The sight of Adam, still bearing the appearance of one in his early forties, widely known to be over nine hundred years old, was a tremendous shock. The gasps of those nearby were quickly repeated throughout the Cavern, and within moments the message went viral through the underground city of telepaths. The beach was soon crowded as the current population gathered around the beach, all asking the same question.
How had this happened?
“Adam did his job well,” Will told those assembled. “He built their confidence, argued for courses of action that were to our benefit, and brought us information available only to those operating at the very highest levels of the Aliomenti hierarchy. Such a course of action was filled with danger. If he ever slipped, ever thought of the benefits to us from his actions, his very life would be at risk. To the very end, he never betrayed his efforts on our behalf—until he threw himself in front of a sword meant for another, sacrificing his own life to save that of another.” He paused, looking at the ground, waiting for some of the fresh new emotion to pass, well aware that there were hundreds of moist faces nearby despite the moderate temperature inside the Cavern. He looked back up at those assembled, all standing in respectful silence. “Such sacrifice isn’t something the Aliomenti can understand. They live for themselves, for the moment. Adam, like each of us, understood that there are greater purposes and a higher good than simple temporary pleasures. When he saw that greater good threatened, he acted without hesitation. There are some changes we don’t want to see in the world, and it’s just as important to prevent those changes as it is to generate the positive changes we’ve all focused on. Adam understood that.” He paused and took a deep breath, choking back the emotion. “For that, he will have my eternal gratitude, admiration, and thanks. And I vow to you, Adam, that your sacrifice will not be in vain. We will one day see the scourge of the Aliomenti—their arrogance, their elitism—gone.”
He watched their faces. Faces filled with determination, with anger, with eagerness to do something. He could almost taste the eagerness in each of them, ready to do something to answer the travesty the Aliomenti had unleashed on them. Will had never specifically said that the Aliomenti had killed Adam, but they’d inferred the truth. If he gave the word at that moment to take to the flying craft and submarines for an invasion of Aliomenti Headquarters, they’d leave immediately. He could hear the gentle gurgling of the water in the artificial rivers feeding into the tunnel, surprised that so large a crowd could make so little noise.
There were at least ten thousand Aliomenti operating under Arthur’s heavy hand, most worked in plain sight as upper management in the hundreds of banks and other businesses the Aliomenti controlled. Only around one thousand worked at any given time on the island housing their Headquarters. That Headquarters served as the primary home for Arthur, and the Hunters and Assassin called it home between missions. The Alliance had perhaps two thousand, and many of those were operating in the field, all with access to either invisible flying craft or submarines. They’d be able to mass the entire Alliance population—including the fifty Alliance “babies” possessed of a level of Energy power even Will and Hope struggled to match—and assault the Headquarters before the overwhelming numbers of the Aliomenti could return for a defense.
It was a strategy that would work.
They could annihilate Aliomenti Headquarters with minimal loss of their own numbers and, just as important, minimal loss of life for the human population.
Arthur, the Hunters, and The Assassin would be gone.
Without Arthur, the remaining Aliomenti might well join them, and with triple their current numbers, they could well usher in a golden age for all humanity.
And yet it would also mean altering history. No future meeting of his younger self and Hope, no births of Josh and Angel. He’d never be sent back in time. Hope would die at the hands of Arthur’s gang before ever changing her name. The entirety of the Aliomenti movement might well vanish before Adam arrived in the North Village with the morange berries, before any of them mixed the Energy skills with the immortality of the ambrosia.
Would the world be a better place as a result?
He walked away, over the bridges spanning the small rivers and streams, heading toward the small building he called home. He had to leave before the emotion of the moment, the scent of anticipation from the battalion massed at the beach, caused him to say something he’d later regret.
He wasn’t sure if it would be a decision he’d regret. How much pain did everyone have to endure?
Will flung himself on his bed, letting the tears flow freely. He pulled the diary from his pocket, feeling the texture one more time. He unrolled the scroll and tapped the screen.
Stay the course.
He threw the computer against the wall and slept.
Will woke several hours later, refreshed sufficiently to move about the Cavern city. The normal buzz of the city had halted; everyone recognized that they’d suffered a great loss and all were participating in the preparations for Adam’s burial. There was a handful of carpenters living there; while few research or building projects required woodworking skills these days, many in the Alliance found working with wood a soothing hobby, and many residents enjoyed having at least one bit of solid wood furniture in their homes. Three of woodworkers set to work constructing a higher quality coffin for Adam, an act Will and Hope appreciated. Hope watched the transfer of the body from the simple pine box to the sculptured, engraved maple, stained to a beautiful finish. She watched as the transport box was moved back to the beach, clutching Will’s arm. He knew she was thinking about the last time she’d been witness to a body in such a simple structure. It had been during the subterfuge they’d used to spirit her from the North Village after she’d been beaten by the villagers for hiding her discoveries about Energy. Her injuries had been so severe that Will had convinced all present that Hope, then known as Elizabeth, had died. He’d used a combination of opium and Energy to keep her alive but unconscious, but the sealed coffin had been so well-constructed she’d nearly suffocated to death inside before he’d opened sufficient breathing vents with the nanos. It wasn’t an experience she’d ever forget, and even now her emotional state and memory of the experience was so powerful she wondered if Adam had lived in silence inside that wooden box after his apparent death, been buried alive inside the ice without any way to save himself.
