One Great Year (46 page)

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Authors: Tamara Veitch,Rene DeFazio

BOOK: One Great Year
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Three other similar flights had departed almost simultaneously from other locations. It wasn't until after final takeoff that the passengers were informed that their destination was Torres del Paine, Patagonia, Chile. The students had cheered, but many of the adults remained tentative. Zahn had arranged for comforting video footage of the luxurious accommodations and grounds to be shown during the flight. Along with happy, reassuring music pumping through their headsets, it had worked well to put the passengers at ease.

The groups arrived in waves over several days at a private airstrip in southern Chile. Armed escorts continued to guard the passengers, protecting them from an unspecified outside threat. Upon landing, the passengers were loaded onto air-conditioned buses and shuttled to their final destination.

When their turn came, Elijah sat with Eden, and Nate and Quinn sat directly behind them. Quinn stared at the back of the boy's head, knowing that inside, alive somewhere in that shell, was Helghul
and
the
thing
that had become part of him. In that child lived Helghul's memories, his intentions, and his cruelty.

“Mr. Quinn, don't you have a book?” Elijah said coolly without turning around, obviously aware of Max's eyes on him.

Eden looked up from her own book and glanced back at Quinn apologetically. She nudged Elijah with her arm.

Quinn didn't answer, but he was more uncomfortable than ever. Helghul's energy was heavy and it pressed on him, and he speculated how much Elijah actually remembered.

Out the window there was nothing but nature. Hours of bumpy travel with only vast open skies and bright peaks in the distance. They passed no cities, only one small village, and that had been hours ago. Finally the dusty ride came to a halt as the sun dropped below the deep-red horizon. In the distance, the craggy, pink-tinted mountains of Torres del Paine towered.

“In the twilight, they look like the Eagle Nebula,” Eden remarked to Elijah, pointing at the jagged peaks.

“From the Hubble telescope,” Quinn interjected from behind.

Eden smiled, looking back at him. “You know the Eagle Nebula?” she said.

Quinn was very familiar with the image—the noticeable “beak” and the black and white duality of a bald eagle. “It's my screensaver. They call it the birthplace of stars,” Quinn said. It had reminded him of his faithful golden eagle companion from centuries before when he had been Chilger.

Eden nodded, and a thick ball of loving energy gathered in her throat. Quinn was always surprising her. It was as though he could read her mind.

Nate looked out the window, annoyed that he had no idea what they were talking about.

“Smooth, but I bet your screensaver's really a picture of yourself planting a flag on some mountain somewhere,” Elijah scoffed cynically.

Quinn wasn't surprised by the boy's sudden outburst; he had been waiting for Helghul to reveal himself.

“Elijah!” Eden exclaimed. The happy lump in her throat was replaced by embarrassment, just as Elijah had intended.

Elijah didn't know what bothered him about Quinn, but he felt horribly uneasy whenever the man was nearby. Quinn waved off the slight; he understood Helghul's motivation, even if the boy did not.

The multitude of buses stopped in a line and their doors opened. Sleeping passengers woke, and casual conversations were replaced by confused chatter. The passengers were unloaded at the edge of a fire-lit field speckled with a few tan-colored, army-style tents. Even in the evening light it was obvious that this was not the sanctuary that they had been expecting, though they were greeted by four musicians playing happy music next to tables filled with fresh fruit, delicious snacks, and jugs of icy fruit punch. The dusty place looked nothing like the pictures they had been shown.

The Emissaries began to speak loudly.

“We must not be there yet. Is this a stop in between?”

“This isn't what we were shown? What is this?”

“Mama, where's the pool?”

“Where're we supposed to sleep?”

“I thought there were gardens … there's nothing here!”

“Is there even electricity?”

“There are not even enough tents.”

The multitude of voices whispered over one another while the people helped themselves to the abundant refreshments. The security forces that had accompanied the groups reassuringly ushered people toward one central tent.

Quinn was uneasy.
Why would Grey Elder lie to me?

