Convergence Page 20

  Angel closed her eyes, letting her mind assess the information floating in the air in the form of invisible Energy tendrils, reading those tiny wisps of thought and emotion and action. She shuddered and opened her eyes to find Charlie watching her, his face tight with concern. “There’s so much pain and…” She swallowed and looked at the ground. “There are a lot of people dying in there, Charlie.”

  His face twitched. “I feel it too. Your face told me all I needed to know.” He hesitated. “Look, we said we just needed to know. I can feel all of them, and—”

  “I’m still struggling to feel Mom, Charlie. Are you saying that you can sense her?”

  He looked like he’d considered lying to her, but instead said nothing.

  “Then let’s go.”

  Though both of them knew teleportation Energy would mean nothing in the current environment, they still jogged toward the entrance of the building. Angel still couldn’t sense Hope’s life signal, and thought she might get a better reading inside the building. With better information, she’d know teleporting to Arthur Lowell’s quarters on the top floor would benefit or harm her family.

  The mammoth openings marking the front of the building revealed the size of the doors that once guarded the building lobby. They trotted inside to find the lobby deserted, with papers floating around as if the building had stood abandoned for decades. They could feel the floor vibrating beneath their feet, and shared a look of concern. The fighting below must be truly horrific if they could feel the floor shaking.

  The doors of one of the faded brass elevator cars hung askew, and a muffled series of screams of pain echoed up the shaft. Angel shuddered. She wanted to help, but glanced up. Her parents, her brother, Sarah and Anna… they’d all be up on the top floor. That’s where she’d go. She needed to know that her mother survived, needed to see her rejuvenated face.

  She turned to look at Charlie, ready to tell him where she’d be, when the klaxon sounded, the piercing noise rattling her sensitive ears. She wrapped her arms around her ears to protect them from the decibel level, and held that pose when gravity reversed and she found herself falling at an accelerated pace toward the ceiling high above.

  XXXI

  WILL CURSED HIMSELF FOR REACTING too slowly once more.

  His mind scattered as the gravity reversed, trying to account for every variable and identify the optimal activity. He surrounded himself with Energy and slowed his fall as he tried to understand what had happened, tried to tune out several loud cracking sounds, and recognized the genius of the move by the Aliomenti. In the brief second of zero gravity, the nanos ceased working, which would free any entrapped Aliomenti. The nanos would fall to the ground, preventing them from re-establishing any trapping formations when gravity resumed. Such a massive countermeasure meant the Aliomenti—or Arthur, at least—had known of the nanos and the affiliated power source for quite some time. That meant Eva had volunteered the information—or had it forced from her.

  When they’d restored gravity, however, they’d flipped it, pulling from the ceilings rather than the floors at a greater-than-Earth level. That would send distracted Alliance members plummeting up toward the ceiling, likely injuring, maiming, or killing many in the process.

  His eyes flicked around, trying to understand why they’d do that. Wouldn’t it prove just as problematic for the Aliomenti as the Alliance? Wouldn’t a trapped Aliomenti be just as likely to suffer injury from such a “fall”?

  He spotted a pair of boots still anchored to the floor. All other loose items—along with all of the people—were rushing toward the ceiling.

  He realized the simplicity of it. They’d magnetized the flooring and the boots worn as standard issue by the Aliomenti. The magnets seemed based in the center of the sole, so any Aliomenti standing upright would remain. But none of them had been. The two Assassins were dead on the ground, boot soles away from the floor. Arthur’s body had rested atop Hope when gravity flipped. Porthos’ boots, discarded in his efforts to silence his escape attempt, were upright and on the ground.

  He scanned the ceiling to survey the damage.

