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Authors: Lorijo Metz

Wheels (22 page)

BOOK: Wheels
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One hundred and fifty?
He suddenly had her full attention. McKenzie looked. She really looked. But no matter how much she squinted or tried to imagine it, H.G. Wells still looked decades younger than her Grandma Mir.

“Over time, I would have improved upon the design myself,” he boasted. “On the other hand, time is precisely what I wouldn’t have had…had I remained on Earth. The point is, this is my planet. I was destined to rule here.” Wells leaned closer. “They think I am a god!” he whispered, his warm, sour breath flooding her senses. McKenzie tried to backup, but Soliis stopped her.

“I admit, at first all I wanted to do was go home. Circanthos is a primitive planet. Unfortunately, my Gate was damaged during the journey. So, I said to myself, ‘Look here, old man, these Tsendi believe you are their savior. You’ve been handed a gift, the opportunity to rule an entire planet. Create a civilized society from the ground up—the way it should be.’” He paused, his expression sincere, yet clearly patronizing. “And, all my subjects ask, is that I help them defeat their enemies.”

It was plain as day, as her grandmother would say, Wells wanted the planet all to himself.

“As it happens, I am a brilliant strategist, war games being a passion of mine.” His smile broadened, and his eyes narrowed. “I quickly discovered the Circanthian’s weakness.”

Weakness?
McKenzie leaned closer. Wells smiled knowingly and stood up. “Now, the only thing that can prevent me from helping these good Tsendi regain their rightful superiority over this planet,” His voice raised so that all the Tsendi could hear, “is you.”

Growls and hisses filled the air. Spears were hoisted and shaken in her direction. At the same time, McKenzie noticed several Tsendi taking advantage of the interruption to grab a quick bite of whatever it was that was in the sack tied about their waist. The froot, she recalled, of which Soliis was so overly fond.

“Why me?”

Wells laughed. “Why indeed you. That has crossed my mind, but I think I have an answer. Clearly, whoever built your gate chose to test it using children because, well, children are expendable. I did not return and therefore the functionality of my Gate was in question. Why you? Because you are merely a sacrifice, yet a success if you return home. A success and a guarantee that eventually more humans will find their way to Circanthos and claim it for their own.”

Power made people nuts, but H.G. Wells was really nuts—
sacrificing children?
It was time McKenzie set him straight. “The truth is no one knows we’re here, and if you let us go, no one will ever know. I promise. You can have this planet. All of it. This was a mistake. Hayes and I just want to go home.”

Wells turned and marched over to one of the soldiers. He tore the pouch from the soldier’s waist. A visible shudder rippled through the crowd. “What do you think, Soliis? Should I believe her?”

Soliis rolled out from behind McKenzie. His eyes shifted nervously, but always returned to the pouch in Wells’ hand.

“Oh, Great One, I don’t know,” he stammered.

Great One?Oh, Great One!
McKenzie wanted to puke.

“Of course, you don’t,” said Wells. “Circanthians are only good for magic tricks, isn’t that true, Abacis?” 

Abacis stood slightly behind Wells. McKenzie could see him, but Wells would have to turn or look over his shoulder. Abacis did not nod. He did not disagree, either. He simply stood there stone-faced and…by all appearances, respectful.

Wells tossed the pouch into Soliis’ eagerly outstretched hands. A few of the more daring Tsendi moaned.

McKenzie was more interested in Abacis. He’d been close enough to overhear everything Wells had whispered to her. Soliis didn’t seem to care. But was Abacis content to have someone like Wells order him around?

“You know, little girl, it doesn’t matter why you’re here. The fact that you’re here is what matters. Somehow you and your friend managed to stumble upon a Gate, and now you’re here and you say you want to go home.”

McKenzie nodded. Maybe he finally understood.

“See, I am correct.” This seemed to amuse Wells. He laughed and looked over his shoulder. “Everyone needs my help, eh, Abacis.”

His help?
Wells’ had admitted his machine was broken. If he still had help to offer, maybe he had a cortext. “That’s right. We do need your help. We’re looking for a cortext.”

“A what!” The speed with which Wells turned was telling enough. His eyes narrowed and McKenzie could see his body tense, anticipating her answer.

