Autumn Mermaid (Mermaid Series Book 4)

by Dan Glover

  "I don't understand any of this. What are you talking about, sweet Natalia?"

  "Do you remember those terrible monkeys that attacked us in the north of old France, sweet Lauren?"

  "You saved my life. I'll never forget it, my wondrous Natalia."

  "There are worse things coming for us."

  "How do you know that? Have you suddenly turned psychic, precious Natalia?"

  "Please don't make fun of me, my lovely Lauren. I've been having these feelings for months now, and bad dreams. Haven't you felt it too?"

  Natalia was right. Something on the edge of her imagination had been pecking at her attention like a woodpecker drilling away on one of the rotting trees outside the castle but she put it off to the tendency of the days and the nights to run together into an unending stream that issued forth from an unknown source.

  She had been ignoring her feelings again, the same way she did when Lily had left them behind to live in the west. She knew better. Her intuition had always been a better guide than her rational mind yet she had trouble trusting feelings that had no substance.

  "I'm sorry, my sweet and tender Natalia. I didn’t mean to ridicule you. We'll go wherever you say and I'm sure as long as we're together we'll be happy."

  The continent of Australia loomed under them in a matter of minutes. Like everywhere else in the world, the old cities had crumbled back into dust as the forests and the deserts gradually reclaimed what had been theirs for millions of years before human beings made it their own.

  "Where will we live, darling Natalia? What will we eat? There is nothing here."

  "We'll set down when we come to a beach, my precious Lauren. If nothing else we can eat fresh fruit from the trees and catch fat fish to fry. I remember reading that palm fronds can be woven together to fashion both walls and a roof for a house."

  "I trust your judgment, sweet Natalia. Even if we have to sleep in the weeds and eat bark off of trees, I'll abide by your decision."

  "What is that over there, sweet Natalia? It looks like a castle."

  They'd been flying so fast that they were already well beyond the structure before Lauren realized what she saw. Circling back, they landed outside the walls of what looked like a clone of Orchardton Hall.

  "I had no idea they built castles in Australia. Did you, sweet Lauren?"

  "No... I didn’t realize it either, darling Natalia. Shall we explore a bit?"

  For a moment Lauren thought that she had flown in a circle and was back in old Scotland, but this building had subtle differences to theirs. Walking up to the enormous front doors, they found them unlocked and so walked inside.

  The castle was furnished with so many ancient treasures that it seemed as if they had inadvertently walked into a museum. Fine furniture lined the walls, wonderful portraits were hung upon the walls, and marvelous sculptures sat in every corner calling out to her.

  Even amid the elegant surroundings, there were signs that the castle was deteriorating. Water stains marred the tin ceilings indicating water was coming in from somewhere above and broken window panes were allowing a breeze redolent of the ocean to waft through the empty rooms.

  "It seems a bit newer than our old castle. Still, the roof is leaking and the foundation is beginning to crumble. I think we could stay here for a while, though. What do you think, my lovely Lauren?"

  "Does it have an ossuary? I really hope not. I've grown so tired of smelling those old bones, my precious Natalia. I was so afraid when you disappeared and then Lily did too. I thought I lost both of you. That, I could not bear."

  "I'm back and I'm not going anywhere, my sweet Lauren. Come and show me how happy you are that I am still alive. We'll discover together whether this castle contains that which you dread. And if it does, we'll look for a new home."

  As they walked hand in hand through the cavernous castle they came upon a greenhouse in which an array of flowers and plants were growing, and more, flourishing. It was obvious to Lauren that someone had been tending them and recently too.

  The sight brought her back to all the days she had spent in her gardens at Orchardton Hall and how they had withered and died over the centuries despite her care, or perhaps because of it.

  Exiting the castle in the back, they stood looking out over the strange and glorious landscape. In the far distance, something moved. For a moment, Lauren thought it might be some type of animal but looking closer she saw that whatever it was, it walked upright.

  "Look over there, precious Natalia... is that a man?"

  Lauren shivered as images of the attack they suffered in the north of old France came rushing back.

  Chapter 38—Memories

  She thought it was Nate.

  The figure standing on a hill seeming to look down upon her was tall and from a distance she couldn’t quite make out his features. Dusk was settling over the scene and the fact that she was in the death throes of Lake Syndrome did little to improve her eyesight. It was definitely a man, however, and a tall one at that.

  "Help us... we've been hurt in the crash."

  Her voice sounded shrill yet strangely quiet as if it was being swallowed up in the encroaching mist. She hadn’t the strength left to raise her hands in an effort to signal the man and though she attempted to roll over and stand, the dizziness was too much.

  She was going to die. Pete was already dead. He had stopped breathing nearly an hour ago. Though she tried not to look at his lifeless body still strapped into the pilot's seat she couldn’t help but take darting glances at him just to be sure he really was dead.

  He kept making weird gurgling noises but being a doctor Karen told herself it was simply his body shutting down, giving off gas, and the bacteria inside his gut beginning to digest the stomach.

