Convergence (21 page)

He’d wanted to take out Will, both as a symbolic execution of the Alliance and as a strategic benefit in eliminating the strongest Energy user. He’d identified her as the strongest remaining Energy user there and targeted her instead.

In the end, all he’d done was awaken the one who was
truly
the most powerful Energy user in the Cavern.

She felt the Energy around her, that safe cocoon she’d enjoyed as she’d battled through the most traumatic moments of her life. She’d not noticed the fighting as she’d lost consciousness, for the cocoon blocked out everything. No noise, no sight, no sound. No one would be able to get to her, lest they suffer the same vaporization fate Scott had suffered.

Gena opened her eyes.

She moved her hand to her side again, sliding her shirt up enough to test the wound. She found no scarring, and her skin felt whole. The sensation of pain had dropped ever since she’d regained consciousness.

She found herself atop a temporary bed that gave the sensation she’d been floating inside a cloud. She had no idea where she was. Had she actually died? She looked around once more and saw nothing.

“Adam?”

The cloud around her evaporated.

She found herself in the midst of the central hub of the Cavern, where the smaller rivers converged to flow toward the Beach and the exit. She wanted to cry as she took in the damage caused by the fighting. The devastation was heartbreaking. Buildings crumbled, nothing more than charred ruins. The overhead infrastructure was in shambles, and water poured forth in a dozen continuous waterfalls that drenched the ground below, generating small rivulets that flowed to the rivers. The lights used to control the appearance of day and night were shattered. The Cavern was shrouded in darkness for the first time since Will traveled here alone five centuries earlier.

She saw the small bit of light just ahead of her, and felt her breath drain away at the sight.

People sat huddled under blankets, drinking soothing beverages and sharing food, with Alliance and Aliomenti mingled together in purely random seating arrangements. They’d converged, not to fight, but to talk, to understand, to heal, to share the common experiences that bound them together more than tore them apart. Gena moved forward, hearing two men marred with scars, still bleeding slightly, sharing a laugh over the Alliance man’s first attempt at teleportation in which he’d ended with one arm reformed inside his living room wall.

She could feel the Energy being shared as Alliance shared Energy with Aliomenti to heal a deep gash, and Aliomenti shared Energy with Alliance to set a broken bone. She noted with deep sadness just how few people were visible in the centralized light, reflecting the numbers who’d died before the fighting ceased. She realized that was one reason the scant remaining lighting focused on that spot. They’d left the dead in the dark of the Cavern as a means of avoidance, to try and forget temporarily the fighting that had them converging on a battlefield that so many now rested upon forever. The focus now was on the survivors, on healing wounds both physical and mental. The focus was on the Aliomenti, who needed time and space and support as they came to understand how they’d been mentally altered for a single purpose. It gave the Alliance the chance to know those Angel once called cousins, to feel the compassion for men who’d only an hour before sought the deaths of those living here. It gave each of them the opportunity to calm themselves and avoid hasty actions like trying to teleport eight thousand miles away in one hop to go after the man who’d stolen their lives.

Gena nodded her approval. They’d hoped for just this outcome… but had expected the crowds to be larger, the combined volume of the voices to be louder. She craned her head around and looked for Adam, spotted him, and moved in his direction.

She pulled up with a shock as she reached him, finding him in deep conversation with…

“You must be Gena,” the Hunter said. “You probably know me as Athos, though I’m more properly known as Victor.” He stood slowly on a leg that showed a deep gash, wavered slightly, and held out his hand. She looked at him, perplexed. There was no hint of malice in his face. There was no weapon in his hand. But after two centuries…

Athos sighed as she flinched. “It will take time for the deeper wounds to heal. I can respect that.” He let his hand drop.

She studied his face. Something was different. “What happened to your scar?”

Athos’s hand went to the skin below his right eye, touching it. The skin was smooth and whole, showing no sign of the scar he’d borne for over two centuries. He nodded at Adam. “He fixed it.”

Adam shrugged. “The scar never healed because Will used nanos to keep the wound open, Gena. He programmed them so that they’d never leave that space on the upper layer of his skin. It meant the skin would never fuse back together. We used some of the”—he glanced at Athos—“nano reverser? Is that what you called it? Anyway, we rubbed that on his face and it killed the machines, and then it was a matter of using Energy to help the wound seal.”

