by Jacob Whaler
“It’s OK.” He drops down beside her, engulfing her in his arms, feeling the convulsions racking her body, holding her tightly.
“Matt!” Her arms wrap tightly around him. Only a tiny, scratchy voice escapes from her lips. “Don’t leave me.” Her eyes speak of stark terror.
Then they close and she goes limp.
With his heart pounding, Matt lays her out horizontally in empty space surrounded by cold and darkness. Stars float above and below them. His shaking hands go down on her forehead.
He is immediately drawn inside.
Search for the poison.
Gliding down through her brain and into her spinal cord, it all looks and feels right. Passing by the heart, something is wrong. The muscles are too relaxed and slowing down. Going in deeper, he sees the source of the problem.
Millions of tiny blue structures float in her blood. It feels wrong and must be the toxin. As he watches, the blue structures shoot through narrow capillaries and attach to individual muscle cells, causing them to stop moving.
How can he pull the toxins away from the cells and dispose of them?
Jumping up multiple orders of magnitude, he hovers over her body and scans its entire landscape. The blue molecules are collecting in her chest and abdomen. The lungs no longer work. Internal organs are starting to discolor.
He can see the problem, but not the answer. There are miles and miles of capillaries to scour. It will take forever if he does it one at a time.
Panic rises in his own chest.
Then he remembers what Leo taught him.
You see what you want to see. If you’re too analytic about it, you’ll just get lost in all the molecules and structure. Forget everything you know. Trust your instincts. Disease and sickness stand out. It won’t look right. Just find it and make it look right.
Matt breathes in and out until relaxation returns. He scans through Jessica’s body again like a satellite in low earth orbit. This time, it all looks fine. There are no specific places of concern. Except for one thing.
He has the sense that something is missing.
He begins to imagine what it might be. A shape forms in his mind, an organic crystal in three dimensions he has never seen before. He plays with it, folding and unfolding its complex surfaces, turning it inside out, taking it apart until it feels right.
Everything he needs to make it is already present in Jessica’s body.
As he thinks about it, the elements gather together as if on their own. To his surprise, he does not have to assemble them. They simply slide into place and form the folded shape in his imagination.
More and more of them form, as if assembled by an internal factory. The shapes float out into the rivers of Jessica’s bloodstream. Matt focuses his attention on the heart, making it pump, making it move the blood. Soon her body is flooded with the tiny folded shapes. It feels right.
Going in deeper, he sees what is happening.
The folded shapes are attaching to the blue toxins, dislodging them and breaking them up so they float away harmlessly.
Matt hovers over Jessica’s body until it is fully cleansed. When he scans it again, it looks right. Nothing is missing. Nothing is awry. Her heart begins to move on its own. The diaphragm muscle slides up and down inside her chest.
All is well.
He pulls up out of her body and opens his eyes. The two of them are back on the sandy beach. Jessica is breathing easy. She looks relaxed and calm. He sits down on the sand beside her, his back propped up against a log.
His hand finds her fingers and closes around them.
CHAPTER 133
“Are we ready, Dr. Zemikis?”
The short man doesn’t look up, so Ryzaard stares at the shiny top of his bald head.
“Yes, Dr. Ryzaard. I believe all preparations are complete.”
“Thank you for such excellent work on short notice,” Ryzaard says. “I know you weren’t planning on two new patients.”
“I understand the fluid nature of your project. No need to thank me for simply doing my job.”
Ryzaard walks past Little John to the two hospital beds stationed on the other side.
The girl named Yarah lies on one bed, her long black hair laid out neatly behind her head in contrast to the crisp white sheet that covers her body. Leo is on the other bed under a similar white sheet.
Their eyes are closed, both taking long, easy breathes.
Ryzaard lets his eyes drop down to the two young patients. “Tell me, Dr. Zemikis, have you ever performed implant surgery before?”
