An absence returned—a loathsome creature digging out its rightful home inside of him. Sorrow followed, dwarfing his physical pains as he saw his reflection in the water, the eyes looking back at him no longer burning, but human.
Rylee’s decision had been made and all he could do was scream.
Heyer grimaced when he heard the man’s pain. He closed his eyes and endured it, until Jonathan’s lungs ran out of breath. When it ended, he was still on the ground where Jonathan had shoved him aside, and the sound of the falling rain began to trail off. He heard Jonathan weeping at the mouth of the ally.
Heyer reached for the wall beside him and pushed himself to stand, seeing Jonathan knelt a half dozen yards away. His chin rested against his chest; his shoulders rising and falling with desperate breaths he seemed to be at a loss to control. The alien forced himself to go to him. As he drew near, he saw the tears, still cutting a path through the blood and dirt on Jonathan’s face despite it having rained all morning. The alien closed his eyes, leaning against the wall, and waited, not speaking until Jonathan grew still.
“Jonathan, I know it’s the last thing you want to think about now, and it is the last thing I want to ask you,” Heyer said. “But we remain in The Never. Grant’s stone must still be intact—attached to his device.”
Jonathan’s head tilted faintly toward the sound of Heyer’s voice, as though he’d forgotten the alien was there, but he didn’t turn. It took him awhile to respond, but Heyer did not rush him.
“I was afraid. That if I took it, I’d be pulled out. That I’d abandon her in here with your brother. Doesn’t matter,” he said, swallowing. “Couldn’t stop it—happened anyway.”
“Please, Jonathan, try not to do this to yourself,” Heyer said, “You are not the villain, I am—”
“Don’t,” Jonathan cut him off, shaking his head slowly. “Don’t tell me who to hate. Right now… I just can’t.”
Heyer took a step toward him, leaving the wall and reaching out to place a comforting hand on him, but he found he was too weak, and lost his balance. When Heyer fell beside Jonathan, he cut his chin on the alley floor. Jonathan didn’t move. He glanced at Heyer, but his thoughts were far away. Heyer’s fingertips went to the fresh gash, and they came away red. He didn’t realize how long he’d lingered on the blood until Jonathan’s voice broke the spell.
“How long has it been, old man?” he asked. “When was the last time you bled?”
Heyer’s lips drew into a line, and his eyes fell on Doomsday, wrapped around Jonathan the same way his father had done. He reached out to touch the chain, his fingertips accidentally wiping his blood on the links.
“You already know the answer,” Heyer said.
Jonathan took a long breath and let it out slowly. “Answer the question, old man.”
Heyer nodded slowly. “The day your father helped me transfer my implant to this body.”
Jonathan closed his eyes and nodded.
Though it had been from a distance, he had seen the way Jonathan moved against his brother—seen him wielding Doomsday, the weapon Heyer hadn’t been able to locate after its original owner perished ten years earlier. He had never known what he was looking for, but hoped to see a sign that Jonathan had accessed the man’s memories. He’d never expected what he’d seen, never thought those memories would somehow allow him to move like Echoes the Borealis. Now, he found he didn’t know how much of the man kneeling in the alley was Jonathan at all.
Jonathan rubbed lines of tears from his eyes. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked. “What did Malkier do to you?”
With an effort, Heyer sat up and pulled the arm of his coat down, revealing the band of alien steel. “It is a device my species used in hospitals and prisons. My brother must have taken this one off the Foedrata planet when he recovered the implant for Grant Morgan—as this one is meant to allow a surgeon to sedate a Borealis in a human host. He didn’t want me dead, just too weak to defend myself. It dampens my device—and it is making it quite difficult to stay conscious.”
“How do we get it off you?” Jonathan asked.
“Mr. Clean should be able to remove it, once we get out of The Never.”
“He can’t take it off in here?
