Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (38 page)

Matt stands on his feet. “Only a coward would do this to these people. It serves no purpose.” He gently places Yarah behind him, whispering in her ear. “Close your eyes and hold on to me.”

Jhata opens her arms. “Of course it serves a purpose. I want to see your true love and compassion in action. Drop your shield and lay down your Stone so these innocent people will be spared.”

“You’re a monster.” Matt changes the energy configuration again, making it tighter so it takes on a pale red with an almost metallic surface.

“Agreed.”

Leaving Leo lying on the ground, Jhata walks a dozen meters to the right into the middle of a crowd of dazed people milling next to the wall, looking for an escape. She raises two Stones in her hands. Massive tongues of orange plasma pour out across the gap between her and Matt, turning everything and everyone it touches into combustible material. People run about wildly, transformed into torches, until they drop to the ground like burnt corncobs.

Matt stands erect, eyes open, witnessing the carnage. The plasma flames engulf the energy membrane protecting him and Yarah, and he is forced to make constant micro-adjustments to keep it intact.

“You see,” Jhata says. “The real question is how many people are you willing to watch die while doing nothing to protect them. You may call that love. I call it cowardice.” Her eyes drop to the smoldering corpses and wailing bystanders kneeling beside them. “They’re nothing more than ants to me. It’s nothing to kill them. But you, you are different. You claim to live by a moral code imposed by someone else. Or so you say. Show me that love is more than just idle emotion. Show me what it can
do
.”

Matt’s fingers squeeze into fists. And then he forces them to relax and open.

Don’t take the bait.

He looks at Yarah, holding her Stone in trembling fingers, clinging to Matt. He tries to hide the destruction from her, but she has seen it already, her face wet with tears.

Her eyes meet his. “Can’t we do anything to help them?”

Jhata stands with her back to the wall.

The crowd moves away to the other side of the marketplace, leaving smoldering corpses scattered on the ground. The people move to the wall, desperately search for a way out of the hell erupting around them. Mothers grab their children and hold them close. Smoke floats like a shroud in the air.

Calmly walking across the blackened ground, Jhata slips into the center of the mass of people.

Matt briefly locks eyes with her before looking away.

He kneels close to Yarah. “Watch what I’m doing with my Stone.” He takes her hand, opens the small palm and lays it on his own fingers near his Stone. “Can you make a bubble like this? Close your eyes and come into my mind so you can see what I’m doing.”

Yarah closes her eyes. “I’m inside now.”

“See the energy? Can you
feel
it?” Matt glances back at Jhata.

“Yes. Like a huge flower blooming around you.”

“See how I hold it in my mind, how I can change the pattern, open and close it, higher and lower, in and out, always different, always flowing.” Matt watches as Jhata drops her arms to the side, getting into her battle stance in the middle of a crowd of women and children, none of them aware of her presence. “Get ready, Yarah. We’re going to get hit again. Watch carefully when it comes. See how I change the pattern.”

Tiny green spheres of neon light jump out of Jhata’s Stones in a steady stream. They pass cleanly through each woman and child standing in the line of fire, opening holes in arms and heads, chests and bellies, like hot knives passing through layers of wax, and finally slamming against the thin film of energy floating above Matt and Yarah.

The force of the impact throws them back, leaving deep indents in the shield that quickly fill in. It holds together under a barrage lasting half a minute, as Matt seamlessly adjusts the energy field to the changing pattern of Jhata’s attack.

Screams of terror rip the crowd apart. Villagers drop to their knees, eyes pleading to the heavens. Dust hangs heavy, mixing with smoke from the smoldering corpses.

In the chaos, Matt sees a line of people between him and Jhata writhing in agony in the dust.

An old man in a flowing robe walks to the other end of the line, only meters from Jhata, followed by a wailing woman. He brings both hands up to his neck, grasps the robe and, with a downward thrust, rips it apart. The crowd pulls away as the old man scans the air in front of his eyes, searching for something. Raising his gaze to the clouds, he cries out in agony.

He pulls a dagger from his robe, straightens his arms in front, plunges it into his chest and drops to the ground.

The old woman standing beside him buries her face in her hands and falls on top of the dead body.

“We have to stop her,” Yarah says. “Too many people dying.” Fresh tears well up in her eyes.

“Maybe I can, with your help,” Matt says. “Did you see how I worked the energy shield?”

A young boy in the crowd goes crazy and begins yelling and throwing handfuls of dust in the air.

“I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Just relax,” Matt says. “Now watch me again. Once you figure it out, we might be able to help the people.”

A crying child runs across their line of sight and falls on the corpse of a young woman just a few feet away.

Yarah purses her lips in a new show of determination. “It’s like holding fire in your mind. Jhata’s trying to poke holes in it. You have to keep the energy moving and fill in the holes. It goes wherever you want it to go.”

“Right. Now, do you think you can do it with your Stone?”

Yarah opens her eyes, looks up and nods. “I’ll try.”

A breeze stirs the heavy metallic scent of blood in the courtyard.

“Good.” Matt stands. “Now remember to keep it moving, always changing. Don’t be afraid.” He waits until she has generated her own protective energy field, then he walks a couple of steps away.

Fear flashes in Yarah’s eyes. “What if something happens to you?”

“It won’t. I promise.”

People are stacking wooden crates, trying in desperation to climb over the wall. Climbing over each other. Fathers throwing their children.

Yarah stands silently for a moment. “But what if she kills you?”

“Can you
feel
the way back to your world?”

“Yes.” Yarah closes her eyes again. “Yes, I remember the way.”

“Then leave me and jump there as soon as the path is open.”

“What about Leo?”

