The Yanti (28 page)

Hector took her father’s arm. “Let your daughter be. She may be wiser than we know. Lucy, at least, needs her help.”

Her father kept shaking his head. “Did you see your mother?”

Ali hesitated. “No.”

“I thought that’s why you were going there.”

“Dad. Mom is fine. Better than fine. I’ll see her on my next visit.”

He struggled. “What if she came to the door, and I hiked up . . .”

“Stop!” she pleaded. “I warned you, you mustn’t think that way.”

His eyes were hot. “How can I not? You say the world might end tomorrow, and here there’s a chance I can at least say goodbye to her.”

Ali spoke gently. “You said goodbye to her when you buried her. Now please, Dad, there’s still a lot I have to do before this day is finished.”

“What are we to do?” Hector asked. “We can’t just sit here all day and babysit Nira.”

Ali looked around, although she could hear the TV in the next room.

“Where is she?” she asked.

“Watching cartoons,” Cindy said. “Did you discover how to fix her?”

“Let me see her alone,” was all Ali would say.

In the bedroom, Ali found Nira sitting by the window, staring at the sky. For a moment that worried her. Was Nira acting as the Shaktra’s eyes? Ali had told them to seal the windows. Yet when Nira turned toward her, Ali sensed no danger. Flipping
off the TV, she sat on the bed beside the child. She took out the Yanti and draped it over Nira’s neck.

“How are you feeling, superstar?” Ali asked.

Nira did not respond, but looked down at the Yanti, and stroked it. Ali should not have been surprised—she had seen the phenomenon before in the presence of the child—but the Yanti began to warm. Indeed, it grew so hot Ali could feel it even as she sat back from the child. From a purely physical point of view, the talisman should have been blistering Nira’s skin, but the child appeared unaffected.

Ali saw no reason to wait. Placing her thumb on Nira’s forehead, where the child was already marked, she twisted her hand in the manner prescribed by Geea—reciting the numbers . . . “zero-six-four . . .”

Ali did not know it, but she had closed her eyes. A loud popping noise made them open. It scared her—it sounded as if Nira’s skull had cracked. Yet when she looked at the child, she was astonished.

Nira’s eyes glowed with a clear violet light!

The child was smiling at her. A quiet smile of hidden joy.

“Ali,” Nira whispered.

Ali felt a river of tears coming. “You know my name?”

“I have always known your name.”

Ali put her scarred hand on the child’s shoulder.

“You just couldn’t say it? You were locked up inside?”

“Inside I was always free.” Nira lowered her head and stroked the Yanti as it began to cool. “I always am,” she added.

Ali reached out and hugged her. “I love you so much! You’re the one . . . the one who’s really my big sister!”

Nira hugged her in return, and when they parted, she held the Yanti up for Ali to take. “It was yours to begin with,” she said.

But Ali shook her head. “Keep it. And the name I use to open it is—”

“Alosha . . . Alosha . . . Alosha.”

“You know?”

“Of course.” Nira cocked her head to the side, and, it was uncanny, but there was ancient wisdom in her expression. “You might need it. For protection.”

“When it’s with you, you’re with me. It belongs with you.” Ali gestured to her face. “See these scars? I got them because I misused the Yanti. I’m not worthy of it. Please keep it, Nira. Before this war’s over, I have faith you’ll know what to do with it.”

Ali then told her Geea was awake on the other side.

Nira nodded. She already seemed to know.

Ali tried to pump the child as to what she planned to do next. But Nira just smiled and shook her head. “You follow your own path,” she said, meaning, Ali assumed, “
I will take care of my own business.”

Although it hurt to do so, Ali had no choice but to let her go.

The others were ecstatic when Ali let Nira out of the room. Ali took the occasion to try to sneak off. But her father caught up with her in the parking lot. “Where are you going now?” he asked.

“Home.”

“Let me come with you.”

“Sorry, Dad. For now, you guys have to stay hidden. Tell Hector that.” Ali added, “Nira is now much more important than I am.”

Her father took her arm. “There’s no one more important than you, Ali. Take care of yourself, at least for my sake.” He reached up to touch her scars, then sighed as his hand fell back down. “You know, if anything else happens to you . . .”

Ali squeezed his arm. “I’ll be careful,” she promised.

Ali sat in her room in front of her computer and typed in Nemi.com.

Immediately the blue background of the webpage and the word NEMI—printed in large gold letters—glowed atop a picture of her Yanti. No, she had to remind herself, it was Nira’s now . . .

Ali went directly to the live chat room and was pleased to find a member online. He had changed his user name to Devil-in-the-Machine, but she knew he was just teasing her. She typed in
hi
. He responded in an instant.

“How do you know I’m not one of the bad guys?”

“Because you’re too cute. And you keep saving my butt.”

“Close call on the Isle of Greesh. Almost lost your butt.”

“They were blocking you from coming?”

“They never saw me coming until it was too late. But they will not make the same mistake again.”

“You said they are ancient but not very bright.”

“I was trying to be insulting. There are different types of intelligence. Ever meet someone who gets A’s on all his tests, has a fantastic memory, is nominated valedictorian of his school—yet he doesn’t have a single original idea in his head?”

“Sounds like me.”

“Not true. To accomplish as much as you have takes creativity. The Entity is
huge
. In a sense it has infinite intelligence. Yet it lacks fresh ideas. That is one of the reasons it needs to continually conquer new races.”

“Then we should be able to outwit it.”

“
We?
Didn’t Queen Geea tell you that saving one world was enough? You have to focus on Sheri Smith.”

Ali sulked. “Fighting the Entity seems so much more important than that witch.”

“That witch is your sister. Right now, she’s the Entity’s main agent on Earth.”

“Is she its only agent?”

