Diamond Sky Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3

by David Clarkson

  ‘What did you expect to find?’ asked Lucy, when Emmy got back into the car.

  ‘This wasn’t what I came for. There may be hope yet.’

  She restarted the car and continued on to the town. Every street, every building, was deserted. Jackson’s Hill had become a ghost town. This was not mere abandonment, however. The residents had not left by choice, but been dragged away against their will as evidenced by the open doors and clumsily discarded bags lying on the pavement.

  Further up Main Street they came to the police station. In the garden was a dead chicken. Emmy nudged it with her foot, exploring for signs of injury. Where her boot touched flesh, a portion of the animal crumbled into dust. She thought back to the video Lucas had sent her. The one she had viewed just hours earlier. She wondered if this was the same chicken. If so, she could easily determine the cause of death. The bird had traded in its remaining life force in order to teleport from point to point. It was a trick favoured by her grandfather, but unlike the crazed old man, this animal was not so cruel as to replenish its energy with that stolen from others.

  Lucas’ office was as neat and tidy as ever when she entered. Emmy went straight to the filing cabinet where she knew her file would be located. It was of no use to anybody, but she hoped that the symbolic gesture of destroying it would give her a small amount of comfort.

  It did not.

  She then powered up his computer and erased the soft copy. Lucy, meanwhile, had found the gun cabinet. This one was locked, but with the inhuman strength only a tulpa could muster, she tore the door to it clean off.

  ‘How did you do that?’ asked Emmy.

  Lucy shrugged.

  ‘It didn’t feel secure,’ she replied. ‘Perhaps termites weakened it.’

  The chances of Lucas letting a termite infestation go unchecked were slim, but Emmy gave the girl the benefit of the doubt. She was still in a partial daze from everything she had been through and was readily willing to turn a blind eye to things that would otherwise have troubled her.

  She then watched as her new lover removed a shotgun and a box of cartridges from the now useless cabinet. The plan she had formulated in her head had not gotten past figuring out how to get out of town and as far away as possible before anybody knew she was missing. The need to defend herself had not even crossed her mind – until now.

  ‘Do you really think we need a gun?’ she asked.

  ‘If you want to eat,’ replied the tulpa. ‘There won’t be too many supermarkets where we’re going.’

  ‘You’ve hunted before?’

  The other girl ignored the question. Just seeing Lucy holding the weapon put Emmy on edge and she glanced nervously out of the window. Nobody was coming – yet. Each moment they wasted hanging around town lessened the distance they would have between them and their pursuers.

  ‘We should go now,’ she said. ‘I’ve seen enough. If Pops had massacred the townspeople, there would be bodies. The military obviously got to them first. It’s just you and me now.’

  The tulpa smiled, like the circumstances could not be any more favourable.

  ‘That’s probably for the best,’ it told her. ‘You shouldn’t waste anymore thoughts on what has happened here. I’ll take care of you from here on in.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Emmy was not thinking straight and glad to relinquish any further responsibility she had to Jackson’s Hill. They switched cars to one that would take the authorities a little longer to trace and then set out into the unknown. The two of them against the world. Emmy and an imaginary being she thought was her lover.

  More than three years had passed since then and even though she was no longer a fugitive, Emmy wondered if she had ever stopped running. The day she left Jackson’s Hill, she had been living a lie. Perhaps it was time to finally let go. To accept that Lucy, the real Lucy, was never coming back.

  Chapter 8

  ‘You look so different,’ said Constance, as she met with Emmy and Charlie in the lobby of the research complex. ‘I love your new look.’

  At their first meeting, Emmy had sported a freshly dyed pixie cut in order to throw her pursuers off her scent. Her hair had now grown into a neat bob with the natural brown having replaced the black dye.

  ‘Well, it made little sense to keep disguising myself once your friends in the military stopped hunting me,’ replied Emmy.

  Constance smiled awkwardly and then turned her attention to the other of her new colleagues.

  ‘You must be Professor Nguyen,’ she said. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’

  Before Charlie had a chance to reply, Emmy did so for him.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she interrupted. ‘He has heard all about you too.’

  Emmy’s bitter rival was tempted to raise an objection to the backhanded insult, but quickly thought better of it. She knew that Emmy would likely have taken a great deal of persuading to agree to her return and it would not take much to have that agreement rescinded.

  ‘In that case there is no need to waste any time on superficial pleasantries,’ said Constance. ‘Perhaps we could get to work right away.’

  ‘An excellent idea,’ said Charlie, butting in before Emmy had a chance to speak. ‘We will take you to the laboratory at once.’

  ***

  Charlie showed Dr Stark to her workstation whilst Emmy retreated to the far side of the lab. She may have conceded to allowing the other woman to come onboard, but she still intended to limit contact with her to only that which was entirely unavoidable. Dr Stark had betrayed her before and Emmy had no doubt that she would do so again given the opportunity.

  ‘When do I take my first trip?’ asked Constance. ‘I may be a little rusty, but I’m looking forward to revisiting the astral plane.’

  Charlie quickly glanced over at Emmy, but his friend was otherwise distracted by some prior day’s case notes.

