Alien Invasion 04 Annihilation (38 page)

Now, watching the shape at the end of the tunnel, Piper understood.
 

Meyer had never returned. Something else had.

He’d never betrayed them. Without even meaning to, Meyer had always helped them.
 

“I want Cameron to go with us,” she told the shape.
 

“What?” Christopher said from behind.
 

But Piper’s eyes stayed on the shape in the gloom. Meyer but not Meyer. Him but not him.
 

The shape nodded.
 

It understood. Of course it did.
 

On the wind, Piper heard,
Wait
.

CHAPTER 74

Heather’s reaching hand struck something that felt like dirt or stone. She blinked. She was facing a wall dug out of something; that much was suddenly obvious.
 

She turned, still in the gloom and able to see almost nothing. But then she saw Meyer — not in front of her as she’d thought, but off to her right, in some sort of chamber. The tunnel through the black was wrong. Now her inability to see made sense. She wasn’t mystically blind, with a clear passage through the phenomenon’s center. Now she couldn’t see because she was in a dark place, like a tomb. Or a crypt.
 

Meyer flicked on a tiny light. It cut a beam through the darkness, and Heather found herself staring into a starburst that threatened to blind her again.
 

“Heather?” he said.
 

But his voice was wrong.
 

“Who the hell is that?” Heather demanded.
 

The light flicked toward the holder’s face. It was Cameron Bannister. He looked the same as he had two years ago: still just as young, just as untidy in clothing and hair. She had a strange urge to turn away, embarrassed. She’d been so sure he’d been Meyer. Heather felt like her punctured heart was bleeding all over her sleeve.
 

“How did
you
get here?”
 

“I could ask you the same question,” Cameron replied.
 

“Not fair that you had a light. I was walking blind.”
 

Cameron seemed as disoriented as she felt. “It didn’t work before.” He shook his head, shining the penlight through the room. The walls were rock and filth. The air was stale — something Heather now realized she’d been smelling and tasting on the back of her tongue for a while. She’d been walking down. Zigzagging. Where Meyer had led, she’d followed.
 

Cameron was searching corners. There was a passageway behind her and one behind him. He shone his light into both. There was also a plinth of some sort in the room’s center. It looked almost like a fountain, but there was no water. Just a perfectly round, shallow basin.
 

“What are you looking for?”
 

“Did anyone pass you just now?” Cameron asked. “Did you feel anyone run by, up that passage?”
 

“No.” In truth, Heather felt like she was shedding a dream and barely trusted her feet. “Why?”
 

“I … ” Cameron paused, probably unsure if he should continue. “I could have sworn there was someone ahead of me. I was following him.”
 

“Who?”
 

“It was hard to see, but … ” A shake of the head. “I thought it was Viceroy Dempsey.”
 

Heather looked up. “Where are we?”
 

Cameron ran a hand over the rock wall. “I think we’re under the Apex.” He shone the light around again then located a small stone stage against the far wall, covered in otherworldly glyphs. Cameron had seen it before in a photo with a tablet computer leaning against it, proclaiming
Device missing.

He moved closer.
 

“What?” Heather asked.
 

Cameron stooped. Ran his fingers across the stone. “I’ve seen this before.”

A pebble struck the floor to her left. Heather looked over then back to Cameron. Then there was another small plink, and she looked over again.
 

Cameron stood, and they approached the plinth. With the small depression in the center, like a fountain without water. A depression with a curious black shadow now sliding from it, its job of attracting their attention duly finished.
 

“What is it?” Heather asked.
 

Cameron reached into the satchel at his side.
 

“I have a guess,” he said.
 

CHAPTER 75

“You were wrong about us, Raj,” the viceroy said.
 

Raj hurried to catch up. Meyer had a sickening walking pace. Every time Raj tried to reach him, the viceroy walked farther. He did it without precisely moving his legs. He just sort of sped away. Raj was getting tired of not being able to see him in the shadows.
 

“Wrong how?”
 

“I accepted you. You didn’t realize I did, but I did.”
 

“I know that. I know it, sir.” Raj could hear the sycophant slobber in his voice but didn’t try to fight it. Something big was obviously happening in Heaven’s Veil. First, the network virus, then the Apex powering up, followed by the arrival of another three motherships. Shuttles had been swarming nonstop. The Titans had streamed to the Apex, abandoning all pretense. Only Raj had been smart and loyal enough to hold his post then head toward the action. Only
he
had proved himself.
 

It was okay to beg a little. Flattery greased the world’s wheels. Maybe the universe.
 

“You were always loyal.”
 

“Of course, sir. Thank you, sir. Can you wait up?” Raj scuffled faster. He could barely see. The tunnel through the ink seemed to be sloping down. Turning. Headed somewhere. Somewhere privileged, probably, for the ceremony of Raj’s promotion.
 

Get your head straight,
said an obnoxious, meddling voice inside his head. But Raj ignored it. Meyer had always talked to the Astrals with his mind. There was no question right now that Raj could hear them too. He could sense the alien mood. He could tell how single-minded they were. How agitated. Focused on an outcome that Raj couldn’t quite see. Yet. But there would be time for that.
 

You came here to turn them in,
said the voice.
But they’ve gotten away.
 