  The edges of the forest seemed to shimmer as if back-lighted by the rising of the moon though she could clearly see a silver crescent high in the sky. The earth seemed to vibrate. She could feel it through her seat. Though she desperately desired to flee the craft—to take shelter under a bush in perhaps deep within a cave—she sensed relative safety here where at least a shell separated her from the groans and screeches of the onrushing night.

  She didn’t want to die like this but if die she must, at least she'd rather fall asleep to drown in her own pleural effusions than to be eaten alive by the predators of the night. The infernal itching deep beneath the skin all over her body had ceased which Karen took as indicative of the final stages of Lake Syndrome though in truth she had never actually witnessed it much less experienced it first hand.

  Oh... but she had. Only just recently she had nearly succumbed to Lake Syndrome at Toulon when everyone had left her there alone. It seemed strange that the same thing was happening all over again, almost like someone was plotting it.

  The figure on the hill had disappeared. She fought off disappointment by telling herself no one had been there anyway. Her eyes were playing tricks on her in the gathering gloom and the advancing sickness wracking her body.

  The vibrations of the earth were oddly rhythmical. She though it might be a sign that the anti-gravity craft was coming to life again but when she watched the prairie weeds sticking through the opening of the door she noticed they too were gyrating.

  Despite her predicament she found herself searching her mind for clues to volcanic activity in the vicinity of old Paris. She could think of no eruptions within the last six thousand years and that took place in a place called Chaîne des Puys in the highlands of old central France.

  The shaking became more pronounced. Visions of a vast tidal wave sweeping across the continent formed in her mind as ever the scientist even until the end she searched for possible explanations.

  When Maon and Sileas walked up next to her, she thought she must be dreaming. Knowing they had both been thrown from the anti-gravity craft, Karen assumed she had passed out and their images were but a figment of her dying brain, much like the bright light people used to claim they saw as they neared the point of death.


  "He's still alive. Let's get him out so we can see how badly hurt his is. Karen, can you hear me?"

  Someone was talking and even though the sounds were garbled she understood the words. Still, when she tried to focus on the face a white strip of gauze or perhaps some type of opaque film had seemingly been placed over her eyes.

  She wanted to tell whoever it was that she had made her peace. Let her die. She didn’t want to live on without Pete. But what had they said? He's alive. Who was alive? Could she have been mistaken about his death?

  Though she couldn’t seem to feel hands upon her body, someone had apparently lifted her from the seat. She felt weightless, as if she was floating through warm water. Her lungs felt full of fluid but to draw a deep breathe and cough it up seemed beyond her ability so she took tiny gasps as her heart fluttered and threatened to stop inside her chest.

  She knew what the fish out of water must have felt like and all those billions of people who died of Lake Syndrome... had they all experienced the same effects? She had no right to be alive. She had abandoned her duties in a futile effort to save her own miserable life.

  "Leave me."

  Her voice was no more than a croak. If only she could get them to understand. This was what she deserved, to die like this. If only she had the strength to pull away she would run into the forest to offer herself up for sacrifice.

  The image of the figure on the hill haunted her. If it wasn’t Nate, who was it? She seemed to recall how she could make out dim stars shining through its body as if it was translucent, no more than a mirage. Perhaps that was it. It was all part of her mind playing tricks on her as she neared the end.

  It was Kirk, only not Kirk. Suddenly she was as sure of it as anything. She remembered the first time she saw the boy when they were rushing to Orchardton Hall, sick and delirious with fever. The boys had been lying in the middle of the street. Marilyn nearly ran the both of them over.

  But no... they had only stopped and picked up one boy, Drummond. The other had appeared after they reached Orchardton Hall. Somehow in the confusion she had simply assumed that two boys had crawled into the car when they had stopped in Kurgan that day.

  Where did Kirk come from? How did he know to go to the Ladies... that their presence would protect him? No one in the world knew that secret, save for her and the Ladies. At least that's what she thought.

  Kirk knew.

  Kirk was the smaller of the two. He had a far off look in his eyes which Karen had assumed was a symptom of the illness besetting them all. Later, when the boy had recovered his health, she realized he still had the same look in his eyes. Even when he grew into a man and centuries went by, the look remained.

  Though the figure standing on the hill had been too far away to actually see any facial features, she knew from the eyes that it was Kirk. It was as if he was seeing within seeing, not comprehending the nature of the reality in which he found himself ensconced. Instead, he seemed to be making up a fantasy life that was better than anything he saw in front of him.

  Kirk was in trouble, or rather, he was making trouble. It was his fault they had crashed. The thought burst into her brain at the same moment she realized she was feeling better. With Maon and Sileas by her side her symptoms began subsiding as quickly as they manifested.

  "Kirk was here."

  She had to warn them. What had brought down the anti-gravity craft was no normal storm. It was an attack, not by Kirk so much as by the things that had infested his body and his brain causing him to do their bidding in an effort to regain that which they had lost with the destruction of the nexus.

  Micah was the invisible hand behind it all. As her mind cleared she recalled how the boy had played the innocent, always helpful, always full of concern for everyone. He had always been too supercilious in the past but all of a sudden when he appeared at Toulon he took on a completely different persona, one of humility and docility that both startled her and filled her with the sense of Fremdscham, a charming an d uniquely German word she learned long ago.

