The Crystal Tower (The Ethereal Vision Book 3)

by Liam Donnelly

  If it’s constructed! Morris interjected sternly as he turned and looked at her.

  Ciara nodded. If it’s constructed, he will be much more powerful than he is now.

  Jane had almost stopped listening after Mike’s mention of the tower because she already had a good idea what it was for. Certainly, she knew far more than her friends did. For reasons she couldn’t quite grasp, she thought to keep it to herself for now, and so said nothing more on the subject.

  Never knew this many Ethereals were in New York City—or any city, for that matter, Morris said.

  They stared in silence for a moment longer.

  Jane sighed as a light gust of chilled air blew her blonde hair over her shoulders. How long do we have? she asked, directing her question at Ciara.

  I’m not sure. But not long; a day, maybe less—I think, Ciara said. That’s how long it will take to build.

  That’s not long, Mike said.

  Can we do anything now to stop it? Jane asked.

  Ciara glanced up at her friend. Jane had been standing a few feet ahead, near the front of the perimeter, her back to Ciara. Now she glanced over her shoulder and their eyes met. I don’t think so, Ciara said finally. I think only one person in this world can do that.

  Jane’s eyes drifted as she thought about this. Immediately, she knew to whom Ciara was referring. She lifted her head and slowly looked toward the sky. Where the heck are you Max? she thought. Distracted by what she detected was Ciara’s befuddlement, Jane looked at her again. Ciara’s eyes had sunk to the ground, and she appeared to be in deep concentration. Her brow was furrowing, and she was clearly distressed.

  What is it? What’s wrong?

  Ciara took a few tentative steps forward and looked out onto the street, scanning the buildings. Something’s wrong.

  All three of them moved closer to her.

  What is it? Morris asked after a moment, when she hadn’t elaborated further.

  Her eyes tightened so that she appeared to be wincing. Someone’s coming. Someone’s coming after us.

  Jane took another step closer. Morris was right behind her, looking over her shoulder as she scanned.

  Who? Who’s coming after us? he asked sternly.

  Ciara glanced at the gray concrete on which they stood. She shook her head nervously. I’m not sure. I can see his eyes, though. Slowly, her gaze drifted upward as she turned and looked at Jane. He’s looking for you, Jane.

  Jane glanced among the three of them, then wasted no time in taking action. OK. Let’s go.

  Agreed! Mike said.

  Jane took off immediately, taking the route around the left side of the enormous building. Let’s head north back up through the city. We’ll find somewhere to hide up there. Are many civilians left?

  Yes, Ciara replied. As far as I can tell, fifty percent have remained; the rest appear to have evacuated. The ones who remained are mostly hiding indoors and out of sight, though. We should be able to find somewhere to take refuge easily enough.

  ***

  Zatera watched as they crossed the bridge, all of them in odd and different-colored clothing. His eyes narrowed. He found this strange, and he glanced down at his own simple white garments. Discarding the thought, he glanced back up. Scanning from side to side, he saw that the bridge was littered with them. For the first time, he smiled at his progress. With one quick glance toward the sky, he saw that the vortex of cloud there was becoming more prominent. Their power was already affecting him, and the closer they got, the more he was able to draw upon it.

  The first ones reached the outer perimeter of the base and stopped. They stared at him for a moment, unmoving. Then, hesitantly, one of them, a young man about the same age as Trey, stepped forward. He walked up the slanted precipice where the circular platform met the bridge and stepped onto it. As his foot fell onto the crystalline surface, a small flash of light appeared there, brighter than what he would have seen as he crossed the bridge. His mouth made an O shape. Then, as he looked back up at the one who had beckoned him across this distance, he brought down his other foot. After another second of hesitation, he began walking toward the center. The others, who had waited behind him, crossed onto the platform and quickly followed.

  By the time the first Ethereal had reached Trey, twenty others were on the surface. They were moving along the sides, fanning out behind him. The one who had taken the first courageous steps onto the structure crossed the large gap that separated them, covering a distance of over seven hundred feet. When he was within five feet of Trey, he stopped and glanced into his eyes, seeing not Trey himself, but Zatera. Then he nodded, and proceeded to join the others. He veered left and joined the group with which he had initially crossed the bridge—people who had previously been friends, contacts he had made while living the covert side of his life as an Ethereal.

  As he walked, he glanced toward this group and scanned their minds. Reading their thoughts and memories, he recalled their friendship, and that they had been together when they had heard his call—some kind of psychic beacon that had drawn them out across the ocean and caused their minds to go blank. Still, he didn’t have much control of his own actions, and so he turned back to face the one who had called them. His name was Trey, he knew, but he frowned at the thought, for he realized immediately that this wasn’t correct. A different name was there, but when he tried to look, he found his thoughts blocked by the immense power of this individual. He recoiled from the effort and ceased all thoughts about what this individual’s name really was. It didn’t matter. His moment of escape from this being’s control was gone, and he stood up straight in front of his would-be comrades, facing the center of the platform on which stood the one that had beckoned them.

