The guard, detecting the brief pause, scowled as he flicked his eyes at Fil. “Is this man bothering you, sir?”
“No more than usual,” Fil quipped.
Porthos rolled his eyes. “I assure you, Rand, I’m in no danger. If you’ll remove the rope, we’ll be on our way.”
Rand nodded, though the look of concern remained. “Of course, sir. Can you sign in for me?”
Porthos nodded. He signed his name in the log of elevator riders, adding a flourish at the end, and then added “Mr. Phil Trask” as his guest. Fil didn’t bother correcting the error, as he suspected Porthos had used the misspelling as a purposeful sign of disrespect.
Rand glanced at the entry and nodded. “All appears to be in order, then, sir. You’re both free to pass.” He stepped out from behind the desk and unhooked the felt rope, stepping aside to allow the men passage.
Porthos waved Fil through ahead of him before joining the visitor at the elevator car. Fil watched as the Hunter trickled a bit of Energy into the call button, and they waited for the car to arrive.
Porthos glanced back at the guard. “Rand, would you join us, please?”
Fil felt his stomach lurch. He’d not expected this. Porthos wasn’t bringing Rand along for protection.
Or was he?
Rand sprang to his feet, an eager expression upon his face, clearly of the impression that Mr. Sebastian required protection from the stranger. “Of course, sir!” He glared at Fil. “There were reports of someone… breaching the security at the dock. Is this him?”
Fil glanced at Porthos. Porthos shook his head. “No.”
Fil turned to Rand and smiled. “Oh, that was me.”
Porthos glowered at Fil, growling.
Rand pulled out his gun and aimed the weapon at Fil. “I thought so. Foolish of you to come here, you… you… criminal.” A look of triumph crossed his face, as if he’d expected applause for finding the perfect description for Fil. “Mr. Sebastian, you were wise to lead him this way. I’ll be ready to shoot at the first sign of trouble.” He stood up straighter and puffed out his chest. “I’m here to protect you, sir.”
“I know,” Porthos said softly.
Fil felt an ominous chill creep down his spine.
Rand kept his weapon trained on Fil, who preemptively slid a coating of Energy around the weapon. Porthos smirked. The guard moved behind Fil, gripping Fil’s shoulder firmly, putting the barrel of the weapon between Fil’s shoulder blades as the trio moved into the elevator car. Rand glanced at Porthos, and Fil read the emotions of confusion. The man in black was a danger, a threat to Mr. Sebastian. The Aliomenti leader had moved this way and engaged Rand for assistance when accosted by the criminal. And yet at no time had Mr. Sebastian suggested he’d felt threatened by the man in black. Nor had the criminal made any threatening moves.
But he couldn’t question the confusing mix of actions.
His programming wouldn’t allow it.
Fil glanced at Rand, then back at Porthos. “I must commend you, Mr. Sebastian, about the loyalty of your employees. Their unwavering support of you is beyond question or explanation. It’s almost as if they can think of nothing but their loyalty to you, with no independent thoughts of their own.”
Porthos glared at him. “We treat our people well, Mr. Trask, and they reward us with a deep, unwavering loyalty.”
“It’s a great job!” Rand seemed unable to stay out of the conversation. “I’m able to ensure the safety of great men like Mr. Sebastian and Mr. Lowell. My housing is provided to me for free. I live on a tropical island with beautiful weather. Transportation is free, safe, and clean. There are great options for entertainment, dining, and shopping. What more could I ask for?”
“Where are you from, Rand?” Fil asked. Porthos’ face fell.
Rand looked confused. “Where am I… from?”
“Yes. Where were you born? Where did you live before you came to this Island?”
“I…” Rand frowned. “I… don’t remember. That’s strange. I should be able to remember that.” He glanced at Porthos. “Shouldn’t I?”
Porthos coughed. “Clearly, Rand, your experiences here have been so positive that your memories of anything else pale in comparison. You must be keeping those memories buried deep in your mind, lest they interrupt the enjoyable times you’re having here.”