  She was ashamed for Micah, but more, almost horrified that he seemed so oblivious to how embarrassing he actually was. The man had been a genius when she knew him as a boy, when they first met at Cornell University a thousand years ago. Something had happened.

  She had once read about the Dunning-Kruger effect and how it described a cognitive bias by which some people performing poorly while attempting specific tasks lacked the meta-cognitive capacity to properly evaluate their performance. Instead, they remained unaware of their incompetence and thus failed to take any self-improvement measures to improve their performance.

  She recalled the effect had little to do with intelligence and in fact the above average participants in the study were subject to the same cognitive dissonance as the lower average ones, the difference being that the above average people tended to rate their performance in the lower percentile while the below average ones rated their performances much higher than they actually were.

  As time went by, she began to suspect it was all a ploy on Micah's part. He couldn’t be as ignorant as he let on. At the same time, however, she didn’t want to call him on it. It was entirely possible that his mental capacity had been somehow compromised by not only the passing years but the effects of the nanobots upon his brain.

  What if she was wrong, however? Was Micah really the one behind all the strange happenings of late, or was someone or something far more sinister at work behind the scenes?

  Where did Kirk come from the day of the Great Dying? She couldn’t seem to shake the question from her mind. She knew he had grown up in Kurgan. But of all the people who lived in that doomed village, why had Kirk been the only one to make his way to Orchardton Hall?

  Someone wanted her dead... not only her, but the rest of the humans that had managed to survive the Great Dying. For some reason she couldn’t imagine Micah desiring death... the boy had always fantasized about saving humanity, not destroying it. On the other hand, Kirk had once conspired with Marilyn to kill... she had always assumed Marilyn was behind that, but what if she wasn't? What if Kirk was far more culpable than anyone thought? Why did all roads seem to lead back to Kirk?

  The answers lingered at the back of her mind. She knew it would do no good trying to force it into her consciousness... it was better to forget all about it and wait for the moment of enlightenment which she knew would happen sooner or later.

  "Are you sure it was Kirk, sweet Karen?"

  Maon seemed shocked at the mention of the name, as if he knew something she didn’t. The man had supposedly died in old New York ages ago. She had heard the stories of how he'd pushed Nate aside and absorbed the brunt of the attack, of how his body turned to metal and when the nexus had been destroyed, Kirk had suffocated within the iron sarcophagus in which he'd been entombed.

  "I'm positive it was him, darling Maon. Only something about him had changed... he'd grown. I thought I could see the stars twinkling through his body but that could have been an illusion I was suffering what with my sickness. But it was Kirk. He was watching me."

  She thought it best not to tell Maon that she thought he was Kirk at first.

  Chapter 39—Demon

  Knowing they might well be walking to their deaths did nothing to forestall his intentions.

  Finding Niall alive and well amazed Nate and yet sent a singular sense of doom to dancing about the back of his mind. Having Chester along lent him confidence he wouldn’t normally feel and yet he feared the big cat was in over his head too.

  The boy was right. The nanobots had changed. Instead of falling away in heaps they clung to his legs like mud, sticky and tight, and it was only when he lashed out with his mind at their audacity in a sort of anger only reserved for the truly awful that they retreated from his body.

  "What is that?"

  The clouds overhead continually swirled and formed shifting shapes but on the horizon lurked a black menace that seemed solid and unbending, a mountain, perhaps, or some type of
gigantic structure.

  Though he thought how the lack of light as well as the heavy mist might well have conspired to cause hallucinations, the formation seemed a mile high, perhaps more. Nate knew his architecture. No manmade building had ever been so large. When Nate pointed it out, however, Niall shrugged his shoulders.

  "I don't know. I saw it right away when we emerged from the tunnel where we were trapped. I don’t remember it from before so I'm guessing it must be something new. I expect it has something to do with Kirk's plans. He's changed, Grandfather Nate, and not for the better. He isn't the same person you once knew. I think the nanobots have done something to his brain."

  Nate regretted leaving the man here. Even though he rationalized it as the only alternative at the time, now he suspected it might have been better to destroy the man's body somehow. Even though it had become encased in a hard metal shell Nate imagined explosive devices might well have blown it to bits.

  "Can't you do something to help him, Micah?"

  "The nexus must have been destroyed, Mr. Nate. The only thing I can do is to develop a new central processor for the nanobots. That way I could program them to put Kirk back to his original form. Now, there is nothing to work with."

  "How long would it take to make a new nexus, Micah?"

  "Centuries... it took me three hundred years to develop the one that was destroyed. It would take at least that long to grow a new one."

  Even at the time Nate knew that Micah was keeping something from him, holding back an important bit of information. But he let it go. He thought the man was sincere in his wanting to help Kirk but was frustrated at the death of his prized possession... his nanobots and their brain, and more, his own precious intelligence.

  Now, Nate saw that Micah was not only scheming but biding his time until he could manufacture a new nexus using Kirk's brain. The man must have had it planned all along, even when he had supposedly come to help them escape the swarming sands that threatened to engulf them by their sheer numbers.