They were prepared to head to Earth. I sensed their urgency. Their passion. This was their Exodus, a world promised to the Zalt by Yeral. They’d sacrificed so much to get here. Everything.
I had to stop them. My own energy force was fighting to escape, but I understood how to contain it. I knew what happened to Yeral since the Objects had arrived and the Umir roamed our planet. He had attempted to attune with a man named Claude Giroux. Someone had blocked him… I gasped through the alien lungs as the sensation hit me. Dirk Walker, my father, had expunged him. It was incredible. Because of that, Yeral had sought another powerful enough to link with, and that had been my sister, Beverly.
This was becoming a real family affair.
My knees were wobbly, but I was able to prop myself up on the box. I lunged for the next case and continued to walk through, staying underneath the hovering essences. I knew these Zalt, and they greeted me in my mind. I sent calming assurances back.
It was clear that Earth was in chaos.
I knew how to check. The tower pulsed, and I went to it like a moth to a flame. A few other Zalt had emerged from their boxes, and they strolled around in their physical forms, talking quietly.
The more I walked, the easier it became, and soon I was behaving like I’d always lived in this body. It was weak, but the essence inside kept it moving.
The computer wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen, but Yeral knew everything about it. His two fingers tapped and utilized the strange buttons, bringing up screens and programs. I wanted to see if they’d managed to link the hub. That was first and foremost.
When the information scrolled from down to up, right to left, Yeral translated the data for me. The Umir had been deactivated. I was so relieved. This was good news.
But the swirling masses of essences told me another story. My people… Yeral’s people were anxious to descend regardless. This would kill many humans. The way I understood it, each Zalt would attempt connection with a mind, and if it failed, the person would die, but the Zalt’s essence continued until it found a proper link. Until they were attuned. The results would be catastrophic.
“Terul quanti veerlop seeclet.” The time to descend is now.
Twenty of the Zalt had amassed right behind me. At the forefront was my biggest—I had to correct myself again—was Yeral’s biggest competitor for the Zalt’s leadership. It was Mezpa.
I spoke back, using their language. “We cannot do this. There’s another way.”
They wouldn’t know it was me. I needed this to work.
“There is no other way, Yeral,” Mezpa said.
“Yes.” I pointed at the thousands of essences occupying the deck. “Rimia.”
“Rimia. We’ve tried. It cannot sustain us,” Mezpa said. Their eyes were huge, their frame smaller than mine.
“You are wrong. I have seen it. The region we resided in has begun to regrow. The planet has much life, and nothing to prevent our existence.” I watched them closely and thought some of Mezpa’s loyal followers might listen.
“No. We descend now. We are ready. I will not…”
The lifeforms were restless, flashing colors over their boxes.
“Stop what you’re doing!” The words were Zalt, but the tone was strange. I looked to the right and saw a ghost walking for me. It was my father. A Zalt’s energy force trailed behind him, both figures semi-transparent.
“Dad?” I asked in English. The word came out with a terrible accent.
Dirk eyed me curiously. A hovering Zalt in energy form floated ahead of my father’s apparition. “Mezpa, what have you done?”
The alien walked toward Dirk’s companion and shook her head. She had slits for a nose, and a small oval mouth. It crept into a grin as she jammed her hand into the being. His energy shook and burst in a bright explosion. When the light dimmed, he was gone.
“Anyone else?” She started walking toward me, arm outstretched.
7
“Where is he?” Veronica asked again.
Jessica glanced up, her eyes red-lined. “I don’t know. This estate has a room in the basement. Supposed to be a duplicate of the one you utilized in Porto. I haven’t seen the original, but I’ve spent many hours studying this version.”
Tripp glared past the Sovereign to the soldiers. Veronica could feel his agitation. He was used to being in control of himself, and it was killing him to be sitting on the sidelines while someone else decided their fate.
