by Sean Platt
In the bright sun, the beam was hard to see. But then it became easier.
“Yes. From the money pit.”
“Maybe it’s trying to reconnect to the network. Maybe soon, they’ll lay more stones and start again.”
“You think Canned Heat affected them, too?”
Cameron chewed his cheek, his gaze still unblinking. After a thoughtful pause, he said, “I get this feeling that what affects us affects them automatically.”
“Why?”
“It’s just a feeling.”
Piper understood, in a way. She’d had a feeling earlier, having to do with the vengeance at Little Cottonwood Canyon as somehow related to Meyer, his connection to Divinity, and the way it had changed him. And, perhaps most importantly, the way he’d stayed the same.
“How long are you going to stare at that ship?”
“I told you. I’m not staring at the ship.”
Again, Piper compared Cameron’s profile to his line of sight.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Piper did.
“Look at the ship.”
Piper did that, too.
“Now let your eyes settle. Don’t focus. Just let the muscles relax. Look through the ship more than at it.”
“Okay.”
“Now without looking away, see if you can check your peripheral vision. To the right. At the base of that big outcropping. And tell me I’m not crazy.”
Piper followed Cameron’s directions. The first few times she tried, her eyes wanted to look at the outcropping full on, and she had to start again. Then she got the trick of seeing into the corners without actually looking, and —
Piper jumped, breath catching in her throat.
“So you see it.”
Piper took a calming breath and gazed back at the ship. She let her eyes defocus. It was still there, right where Cameron had said: a shape like a large dog, an ink-black shadow with nothing to cast it. When she turned to look directly at it, the shadow was gone, but when she merely caught it sidelong, the shape was clear as day. The kind of thing that couldn’t be unseen. The kind of thing that would, she felt sure, visit her nightmares.
“I see it.”
“Is that what was inside the lab?”
“I think so. What is it?”
Cameron gave a tiny shake of his head. “I don’t know. But I think I saw it outside, when we first got near the mothership, before we went in. You saw it inside, and now it’s out here.”
“It’s following us.”
“Grace didn’t react when we mentioned it. She’s been hiding in that lab for days. If it had been there, you’d think she’d have seen it. That makes me think we brought it with us.”
Piper found the shape again. She didn’t like seeing the thing, so she blinked away, looking at the formation’s base directly. And of course there was nothing there.
“Is it like the BB?”
“Maybe. But my gut says no.”
“What do we do? Try tricking it like before?”
“You know what they say about fool me once, fool me twice,” Cameron said.
“I don’t think we can. I think this is something else. Not a drone. Whatever that is, it’s alive. It’s awake. And even when we forget to look, it’s paying attention.”
Piper’s eyes strayed to the ship. The giant sphere that had once been elsewhere before returning to Moab for reasons unknown. It must have dropped the troops that destroyed the lab, just enough to let the humans do their jobs as unwitting translators.
The Astrals had played the humans once, too. And just as the aliens wouldn’t be fooled twice, Piper didn’t particularly want to be played again, either.
“It left the lab so we’d be able to figure out where the Templars put Thor’s Hammer and how to get at it,” Cameron said.
“I assumed. So what do we do?”
“We solve the puzzle,” Cameron said. “Then lead them to it.”
CHAPTER 12
Christopher did a double take while passing the network center, on his way to check the roof’s dish. He saw a big black circle with eyes in its middle, like a black Pac-Man, then realized he was seeing Terrence’s hair, after having made peace with the idea that it was gone forever.
“Terrence?”
There were two Titans, two humans, and two Reptars watching Terrence work. The guards were arranged in a semicircle, paired like a Noah’s Ark of security personnel.
“Oh. Hey, Christopher.”
The lack of recognition was disarming. Last Christopher heard, Terrence had been sent up to the mothership on something dire enough to raise Raj’s dander. But now that Terrence was free and working on computers under the literal gun, Raj was nowhere to be seen, and Meyer’s orders meant nothing. Christopher had no idea what side he was supposed to be on, where everyone’s allegiances lay, and whether he himself was in trouble. When the bad guys became the good guys and the bad guys’ allies made the good guys work while the bad guys vanished …
Well, Christopher was confused enough.
“You’re … here,” he said, giving the most neutral, noncommittal answer.
“Yes.” Terrence looked at Christopher, seeming to wonder if he could trust him. “I’m here.”
“It’s good to see you.”
This was stupid. Christopher felt like a person talking on a tapped phone line. The Reptars were standing down but glaring with their yellow eyes. Meyer would shit when he saw that; Reptars were strictly outside-the-home security. The Titans were watching the men with bland interest, and the house guards were eyeing Christopher with a mix of respect and skepticism. Christopher was second in command only to Raj, and first in command until recently because Raj never used his authority. Still, Terrence was a prisoner, and Christopher knew him from way back. The guards might be for Christopher or against him. It was a knot with too many loose ends.
“Good to see you too, Chris.”
“Maybe you can take a break. From … ” He looked at Terrence’s position: kneeling on the network center floor, doors propped open, a cowling of some sort removed from one of the large machines, his tattooed arms up to the wrists in jumbled wires.