Heyer sighed. “Nevric programmed his conscious functions to go permanently offline within an hour of detecting an unrecognizable dimensional signature in his surroundings,” he said. “A safety precaution. Like any being, she did not trust the shadow copy of her A.I. to continue obeying its programming for long if exposed to The Never’s deterioration.”
“Good to know,” Jonathan said.
Heyer studied him, but didn’t show any reaction on his face. Douglas had been well aware of Mr. Clean’s limitations. Jonathan, it appeared, was not. Whatever he had of his father’s memories, he didn’t seem to have everything.
“I entered The Never without a portal stone after it had come into being. To get back to Earth and get the dampener off, I will have to step inside the portal with you when Grant’s stone is destroyed. At first, this should put me on a course back to the Feroxian plane. I can use the same means I did to follow you into The Never to change direction before I reach the gateway on the other side.” Heyer sighed. “But I didn’t expect to be in this condition. The trip may leave me much worse, but unfortunately, it’s my only exit.”
“Alright,” Jonathan said.
The sounds of sirens approaching came, then. When they heard it, Jonathan’s face managed to look more tired than he already had. Heyer knew, all the man wanted was to be left to sit on that alley floor until he decided he was ready to move—wished he could give him the kindness that time would not.
Jonathan sighed and stood, reaching down to lift Heyer off the alley floor. He put one of the alien’s arms over his shoulders, and grunted down against some pain when he supported the weight. Even with an active implant, carrying Heyer was going to be hell on his injuries—but Jonathan said nothing of it.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
THE CITY BECAME background noise as Jonathan carried him to Grant’s remains. Their condition slowed them, but not as much as the helicopters in the sky and the police on the ground. Jonathan was careful to keep them out of sight until they entered the demolished flat. Heyer rested his back against a wall, and Jonathan removed his coat before disappearing down a dark shaft. A few moments later, he dropped the corpse beside Heyer’s feet.
On seeing the state of the remains, Heyer wondered what effect tearing open the body had had on Jonathan. Opening a Ferox was one thing, and by no means an indifferent experience, but killing a member of your own species tended to be far more disturbing. Yet, the distant expression on Jonathan’s face made it seem that he’d seen death too many times to feel anything from it now.
Examining the body, he saw why Jonathan had been reluctant to remove the stone. Three times the size of the norm, it remained tethered to the human implant with the same vein-like appendages that normally networked through the limbs of a Ferox. A small trickle of energy still flowed between the stone and the implant to keep the device itself from going dormant. Saddened by the understanding it brought, Heyer could do little more than shake his head in disgust. His brother had been right—Grant’s shadow had asked so very little in exchange before turning on his entire species.
“It appears that Malkier intended to fulfill his end of the bargain they made,” Heyer said, pointing to the lines still tying the stone to the device.
“Bargain?”
“In exchange for taking your life, he installed Grant’s device and allowed it to pull power the same way his and my own draw from the environment. But, it appears Grant did not wish to return to the Feroxian plane once he fulfilled his half of the deal. He wanted to remain in The Never, with all the power of the device still active. You see, under normal circumstances, killing you would sever the connection to the stone, causing it to self-destruct and setting off a chain reaction that takes your body and his back to the gateway on the Fer
oxian Plane.”
“So, he somehow kept that from happening by hooking the stone into his implant?”
“Theoretically.” Heyer nodded. “Seeing as Grant failed, there is no way to know if it actually would have worked. But the stone itself is larger because Malkier allowed a far greater energy expenditure to bring The Never into existence.”
“To make him stronger?”
“No,” Heyer said. “Thermodynamics. You see, the Ferox are sent here with the minimal expenditure of energy to open up an instance of The Never. This is why the physical deterioration asserts itself so quickly. Malkier was giving Grant a longer stay. I’m not sure I want to ponder what the man planned to do with it.”
“He was … stronger than me, at first,” Jonathan said.
Heyer nodded regretfully. “His device….” He trailed off, not wanting to go into the details. “Anyway, the strength from the bond overcame his advantage?”