“Yes, of course.” He slides his bare hands into the opening of a cube-like machine. It closes around his wrists. A purple light leaks out where the machine meets his skin. When he pulls his hands out, a thin white film clings to them like a second skin.
“On children?” Ryzaard says.
“No, not on children. FDA rules forbid it.”
Ryzaard stands between the two beds and rests a hand on each of the railings. His gaze drifts from the face of Leo to Yarah. There’s a fatherly pride in his eyes. “Are you curious?”
Dr. Zemikis looks up. “About what?”
“The children,” Ryzaard says. “The purpose of the implants.” He opens up his freshly pressed tweed jacket. “The five Stones I have on my chest.”
“In my line of work, I’ve learned that asking questions is dangerous. As long as the money flows into my Mesh-account, it’s none of my concern.” Zemikis moves to the foot of the bed where a short, fat, bald man lies, shackled and still, white foam dribbling out of both corners of his mouth. Zemikis touches a green dot on the outside of a glass case.
A small section slides open, exposing a black box within. Zemikis picks up a pair of tiny tweezers and eases them through the opening. He lifts up the lid of the black box with his other hand.
White mist curls up from the inside of the box.
When the mist clears, he looks down at the two emerald-like jewels suspended in liquid nitrogen and picks up one with the tweezers, turning it over and examining it closely. “Quite an achievement, a perfect melding of art and technology,” Zemikis says. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Ryzaard steps away from the beds and walks closer to Zemikis. “These prototypes were manufactured in strict secrecy. As you might have guessed, we have leapfrogged the current technology by several generations.” Ryzaard stops behind Zemikis and stares over his shoulder at the implants. “This is the future, Dr. Zemikis.”
“I can only guess what these implants must do to the recipient once they are directly attached to the brain’s medulla.”
“Is that a question?”
“No. Merely an observation.” Zemikis returns the implant to the liquid nitrogen solution and closes the lid of the black box.
“I suggest you follow your own advice and keep your observations to yourself. Any questions about the procedure for performing the implant surgery?”
“No,” Zemikis says. “I’ve read all the reports prepared by Dr. Small when he did the implant for our chubby little friend. It’s fairly straightforward. I’m sure there won’t be any surprises.”
“I admire your confidence,” Ryzaard says. “Let me know when the surgery is done so that we can begin our tests. I’ll be next door in my office if you need anything.”
“Understood.”
Ryzaard turns and walks to the other end of the room.
“You’ve jogged my memory. There’s one matter I would like to discuss with you,” Dr. Zemikis says.
Ryzaard stops and turns. “Of course.”
“I saw in Dr. Small’s notes his concerns about the potential negative effects of combining the implant with periodic bursts of adrenaline.”
“Yes,” Ryzaard says. “Dr. Small did not agree with our methods. But it’s important for our purposes that the implant recipients be ultra-alert at all times. It gives us a measureable increase in function. Do you have a problem with that?”
“No.” Zemikis picks up a s
late and brushes his finger across its surface. “And I am familiar with the accident Dr. Small had after your disagreement and the termination of his employment.”
“Yes, that was unfortunate.”
“So please understand that I’m not disagreeing with your methods. But I do believe in full disclosure.” He turns to face Ryzaard. “There’s something you need to understand.”
“Go on.”
“Exposure to such high levels of adrenaline will affect the long-term viability of the adult patient.” Zemikis looks down at the two children in the beds to his left. “As for these children, it may prove fatal within a much shorter period of time. I just thought you should know.”
Ryzaard nods. “You need not concern yourself.” He turns back to the door. “All of this is just an intermediate step. We’ll soon be taking our program to an entirely new level. At that point, these patients will no longer be necessary. Until then, please proceed with the adrenaline therapy.” Ryzaard walks through the door. It closes behind him.
Zemikis turns to the nurse waiting next to the wall.
“Let’s begin the procedure.”
CHAPTER 134
Matt bends down and kisses Jessica’s lips. He takes a deep inhale of her warm breath.