“ … from what the Commander of the Guard told me to do, of course.”
“Of course.”
Christopher looked at the humans. “Take five.”
“Sorry, Captain,” said Francis, one of the humans. “We’re under orders to stay by his side.”
“Francis, it’s me.”
“Sorry, sir.”
Before Christopher could protest more, a voice came from behind. Overhead lights flickered, and this time they stayed dead for a full beat. It was as if the voice, at Christopher’s rear, had turned the lights on and off to keep everyone quiet, like in kindergarten.
“Christopher.”
Christopher turned. “Raj.”
“Maybe it’s time you started calling me by my title.”
“Raj,” Christopher repeated.
Raj regarded Christopher, apparently wondering if the fight was worth it. It must not have been because instead of insisting, he wandered away, farther down the hallway. When he looked back, Christopher intuited he was supposed to follow. It was his turn to decide if it was a power play worth resisting.
It wasn’t. Not with all the thin ice.
“He’s fixing what he broke,” Raj said, answering Christopher’s unasked question.
“Can he do that? Mo says it’s everywhere. Out on the Internet, even.”
“With help, he can.”
“I came to adjust the dish. Thought that might help.”
Raj rolled his eyes with pure drama. Apparently, that had been the stupidest thing Christopher could have said.
“They don’t need the dish. Are you kidding me?”
“I didn’t know the Astrals were helping.”
“Of course they’re helping, Christopher. Contrary to what some seem to feel lately, we’re in this together.”
“Jons is asking for Vice
roy Dempsey.”
“Did anyone bother to tell him that the viceroy is dead?”
“We didn’t have a conversation. It was a request, for the guards. I’ll tell him when I get there, but no, it didn’t seem necessary to send someone on an extra trip by foot, with the network out.”
“Police Captain Jons sent word through you?”
“Me and Trevor. But Trevor isn’t around, so yes, through me.” Something in Raj’s face bothered Christopher. He wanted to punch it more than usual. He fought the urge to add, Is that a problem for you? But something in that cocky bearing made him hold it in.
“Okay. Run to Jons.”
“Not just me, Raj.” He was struck by sudden inspiration, eyes flicking to Terrence, who could use a bit of time without the asshole on his back. “He wants to talk to you, too.”
“Why?”
“You’re commander, aren’t you?”
“For now. You can handle it, Captain.”
“There’s a grid issue. The Apex is drawing a bunch of power. With the network out, it’s sucking from the lines, like charging a phone by plugging it into a computer.”
“So?”
“I don’t know this shit … sir. Maybe you’d better come to explain why a glass pyramid is pulling power the city needs, now especially.”
“What makes this my problem? The Astrals can draw whatever power they want. This is their city.”
“Did you know the Apex even uses power?”
Raj looked like he was deciding whether or not he should admit to something. He glanced back at Terrence, maybe realizing that the man, who was trying to clean his own mess, must already know. It was hard to tell in the sunlight, but after getting the message, Christopher had looked at the Apex to see if he could see what Jons had reported. Sure enough, the thing was pulsing like a power indicator. It wasn’t normally lit, yet now it was alight as if struggling to get what it needed. Something wired below the city in ways no one had noticed before.
“Yes. I helped design the network,” Raj said. “Our part anyway.”
“What power does it need?”
“I don’t see how that’s your concern.”
Christopher shrugged. “I just want to know what I should tell Jons.”
“Tell him to mind his own fucking business.”
“Sure. But hey, you’re the one who said we should all work together — us and the Astrals. Jons has his geeks working from the city side. You’re on the hub here. But the Apex? If we keep treating it like an unknown … ”
“It’s an antenna of some sort,” Raj blurted.
“They told you that.”
“It’s obvious. It’s also the reason you adjusting dishes is pointless. You can see it in the logs and usage. They’re connected to it some other way, but it’s fed into the grid, too. With our power off, it’s probably acting as a sink.”
“Can we just cut it off then, if it has its own power?”
“I … ” He looked at Terrence. “I don’t know.”
“Really. Okay. I’ll tell Jons you don’t know anything.”
Raj’s jaw set. “I’m staying here. Tell Jons to leave the Apex connection alone until he hears otherwise. I’m watching what Terrence is doing, and he won’t try anything funny unless he wants summary execution. Until then, if the Apex is pulling power from what Jons is supervising, tough shit.”
“If that’s what you want.”
“It’s what I want.”
Christopher turned, feeling himself dismissed, and walked back toward the stairs.
“Oh, and Captain?” Raj said from behind him.
Christopher turned.
“I know that you and Terrence are good friends.”
Christopher considered denying. Instead, meeting Raj’s greedy little eyes, he nodded.
“If he can’t fix this, I just want you to know that I’m holding you responsible as well.”
Christopher felt his patience snap. “How the hell can you — ”
“And Captain?”
Christopher held his tongue, his internal temperature rising.
“I suggest you don’t stop by to see Lila on the way to Jons.”
