by Jacob Whaler
Matt turns to face Yarah. “Can you talk to her, little one? I think I can maintain the protective bubble on my own.”
“I’ll try.” Yarah lets her arms drop to her side and walks closer to the old woman with her palms together in front of her chest. She reaches out and takes the old woman’s hands, and then closes her eyes.
Matt can tell from the rapid eye movement under the lids that Yarah is already inside the old woman’s mind.
A sudden flash lights up the top of the plateau next to Jhata’s cathedral. A white-hot beam shoots directly down at them and slams into the top of the green dome. The ground trembles. A shower of sparks erupts. Veins of supercharged ions crawl over the surface of the dome and split into ever smaller fingers of energy. They dissipate into the dust.
A tingle buzzes through Matt’s spine.
Yarah and the old woman are sitting on the ground, holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes.
“Will they be able to break through your protective bubble? They have a lot more Stones that you and Yarah.” Jessica reaches down and picks up Matt’s pulse rifle.
“I’d say no, based on what I’ve seen so far. Our Stones seem to want to protect us.” Matt scans the crowd of kneeling and quivering Chimpotee. “These people have lived on this world with Jhata. I’m sure they’ve seen her do terrible things. No wonder they’re so scared. Any idea why they tried to kill you?”
“Tried?” Jessica laughs. “I’d say they did a pretty good job of it.” She shoulders the pulse rifle. “But no idea why they wanted to kill us. Maybe Yarah can find out.”
At the mention of her name, Yarah stands and walks closer to Matt and Jessica. The old woman follows her.
“What did you find out?” Matt says.
“You already know her name.” Yarah looks behind her at the old woman. “She says she met you after she died, and you brought her back.”
Matt nods. “Did you find out where the Chimpotee came from?”
Yarah stares down. “I saw memories of another world, lush and green. They were farmers and hunters, living in mud houses. Jhata came to their world many years ago. Ever since then, she’s come and taken whole villages back with her. They just disappear overnight, leaving huge brown pits in the ground where the villages once stood.” Yarah glances behind her back up at the light shining like a jewel on top of the cliff. “Ryzaard, this time.”
A point of blue light hangs in the darkness above the cathedral. It swells in size and comes closer in a long arc that ends in another earthquake and shower of sparks. They all go tumbling to the ground. A dimple appears on the surface of the green dome at the point of impact and remains for several seconds until it slowly fades from view.
“So Jhata has visited their world at random times, ripping away entire villages at will.” Matt exchanges a glance with Jessica. “Does that about sum it up?”
Yarah’s head slowly goes up and down. “She’s a monster, even worse than I thought. She brings the people here, keeps them like pets for a while, and then just wipes them out when she’s tired of playing with them and starts over.”
“Any idea where their home planet is?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Yarah starts to jump up and down with excitement. “Saatuk asked if we could take their whole village back to their home. I told her we’d love to.”
“I wish it was that easy,” Matt says. “But remember. Jhata knows where their world is. She can jump there whenever she wants. If we just take their village back, what do you think she’ll do?”
Yarah kneels down on the ground. Her eyes suddenly grew large and she looks up. “She’s going to destroy their whole world, all the people, everything.”
“I think that’s a foregone conclusion,” Matt says. “We’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest. There’s really only one alternative.”
Jessica nods. “I’m afraid that’s right. You have to kill Jhata to protect these innocent people.”
“And billions more like them.” Matt looks down at the lone Stone in his hand. “There must be a way.”
“It’s impossible,” Yarah says. “She’s too strong. Too smart.”
“Perhaps,” Matt says. “She’s lived hundreds of lifetimes and learned a lot of tricks.” His gaze drifts up into the sky at a roiling cloud of multicolored particles. It slowly floats above them.
The Chimpotee begin to chant in desperation.
The old woman mumbles to Yarah.
She turns to Matt. “They’ve never seen anything like this. They’re pleading for you to take them away from this evil place.”
