“You told me that my death sentence was for being the father of my son, Aramis. I very much remember him, and I remember his mother as well, and every single moment I spent with both of them. They were the two most amazing people I’ve ever met. If my relationship with them is considered a crime by this group, then I am proudly guilty as charged.”
Aramis snorted. “Humans are unstable, though. Given enough time, both of them would have lost interest in you, or betrayed you in some fashion. Sounds like they would have been perfect fits with your Alliance, wouldn’t they?”
“If living forever makes you such a cynic, Aramis, I’m rather pleased that you’re taking me somewhere to die. I’d hate to be a miserable old coot like you, bored out my mind, with no one to love or to love me.”
Aramis was silent after that.
The elevator did not stop in the lobby, but continued to a floor labeled Lower Level 7. Will assumed it was underground, and Aramis confirmed that. “The building that’s visible is where the humans do their work. Other than the penthouse suite the Leader commands, we work underground, out of sight of the humans, and they can’t get in without Energy. We’re discouraged from doing Energy stuff in the main building; it has decent dampering capabilities in the walls, not so much to stop anything, but to remind us where we are. No such restrictions on the Lower Levels, though. Usually we just teleport down here, but I figure using the human-invented elevator to escort their champion to his final end is more fitting.” He smiled in triumph.
The doors opened. “Seventh level of hell, right this way,” Will muttered.
They headed down a long hallway, and reached a door with a name in a language Will could not understand. A simple plaque hung on the wall near the door, however, simply reading: “The Assassin.” Will noted to himself that this was the first time in two months he’d actually entered a room via a door. Or perhaps it was the first time in two centuries.
Aramis knocked on the door with the hand not used to control Will. “Enter,” an icy voice said from inside. Will felt a chill inside him. This was the voice of the man who had killed his wife, and who had silenced the voice of Josh before Will had ever heard his son speak. Yet even without knowing that, he could detect a sense of pure evil in the man.
Aramis opened the door and they walked in. A man sat in a simple chair, dressed entirely in black, sharpening the blade of a familiar-looking short sword, the edge visibly razor-thin and glinting. So this is how they planned to kill him, then? With a giant knife? Will had been hoping for something less painful. Then again, he was hoping not to die at all, so the chosen method of execution was moot.
“Today, I finish what was started so long ago, Will Stark,” the man said, his voice a whisper. He glanced at the blade, checking the sharpness on the tip of his finger. Will could see the blood drip down onto the floor, despite the very light pressure he’d used. Will focused on the blade, directing half of his small batch of nanos to cover its surface, and he made ready to direct the machines to alter the attempt at mortally wounding him. He directed the other half onto his skin to act as a shield; he’d need to both alter the trajectory of the blade, and bounce it off of his skin, to avoid serious injury. Adam had told him that this was the approach he’d used to save Will from the sword attacks in his backyard that night so long ago, though Adam undoubtedly had more nanos to work with. It would need to be enough.
The Assassin stood up, facing Will. The man’s head was shaved clean, marred by dozens of deep gashes that had scarred over. His eyes — irises and pupils alike — were a deep blood-red. The image, the voice, the aura of pure evil — Will knew this man was a gifted killer.
Aramis remained behind his prisoner, with his right hand firmly planted on Will’s left shoulder. The Assassin glared at the Hunter. “Aramis, I don’t want to hear any complaints about blood on your outfit.”
Aramis shook his head. “If I let go of Stark, he teleports out of here. The dampers don’t work down here like they do above ground. So, I’ll stay put. Just try to be careful. Oh, and one more thing?”
The blood-red eyes remained unblinking.
“Right. Like you said, at least try to keep the blood away from me. Carry on, then.” Seeming to be concerned about this, Aramis moved so that he wasn’t directly behind Will, and formed closer to a 45 degree angle with him, believing it would put him farther away from Will’s splattered blood.
The Assassin tossed the sword handle back and forth in his hands, as if deciding which should have the honor. He settled on his right, and advanced to within two feet of Will.
