After over a month of waiting, none of the Starks had come forward. A reluctant coroner had no choice but to officially rule all three members of the family dead, despite the lack of bodies to prove it. After all, he reasoned, even if the family had taken an impromptu vacation, they’d likely hear about what happened and speak up after so much time had passed if they were alive to do so. Police likewise reported that they’d found no evidence suggesting that the arsonist had escaped the raging fire he’d started. With no living victims to press charges and no criminal to charge with a crime, the case was closed.
Tabloids enjoyed teasing readers with conspiracy theories about the nature of, and the purpose of, the holes in the basement and backyard. Had the Starks expected an attack and started building an escape tunnel? Had the arsonist tunneled his way in? Were they building a secret vault under their backyard, with entrances from the surface and the basement?
Eventually, the conspiracy chatter was replaced with a more serious question. Will Stark, with both his own phenomenal success and investments in many fledgling businesses, was both the face and the engine of the country’s nascent recovery from economic turmoil. What did it say for that recovery when someone was clearly willing to murder the man? And who would take his place?
While such questions continued to be discussed in public, the nation’s watchful eye turned away from the burned-out shell of the Stark’s home. News channels no longer demanded access to film the scene for the alternating depressing and scandalous stories of the day. The site became a less dramatic visual as cleanup crews removed the ash and rubble, leaving nothing but the smooth concrete poured to form the foundation floors and walls. Quiet and silence returned to the site the Starks had once called home.
Late one night, there was movement at the house.
A fine line formed in the concrete floor, working its way around, until it formed a square measuring eight feet per side. The square began to rise slowly into the air, a solid slab of concrete a foot thick. The square cleared the floor and a gap opened up, revealing that the slab was supported by four large steel columns. After several minutes, the original slab was over seven feet above the floor of the basement, and another slab appeared, the entire structure rising out of the ground like the elevator car it was.
Hope Stark stood in the elevator car, holding the hand of her son, Josh.
Mother and son took deep breaths, the first bit of truly outdoor air that the two of them had breathed in nearly two months. The underground bunker Hope had built was designed to withstand another economic calamity in which food, water, or air quality might be compromised, or in which their personal safety was threatened. Nobody else knew it existed, and nobody else knew how to get in.
Not even Will.
Hope had found a use for her long-dormant Aliomenti abilities when the house had first been built. She had remotely teleported small amounts of dirt out from under the house, and scattered it around the property, until she’d cleared out sufficient space for the bunker. Using scuba gear for breathing, and a flashlight to enable her to see, she was able to teleport herself into the underground bunker and gradually reinforce the walls, create the hydraulics for the elevator car, build connections into underground electric, water, and sewage lines separate from those going to her house, and added an air filtration system. She gradually stocked food supplies, water, and materials for entertainment in the bunker. Over a period of several years, she completed the underground hideout, which would enable them to live in moderate comfort for several months without needing to leave.
Hope was troubled, though. She was the only person who knew that the bunker existed. Yet someone else had teleported her and Josh from the kitchen to the bunker just as The Assassin was preparing to strike the death blows. It was unnerving to know that somebody out there knew her true identity, and had the ability and desire to save her, and more importantly, Josh. More frightening to her, though, was that she’d been intending to do it herself, but the very real threat of Josh being injured had frozen her at the moment she’d needed to act. Someone had bailed her out.
Hope had technology that kept Energy inside the bunker. She could relax and be at ease, and it enabled Josh to learn of the gifts he’d been born with, without having to worry about being detected. She glanced at her son. Josh had grown tremendously in all facets of his life during their self-imposed exile. She found that he’d absorbed most of what she’d taught him over the past six years, and the few things that were fuzzy were quickly corrected. She taught him about Energy and about how to Shield that Energy to make sure that nobody unfriendly could find him once they left the safety of the bunker. She explained her own life story, how she came to meet Will, and the reason that Will must now stay far away from them.
The little boy nodded during this last part without really meaning it, for he wanted his father there with him. She knew what he was thinking, even without using telepathy or empathy. Josh was hurt that Will was staying away. Though she explained that his father’s only goal was to keep the boy safe, Josh believed the truth was something else entirely, that Will had chosen to stay away to avoid dealing with him anymore, dealing with his issues. Her efforts to convince him otherwise had proved futile for now; she hoped things would improve soon. She didn’t want Josh to poison his sibling’s understanding of Will. Her hand instinctively went to her belly, and she felt the movement. She knew the baby was a girl, her little angel, a future reminder of Will as he moved around and drew the Aliomenti away.
Josh also missed his dog, Smokey; she was the closest thing to a friend he’d ever had. Hope feared that the dog had died in the fire, but elected not to say that to the boy. Josh had enough issues to deal with already.
Hope knelt on the concrete and looked Josh in the eye. “It’s a very dangerous time for us, Josh,” she said. “We must pretend we are different people. And we must avoid seeming different, and that means we have to avoid using our Energy unless absolutely necessary, and even then we need to use the least amount possible. You are very, very powerful, and the people who did all of this would sense that and find us both. Do you understand?”
