Diamond Sky Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3

by David Clarkson

  Then everything began to change again. The gravitational pull started to weaken. She was no longer in control. Her grandfather was fighting back.

  ‘You are not as strong as you think you are,’ he told her. ‘I will go back.’

  She tried to fight. Her previous out of body experiences gave her increased knowledge, but no matter how much she tried to focus her energy, she knew that he was more powerful. He had shed reason and restraint long before he had shed his physical skin. His will was like a dwarf star about to go supernova. It overwhelmed her. She could feel his hateful determination penetrating every aspect of her spirit. In virtually no time at all the opening started to close and she knew that at any moment, he would break away from her and return to his body. Except that it was not his body that he would be returning to – it was hers.

  ‘Why do you still fight?’ she pleaded. ‘You have already failed; my body is dead.’

  The opening was now closed and it would only be a matter of time before he was free. All that she could now do was to try and stall the inevitable and her grandfather was all too aware of this.

  ‘It is nothing I cannot fix,’ he told her. ‘Nothing will stop my rebirth. The important thing is that I will live again.’ His expression then took on a more cruel aspect. ‘Besides,’ he added, ‘I am looking forward to becoming a lesbian.’

  His cruelty had become too much for her. She had failed. It was time for her to let go, but as she tried to release her grip, she felt another hand press down on hers and the portal reopened. It was the spirit of her father; David Armareth.

  Fox became panicked. As he lost focus, he also lost his strength, yielding more of his previous advantage. It was, however, about to get a lot worse for the once great genius of Jackson’s Hill. The space around them began to light up with the diamond glare of yet more spirits. Emmy was amazed to see that they had now been joined by Lucas and Sammy. It was too much for Fox. Surrounded by the spirits of those he had murdered, the old man was finally defeated.

  As they reached the threshold of the opening, she felt warm and secure. It was the strangest feeling, but she felt like she was home. Returning to her previous life no longer seemed important, but her father had other ideas. Davo pulled Emmy’s hand away from Fox and stayed with her as the Aboriginal and the policeman took her grandfather beyond the boundary of human existence.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Why are we not going with them?’

  He smiled at her.

  ‘It is not yet your time.’

  She shook her ethereal head.

  ‘There is nothing left for me there.’

  He turned and as she followed his gaze, she saw the opening return, but he did not intend for her to pass through it.

  ‘You will never be alone, Emmy. You have to go back and show the world what you have learned.’

  ‘But...’

  He smiled at her one last time.

  ‘It is time. Just remember that I love you, always.’

  He let go of her hand and she could feel herself falling to Earth. In an instant, she was back. She opened her eyes and surveyed the devastation that had been left behind. One of the kangaroos had survived. It paid her little heed and hopped out of the laboratory, leaving her alone. Lucas’ body was on the floor. She knelt down and felt for a pulse, but there was none. This time it really was over. Her grandfather was finally gone.

  She got back to her feet and started to walk towards the exit, but her body was too tired. The injuries, which had previously ended her life, were not fatal the second time around. In time they would heal.

  She stopped and sat on the steps leading up to the control station for a rest. She then rubbed her face and took a deep, controlled breath. The sound of footsteps could be heard in the corridor and this was followed by a shadow, which appeared in the doorway. She looked up to see Lucy smiling back at her. She knew at once that she was going to be okay.

  Epilogue

  The two figures negotiated the trail leading to the top of the canyon quickly, relying on starlight to guide their way. Tourists were forbidden to enter the park at this time so they had to be wary of being spotted by any rangers unlucky enough to be assigned the night shift. The outback was a treacherous place at any time, but night time was when the threat was at its most potent. The pair travelled light, with just one small backpack between them.

  ‘Here will be fine,’ said the one who had led the way.

  ‘Do you want me to...you know; give you a little privacy?’ asked her partner, whom was carrying the bag.

  ‘That’s not necessary. I think it is fitting that you are here for this final goodbye. I also think that Dad would too.’

  ‘I understand.’

  The second woman removed the bag from her shoulder and unzipped a side pouch, taking out the urn and passing it to her partner.

  ‘It’s kind of weird,’ said the first woman. ‘We’re not just laying to rest Dad, but also our former lives. After tonight there will be no more Lucinda Skye or November Rayne. What does that leave us with?’

  ‘Each other. Besides, we still have our memories even if there are some among them that we would rather leave behind.’

  ‘You’re right; from this moment on it is what lies ahead that counts and we have to ensure that we make the most of it.’

  She lifted the lid off of the urn and held the receptacle at arm’s length before slowly tipping the contents into the wind, where it would be distributed throughout the canyon forever. Once it was empty, she took her lover by the hand and they both turned their eyes skywards towards a million billion stars. Like their future, the possibilities were endless.

  Two thousand miles away, in a casino in Darwin, there was another who was also making a fresh start that night. With nothing but the clothes he wore and his humble poker stake, acquired from a swift cash sale of his motorbike. He had everything to lose. The dealer flipped him his cards. It was a strong hand. He closed his eyes and waited for the cards of his opponents to be revealed to him. Then he placed his bet, confident in the knowledge that he could not lose.

