Stones: Theory (Stones #4)

by Jacob Whaler

  They emerge onto an open balcony overlooking a long stretch of beach that extends for miles to the right and left. White lines of waves make their way onto the sand and run up its gentle slope until they disintegrate into foam, leaving nothing but the rhythmic sound of surf. Two chairs wait on either side of a small table. Fruit and pastries cut into curious shapes lie scattered on a lacquered tray. Wafts of steam rise from cups filled to the brim with pink liquid.

  Jhata drops into a chair. “Have some tea.” She reaches out and brings the cup to her lips.

  “You are most kind.” Ryzaard relaxes and allows the green energy shield to slip away. His hand goes out and brings the drink to his mouth where it flows, warm and succulent, down his throat. A feeling of expansiveness circulates out from his belly, relaxing both his body and his mind.

  “You want to talk?” Jhata says. “OK, I’m here.” She eyes his body with the green shield gone. “Don’t waste my time.”

  Ryzaard puts the tea down on the table. “I’m nearing a major milestone in my work on my home planet. Plans are set in place, moving to a final conclusion. There’s just one snag.” He takes a fruit resembling a grape off the tray. “A small problem with technology.”

  “Or lack thereof, right?” Jhata takes another sip and reaches for a cube that looks like blue chocolate. “I’ve already been inside your mind and seen the problem.” She brings the cube to her lips and bites off a corner. It oozes a viscous red fluid. “You’re looking for a universal implant. The technology doesn’t exist yet in your world. You’ve got one of the brightest minds working for you, but he’s stumped.”

  “Precisely.” The grape goes past Ryzaard’s teeth and rests on his tongue. When he bites down, the sweet taste of nectar explodes in his mouth followed by a refreshing sensation, like bursting up through the ocean’s surface to feel the warm air under a golden sun.

  For an instant, he is overcome with pleasure.

  A sly grin plays on Jhata’s lips as she watches him regain his composure so he can speak.

  Ryzaard inhales and lets the feeling move through his body. “I’ve had some experience with implants in the past and acquired a prototype some months ago from another source.”

  “Another source!” Jhata’s jaw drops. Her eyes move back and forth as if she’s viewing images suspended in the air. “You got it from the Lethonen?” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. “You’ve got more guts than I thought. What got into you to deal directly with them?”

  A sudden clarity surges through Ryzaard’s mind.

  “They helped me on prior occasions, promised me they had access to technology far beyond the limits of my own. Their views on the proper exercise of power to control others roughly coincide with mine.”

  Ryzaard can think faster and in more directions than ever before. Somehow, the fruit has augmented his mental abilities.

  “Of course they’re interested in your Stones. They are powerless and want to exercise power through you. They know the Stones can only be controlled by physical entities. You would be an ideal medium for them. That’s all they talk about. Give us the power. We need the power. A sick obsession.” Jhata takes one of the grapes and pops it into her mouth. “Take my advice and never trust them.” A crooked smile snakes across her lips. “When it comes to the Stones, never trust anyone.”

  Ryzaard speaks without hesitation. “The implant they provided was tested on a certain Stone Holder on my planet.”

  “Little John?” Jhata shifts in her chair. “I’ve heard of him.”

  “Correct.”

  Thoughts and ideas are coming so fast, Ryzaard finds it difficult to slow down and talk about only one at a time.

  “But that experiment failed, didn’t it?” Jhata leans back into her chair.

  “The implant proved unstable but was a success in the sense that it opened my eyes to certain mind control techniques. We still suffer from a technological gap that makes it impossible to learn how the implant works, how to improve it and, most importantly, how to mass-produce it.”

  Jhata leans forward and her fingers find another grape. “So you want me to design another implant for you, one that can be mass-produced, so you can complete the subjugation and conquest of your fellow human beings. Am I right?”

  “I need the implant.” Ryzaard tries to choose his words carefully, but the fruit has loosened his tongue. All inhibitions and restraint slip away. “I disagree with you about my purpose. It’s not subjugation. It’s the opposite. I’m going to free humankind from the chains of their subjugation. To finally bring the end to error and suffering.”

