Aliomenti Saga 6: Stark Cataclysm (37 page)

Her second session with her father was better in many ways. He was healthy. He’d woken feeling better than he could remember feeling in his life. His curiosity about what had happened had deepened. Fil entered and made it clear that returning to human society was no longer an option; he’d be suspected of planning the events that had happened, regardless of his protestations of innocence. He accepted his fate and asked what he could do to help stop the men who’d taken away his family from hurting others.

Angel smiled. Always looking to help someone else.

She warned him about the Purge. It would be painful; they didn’t know how painful it would be. She told him they didn’t know because they didn’t have people undergo the Purge who’d had his years of exposure to all the contaminants now in his body. That wasn’t completely true. While most new recruits were younger than Will, none of them suffered as they worked up to taking a full dose of morange. When she left the room, he’d agreed to undergo the Purge, even though he understood it might kill him.

She hoped her warning was just a warning.

When she arrived back at the Mechanic’s quarters, he and Charlie were fussing over a mixture of fluids on a table. She recognized the coloring of the component fluids. “So you’re mixing the Purge then?”

Charlie nodded. “The problem is, the mixture isn’t the right color. Remember the memory? Will described the mix as looking like blood. He thought we were vampires.” Charlie shuddered.

“Your eyes
do
sparkle, you know.”

“Only when I look at you.”

“Let’s dispense with the gag-inducing one-liners for just a moment, shall we?” The Mechanic looked at her. “We’ve mixed together the morange, zirple, and ambrosia, but the coloring is wrong. We’re trying to determine if we’ve got the proportions right. We can add coloring but don’t think that’s likely.”

Something nagged at her. A memory. Something her mother had mentioned. She snapped her fingers. “It’s the ambrosia.”

“We need more?”

“You need to take it out of the mix. Mom said Dad realized when they found it originally that we’d not given him any. Said that if for some reason in any time loop they’d not found it, he’d have no reason to stick around for a thousand years because Mom would be dead before the end of the twelfth century.”

The Mechanic smacked his head. “Of course. How stupid of me.” He glanced at the mix. “I’m about due for a refresh on my essentials anyway, so that won’t go to waste.” He looked at Angel. “Is he ready?”

She nodded. “Mr. Stark is aware of the purpose of the Purge and the potential effects upon his person. He accepts the risks.” She looked around. “Speaking of administering the Purge… where’s Fil?”

“He’ll meet you on the way back to Will’s quarters,” Charlie replied. “Putting all of those memory blocks in place took a lot out of him.”

Angel cringed. “Yeah. I don’t envy him that. He’s drawn a lot of the more distasteful parts of this.”

The Mechanic looked thoughtful. “He has. But I suspect Fil wouldn’t have it any other way.”

They completed the mix. This time, it turned a deep blood red. The Mechanic added in extra healing nanos without her remembering to mention it. “It’s going to be pretty awful, if memory serves. The more inside him that helps, the better.”

Charlie mixed everything thoroughly and poured it into a clear vial with a stopper. “Blood for our newest vampire recruit.” He smirked.

She took the vial and left without comment.

The Purge formula was as it should be, lacking ambrosia. She laughed at herself. Given the importance of keeping Mr. Stark’s blood clear of ambrosia, the fact that both she and Charlie hadn’t thought to keep it out of the original mixture was astonishing. Thankfully, Charlie remembered the commentary about the blood-like appearance of the mixture, saving them from making an unalterable mistake.

Her father would be healthy and his blood would be pure. She felt it was wrong to just take blood from him, though. It would be simple enough. But she wanted him to give it freely. At the same time, she couldn’t explain the reasoning until it was too late. She couldn’t tell him the cure for ambrosia in this time; they were meant to struggle in finding the solution. Nor could she just ask for a sample as a matter of protocol. Will would question the need. How could she enable him to give her the blood of his own free will, then?

The crash. The crash into the trees when they’d evacuate this site. In her father’s memory, she and Fil had crashed their vehicle after being hit by a blast from one of the Aliomenti. It hadn’t made sense. She’d know they were coming before they could fire a shot, as would Fil. She could teleport and phase into immateriality immediately. It was implausible that she’d suffer internal bleeding and require a blood transfusion.

But
he
didn’t know that.

But was there truth enough in the statement? She did need his blood. She was confident that her father, in his current incarnation, would want to help. Her younger father would want to help as well; she couldn’t tell him the reasons without altering history. Was this subterfuge acceptable? A means to an end?

She’d talk to Fil and Adam and the Mechanic about it.

Fil was waiting for her outside. “You realize that if I’m in that room he’ll try to hurt me when this takes effect, right?”

She snapped her focus back to the moment. “That means you’ve done your job well.”

He curled his lip. “Thanks. I think. I’ll go in with you, and once he’s through the stage where he’s able to inflict violence, I’ll be back.” He sighed. “I feel like a coward leaving you in there.”

“I can take care of myself, Fil. And he’ll understand why you did it one day.”

“Yeah. One day.”

The Purge itself was horrific. She’d thought the sight of her father freshly removed from the Hunters’ clutch was awful, but it was nothing to the screams of pain he unleashed as the Purge took its toll. Fil was there in an instant, a steadying hand on her shoulder. She knew better; he was leaning on her as much as he was offering her support.

They carried him once more to the showers, both with tears streaming down their faces. He lost consciousness on the way, which emboldened the others in the camp to come to their aid. Charlie had gone pale. “You learn something about a man’s character when he allows something like this to happen, don’t you?” He shook his head. “I’ll never measure up to him.”

