Doc hesitated. "Perhaps, but you may be thinking of it backward. David said the Cimerians are inhabited by the Vanished Ones. The Vanished Ones are phantoms from another dimension. So, you may be right, Maggie. Perhaps the geyser is where the Cimerian draws his dark matter from.” He paused, staring at his hands.
Maggie wished she could hear his thoughts. Finally, he looked up at her again.
“Come at it from the opposite direction. These phantoms from other dimensions prey upon the weak minded: the Vanished Ones, who couldn't deal with collective life. That they entered the collective at all shows they were already weak minded. They couldn't sustain their own individuality. They fell away from the collective as well. The phantoms reached out to them, giving them third option. They now inhabit their bodies. So, the Cimerian, or what inhabits him, comes from that other dimension. Perhaps it isn’t so much the human man drawing on energy, but rather than phantoms, using resources from their own dimension."
Doc sat back, relaxing his shoulders. Maggie heard a distinct pop as he straightened his spine. His eyes studied the opposite wall, though he didn't truly see it. Maggie had seen him this way before. As his brilliant, logical mind began working through a problem, and he made connections, he would just keep going, rambling about how things fit together. She remained silent, eager to hear what he came up with.
"It makes sense as well," he went on now, "because if the only way for these phantoms to inhabit bodies is through collective drones, it’s in their best interest to help the collective take over the world. Among the collectivists, only a small percentage of the drones become Vanished. The more people there are within the collective, the higher number of bodies included in the small percentage. There might be thousands of these phantoms wanting bodies."
Maggie shivered, wishing she knew how to feel about these phantoms Doc and David kept talking about. "Sounds like a ghost story."
Doc gave her a sad smile. “I wish it were. If these phantoms could simply take individuals, we’d have seen it happen already. You could argue that defeating the collectives will, by default, also defeat the phantoms. We must keep our minds on our main objective."
Maggie nodded, knowing he was right. Eclipse tomorrow. Ghost stories later.
"So, what’s your theory, Maggie?" Doc raised an eyebrow at her. “Have you figured out how to use dark matter to disrupt the corridor of energy tomorrow?”
Maggie shrugged uncomfortably. Even thinking about her dark matter abilities made her antsy. "Ever since seeing that vision of the dark lands, I’ve felt traces of something similar, out there in the sky. I think I'm feeling dark matter. I recognize it now."
"Ah," Doc said quietly. The quiet wisdom and utter resignation in his voice scared Maggie. As though he'd hit some major realization, and she didn’t think she wanted to hear it.
"Recognizing it is a necessary step,” Doc said. “If you need it to defeat the collectives."
"And if I use it?" Maggie asked. "If the Cimerian is evil, and these phantoms are evil, and they both use dark matter, shouldn't we be afraid to use it?"
"That, I cannot answer for you," Doc said. "I think you're right to be cautious. Honestly, I would prefer we all stay away from it entirely, but it sounds to me like it will be necessary to defeat the collectives. Only you have the ability to do so."
Maggie grasped her elbows, feeling cold.
Doc stood and came around the bed to stand in front of her. “I know it frightens you, Maggie," Doc said. "For me, it makes the prophecy more understandable. We've always wondered what exactly your role comprises, what exactly made you different from of every other member the team. Finding things like this, that only you can do, will surely be part of it."
Maggie nodded. She wished she didn't feel so much fear. She wished she had as much confidence in herself and the prophecy as Doc seemed to. The eclipse would happen hours from now, and she had no idea if she'd be able to keep humanity free. Her stomach twisted into painful knots at the thought.
"Besides, if anyone can figure this out and not let it affect who they are, it’s you.” He smiled reassuringly.
Maggie returned the smile without feeling it.
“I wish I could be more help," Doc put a hand on her shoulder. "None of us can practice with you, or help you in any way, because we don't have dark matter abilities. The only advice I can give is to follow your instincts. You're skilled at that. I believe when you get there and sense the dark matter, you’ll know what to do with it."
