Interphase (58 page)

Something lashed out from a side passage and knocked David to the ground. He stared up in horror as a ghostly feranal stalked out of the shadows, snarling loudly at him. He rolled to the side and tensed against the expected blow, but a lightning bolt leapt down the corridor and blasted the creature to pieces. David ducked down the now vacant passage and watched Analara take cover behind the turn at the far side of the hallway. Several more lightning bolts tore into the walls between them. =Get out of the castle,= David sent frantically to her. =I'll lead this thing away.=

=David, no!= she responded as David stepped out into the corridor and launched a lance of force at their attacker. He ducked back into the passage and ran deeper into the castle.

He ran into a side room and down a set of stairs, chased by more haunting images. Sprinting into the banquet hall, he skidded to a stop as a charged bolt blasted the ground directly in front of him. Part of the room twisted momentarily, and the apparition of his father stepped into the chamber, grinning wildly. "I've had twenty years to learn every trick of both worlds. You can't possibly escape from me here!"

"I've got plenty of my own tricks as well," David retorted. "You'll find that I'm no easy target." He shifted into the Wraith, ran at the wall, and leapt up and off the surface, catching the chandelier above and swinging up to the balcony. He released and landed just as a lightning bolt ripped into the crystal hanging. Shards like frozen tears rained down around the figure below, and David turned and ran.

The air seethed with energy. The floor exploded beneath David's feet, sending him careening into the wall. The bolt had torn clear through the ceiling.

David jumped upward as the ground beneath him gave way, and clutched at the jagged lip of the hole. Gritting his teeth, he pulled himself upward and rolled onto the roof.

David struggled to get his breath back, expecting to feel the scorching bite of a lightning strike any second. He got to his feet and ran toward the stairs down. A blinding flash cut across his path. The air in front of the stairway twisted, and the apparition stepped out onto the tiles.

"Why are you doing this?" David demanded. He looked around the battlements for any possible escape routes.

The figure began to tremble, and he clutched his head with both hands. "He… he found me. He found me and put it inside me." He whimpered. "Forgive me, David… forgive me, son. He put his anger in me…"

Can it really be him? Did my father survive inside the system?

"Dad? How are you still alive? I saw them put your body in the ground. I saw the records of your death!"

Slowly Jonathan lifted his head. The red glow had returned to his eyes. He chuckled softly. "There's still so much you don't understand, little boy. Life and death are nothing more than a smudged line when you stride along the veil between realities. You have no concept of what it is like to be a living bridge between two worlds."

David backed away, his mind reeling. What was his father talking about? Was he the connection between Phoenix and Analath?

Jonathan sneered and advanced toward David. "I've been watching you for twenty years now. Poor little David, trying desperately to follow in his father's footsteps. You've never displayed a tenth of the programming skill that I possessed. It was no accident that claimed my body. I found the border between the systems, and
I
was the one who bored the passage between them. You did nothing more than stumble onto the connection that
I
created!" He looked at David with contempt and scorn. "Without my protection, you would have died on your first crossing."

David gaped at him. Twenty years since his father entered his coma. Twenty years since the first Crash Storm had been sighted. Twenty years since the first breach into Analath. All because Jonathan Harris had hacked into an alien network with no clue about the consequences his actions would bring.

"Why are you here now, Dad?"

Something flickered in Jonathan's eyes, and a look of pain crossed his face. "His rage fills me. He commanded me to come." The red glow intensified, and Storm energy filled his hand. "I am here to kill you, son. By Shalaron's command."

There was no room to dodge, and David knew that a direct hit from the lightning would kill him. He didn't have a choice. Jonathan raised his hands, and David pointed the Wraithblade and fired.

The force lance tore through Jonathan's chest, hurling him back toward the stairs. The lightning fragmented and died in his hands, and he slumped to the floor. David dropped the Wraithblade and fell to his knees.

"Dad, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry."

Jonathan's eyes snapped open, and he floated into the air. The terrible gash in his chest sealed itself, and strands of lightning lashed out across the roof. "Remorse is your weakness, son. Now pay the price for your failure!" He pointed a finger. Dozens of bolts leapt from around him toward David.

As David watched death descend on him, he noticed two things. First, a golden flare surrounded him as Analara's shield bloomed into existence and deflected the bolts away. Second, a shining beam streaked toward his father. Before he could call out, the glowing projectile struck Jonathan in the head.

David heard a scream of pain and closed his eyes against the sudden burst of light. When he opened his eyes, his father was gone. In his place, he saw Analara, her hands lifted. A look of utter horror was on her face.

"You killed him?" he blurted without thinking.

"I didn't… mean…" she stuttered. The rest of her words were drowned out by a sobbing cry, and she disappeared from the module.

***

Analara retreated to the cottage and barred it from further entry. Her body shook with barely contained sobs. David tried to send her a tell, but she ignored it. She couldn't face him, not after what she'd just done.

Everything had unraveled so quickly. The only thought in her mind had been that David was in danger, and it had called forth the blaze of energy beneath her fingers. She had thrown her shield around him, and then—

Analara wrapped her arms around herself and wept. She remembered the look of agony on David's face, the sound of anguish in his voice.

The tells kept coming. Analara could imagine David's anger with her. She hugged her knees to her chest and let her world wash away in tears.

Why so sad?

Analara continued to cry as she relived the memory of what she had just done. "I killed him. I killed David's father."

Somehow admitting it out loud made the reality all the more horrible. The feeling of power still lingered inside, just beneath the surface of her skin. It had come without permission, bursting out of her when she had seen David in danger. She just wanted to protect him. What had she done instead?

"I killed him," she repeated through her sobs.

Please, don't do this. He would have hurt his son otherwise. What happened was not wrong.

