The God Peak

by Patrick Hemstreet

  “Yeah. Okay. Yeah.” He rose, gently taking Anton’s arms from around his neck, but pulling the boy tightly to his side. “Let’s go.”

  Lorstad, who had been watching the scene with his characteristic aloof interest, stirred slightly. “I will leave you to your work, gentlemen. I have something I must attend to.” Then he simply disappeared.

  “He do that a lot?” Mike asked.

  Chuck said plainly, “Yes. And no, you don’t get used to it. Now, I need to contact our people in the communications camp. You asked what you need to do. You need to destroy this.” He waved a hand at the mountain. “Or at least make it inaccessible. Is that something you can do?”

  A spark of zeal fired in Mike’s eyes. “Oh yeah, Doc. I can do that.”

  Sara moved with blinding speed toward the tent, her hands outstretched. A massive bow wave of pressure moved before her. Mini, out of its direct path, felt it as a pillow-fight blow that still sent her staggering back several steps. The tent bore the brunt of the attack, and Mini saw what was left of its canvas roof tear free and the walls sag inward like sails in the teeth of a gale. The tent collapsed, but not before Eugene escaped from the misshapen doorway.

  “The car!” Mini shouted at him. “Get to the car!”

  He hesitated, but only for a split second. Mini suspected that the look on her face was enough to dissuade him from debating the demand. He was helpless here; she wasn’t. She turned her attention back to the tent, which now sagged atop the lab tables. She saw a flutter near the tallest peak that she took to be Dice and Bren moving about beneath the canvas.

  Apparently, Sara saw it, too, for she launched herself at the movement. A second later the canvas tore, the sheared sides flying outward to reveal Dice and Bren huddled in the lee of the longest lab table.

  Sara’s lips drew back in a snarl. “Where’s Tim? What have you done with Tim?”

  “He’s fine,” Dice told her. “He’s just where he can’t do any harm.”

  “Harm? Damn you, Dice, I’ll show you harm!”

  She swept her arms forward, but Dice saw the attack coming. He flung his right arm out from behind his back. A lash of cabling unfurled, electricity sparking at the tip of each wire. It struck Sara’s feet and for a moment, a wild jitter of blue-white static danced around her body like an electric wet suit.

  Mini took the opportunity to hit her with another volley of fire pixies. Sara skipped backward in the air, shrieking in frustration. She wasted no time flailing at the pixies; instead she siphoned the electricity from the veil of energy she wore and directed it at Dice and Brenda. Dice managed to block it with his own charged field, but he lacked Sara’s experience and strength. Her attack bowled Dice and Bren over and knocked them clear of their cover. They sprawled, obviously shaken, amid the ruins of the tent.

  “Leave them alone!” Mini cried, advancing toward Sara. She forced herself to breathe, to keep her thoughts and emotions under control. She mustn’t let Sara get the better of her.

  “Where’s Tim?” Sara demanded again. “Is he there?” She directed her attention at the habitat cabin.

  “Maybe,” Mini said. “Are you going to find out by tearing the building apart?”

  “Maybe I’ll just invite myself in.” Sara feinted toward the cabin and Mini moved to block her. If she could make Sara waste time and energy going after the wrong target . . .

  “You’re being an idiot, Mini,” Sara told her. “You could save us all a lot of trouble and agony if you’d just get him and bring him to me.”

  “He’s . . . not here. We sent him away.”

  Sara threw back her head and laughed. “Mini-mouse, you are the world’s worst liar. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? You tell me which of these boxes my little Troll is in, okay? You do that, and I won’t do something like this.” She swung toward where the SUVs were parked.

  Were still parked. Because Eugene had gotten to the undamaged car and stalled. He had not driven away, nor had he escaped through the woods to Spiderweb. He stood by the driver’s-side door, watching approaching doom.

  Mini screamed at him to move, and he did, abandoning the SUV and turning to flee into the trees. She put herself in motion as well, but Sara was faster. The Alpha dropped from the air and hit the ground at a dead run. The slashing gesture she made with one arm at first seemed to do nothing, then a tall cedar in Eugene’s flight path groaned as if in agony and fell with a shriek of stressed wood and a tumble of limbs.

