by D. N. Leo
She needed to think. She was his only connection.
What could she do? Punch through the ice block. Should she use that trick again?
Madeline kissed Ciaran's cold lips. He wasn’t responding this time. She used her thoughts again.
Use my strength, Ciaran. Come back to me. Punch through the ice. You can do it.
Madeline grabbed his hands.
She squeezed them.
Nothing worked. He didn’t respond.
"Come on, Ciaran," she said aloud.
On the screen, a dim shard of light drifted into the distance in space and time.
The image flickered. Flickered. Flickered. Then it went blank.
Ciaran let go. And he sank.
In the darkness, an image of Madeline appeared. She was on top of Ciaran. She was pulling him back up. He could see her face. He could see her pulling him up toward the light.
She looked at him. She smiled. She was as beautiful as an angel, coming out from the darkness. She gave him air. She kissed him. She held his body and pushed him upward.
Use my strength, Ciaran. Use my body. Come up with me.
They both moved up through the dark water toward the light. Together, their bodies punched through the ice.
It broke away like thin crystal.
In the room, Ciaran gasped and opened his eyes.
He saw Madeline's face. Still the same as it had been in the dark water. She looked like an angel. She was giving him air. She was kissing him. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t need to look at him. They were connected. They had come from the darkness into the light, using their unified energy.
At this moment, they were one.
"You're very photogenic, especially when there is lust in your face, Madeline," Jo said while gawking at the monitor.
Madeline didn’t register the information about the world around her. She was straddling Ciaran—the same way she had pulled him up from the dark water. She kissed him, and Ciaran held on to her.
"Hey, hey, hold on! You guys have a live audience here," Tadgh protested as Madeline and Ciaran kissed even more intensely.
Everyone hurried out of the room. They closed the door behind them.
Chapter 92
Everyone else left, but Jo stood outside the door of Ciaran’s room for a little longer. She had to digest all of the information. Her head was still ringing.
The last seventy-two hours had been such a journey. War, sacrifice, death, life, love, and lust. It was truly surreal. The most bizarre thing is that the entire experience hadn’t been a game. She didn’t even design such weird settings for her games.
In only a few short weeks, her life and Madeline’s had changed forever.
Although she’d go back to New York with Madeline soon, nothing would ever be the same. She knew Madeline would drag this out until right before Ciaran had to leave for Eudaiz. Then she’d tell him she couldn’t go with him. Jo had promised not to tell.
It was awful, but she would do the same if she were in Madeline’s place.
Then an image of Tadgh crossed her mind. She smiled to herself. There was something about him that made her smile whenever she thought of him. Something sweet and gentle.
Jo turned to go back to her room. While she was walking down the hallway, a door opened, and someone dragged her inside.
She was grabbed so fast that she didn’t recognize who was pulling her—or to where. She fell into someone’s arms.
There, she recognized Tadgh’s masculine scent and his strong grip around her waist. "What in the world are you doing, Tadgh?"
“I owe you a slap in the face.”
She smiled and swung her arm. She stopped her hand an inch from his face. “You really aren’t going to duck?”
He grinned. “I promised you.”
Madeline was right. The LeBlanc brothers should trademark their signature grins.
“All right. I forfeit my rights to claim that slap. Consider it a truce. I’m tired, Tadgh. I just want to go back to my room.”
Tadgh nodded. He turned and picked up the game console she had designed for him from a side table. “I completed all the levels of the game.”
She took it from him. “Impressive. Do you want the next level?”
“As long as you design the games, I’ll play all of them.”
“Why? You said you hated gadgets.”
“But I love trying to understand how your mind works.”
Shit! She stared at him. He’d hit it—her weak spot. Damn it. Jo turned away. “I’ll design another level for you. It’s going to be more difficult . . .” she said as she walked out of his room.
Tadgh grabbed her from behind. He spun her around and pressed her against the wall so fast that it knocked the breath out of her. He gazed into her eyes and sealed her lips with his kiss.
All she wanted at that moment was to surrender.
He carried her, and in a second, she was on her back in his bed. Passion pulsed out of every pore of his body. He was irresistible.
Regardless of how many men she’d been with, she’d never experienced this strong of a pull. She had always been the one in control. She would normally flip the man over and pin him down. But she lay there and took him as he came.
She tugged at his shirt and dug her hands into his taut muscles. His body was erupting with pleasure. So was hers. She could normally luxuriate in the pleasure and then walk away.
But not with Tadgh.
She stopped their kiss.
Tadgh opened his eyes and looked down at her.
She touched his cheek and tucked his hair back. “I don’t do long term, Tadgh. If we do this, it’s only going to hurt down the road.”
Tadgh eased off her, then off the bed.
He held a hand out to help her stand up. Then he led her to the door.
“You’re not going to say anything?” she asked.
He lifted her chin up and kissed her lightly on the lips. “I don’t do long term, either. And you’re right. This will only hurt us.”
Chapter 93
The next morning, after a meeting with Lindsay to arrange a series of executive duties for LeBlanc Pharmaceuticals, Ciaran drove Madeline, Tadgh, and Jo to the villa outside London. They went to the villa to retrieve the disk as she had promised her grandfather.
