by White, Gwynn
Abby released the flame from his blade and holstered the weapon.
“You don’t need to do this,” he warned.
Again, Darya attempted a futile strike. Abby looked at the bangle. He didn’t know why she didn’t use the fang. He peered into her eyes. Her expression was fixed.
“Darya?” he asked. “Can you hear me?”
If she heard him, Abby couldn’t tell. Her expression hadn’t changed. The point of the sword, obviously too heavy for her, hovered before his gut, shaking with the tremble of her hand. He spread his fingers wide again and lashed out to clutch the blade. The angle of her brow didn’t change, nor did her smile. Abby understood why. Why she had no expression, why she held a weapon she was unfit for rather than the fang beneath her bangle.
Valon had complete control of Doctor Bedrosian.
Abby tugged at the sword, she resisted, and he tugged again.
“Enough!” Valon screamed, and the hilt of the heavy sword fell to the stage.
Abby glared at the red beast. Valon’s eyes darted to the sword on the floor, and with an end-over-end whirl, the length of metal took flight to the side of the stage, impaling one of his minions.
The clan chief grinned. Then he spun to his side and thrust his arm down toward the slaughtered female syns, collapsed at their master’s side, and to…
“Jazz,” Leta’s chin chip softly whispered.
56
They committed the first strike. Abby and Jazz simultaneously went airborne. One had fallen. Where other thoughts were clear to Abby, this one was muddy. A rush of images forced their way into his mind, others that had fallen, glimpses of battles he’d chosen to forget, accidents. Too many at once to process, countless without an exact focus, faces racing for names.
Jazz had never fallen.
Muddy.
Abby’s frontal lobe tensed, crushed.
Jazz had fallen. His body was sprawled face down across the corpses of the syns. The underside of Jazz’s white shirt seeped to the sides with the deep red of blood.
Valon wrapped his long fingers around the back of Jazz’s neck. His grin became a full fanged sneer. “Would you like to see his spine removed too?”
Abby said nothing.
Darya sidled close to her master. Her face was dull. The moment was dull. Abby was acutely aware of the Maro standing behind him, six of them with swords, the same as the one she’d swung. They triggered a spark of clarity. They were Valon’s guard. They’d been there before, to the side of the stage.
Valon slowly lifted Jazz by his neck then held him, a foot above the slain syns. A fount of red dripped from Jazz into the pool below.
“He’s taunting you,” chin-chipped Leta. “He’s afraid of you.”
Abby heard her, but his attention was fixed. There was something not right.
“He’s not dead,” he chin-chipped.
“What do you see?” she asked.
“Jazz,” he chin-chipped. “Can you hear me?”
It wasn’t with his ocular implant that he saw signs of life. He didn’t pick up any signature other than the residual nano activity that often lingered after an agent’s death, the ghost in the machine. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, no signal through the chin chip.
What he did see was in his mind, an image of Jazz standing. A premonition.
Valon rolled Jazz over onto his back then let go. Jazz was clutching the small jade idol. His skin was red, his blonde hair and shirt matted in blood, as were his throat and face. Abby scanned for an open wound. He saw none. He shifted his optics to find the hot spot of the bleed, first up, then down. Down red spectrum.
It was in the red spectrum that he saw the activity.
Abby sucked in an audible breath. “Do you see?” he asked.
“Yes,” Leta said. “His whole body is on fire, and—”
“He’s alive,” Abby said aloud.
Valon spoke. “He’s more than alive.” The Maro was reverent. “He is reborn.”
Jazz wasn’t dead. Through the chin chip, Abby heard the first beat of Jazz’s heart. His heart was beating again.
“Jazz,” Abby chin-chipped. “Blink if you can hear me.”
Abby’s eyes darted from Jazz to Valon to Leta, then back to Jazz.
He wasn’t going to make a move as long as there was a chance to save Jazz, and he figured Leta was right about Valon. The old beast didn’t want Abby too close. Not after witnessing what Abby had done to his minions.
