And they were hungry.
The crowd murmured, some cried out and others looked away. But still others, like Angelica and Belgar and Shelby all watched in grim satisfaction as the insects had their fill. Efficient, fast, unyielding and brutal, they devoured Solomon like tender meat, saving nothing for leftovers, and cleaned the bones. Then they scattered up into the air and back under the tiles, leaving behind a bleached skeleton that tumbled upon itself and collapsed into a heap.
A lone insect remained, hovering, fluttering over the remains. A dragonfly, yellow and red. Engorged. It alighted on Solomon’s skull, cleaned its wings fastidiously, then darted off.
“It wasn’t me,” Mason repeated hollowly, this time to Gabriel who had staggered out of the crowd now, then stood still, frozen himself in shock and awe.
And for a moment, Mason saw it clearly again: the dragonfly, just as he has seen others just like it before, on his first day. That first morning down in the grove greeting him, and then again, here on the summit, when the insect had hovered around Solomon. Only now, Mason was sure it hadn’t appeared for Solomon at all, but for him. It was a sign, repeated now. And Mason knew, knew without any reservations, what his totem was to be.
But that could wait. Now …
The winds continued to blow and swirl, and the clouds continued their gradual retreat. Somewhere a bird was chirping, and somewhere the sun shone through, competing with the beauty of the scintillating aurora.
“He didn’t follow through with his sacrifice,” Gabriel said quietly, head down. “And was punished for it.” He gave a sideways glance to Mason, and the implication was there.
“Just as I was,” Mason said. “Although not as immediately.” Nature was patient with me, claiming its due much later.
Shelby squeezed his hand.
But Gabriel had other ideas. Scanning the ground, he found what he wanted, rushed forward and plucked the ivory blade from the ice shards and paused only to look into the empty eye sockets of Solomon’s skull. Then he put the blade to his own neck.
“The circle still demands blood, and it shall have it.”
“Gabriel, no!” Mason took a step, then stopped as Gabriel pressed the blade deeper, drawing a line of red. “No more sacrifices, no more blood.”
“I can’t escape it,” Gabriel insisted, looking up at the clouds, then down at the image of the cloud-riddled earth. “All this … everything that almost happened. My fault, I encouraged it. I wanted it. I would have reveled in the destruction of so many.…”
“Gabriel, we can sort it out. We can—”
“No, I’ll never forget. Never live past it. I almost killed you, Shelby … Mom …”
Mason lowered his head. But Shelby stepped closer, reaching out to her brother. “Don’t do it. I’ve only just found you again, Gabriel. And I have a feeling you and I—we’re going to be needed.”
He frowned at her.
“We’re twins,” she said. “And I’ve never felt complete unless you were at my side. Together, here at Solstice, we can do something real. Still accomplish something to save the world, but in our own way. Join me.…”
Gabriel’s eyes watered in anguish. He bit his lip, chewing it almost, but his hand didn’t waver. “I can’t.… Can’t ever forget. I—”
Suddenly, he froze in place, hand trembling, but lowering slightly. His eyes darted back and forth, and saw Angelica circling around, standing in front of him. Annabelle stepped forward and joined her, as did Belgar.
“No more blood,” Angelica said. “The Arch-Druid has spoken, and we agree.” She flashed a smile from Mason back to Gabriel. “And as for your memories. If you truly wish to forget, well … we can help with that.”
Gabriel blinked, tears spilling on his cheeks. He gave a look to his father, and Mason realized what they were proposing could work.
“I had it done,” Mason admitted. “And a pretty good job Palavar did on me. If you can do it,” he said to Angelica, “without being so invasive or all-encompassing …”
She smiled back. “Just a few bits here and there. Memory modification really, rather than eradication.” She cocked her head, as if peering into Gabriel’s mind. “He’s got all the right motives, just the means to achieve them … well, we can tweak what he remembers about his role. Make it much more passive. Nothing that will stand out in conflict with actual events, so the blocks should stay in place.”
Gabriel lowered the blade and let it fall. He reached out and took Shelby’s hand. “Do it, and let’s get on with our lives.”