“It would never put all its eggs in one basket. But for now focus on Sheri Smith. Or should I say Lucy Pillar?”

“May I ask a few questions about what the Entity said before we turn to her?”

“Sigh . . . Two.”

“The Entity makes a great case for why the Earth needs help. Except for it taking over and running everything, I have to admit I was convinced by its argument that human beings are destroying this planet. True?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it? All I get is a yes?”

“Yes. And that is the answer to your second question. Now back to Sheri Smith and Lucy Pillar.”

“Hold on. You tricked me into giving up my second question. I want it back.”

“All right, whiner.”

“Yeah, I’m a whiner. Half the skin on my body gets fried off and do you hear me complain?”

“Is that your second question?”

“No! I really need to know about the Earth. Are we doing the right thing by stopping the Entity? They’re cold, they’re cruel, but they probably do have the power to save the planet. Talk to me, Nemi, I’m torn on this issue.”

“As well you should be. Everyone should be concerned about the direction the planet is headed. Few are. The reason is as the Entity stated. Love is not the dominant trait of this world. Most people think of themselves first, their family second, and, if they are bighearted, their friends and neighbors next. Few consider the global situation. For that reason, the
Entity makes a persuasive argument. Perhaps we should sit back and let it take over.”

“Yet you fight the Entity?”

“You are now at question number three, I believe.”

“Shh, stop that, Nemi. Why do you fight the Entity if it’s probably our best chance at survival?”

“It all goes back to one question. Does the end justify the means? The Entity would answer yes. The need—to survive—is all that matters. But I know you feel as I do. No end justifies what the Entity is doing. It tortures people, it kills them, and it feels nothing. The odds of humanity surviving are not good, that is a fact, but I would rather take that slim chance, than buy into the future the Entity has planned for humanity. You understand, Ali, you always have. Love does not weigh odds. It only knows that it must keep loving.”

Ali was moved by his words. “We can talk about Sheri Smith and Lucy Pillar now,” she said.

“You talk to me about them.”

“The connection between the two is key. She was a good girl and then she became a monster.”

“Why?”

“She got burned and was in terrible pain. Someone must have approached her and offered her a deal. Beauty in exchange for . . . what? Her soul?”

“Close enough,” Nemi replied.

“Wait. She was given beauty. But was her pain taken away?”

“The Entity cannot heal.”

“How sad. Still, the deal parallels the deal Doren made with the Entity.”

“Yes. The same drama had to be reenacted on Earth. How does this help you?”

Ali sighed. “I haven’t a clue.”

“There are many clues here. Be creative. Use them.”

“But before I do, I need to ask a question. Do you talk to Sheri Smith online?”

“No.”

“Then Mike Havor was lying to me.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“I have to know. I have to know if everything he told me was just garbage.”

“Let’s discuss what he told you, then maybe we’ll be able to decide.”

“Well, he said Sheri regularly talks to a General Kabrosh—the man in charge of dismantling America’s nuclear arsenal. From researching online, I know he’s for real.”

“Good. He is a real person. Mike Havor was not lying about that.”

Ali nodded. “From the outside, it seems she feeds him tons of money. Which makes me wonder if she has purchased a bomb from him.”

“What would she do with a
single
bomb?”

“How do we know it’s one bomb? He might have sold her a dozen.”

“Think creatively, Ali, and practically.”

“One missing bomb might be possible to hide. A dozen would be hard?”

“Very good. I ask again, what would she do with a single bomb?”

Ali frowned. “It doesn’t seem it would alter the invasion much, unless the invasion were localized, to say, Breakwater. But that bothers me. I can’t see the elementals using a hick town like this as their base of operations, before taking over the whole world. I keep thinking of the six caves—like the one I took to Kilimanjaro, the one that led me to Ra. If I were Vak, I
would try to use them all, come at humanity from several directions at once.”

“Smart girl. I ask again, what would Sheri Smith do with a single bomb?”

“I don’t know, tell me.”

“That’s against the rules.”

“What rules? Do you know what kind of day I’ve had? Police trying to bust me. Dragons chasing and burning me. Entities scheming to possess my soul. Talking myself into leaving myself scarred and ugly.”

“Nice touch, Ali, that last point.”

“Thank you. But what I’m saying is, I deserve a break. Please, just answer the question. No more riddles.”

“I don’t know.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why do you keep posing the question?”

“Because it’s obviously important. Go find the answer to it. While you’re at it, since I’m super plugged into the Internet, I can tell you that Lucy Pillar’s mother lives at 1246 Fairview Avenue in Costa Mesa. That’s in Orange County, Southern California. Her name is Nancy Pillar. General Kabrosh is in his Washington, D.C. home at 1618 Florence Street, apartment number 902—on the south side of town not far from the Pentagon.” Nemi paused. “Will you remember all this?”

“Yes. Do I need to talk to these people?”

“You really need to talk to Lucy Pillar, and ask her to quit being a bad girl. But since that’s unlikely to happen, you might want to try these others.”

“At least tell me what I’m looking for.”

“Information. You never know what piece completes the puzzle until you hold it in your hand.”

Ali took one of the plugs she had swiped from the Entity’s chamber from her pocket, the ones with the crystals at the ends. “What are these for?”

“They plug into your cell phone.”

She took out Hector’s cell, tried it. “So?”

“They provide amazing reception.”

“In case I need to call you from a weird place?”

“Yes. You have been in some strange places already today.”

Ali heard a knock at her front door. She typed quickly.

“Who’s that?”

“Go see. But whoever it is, don’t kill him.”

The person knocked again. Hard. It was probably Garten.

“Gotta go. I love you, Nemi.”

“Nemi knows. Your love grows.”

Ali exited the Internet and turned off her computer. By that time the guy on the porch—and it was Officer Garten—was pounding the door and shouting her name. Ali threw open the door.