Heart of Annihilation (10 page)

Caz
9 months pre-RAGE

It was one of those rare, early evenings home. Caz’s work on the Heart of Annihilation had come to a standstill thanks to some red tape from the finance council, and Caz couldn’t find anything else in the lab to justify her time.

The seat in Vin’s personal vehicle was stiff, the interior dark and cool. Caz brushed her hands across her lap in an attempt to remove a few stray flecks of ash, then gazed out the tinted window. Attikin dome towered above the city on her left, visible even through the cold smog covering the city grid. She flicked a stubborn spot on her knee and then removed a cloth from her pocket. She touched the cloth to her tongue and scrubbed at the spot with sudden fury.

Vin had been gone for three months now, exactly eleven days late. That in and of itself didn’t bother Caz. He’d been gone for lengthy periods before and she’d always used that time to torment, torture, and basically destroy whatever newest girl-toy Vin had fallen for.

What did bother her was how Zell was doubled-dipping in the family pool. She’d become engaged to Xander within the last few days, which was bad enough, but the real trouble was Caz’s own son. Caz twisted the cloth around and around her finger while staring unseeing out the window.

Manny had developed quite the affection for her. Almost like hero worship. She was pretty and sweet, kind and soft spoken. Everything Caz wasn’t. Manny still found it in himself to greet her when she approached, but with much less passion than he used to show.

A delicate touch was needed to pry his affection away from Zell before Caz destroyed her. Caz hadn’t had the time nor energy to give to such an endeavor. Until today.

The vehicle hummed to a stop, and Caz shoved the door open. She stepped out, waving off the driver before he could attempt to help her with her bag. He looked relieved, and pulled away as soon as she was out.

Caz stared after the vehicle, hefting the bag in her hand. It was light, only containing some INFODs she’d lifted from her parent’s impossibility file. She was sure with a few tweaks she’d be able to find a solution to each concept and create a usable weapon. A little something to occupy her hands while letting her mind work out the Zell problem.

Caz’s shoes zapped against the coppered road, drawing in the energy from the grid to fill her body. She was used to the electrical deficiency in the lab, but not so much that she didn’t enjoy filling her bodily reservoir upon reentry into the real world. She applied a charge to the high gate surrounding the mansion Vin had built for them before Manny was born. Government officials weren’t held to the same economic standard as the rest of Retha, although with the amount of time Caz and Vin spent there, she wondered if Vin hadn’t gone too far.

The gate swung open, revealing the long curving walk up to the steely structure. A rare ray of sunlight filtered through the sullen clouds, illuminating a spark of light and movement.

Caz slowed. Xander bent over the walk below, examining a smattering of silver beads covering the ground. Manny stood to beside him, a black Pyk Styk in his hand, a smirk lifting the corners of his mouth. Xander knelt on the ground, looking closer at the beads, and then stood. A bright grin stretched across his face. He picked up his own Pyk Styk, positioned it next to a bead, and applied a charge into the handle of the Styk. A pink jolt of electricity powered into the bead, popping it to the left. It rattled and then magnetized to the ground several inches from the intended target, a silver circle.

Xander dropped his chin to his chest and groaned. Manny chortled, thumping the Pyk Styk against his shoe. Another giggle sounded from the portico, followed by brief applause.

Caz’s eyes zeroed in on the sound. She didn’t even realize she’d been smiling until her grin vanished, making her face feel oddly flat.

Zell lounged on the bench under the window, the collar of her blue marshal uniform pulled loose at the neck, a command screen forgotten on her lap as she applauded Manny’s victory over his uncle.

Manny applied two charges to his Pyk Styk, sending first one then other bead into the circle. Zell cheered each new point. When he finally missed, giving the turn back to Xander, Manny mounted the steps and collapsed next to Zell. She brushed her fingers through his hair, and they laughed as Xander tried and failed again.

Caz took a moment to imagine the players changed in this little scenario. She saw herself on the bench, Vin holding the childish Pyk Styk. Manny was the only character who remained the same, turning his delighted, silvery eyes on her for approval, cuddling close and interlacing his small, cool fingers with hers.

Caz shivered away the image and clenched the handle of her bag. She looked away from the happy group and inhaled to govern her emotions.

