it to the lab, pronto!”
THE ‘LAB,’ AS Commander Klein called it, was, to Ben, the ultimate display of technological prowess. Quantum computers based on atomic spin. DNA-based data storage and retrieval. It surpassed anything in the consumer market by at least a decade, possibly more. The first time Ben had seen the facilities, cut deep into the side of an arctic mountain, it drove him to speechlessness. Wall-to-wall advanced tech everywhere, and, as he would discover later, all his to use.
“Hey!” he’d said that first day to a group of knowing glances. “This is my machine!” he looked around. “This is my invention!”
“Relax, Mister James,” he recalled the commander stepping down from the metal stairs leading from his office, followed closely by two armed guards. It was the first time Ben had laid eyes on the man. “You’ll come to understand it all soon. Very soon.”
Learn he did. He’d gotten a crash course in twenty-four hours, the entire lowdown of the impending disaster, and at that point he wished he was ju
st a high school science teacher again. But that was yesterday. Today he had a job to do, and he intended on doing it well. After all, the fate of the universe depended on it.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Ben raised his voice. “We’re a ‘go’ this time. I repeat…this is not a drill. The countdown has begun!”
Ben pressed the extrapolator, and the image of his workstation appeared in hologram several feet above, showing the entire team his progress.
“The machine has been fitted with new omnidimensional receptors. Its synapses have been restored. A new Gravitomiton power source has been retrofitted and replaced,” his hand hovered over the interface. It looked as inert as a common stone. “Initiating power-up sequence,” he smiled. Inside, though, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of trepidation, and, somehow, he thought the machine could sense that.
An audible buzz permeated the facility as the ancient device’s dull gray exterior, cloudy and impenetrable, began to revitalize. Subdued colors and dim luster became vibrant iridescence, glowing and vigorous and bright. Suddenly, Ben had a sparkling jewel in his hand. Then a familiar sound—whistling, chirping, singing. With it came another noise.
Whumpwhumpwhump!
The power source was kicking into gear.
“Duck soup! It’s working…its working!”
The ancient machine—built in another time, forged in another place, imagined in another language—wasn’t the same as the O/A. He understood none of the symbols, and could only hope he’d set the device on level one, the lowest power setting. Or else...he didn’t want to think about it.
The thundering became louder. The machine grew brighter. The crusty, accumulated grime of five thousand years chipped and fell away, revealing a churning, vast inner substructure. Endless complex geometric shapes, spinning and roiling, in a state of celebration after being held for so long in a state of catatonic dormancy. Ben felt joy from the ancient machine. Liberation. It expressed its gratitude by infusing him with power, the great and mysterious omnidimensional field.
Each of the scientists stood frozen, big eyes peeled on the dimensional phenomena, the duplicating of Ben’s physical form over and over and over. What they didn’t know was how much actual strength it gave him. They’d soon find out, and so would he. The hard way.
A ripple in the field hit him with a little too much power. He felt it in his chest, a wave of intensity so extreme he couldn’t breathe.
“Dimensional overload!” he wheezed. The barrage of thoughts and emotions, actions and reactions, possibilities unknown and known, all intersected and twisted his mind into a pretzel. Just as with his own invention, the power became too much too fast, though he was ninety-nine percent positive he had the machine only on the lowest setting.
Just to be one hundred percent, he double-checked, and stared at the strange icon.
“What is it?” the commander yelled into the howling wind kicked up by the dimensional feedback. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know this symbol. I don’t know what it says. I hope it’s a one.”
The commander studied the machine. “What do you mean you hope!”
“Oh no! Not Again!” Ben fought against the surge, struggling to keep the machine from buckling out of his hands. Staggering backward against a tabletop, he felt more dimensional duplicates merging with him. More minds melding. More strength coursing through his body. So strong that when he leaned on a fifty-ton stone, it cracked to pieces and began to crumble to the ground, sending the scientists, coughing dust from their lungs, into a mad rush for safety. As the machine fluctuated in Ben’s hand, the wind picked up even more, and brought with it thunderous sounds. Tiny tornadoes sprung up here and there, dust and debris kicking in the air, forcing everyone to take further cover. Ben felt dizzy just before the earth shook so hard he and the commander both fell to their hands and knees.
“This can’t be happening!” Ben watched a thin fracture in the wall form into a snake, growing longer and longer. He pressed firmly on the machine’s interface, willing it to stop.
“Turn it off! Turn it off!” the commander begged.
“I’m trying!” Ben held the device despite its attempts to struggle free. He had flashes to his past attempts at controlling the O/A at its maximum setting. Each time he’d tried, someone nearly died, and that thought became foremost on his mind as he begged the machine to power down. Again and again he pressed and held the button, praying it would respect his command.
Finally, mercifully, it did just that. The walls wobbled less and less. The air turbulence weakened to nothing. The floor felt solid again. He surveyed the damage, anxious to check on the health, or lack thereof, of his colleagues. When he found them huddled in a group, he knew immediately they were skeptical no more.