She looked at Adam. “You… trust him?”

Adam sighed. “Five centuries ago, Victor here was an aspiring military leader, somewhere in southern Europe. He… wasn’t quite sure if that was his true calling.”

Athos coughed, a wan smile forming on his unscarred face. “That’s a polite way of saying I was a lousy military leader.”

Adam grinned. “The general in charge of the army was part of the Aliomenti. He recognized Victor’s innate and unusual talent in detecting the truth, and suggested he join them. Victor refused.”

Gena blinked. “He did what?”

“Turned the general down. Said he didn’t like the sound of how things worked in the organization.”

“You’re kidding.”

Adam shook his head. “Nope. I scanned him, Gena. It’s true. The Aliomenti general knocked him out cold and took him to the Leader, who programmed him for unwavering loyalty in all things. And thus was born the man we’ve always known as Athos.”

Gena nodded slowly. “The deprogramming medicine worked then?”

Athos nodded. Adam did as well. “The fighting gradually slowed as it took effect, and our people showed remarkable discipline in flipping from fighting to the death to helping the person who’d been trying to kill them. We didn’t stop quickly enough in all cases, though.” He grimaced, shooting an apologetic look at Athos.

Athos nodded. “Let’s leave the past where it belongs, shall we?”

Adam nodded. Gena had the sense they’d covered that topic in depth as she’d slept.

Adam finished his drink and squeezed the cup, which dissolved. They’d enhanced the recycling efforts now; crumbling a cup or plate initiated the dissolution of the materials to the nanos and sent them flying invisibly back to the small “factory” where new material production occurred. Athos stood and gave the cup a tentative squeeze, jumping back as the container dissolved. He hadn’t quite finished, though, and the remaining water doused his hand.

He grinned sheepishly. “Oops.”

Adam moved to Gena and hugged her. “I see you’re all back in one piece.”

She nodded. “I’ve had pretty solid medical care for most of my life.”

Adam smiled, but the smile dissolved quickly. “You know what I have to do now, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

Gena tensed. She knew exactly what he meant, because one couldn’t hear his revelations without realizing the implications in a scenario like this. “I understand it. I respect it. But… I don’t like it.” She paused. “But after that display of Energy power earlier… I’ll struggle to worry about you just a bit more than I might have otherwise. As for the rest of them? I wish them… if not luck, then at least a peaceful ending.”

Adam nodded. “Then I’ll be off.”

Athos grabbed his arm. “Take me with you.”

Adam looked surprised. “Why would I want to do that?”

“The rest of them don’t know that I’ve… changed. I can use that knowledge and my position as Hunter to slow the fighting. I might be able to spread some of that conversion medicine you used on me so effectively.” He paused, and his face took on a pleading look. “Please. I want to help. I want to try to start to make things right.”

Gena frowned. “I was just stabbed by someone we were convinced was on our side and nearly died, Adam. I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Athos looked at Adam. “Do whatever you must to convince yourself. I can’t stay here when I can do far more good elsewhere.”

Adam studied him with a fierce intensity, and Athos seized his head, grunting in pain. Adam’s face relaxed, and Athos gradually lowered his hands. “I trust you, Victor. Are you ready?”

The ex-Hunter nodded as Gena stared at him, with a look that clearly said that she doubted the Hunter’s sincerity.

Adam leaned over to kiss Gena on the cheek. “I hope we can talk a bit more when I get back.”

She nodded, trying to avoid the tears. “Make it quick, mister, or I might come looking for you.”

Adam grabbed the arm of his former enemy and the two men vanished.

Fil stared up into her
eyes, scarcely daring to breathe or believe. “It… but I saw… how?”

Sarah smiled as she worked the net. “Nice to see you again, too, Fil.”

The tears started flowing freely down Fil’s face as Anna knelt beside him. She didn’t touch the net, but her smile warmed him. “It’s okay, Dad. There’s a perfectly logical explanation for everything.” She nodded once, as if convincing herself of something. “Including the question of why.”

