Convergence

by Alex Albrinck

  The Alliance fighter elected to take advantage of the Aliomenti infighting and took a swing at the man he’d been fighting. Victor swung his blade and parried that blow as well.

  “No!”

  A new combatant entered the arena in a burst of Energy, followed by a shorter burst as he teleported near the trio of fighters. “I won’t let you kill any more of my people, Hunter!”

  The man drew his sword and swung the blade with great ferocity, his intensity enhanced by his relative lack of muscle fatigue. Victor parried the blow, but made no effort to offer his own offensive thrust. “I will not kill anyone, friend,” he said. “I’m no longer your enemy.”

  The man looked upon Victor with a curious look, daring to believe the truth in the words spoken.

  The man’s body convulsed. His eyes widened in pain and horror as the Aliomenti fighter thrust his blade, unblocked, through the belly of the newcomer, a triumphant sneer upon his face. The look lasted for only a second. The Alliance fighter ran his own blade through the killer.

  The two men fell to the ground. Victor stared at both in horror. Was he at fault for the deaths at his feet?

  The rugged-looking Alliance survivor glared at Victor. He held his weapon in a defensive pose, but made no move to attack. His eyes narrowed. “I want to believe you, Hunter. Your Energy says you speak the truth. Prove to me that what you say is true, that you want an end to the fighting and peace. Lay down your sword.”

  Victor crouched down, maintaining eye contact the entire time, and placed his sword on the ground. He returned to his full height.

  The man struck him on the side of the head with the hilt of his sword, knocking Victor unconscious. The world went dark, sparing him the emotional tsunami of despair that swept the building seconds later.

  XXXIII

  SILENCE FILLED THE ROOM AS the eyes of the living fell upon one of their own. They waited as he let his tears flow, unable to control the genuine grief. Will took a hesitant step forward, but held back, unwilling to disrupt his long-time friend. He opted instead to move to Hope and help her on her still-unsteady legs as her Energy stores replenished. Her eyes still showed pain, but the brief eye flick in his direction told him all he needed to know after so many centuries together.

  She wasn’t prepared to discuss Arthur’s final message. Not yet.

  Will turned back toward Adam and Eva. He felt his own grief at the immense loss of life in just this room, and wondered if the casualty count had reached a comparable volume in the lower levels. Porthos, still pinned to the ceiling in a net that sapped his Energy power, watched the proceedings, as confused about the words he’d heard as the rest of them.

  Had he heard Adam correctly? Had he imagined the words? He looked at Hope, his brow creased in confusion, and read in her expression a similar bafflement.

  A faint klaxon sounded in the distance, and he felt standard gravity return. His body rested atop his legs, and he tightened his grip on Hope as she staggered briefly. They heard a terrified shout, and Will saw Porthos plunge from the ceiling. Anna’s outstretched hand slowed him until he reached a height just a few feet off the ground, and then she let him fall the rest of the way. Porthos grunted in pain on contact.

  Adam’s tears began to subside at long last, and the temperature in the room began to rise. He sensed the eyes upon him and turned around, seeing upon the faces looks of grief at Eva’s loss and complete confusion. He looked down at Eva once more before looking at those in the room, a confused look forming on his face.

  “We heard what you said,” Sarah said. Her voice was gentle, giving him the understanding that he need not fear their reaction as he offered his explanations.

  “What did I say?” Adam asked. He frowned, searching through his memory of the past few seconds before realization dawned. “Oh. You all heard that, then.” He glanced at Will.

  Will nodded.

  Adam sighed. “I guess I knew the truth would come out at some point.” He glanced back at Eva. “I just wish… I wish this wasn’t that time.”

  Will bit his lip, uncertain of what he should say. “Adam, if what you said is true, then… well, first of all, is it true?”

  Adam sighed. “Yes, it’s true.” He glanced down at Eva, and the mournful sadness returned. “She’s my mother.”

