Ascent of the Aliomenti (17 page)

Arthur would figure it out someday. Will would deal with it then.

Adam came up behind him, glancing around to be certain they were alone. “How are they?”

Will arched an eyebrow. “What makes you think I know?”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Will, the rest of them may not have the ability yet, but I can tell when an explosive amount of Energy gets used nearby. An Energy burst that would coincide with someone teleporting many miles away, or returning here in a similar manner. I can only imagine you have one purpose in mind when that happens. So tell me... how are they?”

Some of his trips involved just a brief visit with Hope. Others, in line with his story of being a traveling merchant, involved him traveling the long distance to Healf to make an appearance and remind the men there that Hope was neither single nor a widow. He typically flew most of the way, for he enjoyed the sensation it provided, and it gave him time to think.

“They’re fine. They’ll move again soon. They don’t like the idea of being too long in one place.”

“Why would they worry, Will? What would make them want to leave a place where they’re well-liked and respected?”

He’d not told Adam about the ambrosia. Like Arthur, Adam would still be alive when Will was born, over nine centuries from now. He’d learn the secrets. For now, though, Will felt it appropriate to withhold that information, and provide instead a partial truth. “They’re afraid of being too successful. They have far better success curing the sick than do other doctors there. People will wonder. They’ve heard a few mutterings of witchcraft. They need to be very careful, and unfortunately, they can’t be careful and still do what they’re trying to do there successfully.”

“Where is
there
,
Will? Why won’t you tell me?”

“Have you talked to Eva? You can, you know. Telepathically. You should be able to reach her. Have you tried? Perhaps you can ask her yourself, then, where she might be.”

Adam’s face spoke volumes, but he said nothing.

But Will knew what his silence meant. “You
have
talked to her, haven’t you? You’ve talked to Eva, and she hasn’t told you where they are.”

Adam turned away. “Why doesn’t she want to see me, Will?”

“I think you know exactly why, Adam.”

He shook his head. “No, Will, I don’t think I do. If you’re referring to my handing out of justice several years ago... understand that she knows why I did it, what the true reasons were, and she has no qualms about it. Uneasiness, perhaps, but it’s not something that would keep her from me. No, there’s something far deeper than that.”

“Perhaps you should try asking
her
, Adam. You know my reasons for not divulging their location. And now that I know Eva has chosen to keep her distance as well, I’m further resolved in not revealing where they are.”

Adam looked at the ground, his face registering confusion more than anger. Will watched his face, watched as he muttered the word “Why?” repeatedly, until at last, comprehension dawned on him. It was a truth that registered with him so briefly that his face was almost instantly back to one of confusion, as if he, too, had a secret he wanted to hide from Will.

Adam turned to Will. “I respect your decision, Will, and I suspect that there’s a greater reason behind it than even you know. Perhaps even more than Eva knows. I will respect her wishes and not try to find them until such time as they contact me.”

Will arched an eyebrow. “What is this, Adam? We’ve had this conversation many times before, many times reaching the same conclusion, and you’ve always continued to badger me about where they are. Yet suddenly you’ve realized something, something that makes you not only respect why Eva – not me,
Eva
– wants to keep you away, but agree with her decision. What could possibly make you change so suddenly?”

Adam looked at Will, seeming to be on the verge of explaining something so deep and profound that it would shake Will to his very core, and then he resumed a stoic look. “When it’s time, Will, you’ll know the answer. But not before. And I’m not sure I’m the right one to tell you.”

He turned and walked away, leaving Will baffled as to the meaning of the words.

Will returned to the bunker, where the team was laying the old concrete forms down atop the walls of the vast underground bunker. They’d left the space open, much as if it were a vast underground basement from Will’s era, leaving only support posts below. They’d not partitioned the space into rooms yet, preferring to wait until they had further insight into what they’d like to accomplish inside. They knew only that the space would accommodate 30-50 people easily.

The old wall forms would act to support the weight of the concrete being poured atop the walls and support joists, preventing them from having to pour molded concrete slabs that would be moved into place after they hardened. They had no cranes or other heavy equipment capable of hauling such an enormous weight, and this solution, while imperfect, was the best they could provide. The crews hadn’t thought to engage someone like Will to move those completed slabs into place with Energy, and had settled upon a working solution.

Will left, letting the construction process finish on its own. This was one endeavor he need not see through to the end.

Two weeks later, after vigorous rounds of stirring concrete, pouring, smoothing, and Energy-enhanced drying and hardening, the structure was complete. They used shovels to move dirt over the top of the concrete, trusting nature to spread good grass seed through the air and make the covering of the bunker look just like the spaces around it. Will, having designed the structure, was the first to enter. He closed his eyes, used his clairvoyance skills to find a spot inside, and teleported in.

It was completely dark and a bit unnerving. Each footstep echoed. He lit the space with Energy from his hands. His mind began to fill in the openings, picturing rooms for training, tables laden with research tomes, and rooms that could be used for private research. Research like that which he’d be performing.

Research that would enable him to save the lives of his children not yet born, and at the same time save the life of the man who would one day try to kill them.

XIII

Research

1029 A.D.

Three months later.

“Seriously, could you
please
try to keep it down out there?”

Will’s voice was nearly a shout, but it was unlikely that he could be heard above the melee. They’d developed a tournament of sorts, a series of obstacles and head-to-head competition in various Energy skills, as a way to encourage all of the Aliomenti. The bunker had had the intended effect; word that it was a secret club of sorts, with marvels none had ever seen before, had spread, and Will and the other leaders of the village had done nothing to quash the rumors. Those who developed the ability to teleport in on their own were sworn to never reveal the secrets of what went on inside, in part because there was no great secret. It was simply the joy of trying to compete and advance that made access to the bunker so desirable.

