by Jacob Whaler
The captain reaches over and grabs the pulse rifle, propped up against the table a few feet away. It is passed around until it comes to the old woman. She wraps her fingers on the silver metal barrel and grips it tightly.
“I thought you only used the old musket,” the captain says. “I didn’t know you could use one of those.”
Aanak smiles. “It’s not for me.” She hands it to Jessica. “Keep this close. Always. Until he comes.”
The wind suddenly dies. The house stops creaking and swaying. A profound silence engulfs the room.
Then, from far away, a sound floats into the stillness. They all hear it with their ears. Vibrations play in their chests.
Thump, thump, thump.
CHAPTER 61
“You sure about this?”
“You read the reports.” Ryzaard looks up from the co-pilot’s chair in the darkness of the transport cockpit, stirred to life by the sound of Alexa’s voice in his earphones. “After the assault on the Vancouver freedom camp, they slapped a tracking device on that submarine vessel and let it go. It went straight north, to the exact location of one of the three remaining Stones. Why wouldn’t I go after it?”
“She’s there, isn’t she?”
“Who?”
“Jessica. Matt’s girlfriend.” Alexa slurs her words as the sound of champagne being poured into a glass plays in the background.
“That’s what the report said. They saw her board the vessel.”
“You not only want to destroy him, you want to destroy everyone that knows him.” Alexa takes a drink. “Why?”
Ryzaard shakes his head in disgust. “She’s dangerous, that’s why. She’s been with the kid for the last several months. And she’s seen our operations. Knows our intentions. I can’t afford to leave her alive. You know I’m right.”
“But I’ve met her and talked with her. I might even be friends with her if it weren’t for—” She pauses as if searching for the right word.
Ryzaard rolls his eyes. He doesn’t have time to listen to Alexa’s rambling drunk thoughts.
“Having friends is a bad idea,” he says. “They compromise your dedication to the cause.”
“Or point you in the right direction.” Alexa belches. “Besides, it’s so far north. I have a funny feeling about this. The Inuit are a mysterious people.”
Ryzaard chuckles to himself. “I’m not superstitious. And the Inuit are no more mysterious than anyone else.”
“But these are a primitive people. Little contact with civilization. They’re more—”
“More what?” The irritation is evident in Ryzaard’s voice.
Alexa sighs. “I don’t know. Pure. Innocent. We shouldn’t worry about them. Or kill them. I don’t want their blood on my hands.”
“You’ve already got so much blood on your hands that a little more won’t matter.” Ryzaard looks out the window at the barren wasteland a hundred meters below. Attack-helis push forward into the night on either side of the one he rides in. For thousands of miles, there’s been nothing but windblown ice and rocks on the landscape. “So do I. And it’s all for a good cause. It’s the price we pay for being the ones that will bring Paradise to the Earth. Nobody’s going to miss a couple dozen Eskimos. Nobody will even know they’re gone. We’ve scattered a few hundred million IMUs across the Canadian ministries for good measure. It’s always the same story. They’re glad to take the money and happy to cover up what we do.”
Alexa’s voice trembles. “You’re going to wipe out the entire village?”
“To the last child. I’d be a fool to do anything else.”
The line goes silent for several seconds before Ryzaard realizes that Alexa has hung up.
CHAPTER 62
Leo lies on the floor between them.
“Give me the child and your Stone, and I may decide to make your death quick and painless.” Jhata steps in front of Leo.
Matt stands in the middle of the two broken spheres, their glass shattered and lying scattered on the floor with the remnants of the sticky goo they once contained.
“Funny.” Matt’s eyes drop to Leo. “I was going to tell you the exact same thing.” He puts Yarah gently to the ground, still holding her close with his left hand, keeping a wary eye on Jhata. He whispers in Yarah’s ear. “Lock your mind against her. Keep her out. Don’t let her in.”
Yarah nods, her eyes narrowing with focus.