“Manny!” she called, letting her voice lilt in false pleasure.

“Mother?” Manny sat up straight, his eyebrows disappearing into the shaggy, silver hair covering his forehead. He was off the bench in an instant. He leapt across the beads and brushed by Xander, covering the distance in the rapid, yet clumsy strides of a young, growing Rethan.

“Mother! Is Father coming home today? We heard he was coming so we came here to wait.”

Manny grabbed her hand and led her toward the house, chattering all the while. Caz let him drag her along, only half comprehending his words. Had he always spoken so well?

“Did you hear the sirens earlier? They didn’t last long so Uncle Xan says it couldn’t be an entire dimension, just a storm or something. The sky’s been crazy though, and I absorbed enough energy to defeat Uncle Xan five times at Pyk Styk. Will you play? Can we play with Father when—”

Caz shook his hand free of hers. “There were sirens?”

Manny suddenly looked unsure. He turned to his uncle.

Sirens. The early warning systems set in place decades ago to warn Rethans of voltage fluctuations that might interfere with their lives. Usually they sounded when a particularly bad electrical storm loomed, but it didn’t negate the real reason they existed. The last time the Thirteenth Dimension destroyed a lower dimension almost a century ago, the voltage fluctuations had created massive damage to the power grid and infrastructure and caused an untold number of deaths. She’d heard first-hand accounts of when Thera, the Fourth Dimension, had been annihilated, and the panic the voltage fluctuations had caused. The sirens nowadays simply warned the public to shut down any device using over ten thousand amps and pay attention to the voltage in their bodies.

Of course, most Rethans didn’t have a loved one on an unstable dimension already under level thirteen surveillance and experiencing dimensional tears.

Caz’s hands tingled.

“Xander!” She left Manny behind and strode as quickly as she could to where Xander was collecting the beads into a small bag. Her voice was angry and hoarse. “What sirens?”

Clouds closed over the sun, leaving them in standard Rethan half-light. The amiable atmosphere that had permeated the space was gone, blown away by a frigid breeze. Zell was on her feet, her expression confused. Xander stood, rattling the beads in the bags.

“Yeah, Caz, there were sirens. Don’t worry, they only lasted a few minutes.” Xander frowned, retrieved the Pyk Styks and set them on the steps. “What are you doing here?”

Caz shrugged, “What are
you
doing here?”

“Like Manny said, we heard Vin was coming home today. We’re waiting for him.”

Caz nodded slowly. She glanced at Zell, who had gone completely still, her expression cold. Caz narrowed her eyes. A sound behind drew her attention. She turned, finding that she’d forgotten to close the gate. A blue marshal vehicle slunk into the yard. Electricity sparked against the bottom of the vehicle in a sharp blue light. It didn’t shut down. A half a dozen uniformed Rethans made their way out of the vehicle and up the walk.

Caz didn’t like being caught off guard, but she liked the particular marshal leading the group even less. Marshal Lafe’s white boots and light blue uniform with triple silver stripes of lightning across her left shoulder specified her rank. Rumor had it she would be the next high officiate, but Caz only knew her as the one who pried her and Vin apart when they were at each other’s throats. She was their unofficial Silentiary, hired by the commandant himself to preserve Vin’s reputation.

Her soft features effectively hid her darker, more serious nature. Quite an anomaly by Rethan standards. Caz had made the mistake of underestimating her only once. Her eye twitched at the memory.

In the past Marshal Lafe had always come alone. So why now was she accompanied by so many deputies?

The deputies, wearing low-ranking white uniforms, trailed shreds of electricity from the still running vehicle as they fell into formation. Marshal Lafe made her way to the front of the group. Caz gave Manny a gentle shove toward Xander. She held up a hand to stop the marshals.

“Gauss’s law, Lafe,” Caz kept her voice low. She didn’t need any skeletons expelled from her closet in front of her son. “What are you doing here?”

“Cazandra Fisk.” Marshal Lafe let her voice carry. She wasn’t looking at Caz, rather at the group near the steps. “There has been an incident on one of the lower dimensions that warrants your immediate—”

“Don’t talk down to me.”