  “Call it whatever you want,” Jhata says. “You may fool others. You may even fool yourself. But you can’t fool me.” She leans back in her chair and stares out over the ocean. “When I was in your shoes, working on the conquest of my home planet, I had no help. I was twelve years old, and I did it on my own. Without implants.”

  “How?”

  “Military conquest. Pure and simple.” She drops a whole chocolate cube in her mouth, chews slowly as red nectar oozes from the corners of her lips. Then she chases it down with the hot tea. “It’s a much more direct approach. Have you considered it?”

  “Barbaric, and unnecessary.” Ryzaard speaks as freely as if he were talking to his dog and realizes this is exactly what Jhata intended. “I don’t know about your home planet. Sounds like your people were a subservient flock of sheep with very little in the way of backbone. Earth is different. It would be a messy fight, even with the Stones. The destruction of industry, commerce and technology would be horrendous. It’s not my intention to conquer. I prefer a more subtle approach.”

  Jhata’s fingers drop down to her belt of Stones. Plucking one like a ripe apricot, she brings it up to her face, staring into the unbroken perfection of its surface. Her eyes slowly drift up to Ryzaard.

  “Subservient flock of sheep?” Her fingers wander over the Stone as her tongue emerges to lick the red liquid off her lips. “I could turn your body inside out like an old sock and hang you off this balcony to dry. It would be too easy.” She opens her hand, dropping the Stone in mid-air. It floats back into place on her belt. “My people were a race of fierce warriors. The strong ruled over the weak. War was our way of life.”

  Ryzaard can no longer help himself. “In that case, please accept my condolences. Ignorance and backwardness are a tragic affliction of savages.” He eats another grape, appalled at his lack of tact, and looks up at her, forcing a smile.

  Her lips tremble with rage. “And you say you came here asking for help.” Her jaw grows hard. “Tell me why I should even consider it.”

  Reaching inside his shirt, Ryzaard’s fingers close around a small ball and bring it out. “Because of this.” Opening up, his palm reveals a three pieces of a green jewel floating in the center of the ball. “It’s yours if you’ll help us.”

  “I don’t want your garbage.”

  “This isn’t mine, and it’s not garbage.” He puts the pieces on the table. “It’s the implant made by the Lethonen, or what’s left of it. We tried to reverse engineer it, but failed. You’re more tech-savvy. Look at how you put me together.” He lifts his arms and legs. “It won’t take much for you to figure out how it works, improve it, teach us how to mass-produce it. It may even teach you something about the Lethonen.”

  Jhata’s eyes focus on the green fragments. “Looks interesting, but it’s not enough.”

  “I’m not finished,” Ryzaard says. “The real payoff comes later. Once you provide the implants, Earth becomes part of your domain, under my autonomous control, of course.”

  “Why should that entice me?”

  “We’re a unique race. One world with eleven Stones. We have much to offer someone of your caliber.”

  Jhata shakes her head in disgust, and then throws it back, laughing loudly. “You don’t seem to understand. I don’t need your permission to take Earth. It’s mine whenever I want it. That’s the meaning of power.”

  Raisi
ng his hand slightly off his knee, Ryzaard leans forward, an earnest look on his face. “We both appreciate the advantages of power. Clearly, you have the upper hand. You can destroy Earth. You can destroy me.” He leans back in his chair. “But you’re smart. Why destroy what can only benefit you?”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Rather than destroy Earth, make it a model colony.” Ryzaard arms expand out, emphasizing the point. “A place where the people are happy and productive, where they work for you, adore you, love you, worship you. A grand experiment. I can show you how. It’s what I was born to do.”

  Jhata nods. “I see. You’re proposing a partnership.”

  “No, not a partnership. More like a loose cooperative.” Ryzaard pushes his chair back, stands and walks to the railing of the balcony. His gaze drops down to the sea.

  “There’s just one problem,” Jhata says. “I only work alone.”

