Birth of the Alliance

by Alex Albrinck

Will glanced around as well, wary of any potential Aliomenti traps. They’d little doubt that the Aliomenti had developed a strong presence in the newly minted United States of America in the twenty-seven years since Will and Charles had their encounter with Sebastian, Victor, and Tacitus. Travelers to the Outside heading for the former Colonies would need to be as wary of Aliomenti influence as those traveling to Europe. Training and testing for Shielding intensified; those in the Alliance needed to be prepared for potential encounters anywhere in the world at this point.

  Peter had chosen Philadelphia in part because Hope was stationed in the city. Her version of the diary from the future noted potential trouble for Will’s ancestors over the final four decades of the nineteenth century, during the war and the periodic instability which followed. It wasn’t uncommon for inexperienced Outsiders to make their homes in cities populated by other Alliance members, and Peter could choose no one better to have nearby than the woman he knew as the Shadow. The two men set out for Philadelphia on foot, wary and on alert for any sign of the Aliomenti. He also wanted to see what his city of origin looked like nearly eighty years after he’d departed.

  “I’m in shock,” Peter told Will as they walked. “How many people live here now?”

  “Around forty thousand,” Will replied.

  Peter let out a long whistle. “And you say that this revolution started here?”

  “I wouldn’t say it started here,” Will replied. “The first battles of the war happened elsewhere. But this is the city where the document that articulated the reasons for those battles was written.”

  Peter wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “I’ve not been here in eight decades and they’ve been doing things to make me proud.”

  Will chuckled. “Think of what they’ll be able to do now that you’re back.”

  Peter grinned. “Can’t wait.” He stopped and held out his hand as they neared the city limits. “Thanks, Will. For everything. Good luck with your latest project. I’ll see you in a few decades.”

  Will nodded, shaking Peter’s hand. The two men separated, each on their own paths.

  Will was once again in Philadelphia to act as an eyewitness to history, a history he'd played his part in creating. He'd been born in the United States and, while he'd not paid enough attention to world history in general, he had been fascinated by the young country's founding century and the women and men who'd helped in its creation. With his knowledge of history, the ability to travel far more quickly than the humans of the era, and the unique ability to protect himself from harm, he intended to be present for every critical event possible. That motivation had grown even stronger now that he had the means to record such events for posterity.

  He’d spent time in and around Boston, recording the battles at Lexington and Concord and Bunker Hill. He’d recorded Patrick Henry’s speech, where the man had requested liberty or death. He’d purchased a copy of Common Sense, located the author, and chatted with Thomas Paine for two hours. Paine had no way to know that the conversation was recorded for future history.

  He’d also set cameras and microphones in a building in Philadelphia where delegates crafted a document known as the Declaration of Independence, and had a passing conversation with a young man named Thomas Jefferson. Will managed to work the word “inalienable” into the dialogue, which seemed to make an impression on the future President.

  The diary, quiet for centuries, was active once more. It repeated stories of rumored statements made about George Washington, a man who would lead the ragtag Colonists against the professional, well-supplied British troops. Myths of “prophecies” that the man would never be hurt in battle, no matter how disastrous the circumstances. Will recalled stories of horses being shot from underneath Washington, of bullets missing his head by inches, and wondered why the diary felt the need to remind him of the prophecy.

  Then he understood.

  Will stalked Washington during the entirety of the war, ensuring that nothing harmed the commander-in-chief. Legends said that there were several near misses; Will knew, as he watched Cornwallis’ troops surrender at Yorktown, that there hadn’t been any near misses. Washington survived, as he was meant to survive, and retired to his home in Mount Vernon until his next call to serve arrived less than a decade later.

  The experience highlighted to Will the curse of his skills and knowledge. He spent the winter of 1777-1778 hiding near the American camp at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. He’d known that the winter had been rough, but until he experienced it firsthand, he’d not had the appreciation of the literal sacrifices made during that winter. Their clothing was meager at best, many went without shoes, and blankets were scarce. Will knew all of that would happen. Knew that it was meant to happen. And yet he had the money to properly outfit the troops, provide them with the supplies they need to survive the winter and win their war. He could easily generate the Energy required to warm the troops, eliminate the fatal illnesses they’d contract, but could do nothing lest he attract the attention of the Aliomenti, who’d eliminate the troops with far more effectiveness than the weather or their British counterparts.

  The suffering continued, and Will wondered why he must be so cursed with knowledge of the future. If he survived until 2030 in this form, he was eager to remember once more what it might be like to live his life without any true knowledge of what the future would bring; what it would be like to live his life in the wonder of the unknown.

  There was nothing he could do about it now, though.

  He was in Philadelphia in the late spring of 1787, here to watch Washington, his old friend Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and others in action. The men had been sent to Philadelphia to revise the Articles of Confederation, almost a treaty among the several states to provide mutual protection against outside attack. Trade between states, though, had become a mess, and the delegates were charged with finding ways to amend the Articles to resolve those disputes. Will intended to record the months of meetings that would result.

