by Dan Glover
"I'll have no problem finding old New York City. The situation there is such that if we do manage to land safely, the nanobots will infiltrate our bodies immediately. Yours may offer you some protection, Mr. Maon. Mine will not. Within minutes I'll become what I was... a metal monstrosity with no sense of self.
"I don’t want to live like that... so here is what I suggest: I'll land as close to Cornell University as possible, allow you to disembark, and then take to the sky again. Our phones will act as communication devices as long as we stay within fifty kilometers of one another.
"With luck, you'll be able to make your way inside Cornell... we can do a flyover so I can point out the way. Once you locate our people, let me know. I'll set down long enough for you to board and be back in the sky within minutes."
He knew it wouldn't work but he remembered one of his professors telling him that any plan was better than no plan at all. Without any familiar landmarks to navigate by he resorted to flying by the compass, heading north east into the storm.
Small nodules began pelting the windshield. As they flew into the maelstrom the mist took on shapes of dragons swooping high overhead. The day turned into a ghostly gray crepuscule filled with murky shapes marauding across his field of vision.
Below them the landscape seethed as waves of newly intelligent sands sought to mimic the life it could never create. The air was cold. He switched on both the cabin heater and the atmosphere recycling unit to keep out the nanobots as long as possible. He knew they were so small they could easily penetrate the metal skin of the jet but it would take time for enough of them to do so to cause any affect upon him.
"Is that another plane?"
Maon pointed to what seemed to be a tarmac shrouded in mist directly below them. The runway was clear as if someone had recently landed there blowing away the billowing sands if only briefly.
"That's the plane Alpin took off in... I'm sure of it, Mr. Maon."
"Can you land beside him?"
As Pete banked the jet to double back the impact of particles against the windshield increased in both intensity and size until he feared the glass would shatter. Going low during the first pass allowed the exhaust from the jet engines to blow sand free from an old highway allowing a landing spot. Throttling back on the engines he looped about before coming in for a landing.
"I'll jump out as soon as you stop, Mr. Pete. Perhaps it's best if you take off again rather than wait for me."
Up until that moment Pete thought he'd be returning home to the Isle of Skye—to his wife and children—where he would live out the rest of eternity with his loved ones. Now he realized there was no going back.
Karen would be disappointed in him. After all she had done to talk Nate into asking Kirk to go along with him, here he was, trapped in old America anyway and facing extinction. Still, there was no choice in the matter.
Maon opened the door and jumped out slamming the hatchway shut behind him. As he gunned the engines Pete noticed a swarm of what looked like men approaching the jet. He turned in a circle to blast them with exhaust, scattering the sand the images were made of across the runway and back to the hell from which they emerged.
The intercom on his phone crackled.
"Pete... are you there?"
"Yes sir... go ahead."
"I've found Alpin. He's safe. He tells me that it is imperative that we destroy the nest of nanobots lying roughly five o'clock of our position. He tried to make it but the engines on his jet blew out. Can you see it? The nest will look like a red gash in the earth. It is the central control nexus for every nanobot on earth. If we can destroy it, they will all be rendered inert."
It was just as he thought... the success of their mission lay with him now. For just a split second he considered banking the jet away from the nest, climbing high over the clouds of nanobots, and turning for home.
There wasn’t enough fuel to make it back across the ocean, however, and even if there was, he couldn’t bring himself to leave the others behind. Pete realized he wasn’t a good man... he had known that viscerally ever since he was a child growing up in Hell's Kitchen, robbing warehouses and selling the goods on the street with a gang of cutthroats he called his friends.
They were all dead now, of course, but they'd been dead long before the Great Dying. One by one they had succumbed to drugs or alcohol. He would have doubtlessly followed them to their graves if not for the fortuitous opportunity afforded him to attend medical school after a court-ordered stint in the military. And then Micah came along.
Pete had never married for a reason... women seemed to sense the vitriol seething just below the surface of his genteel manners and well-groomed appearance. Even Karen had her moments of doubt until he finally wooed her with trivial nonsense that he had read about in the countless love stories he devoured during the endless nights when sleep refused him its embrace.
"I see it, Mr. Maon. I'm heading right for it. Please tell Karen I love her."
Chapter 52—Trust
The little bastard had lured them into a trap.
Nate cursed himself for trusting Micah. With Kirk being slowly encased in metal a sense of urgency drove him to trust the man as a savior when in fact he should have known better.
Following him down a dark tunnel with each of them carrying one end of a make-shift stretcher containing Kirk, neither of them spoke until they came to an iron grate obstructing their way.
"We need to set Kirk down for a second, Nate, until I can open the door."
The gloom was such that Nate hadn’t noticed the round portal in the middle of the grid until he stepped closer. The hinges looked old, as if the door hadn’t been opened in a century or more.
"The latch is rusted shut."
"Let me give it a try, Micah."
Stepping forward and putting his hands upon the handle, Nate realized it was not only rusted shut but locked. Looking back he noticed Micah had vanished into the murk. The only sound he heard was a hissing coming from Kirk's direction. A metal shell was being woven around his entire body.
