by Mark Lingane
The ground shook and then erupted violently. A dark object exploded out of the ground. Sand cascaded off the object, showering the people below. And still it rose up. Everyone looked up at the ever-expanding arachnid in front of them. It unfolded like bad origami and let out a deafening roar, driving half the nearby victims to their knees.
Michael looked at Peter. “Do you think that’s what the building was changing into?”
Peter nodded.
“It’s really … big.”
Totally,” Peter said. “I might have to put Melanie down.”
The spider reared up. It towered dozens of yards into the air. It slammed down its front legs and narrowly missed Sebastian, who dived to the side. The spider paused in its demented movements and focused on him.
Sebastian stared up into the horrific face. Jets of flame sparked from the corners of the creature’s gigantic mouth, and a deep rumbling sounded from within. A foul gas rushed out of its mouth and Sebastian fought for air.
Then the jets ignited. Fire, white with intensity, erupted from the creature and engulfed him.
11
THE DEAFENING FIRE roared for an eternity. Its sudden cessation sucked the noise from the battlefield, and the combatants were left with their ears ringing in the silence. The smoke cleared, revealing Sebastian in a pale blue dome. The ground around him was charred a shiny dark brown. The sun glinted off the reflective surface of the dome, which disappeared a moment later.
Sebastian stood up and staggered backward, dazed.
“It doesn’t like you,” Andana shouted. His voice, plaintive and insipid, floated across the battlefield. Michael gave him a kick.
Peter passed Melanie to Michael and ran toward Sebastian. He grabbed him around the waist and threw him wide as the monstrous leg of the spider speared down into the ground. The ground cracked, sending caramelized sand skywards. Peter huddled against the attack as the deadly glass fragments rained down. He looked up to see the blue dome back again, this time surrounding both him and Sebastian, who had his eyes closed and his hands extended.
“That’s a mighty interesting trick you’ve got there,” Peter said as he stood up. He looked up at the giant enemy, which was repositioning itself for another attack.
“I don’t think I can do it again,” Sebastian croaked. He lay with his eyes closed, gasping for air.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Peter replied. “Try to get over to where the others are.”
Peter ran toward one of the rear legs of the spider and leapt up, clamping his arms and legs around the large cylinder. He shimmied his way up the leg until he disappeared from view.
Sebastian rolled over and attempted to drag himself away. He heard the jets ignite once again, followed by the smell of fetid gas. His head swam and he fought against the foul air, gasping for oxygen. Darkness started to wrap around him. There was a distant shout. He turned his head, and through blurred vision saw the great spider rock sideways. A fleet of zeppelins was charging in from the east.
The great ships turned and unleashed round after round of cannon fire into the beast. Light flared from above, followed by the telltale whistle of the molten metal searing through the sky.
The massive spider collapsed to its knees, then onto its body. It struggled to rise against the onslaught. It managed to lever one side off the ground, only to be hit so violently it was thrown onto its back. The legs and head rotated as the arachnid recalibrated itself into an upright position. Slowly it arose, sand tumbling from its body.
It turned to face Sebastian once more.
There was a great thud as one of the zeppelins landed. Sebastian heard the authoritative voice of Colonel Parker barking out commands, followed by the sound of artillery.
The spider shuffled forward, struggling to find solid footing. Its front legs collapsed. Peter dangled from wires hanging from the creature’s throat. He pulled them free and swung out of the way as the spider’s head crashed to the ground, throwing up a wave of sand. Peter swung wide and tumbled away as the rest of the spider smashed into the ground, lifeless.
Sebastian heard the sound of pounding feet and felt himself being lifted off the ground. He looked up into the reassuring face of Nikola.
“Come on, son, let’s get you home.”
The days came and went and Sebastian flowed in and out of consciousness. His body twitched as his dreams were filled with his recollections of the Hive. People came and looked at him with concerned expressions, and left with confused shrugs.
And time wound on.
A fly danced a demented journey across the room. The early-morning sun shone through the window, catching the dust motes lingering in the still air. Sebastian lay without moving. The doctor came, spoke to the visitor, then left.
The fly bounced off the window and fell onto Sebastian’s face. It walked slowly across his cheek and onto his nose. Sebastian twitched his nose, causing the fly to jump up onto his eyelid. He shook his head and groggily waved his hand over his face. He rolled over onto his back. He yawned and slowly blinked his eyes open. Albert’s face came into focus. He groaned.
“I’m not late for school, am I?”
“Nein.”
“Thank goodness for that.” He turned toward the window, closed his eyes, and felt the sun warm his face. His eyes shot open and he rolled back. “Then why are you in my room?”
“You’re in the hospital.”
He sat bolt upright. “Hospital?” Then the past caught up. He sagged and fell back into the pillows. “Hospital. Am I still in one piece?”
“Ja, your body is fine. You’ve been sleeping.”
“Sleeping,” he murmured. “There’s nothing like a couple hours’ extra sleep. What time is it?”
“You vere out for some time.”
“How long?” He closed his eyes.
“One hundred and thirty-six days.”
