And he still had the fifth piece on his arm.
Bledsoe faced Bernie, left hand raised in a fist and the right pointing his gun at Winston’s body. “What in the ever-loving hell?! Did you know this would happen?” Not caring whether or not there was an answer, Bledsoe continued by pointing at Claude. “And him! I know he’s tied into this mess. It’s his job to go down there and get the piece.”
Bernie stared at Bledsoe expressionlessly, and only the increase of indigo and pinching of patterns toward the retinas’ centers indicated that some change was afoot.
“Well, it ain’t mine, is it?” Bledsoe raged. “You promised me that Winston would serve my needs. That was our deal. My as-sis-tant!” he enunciated. “Somebody’s gotta get down there and fish that thing out!”
Amanda continued to sob in Claude’s arms. He rubbed her back with one hand and kept repeating, “It’s OK. It’s OK.” as if he were trying to soothe a baby to sleep.
God, these people! It was like a big conspiracy to slow him down and interrupt the inevitable. All of this sappy, theatrical sentimentalism. None of it mattered.
He blinked at Bledsoe repeatedly. A slight crease appeared between his brows, and Bledsoe noticed the gray skin of his knuckles turning paler as he gripped the large artifact’s crossbar.
“What?” asked Bledsoe. “What if I what?”
The alien’s eyes had gone almost entirely blue, like cobalt glass. Bledsoe couldn’t be entirely sure over the pool room’s incessant motor noise, but he thought he heard a low hum or rumbling from somewhere in Bernie’s throat.
Suddenly, Bernie glanced toward the room’s entrance and said,
“Damn it!”
Bledsoe raised his handgun and took several steps toward the entrance. He studied where the catwalk joined the far wall, wondering if he could defend their position while Claude retrieved the Alpha Machine piece. It was at least forty yards from the middle of the catwalk where they stood to the top-level balcony that overlooked the main chamber — a dicey shot for a 9 mm but no problem for trained guards with rifles. And here he was with a dying, possibly dead, and amply bloody body beside him, never mind the other one in the pool.
Nope, time to cut his losses, grab the Alpha Machine, and get out of here for a do-over.
As Bledsoe started to turn back, he caught a bright light from the corner of his eye. Blue and white.
At first, Bledsoe didn’t understand. No one should be using the Alpha Machine but him. Then he focused on Bernie seated atop the catwalk railing, one hand holding himself for balance. His other hand gripped the large artifact, within which spun the four Alpha Machine pieces, all enmeshed in their own brilliant outbursts of energy.
“No!” cried Bledsoe as he leaped toward Bernie.
Bledsoe barely made out a slight crease at the corner of the alien’s mouth.
“No!” thundered Bledsoe as he stomped on the catwalk with his heel and pounded on the railing just vacated by the alien. “Bernie, I won’t allow it!”
Near Bledsoe, Claude pulled away slightly from Amanda. He brushed the damp locks of dark hair from her cheek. With a small smile and a sigh, he kissed her and whispered, “Slippery.”
***
Before him, Winston spied a silver crescent that had been hidden under the photo, precariously balanced atop the spent fuel rods.
As his balance and vision failed, Winston managed to slip the crescent onto his left arm.
Ha, he thought. First time scrawny arms came in handy.
His lungs screamed for air as his insides melted in fiery acid.
Winston heard the unmistakable sound of something large striking the water far above. Had the catwalk collapsed? No. Perhaps Bledsoe had thrown something else at him. Maybe an air tank? The possibility seemed too kind to be plausible.
He wanted to see what it was, but moving felt impossible, and there was no point. His vision had reduced to an infinity of blue filtered through the darkness of his own blood.
Then something touched him. Fingers slid over the back of his neck.
And suddenly the water was gone. He could hear it cascade all around him, falling and splashing into more water far below. Some hard surface bit into his face and body as his lungs struggled between drawing in air and feeling as if they would rupture if he took in the slightest gasp.
“Winston!” cried his mother.
He wanted to move, at least to call out to her, but he couldn’t. His insides were still a coiling mass of pain. Winston opened his eyes just enough to see light, but everything remained a bloody film. He closed the lids tightly and tried again. A little clarity returned — shapes in a hazy, dark obscurity.
Amanda’s hands fluttered all over his head and shoulders. “Winston, can you hear me?”
He managed a small grunt.
