Convergence

by Marita Smith

  29

  Transformation

  Robyn registered liquid being brought to her lips; she drank, then everything faded back into darkness. Her skin burned. Nightmares skittered across her fevered consciousness as the glacial cycles continued – a metamorphosis. Fragments of memory washed over her, of dark energy mixing with light in an eternal dance. She saw Fletcher, Ariana and Eli hovering in black, empty space, their eyes closed, hands splayed in their laps. But it was like wading through molasses; she couldn’t seem to get any closer. Ariana’s eyes flickered open. “We’ve been waiting for you.” Her voice was layered, tiered with hundreds of unique inflections. But Robyn was already falling, slipping away.

  The room was bright. Robyn cleared her dry throat with a cough and flicked her tongue over chapped lips.

  “Robyn?”

  Robyn peered down at the blankets. She was in bed, on the bottom bunk. Catherine’s bed.

  “Catherine, what happened?” Robyn’s head felt dull, her limbs lethargic and heavy as if waking up from hibernation.

  Catherine’s eyes were wide and filled with worry when she knelt by Robyn’s bedside.

  “You’re okay.” Catherine twisted her hands together.

  Robyn nodded and the room teetered around her. “Catherine?” She loaded all of her questions into the name; a big snowball, rolling downhill, gaining momentum.

  “You were out for three days, Robyn. Three days.”

  Robyn registered the rumpled cardigan on Catherine’s shoulders, her red eyes. Had she been crying? Robyn had never seen Catherine look so vulnerable before.

  Robyn shuffled to a sitting position. Catherine’s hand grasped her own, thumb stroking the back of her hand. It felt nice, some part of Robyn’s mind registered, but it was as if it were happening to another person, not Robyn. She still felt like there was something she should be able to remember.

  “Terence?” Robyn swallowed the lump in her throat as Catherine raised her eyes to hers. She had definitely been crying. Fresh tears trickled down Catherine’s cheeks.

  “He … he didn’t make it. Robyn, Terence is gone.”

  They buried Terence at the farm in the clearing by the stream. Derek and Catherine took turns with the shovel while Robyn sat next to the wrapped body. She hadn’t cried. Somehow she’d stayed calm on the drive. The trees had flashed by in a blur as Derek had driven them home. No, to her home. Terence would always be part of it now.

  It took nearly an hour to dig the grave; the swish of the shovels like a metronome. Catherine paused to throw a look over her shoulder as she wiped sweat from her forehead, but Robyn didn’t look up. She’d never seen a dead person before, much less kept one company. Terence’s face looked calm, eyes drawn closed under his glasses. The striped button-down shirt clung to exposed collarbones. Robyn leaned down to kiss his forehead.

  “I’m sorry, Terence.” She didn’t know why the vector had claimed him and not her. She only knew that it felt like she’d lost a brother.

  The air was heavy and cloying as Derek lifted Terence’s body like a baby, slung between outstretched arms. It was exactly how she imagined Derek had carried her to bed that night she fell asleep at the computer, except Terence’s body was rigid, hair flopping over his face. He wasn’t asleep.

  Robyn didn’t get up. She stayed with Terence’s ghost as Catherine and Derek returned soil to the trench. The thud as dirt hit flesh was unbearable. It was impossible to trick her mind into thinking it was anything other than what it was. Robyn looked upward, imagining Terence’s spirit rising into the air, dispersing across the sky. The autumn colours splayed across the trees seemed more vibrant somehow; the air was crisp and laced with scent trails. She was not sure if it was just her body stubbornly clinging to life or something more. She traced the ridged, puckered line across her eyelid that throbbed under her fingers. The blanket on her shoulders felt like a lead weight.

  Everything was different now.

  “Robyn, you need to eat something.”

  Catherine’s voice seemed to come from far away. Robyn blinked, curling a fist in her blankets. She was back in bed, though she couldn’t remember getting there. The bowl of soup on the bedside table sent tantalising steam trails toward her, but she couldn’t eat when Terence had gone and it could just as easily have been her. She just couldn’t.