Christopher bit his lip. With Meyer gone, the Astrals mum, and the city going dark, there was no way to know who’d end up as the new man on top. Raj thought it’d be him, by rook if not by right. If that happened, given what Raj seemed to have done to Meyer, Terrence’s work might as well include digging his own grave. And he’d be digging one for Christopher, too.
Instead of replying, Christopher turned and left without a word.
He passed the big window to the Apex on his way, stopping a moment to watch it pulse, wondering what possible signals the big blue antenna might be sending.
CHAPTER 13
The trick of seeing the shadow was like rolling a quarter across the knuckles for show. Once Piper had it figured out, she couldn’t stop trying while Cameron puzzled over their retrieved drives. The difference was that this particular trick chilled her, and distracting Cameron to point out its movements (closer, farther, circling around as if trying to get a better angle on what they were doing) felt like an awful idea. They’d come to dig into Benjamin’s research. Nathan wanted to move on now that they’d left the labs — perhaps to study the data away from the mothership’s eye — but Cameron was more practical: They didn’t know if they had the information required to find Thor’s Hammer. As long as the lab was still standing with potential evidence inside, they should keep it close. They might need to go back … but for what was a constant question below the group’s skin, with everyone afraid to ask.
Piper blinked in the sun, telling herself that her eyes were on the ship and lab, not the shadow with no substance. Not the thing she felt compelled to watch even though it made her flesh crawl, because not knowing where it might be was so much worse.
Piper jumped when Charlie came up behind her.
“Charlie!” A few breaths. “I didn’t see you there.”
“It occurs to me that the situation may be different than we imagine.”
Piper waited for more. There was none.
“Why’s that, Charlie?”
“Benjamin said that the Templars left clues like a scavenger hunt. I can’t read runes and I don’t have his history background, so I tended to take his word.”
Again, Piper waited. Then she said, “Okay.”
“But the photo you saw, which we assume was taken in a buried temple below the Heaven’s Veil pyramid, said, ‘Device missing.’ Meaning it was taken away, again supposedly by the Templars. There were instructions, written by humans and meant to be read by other humans of the same mindset, leading to a location inside Cottonwood Canyon. But the instructions were to the plate in Cameron’s satchel, not the missing device itself. The key to start it up rather than the thing that needed starting.”
“Charlie said that Benjamin knew where Thor’s Hammer was. He didn’t actually say, though. The way Cameron tells it, he thought it was a big joke.”
“That’s what I’ve been thinking. That it would be a joke. The Templars took the key. They hid the key. So where is the Hammer? Why split them up?”
“Maybe it’s like hiding the gun in one place and the bullets in another.”
Charlie was looking at the ship. Maybe at the shadow, too.
“There’s more missing here than their device,” he said after a long moment.
“Hey, you two,” Cameron said, beckoning. He’d raised an awning on the RV’s side and had been sitting in the shade, a long power cord running from the vehicle’s interior to a folding metal chair Cameron had fashioned into his outdoor office. The setup made Piper uneasy. They were taking the ship far, far too much for granted. Charlie could talk all day about how this was all a shell game with each side trying to outwit the other without actually hiding, but to Piper it was more like tumbling dice. Driving away from the mothership might keep them safer or it might not, but sitting so close was spitting in fate’s eye … like Benj
amin beneath it all those years ago.
Piper came forward, flanked by Charlie. Andreus and Coffey, watching them gather from a distance, came into the shade to see what was going on.
A collage of photos showing the blue pyramid being built in the middle of Heaven’s Veil lit Cameron’s screen.
“I didn’t know where to start,” he said. “Dad knew a lot about many things, and he’d spread his interests across the globe. I tried searching this drive for Thor’s Hammer, and found a lot of results. A lot of results. He’s been fiddling with the theory forever. But I don’t see anything concrete — just mentions of ancient doomsday weapons from religious texts, rumors, stories of vengeful gods who came from the sky. There’s so little in common between the stories — other than weapon or plague or reset itself — that nothing stuck out. So I set them aside. Anything before Astral Day is suspect. Too much has changed. So I started looking only at documents that mention Thor’s Hammer since that time, in the last two-plus years.”
Nathan looked at Charlie. “Shouldn’t you be doing this rather than Cameron?”
“He said I knew where it was,” Cameron said, a trifle shortly. “On the ride to Cottonwood.” He looked at Piper and related what she’d just told Charlie. As far as historical jokes go, it’s a doozy.
“So where is it, Professor?”
Cameron shook his head. “Somewhere we went together, I guess. But we went so many places. We went to Giza. We went to Aztec and Mayan settlements, to Turkey, to the Painted Desert. We saw the Olmec heads, all over Europe, the Rose Stone. I was like luggage to my father. He had places to go, so my mom and I went too. After a while, she stopped going and stayed home. That was the beginning of the end, and I’d chosen my father by default because he kept dragging me along. When she finally left him, I was in the middle. So I spent a long time turning my back on what now, I’m supposed to see as obvious.”
“Egypt,” said Andreus. “That seems logical.”
“I guess we’ll hop on a plane,” Charlie said.
“There are ways.”
“Especially when there’s so much evidence to support such a long, dangerous trip.”