No, no they hadn’t. Raj was quite sure about what had happened. He’d come with his charges; the Astrals had seen it; the blackout had come and … and … well, Raj supposed the Astrals had taken them away. Just as Raj was being taken away under the cover of darkness. For his promotion to viceroy.
 

Snap out of it!
 

But Meyer’s voice, in Raj’s ears, was more compelling.
 

“You’re a good soldier, Raj,” Meyer said. “You did whatever you were asked to do.”
 

“Yes, sir.”
 

“And even when you weren’t asked, you did what was right. Because you have superb instincts.”
 

“Thank you, viceroy.”

“Shooting me, for instance.”

Raj waited for more, but the viceroy kept walking, his back turned. There was no irony. Raj believed his sincerity. Why wouldn’t he? His head was flying. Ever since the fog’s descent, Raj had felt so much better about everything. He’d heard others fighting, but Raj didn’t feel like fighting. He felt like making peace. He felt like he’d finally done right in the eyes of those that mattered.
 

“You sicced the Reptars on Piper. I didn’t like that. But it showed your mettle.”
 

“Sure.”
 

“You were always part of the machine, Raj. Always loyal, well past the point of logic.”
 

Raj squinted. That didn’t sound right. But then again, he still felt good. Ever since the fog had entered his lungs. “Thanks?” he said.
 

“Goddamn
right
, thanks,” Meyer replied.
 

Meyer stopped. Raj came closer. He still couldn’t see the viceroy’s features well enough to read them, but he closed half the distance. Felt Meyer’s approval radiating like a furnace.
 

“To start a fire, you need a spark. You know that, Raj.”
 

“Of course.”
 

“You can lay out all the kindling and dry leaves and grass in the world, but the fire won’t start until the right spark is applied. That was you. You were the spark.”
 

“I was?”
 

“I have to thank you.”
 

“Okay. You’re welcome.” But Raj didn’t understand.
Sparks? Fire?
He was here for a promotion. He was here to be lauded, praised, lifted up.
 

“If you hadn’t shot me, I might not have been forced to reconsider my priorities. If you hadn’t shot me, Raj, there might never even have been a Pall. It was your selfless intervention that forced me to reconsider. You were the spark. Reinvention is good for the soul, so to speak. And when I learned about Trevor? Well, I could accept it.”
 

“Trevor?”
 

Meyer nodded. Put his hand on Raj’s shoulder.
 

“I need you to do something for me, Raj. You’re the only one I trust. The only one loyal enough to do it.”
 

“What’s that?”

“Nothing much,” Meyer said. “Just watch a man turn a key.”

CHAPTER 76

At first, Christopher thought it was dusk. It was the middle of the day, but it had been dark for so long that he felt his equilibrium slip, the way waking to afternoon light upsets an early riser.

Piper was somewhere ahead, and for what felt like hours (but was probably on the order of minutes), she’d been leading them forward. As far as Christopher could tell, Lila was as blind as he was. But judging by Piper’s tone and the confidence of her touch, she could see. Maybe not well, but definitely better than him.

By the time Christopher saw the first light, it was like the closing of a day that had never arrived. There were a mile deep shadows. Black and white shapes that he couldn’t make out. There seemed to be an eye of light in the distance, dim and barely there. They walked toward it, and as they did Christopher could see Piper’s shape in the lead. Lila’s gait picked up; her frame rose from its beaten posture. It was as if they were emerging from an impossible midnight, and even Lila’s worry abated as it lifted.

After a while, there seemed to be something farther ahead, near the scant light. Another shape. Maybe
several
other shapes. It took forever to reach them, but they finally did.
 

The night fled. And fled. And fled. Slowly, Christopher found he could see daylight overhead. Could see the land around him in patches. And looking back, he could see the spherical shadows of four motherships above Heaven’s Veil, now hundreds of yards distant.
 

In the light, there was a long shape, like a building.
 

A small girl ran forward. Lila recognized her before Christopher did; the girl leaped into her arms. Lila purred and cooed, filling the air with embarrassing noises of comfort. Watching her, Christopher felt the last of the fog subside. In seconds, it was gone, and they were in the bright light of midday, the fog a memory Christopher wasn’t sure he’d had.
 

He looked up. A man with serious bug eyes was looking at him through glasses. Beside him was a teenage girl, her black hair in a ponytail.

“Who are you?” the man demanded.
 

Christopher, feeling asleep, shook his head and looked to Lila, who showed no signs of recognition. Her focus was on Clara, whom she still held like the little girl she was.
 

Piper hugged the bug-eyed man. He made no acknowledgement. They were all standing outside some sort of a bus-sized RV, and it looked like those who’d been here had been for a while. There were chairs along one side, and the awning was down for shade that Christopher, until just recently, couldn’t possibly imagine ever needing again.
 

Piper stepped back from the man, who looked at her as if she was crazy, but he was willing to oblige if he must.
 

Christopher looked at Piper for an introduction, but it was Clara, in Lila’s arms, who did the honors. “This is Uncle Charlie. He’s the one who told Uncle Cameron what to do with the key.”
 

Charlie looked at Clara then at Piper.
 

“I did what?” he said.

CHAPTER 77

Cameron’s hands froze. He held the circular stone — the starter for Thor’s Hammer, supposedly, but apparently one key fit many locks — perfectly still. He’d been about to lay it in the plinth’s matching depression now that the last of the blackness had fled, but something made him stop with a sense like danger.