The tournaments Adam had developed were exceptionally competitive, and it was that spirit of competition, of defeating fellow Aliomenti in an Energy-based competition, that drove so many to greater heights. The obstacles included guessing a number in Adam’s head (which he would try to shield from them), levitating objects from one point to another, teleporting through a series of points, and then blasting a piece of pottery with Energy from a healthy distance. The first competitor to complete all of the tasks was ruled the winner. The exercise became competitive when the participants realized that playing defense was not only permitted, but encouraged. Competitors would try to blast each other off balance to disrupt timing, or impress thoughts into each other’s heads with incorrect numbers. The mere anticipation of being blasted led more than one participant to fail the telekinesis test, in which they were required to move a full pitcher of water from one table to another without spilling a drop.

The loser had to mop up the spills.

Will had partitioned off his own research room, a request granted given his seniority in the community and his efforts to bring the bunker into existence. He told them he was researching “nutrition,” explaining that he was trying to determine the best combination of foods to ensure continual Energy growth and general health. In reality, he was spending days trying to penetrate deep into the fruit, skin, and seed of the ambrosia plants he grew near his cave and as “decoration” in the gardens inside the walls. He would occasionally announce that he’d learned that increasing consumption of a certain vegetable had beneficial effects on health, and his recommendations were acted upon as soon as the farmers could adjust their crop schedules.

Yet the fruit proved difficult to crack. What he needed was a twenty-first century laboratory with electron microscopes and other advanced equipment, where he could watch the ambrosia fruit work its way through the human body, watching the impact it had at a cellular level. It must alter the cells of the human body at the most basic level, for the impacts were eternal. He knew he was not aging, and both Hope and Eva had confirmed the same was true for them. Though they weren’t likely to show many signs of aging only seven years after eating the fruit, each of them was convinced it was working. Will was forty-five years old, but looked and felt twenty years younger.

Arthur, on the other hand, looked much older than his fifty-five years. His blond hair had become streaked with gray, and his skin had wrinkled. He’d stopped many of the health rituals he and the original band of slaves had discovered and mastered nearly three decades earlier. Will suspected that much of the health damage was self-inflicted. Arthur was a man who expected to die of old age soon, regardless of his general level of health, and his exterior appearance and health reflected his viewpoint of himself as an old man. His tremendous desire for control, combined with his assumed loss of the battle for his very life, made him an extremely angry, bitter man. He snapped at the villagers for no reason, deriving from their brief looks of terror a sense of the power he’d once enjoyed over the first generation of Aliomenti, the generation that never reached the Promised Land.

Will, thinking of Arthur’s bullying, sighed. He’d have to give Arthur the greatest gift the man could possibly imagine, a gift he’d use to do more than bark at frightened youngsters. But he’d wait as long as he believed possible. He was in no rush to bring Arthur back from the brink of death.

Adam poked his head into the room, grinning. “Sorry, Will. John just pulled the water out of his pitcher and threw the
water
at Arielle. Not the pottery. The actual drops of water. It was crazy. She threw the whole pitcher at him. Hands behind their backs the whole time. It was...”

Adam broke off, realizing that Will wasn’t listening, and he moved into the small room. “What are you doing?”

Will glanced down at the ambrosia fruit. “Studying this. I think it might be poisonous, and I’m trying to be certain of that. We might need to pull it out of the interior gardens.”

Adam moved into the room, studying the fruit more closely. “I thought that looked familiar. That’s the fruit from the tree we mixed in with the morange and zirple plants?”

Will nodded. “It smells delicious, but I’ve never seen any wild creatures eat it. That usually means there’s something wrong with it. If I can figure out a way to test the effects of the plant, we can make sure. But...” He paused. “I’m just concerned that whoever eats the plant will get sick, or even die. I know I’m not the only one concerned that might be the case, either. Nobody will eat it.”

Adam smiled grimly. “It’d serve Arthur right to be the one to eat it first, after what he did to Elizabeth.”

Will couldn’t argue that point. “I’m trying to see if the juice will damage the wood right now. It’s not a great test for poison, but if it damages the wood it probably isn’t something we want inside our bodies.”

Adam laughed. “I seem to recall the morange berries aren’t exactly pleasant, and yet the impact is rather positive overall.”

Will inclined his head in acknowledgment.

Adam glanced at the ambrosia fruits, thoughtful. “I wonder... is it possible that the more unpleasant a food, the more likely it is to be beneficial to one’s health, and more importantly, to one’s Energy development?”

Will shook his head. “Morange isn’t terribly pleasant, of course. But there’s nothing exceptional about zirple. It’s a bland taste, not something you’d want to eat, but it’s not something that causes great pain.”

Adam nodded. “So something painful unleashes Energy, something bland helps to continually enhance what you’ve unleashed.” He inhaled deeply. “What might a fruit with such a powerful, pleasant aroma unleash?”

Will smiled. “Perhaps just a happy tongue and a full belly? Or perhaps death. Often in life, that which is most pleasing to the senses ends up as the most dangerous thing you can ever associate with.” He glanced down at the berry. “Perhaps this fruit provides a great gift, but at a terrible price.”

“By whose definition, though? Perhaps the gift is worth the price.”

Will sighed. “I suppose that it’s going to be the case that what one might consider a gift, another might consider a curse.”