by Jacob Whaler
Matt’s love has become something tangible.
Jhata tries to push it back, but it engulfs and overwhelms her, flowing over and through her.
She is drowning in an infinite ocean.
Love wells up inside Matt for all the people in his life that he ever thought of as enemies. The bully that gave him a black eye when he was a junior in high school. The man next door that always slammed the door or dropped the blinds when Matt walked by. The kids that made fun of Matt for having a Japanese mother.
Claustrophobia overtakes Jhata.
The face of Ryzaard floats up in Matt’s consciousness. Flames of hatred flare up for an instant as he sees the old man staring at him, laughing and kicking, enjoying the pain he inflicts. But it soon passes, overwhelmed by a surge of pity and empathy.
Even Ryzaard is worthy of love.
And then it’s over.
Jhata is released from the grip of Matt’s mind. She stumbles backward, hands on her head, body racked with aching.
Love drains from her body like water through a sieve.
CHAPTER 59
A presence leaves Matt’s mind.
Someone grabs his left hand, pulling him forward. Opening his eyes, Yarah is at his side, looking up, smiling. He bends and scoops her into his arms, balancing her slight weight on his hip.
“So, my child, you have made your choice?” Jhata says.
They both turn to look at Jhata, and Yarah slowly nods her head.
“You will regret this, my child. So much potential. All of it wasted.”
Matt hears Yarah’s voice distinctly in his mind.
We can love her, too.
Following the child’s lead, Matt opens himself to Jhata, still dressed in a black kimono and standing only meters away.
He sees her as a spoiled child of emotionally distant parents, awesome power forced upon her with no guidance or restraint. He sees her search for meaning and purpose. Her intense loneliness.
Love and understanding overflow from both Matt and Yarah until it encompasses even Jhata. Words flow from Matt’s mind.
Join with us. Sever your ties with the past. Use your power for good. Become one of us.
“No!” Jhata shouts. “I don’t want your pity! I don’t need your lies!”
“Don’t reject what we offer,” Matt says. “You made a choice once. You can change that. Now it’s time for you to choose again.”
“I can play the same game you are.” Taking two steps back, Jhata stands firm with hands on hips, eyes shaded in deep creases.
As if a dam is breaking, floods of malice and hurt engulf Matt. A rising tide of venom and hatred, nursed and nourished over multiple millennia, throws itself over him like a chilling shadow blocking the warmth of the sun.
Even without highly developed telepathic powers, Matt senses a palpable cold and dark coming from Jhata, pushing back against the flow of warmth and affection radiating from him and Yarah. But it’s Yarah, a natural telepath, that is most vulnerable to the jabs of blackness shooting out from Jhata. As it forces its way into the young girl’s mind, she reels backward, almost falling from Matt’s grasp.
Jhata smiles. She’s injuring and weakening Yarah with hatred. Turning her eyes from Matt, Jhata focuses her attention on the little girl.
“It hurts!” Yarah screams. “She’s in my mind. Ripping. Tearing. Stop!”
“Enough!” Matt yells at Jhata and sends a tight ball of blue energy out of his Stone at her.
Making no effort to protect herself, Jhata stands firm. The energy slams into her black kimono, dissipating into nothing. The spider insignia glows with the same blue color.
Yarah goes limp in Matt’s arms, her small frame quivering and shaking. She stares up with eyes that plead for the pain to stop.
Another ball of blue energy forms on the tip of Matt’s Stone. He points it at Jhata, but turns and shoots it into the huge glass sphere behind him. It absorbs the blow with no apparent effect, until a round crack the size of an orange pops up. It spreads out like a spider web across the entire surface. The glass groans as it weakens under the pressure of the liquid sealed inside, and then explodes into a mist of tiny diamond shards.
Matt forms a bubble of white energy enclosing himself and Yarah, shielding them from the blast.
For a brief second, the liquid mass inside the sphere keeps its round shape with Leo suspended inside like a fly in amber. As if giving up the ghost, it collapses into a wave that washes over and past Matt and Yarah, carrying Leo out onto the floor where he lies at Jhata’s feet.