  “Please, Robyn, for me.” Catherine’s eyes were raw from crying. She held the spoon like a peace offering on an outstretched palm. Dirt rimmed her fingernails.

  They had made a cairn of rocks above the disturbed earth. When Ariana came back, she’d be able to visit him.

  “We need to tell Ariana.” Robyn choked out each syllable.

  The spoon wobbled and Catherine’s hand retracted.

  “I … I don’t know how.” Catherine wrapped her arms around herself, spoon splayed against her chest. “This was never supposed to happen,” she whispered.

  Robyn closed her eyes. The broth made her mouth water. She pushed herself up into a sitting position and reached out a hand. Her head spun like it used to, and the memory filled her with hatred – a past self locked into a dangerous straddling of hunger and despair. She wasn’t that girl anymore.

  “I think I’ll have some soup.”

  Catherine nodded and handed her the warm spoon. The food stopped the carousel in her skull; Robyn drained the bowl and pushed it aside.

  “Thank you.” Robyn fiddled with her sleeve. It didn’t seem strange somehow, the words that spilled from her mouth. “Catherine, could you … stay with me?”

  Catherine nodded, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “Of course.” There was no trace of a smirk.

  Sleep came easily cradled in Catherine’s arms.

  Fletcher sank into the soft grass. Eli sat unmoving on his right, eyes closed, Una rigid on his shoulder. They could have been statues. Part of him wished that he was anywhere but here. That none of this had ever happened; that he was still trying for first string on the basketball team, fishing on the weekends and reading his calculus textbook. Normal stuff. But then he never would have met Ariana.

  Fletcher rubbed his eyes. The truck had crunched back up the driveway over an hour ago; Derek had carried Robyn back to bed. Catherine had kept them all away, but even from a distance he could tell Robyn was weak. He couldn’t lose her too. How could everything have gone so wrong? He’d never thought Terence … never thought they’d lose someone here. This was supposed to be safe. They were all supposed to be safe.

  Fletcher watched Eli’s chest rise and fall. How could he go in there and talk to Ariana as if nothing had happened? Eli had made him promise. For now, he’d said, just until we know what’s happening.

  The vector hadn’t worked. It had killed Terence, and Robyn was sick. Tears escaped his clamped eyelids. What was the point? If the adults couldn’t make it work, what chance did they have?

  Eli was pacing, deep in thought, when Fletcher materialised in the glade. Eva humphed and collapsed onto her haunches.

  “Fletcher.” Eli stopped. His eyes were clouded, and red light skittered across his torso.

  “What is it?” Fletcher asked.

  “Everything,” Eli sighed. “Lenti doesn’t know how we can stop this spirit, and I don’t know how to find the air spirit, Notos.” Eli grunted and flopped onto his back. “It’s all so insane. How can we fight something that ripped the two worlds apart in the first place?”

  Fletcher opened his mouth to reply, but a blue flash filled the clearing and Ariana materialised. She beamed at them. Fletcher gaped back at her.

  “Hey,” she said, waving in an exaggerated arc. “Earth to Eli and Fletcher.”

  The blue light clung to Ariana’s skin, not dissipating as it usually did. Fletcher circled her.

  “How long have you been in the sea?” Ariana looked so vibrant, so alive, it made his chest hurt. He thought his ri
bcage might explode if he looked at her for too long.

  Ariana rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should be asking you how long you’ve been in the forest, if you know what I mean. Am I right, Eli?”

  When Eli didn’t reply, Ariana’s grin evaporated. “What’s up?” she said, dropping to the ground next to Eli. She shook her head, and the light clinging to her faded. She shrugged at Fletcher’s stare and tickled Eli in the ribs.

  Eli pushed her away and sat up.

  “I feel like an idiot,” Eli said, crossing his arms. “I’m pretty sure that we weren’t all called into the same generation for kicks. There’s something we can do that will stop Nyx, I’m sure of it. I’m going out of my mind trying to figure it out.”

  “I’m sure my brother and the others have worked something out by now. Lenti said –”

  “Lenti said this, Lenti said that.” Eli kicked at the grass. “He doesn’t have a clue either.”

