The Wrath of the Revenant Read online

  He and Christopher stood alone in the clearing with the slab.

  The soldiers, Desmond and all their equipment had vanished. He turned to Christopher when he caught a movement in the corner of his eye.

  He faced the slab to see it shimmer and warp. The structure itself didn't seem to move, rather what it was made of seemed to . . . invert. An image began to resolve in the structure, a figure appearing.

  "Hello, Tremain. Nice of you to finally visit me. I have the pot on for tea."

  Alice.

  Christopher could feel his insides turn to ice. His uncle, who stood to his left, visibly tensed.

  "Alice through the looking glass?" Tremain said, his voice hard. "A little dramatic, don't you think?"

  The woman smiled, her face lighting up. Christopher's breath caught in his throat.

  "Maybe. But I am glad you've come. I have a lot to show you." She motioned to them both. "Come on through."

  Tremain and Christopher shared a look.

  "Where are Desmond and the soldiers?" Christopher asked.

  "They're back where they belong. What I have to show you is for you only."

  "Why this elaborate scheme, Alice? Why . . . this?" Tremain appraised the slab. "So this is a gateway of sorts? To where?"

  Alice laughed. She was enjoying herself.

  "It's more of a doorway. I had to pique your interest. Come on now, time is of the essence."

  The two hesitated. Alice shook her head.

  "It's perfectly safe." She moved forward and held out her arm. It appeared in front of them, poking out of the slab. "See? Come on now." Tremain gulped hard and stepped forward, Christopher close behind, and reached out to touch the surface of the slab. His fingers passed right through as if there wasn't anything there. He gasped and pulled his hand back, causing Alice to laugh.

  "Tremain, I wouldn't mislead you. It's safe to pass through. Please, trust me." Her voice pleading and earnest. She stepped back to allow them through. Tremain and Christopher shared another glance, then they each took a deep breath and stepped into the slab.

  Immediately after they entered, the entire structure shifted and folded into itself. There was a flash of light and the slab vanished. The clearing was still once again as if it has never been disturbed.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Their perception shifted just a little off-center. Christopher stumbled as vertigo disoriented him for a moment, then things snapped back into place. He looked to his uncle, who didn't seem to be as affected, taking in their surroundings, his gaze sweeping over every detail. Christopher gasped as he saw where they now stood.

  They were in a well-appointed sitting room in what could only be described as a medieval castle. The walls were chiseled stone. Tapestries covered parts of the wall, but Christopher didn’t recognize any of the depicted scenes. Couches with full, soft looking cushions lined the walls. The light in the room came from not only the huge windows carved into the stone, but from sconces in the walls, whose flames gave no smoke. Christopher stood in amazement as he began to feel the warmth in the room. His uncle took a few steps forward to face Alice, who stood silently, a bemused smile on her face.

  "Ok, we're here." Tremain said. "Wherever this is."

  Alice's smile grew larger.

  "Oh, Tremain, thank you so much for coming. Would you like some tea?" She waved a hand and Christopher jumped as he caught the unmistakable scent of tea and sandwiches. He turned his head to the right and saw a table, laden with all sorts of cookies, biscuits and plates of sandwiches. His mouth began to water as he felt his stomach clench. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

  "That table was empty just a moment ago." Tremain said as he positioned himself in front of Christopher.

  Alice laughed, the sound making the room seem somehow lighter.

  "Is the food any less welcome?" She glided over to the table and spread her arms to showcase the dishes. "Please, Tremain, allow me to show you some hospitality. Your questions will all be answered . . . in time."

  Tremain walked to the table and gave an exaggerated sniff.

  "That tea does smell delicious." He glanced to Christopher. "Fancy a nibble?" Christopher nodded and raced to the table, filling a plate high with sandwiches and cookies. Alice stood a pace away from the table, smiling and biting a nail.