She stirs and looks up into his face.
“Matt?”
“Don’t look down,” he says. “Keep your eyes on me.”
“What?”
Matt grins. “Don’t look away from my eyes.”
“Where are we? I was just—”
“Dying. But you’re all better now.”
Her hands jump up to her throat, and she breathes in deeply. “You found me in the apartment in New York?”
“Yes,” Matt says. “And brought you here to heal you from the poison gas.” He moves back a little. “OK. Now you can look down. Don’t have a heart attack.”
He watches her eyes as her gaze travels down the bridge of his nose, past his lips, across the chin to his neck.
“What the—” She pushes him away, staring at the dark blue skin below his neck. “Why did you—”
“Long story. I’ll tell you later. It’s high-tech armor integrated into my skin. I can turn it on and off. It just saved my life from those goons back in New York. Don’t worry. It comes off.” He touches his sternum, and the blue suit fades away like evaporating water.
Jessica laughs hysterically and looks away. “You need to find some pants that aren’t full of holes.”
“Just as soon as I can.”
Touching the dot on his chest, the blue armor spreads over his body like an ocean wave. He gets to his feet and takes Jessica’s hand, pulling her up.
They stand together.
“Now that we’re together again, I could stay here forever.” Jessica squeezes Matt’s hand. “It’s so peaceful.”
He turns to her. “I wish we had time to rest, but we have to leave.”
“Why?”
“Another long story, and there’s no time to explain.”
“What’s the plan?”
“Find my dad.”
“Where?”
“Thailand.”
CHAPTER 135
Three more Stones.
One each from Leo and Yarah, still alive and in the adjoining room. And Matt’s Stone, waiting for him in a pent-house apartment a few blocks away, next to his dead body.
Jing-wei is on her way to pick up that Stone right now so Ryzaard can bond with it in a few minutes. He looks forward to relishing that experience.
He’s been so busy today, he hasn’t yet been able to check in with anyone on his team other than Dr. Zemikis.
Ryzaard moves to his favorite position at the window of his office looking out at the Brooklyn Bridge. Its archaic and black shape, now nothing more than a reminder of America’s great Industrial Age, contrasts with the carbonite and glass of Manhattan.
Symbols of power always inspire him. It won’t be long before he introduces a new age, and the world will look to him as a living symbol of power. No more waste, no more suffering, no more evil.
Paradise at last.
The door to his office slides open, and Alexa walks through.
“Welcome back.” Ryzaard keeps his back to the door and contemplates the future. “I trust your trip back from Thailand was enjoyable.”
There is only silence behind him as Alexa stands still in front of the desk. He knows something is amiss the second he hears her breathe in and hold her breath.
“What’s wrong?” Ryzaard swings around and walks to his desk, bending forward and letting his hands rest on the back of the chair.
Alexa stares down at the floor four feet in front of her. After a long pause, she exhales and looks past Ryzaard out the window, a steely gaze in her eye. “There’s been a problem with the girl,” she says.
“Problem?” Ryzaard shakes his head. “I don’t understand. How could there be a problem. She’s dead.”
“That’s just the problem.” One of Alexa’s eyebrows rises above her eye. “We don’t know if she’s dead or not. There’s no body.”
“What do you mean?” Ryzaard is hit by a wave of surprise and horror. He begins to speak in a clear staccato voice, emphasizing each word. “What about the boy?”
Alexa’s eyes meet Ryzaard’s. “He’s gone. They’re both gone.”
“Impossible. I saw the soldiers kill him. His Stone was disabled. A spray of pulse projectiles hit his chest. He fell.”
“You’re right,” Alexa says. “They shot him, and he fell down. But he was wearing protective armor. Blue all over his body. Pulse rifles at close range did nothing. The bullets just disintegrated on impact. He took her and jumped away. Now they’re both gone.”
