Adam's Journey (The Aliomenti Saga - Book 8)

by Alex Albrinck

  He’d be the one taking Elizabeth into the Schola the next day, but he’d first change his physical appearance to match that of the villager originally slated to visit with the girl. It meant he’d need to make himself resemble the giant with sufficient precision to fool those who lived and interacted with the man each day.

  It meant he’d need to impersonate Maynard, the man who would, thirteen years into the future, thrust the sword he’d just cleaned into his mother’s back in an act of attempted murder.

  ~~~22~~~

  1008 A.D.

  He flew back to the time machine, dread coursing through him. Of all the people he’d need to impersonate in public… it had to be Maynard. As he closed the time machine lid, Adam shook his head and took a deep breath, letting the nano-based exoskeleton dissolve into the air around him.

  No one ever said this would be easy.

  After catching a few hours of sleep, he removed the stretchable mirror and set it on the seat beside him. He then rummaged through the food rations he’d brought along, opened one of the generic versions, and kept rummaging through as he ate. He found the two air-sealed food bags he needed for this stop on his journey, and set them next to the mirror. He finished eating, set a handful of Energy Eaters next to the other supplies, and formed a small carrying pouch around all of them, which he “attached” to his back near his waist.

  He deployed an Energy Eater inside the cabin, reformed the exoskeleton one more time, and floated out into the night.

  Though he knew at least one person in the village had some remedial level of Energy awareness—Elizabeth—he let small wisps of Energy escape his protective, invisible cocoon, the tendrils wafting through the air and down into the individual cabins. Though everyone was asleep—one could sense that easily with only moderate Energy training—he knew he’d be preoccupied for several hours and couldn’t risk the possibility that someone out for a call of nature might walk by Maynard’s cabin and see the strange man inside.

  Or, worse, that a surprise guest showed up in the darkest hours of the night.

  That would be… beyond awkward.

  And so he pushed into each mind, into the sleep centers, triggering all of them into a deep sleep, ensuring he’d have no interruptions. He started with Elizabeth; she’d be the only one who might sense what he was doing, who might wonder when she woke exactly what it was she’d felt if she suddenly woke up.

  Once all were sleeping—and guaranteed to stay that way—Adam floated to the ground and let the exoskeleton dissolve around him. There was no need for it any longer. And he’d need the nanos for tasks other than hiding him today.

  He’d be fully visible to everyone here.

  He thought he remembered Maynard’s cabin, but peeked in the window to be certain. He was off by one; the young woman sleeping in that cabin couldn’t be more different. He moved one cabin over, farther away from the village entrance, and this time found his quarry. He opened the door, walked inside, and closed the door behind him.

  He set up several Energy lights around the cottage, illuminating the interior as if he was outdoors on a sunny afternoon. He pulled the mirror from his pocket and attached one corner to the upper left edge of the door, stretching the mirror out until it covered the entire surface, pushing the edges firmly against the wood to maintain the shape. Full length mirror: in place. He then released his supply pack from his back and set the contents to rest on the ground near the window at the rear of the cabin before turning his attention to Maynard.

  Maynard was approximately three inches taller than Adam, and of a broader, more muscular build. Adam was of slightly above average height for men born in the middle seventeenth century, which meant he would certainly stand out among the slightly shorter people of the early eleventh century. Maynard dwarfed the other residents with both his height and width.

  And his size was his most recognizable physical trait. If Adam wanted to successfully impersonate his mother’s would-be killer… he’d need to get bigger.

  He set up an initial perimeter of nanos around the interior of the cabin, ordering them to block Energy leakage. The sleep trigger was a minor expenditure, something that would dissipate away long before Elizabeth could trace it, long before Will Stark could arrive and sense it. But this next step would require a more concentrated expenditure. He’d need enough that Elizabeth would notice. And if the residuals seeped into the local flora and fauna, Will might notice.

  Or he might not. But Adam wouldn’t take chances.

  Once cocooned inside an Energy-safe space, he let the restrictions loose and let the Energy flow through his body, savoring the sensation as one might enjoy a relaxing massage. The relaxation didn’t last; Adam charged the Energy with changing his physical form. He’d not just slightly alter his facial structure. The Energy would push around cell tissue, lengthening the bones in his body a fractional centimeter at a time. Will described the process he’d use to shrink himself to a slightly more eleventh century friendly height, but Adam didn’t know if the reverse would work.

  After an hour, he knew it would. He’d made himself taller, nearly matching the giant’s greater stature. The girth was a bit more problematic; he had a finite amount of mass to reallocate, and had determined that mass was better spent on stretching limbs and bones rather than adding muscular bulk. He could mimic a broader chest with specialized clothing, but he couldn’t move like a man of Maynard’s height with elevated shoes and artificial hands.

  He moved around for thirty minutes, testing the limits of his new size, building new bodily awareness and reacclimating his depth perception to his increased arm and leg reach. In doing so, he decided that, should he ever reveal what he’d done in a future conversation with Will, he’d have to scold the man about a minor oversight Stark made in telling the story of altering shrinking bones and muscles.

  It hurt. A lot.