  Looking toward the edge, Zatera saw dozens of Ethereals crossing the threshold. After a few more minutes, fifty-six individuals, himself included, occupied the space. They were gathering behind him, forming a wall of power from which he began to draw.

  He was still watching them when he began to concentrate, and his eyes grew bright once more with that same blue light. A tremendous sonic hum resonated across the area, and the structure under his feet was illuminated again with bolts of energy, which appeared as white flashes beneath the crystalline surface. He turned back toward the bridge and reached his arms out to his sides. All around his body, ripples of energy spread out, distorting the space, as though the molecules of air were being disturbed by some vast heat source. However, there was no heat; only pure psychic energy poured from his mind.

  The sound grew louder. Just seconds later, it could be heard from a distance of two miles away. Soon after, the sound was strong enough to reach the shores of the city. Next, a tremendous shockwave exploded from his body. The wake of energy was blue in color and reached across the ocean. Some of the Ethereals at the edges raised their arms reflexively, bracing themselves against the pulse of energy, but they were protected by his power. Their hair was merely tossed back as though by a great breeze.

  Now, at the very edges of the surface, twenty feet behind where the Ethereals stood, the crystal began growing at a much faster rate. It shot upward in a jerking, haphazard fashion, growing at a rate of inches per second. Within a few moments, a jagged external wall had taken shape at the perimeter of the platform; it was already twenty feet high. At its tips were sharp, dagger-like protrusions that stuck out toward the sky, though they changed constantly as the material continued its upward trajectory. As it rose, no particular shape remained for longer than a few seconds.

  It also grew in thickness. Light glinted in a strange mist that had appeared behind the Ethereals. All around the interior, as the walls were reinforced with more of the crystalline substance, it became a more solid structure. With each second that passed, the walls of the edifice became more impenetrable as the Ethereals locked themselves inside. Only a small opening remained at the front, and Zatera knew he could seal it at a second’s notice. Through this, the remaining Ethereals, whose
numbers were already in the hundreds, and whose minds were no longer under their own control, crossed the threshold and joined him in what was, in actuality, an extremely dangerous endeavor.

  ***

  All the Ethereals—those with enough psychic power to hear the call that had echoed across the city—were making their way across the crystal bridge, which stretched out across the ocean. All of them, except one, were walking in the same direction. Elliot was walking in opposition to them, and alone. His eyes had grown slightly dimmer, though he could still feel new and tremendous confidence surging through his veins, and his feet touched down on the surface of the crystal with a certainty he had never known in his life. Every now and then, his gaze crossed that of the other Ethereals. They looked at him and he frowned at their zombie-like expressions. As their gazes slowly drifted back toward their destination, he grinned at the vast difference between him and them.

  He could even detect the minute traces of power within them. Some of them were powerful Ethereals, indeed, but some of them had only traces of psychic power. He was different. He had been chosen. He had control. For the first time since leaving the massive circular structure and the unusual young man out there, Elliot paused. He glanced at the ground. Did he truly have control? He assured himself that he did, but still, sometimes it felt as though his actions were not his own. He began moving again in the direction of the beach. He was sure he was in control of his own body, but sometimes—and he was reluctant to admit this—it seemed as though his body took control of him as he veered in and out of the paths of the passing Ethereals. What if he had only been given the illusion of control?

  The thought stirred such fear in him that he banished it completely from his mind. “I am in control,” he said aloud and gruffly. That was the end of any further consideration of the subject, and he continued toward the shoreline.

  ***

  Claudia had been discussing the situation with her main office. She had turned away from the scene on the beach and walked to the opposite side of the boardwalk when Josh called for her.

  “Uh, guys, you should see this,” he said.

  Hearing the quiver in his voice, Claudia whipped her head around and looked at him. He nodded toward the beach. She turned and followed the direction of his gaze. For a moment, as she glanced at the bridge, she saw nothing. It had been emptied now that the remaining Ethereals had crossed the threshold and disappeared into the distance. Then, after a moment, she saw a lone figure walking along the surface, and her breath caught in her throat. He was walking toward them, not away from them.

  “My God. He can’t be older than fifteen. What is he doing?” She watched him as he reached the area where the bridge joined the sand. Then he veered left and walked away from them, heading in the direction of the city. As he walked, the civilians on the beach who had bravely—or naively—gathered to see the strange object moved, giving him a wide berth. Indeed, some of them darted out of his path. In the distance, Claudia was shocked to see him glance at one of the civilians—a female—as she remained too close to him. When he reached out a hand, the woman rose into the air without any warning and was thrown a distance of ten feet. She landed hard, rolled over, sat up, and scrambled back toward the boardwalk as several people rushed to help her. Claudia’s thin cellular device slipped out of her hand and dropped to the wood, where it smashed into pieces.

  She ignored it and watched, her eyes brimming with awe, shock, and fear as this young man continued up the beach and away from the civilians. Finally, when he was out of sight, she glanced down at her broken cellphone. There had been something different about him. Glancing up again and catching a faint trace of his presence in the distance, Claudia knew not to follow him, though every impulse in her wanted to do so. She remained where she stood and gave no orders for a drone to track him. This instinct frustrated her, for she wanted to pursue, but somehow she knew not to go anywhere near him.