  My brother. Fletcher sat down, not trusting his legs to support him. Ariana deserved to know.

  “We miss you,” he said.

  Ariana turned to face him, eyes full of concern. “Fletch? What’s up?”

  Fletcher choked back a sob and tore his gaze from her face. “Nothing.”

  Ariana clicked her fingers in sudden remembrance. “Hey, can you guys tell Robyn and the gang that I’m headed up to the Great Barrier Reef? There’s been an oil spill, a big one. I’m going to go see what I can do. My radio’s all gummed up.”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Fletcher, are you sure everything’s all right?”

  Fletcher didn’t trust his voice enough to reply. He was about to shake his head when Eli pushed himself up and grabbed Fletcher’s arm. The ground teetered under his feet as Eli dragged him back to consciousness in the physical world.

  “Why’d you do that?” Fletcher snarled, getting to his feet. He slapped Eli’s hand away.

  “You were going to tell her.”

  “She deserves to know!” Fletcher almost screamed. Thick, angry tears coated his cheeks. Nothing made sense anymore; the whole world had turned upside down. He’d always had things mapped out for him. School, basketball training, maybe college. All he had to do was turn up and play his part in the script. But now? There was no script. There was only a black gaping hole of uncertainty. Deep down, he didn’t know if he could handle it.

  “There’s nothing she can do about it, and we can’t interrupt her training,” said Eli. “Can’t you see? She’s the only one of us making any progress, Fletcher. She might be our only chance now everything’s shot to hell. We can’t risk it.”

  Fletcher raked a sleeve across his face and stormed inside.

  Derek sat alone at the kitchen counter, staring at a mug of coffee and his phone. Fletcher wrinkled his nose at the bitter smell.

  “I wish you had let us come with you.” The words tumbled out in an angry rush, but Derek didn’t even flinch. Fletcher stared at the back of his head, willing Derek to get up, to do something.

  Derek shook his head. “It wouldn’t have helped anyone. I don’t want you to remember Terence like that. None of us do.” He sighed. “Have you been in touch with Ariana? Is she okay?”

  A murky reflection of a boy watched Fletcher from the stainless-steel counter. He didn’t recognise the face.

  “Yeah,” Fletcher said. “She’s going to the Great Barrier Reef for a few days. We didn’t tell her,” he added. “Though I still think we should have.”

  Derek took a slurp of coffee, banged the mug down hard. He picked up the phone and squeezed it in his palm. “Catherine wants to destroy the vector.” Derek lifted the phone up and down as if he were weighing it against something. His other hand remained clenched on the counter.

  Fletcher studied Derek’s fist. Of course they had to destroy it. Robyn had barely survived – comatose for three days and still delirious. Mumbling about light and dark, her shrill wails echoing down the corridor as Fletcher tried in vain to sleep.

  But Fletcher said nothing.

  Derek pushed the mug away. “I’m going to go check on Robyn.”

  30

  Betrayal

  It took an effort to will her eyes open. Light filled the room and Robyn squinted as her eyes adjusted. She smiled as everything came into focus. She was facing Catherine, their foreheads nearly touching. Catherine’s face was slack and calm with sleep, blonde hair mussed up on the pillow. Robyn couldn’t help drinking it all in. The familiar urge to reach out and run her fingers along Catherine’s side surfaced and she forced it back. Robyn edged away, curling the sheets above her knees, but Catherine’s arm shot out and grabbed her hip.

  “Nooo,” Catherine drawled, eyes fluttering. “You’re not going anywhere.”

  Her voice sent a rush of heat to Robyn’s stomach and she shivered. Catherine flailed around with her other hand until the blankets were drawn back up over them. Robyn chuckled into the pillow. Catherine must have felt the vibrations because she lifted her head.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “Everything.” Robyn couldn’t stop laughing; maybe it was better than crying.

  Catherine laced her fingers through Robyn’s hand and clutched it between them.

  “I’m glad you’re okay. For a moment back there, you had me worried …” Catherine’s voice wavered.

  Robyn squeezed Catherine’s hand. “Thanks. For looking after me.”