He coughs violently, emptying his lungs of the viscous liquid. It rolls off his body, and his skin begins to dry in the open air.
The destruction of the sphere breaks Jhata’s concentration, stopping the flow of malevolence and malice focused on Yarah’s mind.
She reaches her arms up to Matt’s neck. “She’s full of yucky spiders inside,” Yarah whispers. “You won’t leave me and Leo here, will you?”
“Never,” Matt says.
Jhata’s quiet voice pierces the silence. “Don’t worry my child.” She takes a step forward and kicks Leo in the side, gritting her teeth and causing him to groan and roll over on his back. “He’s not going to leave you.”
Yarah looks up. “Then let him go.”
“You don’t understand.” Jhata’s belt of Stones takes on a dark green glow. “None of you are going anywhere.”
CHAPTER 60
The old woman enters the house, followed by Jessica and Eva. Crew members sit in a circle on metal chairs near a black stove in the middle of the room, talking among themselves. They have shed their heavy furs and wear light leather shirts and breeches. None of them are surprised to see Jessica walking in after her accident, and no one asks her about her injured leg or the broken bone.
A wooden rocking chair in the circle is conspicuously empty until the old woman makes her way to it and sits.
The eight-foot-long skull of a beluga whale hangs on the wall like a trophy.
“Eva,” the old woman says. “Take our honored guest to my bedroom in the back. Help her shed these furs. Find clothes in the chest.”
“OK, Aanak,” Eva says.
“What about food, Aanak?” The captain leans back in his chair and looks at the old woman with raised eyebrows. “We’re starving.”
“Lucky for you nanertaks, I knew you were coming. I’ve got a little treat for you.”
The men of the crew clap their hands and whoop and holler. They know what Aanak is talking about.
Jessica follows Eva through a door that shuts behind her. The strong odor of sardines hangs in the air.
Eva inhales. “Muktuk. Fresh whale blubber. Maybe we’ll get some for supper. It’s been a long time.” She strips off her furs and hangs them on hooks sticking out from the wall. Then she goes to an old wooden chest and throws it open, releasing the fragrance of cedar wood mixed with dirty gym socks. Reaching in, she searches and pulls out an armload of clothing, including a light tan top and bottom. “This should work. Seal hide. Nice and soft.”
“Who is she?” Jessica pulls on the oversized clothes and chuckles when she sees how they sag on her body.
“We all call her Aanak,” Eva says. “It means grandmother. She runs the village. Tough as whalebone.” She takes a look at Jessica. “Not exactly Gucci, but it’s the best we can do under the circumstances. They were my mother’s. I hope you don’t mind.”
Jessica sits on the wood chest. “How did she heal me?”
Eva puts on a white leather shirt and pants. “She’s the village angekkok.” She closes her eyes, searching for the English word. “I think you might say shaman. She’s healed many others. It’s part of our culture.” Eve walks to the door. “Let’s get something to eat.”
“Does she have a Stone?”
“She’s never said anything about it, and I’ve never asked. If she does, it’s been well hidden for many years.”
Jessica’s shoulders sag. “Then why did we come he
re? What does Aanak know about the freedom camps?”
“Many years ago, when I was still young, a white man came to our village looking for her.” Eva turns from the door and sits on the wooden chest next to Jessica. “We all remember him. Strange. Short and bald, not much of an adventurer. Not like the other white men who had come before.”
“Little John?”
Eva nods. “He didn’t get his nickname until later. Aanak spent days talking with him. He taught her about the coming Abomination. She gave him the idea for freedom camps, at least that’s the story I’ve always heard. Our village was the first one, the model for all the others. Since then, our people have joined freedom camps all over Canada.”
“I see.”
From out of nowhere, Jessica senses a rising wave of emotion. An image of Matt vanishing from the clearing in the freedom camp comes into her mind. Unable to hold it back any longer, her face goes into her hands. Tremors of despair shake her body.
A hand touches her back.
“He’s OK,” Eva says.
