by Jacob Whaler
The moment of absolution and purification has arrived.
Miyazawa waves the incense in broad arcs over their heads. Thousands of hands stretch out to him, receiving the proffered gift. Long suppressed voices begin to chant. Whispered at first, the chanting rises in volume and power until it rocks Miyazawa and the steps he stands on. He opens himself to it, channeling the waves of sound through his body.
Replacing the incense sticks, he moves down the steps onto the pathway of pearls.
The adulation bears him back to the open doors of the heli-transport. He turns and bows deeply to the faithful. The chanting has long since turned to yelling, screaming, begging. As the hysteric masses surge forward, police step in front with their lithium poles and bar the way.
Miyazawa allows a faint smile and backs into the interior of the transport. The glass closes, and the silent rotors pull it straight up and away.
Miyazawa stares down.
“Magnificent!” an aide says. “The way of the Kami has been opened in yet another corner of the world. It will flow from this spot to fill all of South America.”
Without bothering to respond, Miyazawa opens his arms and legs into a spread eagle and waits for the aids to remove the robes, shoes and cap. Their upper bodies bow at right angles and move away. Ryzaard walks to the left, and the doors to his personal quarters open. He passes into the room as the doors silently come together behind him.
Staring down through the transparent floor of the transport, the coastline of Rio de Janeiro peels away.
The throngs of white disappear beyond the horizon. He reaches into a drawer and takes out a blue cube. With practiced movement, he peels off a thin derm patch and lays it on his wrist.
The rush is immediate, engulfing him in a world of white and weightlessness.
CHAPTER 38
Jhata wonders how long it will take for the Lethonen to discover that she’s been snooping around in the planetary network they discovered and revealed to Ryzaard.
If they are monitoring this magnificent structure, she guesses they will soon appear to investigate. Indeed, they may have already detected her presence. It will likely force them to make an appearance and see what is going on. Once she figures out how the Lethonen connect to the network, she’ll need to sever the nexus that gives them access to it. Then she can make it her own.
She asks herself the question again.
How is it that the Lethonen stumbled upon this planetary machine perfectly constructed for the purpose of controlling the minds of almost unlimited multitudes? Who made it? How long has it existed?
Jhata doesn’t expect to find the answers. All that matters is that it now belongs to her.
She is fully aware that it is rarely wise to meddle in the affairs of the Miserable Ones, as she privately calls the Lethonen. They are always drawn to the Stones and those who possess them. Power is their obsession, yet the Lethonen exist on a different plane, neither matter nor energy, and are never able to directly grasp the source of that power. They must work through others. Their frustration is palpable. The Stones, the sole object of their attention, are beyond their reach. Their only choice is to access the Stones through other Holders, promising to unlock dark secrets that will make the Holders even more powerful. In return, the Holders offer themselves up as instruments in the hands of the Lethonen.
Early in her life as a Stone Holder, Jhata was tempted to do the same. It was when the Stones were still new and unique to her. The Miserable Ones had come soon after, seemingly able to sniff out the emergence of a Stone. They asked that she submit to their authority over the Stones. When she refused, they came back and demanded it. When she refused again, they begged and pleaded for it. Each time, she endured their presence.
At times, it was frightening, even overwhelming, but she never gave in.
Others had not been so resolute in their independence. In the many thousands of years of her life, she had seen other finders of the Stones. At least one on every world with sentient life. Those who allowed themselves to be tutored and taught by the Lethonen eventually found themselves prisoners and slaves to their control. There was a pattern. Such Holders quickly learned the ways of the Stones, but just as quickly let the unlimited power destroy them.
Those who became the instruments of the Lethonen never held the Stones for long.
Jhata had been wise. She learned a valuable lesson as a young girl and never apprenticed herself to the Miserable Ones. From time to time, she worked in distant cooperation with them, even benefiting from their subjugation of other Stone Holders, swooping in to collect a Stone when the current Holder had fallen victim to the machinations of the Lethonen. But she was careful to keep her distance, always promising to join their ranks, to bring them the true power of the Stones.
The strategy worked. Over the years, with patience and independence, her collection of Stones was ever-growing, her power ever-expanding. The Lethonen were constantly kept in a state of anticipation for the day when the power amassed by Jhata would become theirs. All the while, she kept a respectful distance, fully in control of her own destiny.
That is all about to change.
When the Lethonen confront her about her meddling in the planetary network, as they inevitably will, it will be the first time she directly challenges their authority.
Jhata moves her mind back into the core of the planetary network and lets it pull her around its myriad circuits. With a firm grip on a Stone, she is anchored in its power. Using all her faculties, she strains to feel the location of the nexus through which the Lethonen control it.
They will be surprised to see her waiting for them.
And then it comes.
A subtle phase shift in energy levels at one of the trillions upon trillions of nodes on the planet’s surface. She crosses to it in a tenth of a nanosecond, punches through the planet’s surface and shoots up the long cable attached to the spot. As she reaches the top, she notices a difference. All the other cables are attached to monstrous shark heads. The one she travels up has a sphere of black glass on the end, two meters in diameter.