“Keep your voice down, Cazandra,” Marshal Lafe stated, this time more confidentially, and locked eyes with hers. “I’d hate to have to charge you with a breach of the Two Laws, today of all days.”

“Then screw the fanfare and tell me why you’re here, you simpering—”

“It’s Ather.” She didn’t soften her delivery of the information. “All intelligence states that within the next few minutes they will—”

A siren wailed in the distance, instantly sparking echoing wails from closer warning stations. Surges of light pulsed in the sky, altering the flow of the current within Caz’s body. Her legs and torso were suddenly absent. A Rethan would say it was a result of the voltage fluctuations, but Caz sensed the significant absence of something else.

“I tried to tell you, Cazandra.” Marshal Lafe remained expressionless. “We lost contact with Councilor Paliyo, and now that Ather’s gone,” she gestured at the sky with a nod, “we have no way of knowing if he made it out in time.”

With her other hand Marshal Lafe removed an INFOD from a pocket and held it out to Caz.

Caz couldn’t move. Her hands were now missing along with the rest of her body. A thin arm reached from somewhere beside her. Zell retrieved the drive. There was a brief lilt to her lips but the expression was gone a second later, replaced by dramatic sadness. Zell had done up her top button, making her look much more official.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Fisk.” Marshal Lafe’s voice was clinical and detached. “Councilor Vincent Paliyo was the most inspiring leader we’ve had in years. He lived the laws of etiquette and serenity as an example for all of us.”

“What does that mean, Mother?” Manny’s voice came as from a great distance. “What does she mean?”

“Retha will mourn him as they did your parents,” Marshal Lafe continued.

“Is she talking about Father?” Caz felt a tug on her arm. “Mother! The sirens! Father is on Ather! What does she mean? Mother!”

The distress in Manny’s voice, the insistent tugging on her arm, the wild fluctuations of the new voltage within her body slammed into her, a million amps shocking her into motion.

Caz shook free the hand tearing at her sleeve. A scream threatened to escape her throat. Certainly the marshals were here at the request of the commandant to smooth over any rumors that might have surfaced about Vin and his unstable wife. Save his son’s image, where he couldn’t save his life.

“Mother!”

“Xander, take him!” Caz snarled. Manny sobbed, reaching for her as Xander carried him to the house.

Caz snaked out a hand and grabbed the front of the marshal’s uniform. She dragged her close until she smelled the sour ozone of her breath.

“Marshal Lafe,” she whispered so no one else could hear. “You can go back and tell the commandant that if he doesn’t free up my funding I’ll make damn sure he ends up on a cenotaph with his son. Now get the hell off my property.”

Marshal Lafe maintained her cool indifference. She pried Caz’s fingers from her uniform. “I’m not going to warn you again, Caz. Maintain propriety, or my deputies will need to apply a charge of serenity.”

“And I’m warning you, if I don’t have my funding cleared in the next hour
no one
will need a charge of serenity.”

“Deputies!” Marshal Lafe barked the command. “Marshal Veella!”

Zell jerked to attention. Rage scorched through Caz’s veins. She plunged her fist into the side of Marshal Lafe’s face and felt something break under her knuckles. Her other hand gripped the thin throat, holding the soon-to-be high officiate on her feet. Her fingers clawed into the cool flesh. Bright blood dripped from her fingers.

Demands and cries reached her ears. Hands crawled across her body. Her fingers raked across Marshal Lafe’s flesh. Caz was forced to the ground, face down. Her own screams filled her ears, an animalistic sound full of pain and fury. A palm and fingers crowned her head. A charge plunged through her scalp.

Unnatural calm attempted to brick the rage into a contained space in her head. She screamed again, fighting for control of her mind, wrestling against the hands that held her. Another charge, more intense this time. Her limbs stiffened in a spasm. Her eyelids fluttered. Tranquility flooded through her, drowning the screams, eliminating the fight in her body, obliterating who she was.

She retreated from the pain and unnatural confliction devouring her mind. As she was drawn into unconsciousness, Caz’s last thought was to wonder how she was going to get to the lab when she couldn’t seem to stay awake.

Vin told her to finish the weapon. His last words to her were to finish the weapon no matter what. She had to finish the weapon. No matter what.

“Rose.” Thurmond’s voice cut through the haze of unconsciousness. “Rose! Come on, wake up.”

