The Crystal Tower

by Liam Donnelly

  It was over. Jane took a deep breath as she looked at her hand and watched the light rapidly fade. The power left her body. Then she fell to her knees on the crystal that had formed beneath her. Exhaustion overcame her, and slowly she fell on her side. Her face hit the cool surface, and she came to rest. For a moment, her eyes opened and closed on the glimmering substance that now covered the floor in front of her.

  It looks like diamonds, she thought. Finally, she closed her eyes one last time and lost consciousness.

  CHAPTER 18

  AWAKENING

  Jane’s mind was awake, but her body was merely breathing. She felt the cold crystal that had so recently formed beneath her—at her own hand—and she felt the draft of air that blew in through the two open spaces Max had created—the broken double doors and the destroyed wall at the end of the corridor. However, she could not move. Her mind drifted, and as her sight became clearer, she saw that she was floating over her body. Her awareness was three-dimensional, and she looked all around her at the radiant crystal.

  Still aware of the sensations in her body, Jane felt the pulse of burning energy in her hand and saw the illumination diminishing there, until after a few moments, the light had become a small point and disappeared. Jane felt herself frowning, and wondered what had happened.

  Her thoughts returned to Max. The shock that came with the realization that he may well have been hurt sent her hurtling back into her body, and her eyes shot open. Immediately, she took a sharp, deep breath. Choking a little, Jane lifted her head and cleared her throat. She glanced around to see if what she had seen with her psychic sight was actually true. However, she already knew. Pressing her hands down to push herself up, Jane immediately felt the cold indentations there. As she slowly moved into a seated position, she stared down at the glinting surface.

  Crystal, she thought, and frowned. But it’s not crystal, it’s something else. It’s… No further information came. In that previous state, when she had held her hand out to Elliot and a power much greater than hers had been in her command, she had the understanding of where it had come from and how it had formed. Now, all that knowledge had faded.

  There was no time for thoughts like that now, though; she could examine the memories later. Lifting herself to her feet, Jane blinked hard and ignored the new weakness she felt in every muscle and bone. Turning right toward the hole through which Max had fallen, she walked in that direction, fighting waves of dizziness and taking deep breaths. When she reached it, Jane placed her hands on the sharp, broken fragments of concrete and tile on either side of the hole and peered inside. It was almost totally black, but at the far side of the largely empty storage room, she saw Max lying against the wall, partially buried in rubble. She was about to say his name when light shot out of his hands, illuminating the room. The debris that covered him rose off his body. First, the larger chunks of rock and plaster flew into the air and were thrown aside. Then a veil of dust floated upward and away from him.

  His eyes opened, and immediately, he met her gaze.

  What did you do? he asked sternly.

  Jane stared at him as he rose to his feet, deftly using his own power to lift himself.

  I—I… She turned and looked at the walls, which were still glistening with a thousand dots of light. I’m not sure, Max. Lifting her right hand from the broken wall, she glanced at her palm. In her peripheral vision, she saw Max follow her gaze. As Jane looked back at him, she saw him eyeing her—scanning her—as a parent might look at a teenager who had taken their first sip of alcohol.

  Jane frowned at him and glanced left, out to where the night waited beyond the broken wall.

  You know that it’s dangerous, don’t you? he asked.

  Jane considered what he’d said. It didn’t seem dangerous to her. How could it be dangerous? It had saved them, after all. Whatever gift had been given to her, whatever power she now possessed, although clearly unreliable and perhaps unstable, it had saved them both. Jane knew Elliot had posed no real threat to Max, but in thinking he had found a weak spot—herself—he had made a serious mistake.

  I don’t understand why it’s dangerous, she said. Jane was still staring out into the darkness, though now she turned back to him. Max had silently crossed—perhaps levitated—the thirty-foot distance between them and was standing a few feet away. He looked down at her for a moment with an expression she found difficult to read. Was it scorn? Concern? Fear? Judgement? She couldn’t tell.

