The Crystal Tower

by Liam Donnelly

  Morris took a few steps inside. As he did, the doctor stepped over the fallen bodies of his two friends and walked straight out the door. Pausing for a moment, he glanced left, his face devoid of expression, and then went in that direction, presumably heading the same way they had come—toward the entrance, just like the other staff.

  Morris dropped to his knees in front of his fallen comrades. Knowing that he would pass out soon, he focused his will on the door and grasped it, slamming it shut. Then he summoned his remaining strength and fused together the metal at the edges of the door frame. There was a hissing sound, and the rim of the door glowed with orange light as it melted, filling in the small gaps surrounding the frame. Just as he finished this final act, the power drained from Morris’s mind and he could only watch as the metal cooled. He fell on his back, the acrid smell of the burning alloy filling his senses.

  With the last of his energy, Morris craned his neck to look above him at the bed where Jane lay. He willed his arm to move, trying to reach her, but it wouldn’t. Now, as his consciousness faded, in his mind he saw Elliot coming. He was surrounded by pulsing waves of energy, which buckled the concrete beneath him as he walked down a nearby street. Somehow, despite the fact that he was almost completely unconscious, Morris saw through Elliot’s eyes. Elliot was approaching the hospital doors, from which dozens of people were pouring out into the night and scattering like a frightened herd.

  “Damn you,” Morris muttered as the vision faded and the blurry outline of the hospital room came into view. Finally giving in, he closed his eyes, almost welcoming the darkness that followed.

  ***

  Jane opened her eyes to blurry shapes enshrouded in dim light. The first sensation she had was the feeling of the cool sheets beneath her body. Slowly, she turned her head left to see a backlit cabinet filled with small bottles that looked like they contained medicine. Glancing upward, squinting, she saw a semi-circular machine of some kind above her. She recognized it immediately as an advanced piece of medical equipment. Using her limited strength to raise her head and gaze around the room, she saw a terminal on the opposite wall. Displayed on it was a scan of what looked like someone’s brain.

  Jane didn’t want to see that, nor did she want to consider its implications, so, with her limited strength gone, she let her head fall back onto the pillow. She closed her eyes and rested for a few more moments, hoping for her some of her vigor to return. There was a dull ache at the back of her head, but she didn’t reach for it yet, for as she focused on her body with her now-limited mental faculties, she could feel her pulse slowly picking up; she knew she was getting stronger, and would soon be able to sit up. She just had to wait a bit longer.

  After a few moments had passed and more of her strength had returned, Jane moved to reach behind her. However, before she had a chance to push herself into a seated position, the lights in the room flickered on and off. She stared at them, squinting and taking deep breaths as new fear flooded her veins. The lights’ pattern spoke of intention; it did not seem to be caused by a power failure. When the flickering stopped, the lights above her made a buzzing sound, then went out completely, leaving her in near darkness save for the dim illumination provided by the glass cabinet in the corner on her left.

  As Jane sat up, unable to let go of the fear she now felt, she reached her hand behind her head to the source of the pain. Jane winced as she felt a swelling there. She pulled her hand away, afraid that she could cause further damage. Her strength was returning now, but just as she was about to place her legs over the side of the bed, she heard a telepathic voice that made her blood turn cold.

  Are you feeling ill, Jane?

  She froze as the memories of what had happened rushed back in a torrent of fragmented images. One of them stood out clearly, though—the image of the spinning metallic tray which had caused this. Using all her psychic will, Jane threw up her defenses, protecting her mind from the person she now knew was still following her. In her mind’s eye, she glimpsed Elliot standing outside the front door of the hospital, waiting, his eyes glowing with that bizarre, spectral blue light. Despite the pain that the anger caused, she gritted her teeth.

  Stay the hell out of my mind, she growled.

