“Okay, Uncle Zeke, I’m going to activate it, which means no water can seep in, and that will also protect us from attacks,” Jules said, receiving a nod from Slate. “Whatever you do, don’t fire your pulse rifle inside the sphere. I don’t know what it would do, but it might ricochet and hurt someone.”
“Got it. No pulse fire,” Slate said. “Ready when you are.”
Jules closed her eyes, already feeling a slight strain from having the field around them for a couple of minutes. She told herself it would work, and she snapped the edges of the sphere tight. She didn’t have to worry about air, since their EVAs were feeding it to them. “Go!” she shouted, and Slate pressed the doors open. Water rushed in, pushing around her bubble. It filled the ship quickly and rushed at the ball, shoving it from the ship and along the bottom of the lake.
The lakebed was covered in colorful seaweed, and shiny glistening metals hid as tiny flecks in the sand. Jules noticed miniature creatures rushing away from their sphere as it rolled toward them and away from the ship. The sphere was green along the edges, but she could see through it and control it, and she did, lifting them off the ground and toward the distant light above.
She didn’t know how deep they were, but it wasn’t a quick trip. Instead of racing directly up, where an awaiting attacker might expect them to emerge, she moved at a slight incline, maybe a twenty-degree angle, heading in the direction of the lake’s edge.
“This is amazing,” Dean said quietly, and Jules swelled with pride.
“How can you do this?” Wentle asked, his voice thick and unexpectedly hearty.
“She’s a little busy, kid,” Slate told the Padlog boy.
“I was born with it, Wentle.” Jules kept them moving through the water, no thrusters initiated, only her sheer will.
“Incoming,” warned Dean, and Jules peered around them to see an entire school of the eel creatures chasing after the ball, as if they were interested in an underwater game of fetch.
“Steady…” Slate stood at the bottom of the sphere, which forced them to all bunch up in the center because of the shape. She was at the front of them, trying to not concern herself with the imminent attackers.
It grew more difficult as the eels began to barrage the edge of the sphere with angry taps of their noses. Soon they were circling around the ball, pressing hard into it from all sides.
Water started to leak through her energy field from above them, acting like a shower. “Jules, any way to close that?” Slate asked.
She didn’t even know how it had sprung a leak. She tried to fix it, concentrating on sealing the sphere with her mind. It failed.
They were nearing the surface, but that would leave them some ways from the coast. The eels kept hitting them, most of them in front of Jules, as if they knew she was responsible for the atrocity entering their home.
“Jules?” Slate asked, and she saw the look of horror in his face. “Your eyes…”
The power faded with the green color as the sphere broke through the surface before disappearing.
“Everyone stay close,” Slate said, treading in his EVA.
Dean activated his suit’s thrusters under his feet, sending blue light shooting below him. He clutched Kira, and Canni did the same, showing Wentle how to do it.
“Mine won’t work!” Extel shouted, and began sinking.
The eels took their opportunity and attacked the Inlorian girl. Jules flung out her power, but nothing happened.
Eleven
“Hold on a moment,” I said, putting a hand to Frasier’s chest. He glanced at my fingers, and I removed them, snatching my arm away.
“You don’t find it a little convenient that this guy happened to be waiting for someone to lead him to us?” Frasier asked.
“Truth is, I had no idea where to find you. I landed in France and started asking questions. I must have been a little too vocal about it, because people were telling me to be more cautious. I nearly had the crap beaten out of me in a bar before a woman whispered Markus’ address into my ear and sent me on my way.
“Apparently, not a lot of Earthers are feeling great about what you’re trying to do,” I said, hoping he’d take the bait and tell me what their goal was.
“Right. Can you blame them?” Frasier relaxed, gesturing silently for Amada to lower the gun. She did, the gun vanishing in a heartbeat. She was dangerous. “So you were living in France? What were you doing in New Paris?”
“I didn’t realize it was a sin to live abroad. I take it you grew up in this here villa?” Magnus said, not flinching a bit. He was born for this role. He ashed his cigar, waiting for an answer.
“Touché, my friend. Tell us your story,” Frasier urged him.
Magnus went on to tell a story of shipbuilding in his hometown, learning from his father and grandfather. He’d started to take over their custom boat business when the Event occurred. All he’d ever wanted was to work with his hands and live in the woods, but life had a way of messing up his plans. By the end of his tale, I knew he’d won over our host.
“And the two of you met, and somehow found us out here,” Amada said doubtfully.
“Honestly, it wasn’t that difficult,” I told her.
“Then you won’t mind telling me?” Frasier said.
“I’d rather not. It took persuading a few people in your organization, and calling them out would betray their trust.” I hoped that would work, because my real story was a lot less inspiring.
Frasier squinted and took another sip from his glass. “Is that so? My own people gave you my location, and you won’t tell me who they are because you know I’ll…”
“Reprimand them,” Magnus finished.
Our host grinned. “Yes. They will be reprimanded. How very kind of you, Don. I appreciate the fact you don’t want to rat them out, but I don’t enjoy the thought of being found here because of loose lips. That’s the problem with running an organization like this. There are so many people that buy into the theory of it, but most don’t know the true costs to ensure it happens. The moment they see the guns and a body dead on the dirt, they run for the hills.
