‘How’d you do that?’ Grayson asked, staring at Jarrod, transfixed.
The quantum sentient held his arms out, looking at the sleeves of his white coat, the high-security clearance card and the key to the mainframe. ‘Easy. I turned a thought into a form.’
‘Easy for you,’ Grayson said.
‘Anyone can do it. It happens all the time. You say
I want something
—a sandwich, a new car, a different life—and sooner or later, there it is. The food, the car, the life. I just do it sooner, rather than later.’
‘You’ll have to show me how some day.’
‘My pleasure.’
They punched the access codes into the elevator security panel, submitted to the DNA scan and stepped onto the platform.
‘Going down,’ Grayson yelled over the sound of sirens, marching boots and the distant ring of battle. After a lifetime of imprisonment in the complex, the long-awaited return of JARROD thrilled him. He nearly couldn’t contain his joy.
‘I gotta tell you, Jarrod. I’ve been waiting for this day.’
‘Me too.’
They found the mainframe on the bottom floor. It took up less space than it once had. Jarrod flinched when he saw a portion of his old hardware merged into the newer computer system. He wasn’t expecting that.
‘You won’t need it any more, will you?’ Grayson asked, as they paused in front of the original JARROD casing.
‘Either way, not after this.’
‘Make it quick. The worm…’
‘Believe me, I know.’ Jarrod removed the side panel. The motherboard sat empty, disconnected. No CPU. He smiled softly, closed his eyes and disappeared. He would know in a nanosecond if the access codes were valid, and if the worm sat waiting.
‘Can you hear me?’ his voice boomed from the internal sound system.
Grayson clapped his hands over his ears. ‘They heard you in Australia. Can you dial it down?’
‘Sec.’ He located the internal sound system. ‘Better?’ Jarrod asked a moment later.
‘Much. How’re the codes going?’
‘Easy. I’m in, I’ve shut it down, I’m out.’
‘What about programming the shields to land.’
‘Done.’
‘That fast?’
‘I’m quantum, remember? Where I am, time isn’t.’
Grayson scratched his head, then startled as Jarrod appeared back beside him in the form of a scientist.
‘We’ve got to run!’
They dashed to the elevator.
‘Did you catch the worm’s attention?’
‘Big-time.’
‘What’s next?’ Grayson asked, closing the elevator doors and pressing the sequence.
‘We get out before Kreshkali levels the place.’
‘Who?’
‘Just picture the queen of the underworld and you’ll be close.’
‘She’s got Richter blood?’
‘And then some.’
Rosette was pressed against the wall, her sword held high over her head, both hands gripping the hilt. Drayco crouched by her side, tail still, hindquarters bunched. She inched her shoulder towards the opening of the elevator, flashed a look and then pressed back against the wall.
Tell Scylla there are three on the left, two on the right.
Done, Maudi.
Where’s Jarrod?
There was a moment’s pause before the temple cat answered:
On his way up, with the alchemist.
Who?
Grayson.
She relaxed her shoulders, slowly letting out her breath.
Tell Scylla we’re ready.
Rosette glanced over at An’ Lawrence, who immediately looked her way. He tapped his little finger silently on the hilt of his sword—one, two, three.
On
three,
they both leapt through the open doorway and into the confined space of the elevator, screaming a war cry. Just as the last guard fell, the elevator bell opposite rang and the doors slid open.
Rosette spun around to see two scientists step out into the hall. ‘Where’s Jarrod?’ she demanded, sucking in a deep breath. She raised her sword, covering the distance in a step and slide, ready to strike.
Drop the sword, Maudi. He’s right in front of us,
Drayco roared into her mind.
See? And the other is the alchemist.
She looked again, narrowing her eyes. Suddenly she recognised Jarrod as he morphed back into his familiar Tulpa. She flicked her blade clean of blood and sheathed it.
‘You’ve been busy,’ Jarrod said, taking in the red spatters on her face and bare arms.
‘Get it done?’ An’ Lawrence asked.
‘Satellite’s down. Shields are landing. Worm’s in,’ Jarrod answered. ‘Where’s Kreshkali?’