Everything after that was a blur.
The Assassin pulled his blade back and jabbed it forward with tremendous force and speed, attempting to run it through Will.
Will moved his nano-shield down to the targeted area of his body and condensed the shield, forming an impenetrable barrier. At the same time, he had the nanos on the blade force the trajectory away from his body.
The blade, initially on target for Will’s abdomen, slid to Will’s left, striking the nano-shield on Will’s oblique muscle area, and bouncing off to The Assassin’s right.
Sensing that he was safe on this pass, Will pulled the nanos off the sword and onto his back, to prevent The Assassin from trying to stab or slash him as he pulled the blade back for another attempt.
The combination of the redirection and the bounce off the shield turned the blade, still at full speed, at a 45 degree angle to Will’s body, directly at the Hunter.
The blade had barely slowed down when it entered Aramis’ body, and did not stop until the tip exited through the man’s back and clothing.
All three men were in shock. Aramis looked down at the growing red stain on his clothing, and realized it was a fatal wound. He dropped down to his knees, looked up at The Assassin, and said, “I told you not to get any blood on me.” He fell forward into The Assassin’s legs, before the man could release the hilt. The Assassin tried to pull the blade out of the dying man’s body, all the while keeping his eyes on Will.
With the Damper of Aramis released, Will suddenly had full use of his Energy. He could teleport out now, but there was work to be done, and deaths to avenge. He hurled himself at The Assassin, knocking the man to the floor, separating the killer from his sword. Aramis’ body crumbled to the ground.
Stark, listen to me. Will blinked, continuing to wrestle The Assassin, trying to get his hands on the man’s throat. I’m on your side now, Stark. Listen carefully inside your head, but keep fighting. They’re watching us.
Will threw a forearm at The Assassin’s head. That hurt. They’re watching. We must make this convincing. The Assassin suddenly shifted his weight, and Will found himself on his back, staring up into a face lined with deep lacerations hardened into scars.
Why should I believe you? Will projected.
The Assassin punched Will in the head, and Will felt a bit woozy. One of the Alliance people gave me a potion. Makes me have to do what he wants. He wanted me to get you out of here, but in a way that lets me keep working here, spying on the Elites. The Assassin threw another punch, and Will shifted away at the last instant, causing The Assassin to curse out loud as his fist hit the hard floor.
I’m listening. Will tried to roll into The Assassin and take advantage of the man being off balance, but the man shifted his own weight, and Will was driven back into the floor.
Here’s an area outside our building you can teleport to in a few moments. Will saw an image of a small copse of trees near the Aliomenti building, and saw where the sidewalk was. I need you to block this punch. The Assassin threw a punch at Will, who blocked it with his arm. Now throw me, and the gun will fall out.
Gun? Will whipped his body, and The Assassin flew off him, landing hard several feet away. In the process, a small gun fell out of a holster hidden under the man’s belt, landing between Will and The Assassin. Will didn’t need to be told the next step. He snatched the gun before The Assassin could recover and sprang to his feet, aiming the
gun at The Assassin while flipping the safety off, his look of fury not faked. You killed my family. I think you expect me to be merciful here. Merciful would be shooting you in the head and killing you with no pain. Will aimed the gun at the man’s head.
No! You must say that out loud, but shoot me in the shoulder, the leg...somewhere it won’t be fatal. Tell me it’s a crueler fate to suffer. And Will realized that he was correct on that point. Living with your failures was punishment; death was mercy.
“You expect mercy from me, don’t you?” Will asked. “You think I’m going to take this gun, which looks a lot like my gun, and that I’m going to shoot you in the head so that you die quickly. That I’ll kill you to avenge my family.” Will aimed lower, at the man’s groin, and The Assassin winced. “I think I’d rather you suffer, though.” Will shifted to point at the man’s leg.
The Assassin laughed out loud. “You fool! What makes you think the gun is actually loaded?” It’s loaded. Shoot me. Gloat.