  The next half hour was spent in almost silence, saved for occasional grunts and exclamations from Tremain and Christopher as they partook of the delicacies provided by their host. Eventually, Tremain set down his cup, his eyes closed as he swallowed his last sip of tea.

  "Alice," he said, "that has to be the most subtle tea blend I have ever tasted." Christopher nodded, words having escaped him, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand.

  Alice, her hands clasped in front of her on the table, gave them both appraising looks.

  "I'm sure you're full of questions." Her tone was playful.

  Tremain shook his head as his eyes snapped fully open, his gaze piercing.

  "That is an understatement. What are you up to?" he asked.

  Alice shook her head and spread her arms wide.

  "There's a matter that I need you to help me with."

  Tremain frowned and looked around the room. His gaze fell on a shrouded figure, sitting in a wheelchair by a window. He wondered why he hadn't noticed before, which made him even more suspicious.

  "Let me get this straight," he said as he stood up and paced. "You by chance bump into me in the park, we strike up pleasant conversation over numerous teas, hand me your calling card which just happens to match the coordinates of a very strange anomaly, which turns out to be a doorway to . . . where is here, exactly?" He cocked an eyebrow at her. Christopher became a spectator, chewing on a roll, his full belly making him sleepy.

  "You don't give up, do you?" She shook her head, her arms crossed.

  Tremain indicated the shrouded figure.

  "A matter you need my help with, but can't just ask . . .and I almost didn't notice this one over here, which, come to think of it, was also very surprising as I usually don't miss much, let alone an entire table of sandwiches suddenly appearing." He stalked over to her, leaning in ever so slightly. "So, I will ask you again; Where is this place, what is this place and why did you bring us here?"

  "She didn't bring you, I did." The deep, baritone voice seemed to come from all directions. Christopher startled awake and stood up. Tremain turned to the shrouded figure, who began to stand.

  The shroud fell away to reveal a metallic figure. Christopher gasped, almost choking on the last mouthful of sandwich. Tremain's eyes narrowed, taking in the sight before him.

  He . . . it was about six meters tall, the body was composed of a spider-work of metal; arms, legs, torso, all a crimson color. The three fingered hands were silver. Where the head would normally be was a perfectly smooth oval of silver, no facial features whatsoever. As unnerving as that was, it became more so when the "head" swiveled to face Tremain. Alice stepped between Tremain and the figure.

  "Tremain, this is my . . . father." She said, indicating the metallic figure.

  Tremain cleared his throat, his momentary surprise forgotten.

  "He's seen better days, I would imagine." He walked over to the figure, examining it from all angles, the silver oval following his every movement. The voice again seemed to come from every point of the compass.

  "You do not fear me?"

  "I do." Christopher mouthed, hand in the air.

  Tremain paused, glancing over to Christopher, whose eyes were wide as saucers, then back up to the featureless ovular head.

  "That would, more than likely, be expected, yes." He said, continuing his visual examination. "But, as I've always maintained, fear is a response to something we don't understand." He stood, running his hand through his hair. "I choose the latter." He came full circle around the figure and paused, placing his hand on his chin and looking up at something on the ceiling, "or is it former? I never could get a hang on those. I'm a scientist, not an English major.
" He shrugged.

  "And do you understand?" Came the voice.

  Tremain's gaze shifted so he was staring hard into the ovular face.

  "Latter. Definitely the latter." He whirled around to face Alice. "And understanding is far from what I feel right now, so no, at least not yet. I need more information. Alice," he walked back to the table, where Christopher was still stunned silent, mid chew. "What happened to your father to put him in this state? Not only that, but what sort of technology exists to put a human mind into a . . . a . . ." Tremain snapped his fingers as he struggled to find the correct word, "an automaton?"

  "Tremain, there's something you should know . . ." Alice started.

  "She has no information for you. She is nothing but a construct." Interrupted the voice.

  Tremain's eyebrow raised at that. Christopher's wide eyes shifted to Alice.