Matt smiles. “No more questions, little one. I won’t leave him. Now concentrate on that shield.”

He turns and walks to Jhata.

T
hump, thump, thump.

Jessica is the first to jump up, grabbing the pulse rifle and running to the front door, almost overturning the stove. She opens the door and peers out.

Without a word, Eva runs in the opposite direction to the back room and emerges with her arms full of boots, fur coats and leggings for her and Jessica.

“What’s going on?” the captain says.

Jessica runs back to the table. “Everyone get dressed and get out of here. It’s Ryzaard. He knows we’re here. Must have traced the submarine.” She slips into the leggings and coat and looks at the men lounging at the table chewing the last of the
muktuk
. “Get your clothes on and get out onto the ice. Now.”

The captain leans back in his chair. “Now wait just a minute. We ran a check of the hull to make sure there were no tracers.” He bends forward, reaching for another slice of succulent whale blubber. “It’s probably the provincial government, making the rounds, checking the outer villages. Nothing to worry about.”

“There’s no time to argue. He’s come to kill us all, just like at the freedom camp. We only have a minute, maybe two, until he’s on top of us.” Jessica turns to
Aanak
. “We have to evacuate the village. Is there an alarm or something?”

The old woman pushes herself away from the table. “You heard her. She’s the
Angekkok
now. Get out and warn the others. Take as many as you can to the caves.” She sits back in her chair, looking tired and frail.

As soon as Aanak stops talking, the men are all up, rushing to put on their furs. In less than a minute, the first of them are already dressed, making their way to the front door.

“What about you, Aanak?” Eva kneels at the side of the old woman. “You can’t stay here. Come with me. I’ll help you to the caves.” Tears well up in Eva’s eyes.

Aanak shakes her head and smiles. “I was born here, child, and I’ll die here.” She reaches a hand out to the table. “Now let me enjoy the last of the
muktuk
. Get away while you can.”

The sound of the heli-transport is closer. Water ripples in a cup on the table.

“No, Aanak,” Eva pleads with her eyes. “It’s suicide to stay. I’ve seen what they’ll do.”

“No, my dear, not suicide.” The old woman stands to her full height, barely over four feet tall. “I won’t give up without a fight. Take as many of the young as you can. Leave the old behind. It’s better that way.” She reaches her gnarled hand into the pocket of the light parka she wears.

“But—”

Jessica pulls on Eva’s coat. “We have to leave!”

The last of the men rushes past them out the door, running to the other houses in the village. People begin to gather outside, filling the air with screaming and wails.

Shouldering her pulse rifle, Jessica pulls Eva through the open door into the cold night air. A shimmering curtain of light dances above them in the sky, the stars visible through its thin veneer.

Jessica looks at Eva. “Where are the caves?”

“She’s my grandmother. My real grandmother.” Eva stares listlessly into the interior of the house, tears streaming on her cheeks. “My only living relative.”

“I can’t do this without you, Eva.” Jessica’s voice rises to a yell. “I need your help.”

Eva points in the direction they came from. “Below the rocks on the ridge.”

As she speaks, three bright lights pop up over the horizon. A deafening noise shakes the ground with a constant drumbeat. Women and children gather close to them, crying in confusion. Men stand on the fringes, some with rifles, some with steel-tipped harpoons. Dogs circle the people and bark wildly.

Pushing through the crowd, Jessica finds the captain. “Get as many as you can and run for the rocks. Use the crew to help.” She points at the approaching lights. “They have sophisticated weapons and tracking technology. Don’t bunch up. Stay in the caves.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll meet you there, if I can. Wait until morning and take the survivors back to the sub. Now get out of here.” Jessica turns to find Eva.

The captain nods and scans the crowd. “All of you. Listen. Spread out. Follow me. To the caves!” His deep voice carries well in the chaos. The villagers begin to run in his direction. He opens his arms and pushes them toward the rocks.

Jessica finds Eva standing alone. “Go with them.” Jessica points at the group moving away. “They need your help.”

The Inuit woman shakes her head. “Aanak told me to stay with you.”

“Then come on, we need to check all the houses and make sure—”

A deafening blast shakes the ground, causing Jessica and Eva to tumble to the ice. A massive fireball explodes out of the ground into the night sky above the village, a boiling sea of red-orange flames feeding on itself, expanding outward as it climbs. Debris rains on them. The charred head of a doll falls next to Jessica’s face, its eyes staring listlessly in her direction.

She looks up and sees a black crater in the middle of the village where four or five houses had stood a minute ago.

“Get down!” Eva’s hand pushes Jessica’s face into the snow.

Another explosion hits at the far end of the village. Screams of terror pierce the night air. For a few seconds, a fireball lights up the village like a miniature sun hovering a hundred feet above them.

As more debris falls, Jessica and Eva hear distant human cries. They both see an old man and woman, hands clasped, running between houses.

Three attack-helis hover in the air a hundred meters away, blinding lights focusing on the remaining houses. As the giant rotors beat the air, the ground shakes like the beating of thousands of drums.

Most of the village has been destroyed with two hits. A couple more and there won’t be anything left.

Jessica jumps to her feet and runs back in the direction of the houses still standing, searching for the old man and woman.

“No, Jessica!” Eva mouths the words, but they are drowned out by the churning maelstrom above them. She bolts upright, following Jessica.

They both catch a glimpse of the two old people, running toward them between the houses, holding out their arms and pleading for help.

This time, they hear the brief whizzing sound of the missile before the explosion.

Ten meters behind the man and woman, a house glows orange for an instant before expanding outward into a ball of red and yellow flames like a blooming rose. It pulls the man and woman up and into its core where they are lost from view. All that remains is blackened snow and falling wreckage.