  Then he simply nodded at her. Jane stepped back, watching as Max climbed over the hole in the wall. They both turned and stood together, side by side in silence, staring at the square-shaped hole at the end of the hall.

  He turned toward her. Thank you, he said.

  Jane glanced up at him and watched as he slowly pulled away his gaze and continued looking out through the gap in the concrete ahead of them. She hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange lull as her emotions pulled at her. Why do I feel like crying? she wondered. As the dynamic between them began to shift silently, she felt his cold fingers touch her hand. She glanced down to see him take her hand in his. She was standing on his left, and as tears began to fall, she slowly tightened the grip on his palm, fearing for a moment that she would break it, though she knew that was a ridiculous thought. Still, for some reason, she had to hold him. As the emotions rose to the surface, he was ready for her, and she fell against his chest, sobbing. Max placed his arms around her, and the silence was punctuated by only three things: the sound of the wind that drifted through the large opening ahead of them, the sound of Jane’s crying, and the knowledge that lay in the silence of what Jane was, at least on some level, beginning to realize.

  After a while, Max slowly released her, though he kept his hands on her shoulders. She glanced toward the ground, then slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

  “We have to keep moving, Jane,” Max said in a near whisper.

  She didn’t want to. She thought about the temporal effect Max had had on the immediate vicinity when he had fought Elliot. What if they could live in a bubble like that forever? What if things didn’t have to move toward some inevitable—and possibly final—point? After a moment, she met his gaze with hope, but she saw the answer in his eyes already.

  I can create temporal ripples in local space-time, Jane. But I cannot stop, nor can I change, the timeline of the entire cosmos. Such a thing is not possible. We can only look forward, not back.

  Jane looked into his eyes, and once again she was practically lost in them, for they appeared to her as bright blue pools, doorways to other places. She nodded and wiped the tears from her eyes. Feeling a moment of embarrassment, she glanced away from him toward the hole at the far end of the corridor. She walked toward it. After a moment, she heard his footfalls behind her.

  Jane reached the edge of the precipice, where the wall had broken away, and she glanced out into the night. A new wind was crossing there, and her hair blew up around her and to her left. Slowly, Max stepped forward so that he was standing at her right. She glanced at him, and as she scanned his face, she noticed for the first time since she had seen him last that he had aged yet again. He now seemed to have the appearance of a healthy man in his early forties. New lines creased down from his eyes, and in the color of his face, she saw the very beginnings of an ashen tint. His eyes, though, were crystal clear and blue as ever, as though immune to this aging effect that Jane didn’t yet understand. She was worried for him, but she kept her eyes and her thoughts firm—stoic. She knew it probably wouldn’t matter; after all, he saw pretty much everything.

  Are my friends all right?

  Yes. They’re just unconscious. Max closed his eyes. Now that his hold on them has lifted, I’ll be able to wake them easily.

  Jane watched as Max folded his arms and stood in silence.

  They’ve not been harmed, he said as he opened his eyes. They’re getting up. I’ve shown them where we are. They’re leaving now. He paused and took a breath.
Should be here in a moment.

  Glancing back out into the night, more questions bubbled inside her. What’s going to happen? she asked.

  The tower is nearing completion. Max paused and calmly looked at the buildings outside, as though a massive tower made of some kind of otherworldly crystal wasn’t growing off the coast of New York City. I must fight him.

  What?

  He looked down at her. The only option left is to defeat Zatera on the psychic plane, and…he’ll be expecting it.

  Jane’s heart beat faster, but she tried to quell the worry that swelled within her. Will you—are you—strong enough? she finally asked, almost afraid to admit this fear.

  They stood facing each other now, and Max had a half grin on his face. I may be.

  You MAY be? Are you joking?

  He didn’t reply, merely stood there, staring into her eyes.

  We can help you. We can fight with you.

