She pushed up, helped Casper stand, and looked at him. “Hell of a piece of piloting.”
He looked past Olive, to where the front of the ship had buried itself into the building. “I killed a bakery.”
Olive smiled, rubbed the hair on his head.
She and Casper joined the rest, exiting the ship, filing into the streets, staring back the way they’d come. The dust began to clear, and they saw a giant swath of the city that was simply gone, a massive, burning debris field that stretched for miles, the final resting place of the Citadel.
In its place was an enormous, flickering field of brilliant, glowing energy, growing bigger by the second as the Ephemera of the Assembly, the radiant, crystalline entities, entered and absorbed into it, filling it with their luminance. Silence filled the crowd as they stared in awe at the sight.
The first cheer went up. Then a red Antimatter crystal launched into the air. Then dozens. Then gunfire. Everyone cheered and yelled and hugged, a mass of people, celebrating. Even though they scarcely understood what had happened, there was something monumental about it. It was, unquestionably, a victory.
Olive moved through the crowd, watching in a daze. She saw Avril congratulating her former Helix. Saw Wind Traders shaking hands with Menagerie. Saw Masyn pull Castor to her and kiss him. Saw Isaac, with what was left of his men, sit and lean against a telephone pole and close his eyes, as if waking up from some long nightmare.
And she saw something else. A very specific Landship, its crew disembarking, joining the celebrations.
Dresden led the way and stopped when he saw her. She shook her head and moved toward him.
“Sorry I didn’t get back to you,” he said, “it was kind of a hectic—”
Olive grabbed him and pulled him down to her height and kissed him. He didn’t resist.
When she pulled away … she socked him hard in the stomach for the stress he’d just put her through. He groaned and took a wary step back. “What the—”
“You could have hit those sails anytime!”
“Flair … for the dramatic, I guess.” He winced, holding his stomach. She moved for him again, and he took another step back.
Olive rolled her eyes. “Come here.”
Dresden cautiously moved closer. “You send a lot of mixed signals, you know that?”
“Stop talking,” she whispered, and planted another one on him.
Around them the cheering and celebration continued. In the distance, the Nexus continued to grow, lighting the city, taking the place of the sun which had just set in the ocean. The Ephemera kept filling it, becoming one giant mass of radiance in the sky.
50. WHOLE
MIRA OPENED HER EYES SLOWLY, unsure if she was even alive. Max hovered over her, staring down dubiously, answering the question for her. She smiled and pet the dog, then he trotted away, probably to check on Holt.
Wherever Ambassador had taken them, it was far from where they’d been. Everything was strangely quiet. Thick beams of reddish orange rose into the sky. Giant cables held lengths of asphalt above the ocean. It was a bridge. A famous one, the Golden Gate, spanning what had once been San Francisco Bay. It occurred to Mira, oddly … that it might one day be again.
Mira pushed herself slowly up and looked around. The sun had set, but the light in the distance was almost as bright. The Nexus filled the sky, and the golden light that drizzled down from it lit up the glass in the buildings there, making the whole thing look like some kind of giant altar of votive candles.
Thousands of Ephemera rose up, absorbing into the energy field, one after the other, making it brighter. The sight was impossibly beautiful, and it was only the movement of Holt nearby that dragged her attention away.
The bridge was as perfectly clean as the streets. Holt was nearby, trying to stand, banged and scratched up. Max nudged him to his feet and he and Mira stared at one another in a surreal haze.
There was a weak, distorted rumbling from nearby.
Ambassador’s shell lay crumpled, smoking and sparking. They could see where the pieces of the sharpened black debris from the Citadel had punctured its armor, and they stuck out at every angle.
Mira and Holt moved it. The sparks meant the walker was still powered, but she couldn’t sense Ambassador inside. Either it was too weak … or it was gone.
She put her hand on the armor, reached into the machine. There was a weak presence there, slight color that dimmed in the dark, but it was fading.
Mira shut her eyes sadly.
It didn’t seem fair that this is how it would end. The rest of its kind were being absorbed into the Nexus and to whatever future awaited them. The thought that Ambassador, the best of them, the one who had fought from the very beginning for this moment would be left out infuriated her.
She punched the armor in frustration.
“What?” Holt asked.
“It’s just…” she started, but couldn’t finish, looking back at the ever-growing field of energy.