“Well,” the commander said. “At least we know it works.”
Ben sighed. “It works. But, like I told you, I’m not the operator. It takes a very special mind.”
FOURTEEN
JACK SAT WITH HIS arms crossed, staring out the window at Teresa’s garden, a magnificent mixture of veggies and herbs and spectacular flower rows that interlocked and twisted in a maze of color. Bees buzzed, dragonflies zipped back and forth, and hummingbirds darted from one healthy bloom to the next. The natural beauty of his surroundings should have lifted his spirits. They didn’t.
“You’re not still angry with me, are you?” Amelia sat in a parlor chair, its backrest adorned with carvings of cats and moons.
“He’s in one of his moods,” Liz said from the hall. “I thought after he ate something, maybe he’d feel better. But I guess I was wrong.”
Jack pretended to not hear, choosing instead to keep his eyes focused on nature’s spectacle outside.
“Jack, please don’t be mad at me.”
“Why’s he mad at you?” Liz came closer, and the two talked about him as if he weren’t there.
“I’m not sure,” Amelia said. “He has no reason to be upset at me,” she turned to him. “Really, Jack, you don’t.”
“Is this about another boy?” Liz got a little too personal for Jack’s taste. He stood and went upstairs when Amelia caught up with him.
“Jack, please. Try to under—” her speech cut off in midsentence and she looked like she was staring at something far, far away. Jack had seen that look before.
“What is it?” he shook her gently.
“I-I,” she blinked over and over. “I don’t know. It’s…it’s nothing, I guess.”
Jack insisted. “What, Amelia? Tell me.”
“Amelia!” Ayita, out of breath and anxious, sprinted into the circular study. “Amelia, something’s wrong!”
As soon as she finished uttering her words, a blinding light erupted outside the window. Another, thinner, even more intense beam shot toward the house and shattered the glass. Without a sound, a sparkling, shimmering sphere rose to the second floor where the witnesses stood dumfounded. Jack noticed inside the translucent ball floated a human form, a child, dressed in some sort of protective suit, with a strange helmet covering the face.
“Who is that!” he screamed the question that was assuredly on everyone’s mind.
All five Tanakee sprang into action at once, each one leaping toward the sudden and mysterious intruder in the brilliant bubble. With almost supernatural skill and speed, the stranger avoided them all. In that miniscule sliver of time, as the tiny creatures soared through the air, Jack saw, hovering above the masked intruder’s shoulder, a fist-sized object which looked suspiciously like...the O/A!
It glowed like the O/A. It had the same shape as the O/A. It gave off the same resounding hum as the O/A. The only thing different was its color, a deep, dark amber instead of a dreamy mixture of purple and blue.
Both Takota and Cheyton, with a bit of supernatural speed and skill of their own, soared to cut the intruder off in the middle of his aerial exercise. Both furry creatures slammed headlong into the bright bubble, which turned out to be an impenetrable protective shell, just li
ke the O/A. Jack was stunned, unable, and unwilling to recognize this could be happening.
“Jack!” Amelia ripped him from his bleak thoughts. She and his mother both screamed at him.
“Jack! Wake up!” Liz hugged him tight. He heard Lily whimpering behind his mother, though his eyes were still locked on the boy with the imposter O/A.
“Jack! Do something!”
He tugged the machine from his pocket and pressed hard, holding on until maximum omnidimensional absorption was achieved. The stranger, after flying into a rapid climbing maneuver, circled and then hovered, coming face-to-face with Jack. He seemed to notice the O/A, and sent a burst of amber light directly at Jack’s hands, knocking the machine free. It went careening across the wood floor, not stopping until it hit Teresa’s foot.
She picked the O/A up and tossed it at Jack again. He plucked it from the air and nodded, then faced the imposter once more, vast amounts of dimensional energy flowing through his veins. The other child smiled. He could see lips under a glassy helmet which concealed the kid’s eyes and nose. And, oddest of all, the child wore some sort of skintight, multi-layered armor, with luminescent channels coursing along the black fabric. Thin lines running up the arms and down the legs and crisscrossing about the chest forming esoteric symbols. To Jack it looked almost as if the inner workings from the O/A had been supplanted into the suit.
A sudden epiphany brought a flourish of nervous thoughts. This intruder seemed fully equipped with the same technology as Jack. Possibly even more advanced.
After that, things went from bad to worse.
The steep hillside overlooking the ocean trembled. Jack thought a landslide would take them all into the Pacific. Then, from the old narrow road, rushed a convoy of military transport vehicles, screeching to a dusty, rock-strewn stop. Soldier after soldier hustled out the backs of the trucks, large, threatening rifles in hand. Only the five brave Tanakee stood in their way.
In a move too fast for the human eye, each Tanakee split into two copies, exact replicas of themselves. Assuming fighting stances, the ten of them formed a blockade in front of Teresa’s property.
Jack James and the Call of the Tanakee Page 10