“Jazz,” he said again. “Blink.”
Abby had isolated Jazz’s heartbeat through the chin chip, then his breathing. There was nothing else. Then came a voice. Abby. Jazz’s voice. But the voice wasn’t chin chip. Abby heard Jazz the same way he had when they’d shifted planes, when they were both aglow. Again, Abby, can you hear me?
Abby concentrated. Yes. Yes, Jazz. Can you move?
I’m not here. Ha, I mean, I’m not right there with you. I mean, I am. A bit tough to explain.
Where are you?
I’m where you go.
What do you mean?
When you gaze into the mirror, I’m there.
Abby felt a bead of sweat trickle from his hairline down his temple. Well, come back then. We’re out here. Blink to show me you can move.
I can do better.
Jazz’s eyelids sprung open. Abby’s neck stiffened. The blue of his friend’s eyes had been replaced by ruby red. Then the corners of Jazz’s mouth shot up, and his jaw dropped open. Long fangs, the same as the Jasper’s, protruded from his mouth, and as his lower lip quivered, a stream of blood poured out.
“The blood’s not his,” Leta said.
Jazz sat upright and rolled his head around. He smiled widely at Abby then Leta, then said, “You can’t imagine how beautiful they sound.”
“The Jasper,” Abby said. “It’s more than a jadeite device.”
Jazz nodded. “It’s a lot more.” He glanced up at the towering clan lord. “Help me up.” Valon bowed his head and gently helped Abby’s friend to his feet. Abby understood immediately.
“The Jasper’s not a fake,” he said.
“No,” Jazz said. “No, it’s not.”
“And Valon?”
Jazz shot his index finger up toward the now quiet giant. “This guy. Yeah, he works for me now.”
“That’s good, right?” Leta asked.
“Is that good?” Abby asked his friend.
“I think so,” Jazz said. “Solves a problem. This thing is incredible. Bronson was right.”
“How so?”
“You see them?” Jazz lifted the idol. “The nanos from the Jasper are coursing through me. That’s how it works. They got into me when I grabbed the stone, then into my buddy when he grabbed me. Thing is, they take a lot of energy.” He glanced at the syns on the floor behind him. “I just ate, and I’m still hungry.”
“I see,” Abby said. “So you have to kill to feed.”
“Oh, they’re not dead.”
“That’s semantics,” Leta said. “They’re syns. Mortals would die.”
“No, they wouldn’t,” Abby said. “They’ll reanimate soon enough, like a plague.”
“Bronson called it a virus,” Leta said.
Jazz wobbled his head. “I don’t know, Squire. She may be on to something. Bronson did say the nanos had to be powered by mortals. Maybe the syns aren’t close enough to the real thing. Guess we’ll have to see.” He glanced over to Darya. “Doctor Bedrosian.” She held out her left hand and stepped toward him. He gently took her fingers, kissed her hand and slowly twisted her wrist, running his tongue along her flesh as he did. With a rapid gnash, he tore his fangs into her. Darya gasped, but didn’t pull away. Jazz drew one, then another long pull from her, then rolled his head wildly back. “Woo!” he yelled. He gazed crazy-eyed at Leta. “You’re onto something. Mortal is much better.”
Quietly, Leta asked, “How could you?”
Abby’s answer was a mix of disappointment and fact. “The energy of the
warrior carved into the Jasper goes to the holder of the stone.” He looked at his dear friend, searching for something recognizable. “Compelling the possessor to take action.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Jazz said. “She’s gonna be just fine. Listen to her. Take a look. The magic has already begun.”
And the magic had already begun. Darya was swooning. Her eyes had drooped closed and she was lightly cooing. “I told you,” he said. “They sound beautiful.”
“What about them?” Leta nodded toward the Maro guard that stood behind Jazz. “They aren’t going to follow you.”