Jonathan considered the question, and seemed to take a while to draw a conclusion. “It helped,” he finally said, looking down at the corpse’s face. “What I don’t understand, bargain or no, is why he wanted to kill me so badly in the first place. He fought like he was performing for an audience.”
Heyer nodded, his face looking like he’d eaten something that had gone bad. “Grant’s upbringing, it was painfully abusive—warped him in ways I’m not sure we can completely understand. He fixated on the notion that everything he endured stemmed from his father’s absence. I believe that this shadow of the man, upon learning he had little time left, needed to hold someone responsible. He usually aimed his aggressions at women, but ultimately, he fixated on your father.”
“Why do you know all this?”
Heyer sighed. “Because if he was going to hold someone responsible, it should have been me,” he said. “But seeing as I am currently residing inside the body of the father he put on such a high pedestal, I don’t think it played well into the shadow’s disillusions.”
“So, he wanted my father because Douglas helped you take his father’s body, but since he couldn’t get revenge on a dead man, I was the closest thing.”
“Perhaps,” Heyer said. “This copy was pulled from The Never—suffered its mental deterioration. Some part of him seemed to truly believe that if ‘Jonathan Tibbs’ proved a failure, it would somehow mean that Grant Morgan was a success.” Heyer gently closed the corpse’s eyes. “I doubt the true Grant Morgan is so lost to these delusions, but… no one can ever truly know what another feels.”
The distance in Jonathan’s eyes faltered and pain crept onto his face. Heyer watched him stand, stepping away from the corpse and turning his back on him. He walked to a broken window and gazed out onto the city streets below. The alien realized with regret how poorly he’d chosen his words.
“The shadows of us in The Never,” Jonathan said. “They give in to what they know they shouldn’t, what they want for themselves. They stop caring who it hurts.”
“It appears the deterioration can take that form,” Heyer replied.
Jonathan placed the palm of his good hand against the wall. “Tell me,” he said, a tremble having entered his voice. “With all that has happened, do you find yourself feeling relieved, old man?”
Heyer didn’t answer immediately, troubled by the wariness in Jonathan’s voice. “Why would I be relieved?”
A few moments passed before Jonathan spoke. “I did as you wanted. Got Rylee” —his voice faltered on her name— “to tell me everything about how she ended up here. You were right, inside The Never, your shadow told her enough to lead her to me.”
“Did she explain how she coerced the information out of me?” Heyer asked.
Jonathan’s head hung then. “When I heard her story, I thought she’d manipulated you—figured out that she could force what she wanted out of you by refusing to close the gates.”
“You thought?”
“Rylee was never really a threat to you, didn’t want to be your enemy; and I don’t think she really outsmarted you. She was desperate—trying anything she could to keep from giving up,” he said. “Your shadow used her as a pawn. You outsmarted yourself.”
Heyer studied the man’s back with growing concern. Jonathan’s mind had endured so much; he was beginning to fear that it had broken.
“Jonathan, you’re hurt, exhausted,” Heyer said gently. “You need time to recov—”
“I am truly exhausted,” Jonathan interrupted, his breath drawing in sharply before he continued. “More, I think, than I’ve ever been. But I’m not nearly as tired as you, old man.”
Heyer watched Jonathan with growing concern. His words seemed paranoid, making less sense the more he spoke.
Then, Heyer heard him whisper, “I am not ready to start a war for all of Mankind just so I can end a war for myself.”
Heyer’s eyes widened in recognition of his own words quoted back to him. He found himself swallowing—his fear that Jonathan was paranoid was far outweighed by the possibility that he was right.
“A saint could not endure what you have, old man. Struggling indefinitely to hold on to a status quo. No choice but to see and do things your conscience won’t forgive. The very people you sacrifice to preserve, only able to see your every action as evil and always unsure if all that effort will fail,” Jonathan said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I know the meaning of the word ‘exhausted’ when I think of you. You endure it all out of duty, but your shadow carries all that weight with it inside The Never. Rylee made you wait, refused to close the gates. When that sense of duty broke, you gave her just enough information to get her to close the gates, to lead her to me, and fast track us into a war.”