“And go see our mother,” Shelby said. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
Mason exhaled and looked up, following the expanding aurora now as it stretched over the brightening sky, serving as a barrier of sorts to the clouds, sending them back and establishing dominance.
Chapter 12
Four days later, Mason finally had his chance to address the United Nations. The Assembly Hall had a makeshift ceiling, still very much a work in progress, and one that promised to be even more costly and beautiful, artistic and expensive at the same time. The lost delegates had been replaced, plaques to their memories suitably placed in prominent position marking their service and dedication. The mood was somber, yet bustling with activity. Press from all the major news stations were in attendance, and Mason had to sit through over two hours of updates from member countries.
There followed the litany of misery, the I-told-you-so’s from global warming alarmists, and a quick tally of the dead and missing, of the countless hundreds of billions in damage so far. The great screen behind the podium showed a collage of disaster sites, of floods and coastal cities leveled, of villages still burning with volcanoes smoking in the background, of forest fires still ablaze, valleys still flooded, farms with crops frozen under thick ice. Arctic glaciers cracked, but not melted, permafrost still holding over most of the area.
Third world countries were hit hard with the after-effects of disease and starvation, and their plight was all the more difficult since the industrial countries were dealing with their own widespread damage and reconstruction. Emergency funds were used up, and now charities were being funded from private institutions and organizations from around the world.
It was an amazing coming together of people joined in one common experience, one brutal and nearly fatal attack on the complacency so many had enjoyed for so long.
Whether or not it was enough to shake up the population and force behavioral changes was anyone’s guess. Teams of scientists spoke for and against the causes of all this meteorological mayhem, the opposing side winning some logic points stressing that no climate models assuming man-made carbon emissions, even at extreme levels, could have ever produced the kind of simultaneous global effects that had ravaged the world for over a week.
But all agreed that the world had, almost miraculously, been given a reprieve. Religious groups of all faiths banded together, insisting that God had spared them after coming close to re-enacting the Flood; others were extremely disappointed, believing the Rapture had at last been at hand, only to have deliverance snatched away at the last moment.
Mason endured it all, watching with impassive enthusiasm, sitting between Shelby and Lauren. He knew Shelby was paying rapt attention, amazed at the connections and the implications. She had to be overwhelmed, being in the thick of one of the most pivotal moments in human history. A turning point for sure, something that would stick in our collective memory for generations, and would certainly inspire some major changes. If not purely in the economic sense, then certainly in the sense of increasing what had been noticeably lacking for the past century: awe and humility before nature.
And when it was finally his turn to speak, and he joined the senior members of the WMO, Mason reiterated Solstice’s potential for easing these crises, lamenting that his company had been brought on too late to help, and also had to deal with the untimely death of their CEO and a large reorganization in his passing. He promised to pull back on the requests
for unlimited access to various data, at the same time making their own data and findings more accessible to the world community. And in light of the satellite disruption that had taken out communication and cellular service for thirty percent of the globe, and which had only recently been restored, Mason offered to sell (for a very economical rate) a new solar storm predictive algorithm and program that promised to increase warning time and more accurately predict the severity of solar flares.
He closed by thanking the WMO and the nations of the world, who had come together in shared experience of near annihilation. It was a humbling moment, an event that bonded humanity as one, showed our weaknesses and highlighted our strengths: compassion, charity and courage. He was confident that together they would rebuild and strengthen and prepare for ways to ward off or at least mitigate future damage.
Stepping down to cheers and respectful handshakes, Mason joined Shelby and his wife, taking Lauren’s hand as she stood—on her own—smiling. She walked gingerly, leaning on the old weathered staff. She seemed to draw energy from it, and with every step her back seemed to straighten and her legs wobbled only slightly, looking to all the world as if she had never had anything seriously wrong.
“Well that wasn’t so bad,” Lauren said.
Shelby stifled a giggle as they walked through past the other rows and out into the hall, where Mason finally took a deep breath. He hugged Lauren, and then found Gabriel waiting for them around a corner. He had several other Solstice employees with him, including Belgar and Angelica—newly appointed board members.
“Ready for a trip?” Angelica asked.