I forced my eyes open, blinking heavily. I panicked for a moment, not knowing where I was.

Thurmond held me tight to his chest, one arm under my knees, the other putting pressure on my back. He tromped up the hill toward the electrical tower, his breath heavy under my weight. He glanced at me, saw my eyes open, and grunted, his mouth pressed in a hard line.

“Wha-appened?” I asked, my mouth dry, my foggy mind refusing to fill in the blanks.

“Well,” he said. “We are officially being abducted by your aliens.”

The one who’d called herself the officiate led the way, the shadow of the electrical tower cutting large stripes across her body. Her pace was slow, and she didn’t look behind her to see if we were behaving. The ratty Rethan stumbled along just behind her. He walked in a weird, crabbing, sideways manner, refusing to remove his eyes from us for even a second. I looked over Thurmond’s shoulder to see Andre the Giant trailing along behind us. He held my rifle slung across his shoulder and when he saw me looking, I caught the briefest lifting of his lips that could have been a smile.

“They’re Justet’s,” I said, looking away.

“What?”

“They’re Justet’s aliens,” I repeated, the words coming a bit easier now. “Not mine.”

Thurmond grunted again.

“What’d I miss?”

“Well, these Rethans are taking us up to their creepy camp so they can fill out paperwork or some crap.”

“’Kay.” That didn’t sound too bad.

“Also, thanks to my mad negotiation skills, they know about the commander and Justet coming to do them in.”

“Oh—”

“And now they think the commander is responsible for their portal being down and they want you to charge it.”

“With what?”

Thurmond paused, huffing, and fixed me with a cool look. I bunched the shoulder of his uniform in a tight grip and he started walking again.

“Like, with . . . electricity?” I asked, hesitant to say the word. “What do I look like, a giant, friggin’ car battery?”

“What the hell’s going on here?” Thurmond said softly, questioning rather than angry.

“How should I know?” Distance yawned between us even though we couldn’t physically be any closer. My limbs trembled. I thought I might be sick.

“I saw you zap them with your fingers. That’s not exactly normal, you know.” The accusation was direct, the suspicion biting. “If your hair were a different color I’d assume you were one of them.”

“That’s completely unfair! I’m on your side, okay? I-I never did anything like that before yesterday, I swear. But then when Justet . . .” I couldn’t finish. I didn’t have a good explanation anyway. “I’m not an alien—or a Rethan—or whatever. I’ve lived on Earth my whole life. You can ask my dad.” Realizing I’d made a mistake, I closed my mouth.

“Yeah . . . about your dad—”

“Forget it, T,” I said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

He didn’t say anything, making me feel worse. If I weren’t so certain I’d do a face plant, I would have jumped out of his arms and made my own way up the doggone hill.

“You know,” I said. Why couldn’t I just be quiet? “I could understand it when you got mad at me on the plane for coming after you. I even got your anger when you were bandaging me up, even if it was just the panic talking.” I was rewarded with a quiet grunt. “But I thought volting those guys back there was helping. I kinda hoped you wouldn’t hold it against me.”

Thurmond maintained a blasé silence, not even providing another grunt of acknowledgement. His step remained steady. I rubbed at the pendant underneath my shirt and closed my eyes. Anger and tension churned the silence and suddenly it burst from my lips.

“Dammit, Thurmond, say something!”

Thurmond was so surprised he swung my feet to the ground. I wobbled there for a moment, but he held me steady. I looked up to see a perplexed, half smirk on his face.

“Did you just . . . ? You never swear.”

I ground my teeth, regretting my outburst. “My dad always said swearing was the effort of a feeble mind trying to express itself.”

“Yeah?” Thurmond returned a deadpan stare. “Well, my dad always said if he didn’t know any cuss words he’d never have anything to say to me.”

“Why are you doing this, Thurmond?” I asked, desperate to know where we stood.

“Doing what?”

“Helping me. Being my friend. You’ve as much as said you don’t trust me.”

Thurmond was silent. His mouth pulled into a hard line.

“T?”

His lips parted for an instant before he pressed them together again. Ponytail Guy shouted for us to keep moving. Thurmond glanced back and pulled me into motion. My legs responded unwillingly, but after a moment I found I could walk, sort of. When Thurmond spoke, his words were almost lost in the scuffling of our boots.