Rex was so important to… her. She thought about his gentle eyes, the smirk he used when she walked into a room. The casual way he carried himself. He was intense when he needed to be, and relaxed when it suited him.
Veronica had always thought herself broken. Since the loss of her father as a little girl, she’d let that define her. Not directly, but it had set off a series of events that had led to her making one bad decision after another. She’d blinked and she was in her late thirties, still pretending she didn’t have to plan for a real future.
Rex grounded her in a sense no other human ever had, and now he was with the leader of the Zalt. She feared the worst. They’d been gone for over an hour, maybe longer.
Her gaze kept lifting to the sky, which had emerged into a pale pink color. A gentle breeze enveloped the yard, coming from the ocean, and she stared at her hands, wanting to fight her way out of here and to Rex’s side.
“Don’t do it,” Jessica said.
“Do what?” Tripp asked.
“I can sense the spirit in both of you. But these men will shoot you.”
“Then tell them not to,” Veronica said.
“You’re not seeing this properly,” Jessica told her.
Veronica stared at the woman, and then at the soldiers. She was a prisoner with them. “Why?” Veronica inquired.
“I spent twenty years fighting for this day, and all I want to do is throw up.” Jessica leaned into her hands, her long dark hair falling onto her knees. “What was I thinking? It’s like I was dreaming this entire time. In a daze.”
“Don’t think I won’t kill you just the same,” Tripp muttered.
“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Jessica glanced at the estate. “They should have descended.”
Veronica didn’t have a watch on, and the soldiers had taken all their personal belongings. “You’re right.”
It was so calm. Something must have transpired.
“Hey, you!” Tripp barked.
The nearest soldier stared blankly, unresponsive.
“You! What’s going on? Can you tell? I think your buddies are screwed. That’ll suck when nobody else comes and we hunt you down, won’t it?” Tripp started to stand up but kept seated when the M4 barrel lifted and aimed at his face. “Yep. The tables are turning.”
Veronica observed the man: a young kid, probably twenty. He’d had dreams too, but now he was infested by a Zalt. She couldn’t believe that her father, Clayton Belvedere, had lived for years, sharing his mind with one. It must have been terrible. At least she’d seen him again. They’d both gotten some closure. She missed having him around.
She kept expecting something big to transpire, like another meteor shower, or bloody clouds again, but it was eerily peaceful. Seagulls shrieked from the coast. Songbirds sang from the trees. Life went on.
Maybe Marcus had succeeded. Rex was planning to attune with the Zalt inside his sister, and there was a chance that had occurred. It didn’t make sense to Veronica, but she was trusting people with more experience. Just like they trusted her to fly a helicopter or, more recently, a Rodax spaceship. She peered past the knocked-over chairs and the trampled yard to see the dark hull of the vessel.
The soldier flinched, his aim directing skyward.
Jessica looked up, her eyes haunted. “Something’s happening.”
____________
Mezpa came for the being at the computer terminal, but Dirk had heard the single word escape the alien’s mouth.
Dad? It had been a question.
“Rex?” Dirk
asked while moving. He stared at the thing’s eyes and saw they weren’t black like the others. They were the same shade as Rexford’s. He’d never forget what they looked like, nor Beverly’s.
“It’s me,” the skinny creature said.
“She killed Rewa,” Dirk muttered.
“We’ve been deceived!” Mezpa shouted, rushing Rex. She’d destroyed his ally. Dirk had seen the Zalt’s energy vanish with his own eyes. In a cruel twist of fate, Rewa had been cast aside by the one he loved.
Rex lifted his spindly arms defensively, but Dirk was there to come between them. She touched him, and he screamed. It was like his soul was being torn away one stitch at a time, but he persevered. Instead of giving in, he reached out, clutching her by the shoulders. He felt what she was attempting to do and projected it on her. As her face contorted from anger to fear, he knew he was winning.
She screamed, letting loose a series of accusations, but it was too late. Dirk snuffed her essence, sending it to the void. Energy is neither created nor destroyed. Her real body tumbled to the floor, lifeless.