  “Eugene!” Mini shrieked, but he had already disappeared beneath the wildly tossing branches. Any cry he might have uttered was drowned by the thunder of the tree’s impact with the ground.

  Sara turned back to gloat, a triumphant look on her face—which quickly vanished with one glance at Mini. The young woman’s hard-won control exploded in a flash of white-hot fear and rage. In a heartbeat, she had clothed herself in a shimmering cloak of energy that all but blinded her. She thought thousands of tiny sprites into being, filling the air with burning darts that mobbed Sara as a swarm of sparrows might mob a crow.

  Sara howled in rage and pain and thrust herself back into the air, trying to escape the swarm. Distracted from her original target, she turned to face Mini. She was so intent on battling her way to the other Zeta, she didn’t seem to see Lanfen slip from the immersion cabin.

  Mini knew without a doubt that the martial arts master was coiling to spring. Stop! she thought. No!

  Somehow, Lanfen felt the tug of Mini’s thoughts and turned to look at her. Mini darted a glance toward the fallen tree. Lanfen didn’t hesitate. She ran straight for where Eugene had disappeared, leaving Mini to face Sara.

  The Alpha was charging at her physically now, trying to bull her way through the never-ending horde of stinging sprites. Mini upped the ante—the sprites became butterflies with wings like fiery razors—but still Sara came.

  Well, Mini thought. I guess I need a new trick.

  Inside the immersion cabin, Joey tried to ignore the sounds of conflict from outside, and watched Tim’s brain patterns on the EEG monitor for any sign that he was dreaming—or worse, shrugging off the effects of the entraining program. As far as Joey knew, every one of the Learned’s recruits had been willing, even eager, to go into the tanks. They’d never had to entrain someone as decidedly unwilling as Tim Desmond, and he was worried that such resistance would be enough for Tim to break free.

  He glanced over his shoulder at the door Lanfen had just exited. He knew she’d been trying to gauge when Sara was distracted enough that her entry onto the scene would be unnoticed until it was too late. He told himself she’d chosen the right moment. Everything he’d seen and heard of Doc Brenton’s ninja had convinced him that she was one of the most competent human beings he’d ever met or was likely to meet.

  A soft ping from the SDU instrument panel pulled his focus back to it. Something was happening in Tim’s brain. He was generating some random beta events, indicating anxious thought or attempts to move. There was no regular beta rhythm yet, but . . .

  Joey had one emergency option and that was to flood the Alpha’s oxygen feed with an atomized sedative. The problem was, Tim had already been hit with a maximum dosage of tranquilizer. Putting him further under with a different chemical could prove harmful—might even kill him. There was no way to know, and Joey definitely wasn’t a medical doctor.

  Joey wiped sweat from his upper lip and focused his attention on Tim’s brain waves, remembering Dice’s parting words, “Whatever you do, don’t let him dream.”

  Tim wasn’t dreaming, but he might be trying to do something just as dangerous.

  Butterflies. Damned pixies and butterflies. Sara’s silent contempt was tempered with a great deal of respect. The damned things hurt. They drew blood. What would Mini gin up next—unicorns with steel horns? Bunnies with tusks? Whatever she came up with, she could be no match for Sara Crowell.

  You can only do so much with a butterfly.

  Sara forced more power into her own energy aura but
was dismayed to realize it didn’t keep the burning flyers out. She skimmed just above the ground, batting them away with her arms, feeling the burn and bite of their sharp wings. She wiped at her face; the back of her hand came back stained red. The sight of her own blood threw her into an even greater rage. She went at Mini with a scream of pain and anger, her hands raised to pummel the stupid child with every bit of force at her disposal. She fed the power of her fury through her fingertips, unleashing it at point-blank range.

  Mini dissolved like mist in the sun.

  Sara came up short, her feet on terra firma. Well, that was something. For a moment, she was exultant. Then a feral growl behind her made her turn. Mini stood between Sara and the second metal prefab, panting, her face red, her eyes wild.

  Well, damn. Not dead, after all, but at least she was tiring. Sara approached with caution anyway, deciding that it would be best to use a little psychology.