The little boy nodded. He was trying to look brave, but he was clearly scared.
“We’ll need to use different names.” She thought for a moment. “Stark can be rearranged to spell Trask, so that will be our new last name. You...you should use your middle name. So you can go by Phillip or Phil.”
“That’s spelled F-I-L, right Mommy?” Josh asked.
Hope didn’t correct him. “That’s very good. I will be...Phoebe. The first four letters can be rearranged to spell Hope.” She patted him on the head. “Nice to meet you, Fil Trask.”
The little boy grinned at the new game. “Nice to meet you too, Mommy Trask.”
“Those are fine choices for names,” a man’s voice said. “You’ll also need some money for your journey.” He walked out of the trees toward them. Hope pushed Josh behind her, but he poked his head out to watch.
“Your secret is safe with me...Phoebe.” He smiled. “I’m one of you, and I’m on your side.” The man held his left hand palm-side up, and light erupted from his palm, partially illuminating his face and his short brown hair.
Hope was able to recognize the man, and sense that he was trustworthy. “It looks like we carried everything out successfully, then. The Assassin got in. The fire started. We got away.” She shook her head. “It took a great deal of effort to play my part and not blast that man into oblivion. He’s simply too terrible to be allowed to walk free. It was difficult enough working to suppress Josh’s Energy all of those years, even more so when I realized that one of the side effects turned out to be his permanent silence.”
Adam looked at her with sympathy. “I don’t envy you that part of these past seven years at all, Phoebe. I assume he knows what happened on that front?” He glanced at the boy, and the mother nodded. “He may have issues with it later, but very young children are extremely adaptable and resilient. As to The Assa
ssin...he’s terrible, all right. But we must be careful what we ask for. Sometimes, we get just that. And it’s worse than what we already know.” He smiled at Phoebe. “You did well. I know Will is quite proud of you, wherever he might be at the moment. He’ll always be keeping an eye out for both of you in his own fashion. Never forget that.” He looked at Fil. “Your father loves you, young Fil. More than you’ll ever know. Don’t confuse his lack of presence with a lack of love.” The little boy stared at the man, and then looked away. It would take time for him to truly understand.
Adam turned back to Phoebe. “Will told me that my sole job after this happened was very simple: it was to make sure that both of you are taken care of. How are the two of you doing?”
“Mommy’s been puking!” Josh sang, and even mimicked the act and sounds in case there was some confusion about the meaning of the term.
The man looked at her with concern. “Are you ill?”
She shook her head, a hand resting on her belly. “Just a bit of morning sickness.”
He nodded. “My congratulations. My charge extends to your newborn as well, of course, in terms of safety.” He cocked his head, and then smiled. “Your child loves the stories you tell of your husband. Do you want to know if Fil is getting a brother or sister?”
Hope shook her head. “I already know. Right now, I just need to get us out of here.”
Adam nodded. “Here’s a credit card, checkbook, and debit card for you, along with a folder containing other key documents. There’s a house for rent in the new neighborhood I’ve scouted out for you, which will be a good place for you to live. The checking account is already nicely funded, and the rest of your money — all of it — is accessible as well when you need it. We’d rather not open a new checking account with several billion dollars in place, for obvious reasons.” He smiled. “You need not get a job because of financial concerns, Mrs. Trask.”
He walked closer, and handed her the materials. Her name — her new name — was on the checks and debit card, with an address in a small town in Oregon. The forms included birth certificates for both of them as well. “You’ll be able to start fresh there, with your new names, but we need to work on your appearances. You in particular, Phoebe, are fairly easily recognized, and a single mother arriving in a new community with a sizable amount of money, and an appearance much like a very famous dead woman, is going to raise a lot of eyebrows.”
Phoebe smirked. “You worked out the names ahead of time and pushed them to me, didn’t you?”
Adam’s feigned look of innocence was the only answer she got.
Hope shrugged. “In terms of altering appearance...well, I haven’t tried that in a while, but I think I remember the process. I’ll need to teach Fil, however. I think we can both go with the dark hair, since we’re better known for the other end. Especially me, the platinum blonde.”
“Agreed. Both of you have rather round faces, so I’d recommend a narrower facial structure.”
Hope nodded. “I can work on my changes; would you be able to walk Jo—er, Fil, through the process?”
Adam smiled. “I’d be delighted.” He glanced at Josh, now known as Fil. “Fil, has your mom been teaching you how to use your Energy?”
The boy took a moment to realize that he was Fil. “Yes. I can move things around without touching them now!” He grinned.
“You’ll be able to do much more than that when necessary. For now, though, that will suffice. You need to concentrate your Energy on your hair, and see the Energy changing the color to black.”
Mother and child did as he suggested, and Adam watched as the hair on their heads gradually darkened until it was pitch black. Adam applauded lightly. Phoebe and Fil looked at each other, and both gasped at their new hair color and the remarkable difference it made in their appearance.