  Hope’s eyes were still distant from whatever Arthur had told her in his final breath. His body had acted as a sort of shock absorber, and the angle at which they’d hit the ceiling had bent the sword sideways, preventing it from pushing through him and into her. The combined force of his body hitting the ceiling at high speed, followed by the impact of Hope smashing into him, seemed to crush the body even further. Hope’s eyes focused just slightly, dazed at the mysterious comment and the recent activity, but they conveyed a basic message. She wasn’t badly hurt.

  He hoped she’d forgive him for not reacting more quickly.

  Will turned his head and found that Fil hadn’t inherited the slow-reaction genes of his father. He’d realized in an instant that Sarah’s continued refusal of zirple and morange meant she’d have no Energy to use to halt her “fall,” though she’d not been trapped. Fil had teleported to his resurrected wife and halted her fall, and he continued to hold her even now. He couldn’t blame his son. Given the circumstances, it would be quite some time before he’d willingly move from her side again. Anna’s inherited Energy power from her father meant she’d had little difficulty halting her fall; like Will, she’d slowed her descent and was now prone against the ceiling, looking around to see how the others had fared. She smiled in relief as she spotted her parents looking none the worse for wear, and smiled as she made eye contact with her grandfather.

  His eyes moved to the remaining three people in the room and a lump caught in his throat.

  Eva had smothered Porthos with her body to prevent any further efforts at escape. But she remained trapped by her own netting, and likely had been for quite some time, leaving her Energy stores depleted. She’d also been lying face down. Adam had been working to free the tangled netting from her, though he’d made no effort to rush. Until the gravity reversed, there had been little indication that he’d need to hurry his efforts.

  When the gravity reversed, Adam, like Will, had been stunned and reacted slowly. In Adam’s case, the reversal had ripped the sword from his hand as he’d been hurled toward the ceiling, and he’d lost time looking for the weapon even as he realized instinctively he needed to protect himself from the fall.

  Adam had halted his ascent with Energy and was unharmed.

  Eva was not. Unable to move, unable to brace herself from the impact, unable to untangle herself from Porthos, Eva had hit the ceiling at full speed. Her skull cracked open and several vertebrae in her back snapped with the double impact. Porthos squirmed and tried to release himself from the entanglement, staring at the lifeless eyes gazing back at him.

  Will felt himself sag as the truth hit him hard.

  Eva had been the first person he’d trusted and confided in back in the distant past. Even without the intervening centuries of experience, she’d exuded an eternal nature and wisdom long before they’d happened upon Ambrose’s forest and consumed the sweet, succulent fruit with all the inherent gifts and challenges. Even then, she’d seemed larger than life, a woman leading women and men in a time and place that disregarded her intellect and downplayed her skill. She’d been the only threat to Arthur’s North Village dominance before Will’s arrival. She was someone strongly associated with life and vitality and even invincibility.

  Yet there was no denying she was gone.

  Adam had finally collected himself enough to begin checking on the others, and turned first to Eva. It took him mere seconds to equate the loud cracking sounds he’d heard and Eva’s glassy eyes with the horrific truth. “No,” he whispered. “No!”

  Will felt a surge of Energy, a signal he recognized as Adam’s, at an intensity level he’d never before sensed from the man. The sheer power emanating from the man was rivaled, in Will’s experience, only by Fil’s. Even in his shock and grief, Will marveled and wondered how it was Adam’s power had grown to such a degree, and even more so how he’d hidden it f
rom all of them.

  Adam’s Energy engulfed him, and the startled reactions from the others told Will they’d felt it as well. The gentle, buzzing Energy pulled them each back to the ground, setting them gently upon the original surface. Hope and Eva were extracted from their respective piles of bodies. Adam’s face clenched and Will felt another surge of raw power that astonished him, and he watched as the netting around Hope dissolved. She looked at Adam in shock, wondering how he’d managed to destroy the netting when the others hadn’t been able to cut through the tough, thick cords. Adam didn’t seem to notice her. He threw his hands at the netting around Eva, splitting it down the middle and moving it atop a protesting Porthos. He moved the Hunter back to the ceiling, taking little care to provide a gentle landing. Porthos collided with the ceiling, offering an audible grunt, and managed to flip himself onto his back to watch the proceedings below.

