Eyes of the World (Gray Spear Society Book 10)

by Alex Siegel

  Walker clenched his jaw. The asshole wants to gloat, he thought. "Put him through."

  Erika hurried over. She leaned close so she could overhear the conversation. He wanted to send her away, but he couldn't. Technically, he still worked for her.

  He grabbed his phone off his desk and pressed it against his ear. "Are we going to have a conversation after every phase of this damned battle?"

  "Why not?" the Lord said. "You have better things to do?"

  "As a matter of fact..."

  "I actually have a specific question. Is Erika Navarro there?"

  Walker was shocked. He turned to Erika. Her mouth was open, and her face had lost some color.

  "I'll take your silence as a yes. Please, let me speak with her."

  Walker numbly handed the phone to her.

  "What do you want?" she said softly.

  "I just wanted to let you know we're coming for you," the Lord said. "Enjoy your final hours of freedom."

  She swallowed. "Are you still in the hotel?"

  "Of course. Top floor. That would be the floor without the nerve gas. I have to congratulate you on having such a fine army. The soldiers were doing an expert job of searching the place right up until the moment they died. We'll see if the next batch does as well."

  Erika handed the phone back to Walker. She walked away on stiff legs.

  "You're going down," he barked into the phone. "I still have a large force available, and you're running out of tricks."

  "I may have two or three left. It's not too late to give up. If you prove useful to me, I might let you live. That offer won't be on the table for much longer."

  "Not a chance."

  "Suit yourself," the Lord said.

  There was a click.

  * * *

  Norbert watched the twins and sighed. They were fussing with the aperture. They had fixed defects all day long, and the damn thing still refused to work properly. It seemed to be fighting them every step of the way.

  Their robotic faces exhibited little emotion, but their human bodies showed signs of stress. Their movements were stiff and sluggish. Communication with other people had been reduced to one-word sentences.

  Just hang in there, girls, Norbert thought. You're almost at the finish line.

  He looked around the big, open basement. Everybody else was chatting with each other in small groups. There wasn't much else to do. Nobody was allowed to leave for fear of attracting attention. It had become an occasion for the members of the new Society to get to know each other.

  The universal topic of conversation was what would happen when they went through the aperture. There was wild speculation about how their bodies would look and feel once they were immortal. Some had hypothesized they would become ghost-like. Others believed their flesh would become hard and impervious. Wesley just smiled when he heard these theories.

  Norbert noticed Hanley was on his hands and knees. The San Franciscan legionnaire always had a fierce expression on his face. His short, black, curly hair added to the impression of ferocity. He wasn't as big as some other male legionnaires, but he looked very tough. He was sweeping his palms across the tiled floor.

  Norbert came over. "What are you doing?"

  "Searching for buried treasure," Hanley said.

  "Huh?"

  Hanley held up his hands. He had circular, red pads of flesh in the centers of each palm.

  "I have echo-location," he said. "If you want to help, you can grab a hammer and tap the floor. Sharp sounds reflect better."

  Norbert walked over to some tables in the center of the room. A lot of tools and equipment had been moved from the Rosemont Tower Hotel along with the aperture. Nancy had set up a little "shop" area. She was working with the scientists to repair a defective part.

  Norbert grabbed a hammer. He went back to Hanley and began tapping the floor. The metal tiles responded with high-pitched pings.

  "Lightly," Hanley said. "My palms are sensitive to the slightest noise."

  "You really think you'll find treasure?"

  "It gives me something to do besides worry. The aperture scares me."

  "It should," Norbert said. "It will punch a hole in space and time, and we'll go through the hole."

  As a team, they moved systematically across the floor. He was also glad for a distraction from the stress. The regular tapping of the hammer was soothing.

  "Somebody told me you love the twins," Hanley said.

  Norbert nodded. "We've been in a relationship since they joined the Society."

  "Both of them?"

  "They do everything together."