“You’ll need to use the same approach to narrow your face, Fil. Please realize that this ability is more cosmetic than structural. You can narrow your face a bit, but you can’t make yourself a foot taller. Just be careful that you don’t narrow your faces too dramatically.” Mother and son repeated the process, and when they were finished they were nearly unrecognizable as the “dead” Hope and Josh Stark. The widow Phoebe Trask and her son, Fil, had been born.
Adam took the driver’s license back from Phoebe, and held it up so that it faced the dark-haired, narrow-faced woman. The empty section for her picture gradually filled in with her new face, one that would take time to get used to seeing.
“I will take the two of you to the outskirts of your new town, to a hotel there with a reservation in your name, Phoebe. There will be a package there waiting for you, which will have some cash in it, and the keys to a minivan with your remaining possessions. Your story is, in essence, a true one. Your husband perished in a fire which destroyed your home and possessions, leaving you a widow at a young age, with a young son and another child on the way. You have a modest amount of money from a life insurance policy, and wanted to move away to start fresh and erase the sights that would remind you of your loss. You’ve come into some possessions from donations, which will be in the truck, but you will need to do some shopping.” He glanced at Fil. “You will need to go to school, and you will make friends there and learn in a classroom. School and learning will be very easy for you, Fil, because your mom and dad have taught you so much. But it is very important that you avoid using your Energy except when it’s exceptionally important. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” Fil said. His mother told him this on a regular basis. Time would tell how well a six-year-old boy truly understood such words.
“Remember, if you use a lot of Energy — either of you — the people who did this to your house will find out, and they will come after you. They are not happy that they failed. And Phoebe...I think you are wise to assume that they’ll figure out who you truly are as well, if they haven’t already.” The woman merely nodded.
He looked at the two of them. “Since I’ve been asked to keep an eye on you, I’m going to move into your house. I will age myself and become your father-in-law, Phoebe. Adam Trask, at your service.” He bowed low, and despite the seriousness of the situation, Hope found herself laughing. “I’ll be a quiet old curmudgeon in public, but I can watch Fil when you need to go out alone, and can help with his training. And I might even be able to help correct his homework.”
“What’s that?” Fil asked. Adam laughed.
Phoebe looked at Adam, her newly-narrowed face displaying a look of curiosity. “You sound very familiar, Adam. I feel like we’ve met before, before we started planning everything that needed to happen on that night, and felt that way even back then. Do I know you from somewhere?”
Adam shook his head. “Not somewhere, Phoebe. Some when.”
XXIX
Waiting
2219 A.D.
Joshua Phillip Stark, known for many decades as Fil, sat at the edge of camp, his back against one of the giant trees forming the perimeter. He pulled his knees close and wrapped his arms around them.
It was something he’d seen his father do on a regular basis.
It had been an incredibly challenging two months, starting when they’d made the decision to rescue Will Stark from the pages of history, a history that said the man had vanished and was presumed dead following an explosion and inferno that consumed his home, and everyone in it.
Their conversation had been much like the staged conversation held to convince Will that he was the one who had rescued Josh and Hope from the house. Everything had been staged to get the man into the time machine, because they had all known he wasn’t going back to the house. History said Will Stark would emerge from the time machine much sooner than that. They weren’t sure that even Will would choose the path he would need to follow. If Will had known that his son was already here, he might never choose to leave. And if he’d learned that the morning of the fire, Hope Stark had discovered she was pregnant, and that the daughter he’d never known existed was in this camp..
.would he ever, willingly, go?
It was too risky to leave such an important element of history to chance in that fashion. And so they’d neglected to tell him about those details.
As for him, Fil’s story had been completely true. He had viewed his father as a selfish man, perhaps embarrassed of his son’s disability, a man who had no doubt decided that he’d simply give up on the boy and walk away. It didn’t mesh with his memory of the man those first six years of his life, but when Hope had said his father needed to go and stay far away from them for their own protection...his young mind couldn’t fathom that. He especially hadn’t been able to fathom that the choice to stay away would be far more painful for Will than for his son.
He’d been somewhat more accepting of that reality when he’d become a father himself. The thought of being separated from his little girl was devastating, and yet if it was necessary for her survival he would have done so. The Hunters and Abaddon made sure that it was no longer necessary to speculate, however. He wished he had had the opportunity to punish Abaddon, but a few kicks at his predecessor, The Assassin, would have to do.
Over the decades that followed, he’d had plenty of time to forgive his father and himself for their self-imposed views of failure. Seeing the man again, just as he remembered him from nearly two centuries earlier, had brought back his old emotions and memories. He’d need to keep Will from getting close; the man would recognize his own son for certain if given the chance. He’d grown to be a man, and his sandy blond hair was now the jet-black color of Will’s own, so he was somewhat camouflaged. His eyes, though, hadn’t changed, and he knew his father would recognize him through his eyes. He’d fashioned the sunglasses to ensure that his father would never see the eyes that would expose the truth of his identity, and thus make Will’s choice to go back in time — far back in time — even more difficult. Why leave to save what was already there in front of you?
A Question of Will Page 29