“I have a better idea.” Matt reaches for Jessica’s hand. “Come on, Yarah. Let’s go.”
“Where?” Yarah says.
He turns to Alexa, standing in the middle of the kneeling masses with the small pulse rifle resting in her hand. “Keep watch over them. We’ll be back.”
Alexa looks up at the cathedral on the plateau and nods. “Understood. Time to go on offense. Hit them where they least expect it.”
CHAPTER 63
“Trust?” Ryzaard drops his Stones back into the necklace on his chest. “What kind of trust?”
Jhata begins walking across the courtyard to the closed doors of the cathedral. “The only kind that matters.”
He walks to her side. “As a way to boost the power of the Stones?”
“Of course,” she says. “If I’m not mistaken, you tried something like it once before, with the man called Little John.”
“You’re talking about merging the Stones, one of us submitting to the other.”
“Yes,” Jhata says. “But to unlock the full potential of the Stones, it has to be voluntary, not forced like what you tried with Little John.”
Ryzaard’s right hand brushes across his thigh and feels the ripple of the muscles rising to the surface with each step. “Do you really think that will yield enough of an increase in power to kill the boy?
“It might.” Her thin figure moves ahead to the large wooden doors. She raises her palm and the doors swing open. “Of course, I have no direct experience. I’ve only heard that it’s been done before, by others, with spectacular results.”
“By who?” Ryzaard says.
Jhata laughs. “Can’t you guess?” She walks through the doors and admires the giant jade columns that glow in the dark from an internal light source. “The ones always pushing for unity and love.”
“The Allehonen?” Ryzaard follows her into the cathedral. At the same time, his hands come together with the index fingers pointing up, like a church steeple. “Of course. It makes sense. They get their power from bringing their Stones together.”
“Yes, becoming One, as they call it.” Jhata stops and turns to face Ryzaard. “Personally, I think it’s a terrible price to pay for power. Complete submission of the individual. A total loss of personal identity. What is the point of having power if not to be the only One that stands above all others? The self that controls all else.”
“Agreed,” Ryzaard says.
“Nevertheless, it is a peculiar characteristic of the Stones. The first one gives you enormous power. The second one gives you a three or four-fold increase in power and fills you with an insatiable appetite for more. So you start looking for more of them, because more is always better.” Her eyes drift up to his chest. Delicate porcelain fingers stretch out and brush across the seven Stones that float there. “But as you succeed in getting more and more, something happens. The increase in power from each additional Stone becomes less and less. I’m sure you’ve noticed this already.”
“Yes, it’s called diminishing returns.” Ryzaard touches her hand with his fingers. “You’re suggesting that one of us submit control of our Stones to the other for mutual profit. Just like the Allehonen?”
Jhata laughs and turns away. “Definitely not like the Allehonen. Our union will be temporary.” She comes to a stop in front of one of the columns. It casts a green tint on her face. “Only as long as it takes to kill
the boy and his friends.”
“I see,” Ryzaard says. “And that’s where the trust comes in.” He walks a short distance to another column and runs his palm along its glass-smooth surface. “The one who submits to the other has to trust that the other will keep the arrangement temporary and give back the Stones.”
Jhata puts the palms of her hands behind her back against the pillar. “Yes. If, in fact, as legend suggests, a merging of the Stones results in a great boost in the power of the one in control, there will be great temptation to make the arrangement permanent. We have to trust each other that such a result would never happen.”
“And who are you suggesting be the one in control?”
The thin line of eyebrows rises on Jhata’s forehead. She inhales a lungful of the salty air and lets it out slowly. “The one who has the least to gain by keeping control.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“I believe I did.” She pushes off the jade column. Her soft slippers brush quietly against the floor as she makes her way to the door at the other end.
Ryzaard follows her onto the balcony overlooking the dark sea. “You think I should submit to you because you have the least to gain?” He glances down at a couple of chairs and a table furnished with drinks.
