Stones: Theory (Stones #4) (33 page)

Now do you feel it?

Jhata’s voice resonates in his mind like the soft purring of a cat. He feels the warmth of another presence inside him. The Stones on his chest blush with a slight vermillion glow.

She draws her fingers up her own arm. Ryzaard senses the soft touch.

A gentle flow of images passes across his eyes. A young girl in a colorful dress playing hide and seek inside a large house. She opens a closet door and discovers a man. They laugh.

My father. The only time he ever played with me.

The young girl is walking through a forest of trees with broad green leaves. She bends over a brook. Dipping her hand in the water, she brings it to her mouth.

Ryzaard tastes the sweet wetness running down his throat. “Do we have full access to each other’s minds?” Instinctively, his head drops back as he drinks in the pleasant sensations.

Jhata’s voice comes again into his mind.

As a Stone Holder with a master control unit, you have full and instantaneous access to the mind of anyone with an implant. You can send and receive. You can take control, if you like.

“But what about you and me?”

Jhata nods.

We have a unique relationship. Each of us will share only what we choose to share with the other. A certain amount of privacy is beneficial to our work. There is one exception that you should always keep in mind.

“And what is that?”

Whenever I choose, I can force unfettered access to your mind. Nothing will be off-limits. Thoughts. Memories. Intentions. That is the price you pay for the power I give you.

“No surprise there,” Ryzaard says. “Tell me how the other implants work.”

The other master control units are for your trusted staff and lieutenants. Because you have a Stone, their minds, like all others with an implant, will be completely open to your control. They, on the other hand, will have only the amount of access to other minds you allow.

The full picture is starting to become clear. “What about the slave units?”

You control them. Your staff can also control them if you allow. The slave units all have imbedded access to your Earth’s Mesh and limited passive access to other slave units. All subject to your control.

Jhata looks up and parts her lips. “What do you think?”

Ryzaard takes a step back and brings a hand up to stroke his forehead. “Incredible.” His head is already spinning with possibilities. “If it really works as you say, it will change everything.”

“It will work.”

“I’d like to test it before taking it back to Earth.”

Jhata nods. “I thought you might.” She walks past Ryzaard, crosses the floor, pushes through a door and emerges onto a courtyard. The smell of the ocean hangs heavy in the night air. Jhata moves across the cobblestones to a high railing at the far end.

Ryzaard follows her kimono figure out into the night and stops at the railing beside her.

Far below, they see the lights of a collection of huts far off in the center of the plain.

Jhata points. “Down there is a village of about 500 individuals I brought here from another planet. I keep them like exotic pets until I tire of them, at which point I dispose of them and draw from some other planet. They call themselves the
Chimpotee
. They’re a simple people, lacking advanced technology other than a certain talent in the use of hallucinogenic plants. I find it refreshing to have them here and study their ways so I never lose my connection with true humanity.”

“A good test case, but I think there’s a better one.” Without thinking, Ryzaard’s hand goes up to his ear. “Have you lost the girl I brought to you a few days ago?”

“Jessica?” Jhata crosses her arms and stares down at the village. “She couldn’t have gotten far. I’m saving her for special treatment. It will be useful to have leverage when the time comes to deal with Matt, will it not?” She turns to face Ryzaard. “I see in your memories what he and that little girl did to your collection of antique artwork. A pity you didn’t dispatch both of them long ago.”

Anger flashes in Ryzaard’s face. It’s difficult getting used to Jhata’s constant barrage of insults. Anything having to do with Matt is a particularly sore spot. He breathes in deeply, feeling the rage dissipate.

“I would like nothing better than to dispatch him.” Ryzaard’s hand slips into a pocket, fishing for the packet of black Djarums. He silently curses when he realizes they are on the conference table back in Manhattan. “In fact, I thought you might have already.”

“What do you mean?”

Ryzaard points down at the valley below. “I thought you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“He’s here.”

Y
arah stares at her dark, dead Stone and the open lid of the cloaking box. “When will I be able to snap the lid shut so I can use my Stone?”

“Only if there’s an emergency. We have to be careful. The minute we activate the Stones, Jhata will know we’re here.” Matt kneels in front of Yarah. “I’ll signal you.”

“How?” Yarah looks up with fear in her eyes.

Matt pumps the pulse rifle. “With this. If you hear or see shots, that means I need my Stone. Snap the lid shut on the cloaking box. Then be ready for Jhata to come.” Matt kisses the top of her head and looks up to Alexa. “Protect her.”

Alexa pumps her rifle and nods.

Hope I can trust her
, he thinks.
No other choice for now.

Moving out from behind the wall, Matt creeps to the rear of the crowd.

The chanting of the villagers reaches a frenzy. The sound moves like a contagion through the crowd, across the ring of fire, and to the center. The heads of the three old women in flowing robes appear above the flames, standing next to the four men holding knives. All of them look down at the ground, their lips moving in unison with the chanting.

Suddenly the crowd of villagers jumps to their feet. Fists pump up and down as if they are running in place. They all seemed to saying the same words over and over.

Chim-po-tee. Chim-po-tee.

Matt grips his Stone in one hand and hugs the pulse rifle close to his body. Struggling to see the men with knives, he enters the sea of chanting humanity and pushes through it. No one stops or challenges him. Most of them have closed their eyes, overtaken by mass hysteria. At the edge of the fire, Matt strains to see over the flames.

Before Matt can get through the wall of fire, the four men with knives lunge down. Moments later, they stand, blood dripping from their blades.

Matt squints. Three people lie on the ground. Two of them are dressed like the other villagers, long gray hair trailing on the ground behind their heads.

One wears a white dress. He scans the body, starting with the head and moving to the feet. Brown hair. The skin of a younger woman. That unique curve to her thigh and calf.