  "I see." Hanley winked.

  "It's not quite as exciting as you think. Sex with Bethany and Leanna is a very formal, scripted affair. It's almost ceremonial. Still, I wouldn't give it up for anything. I wonder how we'll make love after this. Will it be more of a spiritual experience? A mingling of eternal souls?"

  Hanley shrugged. "Who knows?" He furrowed his brow and looked at the floor. "Tap a little harder."

  Norbert tapped his hammer several times. "What is it?"

  "There is something down there. It's a big opening like a cave full of air."

  "I doubt that. We're below the water table. A river runs right by this building."

  "I know what I hear," Hanley said.

  Norbert went over to Nancy. Even though she was working intently, she had a smile on her round face. Her brown, frizzy hair was cut short, but he preferred it a little longer. It was more fun that way. She was wearing blue coveralls and work boots.

  "Nancy," he said, "is there a cave under this room?"

  She shook her head. "No. Just sand and mud."

  "Hanley disagrees."

  She frowned and walked over to Hanley.

  "I can hear a big opening directly below." He pointed at the floor.

  "You must be hearing things," she said. "It's just wet muck down there. We had a hell of a time repairing the foundations of this building. It was constructed on a marsh."

  "I'm right. Is there any way we can know for sure?"

  Wesley walked over. His amazing blue eyes sparkled in the bright lights. He was still wearing his fancy, white suit and black dress shoes.

  "I know a way," he said. "The legate of Africa can make a hole for us."

  He went across the room and tugged the hand of the legate of Africa. His skin was dark brown and marked with age spots. His hair was pure white, and he had a bald spot on top. He was wearing formal, gray robes which fit his dignified appearance.

  The legate came over. "How may I be of assistance?" His voice was soft and pleasant.

  "There is something directly below, sir," Hanley said. "I think it's a cave."

  "Step back."

  Everybody moved back.

  The legate rubbed his hands together, and then shoved his fingers into the floor. Norbert couldn't believe his eyes. The metal tiles were made of a super-strong alloy, and there was two feet of concrete beneath the tiles. The legate pulled his hands apart as if he were opening a curtain. A passage appeared going down at a steep angle. He apparently had the ability to separate solid matter. Norbert could see the wet walls of the tunnel, but water wasn't entering the hole.

  "That's incredible, sir!" he said. "You just tore the ground apart like it was nothing."

  "Actually, the ground is intact," the legate said. "My gift is making extra room where it doesn't normally exist. It's a temporary rearrangement of space. Go down. I'll hold the tunnel open."

  A crowd was slowly gathering. Everybody was curious to see what the excitement was about.

  Norbert and Hanley went down the hole. Norbert pressed his hands against the top and his feet against the bottom to keep from falling. The surfaces looked wet and soft, but they were smooth and hard to the touch.

  "Can somebody toss down a flashlight?" Norbert said.

  After a moment, he caught a flashlight and continued down. To his delight, he discovered that Hanley was right. There was a chamber below, and
the two men dropped into it. The air was stale but breathable.

  Norbert shined his flashlight all around. He was in a small room with stone walls, a stone floor, and a stone ceiling. Great blocks of stone fit together tightly, and some kind of natural gum filled the tiny gaps. It had been made watertight using ancient technology.

  Beautiful artifacts were neatly arranged on wooden shelves. Most of it was silver jewelry, but there was some gold, too. Rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and turquoise were embedded in the metal. The designs included abstract representations of rainbows and suns. Norbert guessed it was Native American.

  A tall, wooden chair stood against a wall, and a skeleton was sitting in the chair. All the flesh was gone, but somehow, the body had maintained a dignified posture. It was wearing a crown.

  Norbert moved in for a closer look. The workmanship was spectacular. Elaborate battle scenes were etched into the silver surface. Blood was shown with rubies. Eagles flew in the skies above. Polished obsidian formed a border around each gruesome portrayal. Strands of gold were cleverly woven into the silver.