Those charged with creating a tombstone asked Will if he knew Adam’s year of birth, and Will had to admit he didn’t know. They overcame that difficulty by noting the date of his death, a date that would live in infamy, a day that saw the loss of the timeless, ageless man known as Adam.
He slept fitfully that night. The nightmares still came. The bombs still fell, smoke still clouded his eyes, powder and fear still burned his nose. He felt the warm blood dripping on him and sat up in bed, breathing heavily, realizing that the dream had been a memory.
They buried Adam the next day.
It had been centuries since Will had been to a proper funeral. The cause of death in that one had been murder as well, but in that circumstance the participants in the funeral had been those responsible for the victim’s death. Here, he saw true grief expressed; faces moist with tears of sadness. The air in the Cavern felt heavy with the sorrow.
They gathered on the beach, the largest open space in the Cavern. Adam’s coffin sat atop a platform resting on the sand, the box open so that all of them might get one final glance at him, to sear his image into their memories. For Will, it was a painful reminder that the nightmares weren’t simply an overactive imagination.
Hope moved forward to speak. “This man was part of the world of the Aliomenti since their founding. He had access to wealth and power beyond the imagination of nearly all who have ever lived.” She glanced at his still form, and then back to the crowd. “Yet he chose to forego much of that, especially the ability to wield power and control over others. He chose instead to work with us and to further the mission we’ve g
iven ourselves. When he saw another in danger, he did not hesitate to act. That’s all it would have taken to save his life: one moment of hesitation. I don’t know what might have happened. But I do know that when Adam saw two men try to kill me… he willingly took my place.” Her face moistened anew. “I wish he hadn’t. But I do know this. That was not the action of a member of the Aliomenti Elite. It was the action of a member of the Alliance. And it is for that reason that he will make his permanent home here, among his people, where he rightfully belongs.”
Hope moved to the open coffin and stood before it momentarily. She bent down, placing her hand on Adam’s chest, lowered her head, and kissed his forehead. Will saw her whisper the words “thank you” as she stepped away.
It took three hours for the Alliance to follow suit, each of them stopping to pay their final respects, before Will was there, the last in line. He didn’t know what to say. The two men had fought and argued and quarreled like brothers, but in the end Adam had acted to save the life of the woman Will loved—not knowing Will had already shielded her from harm. There was no greater gift he could be given. He bowed his head before Adam in silent thanks.
Then he closed the coffin. The lid made a deep sound that reverberated, seeming to Will to shake the entire Cavern. In many ways it was the closure Will needed. There would be no miracle cures as with Hope and Eva. Adam was truly gone.
They moved away from the beach, heading toward one of the indoor farms at the far end of the underground city. There, they found a hole already dug in the fresh earth, the tombstone installed beneath the branches of the largest ambrosia tree in the city. Adam, perhaps the oldest of the original Aliomenti, would forever rest beneath the trees which bore the fruit that granted him such a long life.
More tears were shed, and more stories were told. And then the members of the Alliance went about their normal business. New recruits began training in Energy, and researchers headed to their various labs to see what progress they might make for the remainder of the day. Others studied the regions they'd chosen as their base of operation in the world Outside, the place where they would make the world a better place, trying to understand the language, local customs, and deepest problems of the populace. A handful had just returned from such Outside missions; those spent their time relaxing, refreshing themselves with the pure air, the heady scent of the ambrosia trees, and the permission to openly use Energy at all times.
Will and Hope moved to their small home. Though they were rarely in the Cavern at the same time, they did allow themselves this singular acknowledgment of the closeness of their relationship. It allowed them the privacy to discuss their most private concerns, concerns that had reached new depths of despair with Adam’s passing.
“My last tests with the cells of the newcomers were inconclusive,” Will said. “Again.”
“More good news for the day,” Hope said. Her voice was quiet and quivering. It was so very unlike her, to be so distraught. While she’d have short bursts of despair or surprise—as when Will had first introduced her to the self-piloting submarine more than two centuries ago—she rarely stayed down or saddened. But she was clearly on the verge of breaking.
Will put an arm around her. “You said it yourself. The loss of Adam doesn’t give us permission to quit. It gives us permission to find a new answer, a new way through to the end.”
Hope nodded, her face still damp from the tears she’d cried. “I know that, truly I do. But he died trying to save me, Will. Why would he do that?”