“Is that a challenge?” Jhata takes a wide stance with her feet apart and drops her hands to the side, like a gunfighter, a Stone tightly gripped in each one. Darts of black energy flash out, dissipating against the transparent white bubble protecting Matt and Yarah.
“You’ll have to do better than that, bitch.” Matt grins, hoping the provocation will throw Jhata off.
“Oh, I have every intention of doing better than that.” Jhata lets loose a barrage of black energy pulses, peppering the protective film covering Matt and Yarah. Ripples move wildly across its surface.
The realization comes to Matt that she might be probing his defenses, searching the barrier he has thrown up, preparing for an onslaught that will finish the job.
He doesn’t know whether that is possible or not.
“You don’t think I can kill you, do you?” Jhata shifts her weight back and forth. “You think you’re the Chosen One, the only one to pass through the Eye of the Universe and live.”
Matt doesn’t answer. His mind races for a way out. Even if he could jump away, he would have to leave Leo with her.
Unacceptable.
Keep your focus. Don’t let her distract you. Don’t let her hurt Leo.
Jhata’s eyes drop to Leo. “You see, that’s the problem with love. Causes you to lose focus. Pulls at your emotions. Makes you weak.” She kneels and places the point of a Stone on the side of Leo’s head. “He’s very much alive. And we all know how sensitive our Leo is.”
Leo cries out in pain, his body writhing on the floor.
“No!” Yarah says. “Please don’t hurt him.”
Jhata looks up. “If you love him, my child, then show me by coming here. He desperately needs your help.”
Yarah tries to move forward, but Matt holds her back. “No, Yarah. Don’t listen to her.”
“Don’t listen to him.” Jhata touches the Stone, now glowing green, to Leo’s head near his closed eye.
His spine arches and mouth opens wide. A primal scream wracks his body.
“But Leo needs my help.” Lines of tears streak Yarah’s face. She pulls on Matt’s arm. “He helped me. Now I have to help him.” Her eyes look up at Matt, pleading. “Let me go.”
Matt kneels and stares into Yarah’s brown eyes. “If I let you go, I’ll never see you again. I don’t want that to happen.” He lifts a finger and wipes away her tears. “Now I’m going to ask you to be brave and not listen to anything Jhata says. She’s a liar. She’ll say anything to get what she wants. Do you understand?”
Yarah stares back into Matt’s eyes and nods her head.
He unwinds his arms from her body, letting her stand on her own by his side.
“Oh, the difficulties that love and honor plunge us into. Better to live without their limitations. That is true freedom.” Jhata stands up and puts her hands on her hips. “But enough of this meaningless drama.” Her eyelids drop for split second. When the long lashes touch down, a blinding flash lights up the air enveloping them all.
New smells fill Matt’s nostrils.
Jhata has jumped them to a new location. Matt does a quick scan of their surroundings.
He and Yarah stand in the exact position they were in before, still enveloped in a protective white bubble over their bodies. Jhata and Leo are there too. Only now they find themselves in the middle of a crowded marketplace. The aroma of roasted meat and pickled vegetables drifts past them, strong, but pleasant. They see tables laden with baskets of fruit the shape of pears with colors of deep red and blue, and purple grapes the size of oranges.
“A change
of scenery.” Jhata gazes at the people walking by, women with long flowing hair and colorful robes, men dressed in billowing pants with skullcaps on their heads. Children run freely among them, some playing games of hide and seek, others throwing balls that magically bounce back into their hands.
All of them are oblivious to the presence of Jhata and Matt, Yarah and Leo.
“Welcome to Queelum,” Jhata says. “A world of extreme pacifists in a far corner of my domains. Unlike Earth, this is a peace-loving society. Incredibly empathetic people. They share each other’s pain, making war and violence impossible. When I appeared among them and threatened to kill one child, the entire planet bowed to me and became my loyal subjects, almost overnight.”
“Why are we here?” Matt’s heart grows sick, knowing the answer before Jhata even speaks.
“They can’t see or hear us. Or our weapons. You hurt one of them and you hurt all of them.” Jhata tweaks her neck. “A perfect place to do battle, no?”
