by S. S. Segran
“Speaking of light,” Tikina said, bumping shoulders with Nageau, “there is something else we want the four of you to know. Something special regarding the Tree of Life.”
Nageau’s mood seemed to lighten. “Yes, of course. I think you will be quite thrilled to learn that, in addition to healing victims of the harbinger’s virus, the tree will protect humanity from all diseases.”
“All diseases?” Mariah gasped.
“I should clarify. Diseases caused by external organisms that invade the body. Organisms that you call pathogens, such as viruses and bacteria.”
“This is going to change the lives of so many people around the world!” Aari exclaimed. “But it won’t cure other diseases?”
“I am afraid not,” Tikina said. “The Tree of Life will guard against external agents but it will not cure diseases that occur from a body’s internal imbalances.”
“Why not?”
“Everything in the universe exists in cycles and a state of equilibrium, our bodies included. Sometimes there are deviations that occur for reasons that we are yet to understand, the wisdom of which may remain unknown for a long time. Possibly even up to the end of our physical lives. At other times, this equilibrium is upset by our own doing. The choices we make for the sustenance and maintenance of our bodies have far-reaching implications that are beyond the power of the Tree of Life to prevent or cure.”
“Hey, if I never have the stomach flu again, that’s enough for me,” Kody said. “This tree is a blessing.”
“You’re right,” Tegan said. “It is a blessing. A gift from Dema-Ki to the world.”
“Well, from our ancestors, really,” Nageau amended. “This gift has remained hidden for centuries until you, the Chosen Ones, found it. And now it will be the beginning of your legacy to the world.”
In the ensuing silence, the immensity of the discovery of the seeds, their history and now their future, started to fully dawn on Kody. The effect this will have on each soul that survives the pandemic… holy smokes. It doesn’t matter who wins, Reyor or us—the world won’t be the same after this.
“Moving on to a focal matter,” Nageau continued. “The head of the hydra itself.”
Aari twiddled his thumbs. “Even when the cure goes out, there’s not a chance Reyor will stop, is there?”
Nageau indicated no and apprised the friends of Victor’s gleanings from his contact in the New Mexico Sanctuary. The teenagers listened attentively, then Kody raised his hand. “If they need your blood to populate the Sanctuaries, then is an attack on Dema-Ki imminent?”
“We are unsure,” Tikina said, “but even if it is not imminent, it is a certainty.”
“At the risk of coming across selfish,” Mariah said, “is Dema-Ki safe for our families?”
Nageau seemed to weigh his answer carefully. “This is the safest place for the time being. The Elders and I are already working on a contingency, so please do not let this trouble you.”
“Reyor’s coming here to build a breeding farm,” Aari said. “And that’s all there is to it?”
The other Elders raised their eyebrows at Nageau expectantly. The tall man rose from the divan and paced between the two groups. Kody narrowed his eyes. Uh oh. He never paces.
“There is something else,” Nageau relented. “It is an ancient quartz known as the black crystal. Mind you, this information is meant only for the Elders and Magèo. And soon Nal, as she is the one appointed to succeed Magèo. This crystal can alter a person’s lifespan, extending their longevity over centuries. As it is, our people live on average for a hundred-and-thirty years. We believe this is the other reason Reyor intends to infiltrate Dema-Ki. It seems to fit the harbinger’s plan to reshape the world and to live long enough to revel in it. This is all we know for now, but it is imperative that you never speak of this to anyone.”
“Hold up, rewind, and pause,” Kody said. “You live for how long?”
“Focus, Kody!”
Nageau’s reprimand didn’t stop the friends from eyeballing each other, thunderstruck. The Elder resumed his pacing. “We must halt this scourge at its source. We need to learn what it will take for you to stop Reyor. The lathe’ad is an astoundingly powerful object. Too powerful for this fiend to possess. I should have been more careful…”
“More careful about what?” Mariah asked.