Jazz gestured to Valon. “They’ll follow him.” The guard, in sync, all bowed to Jazz. He touched a finger to his forehead. “And, apparently, me too. Hmm.”
“Because of the Jasper?” Leta asked.
“Because of the Jasper.” Jazz shrugged. “I don’t know. Because he’s him, and he’ll follow me.”
“Why?” she asked.
“Because he was the first to touch it,” Abby said. “I’m betting there are a few things unique to the first.”
“We’ll find out,” Jazz said.
“Fascinating,” Abby said. He held out his hand. “How about you let me see that?”
Jazz extended the Jasper, but pulled it back. “No. I don’t think so.”
“C’mon. You know I love these old things. I can help you out.”
“This is old. But no. I can’t see into your head, but I can see into Ole Valon’s as plain as a vid screen, and he has all these pictures of you vaping all his little buddies into thin air right up front. Can’t shake em’. And I’m guessing you don’t even know what you did.” He paused briefly to peer into Abby’s eyes. The new redness was foreign. Jazz was his friend but he wasn’t. “No,” Jazz continued. “You don’t have any idea. Huh, I don’t need to read your mind to know that. Sorry, pal. I don’t think we should stand too close to each other.”
His eyes darted toward Leta. “You, Captain. That’s a different story. Want to come for a cuddle? No?”
Abby bit into his lip. “Well, pal, you know I can’t let you leave.”
“And yet I’m leaving.” Jazz’s eyes looked up and around, as if he were seeing something in the air above. “Best for all of us, I think. See you around.”
Jazz smiled widely and winked. Abby realized that Jazz was about to jump and lunged toward him. In the half-second it took to cross the two meters of stage, Jazz was gone. They were all gone: Valon, his guard, the syns. Abby spun back to face the cavernous theater, and everyone else was gone too—the congregation, even the fallen—disappeared.
Only Abby and Leta remained.
57
Jazz possessed a jadeite device unlike any Abby had ever seen. The only traces of the congregation were their empty robes scattered across the theater floor. Using a remote quant with a team of six or more meant that at least one wasn’t going to make the jump whole. Five was the limit under the best circumstances. Jazz had taken the whole room. The Valon, the guard, Kasmine and Arcadians alike.
Abby walked passed Leta and off the stage.
“Where are you going?” she asked. “We have to stop him. We have to get the Jasper back. That stone is for real.”
“Do you know where he went?” Abby asked.
“No.”
“Do you happen to have a tracker or a remote quant on you?”
“No. But that thing you do—”
Abby spun back and glared coldly at Leta. He let out a sigh. “I think I know how to find him. First, we have to make it back to the cube.”
Leta nodded. “The pods.”
Abby turned and continued up the steps. “I’m thinking they were timed to begin opening when Valon took the power from the Jasper.”
“Then we’d better hurry.”
When he and Leta rounded the top step into the tall anteroom, they found one robed congregation member remaining. He was standing in front of the door to the tunnel, facing the long cylinder, not moving.
“Winslow,” Abby said as he and Leta approached. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. I don’t understand. Where did they all come from?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Abby said. “How many came through here?”
“A lot. I stood to the side and they ran through. Then the door closed and I couldn’t get through.” He pointed at the console. “We don’t have Darya’s bangle.”
Leta drew her pistol and an arc of light lashed into the side of the door. The transparent shield slid open.
“That could’ve gone way wrong,” Abby said.
“It didn’t,” she said. “C’mon.”
Leta launched into the tunnel and Abby followed, first at a jog, then at a full run.
When they reached the cube, the door slid open. The hiss and clack of valves releasing and vacuums unlocking bounced across the walls.
“It’s already started,” Leta said. “The pods are coming to life.”
“There has to be a huge power source around here,” Winslow said. “If we trace it, we could blow it?”
Abby raised his brow. “That’s a good idea. Except odds are a transplanar building like this is quantum powered, so even if we could blow the source, we would have no way of knowing the effect on the other planes or the Homeland. Besides, if word got out that we killed a million Maro, there would be a war for sure, with or without Valon.”