  The End...

  Book 2 - Emerald Sky

  Chapter 1

  A vast horde lined the platform waiting for the train to arrive. It was the peak of rush hour and workers of white collar and blue parried for prime position, impatiently trying to guess where the carriage doors would settle. All were eager to be carried on to someplace else; be it a relaxing home or a welcoming bar. Each unaware of the remarkable young man about to enter into their midst.

  Jimmy was on a tight schedule and the crowds were only going to make it tighter. With no margin for error, every second lost could easily equate to a life lost later. This was the burden he carried. It was the price he paid for his unique power - a power sought by all who knew of its existence.

  There was no telling who or even how many were attempting to track his movements. The only certainty was that they would never give up. They would not stop until he was in their custody.

  Anonymity was his best defence and the packed locomotive fortified him well. It did a far greater job of shielding him than any of the alternate modes of transportation could. Flying would have gotten him to his destination sooner, but the threat posed by airport security was too great, even for him. Every terminal was essentially a quarantine zone, which could be locked down at a moment’s notice. The last thing he wanted was to let them fence him into a corner – for their safety as much as his. When his instinct took over, it controlled every aspect of his being. The ability to exercise restraint was not an option.

  As the doors opened, he let the more eager of the commuters, the ones who had stood in the aisle long before the station had even come into view, get off unimpeded. It was the usual mix of stressed out workers and expectant tourists. They jerked and jostled their way from the train onto the lifts and escalators that would take them to the surface. If his intuition was correct (it always was) they would be safer staying underground.

&n
bsp; With the more heavily laden passengers still struggling out of their seats, he slipped quietly from the carriage and took an escalator to street level. The sun was only just starting its descent and the tightly focused light it cast was a nuisance to his eyes. He put on his sunglasses before stopping at a kiosk beside the exit in order to buy a paper.

  The news held little interest to him, but that was no matter as he had no intention of reading it. Sometimes the warnings arrived late and sometimes they did not come at all. Whatever happened, he needed to stay alert and be prepared for any eventuality. When bent in half, a tightly rolled newspaper had the potential to do a lot of damage; certainly more than his small, bony fists were capable of inflicting. He was a slight man, and as such he thought it prudent to seize any advantage offered his way.

  Violence did not come naturally to Jimmy. He despised every aspect of it. The problem was that no matter what he did and where he went, violence was never far behind.

  Take the incident with the biker gang in Townsville. All he had wanted was to prevent a mugging - to stop an elderly lady being parted from her purse. Before he knew it, he was surrounded by five guys. He did not mean to hurt any of them. Usually thugs like these give up once they realise they cannot win and he had assumed this would be the case.

  Then he saw the knife.

  Sometimes he sees too much and that is what happened then. Even now, he wonders if it could have ended differently; if he actually had the power to change any of it.

  Not that past failure had any bearing on his present. He was not even sure if he should be regarding them as failures. What was meant to transpire would and who could argue with that? He was simply a character in the great story of human existence. If there was a God-like author out there, then fate rested on their conscience not his.

  Jesus – was he really thinking like that? There was a time, not so long ago, when life had been simpler. Much simpler. Back then he was little more than a laughing stock; the town fool. Yet when he looks back on those days it is with a fond heart. If he could rewind the clock, he would. He would give anything to go back to Jackson’s Hill. To take up a bar stool and chat with Mindy, the landlady of his old local, the Sly Fox. Or to be reprimanded by Lucas, the town’s solitary enforcer of law and order, on some minor charge that would always be dropped on an apology or a promise. Even his old nemeses, the Carlton brothers, would provide welcome company.

  Now they were all gone. An entire town swallowed whole by the desert. He knew there was no going back. He could only go forward, compelled to follow in the footsteps of his unique intuition.

  As he travelled deeper into the city, skyscrapers shielded him from the worst of the sun’s rays, but he stuck with the sunglasses. It was always useful to have a disguise however small it may be. He also liked to keep his eyes covered.

  When gripped by his power he would often focus on things that were invisible to others. If anybody noticed him reacting to these visions of things to come, it would appear strange. It would draw unnecessary attention. And attention was the last thing Jimmy needed.

  He continued walking until the office blocks gave way to luxury harbour-side bars and restaurants. The smell of caffeine and alcohol intermingled, lending a potent, expectant intoxication to the air. The crowds fed on it. From family vacationers to young couples and carefree backpackers, everybody wanted to be a part of the action. Day, evening or night – this place was always busy.

  As soon as it came into view, the target was immediately obvious. It was the most iconic structure in the country and easily recognisable around the world. Tourists converged on all sides like ants. Not one of them aware that somewhere inside Sydney Opera House, there was a bomb.

  ***

  Special Agent Esteban Cruz kept a careful eye on his mark. The crosshairs of his rifle sight remained solidly on the back of Jimmy’s head – drawn on like a tattoo.

  His finger was not on the trigger.

  If the boy’s extensive file was to be believed, there would be little point. It was said the kid could bite down on the barrel of a gun and still avoid the bullet. Not that Esteban would take a shot even if he could. The order was clear; under no circumstance should any harm come to Jimmy Johnson. If not for that stipulation, he never would have taken the job.