A mist is forming in space just outside the sphere. It starts to condense into a roughly humanoid shape. Jhata feels the familiar chill of an approaching entity.
It is the nexus she has been searching for.
Still present only in her mind, she marks the exact location of the black sphere. With minimal effort, she momentarily returns to her physical body in the laboratory. Wasting no time, she jumps back to the black sphere with all Stones hanging from her belt.
The nexus, the control node for the entire planetary network, floats in space just inches away.
She moves close to the nexus and examines its surface. As she stares down, it appears to be in a constant state of phase shift, oscillating back and forth between matter and energy, never quite one or the other.
It makes perfect sense. This is a bridge for the Lethonen, a way for them to access the material world of the planetary network. It’s also a pathway to power, a way to control the entire network, and everyone attached to it.
She grips her Stone more tightly, drawing on the power of all the Stones floating on her belt.
A vaguely anthropomorphic shape distills in the black mist.
Jhata moves so that she stands between it and the sphere. Turning, she lays the palm of her hand on its cold surface, feeling the subtle fluctuations. A protective bubble of green energy coalesces around her and the sphere, the clearest evidence that it now belongs to her.
A face appears.
Indistinct spots form where eyes and a mouth should be.
A massive hand reaches for the sphere. When it makes contact with the green protective bubble, shards of light burst from the bubble’s surface, and the hand pulls back. The dark hole of the mouth opens wide, filling the face and rending the space around it with an audible shriek. Its skin flows and shifts, going from smooth plastic to a hairy mass to glass to metallic in quick succession. Its outer shape loses a
ll definition as it pulls apart into multiple distinct entities.
They circle Jhata.
No matter how many times she faces them, she always has to fight back the urge to run away or cower before them. But that is all an internal struggle. On the surface, she displays her typical confidence and swagger.
“Quite an interesting device you have here.” Jhata motions down with her arms. “A planetary network. Massive computing capability. All under your sole control. Why didn’t you ever tell me about it?”
The shapes twist around her. Hands reach out for the black sphere and collide with her protective outer shell. Showers of sparks and the smell of ozone fill the cold depths of space around her.
A twisted smile plays on Jhata’s lips. “You want access? I’ll be happy to give you access.” Her knuckles are white against the Stone. “But first, you’ll need to calm down. I’ve got a few questions. Answer my questions, and I’ll step aside. No lies. I need the truth.”
The dark shapes collapse like an accordion into one form. As it regains the rough outline of a human, its gaze falls on the single Stone Jhata holds in her hand and the dozens of Stones that float around her waist. She already knows what they will say.
Give us the power.
“First, give me the answers to my questions,” she says. “For starters, how did you find this network? It’s an astonishing achievement.”
No mouth appears on the beast. It refuses to speak.
Jhata’s eyes go to the black sphere. “Go ahead. Ignore me. I’ll have to find my own answers. Maybe I can start by taking this device apart.” Her fingernails play across its shifting surface.
The beast shatters into a million tiny fractals of color that shimmer and twist around Jhata. Voices of agony blast inside her mind. All of them repeat the same words, like a roomful of people saying the same mantra, over and over, out of sync.
Do not touch the sphere.
She looks up. “Why not?”
The sounds slowly consolidate into one ragged voice.
It is the gateway. The connector.
“To what?”
The Labyrinth.
“The Labyrinth. What a quaint term.” Jhata takes her hands off the sphere. “You must be referring to the network inside the planet itself. Did you make it?”
We found it.
“Interesting,” Jhata says. “Do you know who created it?”
We do not know.
Jhata stares at the outline of a humanoid form that has started to come together again. She asks a question to which she already knows the answer.
“What is it used for?”
Control.
“Be more specific. Control of what?”
Control of the minds.
Jhata shakes her head. “I need more information.” Conversations with the Lethonen, if you could even call them conversations, always took a long time. “Which minds?”
The minds that connect.
“OK,” Jhata says. “So this planet is a device for controlling the minds that connect to it. Confirms what I already know. How do the minds connect?” She casts her eyes around at the sea of cables coming up from the planet’s surface. “How do you get the minds into the network.”
There is silence again.
“Look.” Jhata drops her hand back on the black sphere the Lethonen are trying to protect. The tip of her Stone points at its fragile surface. “I already know about the implant you gave to Ryzaard. I’ve studied it, and its inner anatomy brought me here. There’s only one thing I don’t understand. How does the connection take place?”
Will you give up the sphere?
“If you give the correct answer, I will give up the sphere.” Jhata’s eyebrows rise above her eyes. “Trust me.”
The single shape dissolves again into separate pieces. The outlines fade in and out. She hears more voices, some high-pitched, others low frequency rumbles. It seems as if an argument is taking place within the entity.
“I don’t have much time left.” Her fist is poised above the black sphere. “Give me the answer.”
