Dark Matter (Interchron Book 3)

by Liesel K. Hill

  Lila shrugged. “You had my back up on that mountain, and when the Canyon…happened. Besides, my dad taught me to be a good judge of character. You’re good and kind and decent. Not to mention, you’re related to Maggie. So…I trust you.”

  “I’m glad,” Jonah said. “For the record, ditto.”

  Lila smiled. It softened her features in a way he thought he could stare at for hours.

  “Good night, Jonah.”

  “Good night Lila.”

  Chapter 28: Terror, Loneliness, Desolation, Madness

  Karl walked Tenessa back to her quarters and followed her in. She moved to the other side of the room and fell awkwardly into a chair beside the table, looking as exhausted as Karl felt.

  "You okay?" He asked. He wondered what thoughts spun through her head. He’d studied her as she’d watched Doc mourn for Nat. Her expression had been unreadable at best.

  "The Separatist knows I am well. Why does he linger?" her voice sounded sullen, wooden.

  Anger flared in Karl’s chest. “Why shouldn’t I?” he snapped. “You sent your collectivist buddies a message in the middle of all the chaos in that meadow. You think I trust you enough to leave you alone?”

  Tenessa’s eyebrows jumped in surprise. “We…sent a message?” she asked warily, suddenly looking like a deer caught in the headlights.

  Karl sighed, too tired to repress his irritation. “Don’t play stupid, Tenessa. I felt the transmission through the Cupola bond. That was the whole point of instituting the bond to begin with.”

  Tenessa’s jaw hardened. “And,” she muttered, “to invade our mind and influence us.”

  Karl ignored the comment. “You sent some sort of energy out toward the collectives."

  "We only announced our presence,” Tenessa said firmly, though her stance had relaxed. “The Union needed to be made aware. It did no harm to the Separatists or their plan."

  Karl studied Tenessa, trying to read her. “Right,” Karl muttered darkly. “You’re innocent. You were just waving at old friends—"

  “Besides,” Tenessa spoke over him. “We are not alone. The Separatist’s bond makes certain of it.” She glared at him before dropping her eyes.

  Karl bit his tongue to keep from commenting on the irony of a collectivist not liking a bond. Instead, he asked, "Why haven't you asked me to release the bond, Tenessa? You haven't said two words since we returned."

  Tenessa glanced up at him and he saw vulnerability in her gaze. "The Separatist will now try to stop the assimilation, correct? We assume we will be part of that, and the Separatist will leave us with the Union once he has accomplished his aims."

  Karl snorted. "Or you think we’re going to fail, and you’ll be reabsorbed with the rest of us."

  Tenessa frowned. Her eyes looked troubled, which surprised Karl. He would have thought she would be smug and triumphant about the very real possibility of their failure.

  "The Separatists’ failure is…another option, yes."

  Karl sighed, too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, to try and figure Tenessa out. He turned and headed for the door. Before reaching it, he turned back to her. For some reason he couldn’t pinpoint, he felt compelled to tell her something of how he felt about their time together. Now would probably be his last chance. Knowing it wouldn’t mean anything at all to her, he opened his mouth. "I suppose it hardly matters anymore. This whole thing will be done in twelve hours. Whether we succeed or fail, you'll be back with your collective. You can forget all about me. I admit, Tenessa, I'll miss our little arguments."

  Her eyes snapped up in alarm. "The Separatist lies," she snarled.

  Karl registered mild surprise. "Truly, Tenessa, I don't."

  Her eyes widened further, his answer seeming to trouble her deeply. Karl had no idea why, but it hardly mattered now.

  “The Separatist will not…miss…our company,” she muttered.

  “Tenessa.” Her eyes quickened again when he said her name. “You may not want to admit it, but being here at Interchron has had an impact on you. Whenever anyone says your name, a spark of energy dances in your eyes. It excites you, doesn’t it? Having an identity, I mean.”

  The jaw under her olive skin hardened. “The Separatist is wrong.”

  Karl shook his head, wondering why she so stubbornly denied it. “It’s not wrong to feel that way, Tenessa. It’s natural. Human.”

