Thirst No. 5

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Thirst No. 5 Page 4

by Christopher Pike


  “That’s why you haven’t forgiven me. Because I lied to you then.”

  He goes to protest but stops. “Yes.”

  “I felt I had to lie. I was afraid you’d kill me.”

  “I know.”

  “I had a right to be afraid.”

  He stares at me. “No, Sita, that’s where you’re wrong. Sure, you saw my temper, you heard my threats. But I could never have hurt you any more than I could have harmed Teri.” He pauses. “You don’t believe me.”

  “It’s not that simple. I know I’ll never be as important to you as Teri was. I’m not complaining—I couldn’t have loved her more than I did. But I think—from now on—that it’s important we’re honest with each other.”

  He continues to stare at me. “I am being honest, Sita.”

  He’s a hard one to read. “Fine,” I say.

  Our flight continues uninterrupted. Matt puts the jet on automatic pilot and leaves me in the forward cabin to keep an eye on things. He goes in the back to talk to Brutran, or at least that’s what he says. I could listen in on their conversation, but since he knows that, I doubt he’s going to say anything secretive to her.

  Matt is gone an hour, and we’re approaching the Mississippi River when Seymour knocks on the cabin door and enters. He sits in Matt’s chair.

  “I assume you know how to fly this thing,” he says.

  “All jets have the same basic controls. But this plane is so advanced, it can fly itself. At least until we land.”

  “That’s reassuring.” He looks troubled.

  “What’s on your mind, Seymour?”

  “When are you going to tell me about this veil?”

  “Soon.”

  “Now feels like a good time.”

  “I’ll do it when we’re on the ground and I can get you and Matt alone.” I pause. “Something else is bothering you.”

  “It’s about Paula. You haven’t called her in a few days. She has no idea what’s going on.”

  “Paula’s priority is John. Protecting him. If she was anxious for an update, she would have called me.”

  “What if we need her advice?” he asks.

  “Then I’d call her.”

  Seymour looks out the window. “You’ve never reacted that well to what she has to say.”

  “Well, she can be a bit blunt at times.”

  “But she’s usually right. Let’s face it, the woman’s a genuine psychic. And her son, John, God only knows what he is.”

  “What’s this about?”

  Seymour squirms in his seat. “Matt. He’s in the back, playing that computer game John told us to stay away from.”

  “The one the Cradle installed on the Internet? The one that gave you headaches?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What’s the big deal? You said it didn’t have any effect on Matt.”

  “He said that. On the surface, it didn’t appear to bother him. But just now, when he flipped open his laptop, I got a creepy feeling, and I didn’t even know what he was doing. Then, when I saw he was playing the game, I reminded him what John had said about it. He told me to mind my own business.”

  “Sounds like Matt,” I say.

  “That game’s weird. It’s so addicting, especially if you play it with headphones. Remember the subliminal messages we found on sections of it?“

  I remember. “Is Matt playing with headphones?”

  “Yeah. He acts like he can screen out all the garbage—and maybe he can, I don’t know. I just know the game gives off a weird vibe if you’re in the room with someone who’s playing it.”

  “You’ve only told me a little about how the game works. Give me more details.”

  “It starts off simple. Your character is always a visitor to earth, and your goal is to find a hidden spaceship and fly it to the center of the galaxy. You start with only your hands and feet to defend yourself, but you can pick up weapons along the way. You need them because, like most games, you’re attacked the further you go. You can form alliances with other characters the game creates, and they can help you in tight situations. But just when you begin to depend on them, you usually discover they’re Shadows.”

  “Shadows?”

  “People the game is secretly controlling. They’re the most dangerous part of the game. You need Shadows to get past certain areas—you can get killed if you don’t agree to work with them—but they’ll often stab you in the back at the worst times. Like when you’re eating or sleeping.”

  “You eat and sleep in this game?”

  “It’s very realistic. You even meet beautiful women that you’d swear are other people out there playing the game with you. And maybe they are real, it’s hard to tell. Remember, the game is tied into the Internet. I have no idea how many people are playing it.”

  “So these characters seem to have a life of their own?” I ask.

  “Yeah. That’s why it’s so upsetting when they betray you.”

  “Have you been killed in your sleep?”

  “I’ve been murdered sitting on the toilet. But dying isn’t the worst thing that can happen. If you die, you just start over. The worst thing is when a Shadow turns you into one of them.”

  “How does it do that?”

  “They get you to trust them.”

  “Go on.”

  Seymour hesitates. The question disturbs him more than it should. After, all, he’s just talking about a game. I have to wait for his answer.

  “That’s pretty much it,” he says. “I never got close to finding the spaceship and leaving the earth. But Matt told me he’s closing in on it.”

  “Does the game end then?”

  “I don’t know. There are hints along the way that there are plenty of worlds out in the galaxy you have to get by before you can reach home.”

  “Do you have any idea what home is like?”

  “The game doesn’t say a lot about it, except you get the feeling, when you’re playing, that you want to reach it before it’s too late.”

  “Too late for what?”

