Triskellion 3: The Gathering

by Will Peterson

  Rachel and Adam did as they were told, but Laura, still trembling with shock, managed a little resistance.

  “What if I don’t?” she asked. Her face was streaked with tears and spots of blood but she was defiant. “Are you going to shoot me, too?”

  “Of course not,” Newman said. “I’ve invested years of time and money in you, Laura. You know more about these things than anyone. Your research was, and still is, invaluable to me. Why would I kill my investment? Now sit down.” Newman swiped the back of his hand across Laura’s face, and she dropped quickly into her chair.

  Rachel began to cry. She called out to Adam with her mind, but could hear nothing. As far as she could tell there was no blocking device in operation like the one at Alamogordo – perhaps she was simply too traumatized. She had just seen the man who had saved them from Alamogordo shot dead; she had just seen Laura Sullivan viciously slapped. Both of these acts of violence had been committed by the man she had grown up calling Daddy.

  Newman stepped forward suddenly and grabbed the Triskellion from around Adam’s neck.

  “It’s mine!” Adam shouted, attempting to wrestle his father off him.

  “No, it’s not.” Newman slapped his son’s hand away. “I’ve worked years for this. Now be a good boy.” He pulled the amulet away, then reached out and grabbed roughly at the neck of Rachel’s T-shirt. “Where’s the other one?”

  “I don’t have it,” Rachel cried.

  He grabbed at Laura’s shirt next, ripping it and tearing off buttons until he was satisfied that it was not round her neck. “Where is it?”

  “We don’t know,” Rachel sobbed. “We don’t know!”

  “I don’t believe you.” He spoke close to her face. “If you don’t tell me I’ll…”

  “What will you do? Kill me; kill us?” Rachel said. “How can you do this to your own children? You were there when we were born.”

  “You weren’t born,” Newman said quietly. “You were bred.”

  “What?” Adam said.

  “You were bred,” Ralph Newman repeated. “You were a government-funded genetic experiment. Your mother was identified as a carrier of a unique gene: one that had lain dormant for centuries in that ridiculous village she came from. I knew that any children she had would be … special, so I made sure that’s what happened.”

  “But how did you know?”

  “Because it was my job to know. I’d been researching this stuff for years and I knew all about the Wings and the Roots. I knew about the village of Triskellion and who your mother’s real parents were. I knew because your grandfather couldn’t be faithful to his wife,” Newman spat. “And your grandmother was no better than a streetwalker.”

  Rachel flinched at the word.

  Ralph Newman walked over to his desk and picked up a card. He swiped it in the reader of a large steel safe-like structure built into the wall behind his desk. The door slid down electronically, revealing a black interior into which the shape of three Triskellions had been cut.

  In one of the slots, a Triskellion glinted, gold and pulsating.

  Newman placed the amulet he had ripped from Adam’s throat next to it. They both began to glow and pulse in unison.

  “You see?” he said. “They need to be together. Tell me where the other one is. Does the boy have it? Rafael … or whatever he is calling himself … Ariel … Gabriel?”

  Adam looked at Rachel before nodding.

  “Very clever, keeping it separate from the others,” Newman said. “But it must be here very soon.” Glancing at the huge clock on the wall that detailed planetary movements and time zones across the globe, he ticked off the seconds. “I’m not too panicked. If he does have it, I know he needs the three of them together just as much as I do.” He walked over to another door, behind his desk. “I suggest you ‘reach out’ with your minds and tell him to hurry up.”

  Adam looked at his father and attempted a defiant tone. “And if we don’t?”

  “Don’t mess with me, Adam.” Newman opened a door to the right of his desk and wheeled out a chair from inside. In the chair, her arms strapped and her mouth silenced by an ugly strip of duct tape, was Kate Newman.

  The children’s mother.

  His own wife.

  “I was true to my word, Laura,” he said. “I got her out of jail… Out of the frying pan and into the fire, you could say.”

  Kate Newman struggled and wrestled against the tape, her eyes pleading with her children to do whatever was required.