“When I was nine my mom decided she wanted to leave my dad. She said things had been rocky for years, and she couldn’t take it anymore. The thought terrified me more than I could stand, and I begged her to try to work it out. I even talked to our pastor and had him call her in to meet with him. Well, guess what? She stayed. She listened to the pleading of a small boy desperate to keep his family together—even though that little boy didn’t have all the information.”

I opened my mouth to ask him a question when my arm jerked in a sudden spasm. I squeezed my eyes shut until the pain passed, and when I opened them I couldn’t remember what I’d been about to say. Thurmond looked at me in concern, then turned away, his face tight. He continued.

“It wasn’t long after that my dad widened his circle of abuse to us children as well.”

“Thurmond—”

“After a few more years, my mom lost her willpower to leave. I swore after that I’d never overstep my bounds again unless I had all the information.”

“You—you don’t have to—”

Thurmond pulled me to a stop, and we locked eyes. His expression was reserved but thoughtful. “Whatever the hell is happening here, you’re still Rose. I know that much at least. I have your back until I have a damn good reason not to.” He shrugged and turned away. “Maybe when I get all the information I’ll need to reevaluate my opinion, but I doubt it.”

A crackling voice from behind reminded us to keep walking.

We fell into a more companionable silence this time, puffing up the last few feet to the top of the hill. Something about the exchange made me feel he had forgiven me for doing something as weird as volting.

“How come I’m getting the impression you had a conversation in your head as to whether you’re going to trust me?” I asked.

“Probably ’cause I did.”

“So despite thinking, ‘this chick is responsible for me being kidnapped, making us fall nearly to our deaths, provoking the aliens, and then volting the daylights out of them,’ you’re totally cool with that.”

“Yep.” Thurmond grinned.

“Outstanding.”

We passed between two buildings and into the circle of thirteen small stone structures. Each was about the size of your average tent trailer, and they made a perfect circle around the electrical transmission tower. Sand sloped up next to buildings that were either painted the same color as the desert or had blended through time and exposure. Sand also shimmered over the slanted rooftops, their empty, cave-like doorways facing inward.

The tower itself rose a good couple hundred feet above us. Four heavy-duty legs supported the sturdy mesh of metal, the steel beams widening into a latticed mess as they rose to meet in an upside down V at the top of the neighboring legs. The very top of the tower resembled a giant, geometrical cat head, with thick black cables strung from the tip of the ears and several other protrusions of metal, slinging toward the next tower. It was one of hundreds standing sentinel over a rural road leading to a substation somewhere. The difference with the tower at the Rethan’s base camp was that cables also cascaded down to the rooftops of the buildings.

Saturated storm clouds rolled overhead. Lighting pulsed within the blackness. The mountains were obscured behind the angry depths. Thunder rumbled, and the insistent wind plucked at my uniform.

Aside from our four-Rethan welcoming party, there seemed to be no more than twenty others. Those twenty bustled around, not in a state of urgency but with heightened efficiency. Silver hair glinted dully in the deepening light. All wore the same uniform: subdued blue with the silver lightning across the shoulders, pants tucked in white boots military-style. One team carried large metal crates about the size of your average coffee table, while others carried two or three smaller crates ranging down to the size of a lunch box. The crates were scattered at the base of one side of the tower, giving the entire camp an unbalanced look.

Upon closer examination, I realized it was more than their baggage that made things seem lopsided. One of the upside-down V-like openings of the tower appeared to be covered in enormous silver scales. The platter-sized plates overlapped each other, rising up to the highest point and descending down the other. They also lay across the ground below creating an unbroken circle, like a doorway—or a portal.

“Marshal Rannen,” the officiate called to Andre the Giant. “You can hold the prisoners by building twelve until we’re ready.”

The officiate pointed to the nearest crate and snapped her fingers impatiently for the two closest Rethans to bring it to her. I suspected she’d already forgotten all about us. Fine by me. She wasn’t the one I wanted to interrogate anyway.

Marshal Rannen gave a beckoning toss of his head and led us around to the far side of the camp. Thurmond kept me on my feet until we finally stopped near one of the structures, indistinguishable from the others.