He realized that his right arm rested before his face. The skin looked icy pale atop black metal ribs.
The catwalk, he realized. Somehow, he was back where he’d started.
Then another thought struck: His arm was white. There was hardly any blue to it at all. He wasn’t healing.
Apparently, he wasn’t the only one with that thought, because Amanda said, “Bernie says you’re not hearing him. You also need help right now. The device can help, but he says it’s almost out of power.”
Device? She had to mean Little e.
“So, is anyone coming or not?” called Bledsoe. “I wish you would’ve said you were going to get him. I thought…”
Bledsoe didn’t finish his sentence, and Winston couldn’t piece together the man’s words into meaning. Who had come for him? Not Bledsoe. His father?
Bernie took Amanda’s place at his side. With a small clatter, the alien released the four Alpha Machine pieces onto the catwalk beside Winston. This freed Little e’s arms to fan out and spread wide, like the spokes of a wheel. Bernie gently placed the arms against Winston’s ribs and bowed his head.
Almost immediately, Winston felt a wave of warmth spread throughout his chest. Little e’s arms glowed faintly, and Winston’s skin began to blossom with a similar celeste hue. Second by second, Winston felt himself able to breathe more easily. The howling fire in his belly began to recede. When he blinked again, he saw Bernie’s face peering down at him. The alien’s large eyes swam with shades of emerald, azure, and gold. Somehow, the hint of a smile was on the alien’s lips, even though the tone of his complexion was fading from gray to a pale ash. Bernie had to be powering Little e from his own body.
Bernie’s pause was so quick that Winston barely noticed it.
Bernie shifted Little e to focus on Winston’s abdomen and took a long breath.
Winston noticed his chest and arms now glowing fiercely.
Winston found that he could smile, although it made his face ache.
The gold flecks
in Bernie’s eyes pulsed.
Two hands quickly descended into Winston’s field of view. One scooped up the four Alpha Machine pieces while the other yanked the crescent-shaped artifact free from Winston’s arm.
“About time!” crowed Bledsoe as he took a step back.
By the time Winston could crane his head around, Bledsoe already had the two rings and tori floating above his left hand. They began to spin and rotate. Apparently unsure exactly what to do, he brought the fifth piece near the other four. He started at the top of the silver ring, but the tell-tale magnetic pull didn’t grab the crescent. He tried the bottom. Sure enough, Winston saw the crescent pull free from his fingers and lock into place in the gap between Bledsoe’s open hand and the larger ring. The crescent began to revolve in a circle under the other four pieces, forming some sort of base on which they functioned.
“Well, look at that,” Bledsoe exhaled, face alight with joy and anticipation. “And I know exactly where to start.”
“You all there!” shouted a voice from the pool room’s upper corner. Winston caught a flash of white and black uniform and a long object that had to be a rifle. “Stop and raise your hands!”
“Yes, sir!” said Bledsoe, raising the complete Alpha Machine higher.
Amanda stood two steps away from Bledsoe, and Winston noticed her eyes lock onto Bledsoe’s hand. She shifted her balance, a split-second from springing at him, and Winston instinctively knew that she planned to go over the side with him and into the radioactive depths in which he’d just nearly died.
She blinked, eyes darting back to him.
Her eyes blazed with fury.
Her body trembled, but after a moment her balance shifted again.
she said, nostrils flaring as her teeth clamped down on her top lip.
“Bledsoe!” Winston called, pleased to find his throat back in working if strained order. He had to know one last thing. “It’s not too late to do this right. We can go forward from here.”
“Oh, trust me,” said Bledsoe. “We’re well past going forward from here.”
“Please!” Winston protested. “You can’t just reboot everything!”
It didn’t seem possible, but Bledsoe’s clenched grin grew even wider. “Watch me.”
Winston felt the alien’s hand press more firmly on the right side of his chest while Little e’s arms applied more pressure to his ribs on the left. Bernie shifted his weight in anticipation.
“If anybody moves, I will fire!” said the security guard. Another man appeared behind him and, as a pair, they advanced to the stairwell leading down to the pool catwalk.
Winston knew that a long jump could not be done instantly. The user needed to navigate, and the jump needed a second or two to build.
Blue and white sparks formed above Bledsoe’s head, showering down on all sides of him. He would have a destination lock. Wherever it was would be filling his second reality layer. And then he would jump…right…
Bernie leaned forward and lifted Winston just far enough off the catwalk to throw him a couple of feet toward Bledsoe. At the same time, Winston stretched out his right arm. His glowing, damp fingers seized the man’s ankle.