  Just as the image of Elliot faded from her thoughts, Jane saw his mouth open in shock at the strength of her will. Her right hand burned again, and as she looked at it now, a flicker of white light shone from within it. She stared at it, transfixed, but after a few seconds, it disappeared, along with the pain. Now, sitting upright on the bed, Jane glanced down to see her friends lying in a heap on the floor.

  Oh no, she thought as her eyes grew wide and her head swam with frenzied thoughts. For a moment, she could do nothing but sit and stare down at them, her jaw trembling. Then, summoning her strength again, she quelled her fears and pushed herself off the bed and into a standing position. Ignoring the pain and dizziness, she knelt next to Morris, who had fallen nearest to her. She focused all her psychic reserves on scanning them. A confused look slowly spread across her face as she realized they were all perfectly healthy. What? she wondered, frowning. There’s nothing wrong with—

  Then her head tilted slowly as she sensed something else. It hovered around them like a bad odor. It was the telepathic influence of Elliot. He had shut down their minds, cut their strings like puppets. She glanced at the corner of the room, toward the dimly lit medicine cabinet. Beyond the wall behind that, she knew Elliot was waiting. Glaring in that direction, she silently vowed to exact vengeance for what he had done. Looking back to her friends, she ran a hand over Morris’s forehead, then leaned in and kissed him gently there. At the touch of his skin, a momentary feeling of energy raced through her, like electricity. Enlivened by this, she stood and faced the door. Carefully, holding back tears, she stepped over her friends and walked toward it.

  She knew immediately that it had been sealed shut, and she also knew that Morris had probably been the one to take this action. Focusing intently on the frame, she began to unfuse the metal. Under the influence of her psychokinetic power, the alloy once again glowed into a molten-hot, malleable material. Then, gripping the door with her mind, she pulled it open. A few drops of the glowing-hot, molten substance flew toward her. One landed on her jacket and sizzled there before turning solid. A trace of acrid smoke filled the room, but Jane ignored it and slowly stepped into the corridor. The lights were flickering on and off there as well. Elliot’s mere proximity was having an effect on the hospital’s electrical systems, and Jane wondered how she was going to fight him alone. She couldn’t leave her friends, and that meant she couldn’t leave the hospital; she was alone.

  She thought about trying to contact Max, but as she began reaching out with her telepathic senses, she felt that they were unusually difficult to use. Closing her eyes, she focused. In her mind’s eye, she reached outward and rushed through the concrete in the walls, moving through the hallways rapidly. Her vision came to a halt near where Elliot stood; he was blocking her telepathy from reaching any further.

  Damn, she thought as her senses fully returned to her body and she became present in the hall once again. Still, she could easily detect Elliot approaching from that same direction. Glancing to her left, she saw that the corridor stretched on for a short distance and then turned to the left once more. Jane had no memory of where she had entered the hospital, but a quick scan of the nearby interior revealed that the same hallway in which she was standing led all the way to the entrance point. She walked in that direction now, keeping close to the wall and heading toward the corner. Reaching it, she placed her back against the concrete and turned slowly, peering down the long, wide interior, where the overhead lighting flickered on and off throughout. In the far distance, at least a hundred feet away, past a check-in desk which was partially concealed on her left-hand side, Jane saw the entrance. Beyond it, a dim—and now familiar—blue light glowed.

  Daring herself to move farther, Jane stepped out from behind th
e wall. The sound of a distant, childlike giggle entered her mind, almost like a whisper. She grimaced, for beneath it was the sound of another dark, cruel voice—Zatera. Somehow, though, this strengthened her. Her face grew stoic, and despite her weakness, she began moving along the hallway, staying close to the wall and keeping to a light jogging pace. Just ten feet before she reached the reception area, the blue light near the entrance grew brighter. Acting on instinct, she dashed to the right side of the corridor, hurling her body behind a stretcher there. As she did, the entire frame at the front entrance of the hospital exploded inward, sending shards of glass and chunks of metal frame down the corridor. One piece of metal crashed into a monitor at the reception desk, and it exploded on impact.