Will pulled the trigger, and The Assassin screamed in pain as muscle was shredded and bone was shattered, blood spouting from the wound. Good shot, oh that HURTS! You may shoot me again if you see fit, but know this, Will Stark. Oh that HURTS! Know this...I failed to complete my mission that night. Go! They’ll be coming for you!
Will froze temporarily, and then recovered. “It appears to be loaded. I’ll check again, just to be sure.” He pointed at the other leg and shot him again. The screaming began anew, even more agonizing. “Suffer long,” Will said, glaring at the man. After recalling all of his nanos, he pictured the area outside, and teleported out of the building. Good job, Will Stark. Will could hear the agony in the man’s thoughts. Tell my boss I did well.
“But I don’t know who that is,” Will said, to no one in particular. He flipped the safety on and took in his surroundings.
He was outside the massive building, and near the sidewalk. There was no sign of any life, human or Aliomenti, on that sidewalk. Will moved to it and began walking, at a casual pace, away from the building. He needed to get off this island, and get back to his new family in the Alliance. To Angel, to Adam, and yes, even to Fil, who was likely rejoicing that Will was gone for good.
It was too far to teleport, though.
He saw a figure emerge up ahead, wearing a dark cloak, with a thick hood covering the head. Will couldn’t tell if the person was a man or a woman, but he distinctly saw a hand emerge from the sleeve, wearing a thick glove, and motion for Will to follow. Will did so. Thus far, his instinct on who to trust had been quite good — at least for staying alive, though not for learning the truth — and he sensed this person was there to help. This cloak was definitely not being worn by Porthos.
The figure in the cloak led him down the sidewalk, back into the trees, and on a circuitous route through the small park. He emerged on the runway where the small aircraft carrying him and the Hunters had landed. The cloaked figure glanced about, and then darted into the hangar. Will followed. There, he found the same craft Athos and Porthos had used to bring him here. The figure pointed to what appeared to be a navigation system, showing his path. He’d been living on the northeastern edge of South America, and the island he was on was...inside the Bermuda Triangle.
Creepy.
With their hood still hiding their face, the guide pointed into the vehicle. “I should fly this back where I came from?” Will asked. A nod. “Will I be able to fly it? I’ve never flown anything before.” Another nod, but no words. “OK. Thank you.” He tried to duck down to get a glance under the hood, but his guide turned quickly and walked back out of the hangar. Will shrugged and climbed in.
As he sat, the top closed automatically. “Select destination,” said a soothing female voice. Will shrugged, and tried zeroing in on his old camp location on the screen. Once he found it, he tapped. “Destination selected,” the voice confirmed. With no further direction from Will, the craft backed out of the hangar, turned, and raced down the runway, gradually lifting into the air. Autopilot. Of course.
Will settled in for the journey, soon drifting off to sleep.
In the trees along the runway he’d just left, the hooded guide watched the vehicle soar from sight. The hood came down, and the woman underneath gave a gentle wave into the distance.
“Good luck, Will,” she whispered.
XXIII
Reunion
Will woke, feeling as if he’d had a full night’s sleep. He had answers to many of the mysteries of his past two months, and the basis for better questions. Like who had wiped his memory two centuries earlier, and why. Like how they’d kept him in suspended animation all that time, and why.
The craft had landed in the same clearing where the Hunters had found him earlier, showing that the autopilot feature in the vehicle was quite well-developed. He was back in the thick forests that were so familiar to him now, and it seemed that the trees remembered him as well. He could feel their Energy moving to him, and he responded in kind, feeling the now familiar intensification of the Energy flowing back to him. Perhaps trees had developed this capability in the past two centuries. Then again, he wouldn’t have known two centuries ago for purposes of comparison. He noted his clothing was yellowish-orange, and wondered if he’d start mutating at some point in the color progression.