“Don, you seem bright. Have you ever heard of a revolution happening without bloodshed?”
“I can’t say that I have,” I told him.
“Occasionally, the only way to get what the people need is to take it,” Magnus added, puffing his chest out for emphasis.
Amada appeared calmer, and she finally had another drink from her nearly-full glass.
“You two have surprised me. I think we may be able to accommodate your entrance into my circle. You sure you don’t want to live in one of our communities before committing?” Frasier asked.
“Isn’t this one of them?” I asked.
“No, my friend. This is my home base, one of many around the world. You see, I like to keep myself mobile, because I have a feeling there are people out there searching for me,” he said quietly. “Only they may want to end me, instead of joining me.”
This was it. Frasier was essentially telling me he was the leader of the Restorers, but I thought it might be his ego talking. I was willing to bet he was taking heat off a higher-ranked leader.
“I take it you’ll be leaving now,” Magnus said.
“You win the prize,” Frasier said. “The question is, what do I do with you two?”
Amada cracked her knuckles. “I have a few suggestions, hermano.”
“And I’d love to hear them after we get these two settled for the night. I hope you don’t mind being locked into a room,” he told us.
“No sweat. Do you have any ear plugs? This one snores.” I pointed to Magnus.
“I do not.” Magnus stared at Amada. “I swear, I don’t.”
“And I don’t care,” she replied.
“We stay here tonight, then what?” I asked him.
Frasier stood, finishing his wine; he set the glass down and placed his hands on his hips. “Then you prove your value. You do a job for me,” he said.
“A job?” Magnus asked.
“Sure. That’s how this works. You do something the Restorers need to fulfill our final plan. Everyone must do their part to prove their loyalty,” he said.
That sounded easy enough. He’d tell us the big plan, send us on a mission, and we could escape, informing Paul and the others what we’d learned. I had hopes we’d be done in three or four days, heading to Haven, where Mary and Hugo were waiting for me.
It made me think about Jules and her mission on Menocury L05, and I silently wished her the best. It was difficult letting her do something like that without me around, but Slate and Suma were there, and they were two of my oldest friends. They’d never let anything bad happen to my little girl.
“Amada, show our guests to their room and see to their needs. I’ll check in with you in the morning,” he told the woman, and walked over to Magnus. “I hope you are who you say you are.” He extended his hand, shaking Magnus’, then mine. “Because I’d hate to have to kill you before breakfast.”
I didn’t say anything, and neither did Magnus as Frasier turned and sauntered out of the room, his steps cocksure.
Amada waited cross-armed under the arched doorway. “This way.” She waved us through the hall and outside. The air was already a lot cooler, and we carried our packs over a stone pathway to one of the many outbuildings on the villa’s property. This one seemed like something the housekeepers might have lived in. She opened the door, finding a candle on the round wooden table inside.
Amada lit it and passed it to Magnus. “The outside door will remain locked. Do not attempt to leave the building until I retrieve you in the morning. ¿Entender?” she asked.
“Understood,” I said and she closed the door, leaving us alone. We heard the flipping of a hasp and the clicking of a padlock.
Magnus was near the door, and he pressed his ear to it, waiting for her footsteps to echo away. When we were sure she’d departed, he let out a puff of air from deep within his chest. “That was close, don’t you think?”
“You did a great job, Mag.”
He came to stand right beside me, leaning in to whisper into my ear: “They could be listening.” His gaze searched the room, and so did mine. The walls were stone, the ceiling carved and rounded at the corners. To my left was a fireplace; a dark wooden mantel that was probably hundreds of years old hung above the kitchen centerpiece. This was where they would have cooked back in the day, and I thought this was the perfect setting for the Restorers: in a Spanish villa that had been around since before the Industrial Revolution.
The candle flickered as Magnus moved across the compact room, toward the bedroom. I followed, picking up our sole source of light.
“I don’t see anything, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t listening,” I whispered. It would be best not to talk about anything that could incriminate us or reveal who we truly were, and Magnus had already picked that up.
“How about that wine? I wonder if…” He started searching through the cupboards and let out a triumphant shout as he found two bottles of dark red wine tucked behind a bag of rice. “Voilà.”
“You know this isn’t a vacation, right?” I asked him.
“You try being on a ship for so long.” He seemed to catch his mistake. “I was at sea for almost a year after building that last one in Sweden.”
“I hear you. I’ve been wandering aimlessly for ages,” I said, hamming it up in case they were listening to our conversation. I could picture Frasier lighting another cigar as he eavesdropped on us. “It feels good to be doing something. I want to make a difference.” Out of context, it sounded like I meant working for the Restorers, but I really did feel that way.
Over the last few years, I’d taken a real backseat to everyone else. Magnus was the captain of Horizon, Slate was teaching at the Academy, and Mary was chairman of the board of our ever-expanding Alliance of Worlds. I was more of a liaison to all of those things, as well as New Spero and Earth, keeping in touch with the mayors and Leonard, who recently had superseded Patel as the Terran One mayor, putting him in charge of the whole shebang.