  “Now get those special brains working.” Newman pressed the gun against Kate’s head. “If you want your mother to stay alive.”

  There were several seconds of tense silence, broken suddenly by the chime of the lift arriving at the observation tower. All eyes turned to the opening doors, and it was clear from his expression that the man who emerged was used to welcoming committees.

  His white teeth gleamed almost as brightly as his shiny silver suit. He spread his arms wide and strode confidently into the middle of the room, gradually taking in the tableau arranged around him.

  “Well, I hadn’t expected to see quite so many people,” he said. “But it hardly matters. An event as momentous as this needs an audience.”

  Rachel and Adam both recognized the preacher whose face they had seen on billboards and television screens ever since they had arrived back in America.

  “Ezekiel Crane,” Adam whispered.

  “I know that’s the name he uses…” Rachel answered slowly. Looking at him now – the taut over-pink skin, the peroxide hair, the smile that was as fake as everything else – Rachel had the uncomfortable feeling that he was someone she and Adam had met before.

  Someone they knew very well…

  From the look in Ezekiel Crane’s piercing blue eyes, it was obvious he recognized them too.

  “I should have expected you two to be here,” he said. “Again, no matter. I can kill two very annoying little birds with one stone – when my business here today is complete, and everything has changed, the new world will take shape … without either of you in it.” His eyes held Rachel’s for a few dreadful seconds, then flew to Laura’s. “Nice to see you too, Doctor Sullivan. Dug up anything interesting lately?”

  Laura stared, bewildered. “Who the hell are you?”

  Crane grinned. “Oh, I’ve been all sorts of people…”

  Rachel inched closer to Adam. She heard her brother gasp and in that instant she knew the preacher’s real name. He was the man who had tried to kill them more times than she cared to remember; the man with whom they shared a dark history.

  With whom they shared blood.

  Then another voice spoke the name out loud.

  “Hello, Hilary…”

  Ezekiel Crane, who had once been Hilary Wing, span round to face Ralph Newman. The blood drained from the shiny plastic-looking face and his mouth was pale and thin suddenly. When he spoke, his lips trembled in fear and disbelief. “Rudi…?”

  Ralph Newman nodded. “You can reinvent yourself all you like,” he said; “but deep down you’re still the same pathetic little runt you were when we were kids. Shame our mother isn’t around any more or you could go running to her. You could bury your face in her apron and start blubbing, like you always used to.”

  The veins bulged, thick and blue, on Crane’s forehead like angry worms beneath the skin, his fingers clawed, then folded into fists. He stepped towards Ralph Newman.

  “I’m long past crying to anyone, brother,” he said. “These days, I’m the reason people cry.” He took a step closer. “And our mother is not around any more, because you killed her…”

  Ezekiel Crane’s words hung in the air. Rachel sat perfectly still, feeling spots of Todd Crow’s blood drying on her face, as more images from the long-distant past came swimming through the murk into her consciousness.

  Pictures from the past that lit up the present.

  Rachel saw the anguished face of the young boy Rudi who would grow into the man Ralph �
�� a man driven and scarred who would one day perversely father twins in the name of science.

  She saw the thirteen-year-old Rudi snip a car’s brake cables, a look of concentration on his face. She saw the expression morph into one of panic as the boy chased the shiny blue Packard. She listened to his screams, his pleadings for his mother to stop, knowing full well she was driving to her death.

  The boy aged and grew in Rachel’s mind. He … hardened. He was taken under the wing of those whose research he would eventually take over and extend. He became an esteemed and powerful scientist, and Rachel felt the terrible depths of his ambition as his plans took root…

  Root. Wing.

  Two families, whose long-forbidden union would one day produce Rachel and Adam, were the first step on a long and incredible journey from a small village to a dazzling glass tower.

  “She was never meant to die!” Newman screamed, breaking into Rachel’s visions. “They were. Your father and that woman.” He pointed at Kate. “Her mother.”

  Crane shook his head and smiled. “But that’s not what happened, is it … Rudi?”