  When she didn’t answer, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground, Karl knew he ought to leave it there. His curiosity wouldn’t lie still, though.

  “I have a pull on you, Tenessa. Maybe it’s small, but I’d have a pull on you from a galaxy away.”

  “The Separatist understands nothing,” Tenessa snapped. “Proximity makes a pull grow stronger. Your pull on me is stronger than galaxies. Because you’re right here.” She turned fully away from him, as though she didn’t have the strength to look him in the face. Her next words were quiet, but he heard them clearly. “I must get away from you to escape it. Distance will lessen the bond.”

  Karl’s mouth fell open. What the hell was that supposed to mean. She sounded…disturbed. Frightened, even.

  "Did it bother you, to see us mourning one of our own so heavily?"

  Tenessa turned with a frown. She looked troubled, but also confused. "We simply wonder why. Why did such mourning take place?"

  "There is no why, Tenessa. This kind of emotion isn’t logical. It's a passionate outburst most of us can't help. We have to mourn."

  Tenessa shook her head. "The Separatist misunderstands. We want to know what the specific cause of this mourning is.”

  Karl frowned. “Nat is dead.”

  Tenessa looked frustrated. “Yes, but why does the white-haired Separatists mourn the one with the grizzled beard so violently? Do all Separatists mourn his way?" She looked up into his face and he saw earnestness there.

  "No two individuals mourn the same way," Karl said slowly. "Doc and Nat were brothers. They fought for many years, side-by-side, against the collectives. They've known each other since they were children. Babies, in fact. That's a lot of history.”

  Tenessa frowned, looking uncertain.

  Karl heaved a deep breath, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. “It's about loving someone so much, you can't imagine your existence without them. When they're gone, we feel their loss, like a hole in our chests."

  Karl put a hand on his chest to illustrate. Even though he hadn't been particularly close to Nat, he did feel that hole now. The hole bored by Clay's death still hadn't filled, and probably never would. Karl wondered vaguely how many holes a man could sustain before he caved in.

  "It happened very suddenly,” he continued. “No one got any closure. No one got to say goodbye. Doc thinks this was his fault," Karl's voice broke unexpectedly on the last word, and he stopped, blinking away the moisture that sprung up in his eyes and swallowing past the lump in his throat.

  Tessa glanced up at him in surprise, her face darkening.

  Karl took a deep breath to get control of his voice. He shook his head, wondering why he bothered explaining any of this to her. "I wouldn’t expect you to understand. It's not something you've ever experienced. Nor will you, after you return to the collective."

  He breathed deeply again, trying to shake off the heaviness pressing on his chest. “We need your help, Tenessa. We have only a few hours before the merging and the Assimilation happens. Tell us what we need to do to stop this thing."

  Tenessa’s expression looked…self-conscious? That couldn’t be right. Collectivists didn't feel such things. She dropped her eyes to study the table in front of her. "The deal still holds?" she asked. "The Separatists will leave us behind after we help stop the assimilation?"

  Karl studied her, pondering. He still had no intention of leaving her behind, no matter what happened. No matter what she said, he refused to let her be butchered by the collectives. He supposed now was not the time for the truth. They needed her knowledge too much. And if they failed, it would b
ecome a moot point anyway.

  When Karl didn’t answer, Tenessa jutted out her chin. "We will not help the Separatists unless they promise to honor the deal."

  Karl let out an exasperated breath. "The deal remains the same, Tenessa. Tell me what we need to do."

  Tenessa straightened her spine and relaxed her shoulders. Despite her more casual stance, her face didn't look entirely relieved. Karl wondered why.

  “Very well,” she finally said, giving a single nod of her head. “The Union will use the energy of the eclipse, and the neurochemical energy of the Council of Six and all of their drawings to create a corridor of energy. This will merge the Unions and assimilate all minds on earth."

  “We already know this, Tennesa." Karl said sharply. "Tell us what to do."

  Tenessa glared at him. "During the assimilation, the emotions of the members will not be mediated."

  Karl gasped before he could stop himself. “The collectives will not mediate emotions during the assimilation?"

