The Spatial Shard
Chapter Twenty-Five: Do You Feel What I Feel?

Rajana placed the tray down on the nightstand. She took a moment to look at her arms and hands as she stroked her forearms and wrists. They were not hers, but she could feel them. Oh, just to feel again!

“How do I say thank you for my life?” she thought. “Making you breakfast doesn’t seem to even address the task.”

She stood quite still, waiting for the aroma of the food and coffee to reach his nose and register to his brain. She would be able to calculate what time he finally went to bed by noting how long the process took. She was careful not to make a sound, and in the body that was now hers, it was not an impossible goal to attain.

Hiram Seaver had talked her out of trying to get back to Five Pointes. The man was a miracle worker! But when they stole the Mark Five body and downloaded her program into it, Hiram had also been able to avail himself of the records of Optimum Horizons, especially the Security Division’s logs. There had been an energy signature that had been listed as consistent with ’5P Tech’ at the same time Imogene Schultz made a portalway. The signature had gone into the tunnel. No further evidence was noted after the timestamp. It was unlikely anything would be made of the reading… it did not hold any characteristics which would attract the attention of an analyst. One basically had to be looking for it to see it as anything other than background chatter or run-off from the portalway.

But Rajana and Hiram knew the power signature and in reading it, they knew the messenger they had built had depleted its batteries and was running on the reserves Hiram had insisted on making. It was an Earth-side trait: power reserves. It was similar to how they loved to say things like ‘one hundred and ten percent’, as if they could approximate their maximum effort, let alone something of greater value. But since they were here and not Negatron City, she had not argued the point and had helped him build it; an argument she was now glad she had lost.

But that had been days ago, before they had stolen a body for her and downloaded her mind into it, finally cutting into Solomon’s atrocity and the pain she had shouldered since being removed from her own body. It was genius, and so giving of Hiram when he had insisted on downloading her mind before leaving the premises. The Mark Five had been given security clearances that even Samantha Vey did not posses, and Hiram was quick to take steps to make sure she would not know of this from the break-in. They had found a battery pack which was worn like body armor, and a second battery which she wore like a large belt. After that, they used her speed and strength to literally get ‘on’ a plane, and she used her body to serve as a wind break for Hiram.

He had nearly frozen to death when he insisted they jump to get on another flight that went back to the States. Landing in New York, Hiram stole an electric car and then augmented the vehicle with a mini-generator he had made. They lost one percent of power for every three hours of operation. With Rajana driving, they traveled forty-two hours straight, stopping only for food and bathroom visitations, and found themselves in San Diego, California. Using his computer skills, Hiram created an identity for Rajana and she put the cost of their furnished loft apartment on her American Express Platinum Card. After that purchase, Hiram arranged for a withdrawal from an ATM, removing enough cash for them to start a gambling run in Las Vegas. According to his worst case scenario, they would have had enough money to see them through the next eighteen months. Lady Luck had been with them, and they had come away with nearly three times the expected amount.

In mere days, Hiram had taken her from living in a box to having a body and a measure of life. Rajana also knew why he had chosen this city. He expected to find Imogene, and though he was done with the Shard, he would see to it that Rajana returned to Five Pointes. His eyebrows drew tight and he stirred under the sheets.

“There you are,” she said softly.

Hiram sat up in bed and screamed, “Ne’Qua est Partis?!” Rajana quickly sat beside him and took hold of him.

“Hiram, wake up!” she said. He screamed again and his fists hammered against her back and shoulders. She hoped he was not hurting his hands against her armor. He screamed a third time while pulling at her shirt, and collapsed immediately afterward. Rajana scanned him. His EKG was stabilizing; it was his EEG that concerned her. The electrical activity in Hiram’s brain was beyond what was listed as the limits of the unassisted and untrained Earth patient. It appeared that Hiram’s exposure to Five Pointes was saving his life.

Solomon walked out into the yard and took in a deep breath, closed his eyes and let the soft breezes kiss his face and blow through his hair. The sun was bright and warm and it was just beginning to shine into his area. Something of serious note, since it was approaching Lunch Hour! But the walls were high and Solomon still appreciated his column of sunlight.