  Crane and Newman continued to argue, and Rachel saw other pictures: the terrible snapshots of their lives. A child called Hilary – Rudi’s half-brother – was taken back to England and raised in the village of Triskellion by his father. He grew into a sullen and damaged young man eager to lash out but unsure who his enemy was – unsure until twins had arrived in his village.

  His own very special flesh and blood…

  And in her mind Rachel saw the girl who would one day become her mother: Hilary Wing’s half-sister, Kate. A girl who would grow into a woman eager to learn and desperate to spread her wings beyond the claustrophobic little village in which she had been raised. A woman who would travel to America, where she would meet a scientist and fall in love. An older man called Ralph Newman.

  But of course, that meeting would be far from accidental.

  “Well, well, Kate.” Finally turning from his brother, the anger was still clear on Ezekiel Crane’s face when he looked at his half-sister – but it seemed to have left his voice at least. He turned and spread his arms wide. “This is turning into quite the family reunion.”

  Newman pointed the gun at Crane. “For the first and last time,” he said.

  “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” Crane said. “Just as it was my destiny to be here on this day, it was also yours. Although for very different reasons, of course. We have all been chosen to play one part or another. Mine is a little more important, that’s all.” He gazed at the steel case that contained the two Triskellions and counted off on his fingers theatrically. “One, two… Oh dear. We’re still missing something very important, aren’t we?” He leaned down towards Adam. “Your guardian angel has it, does he?”

  Adam stood up. “Gabriel should have killed you when he had the chance.”

  “Sit down!” Newman shouted.

  “Oh, I’m not very easy to kill,” Crane said. “Not any more.” He shook his head and pointed at Newman’s gun. “You should put that away, brother; it will be of little use to you.”

  Ralph Newman barked out a laugh. “I don’t know what it is you think you’ve turned into, Hilary – something rather sad, certainly – but I doubt if it’s anything more than that.”

  “You cannot possibly grasp what has happened to me,” Crane said. His voice grew louder and he addressed the room as if he were at one of his rallies. “You can’t begin to understand what I have become, what I am about to become. I am special. I am protected.”

  Newman nodded, thoughtful. “Really?” he said, then he calmly put a bullet through Crane’s kneecap.

  The scream sounded unearthly, like something being dredged up from somewhere dark and hot, and Crane dropped to the floor, clutching his shattered leg. Blood running thick between his fingers, he dragged himself along, gasping for breath and struggling to gather up the tiny white fragments of bone that were now scattered across the observatory.

  “It looks as though I’ve missed all the fun…”

  Everyone looked up at the sound of the voice. Gabriel was standing in the corner of the room. Rachel shouted his name in relief; Laura reached over to take Adam’s hand.

  Gabriel calmly held up the third Triskellion, then tossed it from hand to hand like it was a cheap trinket. “I’m guessing you’ve all been waiting for this.”

  There was a sudden silence, a heaviness in the room, like all the air had been sucked out. All eyes were on Gabriel. Nobody saw him move, but as suddenly as he had appeared in the room, he was at the door of Newman’s safe, reaching inside to slot the final Triskellion into place. “I hope this is not a disappointment.”

  The clock on the wall stopped.

  The silence was broken by a low rumble that rose up and quickly became a deafening roar. The building began to shake and the sky suddenly went black.

  Black … and moving.

  “Bees,” Adam said. “Billions of them…”

  The swarm spread across the sky, settling like a dark blanket, until bees covered every inch of every window in the observatory, and the room was plunged into darkness.

  For a few seconds the only sounds were the low moan of agony coming from Ezekiel Crane and the ragged breathing of Kate Newman, who was struggling for breath beneath her gag. Then the observatory’s emergency lighting system powered up and a narrow strip of light flickered on around a circle on the ceiling.

  “Oh my God,” Newman said. “I can’t believe this is finally happening.”

  “Believe it,” Gabriel said.

