Convergence

by Marita Smith

  “But …” interrupted Derek.

  Catherine whirled to face him, eyes gleaming. “I said no, Derek.”

  Robyn’s heart pounded as they both turned to her. This distance thing really wasn’t working.

  “What if I bond with a snail?” she stammered.

  27

  Action Stations

  “You know, when I said I wanted to help, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.” Sara slapped her pen down on the kitchen counter with a sigh.

  The doors swung shut behind Robyn as she darted inside. “Sorry,” she mouthed at Kara, who leaned against the stove. The kettle panted as it psyched itself up.

  “Yeah, I can’t believe we still have to study. Aren’t there like, exemptions for extenuating circumstances?” added Jacob. Robyn glanced from one to the other, unsurprised to hear Jacob backing Sara up – he shadowed Sara everywhere like a sidekick. She’d never seen them apart during the day. Jacob looked different – slimmer, Robyn realised. Evidence of Derek’s afternoon training sessions. What had surprised her was Derek taking the initiative to work with the convergers. She’d watched them run circuits one afternoon, Derek jogging behind the others with Jacob. It was her first glimpse of what he must be like with Damian.

  Still, Robyn didn’t envy the convergers as they ran laps through the forest in the twilight, though they seemed to thrive on it. They were all getting stronger. Terence and Catherine could never seem to cook enough for them.

  The kettle screamed and Robyn turned back to it. It was funny how quickly something could become normal. Ariana had been gone for less than two weeks. Robyn sipped her tea as she picked up the assignment Sara had abandoned. “Algebra?”

  “Maths is hard enough with numbers. Why do they have to go and throw letters into the mix?”

  Robyn laughed. “Good point.”

  Kara glared at her. “You guys know the drill. Schoolwork first, then free time.” She mumbled something under her breath.

  “What was that?” said Sara sweetly.

  “Nothing,” Kara grumbled.

  The doors burst open and Eli and Fletcher raced in. “Blood delivery,” Fletcher explained. Eva clambered behind the counter and curled up on the floor with a humph.

  “That’s my cue,” Robyn said, skirting around the bear.

  Catherine signed the docket, flashing her teeth at the delivery guy who practically quaked at the knees. Robyn ignored him and flipped the Styrofoam lid. Cool air assaulted her. Another five hundred crimson vials from the international blood bank. How many would they have time to analyse before the end of the world as we know it? Nine months away. Robyn closed the lid with a sigh. She’d been reading herself to sleep now that Ariana was training with Atlantis – not a mythical city, but a spirit in the physical form of a whale. Maybe all legends had roots in reality. She’d pored through the books Kate had dug up on animal spirits. Every ancient culture had their own system. Animals were always revered, had always been part of the struggle between light and dark. Maybe the boundaries between humans and animals had always been fluid. She couldn’t shrug away the feeling that she was missing something, something big.

  “What is it?” Catherine asked.

  Robyn shook her head. “Nothing. Let’s get back to work.” She couldn’t explain it, and Catherine would just think she was crazy.

  Catherine frowned and turned back to the cooler. It had been stiff and clunky between them since … since the incident. Catherine hadn’t invited Robyn back to her bed. In fact, she’d been downright icy. Robyn wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing after all. Maybe Kara was wrong about Catherine. And Derek.

  Robyn watched Catherine unload the cooler and fill the lab fridge. It was a full-time job running analyses. They all had their niches. Catherine and Terence were the live-in chefs; she and Derek copped laundry duty; and Kate and Kara mixed tutoring with MRI surveillance. A happy little disjointed family.

  Robyn grabbed the first rack and headed for the centrifuge. Every minute counted. She’d have time to deal with feelings later.

  Ariana moved her arms in what felt like a perfect mimic of the form Atlantis had shown her. The complex movements reminded her of a fast series of Tai Chi poses. Below, the abyss seemed to scream as she hovered just beyond the continental shelf.

  She brought her arms back to her sides, staring at the floating plastic bottle. Nothing happened. It just bobbed there, taunting her.

