Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (42 page)

Her eyes drop shut, and her body lies still on the dirt. The thin shield on her flashes white and disappears.

How could it be so easy?

Matt catches his breath in the silence of the moment and stares at what has become of Jhata. Reaching with his left hand, he grabs the front of her kimono and pulls up her limp body. Then he raises the Stone high above his head, looks at her, and brings the tip down like a dagger.

In an instant, her eyes snap open.

“Tricky little girl, isn’t she?” Jhata twists to the side. “But Yarah did what I couldn’t do. Made you hate me.”

A wave of energy bursts from her body, throwing Matt up and into the air.

Jhata jumps to her feet and charges, firing a barrage of tiny black pellets from her Stone. They explode against Matt’s blue skin.

Shockwaves of pain travel his body, ripping and tearing from the fingertips to toes. He tries to throw up a shield, but the pain is too intense and constant to give him time to think.

“You really are pathetic, thinking you can beat me.” She stands over him, spraying his body with projectiles. “Now for the kill. I’ll get Yarah later.” A black curved blade extends out of her Stone, and she springs forward to drive the blade through Matt’s heart.

But the ground beneath them shakes, causing Jhata to lose her balance and fall.

Two giant insect-like shapes crawl up out of large cracks in the dirt twenty meters behind Jhata. Half spider, half praying mantis, with the stench of rotten flesh. Red goo drips from their mouthparts.

The creatures look exactly like a nightmare out of a little girl’s dream.

But Yarah can’t be dreaming,
Matt thinks.

Jhata casts a quick glance at Matt. “You have no idea how dangerous a little girl’s mind can be.”

The insects surge forward on eight legs. The nearest one extends its arm and scoops Jhata off the ground, holding her with two massive claws that open and shut like scissors.

Before Matt can jump to his feet, the other beast is upon him, pinning his legs with the pads of its front appendages and stabbing at him with long fangs protruding from its putrid mouth. He manages to roll his upper body from side to side as the fangs slash at him.

Raising his Stone, a purple ball of energy bursts from its tip, burying itself in the abdomen of the creature. It raises its head, emitting an ear-splitting cry. Its entire body glows purple and shatters into shards of glass that fall on Matt.

I must be caught in Yarah’s imagination,
he thinks.

He stands up in time to see Jhata twisting in the claws of the other creature. She brings down a ten-meter long blade like a samurai sword into the body of the beast, slicing it cleanly in half. Red goo bursts from the open exoskeleton. The monster instantly drops dead to the ground.

She rolls away and stands up.

Not stopping, Jhata pivots and surges at Matt, the blade on her Stone morphing into a blue cylinder. Jagged lines of yellow lightning shoot out of its hollow center.

Letting his eyelids close, Matt casts a thick shield of green plasma on himself. The lightning makes contact with the plasma, sending ripples across its surface. He lashes out with his own Stone, gritting his teeth. An explosion of tiny black particles erupts from the tip like a shotgun blast.

Jhata throws up a thin red bubble. The black particles roll off its surface to the ground, where they fizzle and fade.

Both of them stand on their feet, moving in circles past each other, glaring through transparent energy fields.

“Enjoy it while you can.” Jhata’s chest moves in and out as she speaks between gulps of air, spit jumping from her lips. “As soon as we’re out of here, I’m going to kill Yarah. Then Leo. Earth is next. Everything and everyone you’ve ever loved will be gone. All because of you.”

Matt’s lips tremble with rage. “Save your threats. All your talk of power and godhood can’t help you now.” He stares at her and tries to calm his own labored breathing.

The words of the Woman come back into his mind.

Love is power.

But how can he use the power of love when he’s trying to kill her?

Dropping to his knees, he keeps his eyes on Jhata, focusing on the crystalline spider embroidered on her black kimono, trying again to imagine her as a child, small and innocent. A thin blue membrane of light clings to his body.

“You make me sick,” Jhata says.