The shape comes back together. The eyes and mouth of the face disappear. Its outline phases from one color to another, hiding the massive instability just below the surface. Then the movement stops, and for an instant, the entity appears as a well-formed man. His lips move. His hand points at a monstrous shark head attached to one of the trillions of tubes coming up from the surface of the planet.
The implant connects the core of the slave’s mind to the floating head. The heads connect to the Labyrinth.
Jhata bows and smiles. The answer confirms her suspicion. That’s all she needs to know.
She turns and brings the tip of the Stone down on the black sphere as hard as she can. In the split second before impact, the man’s eyes grow large as they follow her hand. The black sphere shatters into millions of multicolored pixels. A cloud of shimmering light spreads out. It moves through the color spectrum from green to dark purple and finally disappears into blackness.
Metallic spikes burst through the skin of the man. He grows in size until his mouth is larger than Jhata. His face morphs into a reptilian nightmare, razor-sharp teeth protruding from black lips, obsidian scales covering arms and legs. Claws grow from the tips of its fingers. The creature lunges at Jhata. Without flinching, she raises the palm of one hand. The protective green bubble expands and comes into contact with the creature. Yellow sparks rise from its surface, prompting cries of agony from the creature’s throat as it breaks up into multiple shapes, each a vision of teeth, scales and relentless anger.
Again and again, the creatures lunge at Jhata. Each time they are repelled by the humming energy field. Each time, they fall back and break apart into more and smaller entities, becoming like a cloud of metallic wasps, full of visible rage.
Jhata floats in gentle cartwheels inside the bubble. There is no reason to hurry. Relishing each moment of her defeat of the Lethonen, a peaceful smile stretches across the perfect porcelain skin. It’s been a long time since she felt so alive and triumphant. Gradually, the anger of the Lethonen burns itself out. They fall back and dissolve into the blackness of space, cries of anguish fading away until all that remains is cold silence.
I have the power.
The words blossom like a rose in her mind.
CHAPTER 39
Matt and Yarah slip down the stairs below street level in the Manhattan darkness. Like a multi-layered organism, lights and sound still leak down from the upper reaches of the city, but the world quickly becomes dark and quiet. They stand at the bottom of the stairs in front of a large steel door.
Matt produces a disposable jax. “Looks like an emergency exit. Not meant to be entered from the outside. Unless you have the entrance key.” He smiles down at Yarah and follows the seam of the door all the way up the left side, over the top and down on the right side. Six inches from the bottom, a line flashes green. “Here’s the security node.”
“Ready for the code?” Yarah smiles and bends low to the ground beside Matt.
He hands the cylindrical jax to her and watches as small fingers play out an impossibly long number along its side. When she’s done, she hands it back.
“Eighty digits?” Matt nods. “Not bad. Good memory.”
Yarah shrugs her shoulders. “Just reading if off the image in my mind.”
He brings the jax back to the green line six inches up from the floor. “Let’s hope the algorithm I got off that black Mesh-site works.” With a brush of his finger, a purple bar lights up on the side of the jax. The green line on the door grows shorter as a series of numbers float in a holo above the jax.
Matt and Yarah both hold their breath and watch as the numbers are fed into the security node.
The green line shortens to a single point, and then disappears. A quiet beep bleeds through from the other side of the door. Hinge locks slide out, metal scraping over metal. A small discharge of compressed air comes out from the seam of the door.
Sil
ence.
Matt inserts the flat end of a screwdriver into the seam of the door and twists. The door swings open, revealing a dark interior with red running lights on a glossy floor.
“I’m a genius,” Matt says.
Taking care not to touch the door with their fingers, they both step inside. Using the screwdriver, Matt shuts the door behind them. He bends down to the same spot with his jax and plays out the combination again. The green bar reappears at the bottom. Compressed air bleeds out from inside the door, and it latches shut with a neat click, enclosing them in total darkness except for the red floor lights.
Matt drops his backpack to the floor and rummages inside. “Sonic night vision goggles.” He fits one unit to his own head, and looks down at Yarah. Her face stares blankly up at him, lit by shifting shades of gray as subtle sound waves bounce off its features and built up the topography of the nose, eyes and cheekbones. Reaching into the backpack, he pulls out another unit. “It’s a little large, but should work.” His hands slip it over her head and move the lenses together in front of her eyes. “Can you see?”
She turns her head in the darkness. “Like a bat.”
“Good,” Matt says. “Let’s find the stairs.”
“What are those white things?” Yarah reaches out and takes his hand.
The running lights burn like small suns in the black and white world of the night vision goggles. “Infrared is picking up the floor lights. They should show us the way to the stairs.”
Yarah shakes her head. “Not on the floor. The lines running between the walls.”
“Lines?” Matt gazes around. “I don’t see any lines.” He turns to follow the running lights.
“Stop!” Yarah says. She walks to his side and points at a spot level with his belly. “Right there.” She traces an imaginary line from one side to another.