  Tenessa shook her head. "The Union uses the energy of emotion to attach new members to itself. Once they are integrated, their emotions are mediated. Not before."

  It actually made a lot of sense to Karl. Arachnimen forced people into the collectives using fear and violence. David had talked about feeling their horror as they entered. If anything, the lessening of those negative emotions was probably welcome to the victims. They would embrace it just for the comfort, which would bind them even more strongly to the collective consciousness. Anger burned in Karl’s chest.

  "So," he said acidly. "Despite the collectives’ preaching about the destructiveness of emotion, it’s the only way they can actually get anything done."

  Tenessa glared at him.

  Karl took a cleansing breath. "How does this help us stop the assimilation?"

  Tenessa hesitated. "To keep the Union’s members from feeling the weight of too much emotion, the Union will drive the emotion into the corridor of energy. This keeps the emotions fluid, so the members can bear it while all minds are merged and assimilated. The Executioner can disrupt the corridor of energy, causing negative emotions to fall fully on the Union’s members.”

  Karl raised an eyebrow. “Like a backlash?”

  Tenessa nodded. “They aren’t used to feeling such potent emotions. It will cause a moment of confusion before the Union can redirect the energy again. The same disruption will all affect all Concealments and Protections.”

  “Making them vulnerable to attack,” Karl said, understanding.

  “Only for a brief moment,” Tenessa said, looking at Karl as though determined to make him understand this point.

  Karl nodded. “So," he said slowly. "If we disrupt the corridor of energy, we can perhaps kill the Cimerian. Or one of the Council of Six. Perhaps even get the orb in the confusion?"

  Tenessa gave a single nod of her head. “The logistics are up to the separatists.”

  Karl nodded again. He needed to go. Needed to relay this information to the team so they could devise their plan. Yet Karl felt reluctant to go. Tenessa’s previous comment flashed in his mind.

  “That, and to invade our mind and influence us.”

  Had there been fear in her statement?

  “You don’t have to worry, you know,” Karl said. “The Cupola bond, it’s not quantum entanglement—”

  Fear flashed in Tenessa’s eyes, confirming Karl’s suspicions.

  “—It’s a relatively superficial bond.”

  “We don’t…understand why the Separatist talks about…these things.”

  Karl rolled his eyes. She obviously struggled for words. Struggled to hide the emotions her eyes couldn’t mask. “It’s what you think happened, isn’t it?” he asked. “With Maggie and Marcus? I know you’ve been thinking about it since our conversation on the subject. I have too. It’s the only thing that makes sense. They were quantumly entangled. When Maggie lost her memories, Marcus released the bond, so we could send her back to her own time. Because of that entanglement, he still felt when she was hurt, or in trouble.”

  “Not until the Executioner regained her memories,” Tenessa said.

  Karl arched an eyebrow. A good point. He gave Tenessa a small smile. “Ah, so you have been thinking about it.”

  She gave him a brief deer-in-the-headlights look. “We cannot explain why he felt her pain. Quantum entanglement is believed to be a universal constant. Once two things are quantumly entangled, it cannot simply be undone. They will exert an influence on one another forever.”

  Karl raised an eyebrow. “And do you believe in forever, Tenessa?” He’d asked the question once before, and she’d been evasive.

  The suspicious glare returned. “Time will always go forward.”

  Ah, the exact same answer, word for word. Which meant she had no answer at all and so simply repeated a memorized phrase.

  “Will it?” he asked. “It’s kind of like the tree falling in the woods, isn’t it? Does it even matter if there’s no one to observe the occurrence?”

  She frowned at him.

  “Your collective would have us face forever as robots. What’s the point if we can’t think and learn and grow? Give me the searing pain of mourning a loved one any day.”

  Tenessa swallowed—actually swallowed!—and jerked her chin away from him. No way he’d imagined it. Each time he saw her emotion, he told himself not to hope too much, but this was definitely getting to her.