“About ensuring that nothing had been stolen when I banished that monster. But it no longer matters. Reyor has it—has the lathe’ad. A terraforming device that can either bring life to a dead planet or death to a living one. And, obviously, we reside on the latter.”
Tikina grabbed Nageau by the arm and gave him a pointed look. He expelled a long breath, then smiled tiredly. The other Elders stood and the teenagers followed their lead. “We have kept you long enough from your families,” Nageau said, rueful.
“But where do the four of us go from here?” Tegan pressed.
“For now, stay with your parents and siblings,” Tikina advised. “We do not know how long this reprieve will last before the next wave begins.”
Aari stuck his hands deep into his pockets. “That can’t be all. Maybe we can help the Sentries locate the Heart. If we find it, we could find Jag.”
As his friends and the Elders conversed, Kody sat back down, elbows resting on his knees. He mindlessly followed a pattern on the marble floor, wanting to fight the destructive images, the fearful thoughts swarming in his mind. He knew it was the Omega strain yanking at his nerves, and he couldn’t fight its pull.
“What if Reyor’s right,” he said.
The conversation stopped. Kody felt all eyes on him.
“What was that, youngling?” Tikina murmured.
“What if Reyor’s right?” he repeated. “That as a species, we are inherently destructive? That we deserve what’s coming to us? That we’re Midas, except everything we touch turns to rot, not gold?”
Aari was aghast. “Dude.”
“Let me speak to Kody on this one, Aari,” Nageau said. “The answer to your question, youngling, depends on how you chose to view the world.”
“How do you view the world, Elder Nageau?” Kody asked.
“I choose to believe that human beings, as imperfect as we are, are remarkable creatures capable of love, sacrifice and compassion. Yet, we also bring so much strife and devastation upon ourselves. But sometimes, it is through these imperfections, these cracks, that the light gets in. We are still evolving as a species and I know our best days are ahead of us. And I do not necessarily mean this in the sense of our physical evolution, but rather an evolution of the human mind and spirit. What is the point of attaining higher physical progress if we do not have strength of the mind and wisdom of the spirit to guide us?”
“It is this evolution that we believe will turn the tide for humanity,” Tikina chimed in. “The understanding, acceptance and nurturing of our higher nature. The knowledge that we are all interconnected, living our fleeting material lives on a tiny blue speck in the universe in preparation for the next stage of our journey. The question that remains then, Kody, is this: How do you view the world?”
“I don’t think I have an answer,” Kody said.
“Yet,” Nageau added. Kody, though disbelieving, admired the man’s confidence.
The Elders left shortly after, and the friends trickled out after them. The four gathered around the colorful bloom of fire in the temple’s foyer, looking out at Dema-Ki as it glowed in the ambience of the night.
“Aari?” Tegan said. Aari hummed in response. “I’m not heartless. You know that, right?”
Aari shuffled closer to her to rest his chin on her shoulder. “I know. I’m sorry for what I said. I just don’t understand how you’re able to troop on, but I guess with your new role, you have to figure out how to go about this whole mess the best way. And truthfully, logically speaking, your path does make sense given the situation. Just don’t turn into the Terminatrix, okay? She spooked the bejeebers outta me in T-3.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll do my best, Brainiac.”
Kody noticed Mariah pointing her phone at the pair and sidled up to Tegan and Aari, shoving his face between them. He stuck his tongue out at Mariah, one eye closed in a wink. Mariah gave a lopsided smile and snapped a photo of the flames and her friends. As she gazed affectionately at the picture on her screen, she asked, “Well, what now?”
“Now,” Kody said, “we do what the Elders told us to. We enjoy what time we have with our families. Then, we strike Phoenix at its heart and get our brother back.”
The silence was unbearable, and though the room was scentless it still smelled clean. Overhead, an ultrahigh-definition screen took up the entire ceiling, displaying cotton-like clouds floating without a care against a cerulean backdrop.
Jag wanted to punch it.
Strapped to a white reclining chair like the kind in a dentist’s office, he was completely powerless in what Tony called the ‘CUBE’—a Center for Understanding, Betterment and Enlightenment. Or an indoctrination chamber, as Jag knew it really was. It was one among many, from what he understood.
