Double Dose, page 30
“Sounds like a very risky opportunity. What if your trap fails?”
“Failure will prove risky for you, certainly, but not for us. Shortly after the passage is open, I’m going to send a power surge. You’ve seen our storage facility. We have tremendous capacity. I’ll send a surge strong enough to melt the cupola on that tower. The passage will collapse, the Rymwyr will be trapped, and their threat eliminated. Forever.”
I’m suspicious. Why should he want to do this for us when they so obviously hold us in contempt?
(“Oh, I’m pretty sure it’s not for us. It’s obvious he wants revenge.”)
Revenge…is that what this is all about? Should we trust him?
(“Revenge is very single-minded, and that’s a good thing—if it’s true.”)
What do you mean?
(“How do we know a single word he’s told us is true?”)
Well, he is an alien, right?
(“Absolutely.”)
Well, if that’s true then why can’t the Rymwyr be real?
(“I’m now pretty well convinced they are. But what is the Tadhak agenda? Do they have designs on us—’us’ being humans?”)
I’ll ask.
“Is that your true goal: destruction of the Rymwyr?”
Another disgusted look. “Why else would we put ourselves through the degradation of coexisting with you? We want them extinct. The Tadhak must be avenged.”
“That’s your only goal?”
A small, barely tolerant smile. “You shouldn’t project your species’ base inclinations on ours. We are not an acquisitive race.”
Daley couldn’t let it go at that. “You’ve hidden among us for who knows how long…are you going to go on hiding indefinitely?”
“Surely you are joking. Oh, no. Once we are sure the Rymwyr are destroyed, we’ll destroy ourselves.”
Okay, she hadn’t expected that.
“You’re kidding, right?”
He seemed surprised that she would question him. “Our planet is uninhabitable, our people are virtually extinct, our sole purpose has been the elimination of the Rymwyr. After we accomplish that, what else is left for us? What other course is there to take? Stay here? Among you savages?”
(“Well, if you put it that way…”)
“Seems awfully extreme. If you hate this place so much, there must be another—”
His expression turned vicious. “There is no other world like ours. There will never be another civilization as magnificent as ours. We cannot accept second best.” His expression softened—just slightly. “We’re all tired of this pretense and don’t want to keep it up any longer than we have to.” He limped past her toward the center of the room. “And now that we’ve had our talk, I’ll send you back to town.”
That’s it?
“Wait a minute. You want me to stop Cadoc and Rhys from interfering with their father? I don’t see how I can hold them off unless I tell them about your plan.”
He stopped and turned. “Don’t even consider it. The Visitors cannot—must not get wind of our presence here. They know what they did to us and what we will do to them if we get the chance. If they have the slightest suspicion that we are involved, they will never return. You must keep our true natures a secret.”
“But we’re talking about three months—how can I possibly stall them for that long?”
He frowned. “Three months?”
“Yes…until the solstice, right?”
Jason thought about that for a few seconds, then said, “I can’t believe I must depend on a human and her symbiont to come up with a workable plan, but there it is. I don’t care what you do, as long as you don’t kill them.”
Did he just say—?
“‘Don’t kill them’?”
“Absolutely not. Yes, I know that would be the surest way to protect the tower from the Pendry boys, but it would cause major disruptions in their family which could very well distract Elis from opening the passage. And he must open the passage. So, no killing of the Cadoc and Rhys, no matter how tempting a solution it might seem.”
“Tempting…” Daley felt dazed. He was serious. “No killing…”
He smiled. Sort of. “I’m glad we understand each other. Elis Pendry must be fully willing and capable of opening that passage when the time comes. Your entire world and all your fellow humans are depending on you.”
74
…Your entire world and all your fellow humans are depending on you…
Daley watched the crowd out in the street below her front window—she’d spent much of the day standing here—and wondered how so many people, both human and non-human, had come to count on her.
She was still recovering from that surreal meeting with Jason. The phrase The man is crazy kept running through her head, even though she knew he wasn’t a man at all, and probably not crazy by the standards of his species.
Oh, yeah, and keep Rhys and Cadoc from interfering with their father’s plans, and do it without killing them, as “tempting” as that might be…
“I think I know how we can do this.”
Pard had resumed to his lotus position on the couch. (“Do what? Keep the Pendry boys—I’ve grown rather fond of Jason’s designation—away from the tower? I don’t think we can.”)
“Neither do I.”
He frowned. (“Then how—?”)
“I thought about it all the way back from Colorado.”
(“That sounds impressive, Daley, but I happen to know it’s just a short jaunt up the street.”)
“Still, I think I have a solution.”
(“I’m all ears—avatarly speaking, that is. What is it?”)
“I’m going to scam them.”
His eyebrows rose. (“I thought that was all—”)
“In the past? As a lifestyle, yes. But just hear me out. I’ve got three months I’ve got to fill with delays and setbacks—”
(“You can always kill them as per Jason’s suggestion.”)
“Jason…what a weird encounter. I always liked him—until this afternoon. Talk about a…a…” Words failed her.
