“It’s the Committee, isn’t it?” Ciara asked.
“Yes,” Jane said as she stepped forward, her face stoic, though it concealed a look of pure vitriol. She was incensed at the mere thought that she would be interrupted yet again by these people. She stopped a few feet in front of them and stood tall, hands held at her sides, fists clenched.
“Here we go,” Morris said, folding his arms and pursing his lips into a thin, wry smile.
Jane reached up a hand toward the drone, outstretching her palm. Her power connected with it, and in response, the drone swayed slightly, as though disturbed by a light gust of wind. Except this was not the kind of device that seemed as though it could be disturbed by air currents. It was eight feet in width, and it appeared to be constructed of heavy metals, unlike the many other drones that flew around the upper floors of the tallest buildings of New York City. It appeared quite heavy, and its engines looked as though they could take it vast distances.
Despite this, against Jane’s power, it stood no chance. As she clenched her fist, it rocked to the left dramatically, almost crashing into the side of the building on that side of the street. Its engines whirred as it struggled against Jane’s iron grip, but despite the increasing sound of the revving motors—a sound that filled the streets around them and caused more people to scatter away from the intersection—it remained firmly fixed in one spot.
Jane glanced behind her casually. Upon seeing the space behind her was clear, she looked back toward the drone. She hesitated for a moment, then stared into whatever devices were monitoring what she was doing. Now the drone’s systems were already buckling under the weight of her will. One of the engines reached its limit and exploded. That side of the craft was immediately engulfed in a ball of flame. Then a small shower of sparks blew out from the upper side and a piece of black metal split from the top, ricocheting against the concrete of a nearby building with a clank. As people fled the scene, several of them screamed in shock. The flames had mostly cleared, and billows of smoke began pouring from the main unit, first flowing upward, then forming a stream and moving with the wind that flowed south.
Jane drew her clenched fist toward the left, and the drone obligingly followed its direction. They watched, Morris smiling, as it followed the pull of Jane’s power, moving downward slowly across the intersection from a position of ten floors off the surface. Then Jane pulled her fist down rapidly, turning with it as she did, directing the drone toward the empty space behind them. It flew across the street, spinning—its trajectory now in shambles, heading straight for the ground. The engines whirred loudly, fighting to regain control, and the billowing smoke that poured from the top increased so that a trail of black was left in its wake. Some civilians had remained, though now they were keeping their distance, and they watched as the black, smoking object twirled toward the ground and then crashed into it, exploding on impact.
Mike reached out both hands instinctively, palms held upward. A dim, protective, blue bubble formed around the small shockwave and plume of fire that approached from the wake of the blast. The street was lit up with a yellow glow; the light was cast across the walls of the buildings on either side and reflected billowing columns of fire in the windows there. The flame touched off the edges of the force field, but Mike easily protected them from the blast. The remaining civilians fled at the sight of the detonation, and now the intersection was almost empty save for a few brave souls who stood behind cars on the far side of the street, taking photos.
Ciara had stepped back. Her mouth gaped open as she took deep breaths, practically shaking. “Jane! Why on earth did you do that?”
Jane turned around to face Ciara, her chest rising and falling at the exertion. “I took care of something before it became a problem.” She glanced to the left, just over Ciara’s shoulder. “Let’s go this way,” she said as she walked straight past them and the burning debris in the middle of the road to her right. “I want to hear what you were about to say, Ciara.”
They followed Jane until she stopped about a hundred feet down the street, where things were quieter. Then the four stood facing each other.
“Now tell us. What did he build, Ciara?”
“Some substance to magnify his reach in this world. It looks like crystal, only…it’s not. You’ve all seen it at this point, haven’t you?”
Mike, Morris, and Jane looked at each other. One by one, they answered in the affirmative.