Jessica nods vigorously. “I know. He’s resourceful. And lucky. It’s just that . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t know.” Jessica stands up from the wooden chest. “Ever since I met Matt, we’ve never had a lot of time together, except for the last few months. It was incredible. I wanted it to last forever, but it didn’t. It never does. Sooner or later, events always tear Matt and me apart. I’d like all the craziness to end, so we can just be—”
“Normal?”
“That would be nice.”
“And it’s not going to happen.” Eva stands up. “These are the cards we’ve been dealt. We just have to play them and do our best.”
Roars of laughter rise from the other side of the door.
“Sorry, Jessica, but the pity party’s over. You are the leader, for now. We’ve got a lot to discuss with Aanak. Let’s go eat some muktuk.”
They walk out into the larger room. The men of the crew are gathered close to a table in the center, next to the stove. Aanak is in her rocking chair at the head. Empty seats wait on either side of her.
She waves Eva and Jessica into the seats. “Come, sit with me and join our feast. You are both as skinny as wild amoroks. You must eat your fill of muktuk.” She smiles another toothless grin and her eyes almost disappear beneath folds of ancient skin. A large slab of pinkish flesh with a thick, rubbery hide is laid out on the table.
For Jessica, the stench is overpowering.
Aanak holds a piece of shiny metal her hand. It looks like a rounded triangle with the smaller end resting against her palm and opening out like a fan into a wide sharpened edge near her bony fingertips. With a few deft strokes, she cuts a dozen thin slices of the meat, dumps them on a small wood board and passes it to Jessica.
Nine sets of hungry eyes fall upon the offering.
“Honored guest,” Aanak says. “The first of the muktuk is yours. When the ice all melted, most of our whale friends left or died.” Her eyes go up to the massive skull on the wall. “It is a rare thing to have one come back and offer itself to us. This has been shared among all the villages. Take as much as you dare.”
Jessica bows her head and takes three pieces. Resisting the temptation to smell them, she drops one straight onto her tongue and into her mouth. Closing her eyes and chewing methodically, she imagines that it’s yellowtail tuna, the succulent sashimi she shared with Matt many times.
The actual taste is unlike anything she has eaten. It reminds her of old carpet padding from her grandmother’s house.
Nine sets of eyes wait patiently for her verdict.
“Delicious.” Jessica swallows hard and puts another piece in her mouth, chewing vigorously and swallowing quickly. “Thank you for sharing such a feast with me.” She passes the wood board to the man next to her.
Aanak roars with laughter. “I see you think it is disgusting, just like Kolu-John.”
“Little John,” Eva whispers.
The man next to Jessica eyes the pink delicacies laid out on the board and takes three, like Jessica. Putting all of them in his mouth at once, he closes his eyes and chews slowly, swallowing often.
Someone slams his fist on the table. “Hey, save some for the rest of us.”
“Do not worry, you ningakpok, I have plenty for all.” Aanak cuts more slices, pops one in her mouth and drops the rest on the board. She motions to Eva with her head. “Go get some Kabloona food for our guest. What is left of it. The government has hardened against us. It stops all shipments until we cease to be a freedom camp.”
Eva stands and comes back with two cans of sardines.
The old woman cuts the whale blubber as she talks, passing it to the men. Now and then she slips a slice between her lips.
“What of the other freedom camps?” The captain stares into Aanak’s face.
“Across the world, attitudes have changed overnight.” Aanak shakes her head. “Governments are no longer ignoring the Children. Harassment has begun. A new religion is spreading. It claims to bring peace, but I see only Abomination in its wake.”
“Shinto,” Jessica says. “It’s being promoted by MX Global. Ryzaard.”
“Yes.” Aanak leans back in her creaking chair. “That name has been whispered with terror throughout the freedom camps. The one who murdered Kolu-John. And now he has destroyed the freedom camp in Vancouver. Others will follow.”
“He kills thousands without consequence.” Eva stops chewing. “How is it possible? Where are the laws? Where are the governments to protect their people?”
“Under his control.” Aanak takes up the knife and begins cutting meat again. “I have seen it. In dreams. He pays bribes and makes threats. Controls minds. Heads of state. The police. Leaders of corporations. All of them are silent. All of them live in fear.”