  He pulled Eva gently toward him through the air, eyes misting over as her head lolled about on muscles no longer able to support the weight. He took her into his arms as the tears flowed freely, and his sobs shattered the otherwise still silence of the room.

  “No,” Adam whispered. “Not you. It can’t be true. I won’t let it be true.” He inhaled a stilted breath. “I can’t lose you, Mom.”

  XXXII

  VICTOR, THE MAN PREVIOUSLY KNOWN as the Hunter Athos, felt the gravity in the lower level switch.

  The gravity first disappeared, and fighters in the midst of swinging swords as it happened found themselves propelled by the sword’s inertia in the direction of the swing. Victor noticed a fine dark cloud develop in the area, and many of the Aliomenti trapped suddenly sprang free, leaping into the air toward shocked Alliance targets.

  That chaos lasted a few seconds before a new form of chaos began.

  Victor felt a strong pull seizing hold of him, pulling him away from the ground. His boots, though, seemed sealed against the floor, and though he lifted from bottom of his boots, the tight laces kept him upright upon the ground. He found that puzzling, but the boots were a new issue and optional item for those in the submarine, mandatory for all others. Always the obedient soldier, Victor donned the boots though he’d not been required to do so.

  He looked around and saw that the “mandatory” order hadn’t been followed.

  Gravity had shifted from the earth to the sky inside the building and enhanced to stronger-than-Earth levels. Those floating in a gravity free environment suddenly veered straight up toward the ceiling if they weren’t wearing boots. He heard many thuds as bodies smashed against the remaining ceilings, and one member of the Aliomenti was speared as he hurtled upward and ran into shards of wood remaining behind from a floor destroyed by earlier Energy blasts. A few Aliomenti plummeted toward the floor—as a reasonable person might suspect—pulled downward by the attractive force between boots and flooring. He noted that the rate of descent varied based upon the angle of the boots in relation to the floor, suggesting the attractive force was based in the center of the sole of the boots. The boot-wearing few landed upon solid ground with far more grace than those who’d hit the ceilings.

  Victor watched, fascinated on some morbid level by the effects of the anti-gravity. The fighters who’d not been killed or injured by the changes in gravity realized that their positioning was no longer predictable. Short-range teleportation became a danger, because you might return from the void and collide with the swinging sword of a fighter suddenly rising toward the ceiling or plummeting toward the ground. Instead, fighters accepted stationary roles, surrounding themselves as best they could through their fatigue and injury with Energy to both hold their vertical position and defend themselves in a minimal fashion against sword thrusts. They couldn’t use too much Energy, lest friends contact the force field and suffer some grievous injury.

  The net effect of the gravity reversal, then, was to remove the slower pace of injury and death before, and replace it with savage sword fights between combatants who lacked physical armor or shields. He knew that if the little machines returned to their operational status the Alliance would resume their position of dominance through an ability to form invisible armor. But only if.

  He’d sped up the pace of death and injury and increased the likelihood that the Aliomenti would suffer the same outcome. Just with fewer survivors. He’d made the wrong battle decision.

  Again.

  He seized his phone once more, this time to end the gravity manipulations, but had to set it down as a member of the Alliance spotted him and charged. “I’m on your side!” Victor snapped, pushing the man away with a gentle burst of Energy. “I’m trying to fix this mess!”

  Additional attacks thwarted each attempt to dial the number that would end this insanity. Word spread through harried whispers over communicators among the Alliance, alerting all to the presence of one of the dreaded Hunters, and he began to understand the frustration his longtime foes felt in being limited in their own response—in both cases, to avoid killing their opponent—when those foes suffered no such limitations.

  After a few centuries of that, he figured he’d want to kill a few people as well.