Madeline glanced at the sky—it was as overcast as her mood. The closer it was to the time that Ciaran had to take up his duty with Eudaiz, the shorter the time she had with him. She didn’t want to resent fate, but there wasn’t much else she could do.
"Madeline!" Ciaran called out.
"Huh?"
"Is that the villa?"
Madeline looked to where Ciaran was pointing. The villa looked the same, surrounded by a fence of trees. "Yes," she said.
Ciaran parked at a distance from the front gate.
"It looks deserted," he said.
"Don't tell me they all died at Fountains Abbey. We didn't kill that many of them," Tadgh said from the back seat.
"The police said there were more than forty bodies in Mrs. Hanson's house. Someone must have killed all the soldiers and stashed their bodies there," Jo added.
"What was Richard like when you last talked to him?" Ciaran asked.
"As if we'd been friends forever!" Tadgh sneered.
"He said Eudaiz is a universe, not just a country or a planet. He must be looking after a lot of people . . .” Madeline’s voice trailed off when a blast of metallic stench engulfed her. She glanced around. She didn’t see her ghost or any blue dots.
But she had the sickening feeling that someone or something was watching her.
“Are you okay?” Ciaran tilted her chin up and looked into her eyes. Whenever he did that, she tended to give in and spill whatever she was withholding from him. She shook her head.
“I . . . just have a severe headache.”
“I’ll take you home as soon as we finish this.” He glanced toward the house.
"How many were in the house when you we
re here?" Ciaran asked.
"About twenty. I think the villa looks fine . . . "
The entrance door slid open, and a man walked out.
Ciaran pushed Madeline behind him. Tadgh did the same with Jo.
The man walking toward them looked to be in his forties. He wore a dark suit that could comfortably conceal a gun. Ciaran shifted slightly. Tadgh made exactly the same move. Madeline knew they were both making sure their weapons were readied.
The man approached. "Madeline, Ciaran, Tadgh, and Jo."
"Yes . . .” Madeline said.
"I’m Lucien Hine. I replaced Douglas."
Madeline remembered vividly how Douglas, the head of the fighters, had died at Fountains Abbey. Douglas had been kind enough to her and was a good subordinate to her grandfather.
"Mr. Hine, we're here to collect the disk as instructed," Ciaran stated.
"Yes. I've been waiting for you. Please come with me." Lucien turned and made a beeline for the house.
Inside, he strode toward a wing leading to a side door. He turned into a larger room, spacious and empty. Ciaran glanced at the setting—or lack thereof. He saw nothing suspicious.
"I’m clearing out this place," Lucien said.
"And going where?" Madeline asked.
"That's to be announced." He pointed to the cabinet. "There. I could have brought the disk to you, but Richard insisted you all come here and see the gateway. I think he meant this machine."
Lucien pressed a series of buttons on a wall panel. At the far end of the room, a wall-sized door slid open, revealing a mainframe computer unit that took up the entire width of the wall.
Rows and columns of electronic signals flashed and flowed across the screens. A control panel was located in the lower right corner. Its black glass shone, and its silver buttons were decorated with unrecognizable symbols. Madeline speculated that they were ancient symbols or some kind of language from Eudaiz.
Ciaran stood in front of the machine wall, shoving his hands into his pockets, looking at the machine as if it was a classical painting in an art gallery.
Jo gaped at the machine. "It's still operating. What will happen if we eject the disk?" Jo whispered.
Ciaran shook his head. His eyes were cool and flat. "I wouldn't take the disk now. Not until I am sure what’s on it."
“How will you know what’s on the disk without taking it home?” Lucien asked.
“I’ll operate this machine,” Ciaran said.
"It won’t trigger anything, will it, Ciaran?" Madeline asked with concern.
"We're not yet ready for you to head into another dimension for another bloody training session,” Tadgh said.
Ciaran contemplated. Then he turned toward Lucien.
"Who operated this computer before?"
"Juliette. At least that's what I've been told. I never met her," Lucien responded.
Tadgh rolled his eyes. Madeline asked, "Do you know what happened to Douglas? What exactly is your task here?"
"I've never met anyone in this house. It's a bit strange. I spoke to Richard via holocast . . .”
“Holocaust? What kind of communication is that?” Tadgh winced.
“No. Holo cast. It’s an advanced communication channel that projects holographic images in augmented reality environments,” Lucien spoke with authority in his voice.
“That’s the funky beam of light where holographic images can walk around inside it—or jump out if they choose to. The same way Juliette kicked your ass before, Tadgh.” Jo grinned.
“Nothing’s funky about that beam,” Tadgh grumbled.
“That’s the way space stations communicate these days. I don’t want to make things complicated. The technology is very advanced. My task is to give you as much assistance as I can so that you can reunite with your grandfather,” Lucien said.
“Please make it simple. We’re rookies when it comes to computers.” Madeline smiled.
Ciaran chuckled. “We need to talk to Richard now. Would you mind giving him a call via holocast?"
Lucien shook his head. "He left this morning and won't be available for three days."