He had awoken three days before with a silver silicon band fastened around his head. It locked together and extended down the back of his neck to wrap around his throat like a collar, making it impossible to remove. He could still turn his head from side to side but he hated the device’s constrictiveness. Tony called it an inhibitor, a tool Dr. Nate had perfected that suppressed special abilities without the use of drugs. Jag didn’t feel any ill side effects but the device certainly worked; he couldn’t break out of the leather restraints binding his wrists to the armrests, or use telepathy.
The floor-to-ceiling steel door opened and Tony walked into the ten-by-ten room. He wore a beige blazer, dark skinny jeans, and penny loafers. His jeans were rolled up at the hems to show off different-colored striped socks. He took a seat on a chair to Jag’s left, just a couple of feet away. His eyes flashed with something that the teenager didn’t like.
“You look like a cat that ate the canary,” Jag commented.
Tony smirked. “I have just been massively enlightened. Capturing you catapulted me a notch higher in the pecking order.”
“I’d catapult you into something if I didn’t have this thing on me.”
“Oh, I know. And now I know all about you and your freak-of-nature friends, and your mentors in… what’s it called? Dema-Ki? You told me about it during the summer but left out some crucial details.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Hardly. It makes sense now, how you moved so fast back at the Kansas f—”
“No. I meant, you’re just learning this now? Guess you really were nothing more than a lapdog licking dirt off Reyor’s shoes.”
Tony’s foot snapped up, delivering a kick to Jag’s mending leg. A shockwave slammed through the teenager and he gasped, rapidly blinking back tears.
“Watch your mouth,” Tony warned. “You’re in my world now.”
Jag breathed hard through his nose. “Little big man,” he jeered. “Let me out of this chair and I promise my mouth will be the least of your worries.”
“Where is this appetite for violence coming from?”
“You mean aside from pretending to be a good guy and then kidnapping my friends? Aside from killing the man guarding me in Israel? Aside from holding me hostage?”
“Wow. You’re an emotional one, aren’t you?”
Jag spat at Tony. “You killed my grandmother!”
“I never laid a hand on her.”
“You work for the person whose actions dealt her the coronary. Guilt by association is enough for me.”
Tony crossed an ankle over his knee and rubbed his nose. “I suppose that’s fair.”
Jag curled his hands, nails biting into his palms. The casualness. The callousness. He doesn’t care.
“What do you people want from me, Tony? Why am I here?”
“You ask that every day,” Tony answered, “and every day I say you’ll find out soon.”
“How did you find me in the middle of the Negev Desert?”
Tony looked offended. “Now you’re getting ridiculous. Jag, an organization like this, we have our ways. It was just a matter of narrowing down names and properties. You think we wouldn’t have such capabilities with the direction we’re heading? You don’t know what else we’ve got. During the summer, I had to get assets on my own. I was at a disadvantage. This time, I’ve got the Boss behind me. That’s why you’re sitting where you are.”
A muffled buzz came from the phone in Tony’s hand. He looked at the screen and froze, then jumped up. “Looks like it’s time for me to vacate the room,” he said, heading for the door. “Man, I wish I could be a fly on the wall for this one.”
Jag tugged at his restraints once he was alone in the Cube. The metallic fragments of the bindings rattled, laughing at his attempts to break free. He gave up, jaw ticking. This is useless—I’m useless. I lose my abilities and that’s it. I’m nothing.
The door clicked and swung inward. A tall figure in a knee-length black coat stood in the doorway, a gold hood shielding a shadowed face. The room’s temperature seemed to drop. Jag’s stomach knotted and his mouth dried instantly.
The solid door slammed shut. The figure stood at Jag’s elevated feet, facing him head-on. Jag had never seen Reyor but there was no mistaking the weight of the presence in front of him.
He exhaled his jitters. “You.”
“Jag Sanchez.” A concealed modulator deepened and distorted the voice. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of meeting.”