“He thought you were worth saving. He’s not the first.” Eva had once attacked Arthur for striking Hope—then known as Elizabeth—and Will had worked feverishly to restore her health after the first residents at the Aliomenti North Village beat her nearly to death. Adam was only the latest to work to protect her, but was the first to give the ultimate sacrifice.
“Why, though? You had me protected. Right?”
Will nodded. “I threw nanos your way to shield you; it was a less conspicuous way to protect you from the swords. But in the instant I did that I also realized that nobody was watching us anyway, what with aerial bombing assault going on all around us. When I teleported to throw myself over you, he did the same, but he stood tall and took the blows meant for both of us.” He shook his head. “He was a brave man. He risked exposure and death every time he met with us. And he knew that the Aliomenti knew there was a traitor in their midst. Even if he’d survived, his appearance there meant he’d have a death sentence on his head for as long as he lived.”
“But—”
“Hope, listen to me,” Will said. “It’s so difficult to understand everything going on in someone else’s life. Adam did what he wanted to do. He believed that trading his life for yours was a sacrifice worth making, and he did so without complaint. I saw no sense of regret from him in those last few minutes. None. The best thing that can be done is to carry out the plan he worked with us to craft, and to make it work. I know that he’ll be helping us however he can.”
Hope took several steadying breaths. “There have been so many people who tried to give their lives for me, directly or indirectly. My mother and Adam are dead. Eva only just survived. You’re the only one who’s managed to avoid great physical harm in the process, and it’s not for lack of trying. But I will tell you this. I’m very tired of people attacking those I love for no crime other than being who they are. And if I’m still around when all of this planning, all of these memories of future history, all of these experiences we know or suspect will happen, when all of that is complete… I know exactly what I’m going to do. I’m going to do what our recently deceased friend chose not to do all those years ago.”
She took a deep breath, and her massive Energy stores crackled the very air around them with the intensity of her emotion. “I’m going to personally kill Arthur Lowell.”
XVI
Search
1969 A.D.
It was a conversation Will thought back on often, one he’d had with Hope five years after Adam’s death.
“What if she’s dead, Will? Perhaps that’s the reason we can’t find her.”
They’d learned that finding someone so proficient at hiding was no easy task. Will thought that the search would be straightforward. Eva would stay in one place long enough for them to locate her. Or perhaps she’d sense Adam’s loss and seek them out to get that confirmation. After nearly three decades of constant searching, though, they’d failed to find her.
Hope’s theory made sense. Eva had been alive as recently as the early 1940s, when Adam had died during the attack on Pearl Harbor, and Adam’s admonition to locate her had been made with that fact in mind. It wasn’t impossible to believe that Eva, like Adam, had met her demise in the intervening years.
“I don’t want to stop looking. Adam made it pretty clear to me that it was of utmost importance that we find her.”
Hope sighed. “I don’t want to give up, but if he just wanted us to know she was alive so we could let her know about his death… we don’t need to do that if she’s dead too, right?”
Will frowned, trying to connect several points of information. “I don’t think that’s the reason he wanted us to find her, though.” His voice trailed off as he struggled to articulate what was on his mind.
“What other reason could there be, though? Did he just want us to reunite after so many centuries apart? I’ve looked, Will. I looked for her before, and I’ve looked for her since. If she’s alive, she has no interest in being found.”
“He told me that finding Eva was the most important we could do.” He fixed Hope with a steady gaze. “He said that it was even more important than our research.”
Hope’s eyes widened and her face was touched with pain.
He’d tried to bring it up in the years since Adam’s death, but Hope’s sense of guilt over the nature of Adam’s sacrifice didn’t encourage conversation about his final moments, including the words he’d spoken. When Will had told Hope he was focusing his time
Outside on looking for Eva, she’d asked why. But he’d never had the opportunity to discuss Adam’s other points; she’d ended the conversations.
The fact that he’d said it was more important than their research was difficult news to hear. The research had not gone well. What little progress they’d made was in identifying what the ambrosia did in terms of human reproduction. Will described it as the equivalent of reversing the polarity on magnets previously attracted. Rather than draw together, the ambrosia forced reproductive cells apart. They’d tried putting cells together outside the body to no avail.
Time was running short. Both of Will’s parents were now alive. Failure was becoming far too prominent a fact in their lives. The fact that Will was likely to vanish in some fashion in the next quarter century didn’t help.
“How could finding Eva help with our research?”
Will looked at the ground. “I think she found Ambrose before he died. And I think she found out his secret.” He reached inside his shirt. “Adam gave me these just before telling me to find Eva.” He pulled out the chain linking the small tubes and handed it to her.
Hope examined the chain and tubes. “I don’t recognize this material,” she murmured. She handed him the chain, which Will returned to its familiar spot around his neck. “But Will, that chain doesn’t mean Eva knew the secrets of ambrosia.”
“No, not by itself,” Will agreed. “But there’s logic to it, isn’t there? He knows the most critical thing we could learn over the next several decades was the secret of ambrosia. Especially if the secret cure requires a certain amount of time to implement.”
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