by Peter Telep
“Yeah. So, you check the temple?”
“We did. But don’t worry. You sleep, heal up, and we’ll see if you can roll in the morning. And if you can’t, we’re still good to go. We got Cypress, and she tells me she’ll get us in those labs with that immortal.”
“What about everyone else? Where’s Grace?” I ask.
Tommy exchanges a look with Meeka.
“What’s wrong?” I demand. “Come on. Tell me.”
I glance around the shelter. No one will look at me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Is she dead?” I scream.
“There’s no such thing as death.”
Tommy didn’t say that.
Neither did Keane.
But the answer came from a man.
Maybe not a man.
Maybe the lowest form of bacteria in the universe.
I’m still in my t-shirt and boxers, but I’ve been torn out of the shelter and dumped onto a polished black floor speckled with millions of reflections.
Aw, man, I hate this place.
Towering walls on either side glimmer and fluctuate with paisley patterns. The walls sweep up a thousand feet to the arched ceiling, where that enormous wreath rotates slowly as multicolored bolts of lightning slash through its center.
The Armadis.
All of those Lords and Ladies of Galleon who pushed their essences into their personas have joined together and hum a steady note that echoes back on itself, filling the room with vibrations that tingle my skin.
Yes, this wreath of thousands might look heavenly, but I know what it really is. Or do I?
Julie said the Armadis is not what it seems…
Solomon shoves his pack of cigarettes in my face. “Have one. They help ease the stress.”
“Smoking’s bad for your health.”
“You know what’s bad for your health? Pissing them off.” He lifts a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to his masters. “Team Galleon’s getting ready to kick some ass. Team Doc? Well, sorry, you’ve just been eliminated.”
I try to stand, but I’m still too weak. “This is not a game. And it’s definitely not over.”
He laughs so hard that he coughs. “Oh, I needed that. So you forgot we have the queen robe? Or were you on your phone when we took it?”
“Shut up,” I reply, my fingers digging into the floor. “I saw you take it. And I watched you kill Joshua and my father and grandmother.”
“Oh, come on now, Doc, stay on topic. Now I lost my train of thought. Damn it. What was I saying? Oh, yes, we’ll pick up a few people—did I say people? I meant parts on Flora, and then we’ll collect billions more on Earth.” He raises his brows. “And wait till you see the ship. I have some ideas for a whole new design. It’s going to be amazing. It’s going to make us all feel so young again.”
“You sound like a guy having a mid-life crisis.”
Solomon lifts the pack of cigarettes, draws the tall one into his lips, and then flips open his Zippo. After taking his first greedy drag, he exhales and answers, “Age is just a number, right?”
I blink, and now he’s a little shorter and with much longer, thicker hair. He’s still wearing his armor, but his wrinkles are gone, his skin much smoother. He’s sixteen again, looking more like a rebel punk with the cigarette dangling from his lips. “See?” He reverts to his older self.
“Yeah, I see. It’s not a midlife crisis. It’s worse.”
He chuckles. “Docherty, Docherty, Docherty, so here we are again, just like old pals, and now the time’s come for you to finally accept the truth.”
“Join you or die,” I say in disgust.
His face twists into an exaggerated frown. “Oh, I wouldn’t make it sound so melodramatic but basically? Yes. However, I’ll make you feel better about joining us. Know how? By telling you why you can never destroy the armadis.”
I glare even harder as he continues:
“In the past, becoming a lord, a lady, or a mask required a conscious decision to push your essence into your persona. That’s what I did. I made the choice.”
“And that’s why you keep dragging me back here like you’re trying to sell me a used car.”
“Not anymore, Doc. Things have changed.”
“Here come the lies…”
“When have I ever lied?”
My mouth falls open. “Are you serious? Your entire life is a lie. Everything!”
He considers that and shrugs. “Maybe you’re right. I can take a little constructive criticism. But at this point, can you ask yourself a simple question? What do you think we’re doing up here? Floatin’ around, watching YouTube?”
“Why don’t you just float off?”
He grins and wags a finger at me, his eyes brightening. “I like that… a little wordplay, but listen to me, Doc. We’ve been real busy doing major research, digging deeper, becoming more powerful. Why? So we can expand this Armadis into the greatest and most beautiful life form that’s ever existed.”
“I’m so happy for you. You’re trying make yourself feel better about your terrible mistake. You keep up the good work. Me? I’m gonna wait for something better.”
Solomon rolls his eyes. “And there it is again! The sense of entitlement… the level of disrespect… the bravado that comes from parents who told you what a sweet, magical boy you were for your entire life. It’s just staggering!” He tosses his hands in the air. “Don’t you get it?”
“Get what?”
“I’m trying to explain as compassionately as I can what’s happened to your stepmother… so it’s not a total shock.”
A flash of anger sends me fighting to stand, but once more I collapse on my butt. “What’re you talking about?”
“Think about it, bro. Would we go through all the trouble of giving Grace and Tommy wreaths if we didn’t have a way to control them?”
“But you don’t control them.”
“Come on, Doc, we got this thing all figured out.”