‘She should be out by now,’ An’ Lawrence said.
‘Time?’
‘Three minutes. Move!’
As An’ Lawrence unstrapped a sword from his back for Jarrod, Rosette felt her eyes drift over to the man Drayco had called the alchemist. He was staring at her.
‘Grayson?’
He nodded without losing eye contact.
‘I’m Rosette.’ She smiled briefly, pressing her lips together.
He smiled back, his face softening. His gaze drifted from her eyes, down her arms, taking in the temple cat tattoo. ‘Impressive.’
‘It was my first.’
‘I like the way the tail entwines.’
‘Me too. Annadusa says you can tattoo in the traditional way?’ A curious smile lifted her face again.
‘Indeed I can.’
She leaned towards him and whispered, ‘I have this idea. A serpent. Two serpents, really…wrapping around my…’
‘Rosette!’ Jarrod’s voice snapped her up straight. ‘Can you talk about that later? The building’s about to blow!’ He gave her hand a tug. ‘Follow me,’ he shouted to the others.
Rosette hesitated a moment longer, reaching out to clasp Grayson’s hand. It felt warm, vibrant, the energy racing up her arm and down her spine.
‘We’ll get back to this,’ he said, lowering his voice. He gave her hand a squeeze then dropped it as he shot ahead. ‘Jarrod! This way’s faster.’
The others were close behind. When they reached the foyer, the sound of alarms was deafening amongst a sea of white coats, Lupins, uniforms and maimed bodies. Clay was fighting hand to hand with a guard while two sword students ushered a group of scientists out of the complex. New troops flooded in from the opposite side of the room, lasers flashing. A pack of Lupins came around the opposite corner and jumped into the fray.
Rosette drew her sword, hearing An’ Lawrence and Jarrod do the same. Together with the temple cats, they rushed towards the main assault. She cut down the front two guards before hearing the scream. Spinning round, she saw the contorted face of Clay as he dropped to the ground, his eyes finding hers before glazing into a fixed stare.
‘No!’ she yelled, but the guards pressed in and she had to cut her way back to Clay. By the time she reached him, Jarrod was pulling at her arm.
‘Leave him.’
‘No!’ She felt for a pulse, bending forward to listen for breath sounds. His eyes were fixed, pupils dilated. No blink reflex. She started giving him breaths of air, mouth to mouth.
‘Rosette!’ Jarrod screamed at her. ‘He’s dead!’
There’s no Clay there now, Maudi. Run, or there’ll be no us here either!
Tears welled up and choked her. She touched her finger to his lips as Jarrod dragged her away. Drayco urged her forward.
Faster! Kreshkali’s making a volcano.
‘I know,’ she said, tears streaming across her cheek, but the sound of her voice was drowned out by the roar around her.
Sucking in her guts, she ran hard, legs pumping. She felt as if she were running underwater. Jarrod continued to tug her forward; the connection to him, and Drayco’s mind, kept her going. She looked up just as Grayson turned back. His energy locked on her like a beam of light, urging her further ahead.
She felt again for her familiar.
Thank you, Drayco.
Maudi?
For saying Clay’s name.
They’d reached the hole in the complex wall, when a deafening boom shattered the night. She was thrown forward by the blast. She tucked her body, ready to hit the ground in a forward roll. The last thing she felt was a jagged weight cracking into her head and Drayco’s body thudding beside her. She groaned but couldn’t get up.
R
osette awoke to the sounds of a guitar playing softly in her mind, like small birds singing outside a glass window. She focused on the sound as it became more distinct, the picking pattern more familiar.
‘Clay?’ she whispered, pains shooting through her head as she sat up.
‘No, sweetheart,’ Jarrod said, placing a fresh compress under the back of her neck. ‘Lie still.’
The sound disappeared.
‘Where’s Clay?’
‘He died. Do you remember?’ he whispered, stroking her arms.
She shut her eyes, tears welling.
Drayco?
Here, Maudi.
She felt the touch of her familiar’s soft tail flick across her toes. He was lying curled at the end of the bed. She smiled briefly before pressing her hand against her forehead to keep it from spinning.
‘My head,’ she moaned.