(“Let me try. How about an arrogant, imperious, condescending—”)
“—asshat.”
(“That fits. No love lost for humans there.”)
“Yeah, but despite those shortcomings, we’ve wound up on the same side, looking for the same result. And to that end, I think I’ve worked out a long game that will put us where we want to be. We work from the premise that none of us believe the Visitors are real—”
(“‘Believes.’”)
“What?”
(“‘None’ is a singular noun so the verb must agree, thus, ‘believes.’”)
She turned on his image. “I’m going to go back to Jason and have him zap you again.”
He waved his hands. (“Don’t even joke about that!”)
At last she had a threat she could hold over Pard. He’d been impervious to any sort of intimidation until now.
“Who’s joking? Now, can I finish uninterrupted?”
(“Please. I’m truly interested.”)
“Okay. They don’t believe the Visitors exist. Neither did you or I until Jason straightened us out, so—” She saw his lips move. “Did you say something?”
(“No. No, nothing.”)
“Your lips moved. Spill.”
(“It slipped out.”)
“What slipped?”
(“‘Nor.’”)
“Nor?”
(“Yes. ‘Neither’ is followed by ‘nor,’ not ‘or.’ But I didn’t say it to you, just to myself.”)
Daley ground her teeth. “Am I ever going to finish telling you my idea? Ever?”
Pard nodded, holding a finger up to his lips and saying nothing.
“Okay. One last time. Since Rhys and Cadoc don’t believe the Visitors are real, I’ll keep reinforcing that, which will make it possible to convince them that the upper part of the tower doesn’t matter, and that we must concentrate our efforts on disabling the lower portion—the part that causes the earthquakes, since those will do all the harm. That will leave the top intact and able to open a passage.”
Pard stared at her a moment, then said. (“That is brilliant, Daley. And ‘brilliant’ is not a word I use lightly. You can further push the plan by telling them that we can find a way to disable the subterranean portion without leaving any evidence of tampering. As a result, their father will have no clue that his tower is functioning at only half-capacity until it’s too late. The bottom is dead but the top can still enable cross-dimensional transport. Genius, I say! Genius!”)
She’d never experienced such effusive phrase from Pard. It made her suspicious.
“You’re serious? You’re not just trying to make up for the grammar torture you put me through?”
(“Daley-Daley-Daley! You can take the girl out of the scam but you can’t take the scam out of the girl. You are one of a kind! I can see only one downside.”)
“Oh?”
(“To make this work, you’re going to have to swallow your pride and deal with Rhys.”)
Daley couldn’t help but smile. “That side is not as far down as you might think. He thinks of me as a soulless con artist—he so much as said so to my face. So it will be such a pleasure to con him into doing exactly what I want.”
THE EQUINOX
Tom
Lucy never learned to drive—no surprise there—so Tom had the wheel of their rented Hummer. He’d wanted to get a driver but she refused to be in a car with a stranger.
He’d tried to talk her out of this fool’s journey, but no one can talk Lucy out of anything. He knew damn well the Visitors were a figment of some ancient nutcase’s imagination. No passage was going to open, and Lucy was doomed to disappointment. But he wasn’t about to call it off and be the one to deprive her of an encounter with her precious Void. Ohhhh, no. She’d never let him forget it. She’d never buy that it didn’t happen. She’d rage that it did happen and she’d have been there to witness it if Tom hadn’t let her down.
No one outside their little household could even begin to understand what a pain in the ass she was. She inspired a very specific version of anti-natalism in Tom: He wished she’d never been born.
So they left before dawn for the long, long drive. He took the 10 down to Indio where he switched over to the 86. And then onto the 111. Kind of surreal down here, passing through desert, then through towns like Coachella and Indio, past farms crammed with thousands of palms, and then back into empty desert—really empty desert. No Joshua trees or Saguaro cacti or even chaparral, just miles and miles of bare sand and scattered sagebrush. And then, out of nowhere, he found himself outpacing a two-mile-long freight train running south on their left.
To add to the pleasure of the trip she provided a droning commentary from memory as they traveled. No, he didn’t know that the San Gorgonio Pass is the windiest place in the United States. Or that snow birds triple the population of Palm Springs every winter. Or that Coachella was supposed to be called “Conchilla”—conch is Spanish for shell and the soil is full of fossilized seashells from when the ocean covered the area—but the original map maker screwed up and printed it as ‘Coachella’ and the name stuck.
Yeah, a running travelogue.
After three hours or so, he spotted something shimmering to the right. It wavered in the sunlight peeking over the Chocolate Mountains, like a giant heat mirage. Everyone has times they think they see a big puddle on the road ahead but when they reach it they find nothing. Only this wasn’t a mirage, this was real. They’d reached their destination. Well, one of them. Their target destination was Nespodee Springs by way of Slab City, so they still had a ways to go.
“Behold the Salton Sea,” he said.
Lucy looked up from her tablet. She’d hooked into the Hummer’s Wi-Fi after they’d passed Coachella and hadn’t come up for air since. For the trip she’d arrayed herself in a bizarre ensemble of red harem pants and a yellow T-shirt. Perfect desert wear.
