Bloom (9 page)

“Please, have a seat,” said the man. His voice also belied his origins; it flowed easily with the fused inflections of many different languages. The chair in front of him was already turned around to face backward, so Colton sat down.

Reece sat in the chair across the aisle.

The door closed and the engines whined powerfully as the jet coasted across the pavement.

“You must be thirsty,” said the man, turning to Reece. “Alistair, something to drink for Mr. Ross’s friend.”

“Thank you,” said Reece. “This is a great plane you have here.”

The man smiled. Alistair returned promptly and handed Reece a clear glass with clear liquid within. Ice cubes clinked against the glass as Reece raised it up.

“Cheers,” he said, and drank. “Hey, that’s pretty good. What is it? I’m not sure I—I—”

His eyes rolled back into his head and his body slumped down. Alistair took the drink from Reece’s hand before he could drop it and eased him into the chair. He pulled the seat belt across Reece’s lap and snapped it into the buckle on the other side, then spun the chair around to face away from Colton and the other man.

“Hey!” said Colton, standing up.

“It’s alright, Mr. Ross,” said the man in the chair. “He is simply resting. He will wake up in several hours, feeling much better than he was before. I promise.”

Colton looked down the plane toward the door. The ground outside was already moving too quickly for him to jump. He would also have to leave Reece behind, and that wasn’t going to happen.

The man in the chair cleared his throat. “I need to speak with you about some things that are best not discussed with…well, with those who might not fully understand.”

“You friend
does
talk an awful lot,” said Alistair.

“Thank you, Alistair,” said the man in the chair.

Alistair smiled and nodded at Colton, then walked to the front of the plane and closed a partition behind him.

“My name is Bernam,” said the man. “Alistair and the driver—even the pilot—work for me.”

“Where are we going?” asked Colton. He slowly sat down in his chair but did not fully relax.

Bernam smiled to show a row of perfect white teeth, just like Alistair’s. “Montana, as my associate told you earlier.”

“Why?”

The nose of the plane rose in the air and Colton leaned back into his seat to keep from falling forward. He looked outside through one of the round windows lining the cabin and watched the ground drop away quickly.

“We are persecuted for our abilities, Colton, just like everyone else who is branded as ‘different’ by conventional society.”

Colton looked at him. “So you have it, too?”

Bernam pressed a black button set into the panel next to his seat. “Charles, no need to panic.”

He released the button and a moment later the voice of the pilot spoke from speakers embedded in every headrest of each chair in the plane: “Yes, sir.”

Bernam placed his palm against a strip of lights running along the wall next to his seat. Colton looked around, but nothing happened. Bernam smiled.

A low hum built throughout the cabin, seeming to come from every surface in the plane. All of the lights dimmed and almost blinked out. The plane’s jet engines whined and struggled to operate. The cabin shook as the plane dropped a few feet in the air.

Bernam removed his hand from the wall and all of the lights instantly brightened. The engines powered up to full capacity and the plane leveled itself and continued on its way as if nothing had ever happened.

“What…” said Colton, staring dumbfounded. “I can’t do anything like that.”

Bernam chuckled. “Not yet, no. But we are the same, Colton. Our ‘gift’—for lack of a better word—is what makes us special, what sets us apart from the rest of the world. Would you like something to eat?”

“What?” Colton was thrown off by the sudden change in subject.

“Are you hungry?”

“No. I mean yes, but I’m fine.”

“Very well. I’ll keep going then, shall I?”

Colton nodded.

“You are a Conduit. A channeler, as I am. You take the energy around you and harness it to your whim, focusing it onto a target of your choosing.”

“Like the apple.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. It’s not important.”

“You can store this energy inside of you without unleashing it, but not for long. With training, the strongest of us can contain it for half a minute at the most.”

Colton didn’t want to tell Bernam that he could hold on to the energy from an apple for half an hour, if not longer.

“What happens if you don’t release it?”