  Ryzaard breathes the air and tastes the mix of salt and gentle decay that defines oceans everywhere. “We both know that the Stones are exponentially more powerful when two people use them in concert. I can offer that to you. Take all the Stones you have and multiply their power by several magnitudes. But that’s not all.”

  “There’s more? You’re quite a salesman.”

  “When other worlds see what you and I have accomplished with Earth, they will flock to your rule, gladly accepting the implants and coming under your control.” He turns and grabs another grape off the table and drops it into his mouth. “There may be thousands of Stones in this universe. You will harvest them like sparrow eggs.” Ryzaard looks down at Jhata. “And there are an infinite number of universes. You know this. Your power will expand without limit. In time, it will be possible to eradicate the Lethonen, a race that you and I both loathe. After that, the greatest prize of all will be within your grasp.”

  “What is that?”

  “Destruction of the Allehonen.”

  Jhata stands alongside Ryzaard and gazes out at the ocean. “And I need you to accomplish all that?”

  “Yes,” Ryzaard says. “There are still other Stone Holders out there in the universe. Some may be more powerful than you. You want complete mastery, but you can’t do it alone. I can’t either. No one can. But together, working in cooperation, we have a shot.” He turns and scoops the clear ball with the implant pieces from the table. A thin line of green materializes around his body. “Has anyone else ever offered you so much power? Think about it. Brood upon it. I’ll be back.”

  Jhata says nothing.

  CHAPTER 28

  “OK, Yarah, time for some fun.”

  Matt sits on the end of the bed and holds the cloaking box on his open palm. His own Stone is in the other palm. Jessica rests quietly on her side behind him, her legs curled against his back.

  Yarah closes her book and looks up. “Are we going to talk about the Stones?”

  “You got it.” Matt motions for her to sit beside him. After she comes, he opens the cloaking box, tips it on its side and lets Yarah’s Stone fall out.

  She furrows her brow. “But won’t Ryzaard know we’re here?”

  “He already does.” Matt shrugs his shoulders. “If he comes, we’ll just jump away. But I don’t think he will. He’s waiting for Alexa to set up a meeting.” He hands Yarah’s Stone to her.

  Her eyes light up when it rests in her palm. “It’s been a long time.” Her gaze moves around the room. “I can feel all the other minds so much better with my Stone.”

  “I’m going to show you some cool things tonight. First, I need you to come inside my head so you can see what I’m doing.”

  “Got it.” Yarah closes her eyes. “I’m going in.”

  “OK, good. Now stay with me. I want you to see what I’m seeing.” Matt drops the cloaking box on the bed and closes his own eyes. With a few deep breathes, his deepens his connection to the Stone. “Here we go.” In the universe of his closed eyes, the Stone rises up like a huge, glowing claw.”

  “I see it,” Yarah says. “So beautiful.”

  “It is, but I’m going to show you another view of it, even more beautiful. Watch carefully how I do it. I want you to do it with your own Stone.”

  “Ready,” Yarah says.

  Matt senses the excitement in her voice. “Here goes.” Relaxing into a place of quiet, Matt drops down closer to the Stone and waits for the lines to appear. For more than a minute, he slowly inhales and exhales, letting his breath be the vehicle for his consciousness. Faint filaments of light take shape in the darkness around the Stone.

  “I see it.” Yarah’s voice can’t hide her delight. “All around the Stone. A ring of millions of threads of light, like lace.”

  “That’s right,” Matt says. “The threads of light are wrapped around it. Nothing gets out. That means the Stone is invisible to Ryzaard and everyone else. I don’t need to keep it in the cloaking box. That’s what I want you to do.”

  Yarah’s voice echoes in Matt’s mind. “Show me how to move the lines.”

  “The hardest part is just finding them. After that, it’s just a matter of thinking about it. Watch this. Try to feel it. I’ll go slow.”

  Matt focuses on the tightly bound filaments of light, going into them even closer so that each line is like a ribbon in front of his eyes. He picks one out and stares at it until his mind comprehends it, like a math problem that suddenly becomes clear. Then he wills the line to move.

  And it does.