“Mmm. One hundred and …” his voice trailed off into a gentle mumble. His eyes shot open. “How long?”
“You’ve endured a lot, and ve have no idea how.”
“You mean with the big spider-thing? It didn’t seem too bad.”
Albert squinted at him. “The sand melted around you. That means the fire that flowed over you vas greater than 1,723 degrees Celsius.”
“Is that more than 451 Fahrenheit?”
“In unimportant ways, ja. We need to talk about vat vas going through your mind.”
“Can I get better first?”
“Nein. Science vaits for no man. There is much to discuss.”
There was a sharp rap on the door. It squeaked open and Nikola appeared. Sebastian’s face became a vision of joy.
“Good, you’re awake,” Nikola said. “Come on, there’s someone who’s desperate to see you.”
“I can’t move, I’m sick.”
“Only in the head; come.”
Sebastian rolled out of bed. He collapsed onto the floor, crying for help.
“Preferably without the dramatics.”
As sympathy was being ransomed by poor acting, he got up, dusted himself off, and made his way over to Nikola. His legs were unsteady, but quickly regained their strength as the blood flowed. He felt surprisingly well. He nodded to Albert as he left, hoping this meant he’d be able to avoid homework.
12
SEBASTIAN LIMPED ALONG beside Nikola down the white hospital corridor. A familiar-looking nurse nodded at him as they passed, her stern features relaxing momentarily as she recognized him.
He tried to look into Nikola’s face, but couldn’t make out any emotion. As always, Nikola was in military clothing, but now he wore it more casually, unbuttoned at the neck. The tarnished brass buttons had obviously been neglected. He wondered if Nikola owned any other kind of clothing; he hid so much behind the uniform. Now, it looked like the uniform was falling to pieces.
“I’m glad you’re better,” Sebastian said, breaking the awkward silence. “You looked so ill before. Those desert walkers are great people.”
“They were a revelation,” Nikola replied.
“Um, yes. Revelation. An unusual word to use.”
Nikola simply nodded. After several turns, he paused before a door. He reached toward Sebastian, and with some trepidation, placed his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. For the first time that day, he looked into Sebastian’s eyes.
“There is, after all that’s happened, some good news and some not-so-good news.” He opened the door to reveal the patient inside.
Sebastian’s mouth dropped open. Tears welled in his eyes and he rushed forward. The pale patient was wrapped in bandages, with blood seeping through at various points. She turned her head and gave him a weak smile as he approached.
“Mom,” he cried as he wrapped his arms around her.
She hugged him back, but seemed oddly unemotional. He climbed onto the bed and lay next to her, feeling his insides melt. Years of pent-up emotions rolled over him. Every fiber of his body felt the release; every atom glowed, lifting him, peeling away his worries and leaving him with a deep feeling of being complete.
He whispered, “Best. Day. Ever.”
“My, what a journey we’ve been on,” Isabelle rasped. Her voice was dry, and she was clearly having difficulty speaking. “Please, pass me the water.”
He held the glass to her lips as she drank deeply, closing her eyes as she swallowed. Pain flickered across her face, which she was slow to recover from.
“We sure are a long way from Talinga,” he said as he wiped away a tear. “Nikola said there’s some not-so-good news.”
She sighed. She opened her eyes and stared directly at him. “I’m not well, Sebastian. Not well at all.”
“Oh, Mom, please, not after everything that’s happened.”
She patted his hand. “Let’s not talk about it now. Tell me what you’ve been up to. You’ve grown so much.”
The two spoke at length, with Sebastian trying to contain his joy at being reunited with his mom. Eventually, her hand slipped off his arm, her eyes closed, and her head turned into the pillows. She drifted into a deep sleep.
The doctor entered the room and checked her pulse. He made a note in his file.
Afraid of the answer, Sebastian asked, “How sick is she?”
“The news is bad. All I can do is advise you to engage in as much quality time with her as you can. We did our best, but removing the cyborg elements from her body proved too much for her. She’s awake for a few hours a day. Make the most of that time.”
Sebastian wandered lonely as a cloud through the corridors until a familiar shout brought him back to the world. He ran forward and burst through a door. Melanie winced as she turned toward him, but her smile shone through the pain. She remained sitting on the window seat and beckoned him over. She held out her arms. He sauntered across the room, giving her a big smile. She wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder.
“They told me you’d finally woken up,” she said. “I told them you were always like this after any kind of exercise, but they didn’t listen.”
He felt her bones through the baggy jumper she was wearing. “You feel really thin. And you look pale.”
“It’s been tough. Unlike some, I didn’t get to sleep through the last six months.”
“Unlike some, who got an easy ride, I wasn’t unconscious through all the dangerous stuff. And there were spiders.”
“I’m okay with that.” She waved his recollection aside.
“Big, scary, metallic, deadly spiders.” He flapped his arms around and made a crawling motion toward her with one hand.
She slapped it away as it came close. “All right, I get the picture.” She folded her arms and glared at him.
“Then there was a humungous one, towering above—”
“I said all right. You don’t have to overdo it. I was going to say how good it was to see you, but then you started speaking.”