No phones, no computers, no television… he was not allowed any means of knowing where he was. He smiled, pondering how long he should let them think they had succeeded in their aims. Not too many places on the planet where water drains clockwise and temperatures hang around twenty-one degrees Celsius… in September.

“So much they still have not put together,” he thought. “I used to be a fat, sloppy, walking, talking computer virus! Of course I know about military holding facilities that are hidden in plain sight! Even the ones contracted out to special interests.

“Alabama or Georgia!” he concluded. “The Carolinas are normally colder than those two, and there aren’t enough bugs for this to be Florida. That makes the framing of the personnel simpler as well. Contracted locations use everything from ex-military, to forcibly retired law enforcement, to good ol’ boys. Those groups love to remind you that they have the power, and treat you differently when you acknowledge their authority.

“And here I thought it was going to take a great deal of time to effect an escape,” Solomon thought. “The government must be turning a deaf ear to Vey. Bad move on their part, gravy for me! Of course, if Sam knows she’s being ignored, she won’t take it well. She won’t blow her cap… that’s not her style. No, she’ll assign a team to monitor me; a team that will be outfitted to retire me if they get the order. Brand new shooters, too… thinking that I won’t be able to predict their moves if I’ve never met them. Normally a very sound assumption to make, but as long as Makeen is still her Security Chief, I know the sort of personnel he’d hire. It is a larger subset to work with, but still quite predictable.

“But before we start planning an entire masterpiece,” Solomon whispered, “let us acquaint ourselves with the tools we have available. No sense planning a painting if all I have to work with is clay.” Solomon turned until he knew he was facing the glass door he had come through to reach the walled-in courtyard. He lowered his head and quickly opened his eyes.

“My, they sure do grow them small ’round these parts!” he thought, looking at the guard who stood no less than two meters in height. His pale skin jumped when Solomon’s gaze met his sky blue eyes. Solomon smiled and the guard quickly turned away, giving the younger Seaver brother a view of the guard’s frame. “A fan of the fork and the full plate as well. Very nice!

“No jewelry worn on the outside,” Solomon thought as he applied his ability to his eyes, shifting his vision. When he attained x-rays, he could see a single necklace with a small crucifix. “Ah, a man of faith… perfect!” Continuing his scan, Solomon found a wedding band in the front shirt pocket; a smaller pocket which had been sewn inside of it and made so that it could fasten closed, securing the contents within. Solomon then looked at the left hand of the guard and noticed there was no worn band imprint on the ring finger. “And a newlywed! Someone is trying to tell me something. Very well, puppet going by the name of Thayer,” Solomon thought, looking at the large man’s name plate. “... prepare yourself to dance!”

Solomon’s smile was wiped from his face as his body shuddered. An arc of electricity passed over his body, but his restraints were unaffected by the energy. Two spots on his prison uniform turned brown as it began to burn.

“What is this?!” Solomon said in wonder, quickly regaining control of his current; the yield of his pursuits to master his power. His first combative engagement with Rajana had been brief, and he had been made to look like a child. His defeat had given birth to the creation of the Crown and his hunger to control his power. The force behind this new attack was stronger than anything Rajana had ever hit him with, but it was a very simple task to allow the power to pass through his body and into the ground.

The source of the event was what drew Solomon’s attention as he looked up. He could not see it, but he could feel it. Something passed overhead, and whatever it was… it was sentient and incredibly powerful! While he looked up, he could feel it looking down on him.

“Close, but no Kewpie-doll, eh?” Solomon whispered as he started to chuckle. It was not looking for him so much as it was looking for what he had at one time possessed; a thing that had left an impression on Solomon. The sentience could feel that impression, but knew that it was an after-effect, not the item itself.

“Ne’Qua est Partis indeed!” he laughed. “Oh, for once, I am glad not to have the Shard.” Solomon lowered his head and prepared himself. He had heard the rattling of the keys and the opening of the door. “Here comes my new beau, Thayer!”

“… and it would appear with that matter covered, we are done here,” the Colonel said as he closed his folder clearly marked ‘Classified’. “I can’t thank you enough, Ms. Vey.”