“It’s off the coast. About five miles out—you know that now.” Ciara had been glancing at the ground, and now she looked up at her friends and met their eyes with confidence. “There’s a column. I saw it. That’s what the base structure is sitting on, and it reaches right down below the surface of the ocean floor. The structure is wider there, for support. However, the part at the surface—the part we’ve all seen—that’s different. The substance there is…extremely unusual. What lies underneath it in the water is just lumpen crystal, more like rock. The surface section is acting like some kind of beacon or antenna.”
Mike shifted and folded his arms. “How he have possibly built something like this?” he asked, perplexed.
None of them appeared to have an answer. Then Morris spoke.
“Well, we recently saw an ancient, alien Machine rise out of the depths of the Atlantic Ocean and open gateways to other dimensions and, according to Jane, different time periods. I think it falls within the realm of possibility.”
“Good point.”
Jane had been staring at Ciara, only vaguely listening to Morris’s description of the Machine. Her mind briefly flashed with images of the swirling, complex language etched in its golden-hued surface as it spun. Ciara stared past them, back toward the intersection, with a look of serious concern.
What is it? Jane asked, deciding on telepathic communication. The look on Ciara’s face demanded silence.
Something’s happening. Someone is approaching on the street. Ciara didn’t take her eyes off the intersection in the distance as she took a few tentative steps in that direction.
After exchanging quick, bewildered glances, the others followed. As Ciara approached the burning mass of debris where the drone had hit the ground, she slowed down. Jane approached her and stood to her left. Jane was about to step ahead when she felt Ciara’s hand reach out and hold her back, her palm pressed firmly against her stomach. Turning, she glanced at Jane and shook her head gently.
Jane’s eyes narrowed upon seeing the look of foreboding in Ciara’s eyes, which were lit up by the flecks of diminishing fire from the burning remains of the drone. Then she turned back toward the street. When nothing happened, and the street remained empty save for a few daring souls who still stood there taking pictures, Jane looked back toward her.
Ciara didn’t turn her head, but kept staring at the intersection, her eyes darting from left to right, seeming to search for something.
“We can’t let them keep those photos,” Morris said.
“I’m burning the memory chips right now,” Mike replied. They had both taken position directly behind Jane and Ciara. Morris scanned the crossing from left to right, his arms folded. They watched in the distance as several people began looking at their digital devices with perplexed expressions. One woman tapped the side of her large, transparent tablet, whose screen was now flickering wildly with multicolored light, clearly broken.
She’s coming.
Ciara’s telepathic warning resounded with a clarity and authority that made Jane’s blood run cold. All three of them quickly returned their attention to the road ahead. Morris and Mike fell into position next to Jane so that the four of them stood together, forming a line.
I can feel her too, Jane said.
Then the girl came into view on the opposite side of the street. She was walking south, and her eyes glowed with a strange blue light.
Is that light coming out of her eyes? Mike asked, perturbed.
Yes, Ciara answered. He’s got control of her. I
t’s started. I can feel them, all over the city; Zatera’s drawing them to him.
What do we do? Morris asked.
After a moment, Ciara answered. Minimize the damage. That’s all we can do.
Acting on instinct, Morris glanced at Jane, whose face was caught in a frown, staring at the girl with what looked like a mixture of bewilderment and fear. What is it? he asked her.
Jane took a moment to respond. There’s a voice here. I can hear it. It’s flowing through her mind like a psychic beacon.
Yes. I hear it too, Ciara added. It’s coming from Zatera, drawing her toward the…the tower. At least, that’s what he’s calling it. Her brow crossed as a look of consternation crept across her features. But…I see no tower out there! It’s just a flat surface!
I know this voice, Jane said in a dead tone. The presence I encountered with Max—it’s definitely him. And when Max went to Paris, to follow him after the ship and the vortex—
He told you someone was in danger, Mike said, finishing her sentence.
Yes, exactly. Jane looked at Ciara. Can’t you hear it? A second voice is there, trying to communicate, but it’s being blocked.
