Birth of the Alliance

by Alex Albrinck

  He could sense her resolve growing. All kinds of things could go wrong with that. But I've got nothing better to offer. Ready when you are.

  Will aimed at a spot near where his ancestor marched with the other Union soldiers, and blasted a bolt of Energy in that direction. The blast was tinted with a memory he added; those affected by the “explosion” would swear later that a small bit of gunpowder had discharged, knocking several men down and dizzying them. Will let his Energy Shield drop and flew at high speed toward Sebastian, whose head had predictably snapped in the direction of the explosion. His eyes now followed the invisible Will, leaving the scene just as Hope moved to perform her role.

  Will flew into the small grove of trees where Sebastian stood. The trees would hide the two Energy users from the thousands of troops marching by. He phased back to visibility just as he struck Sebastian at full speed. The two men flew through the air, landing some thirty feet away. Sebastian let out an audible exhalation of air as the wind was forced from his lungs, and Will rolled away and sprang to his feet. “Shouldn’t you be fetching Arthur’s slippers, Sebastian? This is straying rather far from home.”

  “Stark, Stark,” Sebastian tsked. “You’re both a traitorous fool and behind the times.” Sebastian winced as he stood, and he took several gulps of air to refill his lungs. “I’m not called Sebastian anymore. My name is Porthos. And our Leader now has plenty of people serving him, grateful for the opportunities he provides. My job lies not in collecting footwear, but finding traitors.” His eyes darkened. “It seems I’m doing a fine job today, too, seeing as how you’re here in front of me.”

  “Porthos?” Will tried to sound as if the name was a surprise. “What kind of a name is that?”

  “We decided to change the names our human parents provided us so long ago. I located a work of fiction, and was drawn to the characters. They, too, are armed with swords and protect their Leader from danger from those who would do him harm. It's called—”

  “The Three Musketeers,” Will replied. At Porthos’ look of surprise, Will snapped him a nasty grin. “I’ve heard of it. If your friends are copying your lead—and they must, being incapable of original thought, as they are—I suppose Victor is now called Athos, and Tacitus is now called Aramis. How’d I do?”

  Porthos blinked. “How… how did you know?”

  “I read, you old fool. Once you’d given me the idea, it wasn’t difficult to figure out which of you clowns fit each name. And Arthur’s just called Leader now? How modest of him… and how fiendishly unimaginative."

  “The Leader,” Porthos hissed. “Show some respect to the man. There is only one.”

  “We can all thank our lucky stars for that,” Will replied. The two men circled each other, wary, each with a different goal. Will merely wished to escape—or so Porthos thought. Porthos wanted to distract Will until his friends arrived. Will was happy to oblige, confident he’d be able to escape whatever the trio might throw his way. “So… what brings you here? Sightseeing, I suppose?”

  Porthos edged closer. “I sensed a major Energy disturbance. I didn't recognize it, but it was powerful, the type of person I keep track of and hunt down. Alas, I supposed it was just you after all. But that’s okay. The Leader will be happy to see you imprisoned. I’ll put in a good word for you.” He paused a moment, as if deep in thought, and then shook his head. “Nah, scratch that. I’ll tell him you’ve broken a bunch of rules and maybe he’ll lengthen your sentence.”

  “You seem to be forgetting something, Porthos,” Will sneered. “You have to catch me first.”

  Porthos smiled, the sinister look traveling to his eyes. “Naturally.”

  Will’s Energy senses detected the arrivals of the renamed Athos and Aramis in the woods before he saw them.

  “Will Stark?” Aramis said; his eyes wide with surprise. He reached for the hat on his head and removed a battered collection of papers. "Oh, this is a sensational find, Porthos! Will Stark, Will Stark… I’m sure you’ve broken more rules than anyone. I’ll have to look them up just to be sure, however.”

  “Put your hat back on, Aramis,” Athos snapped. “We don’t have time for that now. We need to subdue the traitor first, then pronounce the charges, remember? Subdue first. Especially this one. We need you for that more than list checking.”

  Will feigned walking away. “If you guys don’t need me, I’ll just be going, then.”