Jhata puts her hands on the rail and leans forward. “Isn’t it obvious.”
“No.”
“Then let me enlighten you.” Jhata turns her lithe figure and keeps her hands on the rail behind her back. “You came here half dead, and I saved you. I rebuilt you into what you are. I’ve designed the implants for you. I’ve got more Stones and more worlds than you. Much more to lose. That puts me in the senior position, an arrangement that you’ve already agreed to. You are my vassal. I don’t need the additional power of your Stones to move forward. I’m happy to stay as I am. For all those reasons, it makes no sense for me to be the one that submits to you.”
Ryzaard approaches the rail and looks down. “Yet your power will increase exponentially if I make the sacrifice. What assurance do I have that you will walk away from that and release my Stones?”
“It comes back to trust.” Jhata shrugs her shoulders. “But if you feel that’s too much to ask, I’ll happily back off. Matt and his friends will continue to be your problem on your world. You can let him consume your resources and stand in your way. The choice is yours.”
Waiting in the silence, Ryzaard stares down.
Jhata is right. He can keep on fighting Matt or submit to a one-time humiliation and let Jhata kill him, once and for all. She has more to gain in the future by releasing his Stones when the deed is done.
“Time is short,” Jhata says. “Let’s get this over with and move on.”
“Agreed,” Ryzaard says. “On one condition.”
Jhata takes a step forward. “There can be no conditions regarding the Stones. It has to be unconditional surrender. It will not work in any other way.”
“I’ll let you take over my Stones, but tell me how it’s done.” Ryzaard moves back from the railing and sits in a chair. “Just so there’s no surprises. I need to understand what you’re going to do.”
“Fair enough.” Jhata drops in a chair opposite Ryzaard, one leg crossing over the other. “This is how it works. You simply open your mind to me. Completely. You have to want to submit your will to mine. If you hold back or resist, I won’t be able to get down to the level required to take over your Stones.”
“And then what?”
“And then I’ll project myself into your mind. I’ve done it millions of times before. When my mind is inside yours, I perceive it as standing on an open plain.” She reaches out and takes a drink in her hands. “That’s the neutral part of your mind. Then, if you’ve submitted your will completely to mine, I’ll be able to drop down several levels until I enter a state where I can see through your eyes. At that point, our minds are one.” The glass comes up to her lips. “I simply reach out and take your seven Stones and use them as my own. There should be a massive boost in power.”
“What about me?” Ryzaard lifts a glass from the table. “What will I feel?”
Jhata takes a long drink, nearly draining it. “I’m not sure, since I’ve not allowed it to be done to me before.” She puts the glass down. “You may feel nothing. You may feel a loss of self. My guess is that it won’t be comfortable. But it will be short. Trust me.”
Ryzaard puts the drink to his lips and tastes the sweet nectar. He drains it in a few gulps and throws the glass over the railing.
“Let me think—”
Before Ryzaard can finish, the entire cathedral lights up behind them. They both turn to look and see it implode. The heavy jade columns liquefy, the stained-glass windows shatter and the stone walls and roof break into tiny fragments. In a few seconds, it all collapses into a pile of rubble.
Before they can say anything, the pile blows apart in a brilliant flash of yellow. Thin films of protective energy jump around them as the fragments blow by like a supernova.
Jhata and Ryzaard stare at the spot that was the middle of the cathedral floor.
Matt and Yarah stand there with glowing Stones in hand. Jessica points her pulse rifle at Jhata’s chest and pumps it.
A transparent golden bubble drops down around all three of them.
CHAPTER 64
“I’m back.” Jessica smiles.
With a flick of her thumb, she switches her pulse rifle to automatic mode, lowers the tip of the barrel parallel to the ground and rips off a burst of shots at Jhata. The projectiles break against the silky veneer of her red kimono and disintegrate into black dust.
Turning, Jessica fires at Ryzaard.