  No. None of you are powerful enough—even together. He’d banish you from the psychic landscape in an instant, and leave you reeling in some forgotten void.

  But—

  This is the way it’s going, Jane. This is what has to happen.

  What do you mean? she asked, frowning, perplexed.

  He sighed. I mean… He hesitated. Now that he had turned away from the light of the moon, his eyes appeared dark and solemn. Well, you’ll see. He held her gaze for one more second before turning back out toward the opening. The breeze blew his black hair away from his forehead.

  Footsteps approached in the distance. They grew louder as Jane’s friends ran toward them from the opposite end of the hallway. They stopped suddenly.

  “What the—” Jane heard Ciara say behind her. “Jane, what happened here?”

  Jane turned and looked at her. Their eyes met for a moment, and then Ciara continued looking at the crystalline substance that covered the walls. Her eyes were wide with shock, and then her face took on an expression of perplexity and wonder.

  Morris didn’t look at the walls. His eyes remained fixed on Jane, and they were fierce. He approached her slowly. She noticed that as he walked, he took a quick glance at her right hand. Reflexively, she moved it and placed it behind her back, glancing away and feeling a shame she couldn’t quite understand. In the years after the accident involving her family, she had recalled reading something about trauma and its link to shame. Is that what this is? she wondered.

  “Are you OK?” Morris asked as he approached. He reached up and held her face in his cold hands. Jane closed her eyes and let some of her weight rest there. His touch enlivened her, and she felt that now familiar warm glow light up inside her. It washed away the tumult of emotions that had been rushing through her. In some ways Jane was glad, though, oddly, some other part of her wanted them back.

  “I’m fine,” she said, lowering her face further into the caress of his palms.

  “OK. You’re fine. That’s great,” Mike interjected. “And Max is back—clearly. That’s great too.” He smiled sardonically. “But would someone like to explain the devastation up here? And uh, the half-ton of…crystal back there?”

  Jane glanced over her shoulder at Max, who was still facing outward and scanning the city. Now, he glanced back too, and though their eyes did not meet, the silent communication was aimed at her.

  It’s best not to tell them just yet, Max said. We still don’t fully understand this, Jane.

  Ciara glanced between the two of them, too astute to miss the nonverbal cues. “Could you please tell us what happened here?” she asked in a firm voice.

  “It was Elliot,” Jane blurted. “He did something to the hallway. I hid from him, but I wasn’t strong enough to stop him. When he used his power, it did this.” She nodded in the direction of the crystal. “And then Max showed up.”

  “Oh,” Mike said.

  Jane watched as the three exchanged glances, then seemed to accept the information. However, Ciara was the first to return Jane’s gaze, and Jane saw the clear disbelief there. Eventually, she would have to tell Ciara the truth one way or another. Ciara would probably pick it up eventually if Jane didn’t; at this point, it was very difficult to lie to her.

  Max turned fully and faced the four of them. “We have to go,” he said, and his eyes met each of theirs in turn. Then he walked forward. They parted as he passed, then watched as he strode down the hallway in silence, his cloak billowing behind him. Jane was the first to follow, and her friends fell in behind the two of them.

  ***

  After walking for nearly an hour, Ben and Regina reached the other side of the bridge. As they approached it, Ben was shocked to see hundreds of spectators. When they drew closer, murmurs came from the crowd, and then slowly, the spectators began to applaud. Regina and Ben shared confused glances.

  Approaching the precipice, they walked up the slight hill, then down the other side. Ben glanced downward for a second and marveled at the place where the crystal met the sand. Here, striations of the substance reached into the murky shore, just where its formation ceased. He spared only a few seconds on this, though, as all kinds of alarm bells rang in his mind. These people shouldn’t be here, he thought. Another shared look with Regina confirmed that she was thinking the same thing. They began walking through the crowd, which parted for them, and then Ben addressed them loudly.

  “You shouldn’t be here. Leave the area immediately,” he yelled.