Matt immediately changes the configuration of the energy membrane engulfing him and Yarah to a hazy green.
“Let’s see if it holds.” Jhata bends forward and raises two Stones in her hands, mimicking a gunslinger from an old Western movie. All of the Stones on her belt glow like fire. Gold lightning shoots out from her hands, ripping through the crowd. The sound of thunder causes the marketplace and the ground beneath it to tremble.
This time, the energy burst from Jhata penetrates Matt’s protective bubble and breaks against the blue armor on his chest, sending out ripples of pain, like tearing flesh, through his body core.
He stumbles forward and falls to the ground, grabbing Yarah’s ankle.
Screams of terror fill the marketplace.
When Matt looks up, a line of torn and mangled bodies lies between him and Jhata, all of them burnt and blown apart by the force of her energy blast. Some of the people gather close to the fallen victims, staring in horror, unable to control an outpouring of emotional agony for their fallen loved ones. Others gather children and spouses in their arms and rush to leave the marketplace.
“We can’t let them get away, can we?” Jhata says. “After all, the show isn’t over yet.”
A single vertical wall of polished gray metal shoots out of the ground in a perfect circle ten meters high, enclosing the marketplace in a large arena. The people stare in confusion, frantic and scared.
Matt stands on his feet. “Only a coward would do this to these people. It serves no purpose.” He gently places Yarah behind him, whispering in her ear. “Close your eyes and hold on to me.”
Jhata opens her arms. “Of course it serves a purpose. I want to see your true love and compassion in action. Drop your shield and lay down your Stone so these innocent people will be spared.”
“You’re a monster.” Matt changes the energy configuration again, making it tighter so it takes on a pale red with an almost metallic surface.
“Agreed.”
Leaving Leo lying on the ground, Jhata walks a dozen meters to the right into the middle of a crowd of dazed people milling next to the wall, looking for an escape. She raises two Stones in her hands. Massive tongues of orange plasma pour out across the gap between her and Matt, turning everything and everyone it touches into combustible material. People run about wildly, transformed into torches, until they drop to the ground like burnt corncobs.
Matt stands erect, eyes open, witnessing the carnage. The plasma flames engulf the energy membrane protecting him and Yarah, and he is forced to make constant micro-adjustments to keep it intact.
“You see,” Jhata says. “The real question is how many people are you willing to watch die while doing nothing to protect them. You may call that love. I call it cowardice.” Her eyes drop to the smoldering corpses and wailing bystanders kneeling beside them. “They’re nothing more than ants to me. It’s nothing to kill them. But you, you are different. You claim to live by a moral code imposed by someone else. Or so you say. Show me that love is more than just idle emotion. Show me what it can do.”
Matt’s fingers squeeze into fists. And then he forces them to relax and open.
Don’t take the bait.
He looks at Yarah, holding her Stone in trembling fingers, clinging to Matt. He tries to hide the destruction from her, but she has seen it already, her face wet with tears.
Her eyes meet his. “Can’t we do anything to help them?”
Jhata stands with her back to the wall.
The crowd moves away to the other side of the marketplace, leaving smoldering corpses scattered on the ground. The people move to the wall, desperately search for a way out of the hell erupting around them. Mothers grab their children and hold them close. Smoke floats like a shroud in the air.
Calmly walking across the blackened ground, Jhata slips into the center of the mass of people.
Matt briefly locks eyes with her before looking away.
He kneels close to Yarah. “Watch what I’m doing with my Stone.” He takes her hand, opens the small palm and lays it on his own fingers near his Stone. “Can you make a bubble like this? Close your eyes and come into my mind so you can see what I’m doing.”
Yarah closes her eyes. “I’m inside now.”
“See the energy? Can you feel it?” Matt glances back at Jhata.
“Yes. Like a huge flower blooming around you.”