Will thought through his actions carefully; acting impulsively in the past had caused problems. Will’s part in the stabbing of Aramis, and then his shooting of The Assassin, would be analyzed and discussed by the Aliomenti Elites. He expected that they’d provide whatever form of medical care existed in this future time to stabilize the injured men. He wasn’t sure if Aramis could be saved, though he couldn’t get himself to be upset about that. The man had been quite pleased to take Will somewhere to die, and tried to directly kill him in the distant past. Will had defended himself, without meaning for Aramis to be hurt. He didn’t feel the same way about The Assassin, though he doubted that the gunshot wounds would be fatal. He hadn’t made the shots with the intent of killing the man. If someone had told him he’d be more upset about the impending death of a man who’d tried to capture him, rather than one who had tried to kill Hope and Josh, he would have questioned their sanity.
Had The Assassin been telling the truth? Was he truly now a spy on behalf of the Alliance? And who was the master he’d spoken of? That would be another detail he’d need to learn. He ruled Angel out immediately. He’d been with Adam quite a bit, and the man seemed too stable to try something so rash and bold as to turn an Aliomenti Assassin to their cause. Fil seemed the type, or at least the most likely of the three he’d met. Of course, there were dozens of others in the camp, and every possibility that one of those men or women were responsible. Will simply didn’t know any of them well enough to make an assessment.
He needed to get back to them, his closest friends and confidants in the Alliance camp, if for no other reason than to warn them. But the last thing he wanted to do was to bring a wrathful team of Elites on them. If he was one of the Elites, he’d expect Will to go right back to the Alliance; then he’d follow Will Stark there with a truly massive attack force. Will had hurt two of their number badly, and now he needed to protect his closest friends in this future time, even if they’d been incredibly deceptive. Revenge was a powerful motivator, as Will well knew, and he couldn’t believe that his attack and escape would be forgotten. Focusing on all of this helped keep his mind on the other revelation from The Assassin; he needed to compartmentalize and deal with that information later.
He decided that he would not return to camp. He figured he was quite safe here, actually; the Elites would not be likely to come here and only get him. His best move all around was to stay here. Or move away from here, but to a site away from the camp. Perhaps he could mislead the Aliomenti into chasing him all over the planet. That would protect his core group, but what if he unintentionally led the Aliomenti to a different Alliance camp? He had no idea where those camps were located, or how many there were.
He needed to communicate with Angel, and Adam, and Fil. But how?
Then he realized that he had a rather untapped ability, the first he’d mastered here in this future world of people with nanos, personal flying craft, and incredible mental Energy abilities. Telepathy. And the person who’d taught him was Angel, the one he trusted above all others. It was a very low Energy ability, which meant that even Porthos shouldn’t be able to track it. And it was a risk that Will needed to take.
He directed his Energy in the direction of the camp, very low level, and thought of Angel. He hoped Angel would sense the Energy and contact him.
He didn’t have to wait long. Mr. Stark? Is that you? Angel’s voice projected into his mind.
Yes. I escaped from the Headquarters. A few of them got hurt in the process, including one of the Hunters, and he’s hurt very badly. I have a feeling they aren’t going to like that. I’m not risking coming back to camp and bringing all of them after you.
There was a pause. Where are you?
I’m back in the forest near our old camp, right where they took me. I—
Angel, Adam, and Fil appeared in the clearing. “Drop your Shield. You need to flood this place with Energy,” Fil said.
“What?” It was the last thing Will ever expected to hear from Fil.
“Do it,” Adam said. Will did, and Adam explained the logic as the Energy flowed from his pupil. “We’re pretty well Shielded, outside the Energy remnants left from teleporting here. If you’re right, they already know you’re here. Our best bet is for you to kick off lots of Energy, which should mask ours, and make them think any surges they’ve detected are just you.”
That made sense. Will spread his Energy around, especially into the trees, and felt the strengthening of the return Energy. The trio watched him with great interest. “How are you getting stronger while you’re doing that?” Adam asked.
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