  A low buzzing sound came from overhead as Elliot’s power began acting on the electrical systems to a much greater degree. The remaining lights flickered on and off faster creating a strobe-like effect. In front of her, against the back wall that marked the turn from where she had come, Jane saw a blue light illuminate the concrete. Daring a glance behind her, she saw Elliot walk through the main door of the hospital, whose entrance was now in ruins. The light that came from his eyes became clearer, and then slowly, the entire front area was bathed in that eerie glow.

  As Jane turned back around, she took notice of the other hallway next to the reception area. She had no idea where it led, but some primal instinct told her she could find refuge if she were to go in that direction. I can make it, she thought. Elliot was still a good sixty feet away. If she ran now, she had a chance of making it to safety. Glancing ahead, she frowned, thinking about her friends, but she could do nothing for them in that moment.

  Jane held up her hand and looked at it, but no protective light shone from it this time. She shook it, and then, in an almost comic gesture, smacked it against her knee. Still, it did not burn. No mysterious power was to be found there—at least not yet. Back in the room, whatever additional ability it had afforded her had seemed to enable her to shield her mind from Elliot, and as of yet, he appeared to have no direct telepathic influence over her. At present, though, it offered her no further power. Behind her, the blue light grew brighter as Elliot drew closer up the hallway.

  CHAPTER 15

  WALLS OF LIGHT

  Max had been flying over the city, scanning it and trying to locate Jane, but so far, he had been unsuccessful. He quickly realized what the problem was. Someone (most likely Ciara) had, quite intelligently, created a psychic echo for Elliot so that they could escape. Max sensed that Jane had been injured, but thus far, he hadn’t been able to reach her telepathically.

  Eventually, the echo lost its power and, as Max hovered over the city’s enormous buildings, he finally caught in his mind’s eye a glimpse of Elliot, who was approaching the hospital. Ciara, Mike, and Morris were already unconscious, and Jane was entering the main entrance hallway, just over a hundred feet from Elliot. She had managed to protect herself from his powerful telepathic influence, and he marveled at that, for he couldn’t fully comprehend it. Indeed, something was different about Jane now; a new power—an entirely new signature—was arising from within her, growing in strength with each passing moment.

  In his mind’s eye, Max saw the glass doors that lined the entrance to the hospital explode inward under the influence of Elliot’s psychokinetic ability. He watched Jane run for cover behind a gurney. Max was about to fly toward them when a piercing sound came from above. He stopped, hovering in midair, and looked around, for it was difficult to discern the exact direction from which the sound was coming. Then, instead of listening, Max reached out with his vast psychic abilities and scanned the skies. Almost immediately, he detected five craft of sophisticated design. They were rushing in the direction of the tower, travelling at supersonic velocity, high above the city. He glanced up and saw them. Five clear black shapes with no discernible lights were dashing through the sky.

  Max scanned them as they flew over him, but he couldn’t detect any clear trace of them on the psychic plane, despite their very obvious physical presence. He watched as they flew toward the tower, then turned back in the direction of the hospital.

  Jane, he said, calling out to her, easily breaking through the meager blocks that Elliot had placed on her telepathy.

  Max? He heard her call in response, her voice dripping with apprehension. In his mind’s eye, he saw her crouched behind the bed, with Elliot approaching through the main door from behind.

  Are you OK?

  Yes. I am, but he’s coming.

  I know. Max turned in the air and glanced behind him again toward the tower, which he saw glinting on the horizon far above the reach of the tallest buildings. Then he turned back in the direction of the hospital. I know you’re hurt. I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you in time. He’s right behind you, Jane, less than a hundred feet away. Listen to me. Something’s happened. They’re sending military aircraft to attack the tower. The repercussions could be severe. Lives have already been lost in this pursuit. I must try to stop them. Can you evade him for a while longer?

  Watching her in his mind’s eye, Max waited as Jane paused. He saw her glance out from behind the gurney. His eyes narrowed to slits as he concentrated on the scene.