Memory stirred, and Maggie cocked her head to one side.
Doc watched her expectantly.
"You know,” she said. “In my vision of Clay, he said I already had everything I needed to win against the collectives. I didn't know what he meant. Still don’t. It doesn't make sense anyway. If it was a memory, he said it in the past, long before these extra abilities emerged. Even in terms of the sequence, I didn't see the dark lands until after I saw Clay."
“I can’t explain it either, Maggie. I’m sure there’s something very significant about the conversation between you and Clay. I don't know where it took place, but perhaps time is fluid there."
Maggie raised an eyebrow. "Why would time be fluid for Clay? He's not a Traveler."
"I have no idea. I'm just theorizing."
Maggie hesitated. “You don’t think I could be communicating with Clay telepathically, could I?”
Doc raised an eyebrow at her. “You mean now? Like he’s talking to you while lying here in medical?”
Maggie frowned. “I suppose it’s a dumb idea.”
“No,” Doc said gently. “But he has no brain activity. It’s not possible. Besides, even if you absorbed a telepathic ability, Clay isn’t one, and doesn’t have the ability to absorb, as you do.”
Maggie nodded, wishing they could figure out even a small part of the mysteries swirling around them. It would have made her feel better, if only marginally.
"You need to go get some sleep, Maggie."
"You should sleep too," she said.
"I should," he agreed. "But I probably won't. I truly can't sleep, Maggie. As long as I'm awake, I prefer to be by my brother’s side. It will be the final time, after all. And remember, I'm not going on the mission. I’ll simply listen in."
Maggie nodded. Under other circumstances she might have tried to persuade him to go to bed, but not tonight.
"Thank you for speaking with me Doc."
"I'm sorry I couldn't be more help."
No," she said. "You were helpful. More than you realize." It had been a lie when she first began the sentence. By the time she reached the end, she realized it was true. Her stomach still felt queasy when she thought about the coming eclipse, but she also felt marginally more confident than she had before entering medical. In fact, she felt like she might actually be able to sleep.
As she reached the door of medical, she nearly ran into solid wall, catching herself just in time. The wall was Marcus. She’d nearly walked directly into his chest as he came around the corner.
“You’re still here,” she said, not at all unhappy to see him.”
“Yeah. Thought I’d wait.”
She took his hand and they padded softly through the sand-filled corridors of Interchron.
Chapter 33: The Binding
I told Adaiah to hide in that shelter beneath the house we made for emergencies. I knew she’d be safe barricaded in there until I got rid of the threat. She protested, but I insisted, and she finally went.
I walked out onto my front porch to find twenty dark silhouettes in my yard, standing like ominous trees beneath the silent stars. The moon behind them made it difficult to discern details, but I could tell they were a mixture of men and women. Those standing closest to the house were visible in the light coming from my study. I recognized a few faces from the public meeting. The meeting that turned Bart against me for good.
Winter is late this year. We’ve had no snow yet. Still, the air was frigid, and I could see little puffs of air coming
from each of the intruders, as though to prove they were living things.
One face I recognized above all. Bart stood at the front of the group, closest to our porch. He glared toward me icily. My heart pounded in my chest, yet I made sure to look and sound calm outwardly.
" Have you decided to come home, Bart?" I asked, already knowing the answer.
Bart chuckled darkly. "Wishful thinking, Johann. We are here to collect you. All of you."
My heart accelerated. It grew so loud, I could barely hear the sound of my own voice. "Collect me? What does that mean?"
"You will join the union. Understanding of its superiority will come once you get there. This is not a request."
I tried to swallow past the fear in my throat, not truly succeeding. Taking a deep breath, I seized upon my own neurochemical abilities and finished the last part of the Binding to link Bart, standing angrily on my lawn, to myself and Nat. If Bart noticed any change, he gave no sign.