  The air smelled like Catherine, rose geranium and buckwheat flour. The dust motes above them swirled in crisp definition. Robyn felt different. Energy buzzed through her limbs.

  A familiar cough at the doorway interrupted her thoughts.

  “Robyn?”

  Derek. The memory descended like a sheet of ice cleft from an iceberg. Derek’s arms around her waist in the laundry room, the colours behind her eyelids. Red, green, blue.

  Catherine shifted and Robyn registered the hurt on Derek’s face, like a Greek tragedy mask come to life. “Derek, what are you –”

  But Derek had already disappeared down the corridor.

  By the time Robyn pulled on shoes and a jumper, Derek had disappeared. “Kitchen?”

  “Nothing.” Catherine left the doors swinging as she pounded out onto the patio. “Not outside, either.”

  Fletcher followed them into the hallway, relief plastered all over his face. “Robyn?”

  I’m fine, Robyn wanted to shout, but there wasn’t time. She pushed past him and raced through the lab, heart skidding in her chest. She felt faster, as if her legs had developed new muscle. Energy surged through her limbs as she burst out into the sunlight.

  The truck was gone. A shiny oil spot glistened on the bitumen; Robyn could smell the lingering exhaust fumes. Catherine skidded to a stop by her side.

  “Where would he go?” The chain link fence rattled in the wind as Robyn gazed down the deserted bitumen road.

  “Robyn.” Catherine’s voice caught. “The vector – it’s gone.”

  “What do you mean, gone?”

  “Derek. He’s taken it.”

  The list was her golden ticket, but combined with Derek, Vulcan would have no choice but to listen to her. Fang sipped her latte and rolled her shoulders. He was handsome, dark skin shifting in the light over muscled shoulders. An unexpected surge of camaraderie washed over her as she appraised him. It couldn’t have been easy having Vulcan as a supervisor – she wasn’t sure how he’d managed to last this long without ripping his hair out. Overcoming her pride and contacting Derek had been difficult but clearly worth it.

  The vial cupped between his thumb and forefinger glistened in the sun. It held the promise of redemption.

  “You’ve made the right choice, Derek. The only choice.”

  Derek nodded, sliding the vial back into the rack with its cousins. “Here it is.”

  It took all of her s
trength to stop herself from surging forward. Instead, she waited until Derek slid the rack over. Fang swept a hand across it, listening to the xylophone-like tinkling of the glass. Harsh sun beat down against the back of her neck. It had been a long time since she’d seen so much clear sky. Brisbane was paradise compared to the choked haze of Beijing.

  “The girl, Ariana.” The last part of the deal. The girl with the dragon, Fang felt it. The flicker of blue light across her skin could very well mean she was the last one from Miranda’s photo. Maybe Fang could still work out what it was Miranda had intended.

  The keys rattled in Derek’s hand as he pushed his chair back. “Let’s go.”

  31

  Changes

  It’s wrong, all wrong. The black blood coated the reef, choking it. Screams of pain fired through her synapses. Where there should have been grandiose palaces of bright coral and undulating seaweed, there was a thick sheen of oil. Ariana hadn’t been able to ignore it, had been pulled here as if by magnetism, riding flush on Atlantis’ back.

  The Great Barrier Reef needed her.

  Her arms ached as the energy coursed through her veins, the lack of oxygen in the water making her dizzy. It was harder, much harder than the floating islands of plastic debris they’d been working on. Even that had left her muscles cramped and weak. The oil seemed to twitch and jerk out of reach like a living thing, and Atlantis was way beyond the edge of the continental shelf, too big to enter the reef. The spirit hummed with her, and Ariana’s limbs thrummed with a translucent blue light, but it wasn’t enough.

  On the second day, Ariana breasted the surface, her wetsuit slick with oil. She struggled to breathe, heaving oxygen into her lungs. Her gills had clogged with the black death; she could feel them receding into her neck. Ariana coughed inky gunk as her breathing levelled. Panic surged through her.

  I have to get out. Keeping her head above the water, Ariana breast-stroked toward the beach, empty in the predawn. She crawled out of the ooze and collapsed on the sand, too tired to hear the footsteps crunching out of the forest.