  "A construct." Tremain repeated. His piercing eyes took her in, appraising her anew. "Not real?" A world of confusion and hurt was in that question, but nothing showed in his face. Alice folded her hands in front of her.

  "I didn't mislead you, Tremain."

  "Forgive me, maybe I didn't make myself clear. You are, as far as I can tell, a biological being. A construct, by its definition is non-organic, ergo, you are real."

  Laughter filled the room. The metallic figure shook with the force of his amusement.

  "You are as entertaining as she said you would be." The figure took a couple of steps closer to Tremain, making very little sound, its "hand" waving to Alice. "Your technology is not so advanced as to recognize an artificial, organic being when you see one."

  Tremain stood in silence. His voice, when he finally spoke again, was contemplative.

  "I read once that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." He strode over to Alice, looking at her with new eyes. "Magical." He looked into her face, his eyes clinical. "So our afternoon tea was only a ruse to get me to come here, was it?"

  Alice stepped back, her hands raised.

  "Please, Tremain, it's not all like that."

  Tremain's eyebrows raised again.

  "No? Please enlighten me."

  "I enjoyed our time together. I am not without emotions or feelings. I . . ."

  "Lured myself and Christopher here." Tremain finished for her. His eyes blazing. "To what end?" He whirled on the metallic figure. "I ask you. Why us? Why bring us here?"

  The figure stood silent. The oval head seemed to swivel slightly when the voice came again.

  "You alone, of all the millions of beings on this planet, intrigue me. Your mind is different than all the others I've encountered through Alice. You will be the one who helps me decide."

  "Decide what?" Tremain asked, his chest turning to ice.

  "Whether I will suffer your species to continue to exist on my planet."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Christopher watched from the table as his uncle's eyes flared just a moment, the only indication he had heard the metallic figure.

  "Sorry . . . come again?"

  The figure took two more steps towards Tremain, one raised hand pointing. This time, though, Christopher could hear a clanking sound as it moved.

  "Your species has a limited time on my world." The voice boomed. "How much time remains will be determined by you."

  Tremain didn't bother to hide his anger this time.

  "And who are you to be judge, jury, and I would presume, executioner?"

  Alice moved towards the figure, her hands held in front of her, placating.

  "Sen . . . Please . . ."

  The metallic figure waved a hand and Alice . . . dispersed. It was as if a great broom had brushed her out of existence. She was wiped away. Christopher stood and gasped. The figure stood taller.

  "I am the last of my people who once flourished on this planet. This has been and will always be our home." It took one more step towards Tremain, who stood, unflinching. "I watched as your species arrived here. You were a distraction from my boredom, but now you've spread like a virus across the land. I see a time when you cover every inch with your cities and your filth, as you did your home planet. I cannot allow that."

  Tremain stood silent, his eyes wide, the horror he was feeling written on his face. Christopher stood still, not daring to even breathe. Finally, he heard his uncle speak.

  "A virus. You equate a sentient, intelligent species as a virus."

  "Just as you would examine a bacterium in a petri dish, I have watched your species take hold and root here. I will not allow you to destroy my world."

  "So you've now said twice." Tremain's eyes narrowed as he thought, then turned and reclined in one of the plush couch seats. "You have us at a disadvantage, by design, I'm sure. You have obviously studied our history, but we know nothing of yours. What happened to your people?"

  The figure's back arched slightly, surprised at the question.

  "I sense fear in you, yet you are still curious." It took a step back, the hand stroking the bottom of the oval head as if it were a chin, the gesture totally instinctive.

  "Fear is a very human response and so is curiosity." Tremain said. "You have not always been in this . . . shell, I would imagine. Correct me if I'm wrong, but you and your species were once biological beings. Something happened to you to put you in this state we see you in now. How long have you been alone?"

  "My people . . . transcended . . . many thousands of revolutions ago. I have been alone ever since. My physical body deteriorated to an extent that I had no choice but to transfer myself to this shell."