Fil could almost hear Rand’s head nodding in blissful acceptance of Porthos’ words. “Perhaps,” he replied, his eyes on the Hunter. “But one would think a simple question could still be answered without ruining whatever delightful experiences one might have on an island in the south Pacific.”
“Is that where we are?” Rand asked. “I’d never realized that.” Fil could sense the frown forming on the man’s face. “I can’t remember even thinking about that.”
Fil glanced at Porthos. Porthos glared back.
The chime sounded, noting their arrival at the penthouse level occupied by Arthur Lowell. The doors opened and Porthos exited, followed by Fil and the eager guard. They headed left, toward an open office with a massive black walnut desk. Arthur Lowell looked up from the desk, stood, and stared at Fil.
Fil offered a bemused smile.
He heard movement behind him and felt the weapon leave his shoulders, felt the grip on his shoulder loosen and fall away. He turned around, a powerful sense of dread forming deep in his stomach.
Abaddon the Assassin stood there. He’d seized the guard around the shoulders and had a long, gleaming knife pressed to the man’s throat.
“Hello, Fil Trask.” he hissed. “We meet again.”
XIV
ADAM WALKED OUT OF THE room, rubbing his nose. “I’d say it works, then.”
Gena laughed.
The Aliomenti prisons were the most notable form of Energy deprivation chambers in existence. Those prison cells crushed Energy, preventing its creation and expenditure in the enclosed space. Energy circulation ranked near breathing for users in terms of critical bodily functions, and the full suppression generally caused severe physical harm. The escaped prisoners often required years of physical rehabilitation before regaining full vitality. The Alliance wanted the ability to trap Aliomenti, but had no interest in inflicting such harm on their Energy “cousins.”
The Assassin’s “home” in the camp where young Will Stark lived during his brief future stay marked the field test of their best technology developed to date. They’d observed the man inside his cell, watched as he’d freely used and generated Energy, but had been unable to move Energy through the walls. He could teleport within the room, but not outside. He couldn’t send or receive telepathic messages while inside the room.
They’d reproduced the technology on a larger scale inside the Cavern. Adam, a far stronger Energy user than the Assassin, had offered to test the technology. He, like the Assassin, had attempted to teleport outside the sealed room, and found himself reforming with his face smashed against the wall.
Gena tweaked his nose. Adam growled at her, mixing the laughter at her action with the small whimper of pain for his still-sore nose. “Did you turn the power off?”
Gena nodded. “They should be able to get inside now. We need to be ready to flip the switch, though.”
Adam gave his nose a final rub. “Now it becomes a waiting game.”
They’d supplemented the miniature generators housed in each nano used to trap the Assassin. That had worked for a single Aliomenti, and one not terribly powerful. For an entire fleet, they’d need far, far more. They’d redirected huge amounts of electrical energy from the Cavern’s generators, available at the flip of a switch. They wanted the invaders teleporting into the room. The switch was nearby, ready, available to finalize the trap if their spy did his job and brought the fleet in as planned.
The sensors had picked up the fleet the day before, and they’d watched as the submarines methodically tested a vertical column of space miles north of the Cavern tunnel. After a brief rest, the fleet expanded the search and finally mo
ved toward the tunnel, slowly and surely.
Angel and Charlie had watched the unfolding drama with them. They’d each offered several theories on how the Aliomenti would find the Cavern. The search patterns provided the answer.
“It’s the Energy,” Angel concluded. “We’ve released a great deal of Energy as we’ve teleported between the subs and the pods. We didn’t think it mattered because we minimized the distance traveled. But those small bits of Energy added up over time and eventually reached the surface. Porthos must have detected the first Energy to surface above the water, and the fleet traced it from there back to the tunnel.”
Gena nodded. “That makes a lot of sense, Angel.” She started walking. “I suppose this is it, then. We should make sure we’re ready to greet our spy.”