“It has to go
somewhere
,” said Bernam. “It’s like lightning in that sense, you see. If the energy is not redistributed in time, it will take the easiest way out—through your nervous system, internal organs, and anything else blocking its way to freedom.”

Colton swallowed hard.

“But don’t worry about that,” said Bernam. “That’s what the training is for. Your limits will be tested and you will know exactly how much you can handle at one time.”

Colton nodded. “So, are you some kind of a leader?”

Bernam laughed. “Not at all. I am a businessman with a vested interest in your future. Yours and everyone who is like you.”

“How many are there? Like us, I mean,” said Colton.

“Not nearly enough. And with the constant fighting it’s a wonder there are any left at all.”

“Who are you fighting?”

“Ourselves. Every Conduit needs a Source—someone to supply the energy that will be used. A Source has the ability to create their own energy. The most powerful Source can harness something called Phoenix energy—a label whose meaning will be made obvious to you in time. There are far fewer Sources than there Conduits, making them somewhat of a rare breed among rare breeds. The main issue is that there are those who would rather keep their abilities to themselves and use them to hurt the innocent.”

“Is that why you’re fighting them?”

Bernam scoffed. “One of many reasons. They have joined together to kidnap unprotected Sources and Cons for cruel experimentation. You are lucky that I found you before they did.”

“How
did
you find me, anyway?”

“Not all of my abilities will be revealed to you, Mr. Ross. As I was saying, long before these cruel individuals started their mad crusade, we fought for the same reason everyone fights: difference of opinion. But I digress from my main goal, which is to enlighten you about the state of the dangerous world in which you have been so mercilessly thrown.” His dark eyes glinted with devotion. “Each one of us is powerful on our own, Colton, even without a true counterpart. Some are stronger than others. Some can do no more than sap the energy from a fresh leaf and use it keep their own fingernails from turning yellow. The strongest can drain the life from every person in a room and use that energy to add ten years to their own existence.

“We are made this way for a reason. Unfortunately, nature has only given each of us one half of a grand equation. It is only when we work together that we can we achieve our full potential. This pairing of Source and Conduit is called Unity. Together we become something else entirely—something more powerful than we could ever hope to be on our own.”

“I’m not quite sure I understand.”

“Of course not!” Bernam chuckled. “You’re still thinking about your job, and your apartment, and all those other things you left behind. Eventually all of that will drift into the background, then disappear entirely. That’s perfectly normal. Consider this more of an introduction than anything else.”

Colton looked over at the back of Reece’s chair.

“Occasionally,” said Bernam, noticing Colton’s hesitation, “a Source is so powerful that they will literally burn themselves up from the inside out unless they have a Conduit capable of harnessing and redirecting the energy. It is like a wellspring inside of them, and without the proper outlet…
boom
. That is why it is so important to work together. It is the way things were meant to be. And
that’s
what I want to change. All of this fighting is pointless. It keeps us from finding true Unity with our counterparts. We need to weed out the bad elements and start over.”

Bernam sighed.

“But,” he continued, “things are never that easy, are they? It would be too convenient if
any
Source could pair with
any
Conduit. Not only does the Conduit have to have the proper capacity for storage and redistribution, but there seems to be another factor at work whose machinations I have as of yet been unable to pinpoint.”

“What is
that
supposed to mean?”

“In short, Mr. Ross, it appears as if each Source has only
one
specific Conduit with which they can pair. A second half which, for all intents and purposes, they were destined to be with. These two individuals are always less than one year apart in age. Beyond that, it could be anyone.”

“And you haven’t found yours yet?” asked Colton.

Bernam stared at him coldly. “We deviate too far from our discussion, Mr. Ross. As I was going to say, there are those who would rather cut us into little pieces to try and figure out what makes us tick than help us make our own way in this vast and lonely world. I want to undo all the years of pain that our kind has endured, Colton. I want to make it safe for people like you and I to live in peace.”

