The Obsidian Mirror, page 6
“How can we stop it?” she asked, her throat constricted with dread.
“You must ask instead, how can you stop him?”
“Me? I’m nobody. I have no magical powers. But you’re an Avatar. You’re powerful.”
The old man shook his head, causing the green carved stones to sway heavily on his chest.
“I cannot. In a direct battle, we are too evenly matched. Neither will win, but great damage will be done in the struggle—perhaps as many innocent lives would be lost in war between us as would be lost if Necocyaotl continues unchecked. I must work against him by thwarting his works, by winning his people to my side. You know of one such person yourself. She was your overseer.”
Sierra sat up straighter, startled.
“You mean Jenna Simmons? The head of Black Diamond Semiconductor?”
Quetzalcoatl nodded.
“I never exactly liked the woman, but I didn’t think she was evil.”
“She is my brother’s creature,” returned the Avatar. “But I think you can stop her.”
“What is Jenna Simmons doing that’s so bad? I’ve never seen her do anything destructive. She runs a corporation, and as far as I can see, she runs it well. She isn’t even breaking any laws—not that I know of, anyway.”
“Let me ask you a few questions,” said Quetzalcoatl. “These things of crystal and gold that the company makes, what do people use them for?”
Sierra spread her hands wide.
“If you mean semiconductors, lots of things,” she replied. “The ones we make go into all kinds of things—computers, mobile phones, cars, all kinds of electronic equipment.”
“And where would you find this equipment that has the crystals inside?”
Again, Sierra spread her hands.
“Just about everywhere. Most people have some sort of electronic equipment, even if it’s just a mobile phone. Or a TV. Lots of people have computers. And computers are everywhere—stores, office buildings, factories. Everywhere.”
Quetzalcoatl regarded her somberly.
“Do you see it yet? What she’s doing?”
Sierra gazed back in complete perplexity. Chaco sighed, a small sound that echoed in the vastness of the cave.
“I see you do not,” the old man said. “Yours is not a suspicious nature, child. That speaks well of you. But you must learn to be more wary.”
Sierra heard this with impatience.
“So what is Jenna Simmons doing that is so evil?” she asked again. “So what if there are semiconductors in everything? Is the electromagnetic radiation frying people’s brains, or giving them cancer, or something?”
Quetzalcoatl smiled unexpectedly, his wrinkles deepening across his weathered face. He shook his head.
“No. If it were that easy to detect, it wouldn’t be so dangerous. The threat cannot be detected by any of your instruments or machines because it isn't of the human realm. Only a being with the powers of a great Avatar could have concocted such an evil. Here is what happens: a tiny bit of Necocyaotl is added to every crystal that leaves your making-place. These go into the machines you mentioned. The machines are shipped out to homes and businesses all across this earth. And when these machines are given food, and the crystals come to life, Necocyaotl is there. Everywhere those crystals go.”
Sierra stared at him in disbelief.
“What do you mean ‘given food,’ and ‘brought to life’?”
The ancient Avatar looked uncertain for the first time.
“I don’t have the words,” he admitted. “I see that the crystals eat the same ethereal substance that also animates living creatures, and they grow warm and do things as though they were alive. But they are not alive.”
“Oh. Semiconductors work on electricity. You’re right—they aren’t alive. But what you’re saying is crazy,” she protested. “What do you mean? How can Simmons put a little bit of Neco, Neco—whatever—into every semiconductor? She wouldn’t have time to do all that. She’s not even at the company half the time—she’s out meeting people and talking to Wall Street people or the press. It’s just not possible!”
Quetzalcoatl smiled, but sadly, and patted her hand in a grandfatherly manner.
“I didn’t mean that she does it herself,” he said. “People are so clever, so amazingly creative. It’s no wonder they don’t believe in us anymore. Why should they, with such wonders as they have created?”
“Do all the semiconductors in the world have a little bit of Neco—your brother—in them?”
