Continuum (36 page)

Epir makes a big show of frowning and pushing himself away from the table.  My eyes track him as he stands up and starts pacing the length of the dining room, tapping a golden fork in his open palm.  “Your father really needs to work on his manners.  He did not even bother hearing what my messenger had to say.”  Epir pauses in front of me.  “Can you believe his nerve?  He just killed him.”  

He slams his hand forcefully onto the table.  The tines of the golden fork are embedded in the wood of the table in front of my father's empty seat.  The dishes and glasses rattle loudly from the blow and even Umira flinches.  The handle of the fork has curved into the shape of Epir's palm.  He was stronger than his businessman appearance would suggest. 

Epir is spitting with anger, “Not a clean shot through the heart.  No, your father tortured then slaughtered my messenger like he was some filthy animal.”

He continues his pacing around the table.  I busy myself by studying the grain of the wood but Umira seems unfazed by Epir's sudden burst of violence.  He sits back down next to Umira, “Everything shall work out.  I am not that easily offended.  Family is far too important to let these petty things get between us.  Maybe he is a more visual person.”  

He looks at me speculatively, one eyebrow raised.  “Umira, my love, please be so kind as to image Fallon and send it along with another invitation for me.  Ladies, you will have to excuse me.  I will be taking my leave now.  I seem to have lost my appetite.”

Epir leans over and gives Umira a formal kiss on the cheek.  Then he snaps back up from his chair making a straight line for the golden doors as his security scrambles to follow him out of the room.  Umira lifts her left hand, the red lines circling her forearm make it look even more slender, and signals to someone behind me after the doors slide close.  

Half a moment later, a plate of food is placed in front of me.  The smell is tantalizing and my stomach rumbles fiercely, I realize belatedly that I am starving.  I glance down at the plate of unfamiliar food, a strange pastry in the shape of a knot and cut up fruit in bright, unusual colors.  It smells of fresh baked bread and sweet syrup, absolutely mouthwatering to my empty stomach.  Umira picks up a knife and fork and begins to cut her food into tiny pieces.  Even though I am so ravenous I could eat with my hands, I follow her lead.

She pauses mid-slice, surprising me by addressing what just transgressed with an almost apologetic expression, “You know, you get used to it.  The outbursts.”  She stares absently at the candelabra, probably recalling some prior horror Epir has caused at this table. 

After a beat, she resumes cutting her food and once she is satisfied, she starts eating.  With one of the delicate golden forks, she takes small bites, slowly chewing each morsel.  I attack the plate voraciously.  The pasty is flaky and rich but surprisingly light.  The fruit is juicy and sweet, flavors I have never experienced before bursting with each bite.

I clean my plate before she’s even halfway through with her food.  None the less, she stops eating once I’ve finished.  Taking the embroidered linen napkin from her lap, she places it back on the table.  She pushes back from the table, her chair scraping against the white marble floor.  “Come with me Fallon, we have to get you imaged and back into your room.”

Imaging is not a quick snapshot like I assumed.  We are taken to a room on the third floor.  There is a wall in the middle of the room that is half glass, only interrupted by a sliding door at the end of the wall.  Underneath the glass, spanning the entire length is a control panel with a series of black screens on it.  I step into the other side of the room.  It is stark white and empty except for a machine that looks like a metal detector.  I hear Umira’s dismembered voice overhead, “Step into the imager.”

When I stand underneath it, green lights turn on and shine on me from every angle, sending strange tingles through my skin.  The lights move, scanning over every inch of my body making my skin tingle as it passes over.  Her voice floats out once again, “We have enough.  You can come back out.”

When I return from the other side, Umira shows me a black tablet.  She taps the screen and a hologram of me appears, it’s a perfect duplicate and she turns it so I can see all the angles of myself.  Umira makes a disapproving noise as she inspects the image, “Don't you ever smile?  These are for your father.  You look so uninviting.”

“He wouldn't recognize me otherwise.  Are we done here?”

“Very well.  These will have to do, I have more important things to attend to.  Guards, escort her back to her room.”