Heyer didn’t argue; he did not defend himself or claim that it was all a grand theory, all unknown speculation. He sat in thought, and when his words finally came, they sounded like a confession.
“I think you may be right,” he said.
Jonathan turned his head, enough to look back at Heyer from the corner of his eye.
“I do feel….” Heyer said, shaking his head, disgusted by the reality. “Relief, that an end is coming.”
Jonathan turned away again, sighing. “Your shadow gave you the mercy you would never give yourself. The damage was done before you could move to stop it, your conscience clear—because the real you would never know. Your shadow knew it was giving you the chance to fail without ever questioning if you had done everything you could.”
Heyer stared down at the face of Grant—found he held less judgment than he had a moment before. “The moment Dams the Gate died inside The Never, the war between man and Ferox became balanced on the edge of a precipice,” he said. “I might have kept it from going over, but Rylee’s appearance would have drawn even more attention to your gateway.”
“We both made mistakes, couldn’t see them because we were too close to the problem,” Jonathan said, “I wish I could have told her—”
Heyer saw Jonathan stiffen, his eyes going to the floor as his thoughts began to race.
“She wanted me to finish what I was saying,” he whispered. He dug a hand into his hair. “I think….” He paused in thought. “I don’t have to let this happen—she doesn’t have to die in here.”
Unable to follow the sudden change in him, Heyer began to pull himself up off his knees. “Jonathan, what are you talking about?”
“I activated before Rylee. But, there was no shadow of her when I first came inside The Never. It was like she’d disappeared. There was a window, a little less than a minute before she followed me in.”
Heyer could hear hope was growing in Jonathan’s voice as he thought out loud.
“Dammit! I’m an idiot! She already knew I’d make it out. She….” Hope left his voice as Jonathan finished the thought “She was so certain I wouldn’t remember.”
He did not like the sound of where Jonathan’s thoughts seemed to be heading. Unfortunately, if Jonathan was considering what he feared, lying to him wasn’t going to help.
>
“She’d have been mistaken. You should not experience any memory loss,” Heyer said. “The gaps you and she experienced before were a result of your overlapping time within. Your memories stopped where hers began. That is no longer possible—the stone that was tied to Rylee is no longer in play. Her body has already gone to the Feroxian plane, and her device is … well, it is in a state of flux relative to us. If she was behind you in entering The Never, it will manifest inside Mr. Clean’s armory when she follows. For now, though, only the stone from Grant’s shadow remains. It is tied to you. Destroying it alone will leave your memory intact.”
“Then there’s still time. I can warn her before she follows me in,” Jonathan said.
A moment of silence followed before the alien swallowed. “I’m sorry, Jonathan, but you aren’t going to do that.”
Jonathan must have heard the pity in Heyer’s voice, because he finally turned away from the window to look at him. How much of the man in front of him remained Jonathan, Heyer had no means to tell, but one aspect endured unquestionably: the man looking back at Heyer suffered the bond’s absence. Any hardness Heyer had seen from him fell away. He didn’t want to be told that the void inside of him had returned to stay.
“What do you mean?” Jonathan choked out the question. “Why?”
Heyer shook his head and looked to the floor when he couldn’t bear to watch the man’s hope be denied. “What you are describing,” he said. “Nevric referred to it as Proximity Overlap. She considered the danger of such a possibility in her records. Two individuals enter The Never, but at different moments in their natural dimension’s timeline. This creates an opportunity where the individual who entered first, upon returning, could convey information about what took place inside to the individual who has not yet entered. Theoretically, that information could change the outcome inside. Could create a logical impossibility in time … a paradox.”
The Never Paradox (Chronicles Of Jonathan Tibbs Book 2) Page 59