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ he replied. ‘We’ve currently suspended all fieldwork. There’s enough data requiring analysis to keep us busy for quite some time.’ Then noting the obvious disappointment in the woman’s expression, he added, ‘that won’t be a problem, will it?’

  ‘No, no – of course not,’ replied Constance. ‘Just show me where to start.’

  He handed her a two hundred page file filled with Emmy’s case notes on numerous interactions with the recently deceased. He then gave her two more files that were both as thick as phone books. These contained all of the technical readouts and mathematical data regarding the experiments.

  ‘This should keep you busy,’ he told her.

  ‘Thanks,’ she replied, trying not to appear intimidated by the volume of material thrust upon her on the first day.

  She got to work straight away. Rather than wading into the larger, technical files, she immersed herself in Emmy’s case notes. The similarities to her own work were immediately apparent, but what really caught her attention was the way in which her new colleague chose to interpret the encounters. It did not fit with her conclusions on the matter at all.

  She cast her eyes over to where Emmy sat, hoping to gauge her mood and likely receptiveness to any approach. The other woman’s body language gave nothing away. There was no other option. She simply had to take a chance and hope that Emmy was willing to listen to her.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said, hoping to attract Emmy’s attention as she approached her desk. Receiving no acknowledgement, she carried on undeterred. ‘I’ve been going through your notes. This is impressive stuff.’

  This time Emmy did look up. Albeit, with a cynical detachment in her eyes.

  ‘Do you really think I need your validation or even care?’ she asked, the bitterness in her voice punctuating every syllable.

  ‘Actually, I didn’t come over to offer my validation, not that it would matter to you anyway.’

  ‘It wouldn’t.’

  Constance took a breath. This was proving even harder than she had expected.

  ‘What I mean to say is that I do not quite
agree with your hypothesis?’

  Emmy cocked an eyebrow.

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘In the way that it is just plain wrong,’ replied Constance, finally allowing some confidence into her inflexion. ‘You say here that the newly deceased are drawn to one another through some primeval desire only to be stripped of all consciousness and emotion when they meet.’

  Emmy shrugged.

  ‘That’s what I wrote. It’s a first-hand account of what I witnessed on my astral travels. Since you were not actually there with me, I am intrigued that you think yourself in a position to make any amendments to the script.’

  ‘I’m not questioning what you saw. I’m questioning how you have interpreted it. To make the claim that these beings are drawn to each other through desire is too subjective a way of looking at it. How do you know what they want? It seems to me that all any residual consciousness would experience in the moments after death is confusion. They would not even be able to comprehend what is happening to them - to their essence. The fact that they appear drawn to one another is unlikely to be by their choosing.’

  ‘So what is your take on this?’ asked Emmy, her tone now more inquisitive than confrontational.

  ‘I’m not sure. From what I previously witnessed, I see nothing but a curious quirk of nature. As a society we are weaned on tales of an afterlife – that when we die all we have to do is step into the light and everything will be okay. That is all that these beings are doing. They are stepping into the light, except that it doesn’t lead to heaven. By some strange glitch in the universe it just propels the final remnants of their life force into some far flung corner of space where it will eventually fade into nothingness; that is if it’s not completely annihilated in the process.’

  Emmy shook her head.

  ‘It has to run deeper than that. I refuse to believe that what takes place is just an accident. Maybe it’s written in their DNA.’

  ‘DNA is a physical property. All of that gets left behind at the moment of death.’

  ‘Okay then, maybe not that. What if it’s a similar process, but not on a physical level? Maybe their essence has a pre-programmed routine that it too has to follow.’

  ‘You mean some sort of spirit coding?’

  ‘It’s a possibility. Think about it. The body is nothing but a highly advanced machine. It runs according to a set of rules. The body is the hardware and the spirit is its software. From the moment every cell is destined to replace itself to the colour of your eyes – it’s all written in genetic code. Just maybe that code extends a little farther than previously thought. What if when we die, we are programmed to seek out another who is going through the same process?’

  ‘To what end? I cannot see any evolutionary advantage to such a thing. It just doesn’t make any sense.’

  ‘You still aren’t getting it,’ said Emmy. ‘What I’m trying to say is that what if the very essence of life has been programmed?’

  Constance finally registered her colleague’s meaning.

  ‘I don’t like where this is leading,’ she said. ‘I may not have been through the wormhole that these entities create, but if your accounts are accurate it seems that neither have they. As you crossed the threshold, you seemed to have taken all of their memories with you, but not their actual essence – their life force. The places you believe you went to do not actually exist. They were nothing but a property of the technology we have here. Once you returned, I suspect they quickly ceased to be.’

  ‘You can’t know that,’ protested Emmy.

  ‘And neither can you,’ replied Constance. ‘I understand why you’re holding onto these ideals, I really do. The fact is the most likely scenario is that when the residents of Jackson’s Hill had their cords cut, their passing wouldn’t have been any different to all of the others you and I have witnessed. They will have been annihilated.’

  ‘I cannot believe that. Besides, I already know you’re wrong. Jimmy survived the transition.’