  There was a time when he had not been so noble in his assignments. Born in South America and raised in its northern counterpart, his ethnicity meant that after dedicating himself to service, he had been sent back across the border in order to infiltrate the many cartels that swamped both sides with their poisonous merchandise.

  It was a dirty job and some of the things he was called upon to do tainted not only his conscience, but his very soul. Eventually, he had been betrayed and abandoned by his masters and vowed never to go back. Of course, it was a life that was not so easy to escape. After a time freelancing as a mercenary, helping only those who had nowhere else to turn, he had found himself back in the fold. This time the enemy was no longer the Drug Lords, but Terror itself.

  From the deserts of Iraq to the mountains of Afghanistan the war had raged on. Now a more powerful threat was rising. There was talk of world conflict entering a new phase. Rumours abounded of a scientist who had devised a weapon so powerful that it targeted not the flesh, but actual human spirit. Whoever controlled such technology would become the greatest superpower of all. They would be able to set the course of history to their own desire; for good or for ill.

  Esteban’s mission was simple. Apprehend Jimmy Johnson, for he was the key to gaining control of this power. Whoever could conquer the boy would one day conquer the world.

  ***

  From a distance, the curved walls of the outer shells appeared smooth, almost organic. Up close, Jimmy could see they were actually made from an intricate mosaic of small tiles. There was no other structure on Earth quite like it. It was a triumphant marriage of creativity and engineering. The elegance was, of course, lost on the young psychic. To him, it was nothing more than a giant shower cubicle turned inside out.

  He patiently walked the outer perimeter, waiting for his prompt. Occasionally, he would stop to avoid stepping into the frame of a tourist photograph. There were so many of them around – all potential casualties and not one of them aware of the danger they were in or of the one person who had the power to save their lives.

  When he had completed his first lap, he began a second. Time was all it took. It was time that held the solution to all puzzles. Causality was merely a means of getting from a question to an answer. If he waited long enough, the answer would always come. Before embarking on a third circuit, he was given his cue; a translucent phantom taking to the steps and entering the building.

  It had taken some time for him to get used to this type of vision. When he experienced them he was presented with two overlaying worlds separated only by time. His future played out before him like a virtual movie. Sometimes the separation was by minutes and at others, just seconds. When the future was close, as it was now, he had only to follow the phantom image of himself from moments hence to be led to where he needed to be.

  A performance was about to start and the main auditoriums were closed to those without a ticket. He watched his ghostly doppelganger carefully as it mingled with the crowd in duplicate, those who occupied the here and now, and those ghostly figures from the near future.

  As it passed by an elderly couple, he saw his future self deftly reach into the lady’s bag and take from it two tickets. Just moments later, he saw the same couple enter the foyer from behind him. He let them pass him by and then he quickened his pace to overtake them, relieving them of their tickets as he did so.

  The theft did not weigh too heavily on his conscience. After all, it was not like he had a choice. He was merely following the script as it was presented to him.

  As he handed one of the illicit entry passes to the ticket inspector, he could see an echo of the same inspector arguing with the old couple as they searched the lady’s bag in vain for
their tickets. Not for the first time he had committed the perfect crime.

  Once inside, he resumed his mission. A crowd had gathered in a secondary foyer directly outside of the auditorium. There was a large Aboriginal painting covering the entire side wall, which was being admired by the concert-goers waiting for an usher to show them to their seats. Others queued at the bar or stared out of the windows at the harbour beyond. The translucent form of Jimmy’s ever so slightly older self appeared to be fixated with a different view entirely.

  Three men, possibly of Middle-Eastern origin, were in front of him. Their features were vague and indistinct (they were also mere phantoms) and before Jimmy could fully assess what threat, if any, they may pose, his other self, quite literally, leapt into action.

  Jimmy was awestruck as he watched himself jump head-on into one of the men. The scuffle was controlled and concise. His future self wrestled the man to the ground with ease, avoiding his foe’s attempts to strike him with all the fluidity of a ballet dancer. Jimmy then saw the other version of himself tear open the man’s coat to reveal a bomb vest. He was unable to make out any detail as he watched his phantom self thrust out a hand and tear out a wire. Of course, detail at this stage was unimportant as when the time came, he would know exactly what to do.

  Another of the men, who Jimmy now knew without doubt to be terrorists, grabbed a female bystander and placed a knife to her throat. The weapon brought back painful memories, but he did not have time to dwell on the past. All that mattered was the future, which to him was almost as tangible as the present. He could see it in the man’s eyes that he was prepared to slit her throat. He could also see it in the woman’s eyes that she knew this too.

  Fear removes all lies, displaying emotions like the pages of a book. Jimmy watched on and noted that as his other self slowly rose up to his feet under forceful instruction from the hostage taker, he reached behind his back to where the newspaper he had bought earlier was tucked into his pants. In the present, the paper was still in his hand, but he quickly transferred it to where it needed to be. At this point the vision ended and it was time for the rerun in real time.