"Well, we don’t want to try to operate this machine until we have more information from Richard. So we'll come back later when he’s available to talk to us. Madeline can speak to him from anywhere," Ciaran said and turned to leave.
"But I have to demolish this place tomorrow. That's my job. Come on!” Lucien said.
“It will have to wait," Ciaran said dryly and walked away.
"Come on. You've seen the gateway machine. Why don't you take the disk with you? I'll turn this machine into scrap metal tomorrow anyway. Here." Lucien slammed his palm onto a gray eject button.
"Holy crap!" Tadgh said.
Ciaran and Tadgh pushed Madeline and Jo behind them. They all stared at the machine, unsure whether moving was a good idea.
The disk was ejected from the machine. The screen of the control panel flashed one line of green text: Task completed.
"Which task?" Madeline asked.
A number appeared on the screen, counting down by one unit per second: six zero four seven nine nine, six zero four seven nine eight, six zero four seven nine seven . . .
"Is that a time bomb?" Tadgh gasped.
"We’re getting out of here," Ciaran said. They hurried toward the door while Lucien stood still, puzzling at the machine.
When they were at the door, the control panel flashed a red line of text: Six zero four eight hundred.
Lucien eventually turned and darted for the door.
They stormed outside the villa.
From a relatively safe distance, Ciaran asked Lucien, "What exactly did Richard tell you to do?"
"He said you would come and collect the disk. I had to make sure you saw the gateway before you left."
"My grandfather didn't ask you to eject the disk, did he? He wanted us to see the computer so we knew what to do and to take the disk without triggering some sort of countdown," Madeline said.
"Why didn't you say so before? Why didn't Richard make that clear?" Lucien protested.
"I don't think Richard knows about the countdown," Ciaran said. “Juliette must have coded it in.”
Tadgh snorted. "He should have known Juliette better. And we have no idea what sort of bonus features Juliette may have kindly programmed into the disk.”
"All right. It's my fault. I'll go in and get the disk for you," Lucien said.
"Don’t do that. It might explode when you pull it out," Madeline said.
"It's a countdown to something. What's the original figure, Tadgh?" Ciaran asked.
Madeline noted that Ciaran assumed Tadgh would naturally remember the number. She was astonished when Tadgh actually remembered it.
"Six zero four eight hundred," Tadgh said.
"So what is that?" Ciaran asked.
Tadgh contemplated. "It's the number of seconds in seven days."
Jo gawked at Tadgh.
Ciaran nodded as if it was no surprise to him that Tadgh had been able to calculate the answer. Ciaran contemplated. "All right, even if it is a time bomb, we still have time. I'm going in to see if I can stop it."
"What if I'm wrong?" Tadgh asked.
"About the numbers?" Ciaran raised an eyebrow at Tadgh. "Then we won't stand a chance at anything else," he muttered and strode toward the villa. They all followed.
In front of the gigantic computer, the countdown had reduced by five minutes, the amount of time they had spent outside.
"See, you're right, Tadgh. It's a countdown by the second," Ciaran said.
"That ought to help," Tadgh muttered.
Ciaran looked at the machine for a while. Then he said, "I'm going to try something. Why don't you all leave the premises for the moment?"
There was no movement behind him. He turned around to stern stares from everyone. Ciaran turned back to the computer and typed some commands.
The monitor flashed: Insert the disk.
"I'm asking the compu
ter to resume the task it was undertaking before. I'm trying to reverse the process to see if I can trick it into thinking that the disk had never been ejected," Ciaran said.
"You know what you’re doing . . . you don't have to tell us, Ciaran," Jo said.
Ciaran nodded and continued typing.
The monitor flashed again: Insert the disk.
Ciaran shifted his left shoulder, then pushed at the disk. It slid silently inside the massive computer. The machine hummed for a second.
The monitor flashed again. The requested task has been completed. Do you want to re-execute it?
Ciaran shook his head. Then he said something in French. He typed in a negative command. Ciaran typed another command.
The monitor flashed: The report is not available.
Ciaran mumbled something else in French. Although Madeline didn’t speak French, it sounded like swearing to her. When she saw a smile on Tadgh's face, she knew Ciaran was cursing out the machine.
Ciaran typed in more commands. There were more responses from the machine, but nothing useful about the task the machine had executed. At the same time, the numbers continued their countdown down by the second.
Ciaran stopped typing and thought for a moment. Then he typed again.
The monitor flashed: The information is available. Palm print verification required.
A square box appeared on the surface of the monitor.
Madeline stepped forward from behind Ciaran. She nudged him aside and placed her palm on the monitor. It was obvious Ciaran didn’t agree with Madeline’s action, but he didn’t say anything.
* * *
Text flew on the monitor:
Print verified.
Madeline Kelley.
Biological age: Thirty-three.
Born in Alphi.
Citizen of Eudaiz.
Successor of Sciphil One—Richard Kelley.
Exempt from elimination.
* * *
"Exempt from elimination. What the hell does that mean?" Madeline asked.
Ciaran darted at the control panel. His fingers flew over the keyboard.
The monitor flashed: Population of Eudaiz: six hundred and four point eight billion residents.