“Then what can we do?” Winslow asked.
Leta searched the vast floor. “If we can find a way to stop the pods from opening, then we can send the Bureau back to deal with this. Director Lin will know what to do.”
“Yes.” Winslow nodded. “Director Lin will know what to do.”
Abby frowned. “Over here,” he said. “There seems to be a status terminal mounted at the base of every pole.”
The three ran to the nearest pole. Abby flipped up the small tablet terminal mounted to the trunk. A chart across the screen listed the fifty pods above followed by a series of digital dials—tiny, color-coded pie charts that appeared to be filling with secondary colors. From above and across the cube, he heard air expressing as compression shifted. More pods were preparing to open.
“This one is definitely linked to this line,” he said.
Leta twisted her neck up and scanned the forest of pods. “There’s no time for us to get to each one.”
“Hold on,” he said, tapping away at the screen. “They’re all linked together. The damn thing is in Maro.”
“Can you stop it?”
A series of calculations flew into the front of his mind, images of what he should do next, then the understanding. “I can do better; I can reverse it.”
The image on the panel rapidly switched. With each new screen, Abby ran his fingertips across in a rapid burst. A series of loud clacks echoed through the cube, followed by the vacuum sucking sound of the thousands of pods that had already begun to depressurize.
“It’s working,” Winslow said. “It’s working!”
Abby stepped back. “I think we timed that just about right.”
“So what are we going to do now?” Winslow asked.
“Did you recognize any of the Arcadians that ran past you?”
The absent look returned to Winslow’s face. “There were mortals here?”
Abby’s eyes darted to Leta.
“We have to get Yun to pull a subpoena to lock down Arcadia,” she said.
Abby shook his head. “Are you crazy? He won’t. He can’t.”
“After he sees this place, he will,” she said. “All of these Maro, that’s treason against the Homeland.”
“Don’t be so naïve. Let’s get out of here.” The sooner they left Mahayana, the sooner he could track his old friend and Valon. The sight of the red beast had awakened an anger in him. An image flashed through his mind of the giant bull, and he saw himself twirl, lift, and kick.
And then there he was. The image was a premonition. The Maro wasn’t Valon, but he was a bull with the same black sclera behind red pupils
, the same purple markings along the long chin, and the same ram horns, but not so grown. This bull was one of Valon’s kin. Abby did as the vision had told him. He put his weight on his right foot, swung his left around and up across the jaw of the Red, surprising the beast, knocking him away, and before his leg returned to the ground, Abby drew his blade. The bull had two blasts in his chest before he hit the floor.
Abby swung his head back to Leta and Winslow. “There may be more,” he said. “They’ll reverse the process and open the pods.”
“Omega!” Winslow blurted. “Three, six, seven, five, nine, eight, two.”
Leta grabbed his shoulder. “What was that?”
“Um, self-destruct. I think. I don’t know why, but it just came to me. Yes. We have to go.”
Leta’s eyes darted to Abby.
“How should I know?” Abby asked. “You wanna wait to find out? I say we make a run for it and call in the cavalry.”
The three ran up the metal steps then across the catwalk.
Abby was winded when they reached the elevator. He pushed on the console, then dropped his hands to his knees.
“I didn’t see anybody,” Winslow said. “Did you?”
“No,” Abby said. A flash of light passed over their heads from the floor below. The wall crackled with the blast. “That doesn’t mean they don’t see us.” He crouched, drew his blade, and tapped the console again.
Leta, also crouched and drawn, let loose a blast.
“You see one?” Abby asked.
She shook her head. “No.” She fired again. “But they don’t know that.”
Another flash of light whizzed by.
Abby nodded. “Right,” he said, sending two streams of fuchsia light out into the forest of pods.
The elevator door slid open behind them and they backed inside. Seconds later they were clear of the cube, and in another few minutes, the door opened to Darya’s office and flashing red lights.