  “I don’t know,” he says. He practically jumps out of his seat. He rubs his palms against his legs as he looks down at me. “I just thought I should warn you is all.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  He leaves the pilot’s cabin in a hurry. Anyone else and I wouldn’t be concerned. But I know from experience that Seymour has remarkable radar. If he feels the game is dangerous, he’s probably right. Plus anything created by the Cradle can’t be too healthy. It’s not as if that group was worried about entertaining the teenagers of the world.

  I have a secure cell that’s been designed by Matt. Paula has a similar device. After a moment’s hesitation, I dial her number. Seymour is right, there’s a part of me that fears to approach her. Paula knows things about my future I don’t know, and her advice is often brutal. It was Paula who warned me to stay away from Teri. Advice I chose to ignore, much to my dismay.

  Paula takes her time answering. It makes me wonder if I’m disturbing her meditation. The woman spends a lot of time in silence.

  “Hello?” she says. “Sita?”

  “I suppose I’m the only one who would call you on this line.”

  “You or Matt. How are you doing?”

  “You read about the explosion in Malibu?”

  “It’s on TV. They’re still carrying out the bodies of the children from the wreckage. They’re saying most of them were in some sort of basement.”

  “I was the one who gave the order to blow up the building.”

  “That must have been a tough decision.”

  “That’s an understatement. Was it the right one?”

  “Why do you ask? You’re not someone who looks to others for validation. Or are you looking for something else?”

  “I’m not looking for absolution, if that’s what you mean,” I snap, annoyed at how easily she is able to get to me.

  “Good. I have none to offer. What can I do for you?”

  “How’s John?”
<
br />   “Great.”

  “Can I speak to him when we’re finished?”

  “Not now. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

  I recount how we were able to destroy the Telar and the Cradle. If I’m expecting praise, I don’t get it. I move onto Seymour’s concerns about the game, going so far as to say that Matt appears addicted to it. She listens silently; the woman has the patience of an Easter Island stone head.

  “John warned Seymour and Matt to stay away from the game,” Paula says when I’m finished.

  “Did he speak to Matt directly?”

  “Yes. I was there. Why does Matt keep playing it?”

  “What can I say? He’s determined to beat it.”

  “Matt can’t beat the game. Nobody can.”

  “John acts like he can. Your son plays it half the day.”

  “You know John has his own reasons for doing what he does. I don’t even ask him to explain what they are. But I know he sees something in that game that the rest of us should avoid.”

  “The damn thing’s on the Internet. Millions of kids could be playing it for all we know.”

  “John says the number, worldwide, is over ten million.”

  “There you go. Are we going to have millions of zombies on our hands soon?”

  “You assume it’s targeted at all those people. It might be that only a few are susceptible to its influence.”

  “Would you care to elaborate?” I ask.

  “I’ve never played it. John has said to stay away from it and that’s good enough for me.” She pauses. “Did we lose Umara?”

  “How did you know?”

  “I sensed her leaving. A pity.”

  “She sacrificed her life so I could get to the Telar.”

  “I’m not surprised. She was a great woman.”

  “Yeah. We sure could use her now.”

  The conversation seems to run into a roadblock. Paula lapses into silence. Like Seymour said, she has the gift of prophecy, like Suzama of old. That’s the main reason I’ve called her today, not to talk to her about the game. She’s the only one I have told about the Veil of Veronica, back when she was living at Lake Tahoe. I have reached out to her with the hope she’ll tell me something that will help me find it.

  Yet when I bring it up, she practically cuts me off.

  “Sita, stop. I told you that day we were sitting by the lake that the riddle of the veil will be revealed to you when the time is right.”

  “I know that’s what you said back then. But things have changed. The people, or creatures, that we’re combating have discovered it exists. I’m afraid they might get to it before I can.” I pause. “I need your help, Paula.”

  “I can’t help you.”

  “Then let me talk to John.”

  “No. You can’t involve him in this.”

  “Why don’t we let him decide.”

  “I’m sorry, Sita.”

  “Are you? It must be pretty cool being you. Having a sixth sense that allows you to stand on a tall building and see miles away while the rest of us stumble around in a dark alley.”

  “You have your own gifts. Be grateful you were able to reclaim your original form and can still use them.”

  Paula is referring to the time I was trapped in Teri’s body. She and her son were present when Umara put me back in my old body. Of course, with John around, it was always hard to know who was doing what. The kid can just sit in a room and make it feel wonderful.

  Still, his mother’s attitude pushes my buttons.

  “Hell, I’m grateful. But you know the only reason I’m back in this body is to help you and your son and the other seven billion souls on this planet. I could be with Krishna right now, but I chose to come back.”

  “Then be happy with your choice, and finish your task.”

  “I’ll do that just as soon as I figure out what it is.”

  “One hint, Sita, then I’m going. All right?”

  I hesitate. “Okay.”

  “Since the last world war, everything you’ve done for mankind has been amazing. Yet it all would have been unnecessary if you hadn’t failed at Auschwitz.”

  Her words hit like a blow to my solar plexus. I have to struggle to respond. “How dare you. I was lucky to get out of that hellhole alive.”