“Hardly a ‘sea,’” she said. “More like a lake—a giant puddle on the fault.”
“Which fault?”
“The big one—San Andreas. The Salton sits on its southern end.”
How comforting. He’d had no idea it ran this far south.
He said, “Those last two quakes originated down here, right?”
“Yeah. In the Imperial Valley. But not in the San Andreas.”
Oh, good.
“Okay, so, when exactly is this equinox?”
“It’s when the plane of Earth’s equator intersects with the center of the Sun.”
“I don’t care about the astronomy. I meant the time—the hours and minutes on the clock.”
“Ooh, cranky.”
“I’m not a morning person, dear sister. You know that. Stick me behind the wheel at four a.m. and you can count on cranky or worse.”
“We’ll get you another cup of coffee. As for the equinox, it’s today, March 20, at sixteen-twenty-one hours. Or four twenty-one this afternoon for the numerically impaired.”
The dashboard clock read 6:56.
“Well, hell, why did we leave so early? What do we do till then?”
“Explore, dear brother. There’s things I’d like to see before I die and since I don’t get out much, here’s a chance to see a couple. Enjoy. We’re two-hundred-some feet below sea level here. We’re travelling through another world.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Here was this lake in the middle of a trackless low desert sunk between two mountain ranges. The air felt thick, looked thick. He knew people lived here, but damn, it felt empty. Desolate. Deserted.
She said, “We need to get the lay of the land so we know the best place to be when the Void is revealed.”
Tom didn’t want her getting her hopes up too high, because when they were inevitably dashed she might very well crash. And guess who would have to deal with her.
“You need to consider the possibility that this’ll never happen, Lucy. I mean, this is all pretty far out.”
“So you’ve said. And said and said. I’m well aware of that. But there’s so much more cooking beneath the surface here.” She tapped her tablet. “I’ve been reading scans of Osian Pendry’s journals, and it’s clear they didn’t move here on a whim. He had a connection with Tesla and—ooh, look. The visitor center. Turn in.”
“They’re not open at this hour.” Nothing was open at this ungodly hour.
“Oh, I don’t care about that. It’s on the list of stops.”
“I need coffee.”
She started waving a sheet of paper. “It’s on the list! It’s on the list! We have to stop!”
“It’s closed!”
“I don’t care. I want to go down to the beach.”
“You brought a swim suit?”
“I want to see the shore. Turn in! Turn in!”
Grinding his teeth, Tom made the turn and wound along a palm-lined road, through an unmanned gate, and down to a low-slung building on the shore of the Salton Sea. He pulled into in the empty parking lot and Lucy jumped out as soon as he stopped.
“Come on!” she said.
What the hell. But when he opened the door the stink hit him and he almost gagged.
“What is that?”
“Algae bloom,” she said, leaning into the backseat where she was fiddling with the duffel bag she’d brought. “Happens every spring. Stop being a drama queen.”
If anyone was into drama, it was Lucy. Proof was the katana she removed from the duffel and slung across her back. Tom couldn’t believe this.
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Marauders,” she said, slamming the car door.
He gestured around at the empty parking lot. “We’re the only ones here.”
“Appearances can be deceptive. Always prepare for the worst. Let’s go.”
He followed her off the pavement and onto the curiously granular sand that made a funny, crunching sound under his soles. Lucy picked up a handful of the white pebbles and was flicking through them with a finger.
“So cool!” she said.
Curious, he did the same. Took him a second to realize—
“Hey, these are bones!”
Her eyes were bright. “Right. Bits and pieces of the skeletons of the hundreds of thousands of fish and birds that have died from the toxins in that water.”
“I assumed it was all rainwater.”
“Nah. The Colorado River overflowed its banks and flooded the valley a hundred-plus years ago. Left the Salton Sea behind. Since then it’s been collecting the pesticides and fertilizer in the runoff from all the farms nearby. But would you believe it’s still got fish in it?”
“Mutant fish?” His stomach turned. “Imagine what that tastes like.”
“Mostly tilapia. If you can catch one. I mean, imagine how tough a fish has gotta be to survive here. If you hook one it’ll probably pull you in and mug you.”
Tom stared at her. Part of Lucy’s on-the-spectrum thing was she didn’t get jokes, didn’t process humor. And yet…
“Did you just make a funny?”
She frowned and cocked her head. “Did I? I didn’t hear you L-O-L.”
“Not all humor gets a guffaw.”
A shrug as she dropped the crushed bones. “Whatever. I’ve seen enough. Slab City is next on the list.”
Elis
“I’ve assembled you this morning in this rather unorthodox fashion on a matter of momentous importance,” Elis said to the four other Elders of the clan.
“Rather unorthodox?” Iwan Gwynn said from where he was squeezed between Kyle Mostyn and Maddox Baughan in the backseat of Elis’s Land Rover. Bran Llewelyn had been assigned the roomy front passenger seat because of his bulk. “I’m bloody crushed!”
“I know it’s uncomfortable but it couldn’t be helped. I can’t risk anyone but you four hearing this.”