“Oh, please try!” Samantha smiled as she stood up. Makeen pulled back her chair and she walked over to the Colonel to shake his hand. “I am sure your database and my personnel files could find a way to accurately measure your gratitude for my cooperation.” She laughed, giving the Colonel a way to laugh his way clear of being intimidated any further. They always sent a Colonel when a General did not want to eat a healthy serving of humble pie.

“Ms. Vey,” he chuckled, taking her hand. “No one told me you were such a handful!”

“Seeing is believing, Colonel,” Vey said quickly. “Thank you for your time. Now I will let you and your assistants get back to defending our country and its place in the world.” The Colonel and his entourage quickly took their leave and Makeen followed behind Vey as they walked out through another door.

“I was not expecting that,” Makeen said as they headed down the corridor.

“You would think after all this time they would give me just a little more respect,” Vey said bitterly.

“One would think you would prefer this methodology, Mistress,” Makeen said. “As long as they underestimate you-”

“I am always on the outside looking in,” Vey said quickly. “It gets a little annoying to always have to use extra special eyes to see what they’re trying to hide. In this case, if they back off of me, they assume I’ll back off from them. That way the topic of Solomon Seaver doesn’t come up and they don’t have to share their findings.”

“But we already know they won’t get anything out of Solomon,” Makeen said.

“Unless it’s to his advantage to talk,” Samantha pointed out as she turned the corner. The elevator was already waiting for her. “Just because you and I couldn’t think of a working scenario doesn’t mean he won’t.” Makeen cleared his throat but said nothing. “But we have bigger fish to fry, don’t we?”

“Indeed, Mistress,” Makeen answered.

They entered the elevator and exited on the floor where Samantha’s office was. She needed to make another very important conference call and she invited Makeen to join her, which told him it had little to do with business operations. They entered her office and turned to the wall where her world map hung. Left of the map was the storage section for the Valkyrie. The map lifted up into the ceiling of the room and they walked into a large circular chamber. The wall section lowered behind them and a section of the wall arced over to close off the chamber. A small podium came up through the floor and as it rose to chest height, equipment in the room activated. Monitors came on, reading the power being used as well as the condition of the signal that was supposed to reach from the Earth dimension and find its way to the personal chambers of Kasavra Pel’Tierre. Atop the podium was a small glass box which held a fragment of a metal which supposedly could naturally hold the energy necessary to make contact with Five Pointes. It was a dark copper-like metal that turned white when electricity was passed through it.

“Two chairs,” Samantha commanded and two tall, high-back stools came up out of the floor. Makeen helped Samantha into hers before he sat in his. “Establish link,” Samantha said and the white metal emitted a beam of energy which formed the communication window. “This is going to be painful,” Samantha whispered.

“Mistress,” Makeen quickly whispered, “… when one such as you makes a claim, oft times the universe has no choice but to follow your commands.”

“That was sweet, Makeen,” Samantha said as a soft smile formed on her face. As the picture became clearer, Samantha could see that Kasavra was not in her seat. She checked her watch; she and Makeen were indeed two minutes early, but the Countess Pel’Tierre had always been punctual in the past.

Suddenly, the picture became very blurry as the devices in the room signaled the window was being moved. Samantha quickly reached for a keypad on the arm of her chair and her soft smile grew to an accomplished grin as she keyed in a command.

“It seems I was right, Makeen,” Samantha said softly, “… but apparently it isn’t going to be painful for me.”

“Mistress?” Makeen inquired, unsure what the command sequence had activated. There were only a few things that Vey did of which Makeen had no prior knowledge. This room was one of them, and he could not have been more impressed with the woman he had chosen to follow until life was no longer in his body.

“Good things come to those who wait, my dearest friend,” Samantha answered.

“From all accounts, Mr. Shamir is your only friend, Ms. Vey,” a voice called out to them through the window. The picture was not yet clear, and Samantha stole a look at her equipment. Her smile grew brighter as she sat back in her chair.

Zanison favored his father more than his late mother, though resembling either parent would have guaranteed for him a striking appearance. His long, wavy black hair fell over his shoulders and framed his slender, mocha-skinned face. His piercing brown eyes shone with an assumption of entitlement which disgusted Samantha most of the time; this occasion it delighted the woman as she let her head tilt to the side slightly.