  The delegates wouldn’t arrive for another few weeks, and so Will planned to plant his cameras and microphones, and then scout for potential new Alliance recruits. Once the delegates arrived, he intended to observe each, learn about them, and record independent video and audio prior to the actual sessions and meetings. Once the Convention ended in a few months, he'd leave and return to the Cavern, check in on the progress of several projects, and return to the Colonies for follow-up visits on potential recruits in Boston and New York.

  Will headed in the direction of the Philadelphia State House. It had served as the meeting room for delegates debating and approving the Declaration of Independence, and was becoming better known as Independence Hall.

  Will, along with a few members of the Virginia delegation, were the only ones who knew something far more monumental would take place in this building than the drafting of a few amendments. The windows and doors of the meeting room would be locked despite the sweltering heat. Attendees were sworn to secrecy about the debates, positions, memorable lines, compromises, and votes. What was known of the proceedings in Will's time was based upon the few secret journals kept by attendees. Will wanted the full truth of the proceedings known, wanted to see how an assembled convention of delegates agreed to ignore their stated purpose and instead draft a new Constitution, and how they'd managed to overcome incredibly divisive topics to craft such a document.

  He knew he needed to return at night, when the building was unoccupied, in order to place the cameras and microphones in strategic locations throughout the meeting room. Depending upon the final seating locations of key speakers, he might well need to return regularly to adjust the positions of the devices. He'd spend time during their daytime deliberations in the Nautilus X, a single person submarine they'd built that had been designed for river travel. With its smaller size and "invisible" skin, he could pilot it at the bottom of the riverbeds without being seen or having the craft contact ships sailing overhead. He'd piloted the miniature sub up the Del
aware River to park it on the bottom of the Schuylkill River on a previous trip, and would spend his evening sleeping inside the vessel rather than locating a room within the town. The less of an impression he made here, the better.

  Will tensed. He sensed the flow of Energy nearby. Had Peter already forgotten to keep his shield activated? Or was the Energy he felt generated by Aliomenti stationed in Philadelphia as well?

  After ensuring his Shield was solid, Will headed toward the Energy signals he'd detected. As he approached, he was able to detect four unique Energy signals. Three were weak, likely neophytes recently recruited into the Aliomenti organization. The fourth signal was far stronger, and that was the signal that concerned him. He wasn't concerned about capture; he was concerned about recognition. With a signal of that strength, he could be recognized on sight, something that could happen no matter how vigorously he maintained his Shield. Thankfully, that signal was coming to him from a different direction and a respectable distance from the other three Energy users. He could check on the three neophytes in relative safety.

  He found the men a few moments later. While neophytes, they'd still likely lived as Aliomenti for a decade or more, and they wore the resultant financial success, literally. The clothing was of obviously higher quality than others walking the streets, and they were talking quietly among themselves. Will sent a small number of nanos into their midst and listened in to the conversation.

  They were discussing the possibility of purchasing or renting a building for business purposes, and Will suspected they'd set up the Aliomenti version of a bank if they were successful in obtaining their desired property. Will snorted internally; the Aliomenti would never fail to get something they wanted. The current renters would find themselves grateful for the opportunity to move on, the owner delighted at the chance to rent the property to the three men, at a reduced rate, of course.

  He also noticed the trio watching a man who stood selling copies of a local newspaper. He risked a quick Energy scan. The effort utilized just a small trickle of Energy, not enough for a neophyte to detect, but enough for Will to complete a very basic character scan of the man. It was amazing how quickly you could dive into someone’s deepest belief systems and test their compatibility with you. Most people had only a handful of beliefs embedded in them at their core, developed through life experiences, and from which they’d never deviate. Will’s recruiting involved doing such scans of large crowds and finding the small handful who held core beliefs compatible with the Alliance mindset; he could then delve deeper into them, talk to them, and test them to see if their personalities were compatible as well. By the time he asked their interest in joining, he knew them well enough to know they’d accept.

  The man holding the interest of the Aliomenti neophytes met Will’s criteria. But the Aliomenti were already tracking him as well. Perhaps they’d already started Arthur’s “hypnosis” process. The man might already be lost for good, just as much as the three neophytes.

  Will paused for a moment. He was standing in a city that had seen written, or would see written, some of the most pivotal documents in a nation's quest for independence, documents that would replace monarchs for elected leaders and freedom. Why not follow their example? His eyes returned to the three neophytes with a gleam. Will had no idea what Arthur had done to produce such complete obedience and loyalty in the Aliomenti. He intended to find out, though. And in so doing, he’d figure out how to reverse whatever “hypnosis” Arthur had performed, allowing all four men the chance to choose their homes, their futures, and their destinies

  Will gently reached out to the three neophytes, first pushing on them the sensation that their minds were not being probed. That was the tricky part. If they realized he was there and recognized what he was doing, they’d try to expel him from their minds. He could overpower them, but that action would counteract the point of what he wanted to do. Thankfully, none of them seemed to notice. They were discussing the potential recruit telepathically while making comments about the building out loud. Nothing suggested an awareness of a powerful Energy user poking in their minds.