Bending forward, a constant stream of high-energy particles pours out of her Stone at point blank range. She closes her eyes, grunting and groaning as she digs into the depths of her own body for every scrap of power she can muster. Her lips peel back, and a loud yell, a wail that comes from deep inside, bursts from her throat.

The intensity of Jhata’s attack increases, eating away at the outer layers of Matt’s shield. Images of Jhata killing and laughing form in his mind, bringing with it waves of wrath and hatred. He tries to push them back.

Her eyes float open. “Yes.” She shrieks like a woman possessed. “Hate me. Despise me.”

Matt’s shield begins to break up. A gap opens, letting in a thin thread of particles. It penetrates the blue skin armor, boring a hole through his upper chest, near the shoulder. Pain sears his body.

“Yes.” Jhata yells through a clenched jaw. “Just a little more.” Her eyes glare at Matt.

No.

Filling his lungs with air, Matt lets the breath flow out, releasing all the hatred and rage. Warmth spreads out from the wound on his shoulder.

His protective shield seals shut.

Reaching up to his shoulder, he touches the tip of his Stone against the bleeding hole. The intense pain recedes, and the flesh comes together until it is whole again.

“Love me or hate me,” Jhata says. “Either way, you’re dead.”

Matt ignores her words. This new approach fills him with strength. His energy shield pulses with multiple colors. The image of Jhata in his mind changes to a golden-haired baby girl, lying on her back, clear blue eyes laughing and looking up in wonder. The voices of a man and woman are audible in the background.

She’s so beautiful.

Hands reach and gently stroke the baby’s cheek. She giggles with delight. The hands lift the baby up close to the face of a woman. Jhata’s mother. The lips on the face move, and Matt repeats her words in his mind.

I love you.

“No!” Jhata shrieks.

“It’s true.” Matt looks up into Jhata’s face, his eyes wet and glistening. “Your mother loved you.”

The outer shell of the shield on Matt explodes outward. The shockwave penetrates the thin red bubble enveloping Jhata, lifting her in the air and throwing her across the open plain.

Matt stands on his feet.

Weightlessness overcomes him, and his body surges upward as the world inside Yarah’s mind goes out of focus and fades from view.

When it comes back into focus, he is standing in darkness, staring at Yarah and Jhata holding hands, just as they had been before he was pulled into Yarah’s mind.

Jhata slumps to the floor beside Leo.

Yarah opens her eyes. For an instant, she stands defiant, gripping her Stone, staring into Matt’s face, a snarl on her lips.

Just like Jhata.

Matt takes a step back. “This isn’t you, Yarah. Remember?” Yarah’s words run through his mind.

If I want to join Jhata when it’s over, you have to kill me and take my Stone. Don’t let me be evil.

Yarah blinks, stumbles forward, the color draining out of her face, and falls at Matt’s feet. With effort, she gazes up, eyes bloodshot and puffy. A look of infinite fatigue.

“Are you yourself?” Matt waits for an answer from Yarah, fingers still gripping his Stone.

Yarah’s head drops. “I think so.”

Matt stares at Yarah in awe, overwhelmed by the utter complexity of what she has just accomplished. Building a barrier in her mind to protect her real thoughts from Jhata. Changing her thoughts to become someone she isn’t. Inviting Jhata into her mind. Creating an escape from an impossible situation. It’s almost beyond his comprehension.

“How did you do it, Yarah?” he says.

“I don’t know how, just that I can.” She looks up into his eyes. “But Jhata will wake up soon. We have to kill her.”

A
bright flash lights up Ryzaard’s office.

He’s back from the Arctic.

When the light fades, he walks two steps to his chair and slumps.

“Did you get it?” Alexa stirs on the sofa.

The green killing machine drops from Ryzaard’s fingers and thuds to the floor.

“Six Stones,” he says.

“What about
her
?”

“Jessica?” Ryzaard leans back in his chair. “She may be dead. She may have gotten away. We missed a few of them. It doesn’t matter.”