“Not fair,” Holt finished for her. Mira nodded. “Is it gone?”
“Not yet.”
“Then there’s a chance.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. It can’t leave its armor, it’s going to fade inside.”
“Why can’t it leave?” Holt, she knew, was looking for a solution. It was maybe his most endearing trait, a refusal to blindly accept defeat.
“It can’t push out,” she told him. “It’s too weak.”
“What if it could?”
Mira sighed. “It couldn’t live outside in the open, it would fade too quickly.”
“But it’s right there. Look!” He pointed at the Nexus, maybe five miles away, above all the buildings. “It doesn’t have to survive that long, once it gets back there—”
“It will be recharged,” Mira concluded, thinking now.
“There has to be a way to get it out, to give it a shot at least.”
There was one way, she’d done it before, recently, allowed two of the entities to pass through her. She could probably do something similar now, draw Ambassador into the air, give it part of her strength. But …
“I’d need your help,” she told Holt. “It’s so weak I don’t think I can find it on my own, but if we both try, together…”
Holt didn’t hesitate. “What do you need me to do?”
Mira smiled. “Are you sure? It’s going to hurt.”
“It saved your life,” he answered. “Mine too.”
Mira touched him gently, thankful … then turned and placed both her hands on Ambassador’s broken shell.
“What do I do?” Holt asked.
“Put your hands on me,” she said. “I’m going to pull your mind inside the machine, then try and find Ambassador. If I do, and I can pull it out, it will pass through both of us. I can try and give it some of our strength. Are you ready?”
Holt wrapped his arms around her waist, pushed in close. “Ready.”
Max whined under them, uncertain.
Mira closed her eyes, took a deep breath … and reached into Ambassador’s shell with her mind. There was nothing but darkness, no color, no light. She felt her heart sink. Maybe it was already gone?
Mira reached back and touched Holt’s mind, let its familiar confidence give her strength. Together they pushed inside further, exploring the dark, looking for any sign of consciousness.
Finally, she saw it.
A dim, flickering spark of color, twirling reds against purple. She felt her heart accelerate, pressed forward, pulling Holt with her.
Ambassador was weak, barely any sentience or energy left, but she reached out to it nonetheless. Mira felt a slight twinge from it, a hint of fondness, recognition. It was still there, Ambassador was alive.
She poured all her energy and intention into it, borrowing what she could from Holt, adding his focus to her own, suggesting to the dying entity what she intended, what she wanted it to do.
It flared slightly, grew brighter, as if committed not
to give up.
Ambassador’s presence moved toward her … and fire-like pain lanced through her body.
In the background, she felt Holt’s arms flex around her, knew the sensations had seared over him as well.
Mira fought the dizziness and pain. It grew more intense, building and flaring as the faded colors of Ambassador tunneled through her and Holt, pushing on, burning bright, finally passing through the dark into the outside air.
As it did, Mira held on, pushing into it as much of her mental energy as she could, trying to fortify it, to give it enough life to finally get where it had longed to be for so long.
Then it was done. Mira collapsed to the ground, and Holt fell beside her. Max was on top of both of them, whining and barking.
Mira weakly opened her eyes.
In the air hovered Ambassador, its intricate crystalline form filled with purple, like an amethyst of pure energy, but nowhere near as vibrant as it had once been. The crystalline structure seemed to fluctuate, to break and remake itself. It had managed to escape its shell, but it wasn’t going to last long.
Still, it hesitated, staring down at her, lighting the bridge in violet hues. Mira could sense its feelings. Affection. Sadness, knowing it would never see her again … and deep gratitude.
Mira soaked them in, letting them fill her, but she knew it had little time.
Go, she projected. Hurry.
Ambassador hovered a moment more,… then it flashed and floated away, over the edge of the bridge, over the bay, headed toward the others that were rising up into the sky toward the Nexus.
Holt sat up and leaned back against the smoking remains of Ambassador’s armor. Mira did too. The pain was receding, the memory fading. Max squirmed his way in between them, and they both pet his head.
“Well,” Holt finally said. “That hurt a lot.”
“Perfect end to a perfect day,” Mira agreed.
Both of them breathed in and out, exhausted and spent, too tired to move.
“Feels like forever since I just … sat down,” Holt said.
They stayed that way a long time, watching Ambassador disappear within the mass of other entities, blending into them, watching the Nexus continue to grow.