The Mechanic clapped him on the back. “Be yourself, Charlie. That’s all anyone can do.”

Angel smiled. “That’s all Mr. Stark has been doing, right? Suffering through burns, broken bones, and a Purge that nearly killed him. All because… because…”

She fell to the ground in tears.

XXI

Adam

2219 A.D.

Adam sat outside the dwelling. He’d built the room for Will, and was eager to turn ownership of the devices over to his new pupil. The mental burden was a challenge he’d not expected. He thought back, remembering when he’d gotten the first batch of communication nanos from the Mechanic. The enhanced sensory imagery the devices supplied overwhelmed him at first. In time, he’d gotten used to the new source of information, and was now quite comfortable with the technology. The doubling of nanos, though, was like starting all over again. He wondered if he’d feel somehow deprived when he handed them over to Will.

But that was the future. He had a new Energy student to train.

He’d done this before, and in part he’d done it before because he’d known he’d be handling this job now. He’d gotten more skilled at training pupils over time. He regretted not training Gena. Her inherent Energy ability would have been the best training possible for this situation, for Will Stark would grow his Energy skills at a rate they’d never before seen.

And that was
without
outside help. Without being told who he was or who he’d be. Or who he’d
been
.

He sensed that Will was awake and moved into the room, watching as his pupil felt his Energy without realizing what it was. He gathered his Energy into a ball and threw it at a nano-chair; the device shattered. Adam was impressed; nano chairs typically didn’t break like their wooden counterparts. The technology continued to impress.

He complimented Will and invited him to come outside.

Will was quite tentative. He’d known only the interior of the room to this point, and was skittish about what he’d find outside the walls. Will moved slowly through the walls, though, taking thirty seconds to move from inside to outside.

He spotted Adam looking his way and shrugged. “I’m still struggling with the idea of walking through a solid wall. That… pause in the middle there helped it become real for me.”

Adam nodded. “I understand. We’ve not always had buildings like this, and it took some time to get used to it. But you will reach a point where doors seem an oddity.”

They moved past the scutarium mist shield, which Will didn’t notice. He didn’t know to look for it, of course. Adam wouldn’t tell him about it until weeks later. They started walking through the trees. He did it in part to let Will get familiar with the surrounding terrain, but also to get them away from the others in camp who’d undoubtedly want to watch. “Angel’s given you a basic understanding of Energy. Why don’t you tell me what you’ve understood so far?”

Will frowned. “It’s a warmth, a sensation in your body not unlike electricity. You can control the movement of the Energy with your mind. As you develop the ability to create and store more, you develop new skills and become more proficient at performing the old.” He glanced at Adam. “How’d I do?”

“An excellent summary. Based upon your demonstration earlier, I’d say you’ve already progressed through the first stage of mastery. Most people take time—sometimes months, sometimes even years—before they trust that feeling of warmth. They think it’s their imagination, or some odd placebo effect, or even a post-Purge illness. You didn’t; you trusted that the warmth meant
something
and you experimented. That’s good. Experimentation is the key to development. The more you practice and try, the better you’ll become with your new skills.”

Will nodded. “Practice makes perfect. I will practice every day until I can’t stay awake.”

He nodded. “I have no doubt about that, Will. None at all.”

He spotted a stick about three inches long. “Let’s try something.” He put the stick on his open palm. “I want you to take the stick from me.”

Will took a step forward and reached out his hand. Adam closed his own hand around the stick. “Not that way. Use your Energy.”

Will frowned. “How do I do that?”

“Think about what you did when you threw the Energy into the chair and see what you come up with. I won’t always give you exact answers. The corollary to the experimentation credo is that you learn best what you learn for yourself. I’m telling you that you can, right this minute, take this stick from me with Energy. Now… do it.”

Will seemed ready to protest. That was normal. Most students expected him to walk them through each step of the process. He’d tried that and found out that the more he gave them, the less they truly learned; they’d only develop once he left them and they were forced to learn new skills on their own. Once he forced the thinking and learning back on the students, however, the acceleration in competency was staggering.

Will’s face relaxed. He held his hands out in front of him, and Adam sensed the growing orb of Energy building between them. When it reached the size of a baseball, Will pulled his hands back, a look of surprise on his face. Adam smiled. Will thought he’d need to maintain contact with his Energy to sense and control it, but that wasn’t the case. Will nodded and the orb of Energy began to move toward Adam, settled over the stick, and lifted back up.

The stick remained in Adam’s hand.

He wanted to provide guidance, but at this stage, silence was the best teacher.

“It’s not glue,” Will muttered. “It’s a
glove
.”

Adam wasn’t certain what that meant, but Will was thinking. That was a positive sign. The orb descended to his palm once more. This time, though, it wrapped around the stick in finger-like tendrils, replicating a human hand. When the stick lifted from Adam’s palm, Will cheered.

Adam reached out and took the stick back. “Good. Now… do it better and faster. Think of this stick as something held by one of the Hunters. What if it’s a weapon? Do you think they’ll stand still and hold out their open palm and let you take it?”

Will looked angry. “I just started this an hour ago, you know.”

Adam nodded. “You did. You’ve made excellent progress. Now… make
more
progress.”

They repeated the exercise. Each time, Adam increased the level of challenge. He tightened his grip. He moved his hand around. He ran away from Will. It took time, but with each exercise, Will thought through the best approach and tried it. Adam would offer only mild corrections. Four hours later, they stopped.

Will looked disappointed. “I can keep going.”

“I’ve no doubt of that, Will. Remember, the fact that I’m not around doesn’t prevent you from trying something. I do recommend getting your rest, though. I know I’ll need some.”