They walked to the Beach and waited. Twenty minutes later, Scott teleported to the sand and glanced around, nodding as he saw the group there to meet him. “Is everything ready?”
Adam nodded. “We’re prepared. Gena and I will remain here to help monitor the prisoners.”
Charlie glanced at Scott. “You sold them on the plan, then?”
Scott nodded. “It wasn’t too difficult. They thought of a few other options—with some prompting by me—and realized those approaches wouldn’t work. I volunteered to ride aboard a pod by myself, arguing it wouldn’t draw as much interest since it was just one person.”
Gena rolled her eyes. “Seriously? Do they really think we don’t know they’re out there? We’re going to watch everything.”
Scott shrugged. “Athos was so eager to get everyone inside that anything even slightly plausible sounded like sheer genius to him. He’s more worried that I’ll die and he’ll have to force someone else to do the same thing.” He glanced at a watch on his wrist. “I should probably send the image for teleportation soon or they might start to panic.”
They jogged quickly to the “guest quarters” and Scott went inside to ensure he’d send a perfect image. Scott transmitted the image and teleported out of the large room, rejoining his welcoming committee.
They stood, watching screens built into the walls of the room which displayed the scene inside. All of them waited for the appearance of the Aliomenti invaders.
Adam glanced at Scott. “Just out of curiosity… what do you think would happen if you hadn’t transmitted that image?”
Scott shrugged. “Not sure. The troops might mutiny, the fleet might sail back to Headquarters, or they might throw caution to the wind and try to sneak everyone aboard the spheres at once.” He glanced at Adam. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m wondering if the better strategy might have been letting them think you’d been captured if mutiny was an option.”
Angel shook her head. “Too much risk, though. There’s a larger chance they sail back to Headquarters and join the fight there. We want them trapped here.” She frowned. “And if they have torpedoes, they might elect to fire a few into the tunnel. The percussive effects might collapse the Cavern and kill everyone inside.”
Adam shuddered.
“That approach was suggested,” Scott said. “But the general consensus was that the Alliance would have stabilized and reinforced their underground hideout to prevent just such an outcome.” Scott shrugged. “Angel’s assessment seems spot on from what I’ve seen. Our best approach is to follow the original plan and let them enter the Cavern so we can trap and control them here, rather than suffer the unknown consequence of leaving them outside.”
Movement on the screen captured their collective attention.
Athos appeared in the room, his scar standing out on a face filled with triumph. Additional Aliomenti followed at regular intervals, seconds apart, until the entire invading fleet congregated inside the room. The men looked around, faces full of malice and eager anticipation, ready to do battle with the enemy.
Scott confirmed all the Aliomenti were in place.
Gena flipped the switch, powering up the room, and though they didn’t know it, the Aliomenti were trapped inside.
Adam looked at each of them in turn. “Well… that was fairly straightforward. I hope things are going this smoothly at Headquarters.”
They chuckled. Scott nodded toward the screen. “I should probably let them know what’s happening.”
The others nodded and stepped away. Scott moved to the wall and tapped on the screen, activating the external camera. A bright light illuminated his face, indicating that his projected image now appeared inside the room upon each wall. The microphone embedded into the wall near the camera would capture and relay his voice inside. Scott smoothed his hair before he spoke.
“Hello, everyone. This is Scott. I regret to inform you that your invasion has ended before it began. You see, I joined the Aliomenti after first joining the Alliance. I masked my Energy skill and blocked my memories to ensure you’d never know. I subtly ensured I was part of the submarine construction and planning efforts that led to our journey of the past few days. And I helped guide our conversations on courses of action. That included ensuring that I entered the Alliance base alone and provided to you a single spot for teleporting inside this space.”
They watched as the faces of Athos and the others registered first shock, then bewilderment. They’d not yet fully registered what Scott was saying.
