Convergence (9 page)

Athos cocked his head. “Meaning?”

“Our subs won’t fit, sir. We can’t sail them up the tunnel.”

Athos caught himself before revealing the fact that he’d not considered that. “We were never planning to sail our submarines through the tunnel, Scott.” He laughed, hoping he’d give the impression that Scott’s analysis was worthless, that he, Athos, had already figured it all out.

Jude’s obsequious voice crackled over the comm station. “We weren’t, sir? Why not, if I may ask? We arrived here in armored submarines. Why would we then not sail them through the tunnel to the Alliance base?”

Thankfully, his mind had constructed a compelling argument in support of his blustery proclamation. “You
may
ask, Jude. And I’ll answer. First, as Scott noted, our submarines are simply too large to fit in the tunnel, which was a concern for me as soon as we recognized the fact that the Alliance base wasn’t a freestanding structure. We might consider using torpedoes in an effort to widen the tunnel, but I don’t see that as a successful strategy. Ideally, we’d launch torpedoes at and into the tunnel to collapse the rebel base and destroy all inside. The Alliance are misguided, but we make a mistake to think them so foolish as to leave their base without fortification against an attack. If we’d been able to sail up the tunnel, our window of opportunity to do so has passed. They know we’re coming at this point. I’d suspect they possess sensors, monitoring for the presence of unfamiliar ships. They know we’re here. If we were to sail our submarines up the tunnel one ship at a time…”

“They’ll just destroy us one at a time.” Scott stroked his chin.

“Precisely.” Athos paused for dramatic effect. “We won’t enter the base in the manner they’d prefer.”

“But if their numbers are truly that low—”

Athos waved off Jude’s protest. “They remained hidden from us for five hundred years, Jude, for fear of a massive attack. The tunnel to their base is narrow for a reason. Think about it. Do you
really
think they’ll not have weapons they can train against a single ship… and likely with some success?”

Jude remained silent.

Scott raised a hand, though only Athos could see it. “Sir, I… may I make a suggestion?”

Athos nodded. “Of course.” He paused, realized the danger of his statement, and added an amendment. “We’ll see if it aligns with my thinking.” He could let Scott make a suggestion, and if it made sense, he could now claim it had been his plan all along. It was a trick he’d learned from the Leader.

“Well… I’ve thought about a few possible approaches. The subs are too large to fit inside the tunnel, but we do have the small pods that we can detach and sail up the tunnel instead. They’ll fit, as they’re basically the same size as the pods the Alliance are using. We could send our men into the tunnel in that fashion. It’s not quite as obvious for any Alliance watching, because it may just look like a few more of the pods they’re already expecting. But…”

“But we’d still send one ship in at a time, one the Alliance could destroy at will given that our shuttle craft don’t possess weapon systems.” Athos nodded. “Continue.”

“Option two: We commandeer those spheres of theirs and ride them in.”

Athos hadn’t considered that one. But he knew the tone well enough to know Scott didn’t like this option. “But…?”

“But they don’t hold many people. They’re small. We’d get, say, five men at a time into a passing pod and let them sail up the tunnel. But those pods only float by about every five minutes. So…”

Athos nodded. “Very good, Scott. We’re back to the same problem yet again. We’re too easy for the Alliance to pick off while we’re stuck in that tunnel when we can’t present our full firepower—torpedo or Energy-based—at once. Continue.”

Scott nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking as well. We need to get everyone into that base immediately, all at the same time.

Athos glanced at him. Was he truly suggesting mass teleportation? “That would work, save for one minor detail. We don’t have an image for our target destination. Nor do we know just how far we might have to travel.”

“I know.” Scott nodded slowly, as if making a difficult decision. “So here is my suggestion. I’m the weakest of the team in terms of teleportation. If that base is two or three miles away I won’t make it. So… I’ll get aboard one of those pods. The Alliance might not notice a single Aliomenti, especially given my below average Energy levels, and it’s possible they’ll think I’m coming to talk surrender terms.” He spoke the last few words in a sarcastic tone, and the captains shared a laugh at the absurd idea. Surrender to the Alliance? “I consider the odds that they’ll blast my pod out of the water to be very low, and it’s a risk I’m willing to take to bring down the enemy.” He took a deep breath. “Once I get inside, I’ll find a spot that looks safe for teleportation and transmit to all of you an image of the space via telepathy. Hopefully you’ll hear from me in the next twenty minutes or so. If not…” He swallowed.

