The Crystal Tower

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The Crystal Tower Page 27

by Liam Donnelly


  Slowly, Trey’s mouth returned to normal. At first, his jaw was clearly out of alignment, but then his eyes flared briefly with the eerie blue light of his power, and it slotted back into place. Max breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Well,” Zatera said, his voice slowly returning to normal, “why don’t you call them, and we’ll find out?”

  Max pursed his lips. They once again curled upward into a thin, mocking smile. “Oh, we both know the time hasn’t come for that yet. But if you keep going the way you are…” Max took a breath and glanced up at the structure towering above him. “I’m quite sure it will.” Folding one arm across his chest, he rested his elbow on it and reached up with his hand, rubbing the black stubble that was now growing on his chin.

  Silence ensued—an unspoken stalemate. Then Max squinted as he felt the pressure of Zatera’s enormous psychic power prying at his mind. Max glared at him, watching as his eyes flared with blue light, and raised his hands to his temples. He pushed out with all the energy he could wield, protecting his thoughts. The last thing he wanted Zatera to know was that one of the others had already visited him—that She had already imbued him with enough strength to finish what he had set out to do. Zatera had clearly moved far beyond reason. Max knew that now, as he felt Zatera trying to rip his way through his own defenses, to see inside Max’s mind. No, once this was over they would be able to do nothing but imprison him. Unless…but he had no time to complete that thought.

  Max took a stark breath as Zatera pushed harder and his psychic defenses were almost breached. Both Daniel and Guang stepped forward, their eyes glowing with the same piercing light. Max took a step backward reflexively, and for a moment, he fought waves of dizziness. As something occurred to him, he stood up straight, and looked into Trey’s brimming eyes. Knowing Zatera’s defenses were now down too, Max reached out with rapid reflexes and, using his psychic vision, peered into his mind.

  Trey’s body reeled in shock at the unexpected attack. Max had only a second to see his thoughts, and he saw that Zatera’s mind was consumed with darkness: plans, oblique, heinous feelings, and the rapture of strange domination that was distant and alien to Max. However, he caught sight of one thing that troubled him greatly, and he knew immediately that it was an image from the future.

  In the image Max received, Jane was hiding in a darkened hallway, without her friends, being pursued by another powerful Ethereal who stalked the halls. No! She can’t fight him, Max thought desperately as he reeled back in shock.

  The psychic link was broken then, and a burst of blue light erupted for a second between the two of them, causing new ripples to spread along the shield’s surface.

  “You sent someone after her, didn’t you?”

  A moment passed and then, slowly, a filthy smile spread across Trey’s lips.

  Max turned his head upward and launched himself from the bridge at incredible speed. When he was a hundred feet in the air, he turned and faced the ground. Then, reaching for all the power he could find within himself, he dashed toward the city.

  ***

  Standing on the boardwalk, Claudia talked with her team, which had grown to include twenty people. They were planning to send another drone to what had quickly become an object of global concern. The tower had grown to enormous proportions; at the tip, it was approaching the cloud cover. She had watched it, astonished, as every time she turned away from it to take care of some task, she would turn back to see that it had once again grown taller. The last rays of sunlight glinted off its edges, though it had an almost shadow-like appearance from this far out. It seemed to Claudia as though something from another world had been dropped right onto the ocean.

  A stray thought crossed her mind then as she was once again awed by the sight of the object: we don’t have much time left. Her heartbeat quickened, and a hand automatically went to her chest. She didn’t know how she knew this, but after a moment of reflection, Claudia realized how obvious it was—this object, whatever it turned out to be, was not benign. Josh had hacked some military chatter, and she knew that the governments of the world had collectively decided to enact a very direct assault on the edifice, as all conventional attempts at communication with it had failed. Neither she, nor her team, had managed to ascertain what form that attack would take, but she silently prayed they would be successful. In her secret heart, though, she knew it would take something much more powerful—otherworldly, probably—to take down the tower, whatever its purpose was.

  ***

  Knowing that Ciara had to rest, and knowing that they all needed to recuperate just as much as she did, the four had found a quiet cafe on 42nd Street. Jane knew that Lucas and his contingent were unlikely to follow, so the group didn’t push Ciara’s remaining strength by venturing too far. They stopped at a cafe just a few hundred feet to the west of that location.

  As they approached it, Jane watched Ciara. She noticed that although Ciara was walking upright, the weariness brought on by the tranquilizing agent having faded from her body, she still glanced around with concern, scanning the area.

  As they reached the diner, Morris pushed open the door and walked inside. The others held back for a moment as he checked it. When he turned and nodded, they followed him inside. Jane looked around and saw only five other people inside the darkened interior. A couple sat on stools at a tall table on the right side, just in front of a hall with a sign behind them that read Exit. Straight ahead, at a barstool near the counter at the center, sat an elderly, disheveled man drinking a cup of coffee. Jane had stopped a few feet inside the door. She watched the waitress, who smiled while taking an order from a couple at a booth on the left side. Ciara passed her. When she had walked a few feet in front, she turned and looked over her shoulder.