  The solemn dark whale tipped her head, the barnacles encrusted on her side catching the light.

  Close. You need to calm your mind. Try once more.

  A flipper grazed her forehead and Ariana felt the familiar jolt of energy as the spirit flashed memories into her mind. Ariana sighed in frustration. She thought she had been doing what the whale was showing her.

  Again.

  The dolphin pod kept a respectful distance, though Ariana knew they were there. She felt blood rush to her neck. This was worse than public speaking. Jericho skimmed across the surface of her mind.

  We can do this; I know we’ve done it before.

  Well, apparently it wasn’t like riding a bicycle. There didn’t seem to be any muscle memory in her limbs. Ariana took another deep breath, sucking oxygen through her gills. Calm, she had to be calm. It was hard to be relaxed when you were very much aware of how poorly you were doing. The ocean was silent around her as Ariana replayed the memory the whale had transferred to her, all shiny and hopeful.

  Ariana raised her arms again and focused completely on the rubbish floating in front of her eyes. It was disgusting, one of those ubiquitous cheap plastic water bottles with a sun-bleached label still gummed on. It made her angry imagining whoever had thrown it into a gutter or left it lying on the sand.

  I was as if someone had shoved a mirror between her and the bottle. Her mind froze. Disposable stuff in non-disposable containers. It was beyond stupid the bottle even existed at all. Foolhardy, her mother would have said. Ariana brought her arms down into the final pose and the bottle disappeared into a froth of bubbles. She blinked in disbelief, staring down at her hands. The dolphins chattered around her and Atlantis bobbed her head in acknowledgment.

  Where did it go? Ariana blinked at the empty space where the bottle had been.

  Released back to their natural cycles. Freed.

  Robyn had called it elemental transformation when Ariana had tried to describe the process over the radio. Separating carbon from hydrogen and oxygen. “If you could break down complex compounds, you could accelerate recycling everywhere. You could get rid of stuff that takes generations to break down,” Robin had said in a rush.

  Ariana held her hands up in front of her eyes. Blue light arced between them, snaked up her arms.

  Freed.

  The sea had its own melody, an interwoven keening song that built from the depths. Sound oscillated in a perpetual eerie soundtrack that seemed to sneak up on you. There were CDs with ocean noises, meant to calm you, but they were nothing like this. They’d played one in the hospital after her mother’s accident. Val would have loved this true, ancient sound. Ariana’s eyes pricked knowing she’d never hear it. Her mother’s absence still caught her by surprise. She wondered if it happened to Terence, too, or if he wore it like a weighted vest all the time. She ran her fingers along the radio sewn into her wetsuit and screwed her eyes shut. The dreams had changed. Suspended in seaweed tethered to the reef, her mind drifted beyond her physical body, memories mingling with the ocean’s song. Vivid flashes of a turtle wreathed in blue light, a boy grinning by its side. The boy felt familiar, even though she was sure she’d never met him. Her dreams kept filling with people, different animals, all with her distinctive glow. Spirit energy.

  You have lived many lives, walker. You dream of the past walkers, who lived in a world less burdened by humans. Atlantis’ voice filled her head.

  How can I r
emember them?

  Patience.

  It didn’t stop the dreams.

  28

  Revelations

  Eli sat cross-legged on the closely cropped grass. The sounds of munching echoed around him as a group of kangaroos continued to graze, no longer frightened by his rigid presence. Fletcher would be able to reach out to them, but their voices were silent to him. A cloud of forager bees swirled in the air above, laden with pollen and nectar, homebound. Emptying his mind of their swirling melody, Eli slipped over into the spirit realm. The kangaroos moved in closer.

  Lenti was leaning against a tree in the grove, eyes closed.

  “Do you ever leave this place?” Eli asked.

  Lenti opened one eye. “I know how to get around when I’m needed.” He shut his eye.

  The monk didn’t look any older than he did. Eli realised he didn’t really know anything about their spirit world guide.

  “Lenti.” Eli sat down across from the monk, not sure how to frame his question. “The air spirit, Notos, where can I find him?”

