Aliomenti Saga 6: Stark Cataclysm (40 page)

That wasn’t enough, though. He had no interest in watching the man slaughter innocents. And that was the challenge. He needed something to modify the man’s mind to prevent the murder of humans and members of the Alliance. Energy-based memory blocks would leave markers too easy to spot by the Aliomenti. They’d know the Assassin had been tampered with. And they’d imprison him or execute him before he could provide useful information. He needed a technology solution.

It was time to test the solution. He released the man from the cocoon. The Assassin patted his arms and legs, testing to ensure he had control of his own limbs.

He walked over and, as the Mechanic looked at him, punched the man in the face.

It hurt. He’d not thrown punches often in his life, and it had been years since the last. His hand throbbed. But the satisfaction derived from the damage to the killer made it worth the pain.

He watched. The Assassin’s rage mounted, the desire to kill rose to a fever pitch, and he did… nothing.

Success.

He explained to the Assassin his new role in life. He’d be incapable of killing a human or a member of the Alliance. At the Mechanic’s direction, he might directly act against the orders of the Leader, though he must do so in a manner suggestive of a failed effort than outright disobedience. He would be expected at times to meet with the Mechanic and reveal information he’d seen or heard.

They discussed how the Assassin would integrate himself back into Aliomenti society after his absence. He would announce that he’d indeed been captured by the Alliance and placed in forced captivity. He’d escaped, killing several members of the Alliance in the process, and had made his way to the closest city with an Aliomenti branch. He could also report that Will Stark was in the place he’d just escaped, and his power was greatly diminished. A well-timed strike at the camp could net them Stark and the few remaining members of the Alliance in the world.

“Anything else? Master?” The Assassin sneered the last word. The Mechanic didn’t care. He couldn’t make the man polite to members of the Alliance and not raise the suspicions of those targeted for spying.

“Ah, there’s one more thing.” The Mechanic smiled. “You’ve been asleep for almost two centuries.”

The Assassin stared at him, and then started laughing. “Now I
know
you’re joking.”

“Suit yourself. In the past 200 years, a huge cataclysmic event has thinned the number of humans in the world by billions. Quite a few Aliomenti perished. The Alliance? Well, the Alliance isn’t what it once was.”

“That’s crazy talk,” the Assassin said. But his scarred face clouded. It was clear he doubted his own words.

“There’s a new Assassin now. They thought you were dead. A man named Abaddon. He—”

“No. No, not him.” The Assassin shook his head. “That man is insane. He’ll do something stupid, something foolish, and—”

“He
did
do something stupid and foolish. That precipitated the Cataclysm I mentioned.” He shrugged. “Believe me or don’t believe me. I don’t care. But when you realize I’m correct, you’ll understand that when I tell you that Will Stark was also kept asleep since your encounter, I’m definitely not lying.”

The Assassin stared at him.

The Mechanic reformed the cocoon around the Assassin and hauled him out of the room and into the bright sunlight before entering the meeting room with the time machine. He kicked open the trunk.

“Don’t put me in there again!” the Assassin screamed.

“Smokey will be sitting up front with me.”

“I’ll take the trunk,” he muttered.

“Good man,” the Mechanic said. “By the way, you’ll forget this room and anything you might have seen in it.”

He hurled the Assassin into the trunk and slammed the lid closed. He hopped into the craft and whistled to Smokey. The dog hopped in, he closed the lid, and took off.

He turned the craft invisible just outside the camp and flew until he was about a mile outside the city. “Stay, girl,” he told Smokey, patting her on the head. He hopped out of the craft and pulled the Assassin out of the trunk.

“Good news: that’s the last time you’ll travel that way. Better news: you’ll find the nearest city with an Aliomenti branch about an hour’s walk down the road. Your scummy little friends should be able to get you back to your island.” He smirked. “Make sure you check the date when you get into the bank.”

“But—”

“Goodbye,” the Mechanic said. He hopped back into the craft, closed the top, and took off, heading in a different direction than the one he’d taken on the inbound trip. He kept the craft visible until he was certain the Assassin couldn’t see him. With the craft invisible, he made a direct line back to the camp and settled into his lab.

He hopped out with Smokey and found that he wasn’t alone.

“Good to see you back,” Adam told him. His eyes flicked toward the craft. “Your project is out in the world again, I take it?”

He nodded. “Everything is tested. He couldn’t even react when I punched him.”

Fil looked impressed. “You
punched
him? I’m jealous.”

The Mechanic flexed his hand. “It’s not quite as enjoyable as it sounds.”

Adam cleared his throat. “We need to get Will set up with communication nanos. He’s due to… depart soon, and we need to get him some initial training before his visit to Aliomenti Headquarters.”

He nodded and walked over to the nano-producing kegs, where he found the vial with the communication nanos. “Here’s the allocation. He just needs to swallow these. They’ll get implanted within a few minutes.”

“What about a small batch of the general nanos?”

The Mechanic snapped his fingers. He’d forgotten that. He flipped the switch on the second keg. “They’ll be done in about four hours.”

Adam shook his head. “He’s likely to run off very soon. I’ll take whatever quantity is done in fifteen minutes. It will be enough.”

The Mechanic slumped into his chair. How had he forgotten to activate the device earlier? He’d been distracted by the prospect of releasing the Assassin, even under the circumstances. Had that been enough? He remembered the circumstances now. Will would need enough nanos to deflect a sword thrust at him by the Assassin, the man he’d just released. Would fifteen minutes create enough nanos to meet Will’s needs?