The wind chose no direction and whipped at them from every side. Eden removed her sweater from around her hips and put it on, buttoning it closed. The other travelers donned their jackets and shawls. There were torches stuck at angles in the dry soil; their blowing flames flickered across the low scrub brush. The heat had disappeared with the sun and the night had become cold. Stars dotted the sky as the last glow of pink faded in the west.

“This way, line up here,” a guard called, competing to be heard over the Latin quartet. The assembly moved toward a plain fifteen-by-fifteen-foot canvas tent. One after another the confused visitors entered, and the line shrank quickly. Impossible. People continued to cross the threshold of the tent, but no one exited, and miraculously the small shelter did not grow full and burst at the seams. One hundred, two hundred—they all filed in, amazed by what they found inside.

Inside the mysterious tent was a large, perfectly square hole in the ground with an open trap door of thick steel. Within the hole was a steep metal stairway with fifteen steps. It was well lit and the walls were dark and earthy. It smelled of soil and moisture, and the Emissaries entered hesitantly, some needing more reassurance and encouragement from the guards.

“It's amazing down there. It's a secure underground facility with everything you could possibly want and more,” they promised. “Zahn spared no expense.”

The foursome was in the middle of the pack. Nate descended first, followed by Eden, Elijah, and then Quinn. They were anxious to see what awaited them below.
What did I get us into?
Quinn thought, anxious to speak with Zahn.

The tent was certainly more than a tent, that much had already been proved. At the bottom of the steps there was a long, smoothly cut tunnel about seven feet high, lit brightly with electric bulbs. There was a “welcome” sign running six feet in length, and the younger children were excited by the streamers and balloons along the path. The tunnel was at a decline and took the travelers deeper into the cool earth.

At the end of the corridor there was a massive copper door that shone brilliantly, reflecting the light. The guests were stunned as they passed the threshold and it opened into an enormous room. It was modern and glowing, with pale marble floors and walls and a ceiling of the same polished copper. There were so many people—not only the Crystal Children but hundreds of other Emissaries that Grey Elder had brought to Patagonia with his unlimited resources.

Quinn's head was reeling and he watched Elijah suspiciously for any sign of Helghul. The boy stood innocently at Eden's side, wondering aloud with the others. People all around remarked in astonishment and proceeded deeper into the expansive structure, pleased with what they found. It wasn't what they had expected, but it was modern and comfortable all the same.

They were all relieved when they saw Zahn appear through the door with the last of the straggling passengers. The Seducer-Producer, flanked by his massive bodyguards, strolled casually toward the waiting crowd, which was gently moved back by his security barrier. Zahn's tan linen pants and white shirt hung casual and loose. He still wore his Serengeti shades.

Quinn tried to move around the guards toward Zahn but was prevented. “I just need to talk to him,” he said in surprise, but the sentries remained silent and impregnable.

“Zahn! Over here,” Quinn called through the unyielding flesh barricade.

Zahn's eyes scanned to the left in response. “Ahhh, Quinn!” he purred, as if surprised to see him. At the flick of his perfectly manicured hand, the guards stepped aside.

Quinn looked back at them smugly as he passed. “What is this? Where are we?” he asked. They stood in front of the copper door, separated from the rest of the group by five yards and at least twenty stern-faced men. He wanted a simple, reasonable explanation. He wanted to hear that they were heading somewhere different tomorrow. He wanted to hear absolutely anything except the horrible truth that he had only just realized.

“Haven't you figured it out yet, Marcus?” Grey Elder sneered, and Quinn's stomach constricted. The intuition that he had been struggling to ignore let loose, and he felt a bitter sting as his Marcus-memory fully recognized the familiar feeling of captivity. He felt nauseated and briefly missed the sanctuary of his apartment. His Marcus-brain was feeding him information and explanations that he was loath to accept: he had been deceived. He had led them all into a trap. He had willingly walked down the stairs into his own prison.

“Helghul is
my
creature, Marcus.
I
was in the cavern the night you saw him sacrificed to the Darkness.
I
was the hooded mentor,” the Elder hissed menacingly, pausing to allow the monumental declaration to set in.