  CHAPTER 10

  CRIMSON

  Nathan Dowley was heading away from Union Square in the city of San Francisco. In his hand, he carried a bag of groceries from an upscale food market. He’d had several meetings that day, and he smiled as he thought about them. They had gone well, and to him that meant one thing—a future that included more time with his daughter. The smile on his face was as much about her as it was about the success of the meetings. His company was now in line for a lucrative contract providing new AI applications to government agencies.

  “Sheryl,” he said, addressing his AI through his earpiece, “taxi, please.”

  He stood at the edge of the sidewalk and, as he waited, drew his cellphone from his pocket and unlocked it. Immediately, a picture of his daughter appeared. It was a selfie, showing her in an unusual posture with people her own age in the background. A handwritten caption underneath read, Yoga?! Seriously, Dad?

  He grinned. He had known she probably wouldn’t enjoy the class, but he had encouraged her to try it nonetheless, hoping she would make some new friends.

  “Your transport is arriving in one minute, sir,” Sheryl said.

  “Thank you,” he said. His AI was advanced, but nowhere near as advanced as what the military or the—

  Nathan glanced away from his phone as thoughts of the Committee ran through his mind. He knew little about them—only what the major news channels had broadcast, and the few pieces of information to which his company had access. Further investigation had revealed that some of his own company’s technology could be traced back to the Committee, which was using it at undisclosed locations. Nathan knew a serious incident had occurred at a concealed site in New York. He also knew the fire in the facility in Hong Kong had been caused by some kind of extremist group, Ethereal End, that now appeared to have gone underground. Had they been involved in the incident in New York also? He pondered this for a moment before placing his cellphone back in his pocket.

  Glancing up, he saw a taxi pull around a corner. On instinct, he knew it was his. Just as it rounded the bend and approached his location, he felt something shake beneath his feet. Nathan glanced down, his brow furrowing slightly as he felt mild vibrations rising through his body. The minute trembling stopped a few seconds later. He knew it was unlikely to be an earthquake; stabilization systems had been in place along the San Andreas fault line since 2025. That ruled out most possibilities except the only obvious remaining one: a psionic. However, he refused to acknowledge that a single person—psionic or not—could have caused the quake, and so returned his attention to the automated taxi as it approached.

  As the troubling thoughts faded, Nathan looked up at the sky and watched the puffy white clouds, from which shone golden arcs of light. He squinted as he looked at them, though, for the beauty was absent. He knew the feeling was within him; the clouds were beautiful, but something was wrong, and he couldn’t put his finger on exactly what it was.

  The taxi pulled into the parking spot next to him. Instead of stepping straight into it, he hesitated and continued staring at the startling cloud formations. Nathan frowned as he looked at them, for the more he looked, the more it appeared they were forming particular shapes. One of them was in the exact shape of a bird. Another formed a triangle, and yet another formed a perfect square. That can’t be right, he thought, and his previously quelled feelings of foreboding increased.

  Without taking his eyes off the sky, Nathan opened the door to the taxi and dropped his groceries inside. Placing one foot inside the front door and down on the floor, he glanced to the far right, where the gap at the corner of the buildings afforded him a greater view of the distance. Indeed, there appeared to be another shape in the sky, but this one was much more complex. It looked like a sphere at first, but as he squinted, he could make out points along its surface. He realized then that it was a far more complex shape than a sphere—one for which he didn’t have a name.

  “Sir, your taxi is waiting.”

  He blinked as Sheryl’s distracting voice drew his attention away f
rom the sky. He glanced down into the vehicle where he had placed the groceries, and he thought of his daughter. A smile once again appeared on his face as he sat in the empty car and the harness automatically wrapped around him.

  “Destination, please,” said the car’s AI system.

  “First, ten fifty Bush Street,” he replied. “We may have another destination after that, but let’s go there first.”

  “Of course, sir. Credit is automatically being deducted from your account.”

  “Understood.”

  “Would you like me to interface with your phone for incoming calls?”

  “Yes, please,” he said, holding his cellphone in his hand and swiping through pictures without taking his eyes off it.

  The car shook. It was another minor tremble and it rattled the interior for just a second, but it was enough for Nathan to take his eyes off his screen and glance out the windows. Everything looked normal; people, many of them carrying shopping bags, were crossing the street ten feet in front of the taxi. Children roamed the sidewalks with their parents. Still, something felt flat-out wrong, though Nathan had no idea what.

  A trace of a grimace appeared on his face as he felt the knot in his stomach, realizing it had been there from the very moment the first quake had sent vibrations through his body back on the street. At that moment, all thoughts of a happy reunion with his daughter vanished. This was the thing that troubled him the most: no matter how hard he tried, he could no longer see her smiling face.

  He turned his attention to the front of the vehicle. “Has any seismic activity been reported in the area this evening?” he asked.

  “None, sir. There is no tectonic movement at present.”

  “Then what are these tremors I’m feeling?”

  For a moment, the car’s AI didn’t respond. Then, after a moment, it answered with, “I’m not certain, sir. There does appear to be some ground movement, but it has no connection with tectonic activity.”