  He was surprised when the applause died down, but still, nobody moved. After a moment, they fell into silence. Slowly, the spectators returned their attention to their surroundings, and most of them looked back out toward the tower. Ben glanced over his shoulder and saw the glinting object in the distance. He squinted, momentarily mesmerized by it, and some part of him could understand why they were staying. However, as he took a deep breath, he still questioned the wisdom of it. Already, the information they had gleaned about the edifice proved that its presence was far from benign. The only truth he knew was that anything was possible, and that these people were not safe. If he had his way, they would be on the other side of the North American continent. However, his communications were gone, his plane was gone, and he had no further orders; he had no power to move them.

  “What do you think?” he heard Regina ask.

  Ben looked at her, then turned around to face the people once again. “I think we should keep moving. We still don’t know what happened to the others. If we can establish communication, we can arrange for a pickup. My gut feeling tells me that we need to be as far away from that thing as possible. Hopefully someone—maybe local enforcement—will evacuate the beach.”

  “Right,” she replied.

  The two of them stepped forward and walked farther onto the sand. Ben was about to head for an exit point when he spotted someone waving her arms on the boardwalk. He squinted and, after a moment, recognized her. “Hey, isn’t that that famous reporter?”

  “Yeah, Claudia something.”

  Ben changed direction and headed toward her instead. Making his way onto the boardwalk, he introduced both himself and Regina. After a brief discussion, Ben quickly learned that Claudia had been responsible for sending an advanced civilian drone out to the vicinity where they had engaged the hostile Ethereal. She showed him the video footage they had managed to capture. He had to push Claudia a little to reveal it, as she knew he had the power to confiscate it, but at this point, after what he had seen, Ben had no such intentions.

  “Broadcast it,” he said flatly.

  Claudia reeled and stared at him. “What?”

  “Yeah,” Regina added. “But don’t tell anyone we told you to do that.”

  “Uh, OK.”

  “The world needs to take more decisive action against what’s happening here. It’s been barely twenty-four hours since this thing started, and it’s already throwing our world into chaos. Half of the city has evacuated.”

  Ben paused and watched for Claudia’s reaction. She n
odded, apparently realizing what he had said was true.

  “If you broadcast this, it will light a fire under them. They need to see how easily that man can—”

  “Yes, I saw him,” Claudia said, interrupting Ben. “What was he, like, twenty?”

  “Looked that way. Maybe even younger,” Regina said.

  “Right. They need to see how easily he threw down three out of five—sixth-generation—psionically shielded fighters,” Ben said. “Enough energy was expended to blow a small hole in the world, but he barely flinched.”

  “Right. Until…” Claudia raised her eyebrows and waited. She bit her lip. However, Ben didn’t move. He remained standing there with his arms crossed. “Until…” she repeated.

  He rolled his eyes. “Until the other one showed up,” he said finally.

  Claudia smiled. “So, you did see him. And he seemed to be helping you.”

  “He was. I heard him,” Regina said.

  Ben glared at her.

  “Sort of,” Regina added, shrugging her shoulders.

  “What do you mean?” Claudia asked, her demeanor changing as she took a step toward Regina and clasped her hands in front of her.

  Regina’s mouth dropped open. “Uh, I’m not certain, really. Don’t put that on record, Miss Gellar.”

  “Understood.” Claudia turned back to Ben and pursed her lips. “So, broadcast?”

  “Yes,” he responded.

  “In your opinion, off the record of course, what steps should the military be taking next?”

  Ben glanced over his shoulder at the tower. “In my humble opinion,” he said, and then turned back to face Claudia, “they need to go orbital on that thing. Get the orbital defense system online and blow it to pieces. In fact, I’m sure they’ve already made contingency plans for it. However, I have to say I don’t know what the dynamics of such a scenario would be. The orbital weapons system is powerful, and I don’t know what the wake would be like. That’s why I’d suggest not staying around here for too long.”