  Aramis rushed the papers back inside his hat and donned it once more, looking disappointed. “The party’s just started, Stark.” He smiled. “This won’t hurt a bit.”

  He teleported to Will’s side, but Will moved two steps toward the spot Aramis had vacated, turned, and blasted Aramis with Energy. Aramis preferred to approach his victims from behind, and Will had used that knowledge against the man. “You’re right, Aramis. For once. I didn’t feel a thing.”

  Aramis crashed into a tree and shouted in pain, but the sound was drowned out by the sounds erupting outside their grove of trees. The fight for Gettysburg had begun, and even in that secluded air the sounds of cannon and gunfire were deafening, the smoke and haze adding even more cover to the smaller battle off to the side. The air filled with the scent of gunpowder and blood and death.

  Athos and Porthos, too close to their target to teleport, both dove for Will. Will leaped into the air, a jump aided by Energy, and watched the two men crash into each other. “You guys really aren’t very good at this, are you?” Will taunted. “How in the world do expect to catch anyone if you keep crashing into each other?” He glanced to the tree behind him, where Aramis was struggling to his feet. “Or getting thrown into trees? Not the brightest approach.”

  Aramis shook himself off and teleported directly behind Will, and his now-adult hands seized Will around the neck. “This is how we catch criminals,” he hissed, squeezing.

  Will felt the Damper start to take effect; felt the all-too-familiar sensation of having the wind knocked from his lungs spreading. But he knew that, to a degree, it was illusory. Aramis’ gift worked only the special Energy unleashed by the Aliomenti and Alliance; it had no actual effect on his body or his mind. Will reminded himself of this fact as he summoned the strength to reach up, seize Aramis' right forearm, and hurl the man over his shoulder to the ground. Aramis crumbled there, dazed after the second hard hit he’d suffered at Will’s hands. “Like I said,” Will said, his breathing steadying, his Energy surging back to normal levels. “You’re just not good enough.”

  Athos and Porthos were beside him in an instant, each seizing an arm. Will phased out, losing his tangibility and with it, his captors. He elevated into the air, and then accelerated upward, soaring into the sky, past the cannon and guns and stench of death. The Aliomenti did not follow. Instead, it was Athos’ telepathic voice that chased him. The Hunters always get their man, Will Stark. You may run, you may fly, you may teleport far away… but you can't hide from us forever.

  Will snorted, ensuring the sentiment transferred to Athos. I say you’re wrong.

  He flew south at a high speed, landing several minutes later roughly ten miles from the field of battle. Even at this distance, he could still hear the sound of cannon firing, and winced. The bloodshed would be awful. His only relief was that his great-something grandfather and Hope were well away from the melee, and would avoid damage from the weapons operating with such horrific efficiency that day.

  Will felt the burst of Energy as the three Hunters materialized out of the air near him, and Aramis managed to make contact before Will could react. Will didn't hesitate, teleporting away before the Damper had a chance to take full effect. He teleported back to the tree grove near the field of battle to get separation from the Hunters, and then soared back into the sky. At this point, he needed to get far enough away from the Hunters, needed to teleport somewhere they couldn't track him.

  He thought for a moment, recalling Adam’s insights into the approach the Hunters took when tracking their victims. Adam had told him that the trio were spe
cifically trained at long-range teleportation, and would track and teleport in hops after a suspect until their victim was too worn down to move further. Did they want to engage in a chase with Will using teleportation? He found the mere idea strange. The Hunters were fools, but they weren’t stupid; they knew they couldn’t travel as far as he could.

  Perhaps, though, they weren’t planning to chase him at high speed. Teleportation used vast amounts of Energy, and left markers on both sides of the hop. Porthos could track those markers at his leisure, and the Hunters could rest themselves, progressing slowly, until Will stopped moving. They’d count on him thinking he was clear, and then appear without warning and try capturing him again. Would that be their approach for dealing with him?

  The ability to track, regardless of the speed chosen for pursuit, could work to Will’s advantage. He had the ability to travel long distances, and quickly, without using Energy. But he could use his Energy to set a false trail as he’d done before.