  With that mental shield hiding him, Will plunged deep into their minds and memories, searching for the moment when Arthur had reshaped their minds, rendering them his own mental slaves. After several moments, he found what he was looking for. It was an area of the mind he was quite familiar with, where the unquestioned truths and beliefs by which they lived their lives were stored. It was the place where Will looked when assessing potential recruits, and it was the place where Arthur deposited beliefs in his own superiority, beliefs that his statements should be believed without doubt, beliefs that his suggestions and commands ought to be followed without question. In hindsight, Will could never remember an Aliomenti questioning Arthur; some asked for clarification, but he knew now that it was simply a case of ensuring they’d understood what they were to believe and do, not to question the truth or value of those statements or commands.

  It was simple, effective, brilliant… and completely antithetical to what Will believed in.

  The reversal process was simple. There was a brief temptation to simple “edit” those beliefs, replacing Arthur with Will, but he refused to go down that path. He had no interest in following the lead of Arthur Lowell. Instead, he deleted the beliefs, and elected to let the three men react as they naturally would. They might return to the Aliomenti Headquarters out of sheer habit. They might choose to live independently. They might even seek out Will to join the Alliance. The freedom was overwhelming them; they seemed lost, disoriented, and confused. Their thoughts were jumbled, wondering why they were in this strange city, why they were using their abilities to influence the stranger before them, why they were supposed to be looking for a man named Will Stark and trying to subdue him for return to Headquarters.

  Will stepped forward, a look of concern on his face. “Are you gentlemen okay?”

  “I'm… not sure,” one of them admitted, glancing at his peers. “I'm trying to locate a man who may be living in this city, as a… friend of ours has suggested he's done some sort of wrong. But I'm not sure if those accused actions are wrong.”

  Will frowned. “That does sound like a conundrum. Who are you looking for? Perhaps I know this man and can help you reach him. That would enable you to assess the situation for yourselves and act as you see fit.”

  “His name is Will Stark.”

  Will frowned. “Interesting. That's my name. I don't believe we've met before. You say there's someone who claims I've done them wrong?”

  Their eyes widened. “Well, he claims that you've told some of his secrets to people who shouldn't know them.”

  Will raised his eyes, as if trying to remember. “I don't share other people’s secrets. I share my own with those I believe worthy of that degree of trust. You say this man claims I’ve shared his secrets, something that was his and only his to share? What are these secrets he claims belong to him alone?"

  The speaker glanced around at the others, who shook their heads. “We can’t really say, not here anyway. But he says that you promised not to share.”

  Will arched an eyebrow. “Who did I make this promise with?”

  “He… doesn’t really have a name.”

  Will face registered astonishment, but internally, he filed this point away. Arthur must have started using the name “Leader.” “He has no name? Perhaps he doesn’t exist, then. Are the three of you trying to con me, after I offered my concern for your apparent disorientation?”

  “No!” All three spoke, before their leader continued. “It sounds confusing, I know, but I trust that our friend tells us the truth.” But there was doubt in his words.

  Will arched an eyebrow. “If you can’t tell me what the secret is, how can you determine the truth of the accusation? If you told me, wouldn’t you be able to make some assessment of my guilt or innocence? And if your friend has no name, or won’t share it with you… is he really a friend?”

  The speaker looked
as if he wanted to respond. Then he lowered his eyes to the ground. He’d apparently started to wonder about each of those points himself.

  Will turned. “I'm leaving. If we meet again, and you're able to tell me what I've supposedly done, with actual specifics and not vague statements made by someone with no name, please enlighten me. If you’ll excuse me, please.”

  He turned and left. This would be the biggest test of the reversal technique. If they hadn't been “cured,” then they'd try to follow him, they’d obey Arthur’s orders to try to capture Will. But if not…

  None of the Aliomenti neophytes followed. They'd listened to Will, found Arthur's story lacking… and made their own decisions. They’d not follow Arthur’s orders blindly, not any more.

  He'd done well.

  Will turned a corner… and stopped still at the sight of the man standing there.

  It was only when he saw the familiar face that he realized the strong Energy “sound” he'd heard earlier was a familiar one, one he'd not sensed in nearly ninety years. It was a face he'd suspected he'd one day see again… though after their most recent encounter, Will couldn’t be faulted for thinking that reunion would never occur.

  Will frowned, and folded his arms across his chest, glaring at a man who had publicly chosen Arthur Lowell's manipulations over the freedom Will offered and encouraged. “What do you want? And why are you here?”

  “My answer to both questions is the same, Will,” Adam replied. “I need to talk to you.”

  IX

  Intelligence

  1787 A.D.

  Will stared at Adam. “Why would I want to talk to you?” he demanded. “You're nothing more than one of Arthur's mindless minions. Did you come here hoping to capture me, and win even more favor with your dear leader?”

  Adam rolled his eyes. “Will, stop and think for a moment, would you? Have I ever struck you as someone who'd do what Arthur Lowell wanted me to do?”

  “Am I answering that question based on my experiences before or after you tried to sell me out? I may be old, but my memory is solid.”