  “Nice trick, Mini-mouse. Fortunately, I know you’re all art and no substance. Now, I’m willing to bet that Timmy is in that building you’re blocking. I figure that’s why Lanfen was holed up in there, guarding the crown jewels.” She didn’t miss the way Mini’s eyes widened slightly. “You didn’t think I noticed her, did you? I did, but I opted to let her go tend to your boyfriend. I’ll deal with her later. Right now, I need to get into that building.”

  She attacked without any further warning, directing her force not at Mini, but at the building behind her. The force was enough to bow the front wall violently inward and rock the cabin on its steel foundation. There was a shower of sparks from the north rear corner of the building and the clearing became suddenly quieter. A murmur of sound Sara had barely noticed was now gone: the generator that had been feeding power to the cabin fell silent.

  “Sorry,” she said, “but I think I just pulled your plug.”

  Joey picked himself up off the floor of the immersion cabin, nursing bruised ribs and a sore hip from where he’d fallen. He’d been in an earthquake once as a kid. This was way worse. Earthquakes weren’t malevolent.

  It took him a moment to realize that the generator had cut out—all the control panels had gone dark and the battery-powered LED emergency lights had popped on. He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in his side. The power to the tank was off; that meant neither binaural beats nor Lorstad’s entraining program was feeding into the Alpha’s brain. If Tim regained consciousness . . .

  Joey was hit with a cold, clammy impulse to bail. He obeyed it, sprinting for a window at the rear of the cabin. He had hauled it open and grabbed the frame with both hands when he realized that without power, Tim’s oxygen would be cut off and he would suffocate.

  He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before he let go of the window frame and ran back to the tank. He had one foot on the platform when the top of the tank blew open in an explosion of gel and sparks.

  Sara was advancing on Mini, wondering why she was refusing to move out of the way, when the cabin rocked a second time. This time the explosion came from inside and caused a sudden deformation of the cabin’s steel roof. Sara smiled.

  “Well, what now, Mini? Are you ready to surrender? Or do we have to fight over this? That little kaboom was almost certainly Tim escaping from whatever prison you put him in. Are you prepared to face both of us?”

  Mini glanced over her shoulder at the cabin. Perfect timing; the door opened to reveal Tim, dripping wet and wearing some sort of scuba suit. His face was set in a rictus of unmitigated fury until he saw Sara. Then he smiled. Sara imagined that smile must have turned Mini’s blood to ice—she was trapped between them.

  “What’s it going to be, Min? Surrender or a stupid fight you can’t win?”

  “No surrender,” Mini said.

  Sara shook her head. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry it has to be like this, Mini. I liked you. Now, Tim.”

  In the flick of an eyelash, a tornado of forest floor debris rose up around the girl’s slight figure, completely blocking her from view. Sara charged into the miniature storm, reaching in with her kinetic “hands.” They closed on turbulent air. The artist had disappeared yet again.

  Infuriating. Had Mini learned to teleport or was this just another of her illusions?

  The answer came as a scream in Sara’s head. She knew, somehow, that it made no sound in the material world, just as she knew that Tim was also “hearing” it. His face twisted in pain and his eyes narrowed. Sara turned, scanning the camp, seeking the source of the scream. At the center of the clearing, another Mini faced them, red rage flowing from her in waves that Sara felt as pulses of heat beating against her body and soul.

  Sara leaned into the heat, shaking her head. “Come on, Mini. How long do you think smoke and mirrors is going to postpone the inevitable? What are you doing, stalling? You think Lanfen is going to abandon Eugene and come rescue you? Or Chuck? You think Chuck is going to come and talk his way out of this? He’s not. Mike’s holding him up on the mountain. He’s not going anywhere, and I’m done listening to any more lies anyway. And your military friends—even if they could challenge us—don’t know you’re in trouble over here. It’s over, Mini. Give it up.”

  “I don’t give up,” Mini said softly. She made a graceful, dancelike move that involved her entire body—her arms swept upward like wings, and she leapt lightly into the air. When her feet touched the ground again, she was surrounded by a flock of grotesque, batlike gargoyles the size of German shepherds that looked as if they were made of living stone. Their eyes glowed red and silvery spittle drooled from their colorless lips and gleamed on obsidian black teeth.