All of that took about one week a month, leaving me idle for the rest of the time. I could only read so many books and take so many walks. I was growing bored, but I also knew a battle was coming. Lom of Pleva had only been sent twenty years into the future, and he’d return when Jules was twenty years old. I had seven years to prepare, only I wasn’t sure how to do that.
The answer had to lie in my daughter. Even then, Lom had threatened my family, my wife and daughter. How would it end when he appeared once again? No one could know, but in the meantime, I was on Earth trying to stop something dire from happening to our people.
“Dea… Don, you’ve had a varied path, but it’s on track now,” Magnus said, patting me on the shoulder. He uncorked the bottle of wine and sniffed the contents. “Smells good. Hasn’t turned to vinegar.” He found two glasses and poured.
“I’m not sure drinking wine is a good move, fella,” I said. The furniture in here was old but amazingly solidly built. It appeared as though someone came in here and cleaned, because there wasn’t a drop of dust in the place.
“Fire?” I asked, seeing a stack of wood beside the hearth in the living room.
“Why the hell not?” Magnus asked.
I set to work, adding paper and kindling, and I used a lighter to start it. “Do you think they’re against lighters?”
Magnus shrugged, taking a seat near the fireplace. “I really don’t know. I suppose we’ll find out. They have guns, and all sorts of other things here that aid their ways. What’s the level of technology that starts to cause problems for our race on the whole?”
“Good question.” A light knock on the door carried across the room, and I jerked my head toward the sound. I lifted a finger to my lips and rose from the fireplace.
Magnus came beside the door, his back against the wall.
“Hello?” I asked. They knocked again. “It’s locked. I can’t…” The padlock rattled and the door opened a crack.
A woman stood there, dressed all in black, and her eyes bounced around nervously. Her hood covered most of her features, but I did see some spiky hair poking out the front. “I don’t know who you are, but I don’t think you’re telling Frasier the truth. You should leave. Things are about to become worse, and…”
A noise carried from near the main home on the property, and she inhaled a quick frantic breath. “Meet me at the Stuffed Truffle in Pisa. I’ll explain.” She glanced away. She pressed the door closed, and we heard the padlock snap into place.
Magnus rolled his eyes. “Everyone’s always so dramatic,” he muttered so quietly I could hardly hear. I could only hope Frasier didn’t have the room bugged. If he really was anti-tech, would he use listening devices?
“How did she know we were lying?” I asked Magnus.
“I don’t know, but the Stuffed Truffle sounds like a nice place.”
Twelve
Slate fired his weapon underwater, sending a series of blasts towards the incoming eels. One of the creatures battered Extel Four in the chest, and she flew away from Jules.
“Come on, work…” Jules urged her powers, but nothing happened. They were close to the surface, and Jules swam up, breaching the top. She saw land a couple hundred meters away. Not too far.
She dove under again, where Canni and Slate were between the other students and the attacking eel-monsters. There were a lot of them… too many to stop.
“Jules, bring the others to the coast,” Slate shouted through his mic.
Dean was already helping Extel, trying to use his thrusters underwater. They worked, but they also caused the water to heat and churn, making it more difficult to see.
“Jules, take Kira and follow us,” Dean said.
“Go!” Jules shouted, and watched as Dean and the Inlorian girl raced away. A group of the eels broke away from their school and followed. She pulled a pulse pistol from her thigh and fired at one as it ne
ared Kira, who was useless at the moment. The little blue girl hadn’t managed to turn her thrusters on, and she was sinking to the bottom of the lake.
“Kira, flick on the thrusters!” Jules shouted, firing toward the ten or so long monsters following the Molariun student.
“I don’t know how,” Kira said.
They all knew the procedure. It had been taught to them repeatedly, but some people didn’t have the ability to remain calm under pressure. Jules needed to help her, or Kira wasn’t going to make it. She glanced up to see Slate and Canni firing at the main horde, slowly moving away, retreating to the shore.
There wasn’t much time. She needed her abilities to spark. Jules cut her thrusters and sank to the bottom, finding Kira there, flailing as one of the eels hit her in the leg.
“It’s now or never,” Jules said, but nothing came through. It was as if she’d never had the Iskios powers to begin with. “Kira, follow my instructions!” Jules explained how to activate the thrusters as she kicked her own on again, leaning forward to shoot toward the attacking eels. She swatted at the thick muscled beasts and shot a couple others.
“I did it!” Kira said in triumph as Jules arrived.
“Good, thrust out of here. Move!” Jules shouted, seeing more of the creatures heading toward them.
Kira started shifting, her feet sending her up and away slowly. “Faster. Crank it up!” Jules shouted, and did the same thing, racing after the girl.
The eels caught Jules, banging into her suit with hard heads. She was assaulted at least three times, their rock-hard heads bashing into her sides and kidneys, before her right foot thrusters cut out, sending her into an underwater spiral.
She caught a glimpse of Kira in the distance, and Slate was telling Jules they were on the shore. She barely registered the words as she spun away from the underwater attack.
“Kira’s coming! Bring her out!” Jules managed to shout at Slate through her mic, and when she finally stabilized herself, she was surrounded.
Old World (The Survivors Book Eleven) Page 9