  ‘Survived?’

  ‘You know what I mean. His consciousness remained intact. I was with him.’

  ‘You’re certain of this?’

  Emmy closed her eyes and thought back to when she had first travelled through the wormhole. Upon emerging at the other side she had been alone. Jimmy did not come until later. It was possible that he had been a creation of her imagination. If so, it would not be the first time such a thing had happened. Much to Emmy’s frustration, Constance appeared to have made a valid point.

  ‘If you have an alternative hypothesis, I suggest you put it down on paper, otherwise we are sticking with what we have,’ she told Constance.

  ‘Very well, it’s your project.’

  Constance returned to her desk feeling a great deal more confident than when she had first arrived at the laboratory. She buried her head into the files for the remainder of the working day and made sure to keep out of Emmy’s way. She then waited back until she was alone in the laboratory with Professor Nguyen.

  Charlie pulled up a chair next to where she was sitting.

  ‘Did you speak to Emmy?’ he asked.

  ‘I told her exactly what you told me to,’ she replied.

  ‘Excellent. Hopefully, you’ve done enough to plant a seed of doubt in her mind. The sooner she accepts that the people of Jackson’s Hill are not coming back, the better. There are a lot of powerful people funding this project and they’re going to want to start seeing results soon. We can’t afford to waste anymore time chasing the impossible.’

  Constance nodded, dispassionately.

  ‘I never understood the big deal anyway. They were just a bunch of hicks, weren’t they?’

  ‘No!’ said Charlie, the firmness of his voice bordering on aggression. ‘They were people’s mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters and friends. If I thought there was a way to save them then I would pursue it to the ends of the universe. Do you understand?’

  ‘I’m sorry if I offended you. It was callous of me and won’t happen again.’

  ‘Make sure of it. And just because I asked you to go behind Dr Rayne’s back this one time, don’t take that as an excuse to show her any less respect. Emmy is my friend and partner. This whole set up wouldn’t be possible without her. You would not have a job without her. You’d do well to remember that fact.’

  Constance nodded, with humility this time. After retiring to her quarters for the night, she began making plans for the rest of her tenure. It was now clear that Charlie and Emmy were a lot tighter than she had originally anticipated when he called her with the offer of work and the terms that it carried. He may have had noble intentions for playing her off against his partner, but having made that choice she now saw no moral conflict in doing the same to him. Charlie wanted to instil doubt in Emmy’s mind for his own purposes, but Constance now saw a way that she could use it to her advantage. Emmy was now the key to her getting access to the astral plane.

  Chapter 9

  He held onto her for as long as he could. It did not matter that he no longer had a body to go back to. Just going home would be enough. His real home, that is. Not this strange place they had found themselves in. Something about it was off somehow. It did not feel right. He did not belong. If he could find Emmy, he thought that things would work out for the best.

  A sharp pull (or was it a push?) had separated them. Jimmy landed on his back. His eyes were closed and he dreaded what images he would be confronted with when he opened them. Of course, anything would be better than returning to the cot. It was little more than a prison. He could not get out, he could not cry for help (well, he could literally cry, but not in a way that could adequately convey the kind of help he needed) and worst of all, he seemed to have no control over anything that happened to him.

  Seeing the future was a gift, but having to repeat the past seemed like a punishment. It was an inversion of the powers he had possessed in life. He could not change what had already passed and there was no advantage to knowing what lay ahead this
time.

  Before opening his eyes, he called out her name.

  ‘Emmy!’

  There was no response, but he was determined not to give up so easily.

  ‘Emmy!’

  ‘Jimmy?’

  He opened his eyes to find himself facing the one person he had so desperately sought, but she returned his gaze with a look of complete bewilderment.

  ‘You’re name is Jimmy, right?’ she added. ‘You’re from Jackson’s Hill.’

  ‘Of course, it’s me,’ he replied. ‘What happened? I thought you were going home.’

  ‘I never forget a face. Besides, Lucas used to talk about you all the time. I can’t believe you’re here. Did they find a cure?’

  ‘Emmy, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m dead – even you can’t cure that.’

  ‘You escaped, but that’s impossible. It’s been nearly a year. The radiation should have driven you completely insane long before now. You better come inside so I can check you out.’

  As she led him along the track to the abandoned ranch she had procured, it started to come back to him. This was not Emmy. At least not the real Emmy. He was reliving another period from his past, except that events had moved on considerably this time. He had found himself reliving perhaps the most significant period in his life. When he had been at his lowest point, completely bereft of hope, he had found Emmy and she had brought him back from the brink.

  It was exactly as he remembered it, which was his biggest problem. Emmy did not respond to any of the questions he offered her now, but to the questions he had asked her years earlier when the meeting had taken place for real. He was merely a bystander to events beyond his control. He wondered if it had ever been any other way given how the radiation had effectively removed free will from his destiny.

  By relaxing his thoughts and surrendering to the moment, he found it easy to slip into character for the scene. Before long, he was that same Jimmy from the past, forgetting all about what had followed. Just as he had done in real life, he easily passed all the tests of his psychic ability that Emmy could think up.