Thurmond expelled a tired huff. I looked back to find that Ponytail Guy had followed us. He leaned against a building, arms folded but with his weapon still trained on us. He looked as though his eyes were attempting to bore holes into my soul. He only managed to come off as grouchy and irrelevant. With a stupid ponytail to boot.

When he saw me looking he gave the weapon a little wave.

“Deputy Hoth!” the officiate yelled. Ponytail jumped and ran to join her.

I tracked him with my eyes before examining the terrain for a possible avenue of escape. That the tower was sitting on a hill put us at a disadvantage. The far side of the portal had a gentler slope and was littered with large boulders. They could provide just enough cover to get us pretty far. Except that I didn’t know the range of their weapons. And I didn’t know which way led us back to civilization.

Deciding the direction with the boulders would be our best bet, I eased myself to the ground on the eastern side of the building and leaned my head against the hot wall. I pulled my knees closer to my chest, exhausted beyond measure. I could barely think any more. I just needed a moment. Just a small moment to gather my thoughts. My eyes closed and my mouth opened to expedite the flow of oxygen to my lungs.

“That’s their portal?”

I slit my eyelids open to see Thurmond staring straight up at the complicated mesh of metal towering above the camp. He glanced around, looking for something perhaps a bit more Star Gate-ish.

“Dunno,” I replied.

“So they want you to use some kind of special skill they know about, because of those weird symbols on your hand, to fix it?”

“Dunno.” I closed my eyes. “I suppose.”

“And I suppose this all needs to get done before the commander, Lieutenant Justet, and the rest of the crew arrive to take these guys out?”

“Sure.”

“Well then, let’s get this thing fired up so we can get the hell out of here and find you some medical attention.”

I peered between half closed lids to find Thurmond glaring at Marshal Rannen. The enormous Rethan leaned against the corner of building twelve. His silver eyes were alert, and focused with alarming captivation on my face.

“Yeaaah,” I said. Sort of. Marshal Rannen’s face blurred. “An-drugs. I cad-use morphine-er-even assspirn.”

That morphine word was a bear. In fact, enunciation in general seemed outrageously overrated. My eyes drooped, shutting out the intense gaze of the marshal.

“Rose? Dammit, you’re white as a sheet.” Thurmond patted my cheek, then shook my chin. I blinked my eyes, trying valiantly to keep them open. “Stay awake.”

“Her lips are turning blue! Rose, you’re . . . Take some deep breaths. In and out. Come on!”

I attempted to comply, but everything seemed disconnected. I couldn’t pin down what was important and what wasn’t. Thurmond pulled the collar of my shirt away from my neck and tugged at the laces of my boots. I hadn’t realized my feet were numb until my toes tingled. Blood flushed through my legs.

“Don’t you have meds you could give her?” Thurmond’s eyes were trained on me, his head turned a little to the side, directing the question at Marshal Rannen.

Rannen’s eyebrows lifted. He shrugged and looked away. I let my eyes drift shut but forced them open again. Rifle drills with my eyelids. This sucked.

“No. Well, yes. Deputy Boderick is bringing over a little something.”

“Tell me it’s a pain killer of some kind.”

“That’s not the kind of medication we generally have on hand. And the officiate needs Specialist Rose awake.”

Voltage
. . . The word hissed through my mind.

“So?”

“So, pain medication of the necessary strength would most likely put her to sleep, and we’re going to need her before long.”

“Oh right. To power your
portal.
”

Volted
. . .

“That’s correct.”

“Bullshit!” Thurmond rose to his feet and faced the marshal.

Volting
. . .

Marshal Rannen pushed away from the building, his expression going from casual observation to something more wary.

Voltage, volted, volting.

“I’m not the one in charge.”

“And if you were, would it make a difference?”

Voltage, volted, volting. Voltage, volted, volting.
The mantra quivered through my nerves in an eerie intensity. It erased the argument and obliterated any thought trying to surface. The storm didn’t help matters. The ions in the air exacerbated the tingling, heated feeling, biting through the pain and bringing out a magnified alertness that my consciousness was trying to hide from. The voice peaked, putting pressure on my hollow-sounding left ear and pounding head.