“Cortext,” she repeated, watching his face closely. “It looks like a triangle with a lot of lights. Well…not lights, exactly, but it shimmers. A cortext could take us home. You’d have the planet all to yourself.”

Though he tried to hide it, Wells’ face gave him away. With each word, it had grown redder and redder. As his face grew redder, McKenzie’s heart beat faster. Wells knew something about the cortext. Whatever it was, he wanted to keep it to himself.

“Why would you need this machine when you have a Gate? You’re trying to confuse me. Well, I won’t have it!” he said, jabbing a long bony finger in her direction. “What I will have is your Gate! This is my planet and I won’t have any more humans trying to lay claim to it!”

McKenzie tried to backup, but once again, Soliis stopped her.

“Look at him!” said Wells. “That BOY will die and so will you unless you remove yourself from my machine.”

And in that split second, McKenzie knew exactly what Wells had been talking about. She opened her armrest, grabbed her iPort and flipped it open. Holding it out in front of her, one finger poised as if to push a button, she prayed that Wells would believe the slightest touch would send her and her wheelchair—
her Gate
—spinning back to Earth. “Not until you let Hayes go!” she shouted.

For several seconds, Wells’ mouth hung open; then he doubled over and began to laugh. He laughed and laughed, and with each laugh, McKenzie knew her bargaining power was gone. She had never been good at chess—and she had just given up her queen. Wells had discovered
her
weakness: Of course, McKenzie would never leave without Hayes.

“If I allow you to return to Earth—even if, as you claim, your presence is a mistake—it is only a matter of time before more humans return. How many planets resemble Earth as nearly as this one? How many planets resemble Earth and are inhabited by primitive cultures that offer limited resistance, if any, to our advanced technology? More important, how many planets hold the promise of eternal youth?”

So, he was human. McKenzie’s heart sank. Of course, she’d known he was. She’d known all along. She just didn’t know how, nor did she want it to be true. “I won’t tell anyone,” she stammered.

“Ahhhh, but it would only take one slip and all the Queen’s horses would come galloping across the galaxy to claim my kingdom. The kingdom of a man long considered dead—and no one would be the wiser.”

McKenzie could have cried.
No one
would come galloping across the galaxy to her rescue. Or, to rescue Hayes. She sighed and sat up straighter. That was not acceptable. She might not deserve a savior—but Hayes did.
How could I have let this happen!
And that’s when the image began to form. An image built of hate and fear, and most of all, loathing.

“If you try to escape, I will not only kill the boy—I will make him suffer. Abacis,” Wells called, effectively dismissing McKenzie. “Remove the child from The Gate. Do what you like with the two humans, so long as you dispatch them quickly. After all, we must remain civilized.”

As Wells continued to spew forth words like “for the good of all” and “how really none of this was his fault” the large red rock behind him began to take on another shape. Within seconds, the rock had transformed into a hand the size of a six-story building. Soliis, Abacis and the rest of the Tsendi turned, too frightened to say anything. They stared, transfixed, as the hand grew into a fist. Wells, caught-up in the sound of his own voice, didn’t notice.

The fist began to ungulate and swerve, growing larger and larger and then finally angling back, positioning itself for the final blow, one that would crush everything in its path. The Tsendi guards dropped their spears and took off. By the time Wells noticed what was happening, only Abacis remained.

 “SOLIIS!”

“It’s not me,” Soliis cried. “I can’t do that anymore. It must be coming from-from—from HER!”

“Quick!” Wells pointed at Abacis. “Grab the boy and run.” He paused long enough to make certain Abacis carried out his orders, then turned to McKenzie. “Have it your way. Return to Earth and claim Circanthos as your own. Your friend will die! The boy will not see the light of Earth again unless—”

Wells’ threats splashed like a bucket of ice-cold water in her face. “What?” she mumbled, as the fist lost its shape, dissolving into particles, spinning and tumbling back into the form they knew so well.