Solomon takes another hungry drag on his cigarette, and then shifts aside to reveal Grace—
Standing there in a suit of glowing white armor.
She glances down at herself, and then faces me, trembling and ashamed.
For just a second I doubt what I’m seeing. This is one of Solomon’s minions pretending to be Grace.
But then I remember how Tommy and the others reacted when I asked about her.
I send Grace an invitation to connect. Someone’s blocking it, but I do sense that it’s her. Really her.
And there’s something else:
Yes, I’m being blocked from jumping by the Armadis, but someone is fighting to get close, maybe Julie.
“Doc, please, look at me,” Grace says.
I open my eyes but stare at her boots. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to.”
“It’s still me,” she says.
Finally, I lift my gaze and begin to lose my breath.
I don’t get it. My hippie stepmother who taught me all about being a “free spirit” chose to become a slave. “Why did you do this?” I ask. “Why?”
“Were you not listening?” Solomon asks. “And if it makes you feel better, this wasn’t her decision.”
I hold back a gasp. “You forced her to change?”
“More like pointed her in the right direction,” he answers. “You tell him, my dear.”
Grace tightens her lips. “I was with Rific, and people were shooting at us. And then I couldn’t help it. I just projected my persona, but it wouldn’t come back. It kept calling me until it hurt so badly that I had to go… and when I jumped, there was all this heat and a light, and I wound up here.”
“So you tricked her into becoming a mask,” I tell Solomon.
“No, she followed her natural instincts,” he answers. “And so will everyone else. We’ll let some become masks. Others we’ll catch before they convert. We’ll preserve them in their bodies so we can use their new personas to rebuild our ship.”
My eyes bur
n. I have no reply, nothing.
“Doc, you forced me into this. And now I’ll take them out, one by one. Your old buddy Tommy is next… and then Keane and Steffanie and that crazy freak you picked up on Halsparr. I’ll save Meeka for last, just to turn the knife a little more, you know? Don’t believe me? Check this out.” He waves his hand—
And one by one, seven knights shimmer up from the floor. One man steps forward from the line, and I realize with a shiver that it’s Zach Smith, our doctor.
“I’m sorry, Doc. Wasn’t much we could do. I thought they wanted the engine, but they grabbed us, too, even these guys who work for Tommy. They cut us open…”
“Aw, man, don’t worry. We’ll get you out of here.”
“I’m not sure you can. They’re in our heads now, showing us all this stuff, trying to make us believe that we’ll be happy here—”
“All right,” Solomon says, cutting off Zach. “You boys have been off your leash long enough.” With an exaggerated wave of his hand, Solomon dismisses the group. Zach and the rest of the knights double over in pain and vanish.
I shake my head and glare at Solomon. “You keep giving me more reasons to kill you.”
“I’ll take that as compliment.”
“You would.”
He snorts. “So, Docherty, my man, you’ve seen that your stepmother is one of us and can never go back. And you’ve witnessed the incredible salvation we’re bringing to Earth.”
“Salvation? More like slavery.”
“Oh, those are your definitions and issues to resolve, not ours. So… is there any part of our conversation that you find unclear or still doubt?”
There is one part.
But I’ll never tell him.
And it has to do with Tommy…
I curse at Solomon with my eyes.
“Doc, you’ll always have a certain measure of freewill. The more you adapt, the more you get. Think of it as leveling up, just like one of your games. And it’s way cooler than living in a pathetic body, with all its aches and pains and diseases…”
“So you’re just here to convert all the meatbags.” I face my mother. “Find Julie. She’ll help.”
“I can’t, Doc. If I try to resist, there’s just pain.” Her face creases in agony as she staggers backward, trips, and then screams before vanishing into the floor.
I call after her. My voice echoes uselessly away.
And then I’m yanked to my feet by Solomon. “You’ve been marked as a Lord of Galleon.” He glances up to the Armadis, rotating faster like a weird doomsday clock. “See them, Doc? They’re your higher calling.”
I bust out laughing, partly because he looks and sounds so insane, standing here, smoking a cigarette and trying to sell me on this crap—
And partly because I’m so overtired and so stressed out that I can’t help myself.
“You think this is funny?” he yells.
I like him better when he’s freaking out. It’s even easier to hate him. “I think it’s hilarious,” I answer, showing him my teeth. “Because you’re so weak. I’m right here. Torture me. Force me to join you.”
Solomon’s ready to explode. I love it.
“What’s wrong, my man?” I ask. “Maybe I still have Julie on my side, huh?”
Julie flashes into the hall, and Solomon seizes her by the throat with one hand and lifts her from the ground.
She squirms and kicks while trying to break his grip on her neck. “I’ll kill my own daughter if I have to!” he cries.
“Then kill her,” I say coldly.
“You don’t mean that!”
“Nah, I guess you’re right,” I say through an exaggerated sigh. “’Cause that’s not even her. You’d never kill her just to recruit me. She’s your weakness—”
“And yours,” he says, tossing “Julie” over his shoulder like she’s garbage.
The body transforms into an unfamiliar girl before shimmering into the floor.