“Is that how we begin our conversations now?” Samantha asked as she laced her fingers and placed both hands in her lap. She would have crossed her legs and wiped that assured smile off of his face but, as Miguel had said, her head-turners were still defunct.

“The conversation begins in whatever fashion I so choose!” Zanison retorted. “You forget your place, woman!”

“Zanison,” a female voice called to the young man and he quickly turned, revealing he was not in his chambers, but some sort of medical complex. Kasavra lay on a table as Med-Techs attended to her wounds.

“Countess!” Samantha said as she stood up, wincing slightly.

“Dare I ask if the dark-skinned Earth girl is as responsible for your wounds as she is responsible for most of mine?” the Countess inquired.

“Sharon Thaxton,” Makeen said, giving a name to the pain. “We have had some dealings with her as well.”

“Samantha, I did not know that force fields were general issue on your side of the Nexus.”

“Body armor,” Vey explained. “The girl takes after her father, a very highly trained special-forces soldier. Countess, we have had our differences in the past, and I can only say that I am grateful that you would take this meeting.”

“Please, Vey, spare my ears and your gag reflexes,” Kasavra said, her body jumping as one of the Med-Tech probes touched a very sensitive section of her shoulder wound. “We have a common enemy and a common objective. We both seek the Shard, and it has become a living entity; a well-protected living entity.”

“If I may,” Makeen said as he stood up. Samantha nodded and Kasavra waved her allowance. “The child is simply that, a child. Gifted and very well-trained, but still a child. We have all made the folly of assuming that she is incapable and-” Makeen jumped as Vey grabbed his forearm as she screamed.

“Mistress!” Makeen said, quickly spinning Vey so he could hold her from behind. But he could still see her eyes fade, replaced by a pink-purplish glow as her body convulsed.

“Ne’Qua est Partis?!” Vey shouted as she reached out for the walls.

“What do you know of this?” Makeen cried into the window, but it was already fading.

“The language is from Old Earth,” Zanison reported as he deactivated his wrist-computer. “It is a form of a language called Latin. Essentially, Vey was asking where the Shard is.”

“No, she was not,” Kasavra replied as she laid back on the Med Table. “But something definitely was, and it was using Samantha Vey to get the message out.

“Did you get a reading on the energy wave?” Kasavra asked.

“Of course,” Zanison answered, looking as if the question was beneath him.

“My apologies, young Master,” Kasavra quickly replied, making sure his anger would have no reason to be focused on her. “It would seem that a boon has been granted to us!”

“In what way?” Zanison asked.

“Scan Earth to see if there were any other events within the past few minutes,” she directed. “The body signature of Solomon Seaver is in the database.”

“And apparently he is on Earth now,” Zanison said as he completed his scan. “Fort McClellan is the name of the installation. It is in the city of Anniston, Alabama and serves as a headquarters for the United States Army Military Police.”

“Then we can presume that he is not an invited guest,” Kasavra calculated. “Now scan Five Pointes, tell me if you find any events on the fringes of Undertown.”

Again Zanison made a very quick scan and he looked surprised to find he actually had a reading. Two, to be exact, and they were relatively close to one another. “Here now, what are you hitting at?”

“I do not yet know, young Master,” Kasavra answered. “But I know it has something to do with the Shard!

“Place me in the Regenerator!” Kasavra commanded. “My body must be healed quickly.” The Med-Tech Robots did as they were told and quickly lowered the Countess’ body into the Re-Gen that was just under the working table. As soon as she was sedated, Zanison entered in his override code and then paused the healing process.

“What is the estimated time until the Countess is fully restored?” he asked.

“Three minutes,” the Med-Tech replied.

“Oh no,” Zanison muttered as he entered in new commands. He read the data the machine reported and found himself surprised yet again. Only this event struck closer to home. “The Countess is… with child?!”

“Affirmative,” the Med-Tech responded.

“Then we must be very sure that the baby has not been injured in any way. I can see you have checked for damage to the forming fetus. But have you inspected the thing for any cellular damage? After all, the Countess was involved in blaster fire and a folding force field. The electromagnetic fields alone could have destructive effects on a child. Run a full diagnostic on the fetus and the mother. Time?”

“One hour, thirty-seven minutes for a full diagnostic on the cellular level.”