“Unless…” Wells had gotten her attention; now he hesitated. He stared at McKenzie as if seeing her for the first time, not as Julianna, not as
just
another human, but from the look of puzzlement on his face, he was trying to figure out just exactly what she was—if indeed, she was even human. He glanced over his shoulder and saw what, by this time, was only a towering red rock. “Unless,” he said turning to face her again, triumph written all over his face, “you bring The Gate to my camp. Come alone. Hand it over to me by Mid-Cera san two cycles from now. Bring it,” he said, “or the boy will die.”

Then they were gone, all of them; Wells, the Tsendi—and Hayes.

 

 

 

Chapter 27

Excerpt from the personal log of Agent Wink Krumm

Monday, March 16th
Just outside Avondale
continued…

Monitored the odd trio for approximately one hour. As I had no choice but to remain in the van, I could not hear their conversation. The presence of the human frozen in the phenomenon did not seem to surprise them. Interesting…

Minutes before they disappeared, the elder alien pointed to the van, and it seemed to me, began speaking to the human as though there were something inside the van that should concern him.

Shortly after that, the aliens headed towards a pile of cement blocks located perhaps a hundred to a hundred and fifty feet from the road. At first, it appeared the human was going to remain behind. At the last moment, however, he raced over to the elder alien, grabbed on to his back, and—disappeared!

All three of them—vanished, as they say, into thin air!

***

TRUTH & CONSEQUENCES

Tuesday, March 17th
Circanthos - The Last Gathering


H
e’s dead!”

“He’s not dead, he passed out. Don’t listen to the girl, Pietas; she’s out of control. I’m dead. I’m the one that’s—”

“SHUT-UP!” McKenzie held her hand up as if to block Soliis’ words. “YOU KNEW,” she screamed, “YOU—”

“McKenzie!” Pietas looked away. “Please…calm down,” she whispered,
heart racing, breathing shallow…suffocating.
Sensations as foreign to Pietas as—McKenzie. She closed her eyes and began to imagine layers of cells providing a protective, dampening layer between her heart and the thin layer of wrinkled skin covering her chest. Calmer, she opened them and stared, amazed as droplets of water spilled from McKenzie’s eyes.
Her anger is overflowing!

Circanthians were not immune to emotions, but they were always aware that matters of the mind and heart were intricately connected to the physical world—rocks, trees, broshbonits, Circanthians—everything. In a society of individuals born with the ability to change their physical surroundings, no matter how impermanent, laws and unspoken rules of socially acceptable behavior had evolved to accompany every Circanthian from birth. Individuals did not explode with anger; neither did they burst with happiness. Emotions were experienced, but always with full awareness as to their consequences. Fortunately, while evolution gave Circanthians the ability to particle-weave; it also seemed to give them a heightened ability to control their emotions.

Either humans did not possess this ability, or they chose to ignore it.

“Soliis what’s wrong? What’s happened?” McKenzie and Soliis had arrived at the Gathering shortly after Cera san. Most Circanthians had already retired. Pietas had been wide-awake and waiting.

“I’ll tell you what’s happened—”

“GOOD IDEA!” snapped Soliis. “Tell us everything GIRL—don’t leave anything out!”

McKenzie glared at him. Her gaze was so intense Pietas feared fire would burst from her eyes. Finally, she took a couple of shaky breaths, wiped the moisture from her eyes and turned away.

“Soliis?” Pietas looked at her old friend, concerned and confused.

“She’s dangerous,” he said, and for the first time in many loonocks, looked Pietas straight in the eye.

“Dangerous?” she whispered, only to have Soliis look away. Pietas sighed, not knowing what to say and saddened by the realization that it had taken an enormous effort for Soliis to put aside his own needs, even for a moment, to warn her about the girl.
The Tsendi illness is strong in him.
She sensed he could no longer particle-weave. Soliis looked defeated, his sphere as dimpled and pockmarked as a
pongo coralios
.

Ashamed that she felt more disappointment than sympathy, Pietas watched her old friend retreat to a darkened corner of her home. Would she have ended up like Soliis had she remained here these past four loonocks? “Tell me what happened,” she said, gently touching McKenzie’s shoulder. “Where is Hayes?”

McKenzie flinched. “Your friend is a spy!”

********

Despite appearances, McKenzie was trying to calm down. The encounter with Wells, the giant fist—she didn’t know who to be more afraid of, the Tsendi or herself.

BOOK: Wheels
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