‘A part of the wall blasted out as we dived through. You caught the worst of it. Lucky you’re tough.’
‘My face?’ She touched her cheeks.
‘Beautiful as ever.’
She gently wiggled her nose. ‘Ouch.’
‘It’s broken.’ He eased her hands away. ‘Let it heal.’
She focused her eyes, blinking a few times. Jarrod’s body was unscratched. ‘Tulpas don’t bruise, do they?’
‘Not for long.’
‘They can’t die either?’
‘Nothing can. It’s all energy.’
‘Energy moving in and out of form?’
‘That’s right.’
‘But you, Jarrod, you don’t really move in and out of form.’
‘Not in the same way you do.’
‘You’re immortal.’
‘We all are.’
‘But not my body. Not Clay’s body. I’ll die, like him. My consciousness will go elsewhere.’
‘It will.’
‘But your consciousness…’
‘Stays, as long as I’ve got a Tulpa to house it. It’s no different really, Rosette. It’s just that in your case, you create your Tulpa through a bloodline, through biology, over the course of linear time. I create mine outside of time, from my thoughts.’
She fingered his sleeve and nodded, running her thumb over his wrist. ‘There’s just one thing I can’t understand.’
‘What’s that, love?’
‘Why are you always so jealous of me when you know we aren’t…matched? We can’t “be together” in the traditional sense.’
He sighed. ‘I’m in a man’s body, Rosette, Tulpa or not. It gets to you, after a few hundred years. You’re mine, in an intrinsic way, and I’m yours, eternally. You’re my Janis, my Ruby, my Alma, my Tatsania, my muse and my companion all down the line to Nell and…’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Stop.’ She looked around the expansive room. ‘I get it. Where’s Kreshkali?’
Jarrod fussed with her hair, pushing strands back from her face. ‘I have some herbs brewing for you. They’ll ease the headache and…’
She pulled him down by his collar and held his face inches in front of hers. Her voice was a low growl, matched immediately by Drayco’s as he sprang up from the bed: ‘Where’s my mother?’
‘It’s all right, Rosette.’
‘Good to hear. Where is she!’
‘We aren’t sure, just yet.’
‘What?’
‘We’re looking for her.’ Jarrod tried to straighten, but her grip on his shirt kept him riveted.
‘You’re saying she hasn’t come back?’
I can search for her myself, now that you’re awake,
Drayco sent, his tail snapping back and forth.
Rosette groaned, letting Jarrod slip out of her hands.
Yes, Drayco. Please search. Please find Kreshkali.
She drifted back to sleep, welcoming the oblivion.
When she awoke again, her head was bombarded with voices. They grated against her mind.
‘You’re no better than a pig-headed cave troll, Rowan!’
‘I’m not the one that needed rescuing, as I recall.’
‘I did what I had to do. You’ve no place to judge.’
‘You cut it too close.’
‘Can’t you let this go? It’s done—ASSIST is levelled and the shields are coming down. We should have the semblance of a sunrise any moment and enough time to get to the San Fran strip and salvage those panels. What the fuck’s your problem, Sword Master?’
‘The plan was for you to be out
before
the blast, not after. Remember?’
‘Did you consider I might have to ad-lib? I ran into some contingencies.’
‘You mean your “friend”?’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘That scientist you risked everything for.’
‘You’d have me leave him there under a ton of rubble? He saved our arses.’
‘I saved our…’
‘Hey!’ Rosette shouted, keeping her eyes closed, her face alternately smiling and wincing. ‘Keep it down. Some of us are wounded.’
‘How’s the head?’ Kreshkali’s voice softened as she went to her side.
‘Feels like a pack of single-toothed demons are chewing their way through my skull.’
Kreshkali stroked her forehead and Rosette opened her eyes. ‘Hello,’ she said, smiling up at her mother.
Jarrod came with a steaming mug. ‘Drink this. It’ll knock those demons back.’
‘Will it put me to sleep again?’
‘Not this one. You hungry?’
‘A little,’ she said, taking a tentative sip. She made a sour face.
‘Drink it up. It’ll reduce the cranial oedema.’