As soon as the door slides back into place, I kick off the torturous shoes and head into the en suite bathroom.  I grab a random crystal bottle of liquid and unstopper the bottle, it smells innocuous enough.  I turn the faucets on full force and scrub my face clean.  I peel off the black dress and toss it on the chair next to the dressing table, changing back into my dirty, bloody clothes.  

I spend the afternoon driving myself mad with worry.  Worrying about Izic coming to Eku.  Worrying about my message to Zefa.  Worrying about Ethan's safety.  I alternate between sitting on the bed and pacing around the room.  

A couple hours pass and I am teetering on the edge of sanity, sitting at the dressing table absently drumming my fingers, when a tray of food is brought in.  All the worrying has made me lose my appetite and I pick at the food.  Their intent is to keep me alive.  For now, at least.  

After I finish eating, I set the tray by the door.  I sit on the edge of the bed my right leg jiggling, feeling keyed up.  I unlace my boots and kick them off, standing on the bed to look out the window.  The light is fading in the woods beyond the palace walls.  Would my light soon extinguish as well?  When darkness falls, I lay in bed and concentrate on the sound of my heartbeat, hoping for sleep to come so I could see Ethan one last time.

Ethan

I am awakened from my troubled sleep by the giant Arek.  Ever silent, he waits for me to get out of bed and then motions for me to follow him.  I briefly wonder if he’s mute.  We walk back down the same long narrow hallway but then he presses his arm against a black panel I hadn’t noticed earlier.  It opens up into another corridor and this time I make sure to note all the panels in the wall.  This place is a labyrinth and I recall the aerial view of the interconnected buildings.   At least, Arek seems to know his way around.  He stops midway down the hall and presses his wrist against the panel, it lights up scanning the two slender black lines encircling his left wrist twice.  

The wall slides back and we step inside a small white room with another silver control panel on the wall.  When he presses his wrist against this panel, the wall behind us slides closed.  And then we are falling--fast--my stomach dropping and my ears popping simultaneously.  Then we slide to a smooth halt and another wall slides open into another long narrow hallway.  We must be traveling in between the domes.

One last scan of his wrist and we arrive at the final destination, a round white room that is mostly taken up by a very large round silver table with black screens embedded on its surface.  The walls are covered with dozens of similar screens, all flickering to different images of activity-- people shopping in a marketplace, children sitting at their desks in a classroom, hundreds of ships zooming past another camera.  

My eyes don’t know where to focus and I stand at the entrance trying to take everything in.  Arek moves to stand with the other silent guard behind Izic’s chair.  Izic and Zefa are bent over their screens, their eyes flitting between all the different screens on the table.  Zefa’s fingers are tapping away on one of the screens with one hand while simultaneously scrolling through another screen with his other. 

I study the screens they’re both so focused on.  There are images of a densely wooded forest on one screen, a strange white tower on another, and then green lines scrolling past too quickly for me to read on yet another.  

“What is this place?” I ask, genuinely curious.

Izic responds without looking up, “This is the Information Room.  We don’t usually let civilians, let alone non-Phynxians in here.”

Zefa pauses his tapping, “These are intelligence reports we are going over.  These are surveillance images taken with our satellites.”  He enlarges the screen with the white tower until suddenly the whole table transforms into one giant image of the tower.  Swiftly moving his fingers, the image rotates to show the different angles of the tower.  “This is the Eku royal palace.”

Izic places his hand on the table and the starts tracing along the height of the tower before pointing at a particular window, “Our spies believe Fallon is being held here.  On the seventh floor of the west tower facing the Keja Forest.”  He taps the screen twice.

The image fades into a blueprint of the massive infrastructure of the Eku royal palace.  It reminds me of the dome structure we flew into when we landed in Phynx.  The center of the structure is a huge dome that is connected to four towers each facing a different direction.  Along the whole perimeter of the palace is a massive wall.  The city sprawls from all directions except for the west tower which is closed off by the Keja Forest.  This place is a fortress.

“How certain are your guys that she is being held there?”

Zefa strokes his jaw, alone the line of his scar, “How certain can we be of anything?  The source is trustworthy.”  Izic looks pointedly at Zefa, who in turn glances up at me apologetically, “There has been no news.  All electronic communication with Eku was cut off a few hours ago.”