That done, I felt better. Yet, I still had a mob of malevolent strangers on my property. I forced myself to step forward, making my voice calm. "So, you will force something on us we do not want? You steal our freedom, no matter our wishes?"
Bart stared levelly at me. The smug grins and appreciative chuckles among the intruders in my yard was answer enough.
"You must know I will not let that happen, Bart," I said. “I have ways of fighting you."
"I'm sure you do, Johann. We can guard against those.”
A noise came from behind me. The sound of footsteps on my wooden porch. I turned in time to see a dark figure coming toward me, arm raised above his head and something long and solid in his hand. He brought it down directly between my eyes before I could react.
Something solid crushed my arm against my torso, deadening it. I opened my eyes to find the dark figure—a man with a wooden club, as it turned out—hovering over me. Voices echoed in my ears, difficult to make out. Someone mentioned unconsciousness. I think they remarked that I couldn't fight them if I wasn’t conscious.
As my vision slowly cleared, I realized everything had paused. The silhouettes stood in the yard, unmoving. I’d have known if they’d tried to Drill me. They hadn't begun. The man who’d hit me stared at something in the yard.
After a moment, I shook myself and pushed up on one elbow. A group of collectivists huddled around something lying on the ground. I already knew what it was. Bart. While I’d raised my arm against my attacker, mostly out of instinct, I’d suspected I might need to take injury for Bart to fully grasp what I’d accomplished with the Binding. I'd prayed his first blow wouldn't kill me. It would've killed him too, but I’d still be dead, leaving Adaiah a widow.
My gamble had proven correct. The Unions have no interest in taking life. They want to control people, and no one can control corpse. Their objective is to enslave, not murder.
My head ached. I feared if I tried to get my feet, I’d simply collapse again. Minutes ticked by as the intruders in my yard murmured amongst one another. Eventually, two people helped Bart to his feet. He looked as poleaxed as I felt. He staggered toward me, leaning heavily on his two assistants.
"What have you done, Johann? How have you done this? I felt it but I…" His voice dropped to a whisper. "What have you done?"
"Only what I had to," I muttered. My voice sounded high and easily. Not strong and firm as I’d have liked. Probably a result of the injury, but humiliating nonetheless. "I needed to protect myself. And Adaiah."
"I would never hurt Adaiah! If you made her part of this link, you wasted your effort."
"Yet," I said, rising jerkily to my knees. "You saw no problem hurting me, and I've no doubt you would have done the same to Nat. The three of us are jointed together, Bart. Any harm inflicted upon me or Nat will be inflicted on you as well."
Bart's eyes narrowed. His mouth pressed into a thin line. "We can still Drill you. It won’t cease your bodily functions."
I felt a momentary stab of fear. I thought I knew the answer to this one. I felt confident in my research, yet a small possibility remained that I might be wrong.
"True," I told him. "But the way the Unions attach the unwilling to themselves is vastly different than the way they attack the willing, isn't it? The willing are allowed more freedom, and the ability to rise in the ranks. You’ll never accept that level of immobilization. You only wish to inflict it upon others. You will not Drill me and risk the damage it would do to your own mind."
I held my breath, waiting for Bart's response. The entire yard held its breath. So quiet, the weight of it pressed against my eardrums. Even the night creatures and the wind lay still, waiting for Bart's answer.
Seeming to find new strength, Bart slapped away the arms of those holding him upright and straightened his spine. "You have won this round Johann, but you’ll lose the war."
His statement made fear bloom in my stomach. I couldn’t have said why. My instinct was to give a flippant retort. Something about it being ridiculous for him to talk about a war simply because the two of us didn’t see eye to eye. Yet something in his tone, his confidence, chilled my blood. I felt as though I needed to say something to smooth things over. As if he truly could start a war and I needed to stop it preemptively.
Bart opened his mouth to say more. I never heard what he meant to say. Voices floated into the yard from up the street, along with lanterns that cut through the darkness. I didn't know how help had come, but suspected Adaiah lay behind it. I asked later and found out she’d contacted Nat using her neurochemical abilities. Something she, Nat and I have practiced extensively.