  Lenti frowned. “I’m not sure.”

  Eli’s stomach plummeted. “What do you mean you’re not sure? He’s somewhere, like Atlantis. You said so. I need to find him, Lenti. I need to figure out what I’m supposed to do.” He was going stir-crazy, despite the best intentions of Robyn and the others. Knowing Ariana was out there, doing something, was like a dagger in his ribs.

  “How long have you been the guide for the walkers?”

  Lenti opened both eyes. “What makes you say that?” He crossed his arms, defensive.

  “How can you not know?”

  “Well, if you must know, it was kind of an accident.”

  “What do you mean, an accident? You’re the guide.” Eli stretched his arms overhead in frustration.

  “So, the thing is,” Lenti began, looking at his feet. “I was never meant to be.”

  Thousands of red-rimmed vials. Thousands. Robyn was tired at a cellular level but at the same time brimming with energy. It was troubling, but she had no time to assess the strange dichotomy. There was work to do. Lab, eat, sleep. Repeat.

  Robyn straightened and her back creaked in protest, posture shot to hell. She could be Quasimodo, except she couldn’t sing to save herself and none of this could be resolved in a nice Disney montage. It was a race, and they couldn’t stop the clock – against Fang or the sun.

  Someone had placed a mug of tea by her shoulder. Robyn took a tentative sip. Cold. She didn’t need to look in a mirror to know her eyes were sunken, weighed down with dark shadows. They’d all turned into zombies; no, vampires maybe, with all this blood. She gripped the mug of Earl Grey, staring into the middle distance as Derek shuffled between piles of cultures. A huge Jenga stack of petri dishes. Terence sat behind the tower, shuttling genes into viruses. A shiver ran up her aching spine. Guinea pigs. She and Terence would be the first to feel the sting of the needle.

  “One hundred. We’ve got a hundred positives so far,” Terence announced at dinner that night.

  It didn’t feel like a large number. The vials had all blurred into one another, but she’d handled so many. Delivery after delivery, Catherine’s smile contracting as she signed each new docket.

  Surely we’ve found more than that.

  Robyn pushed her pasta from one side of the plate to the other, leaving a trail of pesto.

  “I’ve run some simulations to extrapolate numbers in the wider population.”

  Robyn looked up. Terence had Catherine and Derek’s full attention.

  “Three hundred people.”

  “In total?” queried Catherine.

  Terence nodded. “From seven billion people on the planet.”

  Three hundred people capable of converging their consciousnesses with animals. Maybe a hundred positives wasn’t so terrible.

  “So few,” Robyn found herself mumbling.

  Terence pushed away from the counter. “And luckily enough, we have two right here.” Robyn almost didn’t register the two syringes on the stainless-steel surface as Terence rolled up his sleeve. Their tips seem to glint with menace.

  “Wait. You’ve got the vector?” Robyn’s voice was steady, but her mind reeled. She wasn’t ready; she didn’t think she’d ever be ready.

  “Just finished it this afternoon,” said Terence.

  Derek’s grip was firm but gentle as he brought the needle to her arm. Robyn looked away. She’d never been able to watch, fainting at the doctor’s surgery after six vials on no breakfast. That was before she got better.

  “There.” Derek stuck a plaster on her arm and rubbed his thumb across it.

  “That’s it?” Robyn croaked. Derek moved to Terence, and Robyn averted her gaze as the needle slid home.

  “That’s it,” echoed Derek. Terence’s eyes were wide. Robyn wondered if she looked just as scared. Probably more so.

  Catherine reached out for her plate and sent her a lingering look of disapproval as she saw the crusted pesto trail.

  “I’m not hungry now,” Robyn said, and it was the truth. The familiar beep of the washing machine rescued her.

  Robyn felt woozy as she pulled sheets from the machine straight into the dryer.

  “Here, let me.” Derek wrestled the heavy twisted mass for her.

  “Thanks.” Robyn hadn’t heard him follow her. Clinks carried down the hallway as Terence loaded the dishwasher. She heard Catherine laugh at something he said.