“We haven’t. But I know who you are.”
“You’ve been a hard nuisance to catch, but I always get my way. If you don’t know that by now you will learn it soon enough.
Jag kept his head high. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing. At worst, you’re a freak. At best, you’re a pest. But there’s someone who wants to see you, who believes you’re important. I think this is all a waste of time, but if we can’t be rid of you, maybe we can put you to good use, give you a higher purpose.”
“Who wants to see me?” Jag asked. “Where am I? What is this place?”
“You’ll meet him soon,” Reyor said. “As for this place… this is ground zero from which a new world is being built. A world unlike anything humanity’s ever seen.”
“Spare me the elevator pitch. You think murdering the whole population justifies your actions? You’re gonna model the new world after, what, yourself? Evil incarnate?”
“Evil is a matter of perspective. From where I stand, evil is what’s out there. Look at what humans have done to themselves with their greed and corruption and waywardness. The new world I’m building will be better. Healthier in every sense of the word. Earth will finally have stewards who respect her and each other. They’ve been taught to be ideal—”
“Taught? You mean brainwashed. Or what’s that word you guys use… repurposed?”
Reyor reached into one of the coat’s pockets and withdrew the lathe’ad. The violet sphere rolled over long fingers. “It takes a strong hand to alter the course of humanity. To save it from itself. And if that strong hand needs to be iron, then so be it.”
“You think the end justifies the means,” Jag accused. “Who gave you the right to play God?”
“Why shouldn’t the end justify the means, if the end is noble?”
Jag tried to answer but couldn’t formulate a swift response.
“That’s what I thought,” Reyor said, slipping the lathe’ad back into the jacket. “Coming back to your second question. What is this place? I call it the Heart. This is where it all began. A majestic island stood here once, surrounded by shimmering turquoise waters. This Heart now beats in the same spot where that island used to be. Well, close enough, anyway. So, Mr. Sanchez, what is this place? It’s home.”
The door opened again and a statuesque older man in a short-sleeved, royal purple tunic strode in. A tribal tattoo wound around his le
ft arm. His curly dark hair was frost-tipped with age, his full beard similarly colored. Only his amber eyes cracked his stern countenance; they were inquisitive. Light, even. But Jag still knew a dangerous man when he saw one.
As the newcomer took his place beside Reyor, his gaze never leaving Jag, the hooded figure bowed slightly. “Mentor.”
The corners of the man’s mouth pulled up just slightly. “Reyor.”
Jag looked at both of them. “There’s two of you? I thought we were only dealing with one Satan.”
“Satan?” The old man started to smile fully. “Jag seems to think you’re the devil himself, Reyor. He thinks you’re a… oh. Interesting.” His smile took on a mysterious shade. “You know, Reyor, you’re quite right about what you said earlier. We are home. You needn’t conceal yourself behind that hood anymore. At least not in here.”
For a moment, the hooded figure didn’t move. Then one tanned hand reached into the shadows under the cowl, pulled out the vocal distorter and pocketed it. Then the hand grasped the gold hood and pulled it down. Jag went slack.
Reyor’s a woman.
High cheekbones, full lips and a strong chin accentuated her features, all framed by wavy burgundy hair tucked into the jacket’s high collar. A lock of white to the side of the center parting fell across one of her mauve eyes. She observed Jag with catlike focus; if she was amused by his reaction at her reveal, she made no indication of it.
In a crisp, husky voice that hinted a Dema-Ki accent, Reyor said, “We will see each other again, Mr. Sanchez. For now, I must take my leave. I ask that you be on your best behavior.”
Jag was still reeling. I never realized… Not only did the Elders try to avoid saying Reyor’s name whenever they could, they avoided pronouns. Like they completely wanted to erase her from their lives. Like not attaching her to anything identifying would bring them comfort.
The old man waited until Reyor departed, then took a seat in the chair beside Jag. “Now, young man,” he crooned. “We have much to discuss.”
* * *