  “OK, now your turn,” Matt says. “See if you can move the line.”

  “On your Stone?”

  “That’s right. Give it a try.”

  Yarah’s voice trembles. “But you’ll have to let me take over your mind. I’ll be in complete control, and you won’t be able to do anything. It might hurt you.”

  “Maybe. Let’s find out.” Matt clears his mind. “I wouldn’t let anyone else do this. I trust you.”

  “OK,” Yarah says. “Let me know if I should stop.”

  Matt opens his mind to her and waits.

  Seconds later, an uneven organic sphere drops down from the darkness above him. A low pink glow burns within. As Matt watches with a wary eye, it moves closer. A seam opens up in its side. Without warning, it lunges at Matt. The seam turns into a gaping hole. Matt flinches, but holds still as the hole engulfs his head and body, swallowing him whole. The shining Stone vanishes, and his world is plunged into darkness.

  The blackness presses upon him as if it were exactly molded to the outline of his body. Open space melts away. He tries to push against it or move, but his muscles refuse to respond. It is complete sensory deprivation. He is blind, paralyzed and deaf.

  In the claustrophobic space, he opens his mouth to scream. But there’s no space to scream into. All sense of time falls away, leaving utter helplessness in its wake.

  Matt can’t take it anymore.

  Yarah, stop, he thinks.

  The darkness lifts, like a glove pulled off a hand. Matt sees the Stone again, its light shining in the darkness.

  “Did it!” The excited voice of Yarah rings inside Matt’s head like a massive bell in a small room. “I moved threads of light on the Stone. Thousands of them. Bent them around into funny shapes. It’s easy.” Yarah giggles and then stops. “I felt so powerful, like I could do anything. Did I hurt you?”

  The shock of his descent into darkness lingers in Matt’s memory. “Doing fine. Now I know what it’s like to be completely assimilated.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’ll tell you later,” Matt says. “For now, I want you to try it on your own Stone. Can you stay connected to me while you try it so I can help you?”

  “I think so.” Yarah takes a deep breath. “I’m pulling out, but I’ll leave the door open.”

  Matt has the distinct sensation of sitting in an empty room as a shadow slips by. The only light he can see is the shape of his own Stone.

  “Here goes.” Yarah’s eyelids drop down. “I see my Stone. Like yours.”
>
  Matt hears her faint voice like someone speaking through the wall in another room.

  “Go in close so you can see its surface.” He senses her movement. “Think about the strands of light until you see them coming off your Stone.”

  “I don’t see them.”

  “Be patient. Don’t try too hard. It takes time.”

  Sensing her frustration, Matt tries to soothe her. “Breathe slowly. Look along the edges. Relax. It will come.”

  “What will it look like?”

  “Delicate lines popping up from the surface, like a spider’s web.”

  “I’m staring at it, but I can’t . . .”

  After more than a minute, Matt senses a shift in Yarah’s emotions. “Do you see it now?”

  “So beautiful.” Yarah says. “Like angel hairs.”

  “That’s right.” Matt stares down at the filaments of light around his own Stone. “Now listen carefully. You have complete control over the angel hairs. They will move wherever you want them to. Think about them waving back and forth, like long grass in the wind.”

  “It’s working,” Yarah says. “I can move them.”

  “OK. Good.” Matt speaks slowly and carefully. “When the lines of light are pointing away from the Stone, other Stone Holders can see it. They know where you are.”

  “Like Ryzaard?”

  “Exactly. He has a way to detect those hairs of light if they’re poking out. So what do you think we should do?” Matt is hoping Yarah will discover the answer on her own.

  “Wrap them around and around, so they don’t point out. Make it tight, like a shell, around the Stone.”

  “You’ve got it,” Matt says. “Now try it. If you concentrate on it, the strands of light stay where you put them. Then you won’t need to use the cloaking box.”

  He can sense her already following his directions, working the light.

  “It’s hard,” she says.

  “Keep practicing. Let me know when you have it.” Matt opens his eyes and turns around to look at Jessica sleeping on the bed.

  But she’s gone.