Dirk felt himself being pulled away. He locked gazes with Rex and nodded. “Stop them…” And he was gone.
____________
The scene had changed in the blink of an eye. I tried to process what I’d witnessed. Mezpa had destroyed Rewa and tried to obliterate my Zalt body, but my father had intervened. How he’d come to be here was another mystery.
Mezpa lay on the floor, and her associate rolled her over, slowly coming to stare at me.
“She’s gone.”
They rushed me, energy and organic versions. Yeral hadn’t become their leader by being weak. I lifted a hand, shooting a barrier between us. They fought the invisible wall, colors popping and crackling as the shapes pressed against it.
This went on for ten seconds or so, until they realized they couldn’t breach it. They slowly floated away, resigned to their fate.
“There is no room for fighting. Earth is not viable. The network is destroyed. We have another option. We can return to Rimia. I’m also positive the Rodax will assist us. We can stop running. There’s no more Exodus, meaning no more desperation.”
Some of the energy blots lowered into their black boxes, and I watched as hundreds of Zalt emerged from their sleeping states.
“We’ve come all this way. What of those we’ve left behind?” the tallest Zalt asked, pointing down.
I could bring them home to the Objects. Yeral had this information. I was able to return their essences to their bodies. I was sure of it.
I accessed the computer, and some of the Zalt began shouting, crying out their reservations. Mezpa’s people seemed to have my back, and they formed a protective line around me.
The Zalt I’d been talking with came to my side. “Are you certain Rimia will work? Can we thrive there?”
“Yes.” I saw the network was off and continued, finding the screen that showed how many Zalt were on the surface. Thirty thousand and seventy-two. I couldn’t tell if the humans they’d inhabited would survive the mass evacuation, and Yeral’s memories didn’t have the answer. It was a risk I had to take.
“And the Rodax? How is it you’ve spoken to them?” the Zalt asked.
I stopped. “They came to me in a dream.”
This seemed to satisfy him.
My wide finger hung over the screen. A single push, and every Zalt on Earth would be relinked into their bodies.
I hit the button.
____________
Bill had lived a good life. He knew this. It wasn’t perfect, nor humanitarian, but it had been his. This was the last thing he thought of when the explosion rocked the ground they stood on, huddled together.
This was also what he thought when he opened his eyes some time later.
He sat up, gasping for air, and looked around, finding Marcus and Evan sleeping on the floor beside him. “Where am I?” His throat was raw, and it burned like the devil’s pitchfork.
An enthusiastic Rodax poked her head from the cabin and smiled. “You’re safe.”
Bill looked at his arms and saw they were swathed in bandages. Everything hurt like hell.
The others were in the same position, Evan with white dressings over half his face. His suit was burned, his tie removed. Marcus groaned, and his burnt fingers twitched.
“You saved us,” Bill croaked.
“The moment you shut the shield off, we came.” The female soldier had a few bandages too.
Bill accepted a water bottle from the alien. “You risked yourselves to retrieve us.”
“You are heroes. We couldn’t let you die,” she said almost casually.
“And the rest of the world. What’s happening?” He wiped water from his chin. He’d guzzled half the bottle, despite the pain it caused.
“We can’t be certain, but we think they’re gone,” she answered.
“Gone?” Bill blinked and started to laugh. It made him cough, which felt like it might kill him.
“We’re going into orbit.”
“Like outer space?” Bill asked.
She nodded. “Gren wishes to be certain they’re departing.”
They’d damned well done it. Bill shook Evan’s arm, and the man rolled onto his side. He looked over with a swollen eye. “Bill… you’re alive.”
“So are you, my friend.”
Marcus was out, and he appeared worse off than Bill or Evan. “Is he…”
“He’ll be fine,” the Rodax woman assured him. “It’s the medication. In a couple of days, you will all be healed.”