Overcome by light-headedness, Ryzaard moves to the front of his chair and sits down. His eyes are unfocused. A bitter taste spreads across his tongue.
“What about the soldiers?”
“We have the two of them in custody now.”
Ryzaard puts his fingertips together. “Kill them immediately.”
“You’ve got to be kidding. It’s not their fault.”
Anger surges through Ryzaard’s body like water bursting from a dam. He tries to tamp it down, but it keeps rising beyond his control. Jumping to his feet, his hands go down on the desk and he leans forward, closer to Alexa.
“I am not kidding.” His voice rises to a crescendo that can be heard down the hall all the way to the lab. Spit bursts from his mouth as he yells. “Do as I say or you will join them!”
This time, both of Alexa’s eyebrows rise, and she takes a step back.
“Not a word of this to anyone.” Ryzaard’s voice dies down to a whisper. He is still leaning over the desk, muscles bulging in his arms. “I’ll deal with it myself.”
Alexa nods and turns to leave.
“One more thing,” Ryzaard says. “I want ten combat-ready men here in my office in five minutes. Is that clear?”
“Got it.” Alexa walks out the door.
Ryzaard’s jax buzzes on his desk. He looks down. “Go ahead, Dr. Zemikis.”
“I just wanted to give you a quick report on our progress.”
“Please do,” Ryzaard says.
“The procedure was successful. Both of the children are doing well, and the implants are fully functional. I thought you might want to know.”
“Thank you for the good news, Dr. Zemikis.” Ryzaard falls back into his chair and let his eyes drop shut.
At least something is going right.
CHAPTER 136
“Be careful.” Jessica takes a step out onto the field of grass at the old temple site. “By now, Ryzaard knows we got away. He’ll be looking everywhere.”
“Follow me,” Matt says.
They creep between the crumbled ruins, working their way back to where Matt left his dad on the ground. He peeks around the corner of a broken wall at the far edge of the field.
They’re still there, his dad and Jake, lying face up on the grass, eyes c
losed.
Ryzaard is gone. So are Leo and Yarah.
Matt rushes to his dad’s side and kneels, trying to find a pulse on the neck, the arm, anywhere. Jessica drops down on the opposite side. “He’s gone.” Matt looks up at Jessica.
“Maybe it’s not too late.”
“I’ll try to reach him.” He puts his hands on his dad’s chest. “I don’t know what will happen or how long this will take.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll be here.”
Matt nods and closes his eyes. It doesn’t take long to find his breath.
Come on, Dad. Don’t leave me like this.
Scenes from childhood pass through his mind. He watches his dad’s hands baiting a hook with a worm on a fishing trip in the Catskills. The look of horror and worry on his dad’s face as they rush through the airport in New York on their way to a new life off-grid. His dad’s face when Matt says goodbye at the airport and leaves for Japan.
As the scenes float by, there’s a shift in his surroundings. Goosebumps rise on his skin.
It’s all happening again.
And it is.
Feeling the warmth, Matt opens his eyes and finds himself looking up at the same warm globe of fire in the same exquisite room of light he just left with Jessica. His face feels wet.
I’ll bring him back with me. Just like Jessica.
But this time, when he looks around, his dad isn’t in the room.
Without thinking, Matt rushes to the door that opens out to the courtyard. He looks down and stops abruptly before crossing a golden line drawn across the threshold.
His father stands just outside.
“Dad!”
Kent turns his head, his eyes lighting up with joy. He runs across the courtyard to the door, arms outstretched, and walks back across the threshold into the room, slipping a hand behind Matt’s head and pulling him close. Just like when Matt was a little boy. “Son. It’s so good to see you here. Isn’t this place incredible?”
Matt doesn’t say anything. His gaze travels around the exquisite courtyard with its fruit trees and collection of songbirds. He catches a glimpse of the ocean a few hundred meters away. The sweet aroma of grapes and peaches plays with his nostrils.