Yes, I can hear it all right. Strongest telepathic voice I’ve ever heard. She glanced down. It reminds me of Danny. But he’ll never get out. Not without our help. A deep crease furrowed her brow as she concentrated fiercely. Trey, she said, taking a deep breath. His name’s Trey. R. His last name begins with an R. I can see him locked in some distant place. His voice still comes through, but I don’t know how long he can last there. Ciara had been glancing at the ground as she concentrated, and now she looked up again at the girl with the glowing blue eyes. Trey’s presence is fading.
So that’s the body he’s taken. That’s the person standing out there on that platform. Trey, Morris added.
Can we help him? Jane asked.
Ciara shook her head gently. I’m not sure. Glancing at Jane, she said, maybe. If we work together, if we reach far enough. But we’d be going up against Zatera.
That’s not a good idea, Morris interjected.
I agree, Mike added.
Their gazes fell on Jane; she was the only one who hadn’t said much on the subject. She glanced between them nervously. I’ve felt his mind too. At first, it was like Max, except…evil. Darkened. Perhaps even destroyed to an extent. It was as though it wasn’t so much a mind I was feeling or communicating with, but something broken. She paused and glanced toward the intersection where the smoke from the destroyed drone still drifted among the ever-moving, automated traffic. It was like looking at the fragments of a shattered, filthy mirror. And I thought, OK, he’s a threat, but we can take him—with Max I mean, all of us together. But now…whatever that thing is that he’s formed out on the ocean, it’s changed all that. It’s like it’s no longer just a singular mind we’re dealing with. His presence is expanding all the time.
The intersection had emptied almost completely, save for the cars, but now even the traffic was thinning out rapidly. Jane wondered if it was being redirected. Just as she had this thought, the sound of metal clanging against the ground resounded down the street from beyond the crossway to her right, just out of sight. The four exchanged glances and then began to inch forward.
After a few moments of silence, another young man, who appeared to be in his late teens, walked past a large parked vehicle and crossed the street on the far side. He was wearing blue denim jeans and a black T-shirt with a neon, splattered-paint design strewn across the front of it. The same blue light brimmed from his eyes.
“Another one,” Jane said aloud, realizing there wasn’t much point in keeping their conversation secret anymore.
Morris sighed. “Ciara, I know we already discussed this, but are you absolutely certain there’s no way you can extend that energy—the golden river—around them too?”
Ciara hesitated and watched the young man as he crossed the street, disappearing for a moment behind the smoke that still rippled from the drone. “I think in time, maybe I could.” She turned to Morris. “But we’re talking months here—or even years—of learning. I know very little about it except what I’ve felt and seen myself, and what Max has taught me.” She turned around again and looked at the stranger with the black T-shirt before the vehicles lining the far side of the street occluded their sight of him. “You don’t want to know what I had to do to get it to reach you, or even to restore my own strength. Keeping Zatera’s psychic hands off you was the most difficult thing I’ve faced in my life.”
Morris glanced at Jane, then back at Ciara. “OK, just checking for sure—forget that for now,” he said sternly. “How many of them is he taking control of, Ciara? Can you scan for that information?”
Ciara closed her eyes, concentrating. They all watched her in earnest as a tense silence built up around then.
“Hundreds,” Ciara said finally. “It’s in the hundreds.”
Jane exchanged a worried glance with Morris.
“OK,” he said after they had all absorbed the information. “We should get out of here now. The Committee’s probably already dispatched another drone, and the next one could have weaponry.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that,” Jane said, whipping her head around to look behind her. She was exploring the quiet street when, a few seconds after she had turned, an explosion rocked the area around them, just to the right of the intersection. The shockwave was powerful enough to knock them all to the ground. Instinctively, Jane’s arms flew forward and she pushed out with her power, which broke her fall. Still, her cheek hit the concrete and she yelped. Having recovered quickly, Morris was at her side within seconds; she felt his strong arms lift her as though she were weightless. He held her face tightly, and she winced in pain as she looked into his eyes. Seeing the worry there brought back that familiar, warm comfort, and despite the new tenderness in her cheek, she took that moment to bask in the feeling. A few seconds later, he wiped at the new cut on her cheek with his thumb.