  He did his best to avoid wincing in pain with each step, each arm bend, now leveraging his Energy to soothe muscles and ligaments damaged in the process. He’d focused on growing bones, thinking everything else would naturally stretch out. They had, but muscles didn’t normally stretch several inches at a time. His Energy soothing included additional repositioning of baseline body mass, trying to stretch out the most impacted tissue, moving so that his sore limbs had no chance to stiffen up as they healed.

  Once he’d done what he could, he busied himself studying Maynard’s face, using Energy to match the man’s features by re-aligning his facial bone structure–not lengthening, thankfully!–and then adjusted the size and shape of his nose, lips, and mouth. He trickled a small bit of Energy at Maynard and forced one sleeping eye open, relieved to find that Maynard’s eyes were also brown, of a similar shade to his own. He studied his reflection in the mirror, comparing what he saw there to the face of the man lying on the simple bed, until at last he considered his Energy work done.

  He breathed a sigh of relief. There had been nothing pleasant about that effort. And he’d have no real chance to sleep before his public work began.

  After he activated his Shield and deployed an Energy Eater to eliminate the bounding heaps of residual Energy inside the cottage, he reached out to the village and released the artificial sleep triggers he’d placed in their minds, finishing with Elizabeth.

  The first hints of sunlight trickled in through the window, glinting off the sword resting across Maynard’s chest. Adam frowned. That meant the others would be roused from their slumber soon; Arthur might be at the ovens already, stirring the mixture for the bread-like substance the villagers consumed each day. He frowned. He needed the nanos now for the remainder of his preparatory work, but those were all that kept him from unintended discovery.

  He compromised, leaving a thin sliver hovering in the small window facing the main section of the village. Those would block any light from exiting the cottage; unless someone pushed through, they’d see what looked like a still-dark cabin and assume the occupant still slept. Regretfully, he spared a few
additional nanos to act as a door jamb; if someone tried opening the door to figure out why Maynard remained asleep beyond the usual time… well, he’d have time to think of something.

  Best to finish up.

  He used a large portion of the remaining nanos for clothing, mimicking the style, texture, color, even stain marks on the clothes Maynard wore now in his slumber. It didn’t look like the man wore different clothing for sleep. Adam didn’t know if that was standard in this era, but as one long accustomed to frequent changes into fresh clothing, the idea revolted him. He directed his new clothing over Maynard’s sleeping body, letting the intelligent bots measure the man’s actual physical dimensions, then brought them back and draped them over his own smaller frame. The bots would move with him, maintaining a fixed distance from his skin, giving the illusion of added bulk.

  He finally pulled the nanos forming his standard bodysuit from his body and directed them around Maynard’s sword. He had no illusions about trying to wrest the weapon out of Maynard’s hands, even if the man had been forced asleep. Instead, the nano batch measured the dimensions, density, weight, and color of every square nanometer of Maynard’s great treasure, then reassembled into a perfect facsimile, point in the dirt by the door, hilt resting against the wooden frame.

  Adam tried to pick it up and nearly wrenched his overstretched muscles to the breaking point again. The man’s strength was simply extraordinary.

  Adam’s technology, though, was a match. He ordered the nanos in the facsimile sword to leverage the antigravity engines, effectively reducing the weight to the point that Adam could carry the blade around in the sheath on his back—oops, he’d forgotten that, and sent the nanos on his back scrambling into the proper form—and swing around if needed. If he let go, he’d just tell them to resume normal gravity and let the next person suffer the wrath of Maynard’s weighty weapon.

  The scent of baking bread reached him, and he felt his mouth water. He’d have to buy some and eat some, he realized, sighing. He found Maynard’s money pouch and set it on the small table common in all the village cabins. He checked to ensure that the special supplies he’d brought remained strapped to his body beneath the artificial clothing and body mass before turning his attention to his quarry once more.

  He needed a bit more information, and the man’s mind would be the only source. He pried inside the man’s most recent memories, “listening” to pick up on vocal patterns, common expressions, nicknames for the other villagers, food preferences and prices, any romantic involvements that might warrant a flirtatious word or glance to avoid too much confusion on Maynard’s part the next day. Adam had no love for a man who’d happily stab a woman in the back, but he needed to avoid too many awkward conversations. Elizabeth might figure things out and unintentionally explain more than she should.

  He’d mastered the man’s social standing and speaking mannerisms quickly. While disguised, he’d engage in as little physical speaking as possible, letting his mind project in Maynard’s vocal tone and speech patterns, keeping his face low and his mouth movements minimal.

  With the residents of the cottages on either side obviously awake now—he could hear them shouting words of greeting to passers-by—Adam knew he couldn’t wait any longer. He pulled the nanos from the window and door, and spread a thin layer over the sleeping giant, coloring them to look just like the blanket below. Should anyone look inside the cottage over the next several hours, they’d see nothing but an empty bed.

  Oh, and an Energy Eater. He grabbed that and rolled it under Maynard’s bed. Hopefully, he could count on it to stay in one place during his absence.

  Now, he just needed to hope Maynard didn’t snore.

  Adam took several deep breaths to ensure his mind remained fully alert. Then he strapped on Maynard’s coin purse, opened the door, and walked out into the village.

  He made sure he shut the door behind him.