“How do we stop him?” Jessica scans the room, her eyes coming to a stop on Aanak. “Please tell me.”
“I do not know the answer.” Aanak’s leathery hand caresses Jessica’s cheek. “But he will know.”
“Matt and I talked a lot about this.” Jessica shakes her head, tears brimming. “Neither of us knows where to start.”
Aanak wipes Jessica’s eyes with her fingers. “Do not worry. He will know when the time comes.”
“What about Abomination?” The captain drops empty hands to the table, scanning for more to eat. “When will it come?”
“The time is drawing near.” Aanak’s eyes drift up to the smoke-stained ceiling. “I can feel it in my bones. Darkness gathers in the South. More dreams. I have seen it.”
The captain leans forward. “Tell us what you have seen, Aanak.” The table goes silent.
The old woman shuts her eyes. “Scattered images. Multitudes of people kneeling on white seas, bowing in worship. Men in flowing robes. Nation rising against nation. Threats of destruction. Balls of fire rising in the air. Death and devastation. The Children scattered. Blank faces. The entire world, swallowed up by technology. Unable and unwilling to escape. And then the Abomination.”
The captain savors a piece of whale blubber. “But when will it come, Aanak? And what are we to do until the leader comes?”
“It comes soon,” the old woman says. “Hide. Do not fight. Wait for the new leader.”
Jessica finds the shiny eyes on the old woman’s leathery face. “When will I see him? When will I see Matt?”
Aanak drops her hand to Jessica’s knee. “I will never see him. But he will come. For you.” The old woman scans the table. “For all of you. I do not know when. Soon.”
“What about the freedom camps?” Eva touches Aanak on the shoulder. “Has the time come to dissolve them?”
“Not yet,” Aanak says.
Jessica’s eyes sweep the table. “When will the time come? How will we know?”
Aanak takes up another piece of muktuk. “It will be up to you. But wait until after the killing starts. When darkness rises and hope is lost. Not before.” The old woman reach
es up to her neck, bows her head and takes off a necklace made of a simple silver chain running through a hole in a walrus tooth. “This has been handed down to me from the first Angekkok of our people. I have carried it for many years. I now pass my mantle, my responsibility, to you.” She puts the necklace over Jessica’s head and around her neck.
“But I don’t think I can—”
“You can. And you will. Until the new leader finds you, you will lead the freedom camps. They will wait to hear from you.” The old woman turns to Eva, nodding. “And this one will help you.”
The wind howls outside, causing the house to creak and sway. Radio static crackles in a box on the floor next to Aanak. She reaches in with one hand and pulls out an old piece of electronic equipment and sets it roughly on the table. It has dials and a small green display with numbers. Her fingers pick up the handset and bring it close to her mouth. “Are you getting all of this, Franklin?”
A radio voice mixed with static comes out of a speaker. “Read you, loud and clear, Aanak. We’ll all miss you.”
“How about the rest of you?” Aanak says. “Any questions?”
More static. The wind picks up outside the house.
“Wazak here. Got it.”
“Boomer on the line. No questions.”
“Yuri. Understood.”
For the next ten minutes, hundreds of voices of men and women float through the speaker, one by one, each identifying itself by name and giving an answer.
Aanak sits back and slowly chews the muktuk, nodding her head as each of them call in, as if she were mentally checking them off a list. She sits in silence for a long time after the last one speaks.
Without saying anything, Jessica reaches out with her hand and lays it on the old woman’s worn and wrinkled palm, sensing the warmth, squeezing hard.
“I wanted to be here to see it.” Tears trickle down the leathery cheeks of Aanak as she looks across the room. “To see the rise and fall of the Abomination.” She flashes a glance at Jessica. “To see him.”
“Maybe you will.” Jessica’s eyes plead for the old woman to agree.
But Aanak only shakes her head. “No. Only days remain for me. Or hours.” She stares up at the gathered men at the table, letting her eyes sweep past each one and linger for a moment. Then her eyes stop, and she lifts a crooked finger, pointing across the table. “Give me that.”