  "Amazing," Hanley said. "We should bring it back up."

  Norbert frowned. "That's like robbing a grave."

  "I have a feeling we were supposed to find this. I somehow knew something was down here."

  Hanley gently removed the crown from the white skull. The skeleton immediately crumbled and shattered on the floor.

  He called for a rope, and the end of one was tossed down. The two men pulled themselves back up the hole. Hanley wore the crown so his hands would be free.

  They emerged into the brightly lit basement of the Chinatown building. The African legate pulled his hands back, and the hole snapped shut. There wasn't even a crack to show where it had been.

  Hanley displayed his prize to the crowd. There were exclamations of approval all around.

  "I know what that is," Sight said. "I read about it in the tabella."

  The legate of South Asia came forward. The third eye in the center of his forehead was wide open.

  "What?" Hanley said.

  "The original crown of North America."

  Hanley cocked his head.

  "All the legates used to wear crowns," Sight said. "It was a tradition until the mid-nineteenth century. When Native Americans controlled this continent, their legate wore this crown. The European settlers thought it looked barbaric, so they made a new crown. The matter ended in bloodshed, and the natives lost. They obviously buried this crown afterwards to keep it safe."

  "It was sitting on the head of a skeleton."

  Sight nodded. "That was probably Black Deer, the legate at the time. According to the tabella, he had supernatural wisdom." Sight looked around. "It can't be a coincidence that his grave is here. He probably knew this was a place of enormous significance."

  Marina came over. Unlike the legates, she was dressed for battle. She had worn her advanced body armor all day even though it wasn't the most comfortable attire. She hadn't bothered with a helmet though. Her red-blonde hair flowed naturally across her shoulders. Her jade-colored eyes were very pretty in the bright light.

  She took the crown and studied it. "It's beautiful. Those damn Europeans had no idea what they were talking about. Hey, what's this?" She examined one of the panels closely. "It looks like me and Aaron!"

  She passed the crown around. When Norbert got his turn, he saw she was right. The portrayal was overly simplistic but unmistakable. Tiny emeralds were used for Marina's eyes. Aaron's eyes were made of black diamonds.

  Sight smiled. "I think you should wear the crown, ma'am. You would be honoring the memory of Black Deer, one of the great legates of North America."

  "Sure." Marina put the crown on her head, and it fit perfectly. "I love it."

  Several people bowed to her.

  She looked over at the twins and sighed. "How much longer is this going to take? Aaron can't hold out forever."

  * * *

  It had taken much longer to break the windows in the hotel than Walker had expected. It had turned out they were all bulletproof. The entire building was sheathed in thick, laminated glass. Regular guns were useless, and even powerful sniper rifles made only small holes. The Army had resorted to rockets, and it had taken every one available to break enough windows to air the place out.

  Walker could see the aftermath on the surveillance feed being displayed on the projection screens. The entire surface of the hotel was shattered and blackened. The interiors of many hotel rooms were exposed to the winter cold. He saw bodies through the openings. The building contained more corpses than a lot of cemeteries.

  He judged the nerve gas had more or less dissipated. Technically, a full decontamination procedure was necessary to remove any poisonous residue, but that would take days, and he didn't have days. If he sent in troops now without proper protective clothing, some of them would likely get sick. It was a risk he was willing to take.

  "Have the men form ranks," he ordered. "Prepare to enter the hotel."

  The officers and technicians got busy at their many control consoles.

  "Sir," one officer said, "we have an issue."

  Walker looked down. "What now?" he said in a tone of exasperation.

  "Some of the units are refusing to enter. They want more time to make sure it's safe."

  "Refusing my order?" Walker raised his eyebrows.

  "I'm afraid so, sir." The officer flinched.

  Walker clenched his jaw. This was the nightmare of every general throughout history. His ability to command depended on the troops' willingness to be commanded. If they were starting to lose faith in his leadership, he had a huge problem.