Alexa spreads out on the sofa. “I still don’t understand why it’s necessary to kill the damn Eskimos.” A wine glass drops from her hand onto the floor and shatters.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” Ryzaard picks up his jax. “Jing-wei, please get Kalani and meet me in my office. I’d like to get an update on developments.” He lets the jax fall back to the desk, turns, and looks out at the Manhattan night.

“So what’s that all about?” Alexa says.

“Nothing much. Just a little political manipulation.” Ryzaard reaches for the Zeus statue and grips it in his hand. “We’re getting close. Very close.”

“To what?”

“The end of history. The end of suffering. The end of pain. The end of bondage.”

Alexa stands up and staggers to the desk. “OK. Same old story. I’m going to bed.” On wobbly legs, she walks to the door. It opens automatically. She walks out and down the hall.

Jing-wei and Kalani rush in.

They both remain standing as Ryzaard gazes outside. Massive neon commercials play on the side of a building with a promise of happiness through the latest styles in skin illustration and embedded jewelry. The old man stares in disgusted fascination at the frivolous depths to which modern civilization has sunk.

Jing-wei clears her throat, bringing Ryzaard out of his reverie.

He turns in his chair and points to the sofa. “Please have a seat.” The window changes to opaque black as the lights come on.

Kalani walks over and plops onto the sofa, taking pains to step over the broken glass on the floor with his bare feet. Jing-wei remains standing, her hands clasped behind her back. She begins speaking first.

“I assume you want to know about our research of the political situation in Europe and Asia.” She shoots a nervous glance at Kalani.

“Yes. Our Shinto friend, Mr. Miyazawa, has completed his sweep through China and India. He’ll be done moving through Southeast Asia in a week’s time.”

Kalani opens his eyes. “Where’s he going next?”

“Europe.” Ryzaard takes his feet off the desk and stands, still grasping the Zeus statue in his hands. “But it appears that he’s foreseen a lack of interest there. Europe is mostly dead now, when it comes to religion, and Shinto may be a hard sell. We’ll need to provide a nudge to get things moving.”

Jing-wei nods, the fingers of one hand on her chin.

“Just one question,” Kalani says. “I’ve never understood why we care about Shinto in the first place. It’s nature worship more than two thousand years old, a fading religion in a forgotten part of the world.”

Jing-wei’s eyes narrow, disgusted at Kalani’s lack of respect.

Ryzaard chuckles. “More like three thousand years, but I get your point. Always frank. I like that.” He walks past the desk and comes between Jing-wei and Kalani. “Shinto is the perfect distribution platform for the technology that is going to finally make it possible to free the human race from suffering.”

“So we need to find a way to convince Europe that it can’t live without Shinto.” Jing-wei nods.

“Exactly,” Ryzaard says. “Not just Europe. The rest of the world.”

Kalani puts his feet on the floor and sits up. “How can we do that?”

“It won’t be easy.” Jing-wei shifts on her feet. “Europe is a powder keg. On the verge of breaking up into hundreds of tiny kingdoms. Back to the Middle Ages.”

“You’re right about the politics, but I disagree with your analysis of the situation. We can accomplish our goal with a single stroke.” Ryzaard smiles. “We have the tools at our fingertips.” He looks from Jing-wei to Kalani.

“War.” Jing-wei turns and walks past Ryzaard’s desk to the window. “War has always been the most effective tool for manipulating the masses.”

“We’re going to start a war?” The whites of Kalani’s eyes engulf his pupils.

Ryzaard walks back to his chair and sits. “You said it yourself. No more secrets. We have full access to all electronic communications on the planet.” He picks up the green globe from off the floor and drops it on the desk. “We now have
six
Stones. We have the
launch codes
. We have everything we need. This should be easy.”

“So that’s our assignment, isn’t it?” Jing-wei steps away from the window. “You want us to figure out a way to spark a crises, a war, that will compel Europe to accept Shinto.”

“Yes, but not just Europe. I want the entire world to be moved to action.” Ryzaard begins to pull the six Stones from the sphere, one by one, dropping them into slots in the leather harness on his chest. “And I’m not aiming for the world to only
accept
Shinto. The world must embrace it. Hunger for it.”