Perhaps he could find a way to increase the quantity produced. He walked to the keg and tapped on the controls. “I’m going to make a quick change that should give Will about thirty percent more nanos than I could normally get in this time frame. It’s not really safe, especially for longer production runs, but I think the risk is worth it in this case.”

He handed them the vial when the timer sounded fifteen minutes later, and the three headed out to locate Will Stark and teach him how to work with his new nanos.

The Mechanic sat in a chair and exhaled deeply. He still had a great deal to do, and time was running short. He glanced at the original time machine. He’d fitted it out with the necessary nanos to give it lift and act as a flying craft for transport. It lacked the airspeed velocity of the pure nano-based craft. He smiled. That machine could travel to its target destination in an instant, but they didn’t want that to become common knowledge. The Phoenix Technologies transporters had been popular for a while, but consistent successful efforts at sabotage had forced them to close the business after ten years. It worked out well. The Aliomenti would likely step up discovery efforts in the next few weeks. A large, successful company with machines able to teleport materials over long distances would garner their attention. It would certainly make them suspicious about claims by the Assassin that the Alliance were down to at most twenty members worldwide.

He looked at the time machine again. The effort required to create the original had been immense, and they’d taken advantage of breakthrough ideas wherever they might arise. He’d had no such luck with the question regarding the thickness of the exterior body, however.

He closed his eyes. Adam, Fil, and Angel climbed aboard the machine. They’d checked all the readings and sensors to make certain everything was in proper order. He’d stepped back as Adam pressed the start button. The system recognized the special ink in the tattoo on Adam’s palm and activated the startup sequence. The top formed above them, completing and sealing the cabin. The computer calculated the power required for the jump and provided that information to the time circuits. The time circuits pulled the necessary power from the batteries. When the circuits reached the necessary levels of power, the computer flipped the top opaque to block out all harmful exterior radiation, and then “folded” the target time to the current time.

Something nagged at him. He knew it was something so simple, something he ought not overlook. Something about the sequence he’d just remembered contained the answer. He was certain.

He opened his eyes and looked at the machine again. What was he missing?

He jumped to his feet as the answer struck him.

They’d constructed the top with nanos.

The top was, by definition, thick enough to withstand all pressure and radiation associated with time travel. If the body and exterior were the same thickness, they would withstand the same pressures.

He glanced at the calendar. The timeline said that Will Stark would head to Aliomenti Headquarters two days from now and return on the third. They’d discuss time travel with him on the fourth. In five days’ time, Will Stark would travel back in time in a machine not yet built.

He pushed the table and other furniture aside and set the keg to producing nanos full time. He’d need every single one he could get.

“Sleep, I’ll see you on the other side of this,” he said. “I have a time machine to build.”

XXIII

Fil

2219 A.D.

Fil glanced at Adam. “It’s probably best if you raise the topic.”

Adam nodded his consent. “You’re right. He might run and hide right now if you show up first.” Adam’s face was sympathetic, and the words were meant to be a compliment. He’d played his role well, too well perhaps. He was meant to drive his father away, to eliminate any thought the man might possess about remaining behind when offered the chance to go back in time to save the lives of his wife and son.

Success meant achieving the one thing in the world he wanted least of all.

Some life.

Adam left, and Angel looked at him, her large violet eyes filled with concern. “The man who matters is the one who’ll remain behind, Fil. That man will be impressed with your strength and maturity. Don’t throw it all away chasing a perfection that cannot exist.”

She knew. Of course she knew. After all of the cheering sessions, she’d be well aware that he’d never forgiven himself for what happened fifteen decades earlier. He’d judged himself. He’d make amends to the world he’d destroyed as best he could. He’d fulfill his role, not for himself, but for those who deserved better. People like his parents, like Angel, like Adam and Gena and Charlie.

His father’s goal was to ensure he received the gift of life. His goal was to give his father a chance to fulfill that goal. Once he’d succeeded, he’d say his goodbyes. Permanent goodbyes.

The talk of war with the Aliomenti concerned him. Would he abandon those who needed him too soon? In condemning himself to death, was he condemning them as well? Would he be the difference in Angel surviving?

Only one decision carried a permanence that couldn’t be undone.

Adam returned moments later with Will. Will smiled at Angel, and then saw Fil. His eyes fell. Fil knew the look was one of discomfort associating with the role he played. He knew it had nothing to do with his father’s thoughts of his son. It was difficult not to treat the look that way, though.

“We need to get you set up with nanos,” Adam told Will. “For them to work, you need to have what are called communication nanos inserted.”

“More nanos inside me?” Will arched an eyebrow. “Will the healing nanos attack these communication nanos?”

Impressive. Will Stark didn’t miss much. “No,” he said. “We’ve updated the code inside the healing nanos to recognize the communication nanos and leave them be.”

Will gave him an appraising look. “Will it hurt? The last time I ingested something with those little machines, I lost half my body weight.”

Stay in character
, he reminded himself. “You were warned of the potential side effects.”

Will opened his mouth to argue, and then shook his head. “You’re right. I was. But my question remains: will it hurt?”

“No,” Angel said. “It won’t hurt. But it will be a disorienting experience.”

“Disorienting?”

“You’re adding another set of eyes you can access when you close your physical eyes,” Adam explained. “It takes some getting used to and practice to control. If overused, the information overload can be quite overwhelming.”

“And these overwhelming extra eyes are the price I must pay to have this army of tiny robots at my disposal? Robots that can form into houses and furniture and flying bobsleds?”