Quinn pounced—fast, but not fast enough. The veins at his neck were bulging as he strained against the thugs, who easily restrained him on either side.

“You bastard!” he snarled through gritted teeth.

The crowd became agitated as they watched in confusion. Zahn appeared composed and had not even flinched. He neared, within a breath of Quinn's face, and removed his sunglasses. His hollow blue eyes had lost their phony sparkle, and the aura that surrounded him had turned an ominous dark purple as he revealed himself.

“You killed those children? Anjolie?” Quinn accused, referring to the Crystal Child from Lyon who had been murdered. He heard Eden gasp at the accusation, and she tried to break free of the crowd, but the mercenaries barred her way.

The weight of his error was crushing him. Quinn had brought all of these children and Eden and had delivered them to the Darkness! How could they light the world now? Would the Dark Age continue because of his failure?

“What's he saying, what's happening?” Eden and others around her demanded, but Zahn continued to speak only to Quinn.

“I, like you, have lived many lives, and in each I have conspired and manipulated to arrive at this very place. I have carefully planned for this day. In this life I was born to a useless pair of simple people but, as you can see, I rose to power as I always have. Memory and money are wonderful tools. I am proof of the greatness
you
could have aspired to if you had used the power you were given,” Grey Elder said in a low voice.

Though Quinn had stopped struggling, the guards continued to dig steely fingers into his flesh. “There's nothing great about you! You're a murderer and you'll be stopped,” he said smoothly, determined to keep his emotions hidden. He wouldn't give in to any more outbursts. He didn't want to give Grey Elder the satisfaction nor add to the apprehensive energy growing behind him.

“Stopped by whom? You? A pot-smoking blogger hiding in a dumpy hovel instead of living life? When did you get so
weak
? At what point did the Darkness win and break you down so completely? You were Plato and you have fallen just like Greece, from greatness into ruin. You've had the advantage of memory and have done
nothing
with it. You were so easy to manipulate, Marcus. What a disappointment,” Grey Elder taunted, pacing back and forth in front of him.

Marcus refused to be provoked and the Elder continued: “With your and Theron's help, I've found almost every Emissary. You'd like to go back, wouldn't you? Run away with your dear Theron … shirk your responsibilities … give up on mankind just like I knew you would. She has
always
been your weakness, Marcus.”

“What do you want from us?” Quinn demanded.

Eden was afraid, not having understood the bits of the disturbing conversation she had overheard. She wondered who Theron was. Who had always been Quinn's weakness? What lifetimes? The crowd was growing more anxious, and she pulled Elijah closer to her.

“If the Emissaries are here, they can't hinder my progress. You'll be contained and I will have my way in the world.”

“The people will surprise you!” Quinn warned. “There are many good, enlightened people and they don't need the Emissaries like they used to. We've done our job. They're learning to connect with spirit and be conscious. You can't stop it.”

Zahn laughed and his guards chimed in, though they were ignorant to the meaning of the conversation. “What? Like Nate there? The good soul you told me about who tossed you aside for the slightest bruise to his ego? For jealousy?”

Nate was surprised to hear his name, and he colored, shamefaced, as the truth was spoken. The guards drew their weapons protectively as Zahn's revelations raised panic in the multitude.

“You underestimate people. There
is
unity and compassion,” Eden chimed in.

Zahn turned with a sudden jerk and indicated the unsettled crowd. “And they look to
me
!
I
am their idol, the great humanitarian, the Seducer-Producer, the great Oswald Zahn.
I
am their god. Celebrity and money is all they value. You say ‘God' and most of the world tunes out. They shut off, or they divide into their religious trenches and prepare for battle! They think God is some imaginary old being sitting on a throne in the clouds, not something inside
them
! It's too late.'

He turned back to Quinn. “You think they've come so far? Look at how broken down
you
were, and you're supposed to be one of the
chosen
ones! Do you really think the rest of them have a chance?” he snapped, flipping his hand toward Quinn in disgust.

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