  The deep, awkward silence returned to the room. Anna tapped her foot nervously, then moved to Porthos, pulled a capped syringe from her pocket, and jabbed it into the squirming man. “Might as well take care of that now,” she muttered, shrugging her shoulders at the awkward looks greeting her actions. Porthos fired several epithets her way, and she zapped him with bolts of Energy that silenced him as she walked back to her mother and father.

  Adam kissed Eva’s forehead and gently closed her eyes before resting her gently upon the ground. He then stood up and looked around. “This reaction is the reason they never told any of you the truth.”

  Hope winced. “Adam, I’m sorry, I just… they were… and you… you’re…”

  Adam offered her a gentle look. “I’m what, Hope?”

  “I don’t know the word, but…”

  Adam sighed. “I don’t know if there’s a word for what you’re thinking,” he said. He shuddered once more. “You’d think you’d be more prepared to deal with someone’s death when they’re thousands of years old, but it’s not true.” He shook his head. “None of what you think is true about her or about me.”

  “You’re never prepared for the loss of those you… care…” Will paused. “Wait. What’s not true? And did you say thousands of years old?”

  Adam clasped his fingers behind his back and began pacing. “There’s a lot that all of you need to know, but I guess we need to figure out the starting point.” He turned toward Sarah and Anna. “Are you aware of the reason there’s such deep concern about the identity of my mother?”

  Sarah nodded, her face in a tight, faint smile. “Because your parents were siblings.”

  Adam looked at Will. “That’s the part that’s not true. They aren’t related. At all.” He looked back at Eva, and another tear escaped his eye. “They weren’t related, I should say.”

  Will felt his jaw fall open, and he stood in that pose until Hope gently elbowed him in the ribs. “But she called him her brother from the first time she referenced him. She told me that the last Traveler out in the world was her brother. When the elder Adam returned, he referred to her as his sister. She told me that her brother was one of the most vocal about protecting Elizabeth—or Hope, as we know here today. But… why? Why the… the misdirection? Why tell everyone they were brother and sister when they weren’t?”

  Adam had stopped pacing as he listened to Will’s summation and questions. He resumed as he tried to answer. “I’ve been told the history many times, why it is, exactly, that they felt the need to spread the sibling rumor. I’m still struggling with it myself, but I’ll do the best I can to explain what I know.” He paused. “All of you probably know that the first of those we eventually came to know as the Aliomenti were slaves who escaped captivity. There were ten in the beginning, and while each of them was interesting in their own right, there are only four who matter. My father, Adam. My mother, Eva.” He hesitated just a moment as he allowed the involuntary twitching by those in the room to finish. “Arthur Lowell, a man some of you know as The Leader.” He glanced at the prone form of Porthos the Hunter. Porthos blinked in surprise. “And Genevieve.” He looked at Hope. “Your mother.”

  Hope’s eyes snapped alert at the mention of her mother’s name, a hungry look replacing the face of despondence she’d worn since Arthur’s parting words.

  “None of the four were actually born in slavery, and the methods of their eventual enslavement aren’t terribly important right now. What is important is that, from the perspective of the other six, those four arrived as a group. For all the other six knew, those four had been together for years.” He hesitated.

  “But that wasn’t the case,” Fil said. “Was it?”r />
  Adam shook his head. “No. It wasn’t.” He paused briefly. “What’s equally important to the story is that within that miniature family, there were two other groupings that had a similar affiliation. Arthur and Genevieve were a pair, as were Adam and Eva. The quartet were a very complementary group in terms of personality types and skill sets. Arthur was the visionary, the schemer and motivator.” Will couldn’t help but snort at that. Adam’s face curled into a faint smile. “Adam, my father, was the impulsive one, full of passion and energy. Eva was the sensible one, cautious, full of logical restraint. And Genevieve was the glue that held them together, the one who kept the three powerful personalities in line. There were plenty of clashes. Adam and Arthur fought. A lot. People began to think them blood brothers, because though they’d fight and beat each other up, they’d end up laughing, usually calmed down by Genevieve. Eva clashed with both men, because she thought Arthur’s dreams foolish and Adam’s impulsiveness irresponsible.” He sighed. “When the ten fled and settled in what we now call the North Village, Adam and Arthur were, oddly enough, seen as the most… well, the women were more interested in the two of them than the other men. That’s the true reason they all agreed to avoid committed relationships. They didn’t want breakups to shatter the small group, and they didn’t want infighting as everyone fought to pair up.”