“Incredible,” Bill whispered. He got to his feet, testing his legs, and helped Evan up. “I have to see this.”
Together, they left Marcus sleeping and headed past the soldiers to Gren. Bill stared through the cockpit’s window, examining the blackness of space beyond. They’d left Earth. For a minute, Bill forgot about the pain and the horrible few days they’d endured. He observed as the ship sped farther from their planet.
It was some time later when Gren indicated he’d seen the first Object, which was advancing deeper into the system. “They are leaving,” Gren mumbled. Bill caught a waver in his voice. “It is done.”
Bill glanced at Evan and watched a tear flush from his swollen eyes.
Humanity endured.
____________
Beverly sat beside Rex, holding his head in her lap. He breathed steadily but was unresponsive since she’d woken here. Part of her recalled a Bridge, but it was distant, like déjà vu, or trying to evoke a nightmare.
She didn’t remember much of the last day. She’d been with her children, but the woman had come and torn her from them. That was the worst part of it. Alan Black was there, preaching to his cult followers. Had she seen Saul?
Bev glanced at her hand and saw it clenched like a claw. She’d… killed Saul. Only it hadn’t been her; it was the other. The voice from her dreams. Yeral. She could hear Saul’s last gasping breath escape her fingers.
Rex stirred, his eyes opened, his pupils constricted. She tried to close them, but they sprang open again.
She’d lost everything. Her children were probably dead. Saul was gone, by her… She struggled to push the memory away, but failed.
What was left?
The day was hot, and she wiped sweat from her upper lip, scanning the region. So this was Rimia, the place her father had spent years attempting to reach. This world had ruined her family. She inhaled the scent, finding it comforting. The crumbled city lay in the distance, just as Dirk had described it.
She set Rex’s head down and double-checked his status. His chest rose and fell in an even rhythm. What if this was it? She was stuck on Rimia, her brother comatose. Maybe this was her penance for letting one of the Believers into her life. For marrying the snake, Fred. But her children had been born from that union, and she couldn’t wish it away.
Bev walked on a worn path, wondering how many times her dad and Clayton had done the same.
“Beverly?” Rex’s
question made her jump, and she rotated to watch her brother sit up. He dusted his hands off, as if wiping clean some horrible experience. His expression was grim, but he smiled regardless. In a second, he was on his feet, running for her. He scooped her up, spinning around.
She shouted for him to stop but laughed at his joy. “Rex, where did you go?”
“First things first. Your kids…”
Rex set her to the ground and looked her in the eyes.
“Are they…” Bev’s voice cracked.
“They’re fine.”
“Tell me!” Bev was nearly frantic, her hands shaking.
“We found them… well, Marcus did… they had the Book.”
“The Book?”
“That’s right. Saul gave it to them, sent them from the house.”
“Saul…”
Rex stared at her, his happy expression fading. “I know. But it wasn’t your fault, Bev.”
“Edith and Carson?”
“They’re on a farm. Roger from the Freedom Earthers. He and his wife are taking care of them,” Rex said.
She melted into a hug with Rex, crying unabashedly.
Finally, after a few moments of silence, they sat, and he told her everything.
____________
Dirk slammed into his body and flung to the floor. The lights on the frame were still up, but they quieted, dimming until they were off. He nearly knocked Opor down, but she stepped aside at the last second, shouting in disbelief.
“You made it!” Opor ran to him, dropping to the ground. She shot into him, wrapping her arms around his neck. She kissed him repeatedly.
“Are you okay?” he asked, finally catching his breath.
“I’m fine. Is it finished?”
“I don’t know, but I suspect our involvement is completed.” Dirk stayed on the floor, lying with Opor next to him. His energy was sapped. Whatever he’d done to Mezpa had taken a toll. His head pounded, and every muscle in his body ached, but he was alive. And with Opor.
Lost Hope (The Bridge Sequence Book Three) Page 26