Arthur, who’d started realizing that the numbers and momentum weren’t on his side, looked at the group with concern. “Dad? Did she call the Destructor… Dad?” He shook his head. “There are so many Oath violators walking around this room that Aramis would die—” He snapped his mouth shut suddenly and turned to glance briefly at the ground by his side.

Will recognized genuine sadness in a man he’d thought incapable of such an emotion. “Aramis didn’t make it?”

“It’s all your fault!” Arthur snapped. He took a deep breath, steadying himself, but the hatred for Will burned the air around him.

Will glanced at William the Assassin, whose lifeless eyes stared up from his disembodied head, and shook his head. “I’m sorry for your losses.”

Arthur’s face crinkled. He seemed unable to determine Will’s sincerity or how to respond if he were. Instead, he pointed at the women who’d arrived with Will. “Who are they?”

“My daughter-in-law and granddaughter.”

Arthur’s eyes widened, stunned at the news. “But… but your son… he’s the Destructor!”

Will winced. “No, Arthur. He’s my son.”

“But Abaddon… Abaddon killed the Destructor’s family. He told me so himself. He said the threat of their deaths let loose the destruction around the globe. He told me that he executed the Oath-breakers—the wife and daughter of the man we know as the Destructor—and transmitted that video to the man himself, and that upon seeing their deaths the man let loose sufficient Energy to trigger the tsunami that decimated this Island. How…?”

Sarah stood and moved toward Arthur, pointing the knife at his face. Arthur took a step back, fearful of the ghost before him. “Perhaps your Assassin lied to you.”

Fil looked up, startled. “What?”

Arthur sneered. “My Assassin
can’t
lie to me, little lady.” His eyes flicked to the lifeless forms of the two Assassins on the floor. “More accurately, they
couldn’t
lie to me. If he told me it happened, it happened.” He turned toward Will and jabbed a finger at his long-time nemesis, as best he could with a knife pointed at him. “This is your doing, isn’t it?”

Sarah turned away and moved back to Fil, where she resumed sawing through the net. “Hurry,” Fil whispered, his eyes flashing anger at Arthur. “Get me out of here so I can—”

“Shh,” Sarah whispered. “Enough people have died today. He’s no longer a threat to anyone but himself.”

Will glanced at Arthur and moved toward the Leader. “Guilty as charged, I suppose.”

Arthur threw his hands up. “Doesn’t
anyone
stay dead around here? How many times do I have to kill you people before you’ll stay dead? It’s… it’s like you’re a family of cockroaches!”

“Keep talking to my family like that,” Fil hissed, “and I can promise you there’ll be someone in this room who’ll stay
quite
dead.” His voice strengthened as Sarah was able to pull additional strands of the thick netting free.

Arthur’s face flushed. “You really ought to teach your kid some manners, Stark.”

Will glanced at Fil over his shoulder. “Fil, the next time you threaten him, please address him as either Mr. Lowell or Grandfather.”

“I’ll do that, Dad.”

He turned back to Arthur. “Is this my doing? In part. It’s a lot of people’s doing. We experimented with cloning. Full people. It wasn’t perfect, though; our clones died within a week of their births. But it was useful enough, to a degree.”

Arthur’s face lit with understanding. “The casino. That’s why you weren’t dead.”

Will nodded. “Correct. The Hunters did their job. The clone died. I was there, well hidden, until the sword struck. I stayed invisible and teleported my clone away to a hidden place where he could die in peace.”

The net began to fall away even more, and Fil was able to sit up, aided by the first touch of his wife in decades. “Clones? You built clones? Of my wife and daughter? But—”

“Adam told me enough, before I went back in time. Not everything, mind you. But enough. He told me that an Assassin—not William, but another one—would murder my son’s wife and young child, in a manner similar to the circumstances in which I believed you and Hope had died. It wasn’t much to work with. But it was enough.”

Arthur stared. “Adam? But Adam… how could he tell you something about the Cataclysm? He was dead by the time… oh.” He scowled. “You cloned him too, didn’t you?”

“No,” Will said. “Adam, the man you knew for centuries, had a son whom he named Adam. Since neither man aged beyond physical maturity, they looked and sounded nearly identical. Try to keep up, Arthur.”

Arthur shook his head. “If Adam had a son, I didn’t know him at all.”