The collectivist intruders scattered, their figures evaporating into the shadows as they moved away on swift, silent feet. Bart stalked out of the yard as I struggled to rise. After the initial spell of dizziness faded, I lunged after him, my head growing clearer with each step…
Chapter 34: A Wormhole’s Signature
Day of the Eclipse
Maggie made her way toward the entrance to Interchron slowly. She purposely dallied because she knew Marcus would catch up with her and she wanted to wait for him.
“Maggie.”
David came up behind her and her nervousness instantly increased. If Marcus saw them alone together, he’d be angry, and this wasn’t the time for him and David to be fighting.
As though reading her thoughts, David waved a hand dismissively. “I’ll be quick. I just wanted to give you something.”
He dug a hand into his pocket and pulled out a small, dingy gold ring. Maggie instantly recognized it. She’d taken that same ring with her to the island in the Pacific where Clay died.
Just as before, David was suggesting she use it as a conduit stone. The problem was that pure elements, like gold, were unstable, and therefore unpredictable. The ring was dingy and dull, but the gold that made it up was pure.
Maggie stepped back. “I…don’t know if that’s a good idea, David.”
“I want you to take it, Maggie. Just in case. It could be a great help to you. It certainly was on the island.”
“I nearly got us all killed using it on that island,” Maggie objected. “Because I didn’t know how to control it. Besides,” she swallowed a pang of sadness. “It’s not like it saved Clay.”
“You can control it much better now than you did, then,” David said calmly. “Because you have your memories and know how. Besides, if you hadn’t had it on the island, more than Clay would be dead right now.”
Maggie still hesitated. Perhaps David was right.
“Please,” David held it out to her. “Just keep it in your pocket. If you don’t have occasion to use it, then don’t.”
Maggie sighed, but reached out and took the ring, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans.
“Thank you,” David said, looking relieved. “I’ll see you out there.” He walked past her to where the team would convene to Travel back to the Canyon.
Marcus appeared a few minutes later. They walked toward the southeast entrance of Interchron i
n silence, Maggie clutching Marcus’s hand tightly. The rest of the team joined them along the way, and they all moved forward together.
As they reached the final corridor that led to the exit from the mountain, they found a crowd waiting for them, lining both sides of the corridor. The people of Interchron had come to give them a sendoff.
Maggie didn’t know whether Doc had made the nature of the mission public—he wouldn’t have wanted to start a panic—but whether he had or not, these people knew. They knew the team was going to do battle for their freedom, and that of their children. They knew the mission would be hazardous and challenging. They’d come to show their support.
As the team moved down the corridor, the people on either side smiled at them, waved, and cried. Some reached out to shake hands briefly and say a few grateful or encouraging words.
Maggie wiped tears from her eyes and Marcus squeezed her hand.
Doc stepped out onto the slopes of the mountain with them. He took each team member’s hands in his, giving them a reassuring smile and a few confident words. When he reached Maggie, he hugged her. His frame felt frail in her grasp. “You’ll be fine, Maggie. You’ll figure it out. I believe you will.”
Maggie’s stomach twisted, but she also felt a rush of affection for the white-haired man and hugged him back tightly. “Couldn’t do without you, Doc.”
He pulled back and gave her a sad smile. “Ah, but you could.”
Then he turned away, leaving Maggie frowning after him.
What did that mean?
Maggie turned to find Marcus watching her. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck. He pressed his face into her neck.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he murmured against her skin.
“Oh, come on,” she pulled back with a smile and dropped her voice. “I’m the Executioner. That’s the whole point, isn’t it?”
Marcus tried to give her a stern look, but the corners of his mouth turned up. His hazel eyes—golden but flecked with a menagerie of colors—gazed down at her in a way she couldn’t quite define. Worry? Longing, perhaps.
Dark Matter (Interchron Book 3) Page 43