“No, only the ones from Black Diamond,” returned the Avatar. “If you think about it, I’m sure you can see how it is done. Why are the Black Diamond crystals different from all the others?”
“The silicon,” breathed Sierra. “That’s why it’s called Black Diamond. The silicon is formulated differently. It comes out darker, somehow—more like gunmetal than silver. It’s a proprietary process, and the silicon runs way cooler than other semiconductors, so it’s used anywhere heat is a problem. Is the silicon doped with something from your brother?”
The old man merely nodded.
“What does it do?”
She thought of all the electronics upon which her Silicon Valley life relied, wondered how many of them had Black Diamond products inside, and thought uneasily about being poisoned.
“The Obsidian Mirror has discovered a way to spread his essence across the world inside these tiny crystals” answered Quetzalcoatl. “When a vulnerable person comes into contact with his essence, he begins to gaze into that dark mirror, and his vision is forever clouded while he is under its influence. Have you ever wondered,” he continued, “why people pour filth into the rivers and oceans, even though they know that they themselves drink from the rivers’ waters and eat from the seas? That their own children likewise are poisoned by this?”
“Yes,” Sierra said. “I don’t understand it at all. I really don’t.”
“Now you do. They have breathed Necocyaotl’s evil being. They see nothing but their immediate personal gain, comfort, or convenience. They are gazing into the Obsidian Mirror, and they can see nothing but their own gain.”
Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard an explanation that made any sense, thought Sierra, and then realized that in the rational light of day, the explanation made less “sense” than ever. Still, she was inclined to believe him. If you can’t believe a thousands-of-years-old Avatar, whom can you believe? Then she reflected that Neco-whatever was just as old and just as much an Avatar as the ancient creature in front of her.
Why trust this one? she asked herself. Then she thought, because I trust Chaco. Before she had a chance to challenge this thought, Quetzalcoatl spoke again.
“You have told me that you can’t help me. But you haven’t asked me why I believe you can help.”
Sierra gave him her full attention but did not speak.
“You have two very important assets,” said Quetzalcoatl. “First, you have worked where these things are made. You know the people. You know how things are done. You know where everything is.”
Sierra nodded.
“Yes, but you’re overlooking one important fact. I don’t work there anymore. They have strict security. I won’t be allowed anywhere near the place, because I was fired.”
The old man waved this away.
“The other important asset is that you can't be seduced by the Obsidian Mirror. You have been amply exposed to its influence, but you haven't succumbed. You see clearly what happens when the natural world is destroyed. You are not one who would put poison in her own mouth.
“And you,” he said, leaning toward her so that the carved green stones around his neck clacked together, “you are the one who can stop this woman. Stop her forever from spreading ruin across the earth.”
Sierra stared at him, chilled. She hastily began to rise to her feet. Chaco opened his amber eyes and raised his head alertly, ears pricked.
“You’ve got the wrong person.” Her heart slammed against her chest again. “I’m not going to kill her. Not for you. Not for anyone!”
“You misunderstand me,” said the old man sadly. “I am not asking you to murder her.”
Sierra sat down again.
“What are you asking, then?
“Necocyaotl cannot inhabit the soul of any creature who has contact with me or my essence,” explained Quetzalcoatl. “Take some of my feathers. If you find a way to bring them into contact with her skin, my brother’s influence will vanish. He will never be able to touch her again.”
“I’m sorry. Things have changed. I’ve been fired. The company wouldn’t even let me back in the building—at least not past the front desk. There’s no way I could get close enough to her now. I’m sorry you wasted your time on me.”
Quetzalcoatl studied her face for a long while and then his brown face crinkled in a smile.
“I don’t think I have wasted my time, Sierra Carter. I think you will do what I ask. I think you can do what I ask. You have powers you have never suspected. They sleep inside you for now, but they will awaken when you most have need of them.”