He takes a step forward but stops, his eyes widening on something over my shoulder. I whirl—
Expecting to find the real Julie coming to my rescue. She’s the only way my body is getting back down to Flora.
But I’m wrong.
Three gigantic masks hover behind me, and by the time I take my next breath, all three blast Solomon with bolts of buzzing energy that catapult him across the cathedral.
At the same time, a fourth mask blurs into view, just above. Twin beams shoot from its eyes and burn a circle in the floor around me.
The floor gives way—
And I fall through a white-hot tube glowing and pulsating like lava. A handful of seconds later, the air roars as I’m exhaled out of the ship…
And into space.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
If you’re like me, you hate it when your friends launch a rescue plan, don’t tell you about it, and then you wind up in the cold vacuum of space, not knowing if you’ll be rescued—because there’s always the chance that their plan fell apart at the last second.
As I plunge toward Flora and her two moons, figuring yep, it’s over—
A glimmer of hope comes from Keane.
He’s using our blood type as laurels and shared ancestry to make a telepathic connection.
“’Sup, Bro?” he asks casually.
“Just floating around, waiting to die.”
“That’s cool.”
“Not cool. You coming or what?”
“Just pinpointing your location and waiting for you to get low enough. Space is kinda big, and you’re just this—
“Would you shut up and get me?” I ask.
I’m about to vomit and freeze to death simultaneously when Meeka, Steffanie, and Keane appear.
They’ve jumped in their personas and link into a bubble that seals me inside. The bubble inhales and exhales, and my body grows warmer. Without thinking, I steal a breath, and yes, there’s air.
Playing Personify requires incredible concentration from all three members creating the bubble. If any one of them breaks form, the bubble tears apart.
And that’s what scares the hell out of me as we soar down, through the clouds—
And back into the darkness.
For a few seconds, the bubble’s tossed around by heavy rain. I jam my bare feet and palms into the walls to brace myself.
“Almost there,” Keane assures me.
“How did you pull this off?” I ask.
“Like two seconds after you vanished, Julie showed up. She said she couldn’t get into the cathedral but had friends who could. She had a plan to get you back.”
“Hell, yeah, then she’s still fighting. Last time I saw her, she said it was too late.”
“I wanted to tell her what we’re doing, but she told me not to,” Keane says. “Operational security.”
“Does she think she can break free from the Armadis?”
“I don’t know. All I know is, without her, you’d still be up there with your buddy.”
“Yeah, man, some are stronger than others. Maybe it has to do with the blood type. Bottom line is we need to get more of Julie’s help.”
Just then, Meeka, Steffanie, and Keane jump together, and we arrive just outside the shelter in Verbena.
The bubble evaporates, and I’m left standing there in my boxers in the pouring rain.
Meeka comes running out with a blanket, and we hurry back inside.
* * *
Five minutes later, after changing into some dry clothes, I share the terrible news about Grace, Zach, and the rest of Tommy’s men.
When I’m done, Tommy delivers his own situation report, and at least it’s a little more hopeful: Rific is still across the street and guarding the engine with Joshua’s caravan and the rest of Hedera’s people.
Rific saw Grace jump away. After that, he and the others drove off the despers, but he’s betting they’ll be back.
“Guys, I’m worried,” I say. “If Solomon can come and grab me or any of us at any time, then—”
“No worries now,” Meeka says. “He can’t take you again. He can’t take any of us. If he wants to tell us something, he has to come down here and play in our backyard.”
“Are you serious?” I ask. “What did you do?”
“It was Julie’s idea,” Keane says. “Before we grabbed you, we went up to the healing wreath. Millions of personas there, right? Well, we recruited them. Instead of focusing all their energy back on the planet, they’re blocking the Armadis, and for now it’s working.”
“Yeah, for now,” I tell him. “But the masks could launch an attack on the wreath. Plus, they’ve got that queen robe, and once they start rebuilding the ship…”
“So as always, there’s no time to waste,” Tommy says. “But son, tell me, are you okay?”
“I feel like I never wanna jump again. Is that weird?”
“No,” Keane says. “That’s just your wreath talking to you, saying, dude, let me rest.”
I grin and face Tommy. “Are you okay?”
He shrugs. “Something’s going on, but I don’t know what. Like a tug o’ war inside.”
“I think I know what that is,” I tell him. Everyone leans in closer. “That wreath they put in you… When you project your persona, a mask might come and capture you and make you part of the ship. If that doesn’t happen, then you’ll feel this urge to push yourself into your persona, and you can’t resist. If you do that, you become a mask. That’s what happened to Grace. She couldn’t help it. And they did the same thing to Zach and your team.”
“But not me?” Tommy asks.
“There’s something different with you.”
He frowns. “I dunno. But I can feel what you’re talking about. I’m just itching to push into that persona again, just itching real hard.”
“When that happens, you think about Val, and project her immortal instead,” I tell him.
“Yeah?” he asks.
“She could be the reason why you’re not a mask, at least not yet. I think carrying her—whether you knew it or not—saved you.”
Keane and the girls look surprised, and even Cypress is following along with intense curiosity.
“Well, imagine that,” Tommy says, his gaze brightening. “But son, that urge is getting stronger.”