  Will encased himself in nanos and let the tiny devices handle flying duties, turning himself due west and accelerating until he was moving at hundreds of miles per hour. He let small bursts of Energy escape every five minutes or so, simulating a long series of teleportation hops moving away from Gettysburg and Hope, away from the Atlantic and the submarine he’d use to return to the Cavern. The bursts of Energy would give Porthos something to chase. After an hour, Will stopped and set foot near a stream. The air here was clear and fresh, with no hint of gunpowder or imminent death, and he relaxed for a moment, enjoying the peace, the tranquility, the safety.

  He drank his fill of the fresh, clean water, allowing the cool water to chill his insides, and then he hopped into the stream with a splash, springing out a moment later with a gasp of laughter. He let forth a strong burst of Energy to dry his hair, skin, and clothes, and to leave Porthos a marker indicative of a massive teleportation effort hop. He then put up his Energy Shield, reassembled the nano-based flying suit, and soared once more into the air. Will veered northeast for fifteen minutes, ensuring there was no chance for visual contact with the Hunters, and then resumed his high speed flight back to the east. His Shield would ensure he’d be invisible to Porthos’ skill during that journey.

  He flew until he reached the Atlantic, and then reoriented himself on Gettysburg. It was now twilight, and the sounds of the battle were gone, replaced by the stink of decay and death. Cannon and rifle smoke still littered the air with a hazy veil, as if begging him not to look at what men had done to each other on the ground below. But he did look. The dead littered the ground and the blood of the injured soaked the landscape. Will listened carefully, not with his ears, but with his Energy senses, listening for the flute-like sound of Hope's Energy. He walked around, unafraid of any Aliomenti presence. Discovery by the Hunters was a moot point now; his focus was solely on ensuring her safety.

  Ten minutes later, he finally detected the sound he so longed to hear, only two miles from the battlefield. He found Hope there, alone and pacing, an anxious look on her face. Her expression turned to joy when she saw him appear next to her. She raced to embrace him.

  “I was worried that they’d gotten you,” she whispered.

  “I was worried that they’d gotten you,” he replied. In a sense, the words from both were lies; the telepathic bond between the two was far too strong for death or an injury to go unnoticed. It was part of the game they chose to play, part of pretending to be human to make living among humans easier. “There were more threats here than what I faced. Stray bullet, stray cannon shot, crazed lunatic with a bayonet…”

  She smacked his arm. It hadn’t hurt, nor had she meant it to cause pain. “Not much of a gentleman, are you? Leaving while a war rages around me to take off on a pleasure flight…”

  “It’s not like the company was pleasant. Thankfully, we didn’t get the chance to talk much.”

  She laughed. “Where are they?”

  “Chasing a shadow, but thankfully not the shadow. I’d recommend keeping the Energy use low for a while. I’m staying Energy silent until I get back to the submarine. I’m hoping they’ll think I vanished into nothingness, or that they’ll keep looking five hundred miles to the west. In either case, we’re likely to be gone from this place before they get back.”

  She nodded. She needed to leave as well, to return home to her home Outside. “Your many-times grandfather was honorably discharged. The fake explosion cracked a few ribs, rendering him unfit for duty. He can’t lift the cannon shot, can’t help haul the device, so he’s useless as a soldier. He’ll be leaving for Boston in a few days once the pain lessens a bit. I'll follow him to be certain he arrives in no worse condition than what he’s suffering through now.”

  “That’s a relief. Boston should be a safe place until the war winds down.”

  She nodded, embraced him in a tight grip. “Take care of yourself. Sounds like they’re still eager to capture you.”

  “I'm always careful,” he replied. “But they do outnumber me. Extra caution would be wise.” He stepped back to get a better look at her. “Do you have any idea when you’ll be able to return home?”

  She shook her head, looking wistful at the thought of a return to the Cavern, a return to her current family. “If what you say is true, I’ll probably be able to come back in a year or so, once he gets healed up and settled back on his farm. While the diary isn’t always detailed, it usually gives me several years’ warning of critical events so that I’m in position to act. There’s nothing coming up after this. Nothing yet reported, at least.”

  “I look forward to seeing you again, soon,” Will replied. “At home.” After an embrace and a kiss, they separated, and she walked away.