Athos nodded. “I find your thinking to be quite sound, Scott. Your willingness to volunteer for the scouting role, with full understanding of the danger it poses, won’t be forgotten.” He clapped Scott on the back. “Go, board one of the pods, and we’ll eagerly await your communication.”

Scott nodded. He moved from the comms station to the clear window overseeing the darkness outside the submarine, watching as a faint light approached. He closed his eyes, no doubt using clairvoyance to explore the approaching pod, identifying images of the interior that would enable teleportation.

Seconds later, Scott vanished.

And then they waited.

It was agonizing. He imagined everything that might go wrong. Perhaps the tunnel reached a length of twenty miles, a distance rendering teleportation an impossibility for much of the crew. The Alliance might, despite their earlier self-talk of the low likelihood, elect to destroy the pod with a stranger. Scott might reach the base, leave the pod, and find himself captured. Perhaps the Alliance had discovered a technique enabling telepathy blockages.

As the time passed, the captains grew anxious as well. Anxious men considered uncomfortable outcomes and asked awkward questions. “What happens if he doesn’t succeed, Hunter?” Jude asked.

Athos said nothing aloud. He’d ask for another volunteer if Scott failed in his contact efforts. He’d order someone into the scouting role if needed. But what if
that
person failed as well? He wouldn’t get any more volunteers. The men would sense the pattern quickly, and would choose not to avail themselves of an opportunity to die among the enemy in this strange place.

“He
will
succeed,” Athos said.

His voice was quiet. But his tone made clear that no further discussion on the topic would occur. In light of their recent success in finding the Alliance base, the men respected his comment

The image flashed into his mind. A room. Large, spacious. Plenty of space for the men to meet en masse. Space where they could advance upon the unsuspecting members of the Alliance, a telepathic message that burst forth without warning.

It was the perfect landing spot for the invasion.

The captains whistled as they, too, sensed the message and saw the teleportation target image in their minds.

Athos smiled. “As I said: Scott
will
succeed. And he has.” He paused dramatically. “Round up the troops, gentlemen. We leave in five minutes.”

Five minutes later, the Aliomenti subs emptied as the warriors aboard teleported inside the Alliance base.

The war for control of the Alliance base had begun.

The nano-constructed raft bobbed upon
the water, a motion Fil often found soothing. He’d learned early in his life that water gave comfort, the sounds and motions often providing sufficient relaxation to allow him restful sleep.

In the distance, on the horizon, he saw a reminder that with him, even water could be deadly.

He’d positioned himself two miles from the main port of Headquarters Island. The distance ensured he’d not be seen aboard his invisible raft by anyone on the Island until he chose to make his presence known.

Waiting for that moment was difficult, for it let him remember the past. He saw their faces once more, saw the light in their eyes vanish in death, remembered the anguish. He’d learned to compartmentalize the pain, observing rather than feeling it, a means of ensuring he’d never again lose control in so deadly a manner. His eyes flicked from their downcast position, staring at the fish swimming merrily along beneath his raft, back toward the Island. That outburst had stripped the Island bare, forcing the Aliomenti to rebuild. That had taken them time. He’d been far more concerned with the loss of life. His parents knew—no,
everyone
knew—that with different attitudes this battle would be one devoid of risk for the Alliance. But everyone knew he’d never again unleash his power with the intent to destroy. There were others within the Alliance who had the ability. They’d all seen Fil’s fifteen-decade-long period of mourning and agreed they’d avoid the annihilation approach in favor of surgical strikes.

Cut off the head of this monster, and it wouldn’t grow back. The body would fall in line.