Lauren looked up at Mason. “You really have to go?”
“London,” Mason said. “Yes, the duty apparently of all us arch-druid types. Got to pay homage to where it all began, do the state tour and visit the shrines.”
“Don’t worry, Mom.” Shelby hugged Mason’s arm. “I’ll show him around and keep him safe. No sacrifices, no tornadoes.”
“I’ll hold you to that,” Lauren said. “And Gabe?”
Gabriel shook his head. “Not me. Someone’s got to stick around and hold down the fort. Helping get the satellite data restored and weather stations back online around the world, implementing some new software.”
Mason smiled. It had been almost a week, and no ill effects yet on Gabriel. The memory modification seemed to have worked. He led Lauren out into the bright sunshine where there were just a few hints of darker striated clouds to the east. The air was full, hazy and warm, with a light breeze coming in over the river.
“What do you think?” Lauren asked as she got in the limo and looked up at the sky. “Weather forecast?”
Mason smiled and kissed her. “Excellent chance of continued sunshine and mild temperatures through Thursday. Although, I’ve been known to be wrong. From time to time.”
She handed him the staff. “Keep this, then. Just in case you happen upon one of those times.”
He gripped the staff, and felt its coursing power. Felt the wind stir and ripple around him, the air fluctuate and the earth tremble in deference.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” Shelby voiced with some concern.
“I won’t,” Mason replied. Then, out of habit, he signed: Still my girl?
Shelby grinned a big grin, all teeth and gums. She signed back, just as fast: Always, then pulled him along. “Let’s get to the airport. Gabriel, you coming to see us off?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’ll stick around and see if the press has any follow-up questions I can help with. Have yourselves an uneventful trip.”
Mason paused at the door, turned back and approached Gabriel. Looked into his eyes, then reached in and gave his son a large hug. One that was returned.
“See you soon.”
Epilogue
Gabriel made it to the roof of the nearby apartment complex twenty minutes later. Nearly out of breath, he took a moment to compose himself before approaching the hooded figure standing near the edge. The figure was squat and shorter than him by a foot, but still, dressed in the darker grey robe and leaning on a twisted knotty staff of cherry wood, the druid seemed full of confidence and power.
“I received your message,” Gabriel said as the winds picked up. He looked out over the street, past the buses and cabs, to observe the new construction on the UN dome, and the intensity of the sun glinting off the metal framework. “But I don’t understand. Who are you, and why couldn’t I speak of your request for a meeting? Why all the secrecy?”
A slender hand rose and pulled back the hood, revealing a curly mass of red hair. The short, solid woman turned, revealing hauntingly attractive features. “You will have all the answers, in moments. Once I remove the memory blocks.”
Gabriel opened his mouth, about to protest, but then the light in her eyes—bright and fiery—stopped him cold. And he stood motionless as she approached, raising the staff that glowed and pulsed like a light from a miniature sun.
“I’m Lady Sunfire, young man. And you … you are the key to restoring your true master’s vision, and restoring the balance.”
“But—”
“Quiet now,” Sunfire said. “Clear your mind and focus on the light. This will take but a moment. You will remember, and together we will forge ahead with what must be done.”
Gabriel tried to shake his head, tried to back up. This wasn’t right. He was doing great things, reshaping the world, working with his father and sister. That felt right. Nothing else mattered.
“Oh, but it does,” the elder druid said, as if she had read his mind. “And when you remember what was taken from you, I will show you new ways of exacting revenge. After all,” she said it with a twinkle in her eye and smirk to her lips. “Your father showed me the way. It’s my namesake after all, but the solar weather is the key. Sunfire indeed!”
With that, she stamped her staff on the concrete floor and said: “Remember!”
About the Author
David Sakmyster is the award-winning author of more than a dozen novels, including Jurassic Dead and The Morpheus Initiative, a series featuring psychic archaeologists (described as “Indiana Jones meets the X-Files”). He also has an epic historical adventure, Silver and Gold, the suspense novels Crescent Lake and Blindspots, and a story collection, Escape Plans. His screenplay, Nightwatchers, has been optioned for production. Visit him at
www.sakmyster.com
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