A membrane of clear armor floods his skin an instant before the bullets splash across his chest. Still sitting, he laughs and opens his arms wide, inviting more shots. Jessica clenches her jaw and lets the rifle fire until the barrel is red hot.
Jhata is the first to jump out of her seat. In a blur, she pulls two Stones out of her belt, drops to her knees and begins firing tightly bound bursts of purple. They shoot out from the tips of her Stones and quickly expand into boiling masses of blue that flash across the divide between her and Matt.
The protective bubble in front of Matt’s face bends inward as the blue energy breaks against its surface.
Jhata stands. “You may be able to protect yourself, but what about your friends? Are you willing to sacrifice them?” She drops into a crouch again and fires a thin white thread of lightning. It punctures the protective shell and barely licks Yarah’s leg. The little girl’s screams of agony pierce the night air. As Yarah drops to the ground, the glow of her Stone fades. The bubble enveloping Matt and the others flickers for an instant like a faulty neon sign about to go out.
Another thread of light shoots out from Jhata’s Stone. She walks closer and fires from a standing position. Jagged shards of plasma bury themselves in Yarah’s skin. The little girl screams as smoke rises from black splotches on her legs and back. The stench of burning flesh fills Matt’s nostrils.
“Matt?” Fear flashes in Jessica’s eyes as Jhata walks closer.
Jhata is five meters away. Her eyes go to the little girl writhing in agony on the ground. “You were a prodigy. A natural. We could have done such great things together, you and I.”
“Now!” Yarah shrieks.
Jessica jumps behind Matt. His gaze drops down, and he instantly stands on the endless plain of Yarah’s mind. The ground shakes as mountains burst out of bare dirt and black storm clouds gather on the horizon. He concentrates on dropping deeper into the Core of her mind so he can join her Stone to his.
He isn’t ready for the onslaught of pain. When it slams into him, he staggers to his knees and struggles to keep his grip on Yarah’s mind. A tide of instinct pours over and through him and threatens to pull him out, away from danger, away from the ripping agony of Yarah’s pain.
Then he sees Yarah’s Stone. At the same instant, he feels her consciousness slipping a
way, like a blaring siren rushing past. As he reaches for her Stone, a wind tunnel of emotion engulfs him. He holds on and pushes through it until his fingers make contact and close around it like a steel trap.
Raw power surges through him, immense, inexhaustible, limitless. Instantly back in his own body, his eyes snap open and focus on Jhata.
The white threads of death shooting from her Stone break against the protective bubble and disintegrate into a thousand tiny explosions. Jhata tries again and again, but the shell around Matt, Jessica and Yarah is sealed tight.
Then Matt walks forward through the shell, out into the open.
Jhata smiles. “Such a brave young man.”
“Ready to die?” Ryzaard moves to her side and stares at Matt.
As if in unison, bars of pure green plasma shoot from all their Stones at Matt. A clear membrane hugs his body. The green plasma explodes against the surface of his skin without a scratch or mark. Sparks sizzle and jump back at them from the point of contact.
Ryzaard and Jhata both stumble backward, eyes wide.
Without a word, Matt looks at the Stone in his hand, glowing like a diamond cut from the sun. Slowly, he points it at Jhata. A drop of white light extrudes from its tip and hangs suspended in the air. His gaze travels up from Jhata’s feet to her eyes. Opening the palm of his hand, he catches the drop as it falls. His hand glows the same color as his Stone.
Jhata’s eye twitches.
The world blurs around Matt. He lunges.
Finding Jhata’s delicate thin neck, his fingers wrap around it. With on hand, he lifts her up until her feet slip from the ground.
She flails helplessly in his grip. Lightning bursts from the Stones on her waist and break harmlessly against Matt’s face and chest. His fingers squeeze tighter around her throat.
“You leave me no choice,” Matt says. “It all ends here.”
Twisting, Jhata’s eyes find Ryzaard, desperation in her voice. “Give me your Stones! Trust me!”
Eyebrows rise on Ryzaard’s forehead. He shakes his head and steps away.