  Adam looked around, and found the faces curious, non-judgmental, and he nodded, obvious relief on his face as he related a story he knew they’d find difficult. “My mother found my father quite attractive. My father, though, wanted nothing to do with her. She persisted in making him aware of her feelings, tried to do everything to win his heart even in the face of the rules they’d followed since the beginning, rules they retained even as that initial group stabilized and began to grow through a controlled influx of new villagers.” He sighed. “Mom was acting in some type of flirtatious manner, and Dad was talking with some of the newer guys, and… well, they were teasing him about her attention. My father had finally grown tired of it. He told the men around him—loudly—that they were misinterpreting her actions, because of course his own sister wouldn’t flirt with him.”

  The room stilled. Angel appeared at that moment, and in quiet she found her mother. Not wanting to wait the time it would take to walk, Angel teleported to Hope’s side and into her arms, sobbing. Hope held her daughter for what seemed like the first time ever. Angel smiled around at the others before noticing Eva’s lifeless form. Her eyes widened, and she turned to her mother for an explanation. Hope stared at her intently, getting her caught up on everything. Seconds later, Angel turned to Adam and nodded.

  Adam smiled briefly at Angel before he took on a more serious look. “She was devastated by his words. Imagine the person you loved making a public statement that would prevent you from any opportunity to be together. She could argue the point, of course, tell everyone the truth that they weren’t blood relatives at all. But to do so would generate two more problems, the critical being that she’d have to call him a liar. And why would he want to be with someone who publicly called him a liar?”

  Anna looked at Sarah. “What was the other—?”

  “She took the whole thing well, forced a laugh, smiled, and chided the men for their inappropriate assumptions about her. She waited until she’d gotten back to her room before she cried herself to sleep. But she forced herself through her rather indomitable will to convince herself that he’d spoken the truth. Among other things, she avoided using his name unless forced to do so, always referring to him as her brother.” He looked at Will. “You mentioned she’d told you things about her brother, but did she ever tell you his name?”

  Will thought about it and realized Adam was correct. “I never knew it was him until the missing Traveler returned and I realized it was you. Well, not you personally, of course. She’d never told me his name, though. I remember thinking it was odd at the time, but never pushed her as to the reason why she’d never mentioned his name.”

  Adam nodded. “And now you know why. She was still fighting to maintain the illusion, and even after all of the original people died, including those who met their end at the hands of my highly irrational and impulsive father—” he grimaced at the inference to his father’s immolation of the original North Village “—it had become so ingrained in even their minds that they simply kept up the ruse. When I arrived, it caused issues until I grew to look like my father’s twin. The public story was that my mother had died and that my father and I lived with his sister.” He sighed. “Even I didn’t know the truth until I was thirty or forty years old. They made me swear that I’d never tell anyone, because they eventually became ashamed that they’d deceived their friends for such a long time. They didn’t want to face judgment for what they’d done. I could only reveal the truth if they both agreed to end the silence… or…” He glanced at Eva’s body and his eyes misted once more.

  Hope opened her mouth to ask a question, but the query died in her throat.

  Angel’s body stiffened as her eyes opened wide, her face tightening in pain and turning pale. And then she screamed the most bloodcurdling scream of horror and despair that any of them had ever heard.

  Fil read her thoughts and recognized the source of her agony. He choked back tears of his own as he concentrated, sending out tendrils of Energy to the source of his sister’s mournful cries. They’d never questioned the fact that Angel had come here. Her family knew her well, and knew that while she’d not skirt her duties, she’d not hesitate to come here as soon as she could. Fil knew Angel’s greatest wish—outside everyone’s survival—was seeing their mother once more, seeing her at last restored to full health. And they’d shared that joyous embrace.