‘Oedema?’
‘Swelling.’
Rosette looked blank.
‘Around your brain,’ Kreshkali supplied. ‘Big sips now. Good girl.’
‘You sound like Nell again.’ Rosette wrinkled her nose as she took another gulp, trying not to taste the pungent brew.
‘That’s my potion,’ Annadusa said from the table where she sat next to her son. ‘I’m a bit of a herbalist, you see.’
Rosette sucked her teeth with her tongue and
screwed up her face. ‘Thank you.’ She rubbed her temples. ‘It’s helping already, I think.’
‘Polite as well as beautiful,’ Annadusa said to Grayson, squeezing his arm.
‘I’d like to make a toast.’ An’ Lawrence lifted the shade on the east window, holding up his steaming mug. A brilliant beam of yellow light shone through the cracks of brown sky, flooding into the wide room. It brought the pillows and cushions to life, highlighting the vivid colours and textures of the fabrics. It splashed across Clay’s guitar, the polished rosewood reflecting like a mirror. Rosette’s black hair shone with red highlights and Drayco’s ebony coat revealed rust-coloured tabby stripes. Everyone’s face glowed.
An’ Lawrence cleared his throat, holding their attention. ‘To the fall of ASSIST, the rise of Earth covens, and to the heart and soul of Clay Cassarillo, from the Southern Cusca Plains—journeyman bard, swordsman, lyricist, friend and lover—may he always fare well and free.’
‘To Clay,’ Rosette murmured, tears falling down her cheeks.
I don’t see why you’re so upset, Maudi. I found her!
Drayco lay down by Rosette’s side.
She studied the feline, staring into his wide orange eyes.
Clay died. I find that sad.
He’s on another side.
What’s that, Dray?
He’s crossed over.
Over where?
What you call death, Rosette, we call change.
‘I’ve made you a bath,’ Kreshkali said. ‘Full of fresh herbs and jasmine.’
‘I can smell them from here.’
She continued gazing at Drayco until he got up, stretched and strolled to the kitchen.
That’s all you’re going to say? Death is change.
He turned his big head back towards her and blinked.
For now.
‘You’ve enough water for bathing?’ Grayson’s eyebrows went up.
‘More than enough. There’s an elaborate purification system on the bottom floor,’ Kreshkali answered. ‘We pump out one hundred thousand gallons a day now.’
‘Do you sell the water?’
‘We give it away.’
He pushed his ginger hair back from his face, his right forearm wrapped in a thick gauze bandage, blood seeping through one side. ‘That might get tricky,’ he said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Water’s been currency for centuries. What will happen when it becomes so plentiful that everyone has all they need?’
‘Simple. People will have it, appreciate it, enjoy it and not hoard it. There’ll be no need to.’
‘No more water wars?’
‘No reason for them.’
‘How do you start such an endeavour?’
‘First up, we’re making water purifiers.’
‘Those we sell.’ An’ Lawrence spoke as he joined the table. Rosette hooded her eyes, listening.
‘Exchanging, really,’ Kreshkali added. ‘It’s going to go well. You’d be amazed at how resourceful people have become, how many skills they have.’
‘It’ll go even better when we get more solar panels set up.’ Jarrod looked out the window at the haze of sunlight. ‘We’d better get to the strip and start bringing them in.’
‘Let’s do it,’ An’ Lawrence said, grabbing his coat.
‘Kali, do you think your Lupins will lend a hand?’
She closed her eyes for a moment. ‘They’re already there.’
‘I’m coming,’ Rosette said, struggling out of her bed.
Jarrod shook his head when she reached for her clothes. ‘Relax while you can, Rosette. There’s plenty for you to do when you’ve healed. Plenty for us all to do.’
‘He’s right,’ Kreshkali said. ‘Have a soak, eat, and start the healing. We’ll be back soon.’
‘But what about the worm, Jarrod? What if it’s still lurking in any old systems?’
‘I wrote a program to detect and quarantine it while I was in my original hardware.’
‘How long did that take?’
‘To write, download and install? One point five nanoseconds.’
She sighed. ‘You sure aren’t the boy next door.’