“Good,” Zanison said as he turned to leave the chamber. “Be sure to run a level five diagnostic on yourselves before engaging in the endeavor.” The Med-Techs powered down as diagnostic drones rolled out of their compartments along the wall.

Zanison closed and secured the door as he walked away. He collected the two Et-Techs who were waiting for their Mistress and advised them of the orders the Countess had asked her stepson to deliver. The Et-Techs had no recourse other than to take him at his word, and they went about the tasks they were given as Zanison continued to the hangar. He had the coordinates for the two events on this side of the Nexus. This Shard-related matter called for immediate investigation and the Pel’Tierre name could not be made to wait for the Countess to secure the fortune that fate had given them.

“You are a very good brother,” Milania said with a bright smile.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with those two,” Gordon replied. “But maybe this will put a little spark in them. And thanks for everything you did,” he smiled.

“No problemo, amigo,” she said as she stood and watched Gordon slave over his project. In her eyes, it had been beautiful fifteen minutes ago, but she could not argue any of the additions or changes he had made since that point. It seemed everything he did just made it look and feel better.

“Everyone’s been so busy,” Gordon explained. “Rannis kept that Countess woman and her friends for so long while he stripped them all of their weapons and gadgets.”

“But they attacked Rannis and Wilma for no reason,” Milania said.

“They had a reason,” Gordon clarified, “just not a legal one.

“Then there’s Javier and CJ, drooling over themselves and itching to get into Dreamchaser and just go anywhere for any reason. I’m surprised you’re not with them right now.”

“Undertown’s not going anywhere,” she replied. “There’s time for running around later. Besides, they are boys, and I am a little sister. Javier acts different when I am around him.”

“Tell me about it!” Gordon exclaimed. “Feels like I am going to choke on the security blanket they keep wrapping around me.” Milania chuckled as Gordon stepped back from the work table; his eyes were almost as bright as the lights. “But I think we’re ready.”

“D-Do you want some help with that?” she stammered as she asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Gordon asked quickly. “You’re in on this thing now! So get over there and lift that side.” Milania nearly jumped for joy as she did as she was told.

The two of them walked slowly. Milania’s work was unquestionably good and the affectations Gordon had added were spectacular, but they were not necessarily stable. He had seen this very thing on television too many times and did not want to add to the disasters running through his memory. Gordon took in a deep breath and just approached it like he approached surfing. He soon concluded that the more he worried about wiping out, the more likely he would indeed fail.

“Hey guys!” Gordon called out as he and Milania rounded the corner to the main work area. He expected everyone to still be at the table, polishing off the last of the dinner Wilma had prepared. Martial Arts was clearly not her best applied skill, and meals had become something people wanted to attend. It was good, as everyone was running out of excuses to avoid meals prepared by Rannis. “I think we need to handle one thing before we get to Edge lessons and what not.”

It was as if Milania and Gordon were of the same mind as they both stopped and their hands fell to their sides. The triple layer cake fell to the ground and the letters that spelled out “Genie’s 17th” peppered the ground, along with the miniature balloons, clown faces and horses Gordon had asked Wayne to sculpt. Gordon had used them as prototypes and had Luatha fabricate copies. It was his first time dealing with Rannis’ semi-sentient program called Luatha, and he had rather enjoyed her take on humor, but especially her resourcefulness as she found a way to change the poses of the sculptures.

“Happy Birthday, Genie?” Gordon said softly as he looked up at his sister, floating above the ground, surrounded by a sphere of energy that matched the glow of light coming from her eyes. He looked to Wilma, his source of explanations and a tenderness that always calmed him. But she was desperately holding on to Rannis, whose eyes were blank, his face holding a deathly pale glow to it. He appeared to be removed from the moment while Imogene looked like she was too deep into the experience to feel joy or pain.

“Ky’Ego sum Partis!” she cried as the pink-purplish light quickly turned white. Her voice was not alone, but a chorus of voices, male and female alike, old and young, human and alien. They all came out of her mouth. Imogene and Nollie were at the center of it all. They were linked and through Imogene’s insistence, Nollie was at her side. “I am here! I am the Shard!” The white light flashed bright enough to blind everyone.

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