  "We don't need every unit to participate immediately," he said. "Some can wait at the back of the line and enter last, but let them know this incident will be recorded in their permanent record. The next time they're up for promotion, it will be discussed."

  It was a weak threat, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances. He didn't have time for formal hearings and disciplinary actions.

  "Yes, sir," the officer said.

  "Proceed with the attack when ready, and this time, enter more cautiously. I don't want too many soldiers in that death trap at once."

  * * *

  Aaron was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while he watched the action on Perry's computer monitors. The enemy had taken a long time to clear out the nerve gas and get organized again. Finally, it looked like they were ready to move.

  "May I use the gun turrets, sir?" Jack said.

  "Yes, at your discretion. Release a little more nerve gas now and then, too. That should keep them on their toes."

  Groups of soldiers were starting to enter the lobby again. They were staying in close formation and were glancing anxiously in all directions.

  The interior of the hotel was like a scene from a horror movie. Corpses were in almost every room, and the gas had left the bodies in contorted, unnatural positions. Internal surveillance cameras allowed Aaron to view the atrocity in brilliant high-resolution.

  The enemy quickly reached its first obstacle. The steel barriers were still in place, and there was no way to get around them. The soldiers would have to cut through three inches of solid steel to go forward.

  Some men ran back outside, and they were obviously fetching cutting tools. Other soldiers continued to filter into the hotel. Soon, a thick crowd had gathered in the hallway behind the barrier. Their body armor and weapons looked out of place amid the fine brass fixtures.

  Aaron couldn't hear anything, but he saw what happened next. A stream of bullets chewed up the enemy. Drop-down gun turrets were installed in key locations throughout the hotel. They were concealed until activated. Jack wielded the fearsome weapon with the accuracy and relentlessness that only a computer could muster. It didn't take long for him to turn the hallway into a crowded morgue.

  The men who had left eventually returned. They were pulling oxygen and acetylene tanks attached to a cutting torch. They
stopped and stared when they saw the unholy mess in the hallway.

  Jack shot them, too.

  Aaron sagged. He was very weary of witnessing undeserving people being slaughtered. His true enemy was still safely hidden away.

  "Jack," he said, "do you feel bad about killing? Does it bother you?"

  "I was programmed to protect this headquarters," Jack said. "Performing that function doesn't bother me."

  "But I'm sure the twins also programmed you to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

  "Yes, sir," Jack said. "According to my computations, these deaths are necessary."

  Aaron furrowed his brow. "I'm curious about the math you used to come to that conclusion."

  "You wouldn't understand it."

  "Probably not. I almost flunked out of calculus."

  Aaron watched the enemy struggle to make forward progress. After several bloody failures, they finally destroyed the gun turret with a satchel containing C-4. The soldiers picked their way over the piles of corpses to reach the steel barrier. They began to cut it.

  Aaron's phone rang. It took him a moment to recognize the vaguely familiar ID. The Dragon was calling.

  He put the phone to his ear. "Yes?"

  "We're still hiding in the woods, sir," the Dragon replied in a sharp tone.

  "I know. I haven't forgotten about you."

  "It's cold, wet, and boring."

  "Better than being hot and dead," Aaron said. "Don't worry. You'll get a chance to fight tonight. I'm saving you for the grand finale. Just stay out of sight until then."

  "When will the grand finale be?"

  He looked at the monitors. The soldiers were still working on the thick barrier. Even with the torch at full blast, it would take a while to cut that much steel.

  "At least a couple more hours," Aaron said. "You don't want to move until nightfall anyway. Darkness is an advantage for our side. In the meantime, enjoy the peace and quiet."

  "Yes, sir," the Dragon said. "We will wait for your order."

  Aaron hung up and dropped his phone into his pocket.

  "Give them a puff of nerve gas," he said.

  "Yes, sir," Jack said.

  Chapter Twenty-two