Sierra was dismayed. Why didn’t he ask her to do something easy, like spin straw into gold, or count every grain of sand on the shore? “What powers?” she asked. “I’m just ordinary. I’ve never had a paranormal experience, or seen a ghost, or…”
The ancient avatar shifted slightly, commanding her attention, and she stopped speaking. He leaned forward and placed his dark brown, wrinkled hand on her forehead. It felt dry and warm. She closed her eyes. Behind her lids, her brain suddenly lit with colored fire: flames of purple, gold, green, red, and blue. Her eyes popped open in surprise and she stared at Quetzalcoatl. “What did you just do?”
“I only showed you a glimpse of the power you possess, child. It’s there, inside you. But only you can call it into action, only you can use it. Find a way to use your power to fight Necocyaotl and his servants.”
She felt extremely tired suddenly. Things were happening too fast, and they were happening way too weirdly. She wished with all her heart that the past few days had never happened, and thought longingly of her once-despised cubicle with its cozy, familiar computer.
Quetzalcoatl did not seem impatient as she sat silently before him. He neither spoke nor moved while her mind spun like a gerbil on a wheel.
“How do I use the power you say I have?”
Quetzalcoatl smiled tenderly at Sierra. “That, too, is something you must find for yourself. But you will find it. And you will use it to touch Jenna with my feathers and disspell the evil that lives inside her.”
She asked, “Does it have to be the actual feathers? Touching her skin, I mean?”
“It must be the feathers, or something imbued with the essence of the feathers,” he replied. “Something of me must come into direct contact with her.”
“OK,” Sierra said, resignedly. She didn’t see what she was supposed to do, exactly, or how she would do it. But if the Avatar was telling her the truth, she might actually be able to help. She was tired of watching the world being paved over with concrete. Better to trust this old god and his wild coyote than continue to do nothing. Having special power sounded like it might even be possible. Assuming she could figure out how to use it.
“I thank you.”
As he spoke, his voice became a deep, resonant susurrus, and the cavern was suddenly extremely full of snake. But this was a snake like none other since the world began. Its massive loops and coils would have dwarfed even a dragon, if such had ever existed, and instead of scales, the skin was covered with glowing blue-green feathers. Sierra found herself staring into eyes like vast green moons.
“Take these,” hissed the great snake, and a shower of feathers fell at her feet, ringing like wind chimes in a gale.
Sierra grabbed the gleaming feathers, stuffed them in her backpack, and fled. As an old man, Quetzalcoatl had seemed almost grandfatherly, but the Presence back in the cavern did not feel anything like family. This was an ancient power, and no matter how well inclined, it was terrifying.
Sierra shot out of the cave into the sunlight. She leaned against one of the boulders guarding the cave mouth. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she bent over, panting. Presently, Chaco trotted out of the cave and sat next to her, tail curled neatly around his feet.
“That went well, don’t you think?” Chaco asked, grinning in a doggy sort of way.
Sierra glared at him.
“No. I do not. The fate of the world apparently rests on me, Sierra Carter, out-of-work public relations professional. I can’t think of a worse scenario, can you?”
“Oh, I think you’re selling yourself short,” Chaco said encouragingly. “If the Big Q thinks you can do it, trust me, you can do it. ”
“You don’t call him that to his face, do you?”
She would never again think of that vast and ancient presence by Chaco’s flippant sobriquet.
“The Big Q? No. Who would dare?”
He stretched and yawned, showing a great deal of long, pink tongue and sharp teeth.
“Well, better get back to camp. We’ve got work to do, I hear.”
The way back was easier only because it was largely downhill. She slid down the scree leading up to the cave mouth mostly on her rear end, sending up prayers of thankfulness to the inventor of heavy denim. Chaco had disturbed nothing in his passage through the scrub, but Sierra was able to take advantage of the trail of broken branches and crushed grasses she herself had left behind. They arrived back at their campsite after hiking no more than an hour and a half. When Sierra pushed through the bushes into the cleared area, she stopped short in utter dismay.