  “I have never hated anyone in my life until now,” Mini said. Her voice was pitched low and Sara had to strain to hear it. “But you—you’ve changed. You’ve let yourself change—both of you. You killed Matt when all he was trying to do was help you. You’ve tried to kill us—may have k-killed Eugene.” She hiccupped, then gasped in a breath. “Because you enjoy killing. You’re bullies. Powerful, conscienceless bullies. And that,” she added, her voice rising, “is why I hate you. I hate you!”

  Suddenly, the entire flock of gargoyles was airborne and attacking. Sara rose to meet them, wondering why the silly child was continuing with this nonsensical display. She considered simply returning to the mountain—she’d gotten Tim back, after all. Behind her, she could hear Tim laughing as he deployed his own squadron of guardians. His looked like the flying monkeys from The Wizard of Oz. Sara watched as they collided with Mini’s gargoyles . . . or rather, she watched as Mini’s gargoyles plowed through them as if they were made of mist.

  Sara threw up an energy screen, but the gargoyles ripped through that as well and reached her—and Tim. She heard him scream shrilly somewhere behind her, but his cries were lost in her own. The obsidian teeth were razor sharp, so she barely felt the bite that punctured her carotid artery. The last image in her eyes was Mini bathed in red light, looking like an avenging angel.

  Her last thought was the shocked realization that Mini was twice the goddess she was.

  Mini watched as her gargoyles winked out of existence, one by one. When the last one disappeared, she knew that Sara and Tim were dead. She had created her defenders to exist only as long as those two hearts were still beating. She didn’t look at the bodies or the blood. She turned dizzily toward where the huge cedar lay across the trail to the Spiderweb.

  Eugene, she thought, and may have cried his name. Then she was falling—falling into darkness.

  Chapter 22

  Olympus Fallen

  They took one of the back doors out of the mountain, Mike leading the strange train. Chuck didn’t ask, but he suspected the Alpha had no desire to have his son venture down that path of death and destruction in the main entrance. The boy was bright and curious and would certainly ask questions about the ruin he saw.

  Chuck sat in one of the treaded transport robots—possibly even the one he’d used on the way in. Anton rode happily in the arms of one of Lanfen’s origin
al Hob-bots—Bilbo—while Mike was carried by his favorite, Sacha. Anatoly, Boris, and Zhenya followed, loaded with all of the Alphas’ personal belongings, as Mike thought might be appreciated. Thorin was in the vanguard, carrying a white flag . . . just in case, Mike said, because he didn’t want any trigger-happy soldiers taking potshots at them.

  “You didn’t tell me what you planned to do about the Deep,” Chuck observed as they reached the bottom of the slope and came out in a meadow above and just west of the Betas’ base camp. “You didn’t seem to need to do any prep work for it before we left.”

  “Doc, I’ve been prepping for this for a while now. One of the first things I did was find the schematics for the power grid in there. I surfed it until I knew where everything connected, where there were vulnerable points or points where the power flow came in contact with other stuff—the garbage disposal system, for example. You’d be surprised how much methane builds up in a system like that. Then there’s the armory and ordnance storage, the fuel tanks. And it’s all connected by an electrical network.”

  Chuck swallowed and glanced back over his shoulder at the peak. “Do you think we’re far enough away now?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I expect so.”

  “What do you need to do?”

  Mike stopped Sacha and the other bots and turned to look at the mountain. “Just this.”

  “This” was no more than a deep breath. Whatever thoughts Mike Yenotov sent to the mountain, the results were immediate and spectacular. There was a deep, rolling, sonorous rumble that shook the ground beneath and the air above, then the mountain seemed to settle in on itself like a deflating soufflé. The rumble went on for nearly a minute, punctuated by sharper concussions. Then a cloud of dust and debris billowed out of the gaping maw that marked the main entry to the dying base. The shock wave was a primal sigh that rushed by them and was gone.

  In the aftermath, the normal sounds of the forest returned—birds, insects, trees creaking in the chill breeze.