  He finally generated a bubble of Energy around himself, taking no pains to make it invisible, and managed to complete the phone call. Much to his surprise, the operator answered. “Cancel Operation Newton’s Apple,” he said.

  “Of course, sir. I hope the test was successful.”

  Test? “It wasn’t a test. The Alliance have invaded Headquarters.”

  There was a pause. “Oh.” The man hesitated. “Sir, am I… can I…?”

  Prior to his conversion, Victor—as Athos—would have ignored the unspoken plea, likely not even comprehending what the man’s incomplete request might mean given the stammering. But not now. “You can leave. Find somewhere safe until the fighting ends.” No sense bringing yet another fighter into the mix.

  “Oh.” The man paused. “Thank you, Hunter.”

  “You’re welcome.” Victor disconnected the call as he experienced a strange emotion. It was the joy of helping someone, even in so simple an action as sending an at-risk worker home.

  It felt… good.

  He watched the effects as normal gravity—normal direction, normal intensity—returned. They were prepared for it this time, as most were already in Energy bubbles designed to counter the effects of gravity. The only noticeable impact? He didn’t feel the upward pull within his magnetic boots any longer.

  The fighters continued their sword-based death matches. Screams reverberated through the chamber as blades made contact, and the coppery, salty scent of blood began to overwhelm.

  In a fit of desperation, he decided for honesty.

  Victor used Energy to project his voice, adding a telepathic push as well, hoping the Leader and Porthos didn’t hear his words. “Everyone! Listen to me! We all need to lay down our swords and stop this fighting! How many more must die before we realize all of this is pointless?”

  Nobody stopped. A pair of swordfighters who’d allowed themselves to return to the ground moved past him as metal clanged. As they moved beyond him, he heard the Alliance fighter mutter, “Nice try, Hunter.”

  No fighter on either side believed him. Each believed it was a ruse, a trick to get the Alliance fighters to stop while the Aliomenti would sneak in injury-inducing sword strikes in the confusion. The Alliance here all knew about Arthur Lowell’s mind-alterations to their foes, but none believed the Hunter Athos was cured of that affliction.

  He’d need to show proof of his changed allegiances.

  Victor drew his sword and moved toward an ongoing battle.

  Now that he’d entered the fray, he could feel the subtle use of Energy. Each fighter sent blasts of Energy at the other, not for the purpose of maiming the opponent, but to disrupt the other’s balance. He wondered if the tiny machines, disabled as gravity vanished, had resumed working and if the Alliance members here knew for certain, one way or another. There was no way Victor would know for certain
unless he asked… and he knew he’d not get an answer.

  When their blades clashed again, he swung his own from above, pressing both combatants’ swords toward the ground. He sent puffs of Energy at both, staggering each man. “Stop the fighting! The battle is over. How can neither of you see the truth before you? You’re fighting now for no reason but the thrill of battle.”

  The Alliance member saw Victor engaging in the battle and assumed the Hunter had come to aid his fellow Aliomenti. The Alliance fighter took short swipes at both opponents. “You lie, Hunter! We’ll never give in to your lies and we’ll no longer live under your oppression.” The man took another swing at Victor, who parried the blow.

  He realized fighting wasn’t the answer; the Alliance fighters would assume anything he said or did was a ploy or a ruse. He’d done nothing, still, to prove himself trustworthy in their eyes.

  There was only one thing he could do.

  He took a step back, which surprised both fighters, set his sword upon the ground, put his boot atop the weapon, and slid it across the floor. “I won’t fight either of you. Join me. Put your weapons down and be the example the others need to do the same. Save lives!”

  His Aliomenti counterpart summoned Victor’s weapon back via teleportation and tossed it back to him. “You’re crazy, Hunter,” the man said. He took a swing at the Alliance fighter—and was shocked when the Hunter parried the blow.

  “I’m serious. Stop fighting!”

  The Aliomenti man pulled his sword back and stared at the Hunter. “What are you doing?”