  “Emotions are what drive the universe, Tenessa,” he pressed the advantage. “Without passion, we have no drive. Without drive, nothing ever gets done. Passionate emotions drive human behavior. Terror. Loneliness. Desolation. Madness.” He dropped his voice to a soft murmur. “Joy. Pleasure. Do you really think those who rule your ‘Union’ are as emotionless as the people they rule? Of course not. If they felt no emotion, they would have no drive to oppress others.”

  He cleared his throat and turned away, walking to the other side of the room. Walking helped him think. He wanted to approach this from a different angle.

  He turned to her. “The collectives breed drones, right? Why?”

  Her brows drew together. “To propagate the species, of course.”

  “But why propagate the species?”

  Tenessa huffed in annoyance and folded her arms again.

  Karl smiled. The heaviness had receded. This felt like their usual banter.

  “The Separatist asks useless questions,” Tenessa muttered.

  “No,” Karl said firmly. “I have a point. Answer me, Tenessa. What is the point of propagating the species? What does the collective hope to accomplish?”

  When she met his gaze, cautious curiosity filled her eyes. “It is…logical to propagate a species and sustain life.”

  “Ah,” he smiled. “You and your chilly logic, Tenessa.” He chuckled. “But there’s my point. The instinct to survive is the most basic one we have. Why do we want to survive?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He took a deep breath. “So we can experience life. We want our children and descendants to survive so something of us is left when we’re gone. That’s not logic. It’s all sentimentality. You believe in propagating the species, yet the only reason to do so is an emotional one. Maybe emotions are primitive, but they’re also inevitable. And necessary to sustain life.”

  Tenessa glared up at him. Confusion and understanding warred behind her mask of defiance. He felt sure she knew he spoke truth, but fought against accepting it. Then she did something she’d never done before: she turned her face toward the ground, refusing to look up at him.

  Karl barely suppressed a gasp. Did she just concede?

  Karl waited almost a full minute for her stance to change. It didn’t. He didn’t know what to say. Perhaps he’d pushed her too far today.

  “Please,” Tenessa said, “leave us.” Her voice sounded thick. Could she be crying?

  Karl swallowed, wishing she’d turn so he could see her face. “I…didn’t mean to upset you,” he s
aid.

  “The Separatist did not upset us!” Tenessa snarled. She didn’t turn, though, and the thickness remained.

  Her emotion affected Karl more than it should have. His chest hurt. He swallowed against the thickness in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he said woodenly. “My point was only that you don’t have to worry about me taking the bond to a deeper level. You and I aren’t quantumly entangled. Once I disintegrate our bond, we won’t have a sense of one another, as Maggie and Marcus did. I wouldn’t want that, Tenessa. I wouldn’t want to be emotionally tied to someone who doesn’t want it. It’s too intimate, too personal. When this is done, I’ll release the bond. I only leave it in place now as a safeguard.”

  Tenessa didn’t move or answer.

  Feeling suddenly confused, Karl turned to leave. At the door, he stopped and leaned a hand against the frame. He felt so heavy, so tired. Nat, the eclipse, the assimilation. And Tenessa. Tenessa most of all, though he couldn’t have said why. He felt as though the entire weight of Interchron rested on his shoulders.

  “Thank you for your help, Tenessa,” he said over his shoulder, not turning to look back at her. “The team has to make plans. I’ll come get you when it’s time to leave.”

  He moved swiftly out into the hallway and strode down the corridor, determinedly ignoring the nagging hook in his chest that made him want to return. The urge was a result of everything pressing on Karl. He and Tenessa had a relationship unique to them, after all, but that didn’t make it healthy. The pull Karl felt toward her was based in darkness. Had to be. For the first time in his life, Karl found himself gazing inwardly toward it.

  Chapter 29: The In-Between

  Holding tightly to Marcus’s hand, Maggie picked her way gingerly down the Interchron’s outer slope. Energies of every size and color still filled the sky above. Their electric currents made the wind smell like heated metal. Maggie even tasted a metallic zing on her tongue.

  Doc had already arrived. While Jonah and Lila practiced, and Karl did battle with Tenessa, Maggie asked him to meet her out here. She needed to tell him things she hadn’t wanted to say before, and they needed to discuss the eclipse. Besides, after the heaviness of the past few hours, they could all use some air.