“No offense,” said Colton, “but I was doing just fine until you guys found me.”

“Ah, but how long would it have lasted, I wonder? All it takes is one little mistake before someone sees you and the walls come crashing down. Trust me—no one can hide forever.”

“But what happens if I’m never matched with the right Conduit?”

Bernam held up his hands in mock defeat. “Then you will suffer the same fate as many of those who came before you,” he said. “Without true Unity, you will be stuck as you are now, relegated to a life of mediocre ability, never fully reaching your true potential.” He flashed a thin smile. “No offense, of course. Still—there is another path. You can let me to teach you how to better yourself.”

Colton crossed his arms and sat back in his seat. “That’s a lot to think about. To be honest, it sounds crazy.”

“Indeed it is.”

“You say there are others like us?”

“Correct.”

“And another group is out there, hunting them down and killing them.”

“Through experiments of a most vicious nature.”

Colton looked through the window and into the distance. The sun was just rising above the clouds. With half his heart he wished he were back in Pennsylvania as a boy nine years ago, before his mother left and his father became a man that no one would miss if he passed away. Life had seemed less like a chore and more like an adventure.

With the other half of his heart he grasped at the future, and at the possibility of finding new meaning on a new path; a beacon in the darkness.

Colton looked at Bernam. “What’s the next step?”

Bernam smiled and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! A choice you will not regret.” He leaned over in his chair to look through the window and down at the ground several miles below. “The next step is a little test of your abilities. Time is of the essence.” He stood and walked toward the front of the plane. “Please, follow me.”

Colton looked out the window but saw only clouds. He stood and walked toward the cockpit.

Bernam knocked on the sliding partition and Alistair appeared almost instantly.

“It’s time,” said Bernam.

Alistair nodded and beckoned for Colton.

“Good luck,” said Bernam, and patted Colton on the back before going to the other side of the partition and sliding it shut behind him.

“Why do I need luck?” asked Colton, looking around warily.

“You know what kinetic energy is?” asked Alistair. He started unscrewing four silver bolts on the corners of a plastic panel in the middle of the airplane door.

“Uh…it’s moving energy? The energy something has when it’s moving.”

“Exactly,” said Alistair. “And here I was thinking the American education system was bunk.” He pulled off the plastic panel to reveal a red handle. “I want you to imagine a small battery falling toward the ground.”

“Okay…”

“Now imagine that, as the battery drops, the kinetic energy increases. The battery charges itself with the energy that builds up during the fall.”

Colton nodded.

“So, if the battery hits the ground fully charged, what happens?” Alistair casually rested his hand on a handhold next to the door and gripped it tightly.

“It splats, just like anything else.”

“Precisely. Only, the more charge the battery has stored within itself at the point of impact—the longer it has been falling—the bigger the splat. But what would happen if, somehow, at the last second before impact, the battery could discharge all of its kinetic energy, thereby completely negating its momentum?”

Colton frowned. “I guess it would cancel out the fall and the battery would land safely on the ground.”

“Excellent!” said Alistair. “I want you to think really hard about that in the next few minutes.”

“Why?” asked Colton.

“Because you’re the battery.”

Alistair turned the handle on the door and flung it open. Wind ripped into the cabin and the jet shuddered violently. Colton was thrown off-balance and managed to get both feet back on the floor just as Alistair placed his hand firmly in the middle of Colton’s back and shoved him out of the plane.

He tumbled through the air, spinning rapidly as he dropped toward the Earth. His vision was a lightning-fast slide show—plane getting smaller, ground getting closer, plane getting smaller, ground getting closer.

The wind tore at his clothes, whipping his shirt up over his face every time he flipped in the air.

Colton closed his eyes and screamed.

10

H
aven opened her eyes and blinked against the harsh white light coming from the ceiling. It flooded her vision and stabbed into her brain like a dull knife. She tried to hold up her arm to block the light but was unable to lift it from the hard surface on which she lay.