  I think so, she said, the uncertainty in her voice obvious.

  He can’t see you, Jane. How did you manage to shield yourself from his senses? Max continued watching her as she glanced at her hand.

  Uh, I’m not certain, she replied.

  Max reeled a little as he saw the thoughts running through her mind. She was considering a direct confrontation with Elliot. Jane, you’re no match for him, not while Zatera is empowering him. You have to evade him until I get there, and you have to move right now—he’s powering up.

  Max watched as Jane peered out tentatively from behind her camouflage once again.

  Jane. You have to go. NOW! In his mind’s eye, he saw the hallway light up with the blue hue of Elliot’s expanded power.

  OK, she said firmly, and then he watched—filled with pride at the sight of her courage—as she dashed from the space where she had taken refuge. When she was out of harm’s way, at least for the moment, Max stretched his arms outward toward the tower, where he sensed the vessels were already positioning themselves into an attack formation, high in the sky. He flew back the way he had come.

  ***

  Claudia Gellar watched from the bridge as the sleek, barely visible aircraft flew overhead. In the distance, from that direction, it sounded like something was ripping through the air itself. “John, look sharp. Something’s coming,” she said, addressing the production coordinator they had sent out to her—the company’s best.

  “Are we going live again?” he asked.

  Claudia waited, watching as the aircraft flew into the distance, heading straight for the tower. She continued watching as the jets became mere dots on the horizon, then disappeared. Still, her sight lingered on the enormous structure, hoping she would see some sign of activity. Finally, she managed to pull her gaze away for a moment and turned back to John. “Isn’t there any possibility of getting a drone out there? Do we have anything at all? Those were sixth-generation fighters. We have to get images and we have to get them now!”

  Josh stepped forward, looked at her incredulously, and glanced around, seeming to consider what she was saying. She stepped closer to him, and after a moment, he met her gaze. Finally, he sighed. “The only thing I can think of,” he said, “given that every single station has had its drone complement wiped out at this point, is civilian technology.”

  Claudia frowned. “Like, retail?”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “But none of them have that kind of range.”

  “Actually, a few models do. They cost close to fifteen thousand dollars, and can pretty much match everything ours can do to a reasonable degree. They’re at the very edge of the consumer category. They sell like…well, none of them, really. Damn, why didn’t I think of th
is before?”

  “How fast can you get one here?” she asked.

  Immediately, Josh pulled down his earpiece. “Hey Trevor?” he asked. “Yes, it’s Josh. Do you know that company, The Flying Factory? Yeah, they make those super expensive retail drones that are borderline—yes, borderline military, exactly.” He stopped, listening. “Right. Can you get me one—or two even?” he asked, risking it.

  Claudia watched him, about to burst with anticipation.

  “Yes, I know how much they cost.” After a moment, he glanced up at Claudia. “The company won’t cover it. They say we’ve already destroyed enough of their property.”

  “Charge it to me! I don’t care.”

  “Uh, OK. Can you get them anyway, Trevor? Claudia says you can charge it to her. How fast can you get them to Roosevelt Beach? Ten minutes? You can fly them out by remote? Perfect. Transfer control to me, and I can pilot them from my computer here.”

  Claudia gaped and her eyes opened wide, her face filled with a mixture of relief and joy.

  “Thanks, Trev. Call us back when you need Claudia’s details.” Josh pushed up his earpiece and reeled back as Claudia punched him in the shoulder, laughing. “Whoa!” he exclaimed, almost wincing at the force of her excited jab.

  “You’re unbelievable!” Claudia was almost shaking with excitement. She turned back around to face the tower. After a moment, she turned back to Josh. “Will it work?”

  “These things are heavy duty,” Josh said. “They can go for miles. Technically, you’re supposed to have a separate license to operate them, but…”

  “Let me guess. You’ll take the chance this one time, right?”

  He pursed his lips and nodded. “You got it, Claudia.”

  “Oh, thank you!” She wrapped one hand tightly around his wrist.