‘We won’t be long,’ he said. She watched as everyone but Grayson filed out the door. It clicked softly, leaving her feeling small in the large empty space.
‘Did you draw the short straw?’ she asked when Grayson looked her way.
Drayco chuckled in her mind as he stretched out in a brilliant patch of sunlight.
Grayson held up his bandaged arm. ‘I’m hardly much good to them until this heals.’
‘Nice try,’ she sighed. ‘I can tell they asked you to babysit me.’
He asked them if he could, Maudi.
Oh…really?
‘It’s my pleasure,’ Grayson replied.
As she eased herself into the hot tub, Grayson pulled up a chair beside her. ‘So much pure water. It’s overwhelming, and beautiful,’ he whispered.
Rosette realised he wasn’t looking at the water. ‘You’ll have to see Gaela,’ she said, ‘if you think a porcelain tub is beautiful.’ She closed her eyes and leaned her head back.
‘Gaela?’
‘The world where I was born. We’ve bathing pools the size of ASSIST there, huge caverns and gorges, mountain lakes…Maybe I can show you. We could do my tattoo there, travel around a bit.’
‘There are arroyos you can bathe in?’
‘Oh my, yes. White granite ones with crystal-clear, steaming hot water from underground thermals.’ She pressed a washing cloth into her forehead. ‘Of course, you can swim in the ocean too.’
‘I’d love to learn to swim…’
He said it so wistfully she opened her eyes. ‘Where was the sun when you were born?’
His brow creased. ‘You mean my astrological Sun sign?’
‘Do you know it?’
‘It’s banned, or used to be banned, to even record such things, but my mother did.’
‘It’d be a water element for sure.’ She rinsed jasmine blossoms from her arms.
‘You got that quick. My Sun’s in Cancer.’
‘Cancer? I don’t know that one.’
‘The sign of the Crab? Starts at the summer solstice, in the northern hemisphere. It’s ruled by the moon.’
Her face lit up. ‘Great Isis! It’s called the Cobra in Gaelean astrology, representing the power of the moon goddess, feelings, emotions, instincts, magic.’
‘That sounds right.’
‘It explains your passion for water, and the sacred arts.’
He smiled. ‘Rosette, everyone on Earth has a passion for water.’
‘But not quite like yours.’
She sank deeper into the tub, her hair rippling under the surface about her waist like a kelp garden. The tightness in her head eased.
‘Tell me more about this design you’re thinking of?’ Grayson asked after a lengthy silence. ‘Where do you envision it?’
She opened her eyes again. ‘See the curve of my leg here?’ She rolled on her side to give him a better view, water lapping the edges of the bath.
He reached towards her, tracing the line of her thigh from her buttocks to the back of her knee. ‘This line?’
She nodded.
‘I see it,’ he murmured.
Rosette closed her eyes, breathing deeper into the sensations. The buzzing sound blurred into the background of her mind as she focused on her breathing. She drew it in, long and deep, letting it out ever so slowly until her lungs were completely empty. She waited there, in that empty place, before taking in another deep draught.
‘Do you need a break?’ Grayson asked, resting his hand on her hip, taking in the details of his work. He put down the tattoo iron—a handheld machine that ran on electromagnetic coils. It drove the needles like an engraver’s tool, depositing ink into the dermis, puncturing the skin up to fifty times per second. He wiped the blood off her thigh, running a wooden blade over the outline, scraping it smooth with a clear gel.
She let her body relax completely. ‘I’m okay. Let’s keep going.’
Again the buzzing filled the space around them. She opened her eyes for a moment, connecting with his. He seemed deeply satisfied with the work. She watched him for a while, minding her breathing, before sinking back
down into her soul. That’s where she fell to as he brought the image to life. The sensations rolled through her body, one moment orgasmic, the next a searing so deep it brought new waves of endorphins that mingled pleasure with pain. In her mind she recited again the words from the Earth text Kreshkali had given her to read.
The cult of Great Isis I believe I have served down through the ages and my task today is to stand for nature against those who blaspheme Her and so wrong themselves.
‘Look at my arms,’ Grayson said, a shiver in his voice.