  Rachel’s eyes adjusted and she saw Ezekiel Crane clambering to his feet. Crying out in pain, he leaned against a chair to keep himself upright and waved a bloodstained hand at Gabriel. “You and I are the same.”

  “I don’t think so,” Gabriel said.

  “We should be on the same side, at least.”

  Gabriel shook his head. “What is it that you think is happening here?”

  “They’re coming,” Crane said. “That’s what’s happening. You will tell them, won’t you? When they get here.” Desperation flashed in his eyes. “You will tell them that I am ready to lead, here on earth? I have prepared the workers for them… The breeders. They are ready to act on my command, ready to be changed and moulded. You will tell them when they arrive? Show them that I’m the one with the gifts; the one who is willing to do what has to be done…”

  Gabriel waited. “Have you finished?”

  Crane nodded and lowered his head as though waiting to be given an order, to receive his instructions.

  “You are as deluded as your half-brother,” Gabriel said, pointing at Ralph Newman. “You have nothing. You offer nothing. If things are going to change – and they will – it can only happen when those who think as you do are gone for ever. And how ever many people you think you have brainwashed into following you, I guarantee not many of them will shed a tear for you when you are gone.” He dropped a hand onto Adam’s shoulder. “And Adam was right. I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

  A growl rose up from Crane’s throat and there was something murderous in his eyes – and even with Gabriel in such an aggressive mood, Rachel was suddenly afraid for their safety.

  “I’m very sorry you feel that way.” Crane’s voice was frighteningly calm. “You have badly underestimated me. I will show you what it means to be loved…”

  Holding up one hand, he reached across with his other and pressed a button on his brightly coloured wristwatch. A high-pitched alarm sounded. It was followed by the noise of other alarms – many thousands of them – which rose up from the streets seventy storeys below.

  “No!” Gabriel said.

  Rachel saw the look of horror on his face and realized that something terrible was happening.

  Crane nodded. “I will show you just how much I am loved.”

  Barbra Anderson unfolded the tablecloth and sat Eden and Tammy down on the grass. The earth seemed to tremble beneat
h them.

  They had not made it to the Flight Building. The crowds had been too dense and the children had been in danger of getting trampled, so they had stayed in Central Park.

  Bob Anderson stood near by. He had been watching Pastor Crane’s balloon journey on the big screens and had seen the gathering at the foot of the tower. There had been singing and banner-waving when the balloon had landed on the helipad high up on the glass building. He had felt a pang of regret that he wasn’t with the rest of them, especially when the swarm of bees had appeared, darkening the sky and covering the building like it was a gigantic hive.

  It had been a truly apocalyptic vision. A thing of biblical proportions, Bob had thought. The pastor had long promised such events, and now he was sending them the signal that meant they were to make the ultimate sacrifice. Bob had hoped things would turn out differently, but if the pastor told them to do it, then it must be the right thing to do.

  The sky was rolling now and darkening with purple and black clouds ready to burst, until all at once a warm rain began spitting down on everyone. With their damp clothes sticking to their bodies, a strange silence fell across the whole park.

  Bob looked again at the flashing red light on his Triple Wheeler’s watch, listened to the piercing beep-beep of the alarm and knew that the time had come.

  He sat down on the grass and hugged his children.

  “What’s happening, Daddy?” Eden asked.

  “Nothing to be scared of, big fella.”

  “Are we going to die?” Tammy asked.

  “Don’t be crazy, honey.” Bob squeezed her tight. “Pastor Crane wouldn’t let us die. We’re going to be reborn.”

  Barbra kissed and hugged her children. She then chastely kissed Bob on the lips and smiled at him. She opened the red lunch box on the cloth in front of her and took out the bottles. Then, along with thousands of other families gathered in the park around them, she began counting out the pills.

  On the screens above, Brother Jedediah’s huge, nervous and sweaty face appeared. He was speaking from a balcony a few floors up on the Flight Building, the Triple Wheel cameras trained on him. All around him the building was blackened by the swarm and the whole skyscraper vibrated with the collective buzzing of a billion bees.