  ~~~23~~~

  1008 A.D.

  As the door closed behind him, Adam adopted an air of grumpiness, much as one would after a being awakened too soon from a poor night’s sleep. His brief—but still too long—foray into the man’s mind made clear that such moods weren’t uncommon; he suspected they were one reason Elizabeth found the man so frightening and disagreeable. He lumbered around, glaring at most, ignoring the rest, and avoided any eye contact. He ate nothing before departing for the Halwende with the others, staying far enough away from the crowds that no one would notice he’d never removed any clothes. The cool water refreshed him, but he exited quickly, uncertain what might be floating beneath the surface. It was unfortunate; the Halwende’s water chilled and refreshed him, awakening his skin and raising his alertness levels.

  He followed the others back to the village, retaining his sour expression and air of annoyance. No one talked to him. Perfect.

  He watched others purchase food for breakfast and followed suit, purchasing and consuming foods not to his liking, washing it down with a wooden tumbler of water.

  His eyes flicked surreptitiously toward Arthur, watching as the man completed the cooking chores commenced before the Halwende trip. Genevieve shooed Elizabeth toward the barn where the girl scurried about, disturbing the hens and collecting the eggs they’d produced overnight. She handed the basket to her mother and began scattering grain for the chickens and dumped food into a small wooden trough for the goats.