  “Why didn’t we tell Max about Elliot, Ciara?” Jane asked.

  “I don’t know, Jane. So much was happening. I couldn’t even focus. He hasn’t gone far, though.”

  “Can you still sense him? Is he still following us?”

  Ciara sighed and glanced out through the windows that lined the front of the diner, where there were other large booths. “I’m not sure,” she replied. “He’s masking his presence more intently now.” She paused. Jane approached and stood at her side. Turning around, Jane looked out through the windows with Ciara. “He’s definitely out there, but he’s hiding.”

  “Maybe Max scared him off,” Morris said as he passed in front of them. Mike had already taken a seat in the last booth on their far left, next to the window, and Morris took a seat opposite him.

  Ciara frowned. “Maybe,” she said. With a trace of a wince, barely noticeable, she turned and walked to the table, sitting next to Mike.

  Jane followed and sat beside Morris. As she did, she noticed he was staring at her. She turned and looked into his eyes. For a moment, she was allowed to feel the love that had previously developed between them for so brief a time. She leaned in to rest her head against his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around her. She closed her eyes.

  When the waitress came, she seemed distant and glanced around the near empty diner as she took their orders. They all requested burgers and fries, except for Ciara, who asked for a salad. The waitress nodded, smiled as sincerely as she seemed able, and then left them alone. As she returned to the kitchen, the waitress passed the flat screen above her and stopped for a second. Then she said, “Increase volume.” Suddenly, the sound of a news report filled the room.

  Jane lifted her head and looked at the television, knowing it was something they needed to see. A woman with blonde hair was reporting from what looked like a wooden platform. Behind her was a beach. In the dim glow of approaching dusk, Jane could make out the glinting blue-white light of the bridge and the place where it met the sand. It sparkled, even in the fading light; indeed, energy seemed to be embedded within it, manifesting itself as twinkling lights along the surface.

  Jane sat up straight as Morris moved his arm back, but kept his hand on her sho
ulder. All four of them turned to the television and stared at; it was the first real-life image they had seen of the bridge that they knew the other, helpless Ethereals had used to reach the tower. The woman’s name was now displayed on the bottom of the screen: Claudia Gellar.

  “We’re still here…” the woman said. She glanced over her shoulder, then continued as she turned back around to face the camera. “At the Crystal Bridge. Although the flow of Ethereals outward across the ocean has stopped, all has not grown quiet just yet.”

  Jane listened intently, astonished by the image of the tower in the background. She couldn’t ignore the knot in her stomach, which was tightening with each passing second. She glanced at the service area and begged for their food to come. She even thought about reaching into the kitchen and using her telepathic abilities to coerce the chef to hurry, but instead, she focused on the news report.

  Now the woman was touching her finger to her in-ear monitor. “We’re receiving a report now. We have a drone in the area where the bridge ends and—” She stopped again, and across her face spread a ripple of fear, which she instantly quelled. “And where what can only be described as ‘the tower,’ made of some form of crystal, begins.” She paused again, listening to her in-ear monitor, then continued. “I have confirmation now. As you can see from the background image, the structure has grown to an astonishing height—stretching into the sky well over seventeen hundred feet by estimates we have received. The drone is revealing, however, that this object is still growing—and at a rapid pace.” The newscaster touched her in-ear monitor once more, then took a quick glance away from the camera before she continued. “We’re going to play the live feed from this drone. We don’t know how long the footage will last, as any of our drones approaching within a mile of the tower have been destroyed by unknown means.”

  On the screen, a live camera feed from the craft replaced the image of her face. “The zoom factor is high,” Claudia’s voice continued as the footage played, “so the image is somewhat obscured, but as stated, this object is still continuing its incredible growth.” Indeed, on the screen, the edges of the tower could be seen rising in a slightly circular pattern, as though the substance was caught in a vortex of water, moving in slow motion and rising. The crystal appeared first as a misty substance, then almost immediately became solid and twinkled in the dusk.

  Jane’s eyes widened with new fear as she realized how truly vast the edifice was, and the rate at which it was forming. The object on the screen, although represented by a grainy image, was enormous. Its sides rose toward each other so that it took on the rough shape of an elongated cone, and its diameter was becoming narrower as it grew toward some inevitable, final point. Still, even at the peak, where the mist-like substance was forming, Jane guessed that its diameter was almost equal to its height. She shared concerned glances with each of her friends. Then they all returned their attention to the screen. The two patrons who had at first been sitting quietly on the right side were now also watching the newscast. They began gathering their belongings, preparing to leave.