He watched his tablet, waiting for his signal. Messages poured in. Voice recognition software provided transcripts from the activity on the Island. They’d planted the disks without detection. His parents were concerned about Ashley. Gena had surprised him with a broadcast message about an Aliomenti submarine fleet—heavily armed—arriving outside the Cavern tunnel, with Athos the Hunter directing the mission. They’d known that at some point the Aliomenti would find the Cavern or one of the ports and unravel the underwater mystery of the Alliance. He’d known it would happen, but after so many decades spent waiting he’d trained his mind to believe the Cavern forever invisible.

Fortunately, his mother had devised their strategy assuming a Cavern discovery and invasion. Gena, Adam, and the rest of those in the Cavern would deal with Athos. His aunt was suitably powerful in her own right. Fil allowed a rare smile. When he’d learned Gena’s identity, he felt he’d somehow always known.

To the east, the untraceable island called Eden served as a key part of the plan, with his sister and Charlie overseeing the bustling of activity yet to come. He was privately pleased his father had coaxed Angel into that role, because Eden remained the safest place for her. Angel didn’t like it at all. If he knew his sister, and his aunt, he knew they’d eventually complete their work and make their way to Headquarters Island to partake of the fight yet to come.

He wanted to end it before they got that chance.

A new message appeared on his tablet from his mother. Though they’d detected financial transfers to the sweep accounts, they’d not received any direct communication from Ashley. With the timeline compromised, they’d need to initiate the next phase soon. The message was clear. Ashley’s mission had been a success… to a degree. She’d activated the software, but if she’d been unable to send or respond to communications, there was a risk she’d been captured, injured, or… worse. He swallowed. He’d understood with the rest of them that there were no guarantees they’d all leave the Island alive, a risk they’d each understood in agreeing to eschew cloning. The idea that Ashley might already be their first casualty gave him a feeling of dread and an omen of failure.

His tablet chimed silently and he read the next message. They’d still not heard from Ashley, but they’d confirmed both virus applications were operational.

Time to begin the next phase.

He tapped out a message, speaking to himself as the words appeared on the screen. “I’m moving. See you soon, everyone.” He folded the tablet computer in half twice before slipping it into a pocket and standing upon the invisible float.

Fil sent the nano-based float skimming over the water at high speed. The wind rustled his dark hair and the spray of sea water pelted against his skin. He formed a small batch of nanos into a replica of the mirrored sunglasses he’d worn while working with the younger version of his father the previous few months. They served a practical purpose now—keeping the wind and saltwater spray from his eyes—just as they’d done before in shielding his identity until Will Stark could safely know Fil’s true identity.

Perhaps
that
omen would counteract the portent relating to Ashley’s lack of communication since entering the Aliomenti data center.

As the craft gained speed and he completed the safety precautions, he formally announced the Alliance presence at Headquarters Island. For the first time since childhood, Fil intentionally released his Shield while fully exposed to the outside world.

He knew Porthos’ Tracking sense would be overwhelmed with the immense burst of Energy, and the Hunter was likely racing to deliver the message to the Leader. That was exactly what they’d wanted. Fil’s de-Shielding would pull attention his way, taking it away from Ashley as she worked to escape the data center safely and without detection, and would hide the fact that dozens of Alliance stood invisibly outside Headquarters.

He felt their presence at the primary dockyard, felt the shock and surprise from the human workers at the sight of a man dressed in black gliding at high speed across the water toward them without visible means of floatation or propulsion, and the fear from the Aliomenti supervisors there as the immensity of the Energy surge washed over them. He saw some of them drop to their knees and curl to the ground as the surge moved forward. He altered course, avoiding the large ships used to ferry human workers—no, Fil thought, human slaves—to Headquarters Island, and propelled himself into the air and onto the dock.

He added a flip at the end, one that would make any parkour practitioner proud.

The four human men nearest him stood slack-jawed, staring at him with faces of abject confusion. As the shock of his appearance wore off—the human species, Energy-enhanced or not, adapted quickly—several men brandishing assault rifles stepped forward, pointing the barrels in Fil’s direction. He found that odd. His grandfather had long banned firearms of any type. Perhaps he’d reversed that stance in a practical reconsideration of the matter in anticipation of an Alliance invasion.