  Arthur finished cooking and headed toward his cabin. Adam availed himself of the longer legs he possessed, walking quickly and catching Arthur just as the man reached the door of his cottage.

  Arthur eyed him with no small degree of suspicion. “Getting an early start to your day, Maynard?” He arched an eyebrow. “You must have something specific in mind to try out today.”

  Adam recognized the leading question and understood the intent behind it. Arthur wanted to be the first to benefit from any discoveries, and by teasing out any inspired realizations about food combinations before the live testing began, he could map any changes in Elizabeth to the foodstuffs consumed. It was a practical and shrewd move, ensuring no enterprising villager opted to keep working combinations of foods private, or lie after the fact and offer incorrect solutions to Arthur and others.

  Adam doubted that would work. Arthur seemed too skilled at reading people, even without Energy; he’d see through the subterfuge and tease out the correct answers regardless.

  He grunted in response to Arthur’s question, then fished out the proper fee for Elizabeth’s services and handed it over to Arthur.

  Arthur accepted the coin, briefly disappeared into his cottage to stow the money away, and then led the way across the village, past the well, and over to the farm area.

  Genevieve saw them coming and sent a lethal glower in Maynard’s direction. Adam could feel the deep anger and hatred coming his way… though he knew it was meant for the real Maynard. And a portion of that hostile gaze was no doubt meant for her husband.

  Elizabeth stared at him, eyes wide, and a cold blast of fear assaulted his empathic senses. The grain she held in her hands fell to the ground. The chickens approached her, clucking wildly, scarfing up the grains clumped upon the ground.

  And then there was a subtle change to the look on her face, one he nearly missed. Something that suggested her interpretation of events had wavered, if only for an instant. Adam felt a deep curiosity. Had she already realized that there was something different about the man standing before her?

  “Come, Elizabeth.” Arthur’s voice, sharp and angry, startled the girl into action.

  Elizabeth wrapped her arms around her belly and moved toward the paddock gate where the men stood. Arthur opened the gate for Elizabeth, shooing away the chickens and goats seeking freedom. Elizabeth stopped before him, and Adam didn’t look at her.

  He could sense something in her emotions, but she hid it well, well enough that he didn’t press his Energy advantage and try to force whatever she might be thinking to the surface.

  He finally reali
zed Elizabeth was waiting for him to move, and he lumbered toward the Schola, aware that Arthur watched him as Elizabeth followed. As he opened the door and allowed the girl inside, he allowed himself a brief glance back at the man who had managed to convince an entire village that renting his daughter for work that had already nearly killed her once was a good idea. He let the anger at that thought reach his eyes as he stared the man down.

  Arthur broke the eye contact first, visibly shaken, and headed back to his cottage.

  Adam wondered if Maynard had ever before offered such an intimidating look at Arthur Lowell.

  He entered the Schola and closed the door behind him, sliding the interior lock into place to ensure they weren’t disturbed. They’d put wooden planks down since he’d last seen the interior, but the planks weren’t thoroughly stable. The shift in his bodyweight required to close the door and slide the bolt made the planks shift. But it was still an improvement over the dirt from previous days; his mother told him that good food they’d stored in the Schola was routinely eaten by mice that burrowed in under the walls.

  Which meant even the mice rejected the foodstuffs they’d been forcing on Elizabeth.

  It also meant that the smells in the Schola were heavily earthy and pungent. A few extra spades, still muddied from the most recent use, leaned against the back wall. The scents of the bizarre foods dominated, and he felt his eyes watering and a slight gagging reflex. It all added to the disgust he felt at these people, and, to some degree, at himself. Though he knew it would all end well for the little girl… he felt some of his father’s shame in knowing he’d be leaving her behind.

  But he’d be leaving her much better protected after today.

  He turned to face the little girl… and found that she was already standing next to him, staring, and reaching her hand up toward his face.

  “You have a bad man’s face but a good man’s heart.” She looked at him, more confused than afraid. “I don’t understand how you are doing that.”