“Look,” Holt said, nodding to where the buildings met the ocean. There was something huge there, made of the same black metal as the Citadel, but nowhere near as big. It was also something Mira had seen before.
An Assembly Presidium, one of the giant baseships that had barreled out of the sky years ago. Looking closer, Mira saw why Holt had pointed it out.
Just visible in the light from the Nexus, she could see thousands of tiny dots exiting the structure, slowly walking out of its gateways and into the city ruins. They were people, she suddenly realized, and given where they were coming from, it became clear who they were.
“Oh my God…” Mira breathed, and she slipped her hand into Holt’s.
It was the Succumbed. No longer affected by the Tone because the Tone was gone. Adults. Their parents and siblings and everyone they had lost. What they were watching here was probably repeating in every Presidium in the world.
Mira felt an odd emotion form as she watched the tiny figures. “I’m scared,” she whispered, “and I don’t know why.”
Holt squeezed her hand. “Because it’s all changed. Everything’s new, all over again.”
Mira looked back to the Nexus, watching it swirl and flash, colors of all kinds blending in and out of it.
She could feel the projections coming from the sky, and they were similar emotions to hers. Excitement. Apprehension. Elation. The Assembly were at a crossroads too. In spite of all they had done, she was happy for them. She hoped, with whatever new destiny awaited them, that they could begin to undo all the darkness they had caused. Maybe they could make it all mean something.
“Can you feel her?” Holt asked.
Mira smiled and nodded, closing her eyes, concentrating. “Zoey has her own colors within it all. She’s … beautiful.”
“What will they do now?”
“They don’t know,” Mira answered. “Leave. Travel. Explore. Everything the Nexus had always hoped they would. The same thing is happening all over the world, at all the Citadels. When they leave, it will be as one Whole. Zoey brought them together in a way they never dreamed they could be.”
As Mira spoke, there was an ironic melancholy to knowing that when the Nexus was gone, the host of feelings and projections that crowded her mind would be gone as well. She’d grown used to the sensations, to the thoughts of the others. She’d come to see them as family.
“She loved you, you know,” Holt said quietly.
Thoughts of Zoey swirled in her head, memories she would always have. She would always be with her. “I know.”
There was a pause before Holt spoke next, feeling the words before expressing them. “I love you.”
Mira sighed. Emotion and warmth spread through her. They were just words. Words that events had almost denied her of hearing, but the relief she felt at finally hearing them was intense. She had no idea just how much she had wanted those words until now. “I love you too.”
She held Holt’s hand tighter, never wanting to let go. “I know we said no more promises,” Mira told him, echoing something he’d said to her once before, “but, whatever happens next … promise that you’ll always be here. With me.”
Holt slowly turned to her. She did the same, studying his brown eyes, his disheveled hair, the calmness he exuded. Everything about him made her feel safe, made her feel home.
“Where else would I be?” he asked. Then he leaned in, slowly, and his lips found hers. They kissed while Max rested between them, eyes closed serenely.
In the distance, beyond the bay, thousands of survivors walked slowly out of the Presidium. Landships gently rolled to a stop in front of the enormous structure, their colorful sails the first sight Earth’s adults had seen in years. The crews watched, nervous, apprehensive … then slowly, the two groups moved toward one another.
Above, the Ephemera glided up, absorbing into the Nexus, thousands of them, bits of golden light that streaked across the sky. They would leave soon, as one Whole, and when they did, they would be like every other form of life in the universe.
Where they went didn’t matter, what mattered was that they were free … and no longer alone.
ALSO BY J. BARTON MITCHELL
Midnight City
The Severed Tower
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
J. Barton Mitchell is a creator and writer of speculative fiction living in Los Angeles.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
VALLEY OF FIRES. Copyright © 2014 by J. Barton Mitchell. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.thomasdunnebooks.com
www.stmartins.com
Cover photographs: landscape © Trevillion Images; symbol, fire, oil rigs © Shutterstock; man © Christophe Dessaine/Trevillion Images; girl © Arcangel Images
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to [email protected].
The Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.
ISBN 978-1-250-00948-7 (hardcover)
ISBN 978-1-250-02071-0 (e-book)
e-ISBN 9781250020710
First Edition: December 2014
is book with friends
Valley of Fires: A Conquered Earth Novel (The Conquered Earth Series) Page 43