  Will watched her walk away, until the haze and darkness combined to hide her from even his enhanced eyesight. Then he turned to walk in the other direction.

  Adam stood there, staring at him. “Who was she?”

  “What are you doing here?” Will asked. They weren’t due to speak for another year.

  “We didn’t agree on a place to meet. I decided to track you down so we could correct that oversight.” Adam’s voice was tinged with sarcasm. “Who was she, Will?”

  “Why are you here, Adam?”

  “The Hunters contacted Headquarters. They said Porthos had detected an Energy surge, that Porthos couldn’t identify who’d generated it. Porthos later said it had been you all along, and that they were chasing you in an attempt to capture. I don’t think so, Will. Porthos isn’t capable of making that type of mistake. He wouldn’t misidentify a neophyte, let alone you. Someone else was here. Someone powerful. Someone Porthos doesn’t know. That means it’s not someone who escaped from the Aliomenti. And it’s someone you acted to protect. I can speculate as to who it is, Will, or you can just tell me.”

  Will met Adam’s level gaze. “Speculate, then.”

  “It might be a special young woman. One so mistreated in her youth by her own community that her very life was at stake. A young woman whose life was so important that it needed saving by any means necessary, by someone who knew her future importance.” Adam looked away. “In other words, the woman you protected from capture and identification earlier today was someone I knew as Elizabeth Lowell, wasn’t she?” He returned his steely gaze to Will. “You’ve been protecting her since you arrived at the North Village all those centuries ago. You knew she was important because her present was your past. You arrived in our midst from the future, didn’t you?” His last question was spoken with little evidence of a questioning tone.

  Will studied Adam’s face, searching for any sign of doubt. He found nothing. “So you figured it out.”

  Adam nodded. Will noted a slight indication of relief in the gesture. “Nobody can predict future events with that degree of accuracy, Will. After listening to those predictions and hearing about the technology your group is developing, after noticing how the innovations you offered seemed to show up in human society a few centuries after you’d help
ed bring them to life… it was the only conclusion possible. And I still struggle to believe it, even now, even as you refuse to deny the truth of my statement.”

  Will looked away. “It’s true, Adam. Now that you know, the assistance I must ask of you will make sense. Or, at least, it will make more sense than it would have before you accepted the truth about my origin.”

  Adam nodded. “Of course. What do you need me to do?”

  Will gave his answer some thought before responding.

  “I need you to ensure that my children are born, and that I live long enough to make that trip to the past.”

  Adam hid any confusion about that statement as only a man nine centuries in age could. His face took on a somber look, but one of deep resolution as well. And he nodded his assent.

  XIII

  Control

  1918 A.D.

  Adam found the name of the Alliance headquarter city—the Cavern—to be ironic. He walked the streets, on his way to a meeting with Will and others. Sunlight brightened his path. A light breeze touched his youthful face, his appearance a mask for the centuries he’d lived. The sky overhead was a deep blue. Fluffy white clouds moved slowly toward the horizon. The air was fresh and clean, lacking the smoke and ash so common in the large human cities he frequented, and he found himself breathing more deeply than necessary for the sheer joy of air he could only describe as delicious.

  He was walking outside on a beautiful spring day, yet he’d been told repeatedly that he was doing so miles underground.

  Adam had willingly accepted the sleeping agents Will used for each of Adam’s visits to the Cavern. Adam’s restful trips to the Cavern every half-decade or so prevented him from revealing to Arthur and other Aliomenti the secret location. It was a secret Adam would never willingly share, yet in a world full of powerful telepaths, even a random stray thought could prove treacherous.

  He glanced up at the “sky.” Will had explained that they’d created a special type of paint to cover the walls, a paint capable of trapping Energy inside the Cavern. Porthos himself could walk directly above the city and not sense their presence. Small devices capable of displaying mirrors gave the illusion of sky and moving clouds. Machines generated breezes. Other machines generated rainfall, roughly every other evening, when most residents were fast asleep; the water fed the abundant foliage and tree life underground. The sunlight wasn’t sunlight, but created by devices like the light bulb invented by Edison. All of these advances served to simulate a natural environment in a most unnatural locale.