Jessica.

A scarlet patch spreads in the middle of her chest.

Without further thought, Matt raises the barrel of the pulse rifle and pulls the trigger. Blue sparks shoot into the air. The sound echoes off the walls of the surrounding mud huts.

The crowd goes silent.

Matt hears the sound of the cloaking box snapping shut somewhere behind him.

Good job, Yarah.

His hand slams against his chest. As the blue skin armor flows over his body, he runs through the wall of fire and kneels down at Jessica’s side.

The Stone shines white in his hand.

The gaze of the three old woman and four men drops to the Stone. They stumble back.

They are yelling, but Matt can’t understand the words. Dropping the pulse rifle at his side, Matt looks down. Blood is pouring out of Jessica’s chest. He can’t tell whether she’s breathing.

Please hold on.

The world falls away as Matt closes his eyes and searches in the darkness of his mind for Jessica. He expects to find her floating in open space. Instead, he finds himself plunged into a world of colorful spheres and floating clouds. Faint tones of music, like wind chimes in a silent room, play far away.

He searches in the chaos for her face.

Finally, he catches a glimpse of a woman in a light-blue outer garment floating in space below him. He shoots down to her side and sees Jessica, eyes wide open, arms out-stretched, gazing in wonder at the hues of pink and yellow.

She turns to look at him with a smile. “Do you hear the music?”

“Jessica, I have to heal you.”

Her eyes take several seconds to blink. “It’s wonderful here, don’t you think?”

“You’re hurt.” Matt puts a hand firmly on her shoulder. The other grips the white Stone in his hand. “Hold on just a little longer so I can help you.”

She smiles and lets her gaze drift to the world around her.

He pushes his way inside to fix the stab wound in her heart, but when he gets there, it’s all functioning perfectly. There’s nothing to fix. Confused, he pulls back out and looks down at her. She still has the blissful smile, but the eyelids are no longer wide open.

“Jessica?”

She stares up at him and says nothing.

Matt shakes her shoulders. “Jessica, do you know who I am?”

For a moment, she doesn’t answer. Her eyes gloss over. “I’m getting sleepy. I think I’ll take a nap.”

“No!” Matt says. “Something’s wrong, Jessica. You have to stay awake.”

For the first time, she focuses squarely on his face. “My name is Jessica? Who are you?” Her eyes turn away and start to drop down.

“I’m Matt.” He shakes her shoulders until her eyes open again. “The one who loves you.” With his face close to her, he presses his lips down onto hers. Both of their eyes close for several seconds. Matt feels a subtle flow of warmth from her. He slowly pulls away. “I have to go now, but I’ll be back. Please stay awake for me. Can you do that?”

Her eyes flicker with recognition. “I will.”

Matt nods, closes his eyes and lets go. When he opens them, he’s kneeling in the middle of the fire circle next to Jessica’s body. The scarlet spot is larger. Reaching out to the flow of time, he grabs and stops it.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” Yarah kneels in the dirt next to him.

“I tried to heal her, but it’s not working.” Matt shakes his head. “I can’t seem to get through to her.”

Yarah bends closer, small fingers gripping a white Stone. “Her mind. It’s not the same.” Yarah looks up at the three old women standing like trees a few feet away. Her eyes quiver back and forth between them.

She’s inside their minds.

When the quivering stops, Yarah stares back at Matt. “They made her drink something called
drangee
. It wipes away your memories. Makes you forget who you are, at least for a while.”

“She’s almost dead,” Matt says. “We don’t have time to wait for the drug to wear off. I tried, but I can’t seem to get through to her.”

“Let me try.” Yarah closes her eyes.

The flames of the fire are like stone sculptures. The men with knives have surprise and fear on their faces. Their gaze is fixed on Matt’s hand.

They’ve seen a Stone before. Jhata. She’ll be here soon.

Ten seconds later, Yarah opens her eyes and shakes her head. “Her mind is a complete blank. She doesn’t recognize me. I can’t get through to her to do the healing.” Tears roll down her cheeks. “I don’t know what to do.” Her chest moves in and out with labored breathing.

Panic threatens to sweep through them.

Matt resists it with a long inhale and slow exhale. “Maybe we need the power of two Stones.” He turns to Yarah. “Can you do it?”

Yarah shakes her head. “She needs you. I sensed it. She’s waiting for you even though her mind is mostly blank. When she saw you, it must have triggered a tiny memory. You have the best chance of getting through.”

Matt reaches out his hand to Yarah. “Show me how to use your Stone.”

“Come into my mind. I’ll take you as far as I can.”

Matt closes his eyes. A beautiful grown woman floats in a star-filled universe next to him. Yarah.

“Don’t be overwhelmed by the power you feel.” Yarah’s words sound like the voice of a goddess. “Take it and use it.” She turns and holds his hands. “Now project yourself into my mind. You’ll find yourself on an open plain. Think about going down, deeper. Think about my eyes. Try to find them so you can see as I see. You’ll see the Stone in my hand. Reach out and take it. Then hold on.”

“Got it,” Matt says. “Now listen to me. It’s difficult to let another to take over your Stone. You’ll feel helpless. Suffocating. No matter what, just hold on. I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

Fear sweeps across Yarah’s face. “Quickly. Before I have a chance to change my mind.”

Matt looks into her eyes at the openness behind them. He throws himself forward, through her black pupils into the world beyond. Stars blur into lines. Yarah becomes a palette of dark colors. Her eyes move over him, around him, past him.

He stands on an infinite plain, grass the color of soft emeralds beneath his feet. A gentle breeze blows rhythmic lines across its surface like ocean waves. The lapis sky draws his eyes upward.

Yarah’s words float through his mind.