  Spots flickered at the edges of her vision. “Derek?”

  “Hey, I’m here.” Aniseed engulfed Robyn, rich and earthy. The scent made her head swim. Red, green, blue. The jets of light played under her eyelids when she squeezed them shut. Robyn reached out an arm, meaning just to steady herself until the heady feeling passed, but Derek leaned forward, cupping her neck. A hand curled into her hip bone. Electricity rocketed down her spine and ignited in the pit of her stomach.

  “Robyn.” She could see his dark eyelashes, his pupils darting from side to side. Her body betrayed her, sinking into the arms that rose to encircle her waist. Everything was spinning.

  “Derek, I need to lie down. I feel –”

  Derek’s lips were soft and exploratory, but Robyn’s mind was numb and floating. It was as if she were watching the kiss happen to somebody else. A mild current zipped along her limbs and she rushed back to herself, pulling away from Derek’s grip. There was a brightness behind her eyes, a high-pitched whine building in her ears. How can Derek not hear it?

  The last thing she remembered was Derek’s concerned face as the edges of her vision blurred and faded to black.

  “What do you mean, you were never meant to be?” Eli stared at Lenti. “You told us you were the guide, that you knew what we had to do.” Anger tinged his words. It felt like a betrayal.

  “You don’t understand.” Lenti rocked backward and forward, hands on his knees, a blank expression on his face.

  “There’s a lot I apparently don’t understand,” said Eli.

  “I was only an acolyte-in-training when Nyx broke free of her earthly bonds. I had only just started learning the lineages. Earth, air, water. Hundreds of you.” Lenti looked past Eli into dead air.

  “Nyx. She’s escaped before?” Eli almost jumped to his feet. “Then how did you trap her last time? We can just do that again!”

  Lenti shook his head. “I’m not sure how Liro managed to do it.”

  “Liro?”

  “The true guide.” Lenti leaned forward and pressed his hand to Eli’s temple.

  Eli closed his eyes at the rush of blinding white light. It felt like someone had kicked him in the gut and stripped the air from his lungs. When he opened his eyes, wheezing, he found himself standing in the ruins of a temple. Three walls covered in sparkling mosaics barely supported a thin, crumbling roof. Eli frowned, taking a ste
p closer to the walls. Big scooping lines connected mosaic figures that were surrounded by red, green and blue tiles. Walkers, he realised in a rush, past walkers. Eli traced a hand along the vein of red. Some of the missing spaces were deliberate, as if awaiting the birth of new walkers that never came. His fingers skimmed the rough edges of the tiles, following the lines that kept dancing across the walls, spiralling toward three figures. Something about them was so familiar …

  “Blessings from the sea, the air and the earth.”

  Eli whirled around at the voice. A wiry man in orange robes sat in the centre of the temple. Eli blinked. He hadn’t been there a second ago.

  “We keep the old ways.” The man spoke without opening his eyes.

  Eli sank to his knees in front of the monk. “Please, how can we stop Nyx?”

  The monk opened his eyes, and a vertical shaft of light flared over his right eye. He reached out an arm to Eli, and the familiar wrenching sensation took over. When Eli opened his eyes, he was back in the spirit grove with Lenti.

  “What was that?” Eli demanded. If I’d only had one more minute …

  “Liro. The true guide. My mentor.”

  “He can … he can use the spirit energy.”

  Lenti nodded.

  “What happened to him? The temple?”

  “He died,” Lenti said, his voice hoarse. “He stopped Nyx, but he died doing it. I thought, long ago, that the true guide would return. But he hasn’t. You’re stuck with me.” He hung his head. “I hope you can forgive me.”

  Eli sighed. “Why didn’t you just tell us?”

  “I’ve told you everything I know, but it’s not enough. You saw the walls of the temple.”

  Eli nodded. The three figures at the end of the spiralling lines.

  Lenti’s eyes were wide. “I think … I think you three might be the last. I fear that whatever you do won’t make a difference. That Nyx will rise and everything will be destroyed.”