Izic’s expression is impassive as he makes the blueprint spin around the west tower, “But that is not the only way we can communicate.  They will not risk moving her.  I have no doubt she is safe...for now. ”

I can’t hold back my sarcasm, “Really?  How do you know she is safe?  How are you communicating with your source?  By courier pigeon?”   Izic might be Fallon’s father, but you never would have guessed by his callous demeanor toward her welfare.

Sounding apprehensive, Zefa replies, “Fallon is a
weifarere
.  She came to me when I was unconscious from the psionic blast.” 

“What is a
weifarere
?  What do you mean by she came to you?”

Izic answers, “A
weifarere
can enter another’s subconscious while they are sleeping.  Fallon can speak to others in their dreams.”  

It’s Zefa’s turn to interrupt, “I am not sure she is able to control this ability.”

My fists are clenched so tight, it feels like my knuckles are going to break through my skin, “What did she say to you?” 

He sighs, “She was more concerned for our safety than her own.”

My voice is barely a whisper, the fear ringing clear, “Are they hurting her?”  I’m not sure I can handle the answer.

An eternity passes as Zefa stares at the screen, pausing to phrase his response.  His answer is less than comforting, “Not yet.”

When I close my eyes, I can still hear her scream, the sound cutting through my soul, “How can you be sure?”

Tapping the screen twice again, Izic brings up a ghostly image of Fallon--a hologram spinning slowly above the table.  She is dressed formally and doesn’t look like her usual self, though I see the spark of defiance in her green eyes.  “They sent us this before they cut off all electronic communications.  This came long with a royal invitation for me to attend a formal state dinner tomorrow evening at the Eku palace.”

“Are you going?”

“It is a trap.  But also the perfect distraction.”

“What are we going to do to get her out of there?”

“We have a plan,” Izic says vaguely.

Suddenly Arek the giant speaks up from his post by the door, his voice is quiet but lethal,  “We will pay them back in blood.”

Fallon

I am standing in the woods beyond the palace wall.  My back pressed against the rough bark of an ancient tree, hiding from the starlight illuminating the field.  My heart is drumming in my chest, seeming to fill the quiet night with its frantic beat.  The wind is whispering through the trees, making the tall grass sway.  Nervously I scan the darkness, unsure of who or what I am waiting for.  All I know is I must remain unseen till the moment is right.

Time ceases to pass as I stand completely motionless except for my eyes, which are ever searching the night.  I dare not breathe when I hear a faint rustling, the sound approaching closer from my right side.  The rustling stops but no one has entered the light of the field.  I peer to my right, trying to locate the source of the noise but the forest is full of shadows.  I nearly jump out of my skin when a familiar voice whispers low, right next to my ear, “Surely you recognize your own father.”

I swear my heart skips a beat but then it starts thundering in my chest again, a sheen of sweat breaking out over my skin.  I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to regain my composure, as I hiss back, “Izic?  What the hell is going on?  What are you doing here?  Epir is going to kill us both.”

“Epir cannot harm us here.”

“What are you talking about?”

Izic steps into the dim light of the field and spreads his arms out.  “This is not what it seems, Fallon.  There are some things I need to explain before you can understand.  Let us do it in a more comfortable setting, shall we?”

I blink rapidly, startled by the sudden light.  My back is no longer pressed against a tree, instead I'm pressed against the wall of my living room.  I haven't seen my father in almost two years.  Seeing him in the bright light of the living room,  he has aged considerably since we last saw each other.  A silver streak is stark against his dark hair, crow's feet have crept into his green eyes, and dark circles are etched into his pale face.  His usually rigid posture is softer, shoulders slightly rounded.  He looks tired and worn down unlike the imposing figure that I was familiar with.

I am dreaming, of course.  The realization is almost reassuring.  Izic sits down on one of the gray wingback chairs, casually crossing his legs and motioning for me to come forward and sit down.  He smiles reassuringly, “I know this must be alarming for you, but I shall explain everything.  Which is something I should have done a long time ago.  Please, sit.”