  “Yes, you were,” Paula says, and for the first time there’s warmth in her voice. But it’s small comfort because a moment later she practically hangs up on me. “Good-bye, Sita.”

  She is gone. I’m left alone with a dial tone.

  “Bitch,” I say.

  Frankly, I have no idea what she’s talking about. What did I do wrong in the concentration camp? Is she judging me because I failed to destroy the place? It makes no sense. I told her enough about my time at Auschwitz for her to know I was in bad shape when I escaped from the camp. But the way she talks it’s like she thinks I should have done a lot more to save the prisoners there.

  “She’s so full of shit,” I mutter to myself.

  Yet I wonder why I suddenly feel so guilty.

  I place another call, this one to Mr. Kram, one of the last surviving Telar and an ex-member of their inner circle. I met him not long before I destroyed what the Telar called the Source, a group of their most ancient leaders. With the help of Brutran’s Cradle I was able to wreck the Source’s psychic shield—a form of protection that made them virtually invulnerable. But it was Mr. Kram who launched a barrage of missiles at the last stronghold of the Telar and wiped out their physical bodies.

  He did so because I offered to spare his daughter, Alia.

  Unfortunately, Alia turned on me and I had to kill her.

  I spared Mr. Kram instead and held him to a promise to help me destroy his leaders. He did so because he feared me, but also because he hated the Source as much as I did. He had seen what they were capable of.

  I have kept Mr. Kram’s number just in case.

  He seems surprised to hear from me and wants to know why I’m calling. I put my question to him bluntly.

  “I want to know why the Telar referred to Yaksha and Umara’s son, Matt, as the Abomination,” I ask.

  Mr. Kram is slow to respond. “May I ask why you need to know this?”

  “Personal reasons. Answer me.”

  “There’s the obvious reason. Matt is the product of two powerful bloodlines. He’s the only child of a vampire and a Telar. It’s no surprise he’s as strong as he is. It’s as if the two most potent qualities of both races blossomed inside him.”

  “You say that like it’s a good thing. Yet the Telar feared Matt.”

  “Of course. He killed so many of us. It’s no surprise we should fear and even hate him.”

  “Still, you haven’t answered my question.”

  “Haven’t I?”

  “The Telar’s fear of Matt went far beyond his strength. The name you gave him—the Abomination. It’s as if you granted him legendary status, but not in a good way.” I stop to let my meaning sink in. “I want to know about the legends surrounding him.”

  Mr. Kram hesitates. “That’s not something we talk about, even among ourselves.”

  “Fine. But you’re going to talk about it now.”

  “Or else?”

  “Or else I will find you and force you to tell me to my face. And that, Mr. Kram, is not something you want to have happen.” I pause. “Talk.”

  Mr. Kram is a long time answering. “The legend of the Abomination existed before Matt was born. It came into existence thousands of years ago when the Source was almost solely focused on attaining the supreme reality. In those days the Telar’s inner circle was in daily contact with celestial beings of almost infinite power and creativity. It was these creatures that warned that if the Telar was not careful, one of their own kind would give birth to a man who was not a man at all. Someone who was never supposed to be born at all. These beings called this no-man the Abomination.”

  “And when Matt was born to Umara, an ancient Telar, and Yaksha, the first and gr
eatest of all the vampires, the Source assumed that he must be this Abomination.”

  “Correct. As you know, a vampire cannot reproduce, and yet Yaksha did with Umara. That alone made us think that Matt was a man who was not supposed to be.”

  “Did you have any other reasons?”

  “Not long after Matt’s birth the Black Death—what you probably call the bubonic plague—struck Europe and Asia. You were alive during those days. You know that half the world was wiped out.”

  “The Telar blamed Matt for the plague?”

  “I suppose we needed someone to blame.”

  “What other legends surround the Abomination?”

  “The worst one, the strangest one, also came from our contact with celestial beings. They warned that if this man was born who was not a man, then at some point in the future, all mankind’s history would be lost.”

  “Lost? How?”

  “The legend is vague on this point. I don’t know what it means. But the legend does say that the Abomination will destroy our history for the love of a witch.”

  “So you’re saying that when the Abomination meets this witch, this catastrophic event will occur?”

  “Yes,” Mr. Kram replies.

  “Does the legend point to a time? When is it supposed to happen?”

  “Soon.”

  “How soon?”

  Mr. Kram’s voice drops to a whisper. “Any day now.”

  I force myself to laugh. “Do you honestly believe this nonsense?”

  “I’m afraid I do, Sita.” He pauses. “Kill him, before it’s too late.”

  “What?” I begin. But Mr. Kram has hung up.

  It’s just as well, I was about to do likewise. Of all the crazy legends I have ever heard, this one has got to be the strangest. Of course it’s pure nonsense, it has to be.

  How could Matt personally destroy history?

  FIVE

  We’re attacked a hundred and fifty miles west of Raleigh, where we planned to land. We’re so near the city that Matt has already dropped us down to ten thousand feet and begun to decrease our speed. Fortunately, he doesn’t overreact in the crisis. He quietly calls me into the pilot’s cabin and points to the two objects on our radar screen.

 

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