  But Fil knew Angel’s husband too well to think the man would allow his wife—his pregnant wife—to move to the location of the fiercest fighting without accompanying her.

  Angel had come here.

  Charlie had not. Charlie had moved below, to assess the state of the fighting, to see what he could do to help.

  Fil tensed his face as his Energy surrounded his target and pulled the Energy back.

  Angel left Hope’s side, stumbling forward in a deep state of mourning, throwing herself upon her husband, a man who’d been thrust into danger only at her insistence on traveling here.

  Angel wrapped her arms around Charlie’s body, her body heaving with wracked sobs, as those around her could do nothing but watch her suffering.

  XXXIV

  HE WOKE TO RELATIVE SILENCE, his head throbbing at the spot where the Alliance man struck him. Victor reached a hand toward the lump and touched it gingerly. He groaned, and inhaled the prevailing scent of coppery blood and death. He winced before opening his eyes and sitting up. He heard a clattering sound as his sword fell from his chest and rattled to the ground. He accepted that as a symbol of trust by the man who’d attacked him, a belief that the former Hunter would do nothing to resume the combat activity.

  Before he’d declared his pacifism, he remembered little but the sounds of clanging metal and cries of pain, the smell of blood, and a heavy dust hanging in the air after the collapse of several underground levels within Headquarters.

  Now, he heard silence broken only by the quiet murmur of conversation. The dusty haze in the air now littered the ground atop the piles of rubble. The dead were everywhere, and those who couldn’t seem to decide what else to do had taken to pulverizing the rubble away in a section of the floor. They levitated the bodies of the dead to the cleared space for later identification.

  He didn’t try to count the bodies, knowing only that it was a staggering percentage of the Energy users who’d entered the building at some point this day. He remembered Adam’s explanation of one aspect of the plan, preventing outbound communication from Headquarters to prevent a mayday signal from bringing in more fighters. He appreciated that plan—and the sacrifice of the woman named Ashley who’d made it happen—as a means of limiting the fighting, but more critically minimizing th
e numbers of the dead. If new waves of fighters arrived now, unwearied by the hours of combat already complete, the massacre would begin anew.

  He rose to his feet, ignoring the gentle throbbing of the lump on the side of his head and moved into the more open part of the floor, where the loudest tones of conversation originated. His boots stuck to the large portions of the rubble he climbed, not because of magnetism, but because of the blood now congealed there. He yanked his boots free as needed, wondering if the blood slowing him down belonged to Alliance or Aliomenti, and chiding himself for thinking that it mattered.

  He moved among those conversing, recognizing a few whose names he’d never learned. The conversations between those who’d fought throughout the day were strained but not unfriendly. It was similar to his conversation with Adam after the medicine took effect. He’d woken in a sort of mental haze as if from a dream, as though every act and word and decision since joining Arthur Lowell was part of another man’s existence. It took a good deal of time for those masked memories to unveil, for him to remember everything. The strain in the conversation came from the realization that the circumstances of existence described by the invaders were completely true. The confusion of a life not truly lived couldn’t be overcome with just a few moments reflection.

  He saw the faces turn his way as he moved through the crowds of chatting survivors. None of those faces bore looks of happiness. Many showed disappointment, as if they’d prefer he be among the dead rather than a fallen friend. He swallowed. He still had Energy, and he knew there was sufficient anger in this room—from former friend and former foe alike—to spark and see that wish fulfilled.

  He kept his eyes low and continued to move.

  He spotted the man who’d knocked him unconscious and headed that way. He’d seemed to be something of a commanding officer among the visitors.

  The man looked up, his face expressionless. “You’re awake.” Victor couldn’t tell if the words bore a hint of disappointment in the statement or not. The man hid his emotions well.