A split second before Bledsoe made his jump.
34
Meeting the Omega Mesh
As the sparks about them fell away, Winston perceived untold millions of colors fading and pulsing about him in stitched and interwoven rainbows. From the corner of his eye, he seemed to be in a sphere, but wherever he focused, the space before him appeared to stretch on forever. It was overwhelming and disorienting and unspeakably beautiful all at once.
He then realized that, like a popped balloon, his pain had vanished, as had his body. He no longer grasped Bledsoe’s ankle because he had no arm — and no Bledsoe to hold on to. A moment before, Winston had been laying horizontally on the catwalk. Now, he had no idea which way he was oriented, or if there was even such a thing as himself anymore.
A wave of fear spread throughout his consciousness, but then he noticed an echo of his fear from somewhere nearby.
No…not an echo. Another presence besides himself.
Bledsoe.
{You are in a construct of the Omega Mesh.}
The words formed in Winston’s awareness with no voice connected to them. The communication was wholly unlike anything he had ever experienced. Because there was no voice, there was no sense of gender, mood, or time. The meaning simply occurred to him fully formed.
{You may consider it as such,} it replied.
So he was here. It helped Winston to imagine him being at arm’s length, just as he had left him. The idea of a spatial relationship gave Winston a point of reference in this kaleidoscopic chaos, some mental concept on which he could anchor himself.
{That question does not have a definite answer,} said the Omega Mesh. {It is irrelevant. At this scale, space is data.}
Winston couldn’t tell if the answer was a rebuke or merely a statement of fact. He suspected the latter. Either way, though, it made no sense.
Bledsoe’s sense of fear slowly evaporated and was replaced by curiosity.
{You will have questions,} said the Omega Mesh.
{Your translation remains in stasis.}
Winston felt anger begin to tinge Bledsoe’s consciousness.
{In that context, nothing has changed. You will proceed where you wish when you continue.}
said Bledsoe.
The multifarious bubble in which they floated shuddered once, sending ripples all around them like a never-ending wake.
{Procurement of the last Alpha Machine piece was necessary for a direct relationship with the Omega Machine. We are engaging in that process.}
said Winston at last.
{The fifth piece allows direct and thorough interchange between the Omega Mesh and your being.}
{Yes.}
A body and brain scan. No doubt, that included all memories, thoughts, and everything else that made Winston who he was. He felt himself contract in what would have physically been a cringe.
Bledsoe must have reached the same conclusion, because Winston felt him retreat. Obviously, he couldn’t go anywhere in here, but Bledsoe was trying to fold into himself and harden himself against the Omega Mesh’s probing, something like a mental armadillo.
Good luck with that, thought Winston, not knowing or caring whether Bledsoe could hear him.
{In what way?}
Winston wanted to say he believed the Omega Mesh had made a mistake, but that would probably be offensive, and he had no data to back up the statement. Winston sensed Bledsoe’s shield cracking, and from the gap poured mounting concern and anger.
he said before Bledsoe could cut him off.
Winston immediately regretted his final words. They undercut his argument and made his remarks sound self-centered.
{All of those statements are irrelevant,} replied the Omega Mesh. {Devlin Bledsoe’s existence and leadership are the key factors that determine the maximum time extension until the Silence.}
said Winston.
More ripples ran across the surface of their prismatic holding cell.
Winston expected Bledsoe to make an attempt at shouting him down. Instead, the man merely said,
Winston wanted to bury the man in logic and bulletproof arguments, but he had nothing. He didn’t know Bledsoe’s past or mind any more than the man knew his. Maybe there were good reasons for why he was this way. In the end, though, none of that mattered. Even if he had good points and deserved pity, that didn’t make him fit to lead or give him the right to slaughter entire populations.
Winston only said,
The sphere about them contracted, pulling in so much that Winston felt if he could extend an arm, he might be able to brush the colors with his fingertips. He felt himself condense with his prison of a universe, and he had the impression of being an imploding star, with the forces that made him whole collapsing in and in, down and down. In another moment he might become an impossibly small singularity, whereupon it would only take a nudge, a whisper, for him to become a black hole and devour himself.
Winston Chase- The Complete Trilogy Page 92