“See how I hold it in my mind, how I can change the pattern, open and close it, higher and lower, in and out, always different, always flowing.” Matt watches as Jhata drops her arms to the side, getting into her battle stance in the middle of a crowd of women and children, none of them aware of her presence. “Get ready, Yarah. We’re going to get hit again. Watch carefully when it comes. See how I change the pattern.”
Tiny green spheres of neon light jump out of Jhata’s Stones in a steady stream. They pass cleanly through each woman and child standing in the line of fire, opening holes in arms and heads, chests and bellies, like hot knives passing through layers of wax, and finally slamming against the thin film of energy floating above Matt and Yarah.
The force of the impact throws them back, leaving deep indents in the shield that quickly fill in. It holds together under a barrage lasting half a minute, as Matt seamlessly adjusts the energy field to the changing pattern of Jhata’s attack.
Screams of terror rip the crowd apart. Villagers drop to their knees, eyes pleading to the heavens. Dust hangs heavy, mixing with smoke from the smoldering corpses.
In the chaos, Matt sees a line of people between him and Jhata writhing in agony in the dust.
An old man in a flowing robe walks to the other end of the line, only meters from Jhata, followed by a wailing woman. He brings both hands up to his neck, grasps the robe and, with a downward thrust, rips it apart. The crowd pulls away as the old man scans the air in front of his eyes, searching for something. Raising his gaze to the clouds, he cries out in agony.
He pulls a dagger from his robe, straightens his arms in front, plunges it into his chest and drops to the ground.
The old woman standing beside him buries her face in her hands and falls on top of the dead body.
“We have to stop her,” Yarah says. “Too many people dying.” Fresh tears well up in her eyes.
“Maybe I can, with your help,” Matt says. “Did you see how I worked the energy shield?”
A young boy in the crowd goes crazy and begins yelling and throwing handfuls of dust in the air.
“I don’t know if I can do it.”
“Just relax,” Matt says. “Now watch me again. Once you figure it out, we might be able to help the people.”
A crying child runs across their line of sight and falls on the corpse of a young woman just a few feet away.
Yarah purses her lips in a new show of determination. “It’s like holding fire in your mind. Jhata’s trying to poke holes in it. You have to keep the energy moving and fill in the holes. It goes wherever you want it to go.”
“Right. Now, do you thin
k you can do it with your Stone?”
Yarah opens her eyes, looks up and nods. “I’ll try.”
A breeze stirs the heavy metallic scent of blood in the courtyard.
“Good.” Matt stands. “Now remember to keep it moving, always changing. Don’t be afraid.” He waits until she has generated her own protective energy field, then he walks a couple of steps away.
Fear flashes in Yarah’s eyes. “What if something happens to you?”
“It won’t. I promise.”
People are stacking wooden crates, trying in desperation to climb over the wall. Climbing over each other. Fathers throwing their children.
Yarah stands silently for a moment. “But what if she kills you?”
“Can you feel the way back to your world?”
“Yes.” Yarah closes her eyes again. “Yes, I remember the way.”
“Then leave me and jump there as soon as the path is open.”
“What about Leo?”
Matt smiles. “No more questions, little one. I won’t leave him. Now concentrate on that shield.”
He turns and walks to Jhata.
CHAPTER 63
Thump, thump, thump.
Jessica is the first to jump up, grabbing the pulse rifle and running to the front door, almost overturning the stove. She opens the door and peers out.
Without a word, Eva runs in the opposite direction to the back room and emerges with her arms full of boots, fur coats and leggings for her and Jessica.
“What’s going on?” the captain says.
Jessica runs back to the table. “Everyone get dressed and get out of here. It’s Ryzaard. He knows we’re here. Must have traced the submarine.” She slips into the leggings and coat and looks at the men lounging at the table chewing the last of the muktuk. “Get your clothes on and get out onto the ice. Now.”
The captain leans back in his chair. “Now wait just a minute. We ran a check of the hull to make sure there were no tracers.” He bends forward, reaching for another slice of succulent whale blubber. “It’s probably the provincial government, making the rounds, checking the outer villages. Nothing to worry about.”