The sound of another door slamming shut reverberated and echoed down the tunnel. He knew calling out would do no good. Micah was gone. He'd promised to help them only to lead them here where no one would think to search for them.
Reaching down to put a hand on Kirk, Nate noticed the metallic sand weaving its shell around him fell away under his touch. It was obvious his presence would render the nanobots inert. If only he had time... even as handfuls of sand fell away from Kirk more particles took their place as if multiplying.
Though he expected the air to become stagnant it was soon clear the inside of the tunnel was pressurized as a fresh breeze blew past him back the way they entered from. A memory came floating back to him: breaking out the basement window at Cornell two hundred years ago and how the air rushed out.
"This tunnel does lead to Cornell University."
Even though he didn’t think Kirk could hear him, Nate spoke to him anyhow, or perhaps he was only speaking to himself. He wondered why Micah would lead them here and then abandon them when he knew Kirk was in danger. He supposed the man knew they had come to take Lady Lily home and this was his way of preventing it.
Was Lily still alive?
He hadn’t thought of her in years. When she left him for Kāne it all but destroyed his sense of self esteem. When Kirk asked him to depart Orchardton Hall and move to the south of old France he jumped at the chance. It was a way to start again far away from all the memories.
He'd grown up with Ginger. As children they rarely spent time together. He remembered her as a morose little red headed thing always playing in the dirt all by her lonesome self. On the few times he spoke to her she just stared at him as if mute.
When he saw her again though it was as if for the first time... Ginger seemed to have experienced a kind of metamorphosis from an ugly caterpillar to a gorgeous butterfly. She a glow about her that he'd never noticed before... her faintly red hair had taken on a sheen not
unlike that of his mother while puddles of freckles spilled across the bridge of her slightly upturned nose running down onto each cheek highlighting her light complexion.
He was certain that he'd seen prettier girls but he couldn’t quite remember when... her hour-glass figure combined with the shortness of her stature attracted him immediately but it wasn’t until she turned those splendid green eyes upon him and smiled that he fell for Ginger.
It seemed natural to end up in her bed and when he woke the next morning to see her still in his arms he knew he never wanted to leave her. For just a moment after waking he thought was Lily lying beside him. Ginger must have sensed his discombobulation as she giggle and wriggled next to him soft and warm.
Maybe it was his way of getting back at Kāne. He often wondered of all the girls at Orchardton Hall why he had asked her to come with him. It was Kirk again. He talked Nate into going to see the girl by telling him how she was asking about him.
He owed Kirk so much.
Just a few minutes ago he had saved Nate's life by shoving him inside the doorway when he had hesitated. Kirk must have seen the nanobots bearing down upon them and rather than stepping aside he had shielded Nate with his own body. Now, rather than trying to help him, he was sitting here reminiscing old times and loves.
Standing up and taking hold of the grate he gave it a solid shake feeling its roots buried into the living stone begin to bend but not give. It was old. Perhaps if he had a lever he could pry it loose from the foundation. On the other hand even if they managed to pass this barrier another may lay in wait farther on down the tunnel.
A door slamming rattled him out of his reverie.
Footsteps were coming down the tunnel in a hurry, as if someone was running. Nate crept into the darkness where he might be able to waylay whoever it was coming for them; he expected some horror made up of an amalgamation of nanobots but instead Micah appeared. He was out of breath and he carried a set of gangling keys in his hand.
"Sorry for running off like that, Nate. I just remembered we forgot the keys so I ran to get them. I'm not sure which one fits this particular door."
"Please let me try."
On the eighth key Nate felt the tumbler in the lock want to turn. Working the key back and forth he managed to coax it open. Despite the rust-covered hinges the portal opened surprisingly easy to allow them access to the inner tunnel. Picking up Kirk they begin their interrupted journey back to Cornell University.
"How long does Kirk have before these things kill him, Micah?"
"They won't kill him. They are assimilating him into their network. He'll become a machine, a part of their culture. If we can get him to Lady Lily, I've noticed how her presence will reverse the effects the nanobots are having on him."
"Why isn’t my presence doing the same thing for him, Micah?"
"I have no idea... are you the same species as Lady Lily?"
"I'm two thirds human... Dr. Karen engineered my birth by using three parents... one of her kind and two human beings."
"That might be the answer then... perhaps your body doesn’t put off the same kind of energy that Lady Lily's does. But I have no real way of knowing that. It's an interesting phenomenon however. I recall how I didn’t believe Dr. Karen when she told me about it."
"He's not breathing, Micah."
"There is a problem... I reprogrammed the nanobots when you left here two centuries ago. I was angry. I removed the safeguards I had instilled within them, orders to protect life at all cost. Now that they have evolved into self aware autonomous machines they no longer see human beings as sacred. They must see us as competitors."
"So you're saying Kirk really is dying?"
"I don’t know, Nate. They may be planning to use him in some way, to incorporate his living flesh into their inorganic network. That would seem to be the next logical step in their evolution."
"You seem proud."