  “What this means for all of us, is yet unknown,” Claudia continued. The image from the drone was still displayed on the screen, but now, as the ever-growing tower neared the height at which the drone was hovering, the craft began to sway. Then, in the distance, a flat, reflective surface at the side of the tower lit up with bright golden-white light and an arc of blue energy—like lightning—struck out from that point in a jagged fashion. There was a flash, followed by static, and then Claudia’s feed resumed a few seconds later. For a moment, once again her face betrayed her fear, but then quickly she resumed the veneer of a professional reporter

  “OK. It seems as though the drone has been struck by some kind of energy discharge from the object. We have only a few left, and we’re not sure at this point what use they are to us. In response to this extremely unusual event, military action is expected shortly, though what form that will take is, as of yet, unknown. We presume that we will hear news of it soon. We have reached out to scientists across the planet, especially those involved in the investigation and advancement of our understanding of psychic phenomena, but they are just as perplexed as all of us. At this time, the structure’s purpose is anyone’s guess. However, given its response to the presence of our entirely benign recording devices, I, personally, can only conclude that it is malign in nature.”

  The waitress had stopped working and was staring at the television, transfixed by the report. She rubbed her exhausted face with her palms and blinked hard. With one more glance at the screen, she turned down the volume and returned to the kitchen.

  The four turned back to face each other. Jane, sitting on the outside, glanced across the table at Ciara, who was taking another look out the window at the darkening streets. Jane squinted, trying to imagine what her friend was thinking, or sensing, but was unable to do so. As of yet, there was no trace of any serious concern on Ciara’s face, and so Jane turned to Morris.

  “Maybe we should go down there. Walk right out onto that bridge and take him on,” he said flippantly.

  “Yeah, good idea. I’ll flash some light in his face and stun him,” Mike said, frowning.

  Ciara snickered. “Mike’s right. We can’t do that.”

  “Well, we can’t do nothing, either,” Morris said as he turned toward the window and looked out onto the street, placing his arm on the wooden frame there.

  Ciara sighed and glanced down at the table before looking up at Jane. “You remember what Max said: he wants you, Jane.” Ciara held her gaze firmly. I know something happened to you when you went inside that Machine, she said, deftly shifting to telepathic communication. I know there’s something different about you now. But my sense is that it’s not the right time to discuss it.

  Jane had placed her right palm flat on the table, and she glanced at it now. She flinched just slightly, as once again, when she gave it her focus, she felt that burning sensation coming from within. She avoided wincing at the pain and removed her hand from the table as discreetly as she could. Still glancing downward, Jane sensed that Ciara’s gaze was still on her. Not only that, Ciara had been looking at her hand, too, as Jane removed it. Jane knew how advanced Ciara’s psychic senses were, and more to the point, how much they had grown since they had left the facility. How much information had she already gleaned about the object the Rose had given Jane?

  At this point, Jane didn’t think it mattered much; she knew little about it herself, other than that it hurt her, especially when she got angry or expressed any kind of intense emotion. The only other thing—the thing she was afraid to admit, and wouldn’t admit—was that it was powerful. If she had taken a moment to be totally honest, she would have admitted to herself that it was indeed extremely powerful. She had already used it once to help stop the Ethereals who had been chasing them, but she was trying hard not to think about that, for it threatened to open new avenues of thought she had no wish to explore.

  Thankfully, at that moment, with Ciara still watching her, the waitress brought their food and set it down without a smile. Morris thanked her, and she walked away. Both Morris and Mike ate first, while Jane looked down at her plate, too caught up in her own thoughts to begin eating. She noticed Ciara finally begin to eat, and then Jane lifted the burger to her mouth and took a bite. She closed her eyes and savored the flavor. None of them had eaten for the better part of the day, not since Mike had begged them to pull over on the way to the city hours before, and most of the food was gone quickly.

  Just when Morris and Jane were about to take the remaining bites of their burgers, Ciara set down her fork and glanced out the window. Morris was lifting the last bite of food to his mouth when he glanced at her and stopped. “What is it?” he asked.

  For a moment, Ciara didn’t respond. Something’s wrong, she replied without looking back at them.

  They all stopped and turned their attention to the window. Morris stood and moved closer to the glass, s
taring out. Then, moving quickly, he turned, squeezed past Jane, and left the booth, walking past the few tables that lined the wall as he headed back toward the entrance. He grabbed a chair there, where he had a better view of the street. Then, without taking his eyes off the road, he spoke. You’re still protecting us from Zatera’s influence, aren’t you, Ciara?

  She leaned forward in the booth so that she had a better view of the street. Yes, but… something’s wrong. It’s not him. It’s— She squinted, struggling to find the words. It’s something else.

  Jane stood and turned around. Chills ran down her spine as she sensed what Ciara was referring to. What are you sensing, Morris?

  He took a moment to respond. It’s a physical presence where none should be. He glanced at her quickly, then returned his attention to the street.

  His tense body language caused Jane’s heart to beat faster, and she looked around the restaurant at the remaining patrons, suddenly concerned for their safety.

  It’s like, Morris continued, if we’re presuming it’s Elliot again, he’s masked his psychic presence perfectly, so he’s not detectable on the psychic plane. That’s where the problem lies; there’s a physical abnormality in the area…someone moving toward us. He looked back at Jane, his eyes wide with concern. I can feel it, Jane, I’m sure of it.

  I can feel it too, said Mike.

 

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