  Christopher's mind was swirling with thoughts from the being. Its control was slipping as it conversed with Tremain. Fleeting images of spires reaching into the clouds, a people who created objects with the power of their minds, a young couple holding hands as they walked down a country path. A group of individuals, standing with their arms raised, vanishing in a flash of light which swept up towards the heavens. Christopher barely understood the context of the images, but he could feel the emotional connection the being had with them. He felt the creature's loneliness and despair. He sat back, awash in foreign emotions.

  "I have watched everything that my people had built crumble into dust. I have watched as nature itself erased our existence."

  Tremain gasped as rapid fire images of falling spires rolled through his mind. He held up a hand.

  "Please, if you would, control yourself. You're overwhelming us."

  The metallic being hesitated, then the oval head cocked to the side. It sat back in the wheel chair.

  "My apologies. I was lost in my own memories."

  Tremain rubbed his forehead. Christopher did the same, feeling a headache throbbing in the background. What did this being want with them? How could they convince him to leave humanity alone? He heard his uncle clear his throat.

  "Your people were mentally gifted, I take it." Tremain's voice was almost a whisper. He stood and walked to the wheelchair, placing a hesitant hand on what he assumed was the being's shoulder. "I felt your bitterness and solitude. I think I understand it, in part. Why take it out on my people? We've done nothing to you. In fact we had no idea you even existed." An image came to his mind, a monitor showing a huge storm that had grown to an enormous size but didn’t move with the air currents. He took a second to put the puzzle pieces together. "That bizarre storm that seems so unnatural. That's your doing." The oval head nodded slowly.

  "Yes."

  Tremain nodded, then yawned.

  "I'm suddenly quite exhausted."

  "Then I will show you to a room." Came a voice from behind them. Christopher looked up as his uncle turned around. Alice walked out from an archway. Christopher gasped.

  "But . . . you were . . ." he stammered. She smiled at him.

  "Yes, I was removed from the room." She shook her head, her curls swaying with the movement. "I've become used to Sen's tantrums. They are never comfortable" She held out her hand to them. "Come on, before you collapse."

 
; Mutely, they followed her down a corridor to a series of rooms. It was just as plush and well-appointed as the sitting room they were just in.

  "You still haven't told us where this place is." Tremain slurred as he sat heavily on one of the beds. Christopher slumped on the other bed in the room, eyeing the pillows with longing.

  "We're on the other side of the globe from your cities. In a spire in the mountains. We're well hidden from your satellites. That's why you haven't detected it at all." She giggled as she saw the look in Tremain's eyes.

  "You're reading my mind like he was." Tremain said.

  Alice shook her head.

  "No, I don't have that ability. The question was an obvious one." She stepped back out of the room. "Now sleep. I'm sure you'll have more questions when you awake."

  After Alice left, Tremain pulled out his tablet and started hitting icons as Christopher stood and gaped.

  "Uncle, why did we just leave? Aren't we going to try and convince that thing to stop his huge storm?"

  "Of course we are, but rule one is to not be predictable." Tremain folded the tablet and put it back into his pocket. "The tablet isn't receiving any signals, so we can't alert anyone to what is happening. Whatever Sen is doing to block us from detecting his castle is also blocking us from getting anything out." He lay down on one of the soft beds, testing the plushness and sighing. "When we were hit with that barrage of images, I also felt that being's curiosity. He's lonely and angry and bitter, but he is also extremely curious about us. I felt his need for some sort of companionship. He's conflicted, which is probably why we have been brought here."

  "I felt that too." Christopher said. He lay down on the other bed and stared at the ceiling. He couldn't imagine having the sort of power that could destroy another species so quickly. He thought of what would happen to his mother and Celeste. His heart beat faster as he thought of Celeste. How could they stop that thing from killing everyone? How could they stop the storm?

  It took Christopher a long time to finally drift off to sleep.