The camp had been ravaged. The tent was collapsed over the ruin of her sleeping bag, which was leaking stuffing from long slashes. The duffle bags had been ripped open, and her gear was strewn everywhere, broken, snapped and ripped. The cooler had been dumped out and the food ground into the dirt. Standing in the middle of this wreckage was Aiden, looking worried, then relieved, as he saw her.
“There you are! What happened here? I walked down here to say hello, and when I saw what had happened, and you were nowhere around—well, I was about to call the sheriff’s department.”
Mahaha, she thought. It was looking for us. Or something was. She walked over to Aiden. When he wrapped his long arms around her and hugged her, she relaxed into his embrace gratefully. Even though he was virtually a stranger, after the shock of seeing the camp, the hug was welcome. For a few seconds, she felt warm, safe and protected. Then she pulled gently away.
“It must have happened while we were out hiking. Kids, probably. Damn it.”
Aiden gazed down at her, his blue eyes worried.
“Kids?” he said. “I don’t know. This is beyond petty vandalism. Whoever did this was vicious. Malicious.”
“Yeah. Well, we were going home, anyway,” she responded.
Sierra felt a pang of regret; she would have liked to spend more time with him, but now was not the moment.
“We?” inquired Aiden, in a carefully neutral tone of voice.
“Yes, me and Chaco, of course,” she replied ungrammatically, slightly cheered by his interest.
On cue, Chaco sauntered out of the bushes. He began sniffing around the site, as though looking for something.
“I guess I’d better get this mess cleaned up,” she sighed.
Replacing all this equipment was going to cost her, and she couldn’t afford it without a steady salary.
“I’ll help,” said Aiden, and he began to pick up the bits and pieces of her camping gear.
Sierra located some plastic garbage bags that had escaped destruction, and for the next hour, they worked side by side, chatting about places they had camped, about music and movies. They seemed to like the same things, Sierra thought. Once in a while, when she found an item she particularly regretted, like the shreds of her expensive, waterproof windbreaker, she sighed again. Chaco sniffed diligently around the campsite as they worked.
They finished cleaning up the camp, dumping as much as possible of the ruined things into a nearby trash can, but most of it had to go into the trunk of her car.
“Well, that’s that,” she said. “Thanks so much for helping me, Aiden. It was really nice of you.”
He flashed her a smile that made her knees a little wobbly.
“I didn’t mind at all,” he said. “I’d like to get together again some time. Under happier circumstances.”
Sierra’s heart leaped, but she merely smiled and wrote down her phone number and email address on a scrap of paper for him. He gave her another heartwarming hug, so welcome in its humanity after what she had seen and learned. Then she opened the car door for Chaco and climbed in herself. Aiden stood waving after her as she drove off. She watched him in the rear view mirror until Chaco yelped, “Watchwhereyou’regoing!” in time for her to miss a pine tree inconveniently located at a turn in the road.
She swerved, corrected, and noticed that Chaco was in human form again, glowering at her.
“Put your seat belt on,” Sierra said automatically, and Chaco strapped himself in.
“Why did you spend so much time with that guy?” growled Chaco. His black brows lowered over snapping amber eyes.
“Why not? He was very kind to spend all that time helping me clean up. Good thing, too. You were no help at all.”
“I couldn’t very well change shape in front of him, or just appear. That would raise a few questions. There are protocols for this sort of thing, you know,” he protested, then said, “I don’t want you to see him again.”
“Why not?”
“Just don’t.”
“Listen. You and your boss have roped me into this thing, but that doesn’t mean you get to decide who my friends are,” Sierra snapped.
Chaco subsided and sulked for at least a hundred miles. Sierra barely noticed. She was thinking hard about the task she had taken on, its impossibility, and—to be honest—its improbability.
Finally, Chaco broke the silence.
“I’m hungry.”
Naturally, thought Sierra.
Aloud, she said, “OK. Let’s stop in Pleasanton and get a bite.” She pulled off the freeway and found a coffee shop. As she opened the door, she heard a squeaky voice from the back seat.