“It’s fine. Just a scratch.”
She nodded and took a deep breath as he relaxed his grip.
As the four of them regained their bearings, they stood up and looked around. Upon investigation, they realized that a large vehicle had been launched into the air, crashed into one of the holographic housings for the advertisements, and fallen back onto the ground. The vehicle had hit only thirty feet from them, but the resulting explosion had still caused a shockwave. After a few moments, a sphere of translucent energy appeared from the roaring fire where the car had crashed; it was a shield, and behind it, one of the young Ethereals, clearly captured by the Zatera’s mind, was walking forward. As he passed through the flames, the shield disappeared, and he continued walking south.
“Why on earth did he do that?” Jane asked, just loud enough to be heard by her friends.
Ciara was staring intently at the young man as he continued across the intersection. He was halfway across the street when she answered. “Some people got in his way. Apparently, they’re appearing all over the city and, obviously, the light in their eyes is attracting attention. They have no intention of stopping for anyone. Like I said, they got in his way…and he taught them a lesson; it’s that simple.”
Just as she finished saying this, a man in his thirties stumbled into the crossway from their right. His leg was injured and a small amount of blood dripped down his jeans from a wound there. His left cheek was covered in ash. He barely gave them notice as he ran past them, struggling but moving quickly.
Ciara glanced at Jane. Seeing the worried look on her face, she reassured her. “He’ll be OK. There’s a hospital nearby.”
But Jane’s interest in the man who had just passed them was fading quickly. The Ethereal who had caused the damage had turned and was now staring directly at them, that same eerie light brimming from his eyes like laterally placed swords.
Uh, guys? she said, suddenly wary of speaking aloud.
They all glanced
at her, then followed her gaze across the street.
Jane’s eyes widened as the young man took a step toward her. His eyes brimmed with a new flare of light as he moved. This was accompanied by a strange ringing sound that washed over them and faded into the distance behind them like a rapidly moving wave.
We should get out of here, now, Morris said sternly as the unknown Ethereal continued walking toward them, now only fifty feet away.
Agreed, Ciara, said. She was glancing at the ground, concentrating. More of them are in the area. He’s alerted them to our presence. At least ten of them are approaching this location now.
The four glanced at each other, and then, needing no further incentive, they turned in the other direction and broke into a run. With a quick glance over her shoulder, Jane confirmed that the Ethereal was following them, racing just as fast as they were.
CHAPTER 8
BUILDING
At the base of what would become the Crystal Tower, Trey was still standing in the very center, his arms outstretched and his neck craned up to the sky. The air around him rippled with the power that emanated from his body, and blue light shone from his eyes so that thin arcs—like blades—penetrated the space on either side. A ringing sound permeated the area—a sound caused by the intense interaction between his power and the physical world, as though some elemental force of nature was secretly pushing back on the extraordinary forces that were coming from his mind.
At the edges of the base, something had changed; the crystalline structure there had started to rise. It had risen by only a matter of inches, in some places as much as ten, but nonetheless, it was indeed growing under his influence. However, Zatera knew he would need more energy, more power—the power of the others, the ones now on their way—to create the gargantuan edifice he had in mind. He was channeling some of his energy into drawing these other Ethereals to him, and some of his focus he was using to control the two specific individuals he had selected—two of the most powerful in the world. One of them had proven easy to control. His name was Guang. He lived on what was known as the Asian continent, but was now on his way to him. However, one of them—Daniel—was proving far more of a challenge than he could have anticipated. It was primarily Daniel’s psychokinetic abilities that had drawn his attention, but the young man also possessed immense telepathic faculties. He was still fighting every step of the way to maintain control.
The Crystal Tower (The Ethereal Vision Book 3) Page 15