“We’ve done quite a bit of work here in the Alliance labs. One of our more impressive technologies truly blocks all Energy transfer in whatever form outside a controlled space. While the Energy containment in the Aliomenti prisons restrains Energy—similar to what the Hunter Aramis does—it cannot prevent a sufficiently powerful Energy user from sending telepathic signals for help or teleporting away. The technology employed in every molecule of the room you find yourselves in does just that.”
He glanced over at the quartet. “Simply put, you’re trapped. You cannot signal for help; no one will hear you. You cannot teleport away; your efforts will be thwarted. I recommend that you take this opportunity to rest, perhaps share some stories of interest. Meals will be provided to you, but you will otherwise not participate in the war for dominance between Alliance and Aliomenti. You will be trapped as the two sides converge for battle.”
He tapped the wall. The lighting from the camera ended, indicating that the exterior camera no longer displayed images inside, nor did the exterior microphone capture their words. They watched and listened as realization dawned on the faces of the men inside the room. The voices began as murmurs and escalated into screams and shouts of rage, all directed at Athos, who shouted at the men to stand down and leave him alone. They shunned their leader, stalking away, leaving him isolated even in a relatively small space. Though the emotive Energy couldn’t travel through walls any more than other Energy types, they could see fear and fury in the faces of the men inside.
Angel smiled and turned to Charlie. “Looks like we’ve gone and ruined all chances for excitement here, then. Shall we head to Eden?”
Charlie nodded. “It’s time.”
They said their goodbyes to those left behind and then headed out to gather their final supplies before transporting themselves to Eden.
Gena took Adam’s hand and pulled him aside into a quiet corridor, away from Scott.
He blinked in surprise as she kissed him.
He pulled away. “Gena… it’s not… don’t do this to yourself. You deserve better than me.”
She stared at him. “Adam, you’ve been telling me that for decades. I’ve seen you, I know you, I understand what motivates and drives you. I hope I deserve you. Stop with the unworthiness tripe.” She scowled as her voice choked with emotion, clearly trying to avoid the tears that always came when he pushed her away in subtle and not-so-subtle ways. “I love you. Why isn’t that enough?”
He shook his head, his face tight in a depth of agony she’d never before seen. “You don’t know the real me. Trust me. You’re better off staying away. You deserve the best. I’m not the one.”
“I think I can make my own dec
ision on that front, Adam. What can I possibly not know about you by now?”
Adam shook his head. “What you don’t know is… it’s best that you never know. Trust me. Please.”
He turned to walk away.
She seized his arm. “Don’t you dare walk away from me. Tell me!”
He hesitated, his face marred in pain, and yet there was a longing there. “Gena… once you know… you can’t unknow.”
She folded her arms. “I understand. Tell me.”
And he did, watching the shock etch its way across her face as he did so, wondering if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his long life.
XV
FIL FELT HIS MUSCLES LOCK up and his breathing turned shallow. He’d last seen those manic, red-streaked eyes from afar, through a computer screen. He’d watched as the eyes turned joyful as the knives plunged into the hearts of those he loved, rending his own heart in the process. Abaddon’s eyes were cruel, merciless eyes that prevented peaceful slumber.
Now he was face-to-face with the cause of his greatest torment.
His only solace came in knowing the man could take nothing greater from him than what he’d already stolen.
His strength came in the thought that today he’d have the opportunity to inflict his revenge.
But not yet.
He calmed his breathing, rolled his eyes in an act of dismissive boredom, and turned back to face the Leader.
The man had moved to sit upon the front of the massive desk, watching him, his eyes calculating and appraising. “Interesting.”
Fil cocked his head. “What’s interesting?”
Arthur picked up a glass of water and took a sip. “I’d been under the mistaken impression that the Alliance cared for humans. Yet you seem entirely unconcerned that this guard is in grave peril, standing near you with a knife pressed against his throat by a man you know is capable of spilling blood. I’m… disappointed.”
Fil didn’t take his gaze off Arthur. “I concern myself only with legitimate threats.”
Convergence Page 9