"No... not proud... but if they are seeking to use Kirk they will not harm him in the sense we think of it... they will change his structure but they'll keep him alive. That gives us a chance to get him back to Cornell and to Lady Lily. She's our only hope now."
"Why is he so heavy, Micah?"
"I'm not sure but I have to set him down before I drop him."
Chapter 53 —Best Time
Something was wrong.
He couldn’t concentrate on finding any new grape vines and besides, rain had begun falling when he was a few hours out of Toulon. He'd not thought to bring along an extra set of clothing and within an hour he was chilled to the bone by the raw wind whistling over the hilly countryside.
He kept seeing Karen in his mind's eye. She was sick. Though he knew Luciana had been at Toulon Castle when he left, he began to think she had been called away. No one knew he had gone north so perhaps his sister was counting on him to be close by to protect the People.
He loved Amanda and Ginger as surrogate mothers. They had taken him in and made him feel welcome from the day he showed up at Toulon, alone and scared, not knowing if he would be sent back or allowed to stay.
Grandfather Nate was counting on him to be there for his wives. He had promised. Now here he was, hundreds of kilometers away and with nothing to show for his efforts. Instead of being proud of him for bringing back fresh grape vines to cross breed with the old stock, Niall could well be responsible for the deaths of both Amanda and Ginger.
It was Karen's visage that kept coming to him, however. She had arrived at Toulon a week before Grandfather Nate set out for old America. Though her husband Pete had returned to the Isle of Skye—citing pressing business at home—Karen had stayed on to help out in the absence of his grandfather. There were vines to tend and wine casks to vent.
He turned the motorcycle around in a clearing, gunned the engine, and headed back south. The trip was officially a disaster. Not only had he not found any sign of grape vines, the gas tank was already half empty with no place to refill it. He'd be lucky if he didn’t end up walking back to Toulon Castle.
"I don’t want to go back to the Isle of Skye, Grandfather Nate."
His grandfather had called Ena on the day he arrived to inform his mother of his transgressions and his whereabouts. She insisted that he be returned home immediately and Grandfather Nate was getting a vehicle ready to do just that. Ginger had come to his rescue.
"Why don't you talk to Ena about Niall staying on here, my precious Nate? We could use the help. Tell her that he wants to learn the art of winemaking and there is no possibility of that happening in old Scotland."
He had only met Ginger the day before and yet she was taking up for him, doing her best to convince her husband not to take Niall back home. Grandfather Nate had visited the Isle of Skye from time to time but he had never brought his wives with him citing their fear of flying.
"The boy belongs with his mother, my darling Ginger. I told her I'd make sure he got home safely."
"He is home, my lovely Nate. Please allow me to talk with her. If I cannot convince her that Niall is better off here, then I won't say another word."
He didn’t know what Ginger said to his mother but he was allowed to stay at Toulon. He owed them all so much and here he was paying them back by absconding again, running off with nary a word of warning.
Though he wanted to make best speed back home, he knew gasoline engines used more fuel the faster they were revved so he tempered his anxiety and laid off the throttle. Besides, he had heard horror stories almost all his life of how his father Alpin had nearly been killed racing back to Orchardton Hall.
He hadn’t thought to bring a siphoning kit with him. He'd been so excited about his trip that he hadn’t planned it properly. He knew better. He told himself he was smarter than that but his actions proved him wrong.
Most of the old filling stations were difficult if not impossible to find anyway. The underground tanks had developed leaks over the last three hundred years and the gasoline was mixed with water to such a degree that it was unusable.
Father had taught him how to let the mixture sit and separate before pouring off the lighter gasoline but that took days.
Though he did his best to ignore it, his eyes kept going to the gas gauge every couple of minutes. For the longest time it sat on half but when he hit a rut in the road the needle dipped to a quarter tank and did not rise again.
The rain stopped and the sun came out which made the riding easier though he imagined he must be at least a hundred kilometers from Toulon. On his trip into the middle of old France he had noticed placards beside the road detailing the distances to defunct towns and villages but going south most of those signs had faded or were missing all together.
He hoped he wasn’t lost.
The road didn’t look familiar though he told himself it was because he'd been traveling north instead of south. Plus he figured even if he was on the wrong road he would eventually run into the Mediterranean... from there he could make it back to Toulon without too much difficulty.
The gas gauge was suddenly just above empty. He hadn’t looked at it for a good half hour due to his concerns with not being on the right road but now he realized he wasn’t going to make it home... not unless he was a lot closer than he thought.
He tried to recall how long he'd driven north. He estimated he'd traveled a good eight hours though he had no real way of telling. Some of the People still wore timepieces but he never liked the constant reminder of time ticking away. Even though he had been taught he was one of the immortals, he still valued time in a way the Ladies did not.
"Why count that which we have an abundance of, my precious Ena?"
The Lady had once paid them a visit at the Isle of Skye and when he overheard his mother asking her how long she was staying, Grandmother Lily told her that she did not count time in the way that the People did.
Up until that moment, Niall didn’t realize the enormity of whom and what they were. Though he understood no one grew old or sick or infirm, he took that for granted, never considering what it meant.