Analara pressed her hands over her ears to try and block out the echo in her mind. "Leave me alone!"

She had no memory of her parents' faces, but Varlath had told her stories: she shared her height and the shape of her face with her father, while her eyes were her mother's. Over the years, her imagination had filled in the details until she could almost see their images when she closed her eyes.

In her mind's eye, Analara imagined her own father staring up at her in shock and pain as a blinding light tore him apart.

Please, listen. It wasn't like that. Running off has probably worried him sick.

The tell channel pressed against her awareness every few seconds, but Analara ignored it. She couldn't bring herself to face David. His words lingered in her memory, fueling her heartache. What would she have given for the chance to see her parents one more time? How could she have robbed David of that possibility?

What if this strange power burst out again? Would he be in its path next time?

All right, now you are just being silly. This power is a tool. It is a good thing.

"Just leave me alone," Analara shouted, looking around the cottage for an escape.

No. You need someone to help you. Haven't you realized that yet?

Analara desperately wanted to curl up in someone's arms and weep her pain away. But how could she show her face to anyone after what she had done? Not only was her own existence a mockery, but it had become lethal to those around her.

You're only making things worse. If you won't talk to anyone else then… then talk to me.

The echo made sense. Analara would just be talking to herself. She already knew what she had done, had seen the worst of herself. The flow of tears slowed, and she took a deep breath. "How?" she whimpered. "How did I turn into this?"

What do you mean?

"I kill people now." The words were a knife through her heart. She pressed her hands against her face, afraid to say any more but driven to release her thoughts. "My whole life, I've only wanted to help others. I trained for years to do just that. But ever since the priests brought this war upon us all, everything I do causes pain to those around me!"

Analara drew a ragged breath, and soon the words were coming out in a torrent. "How many of my own people did I kill when the Siathrak marched on this world? I hated it, but I didn't stop. I just kept killing. After so many battles, it didn't even seem hard anymore. I killed David's father without even
thinking
about it!"

Her words choked off under a wave of fresh sobs. Her self-loathing rose on the tide, cresting up from the well deep inside of herself, where she had buried it the day Jessica had died.

There it is. That's what started this. It's been building inside of you ever since.

"She died because of me. She didn't even know me, but she gave her life to try to protect me. What have I done with that? I'm not real, I wasn't worthy of life to begin with. All I've done since then is deliver even more death. Now someone else who was real has died because of what I am. I've turned into a monster."

Analara, listen to me. Would a monster feel so much guilt at taking a life? Would a monster feel anguish over whether they were worthy of someone else's sacrifice? Could someone who wasn't real feel anything at all? Your struggle right now confirms both your goodness and your own existence. You care for all life, even the lives of your foes… it amazes me.

Analara's sobs quieted. She lifted her tear-stained face and stared into the fireplace. "If I truly cared that much, I would never have done any of it."

Analara, dear, that's naive, and you know it. Not everyone shares your goodness, and despite how much you care about life, others have chosen to despise it. It is not a failing of yours, it is simply their choice.

Nodding, Analara listened as the echo continued.

Sometimes, in order to protect the good, you have to destroy the bad. If no one is there to stop the bad people from hurting others, then they win, don't they?

Analara didn't want to answer that. Doing so would mean admitting that there were some people who were beyond hope, who would slay and destroy everything if they were allowed to. It would mean there would never be an end to the fighting. No hope for true, lasting peace.

You have wonderful dreams, Analara, but they must be tempered by reality. Life has always contained struggle. You can't change the nature of others. All you can do is to guard what you believe to be right and protect those that you love.

"I don't know if I can do that."

I have faith in you.

"How do you even know me?" Analara asked.

The voice gave a clear, musical laugh. It was no longer an echo in her mind, and with a shock Analara realized it was coming from behind her.

"Because I've seen your true self."

***

The men were in good spirits; they laughed and made jokes as they clustered around the evening campfire. Shalaron watched them examine their new appearances and prepared for the beginning of the Awakening. All of his planning would be put to the test tonight.

=My lord Sage!=

The voice interrupted Shalaron's thoughts. After studying the human methods of communication, he had learned how to use them, and had taught his men. It had taken some time to alter the Analath system to accept such transmissions, but the utility provided was worth the effort.

=Thal?= he replied. =What is amiss?=

=I can not pass through the gate, my lord. There is a force barring my way.=

=Wait there, I will come to you,= he told Thal, and closed the connection. Shalaron stood, and his men fell silent. "Our enemies are aware of some of our plans," he warned gravely. "They seek to halt our entry and prevent us from reclaiming the land of our ancestors. Those of you who have gained your new forms, come with me."

The campsite became a flurry of activity. Shalaron's chosen troops formed ranks at the edge of the camp. The rest prepared their weapons and set a watch. Shalaron nodded his approval, then led the way into the wilderness, heading for the gateway.

He opened his thoughts to Thal. =What is the status of your mission?=

=Highly productive, my Sage. I encountered a band of the invaders and subdued them. I now have four strong hosts,= Thal responded.

Shalaron detected a note of satisfaction in Thal's reply. =Excellent,= he sent, and quickened his pace, spurring his men onward. =We are nearly there.=

They entered the grove where the shimmering tear in reality awaited them. Shalaron advanced and pressed his hand into the gateway. Something pushed back against him, an invisible resistance. This had the mark of his enemies upon it; only David and his cohorts would have thought to bar his passage.

Shalaron closed his eyes and channeled his senses through the Core. He could feel the tools of the Anrathian network unfolding at his touch, probing the hidden shield. Though he did not fully understand the coding of the barrier, he sensed that it was not as impenetrable as it first appeared. He released himself from the system and studied the glowing doorway.