The doctor opened the door and came into the room. “Ah, Sebastian, I’ve given your mother an adrenaline injection and she’s responded well. She’s awake if you’d like to see her now.”
“Oh.” He looked hesitantly at Melanie, whose smile had dropped. He felt conflicted, wanting to be in two places at once.
“It’s all right, you can go,” Melanie said.
“It’s my mom; I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
She watched him disappear, then turned her attention to the doctor. “I suppose hanging around Sebastian won’t cure me from this.” She placed her hands on her stomach.
The doctor shook his head. “Not this time. The damage was extensive. It’s a minor miracle you’re even alive. From what Dr. Filbert’s told me, not everyone who was shot with those bullets was so lucky.”
There was silence as Melanie stared down at her feet.
He looked over his notes, flipping through the various pages. “Are you still seeing the counselor?”
She nodded. She withdrew her hands into the sleeves of her jumper and stared outside. A group of injured soldiers, mostly on crutches, were being shepherded around the courtyard by two nurses. The sounds of matronly discipline floated through the open window.
“Do you feel it’s helping?” the doctor asked.
“On some level. I need to talk, but I don’t know who could possibly understand.”
“Losing a child is always difficult, even if it is unborn.”
She turned away and stared at the floor, pulling her knees into her body. She dragged her sleeve across her eyes.
There was another knock on the door. The doctor called out and Peter entered the room.
Melanie gave him a big smile. “Come, my hero.” She reached up and wrapped her arms around him. He lifted her up and gave her a hug back. “Lead me astray through the heather,” she said.
“You’ll have to settle for a push in the wheelchair at speed through the corridors.”
“Good enough for me. You shall be my valiant steed.”
“It’s time for you to hand back the wheelchair,” the doctor told her. “You’re perfectly capable of walking out of here.”
“But this would be more fun.”
“Patients are complaining,” the doctor said sternly.
13
NIKOLA STRODE ACROSS the courtyard toward the administration building, which had been roped off for months. The ground vibrated gently and cracks ran up the sides of its cylindrical shape. He placed his hand against the wall and felt the tremor.
Colonel Parker greeted him at the entrance.
“It feels stronger,” Nikola said.
Parker nodded. “You need to see this. I think it’s bad, but I’m not totally certain.”
With a fair degree of difficulty, Parker opened the gate leading into the building; rubble that was piled up behind the door scraped across the floor. Both men stepped into the ruined remains of the building’s interior. Nikola looked up. Every single floor had been destroyed. The building was now an empty cylinder containing nothing except Omega, which stretched from the ceiling to the floor. The color of the lightning had changed from fierce white to a dark gray. The floor shook.
“Were you here when this happened?”
Parker shook his head. His eyes roamed over the debris as it continued to fall from the upper levels. “Should we be worried?”
“I’m guessing we should be terrified.”
The building shook violently and the men staggered sideways, desperately clutching the walls. Like startled birds, scraps of paper swirled around in the eddies, only to be incinerated when they drifted into the lightning.
“There’s more bad news,” Parker said. “I believe Number Two was in here when this happened. There might’ve been a deal going on between her and some unsavory types.”
“I wonder what that will do to the power structure. I’m sure Kerry Constantine will try to make the most of it.”
“How do we reconcile this with Number One?”
Nikola gave a half-hearted shrug. He was facing a shattered world, and he had
no answers. “Get Albert. He’ll know.”
“You sure?”
“He’d better.”
Albert looked around the ruined interior of the building forlornly, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He idly kicked a small brick, which tumbled off into the rubble.
“Is it bad?” Parker said.
“How could it be good?” Albert said. “If nothing else, it proves the messages are true. They said this would happen.”
There was another violent tremor and the men lurched sideways.
“There’s only one person who can help us understand what’s going on here,” Nikola said. “Get Sebastian.”
Parker turned to leave the building.
“You’d better tell him he’s not in trouble,” Nikola said. “Otherwise he’ll never come. Or he’ll get lost again.”
Peter grasped the handles and thrust the wheelchair around another corner. It slid sideways and rocked onto two wheels. Melanie shrieked, then laughed as her head brushed through the branches of an indoor plant. The wheels left two dark streaks of rubber on the pristine white floor.
“Uh-oh,” she said.
The nurse frowned at her. “You’re late for your counselor. And you don’t need to be in a wheelchair. We have patients in here who need them desperately, much more than you.”
Melanie gave the nurse her sad and injured look, clasping her hands to her body. The nurse failed to be moved. “Fine. I’ll go.” She grabbed the wheels and turned the chair around.
“Ah …”
“Okay, I’ll walk.” She got up out of the chair and rolled it over to Peter. “Could you park it for me, Peter?” She ran her hand down his arm and smiled at him before giving the nurse a stern look.
“I’ll be checking up on my father when you’re finished,” Peter called after her.
“You’re not helping her,” the nurse said, “participating in this kind of behavior.”
“She needs her life to have some point,” Peter said. “At the moment, she’s aimless. This is helping her.”
