Melinda Metz - The Salvation

"We're opening up the hole pretty much right under the kitchen. If the force gets too strong in the bedroom, go low. Just flatten yourself to the floor," Michael told her.

Liz nodded. "Well… good luck," she said. It seemed like she wanted to say something more, but she just turned and headed for the spiral staircase that led up to Michael's apartment.

"See you afterward, at the postshattering bash," Alex called after her. "Remember, it's formal!"

"Okay, plan review," Michael said. "I'm using one of the Stones to open up the wormhole. Then Trevor's sending in the device. When it's close enough to the home planet-but far enough from here-he detonates it."

"The remote will tell me if the Stone on my planet has been drained of power," Trevor added. "If the indicator light goes from green to red, we're in business."

"Then Trevor and I both use a Stone to shoot power through the hole. We'll blast away until there's no juice left," Michael concluded.

"And then we wait," Isabel said, her voice strong even though there were wells of fear behind her eyes.

"And then we hope," Maria added.

Hope. It was pretty much all they had.

Michael pulled his Stone from his pocket. Trevor positioned the device in one hand and the remote in the other. He felt his pocket to make sure his Stone was still there, even though he knew it was.

"Here goes," Michael announced. He held the Stone out in front of him. Immediately it began to glow with its green-purple light. The light intensified until it was impossible for Trevor to look straight at it.

The museum went totally silent. Trevor didn't think anyone was even breathing. He knew he wasn't. Then he heard it, the soft sucking sound that indicated the hole was beginning to open. He pulled some air into his aching lungs.

We're on our way, he thought. He peered up at the ceiling, blinking away the green and purple dots that looking at the Stone had put in his vision. Yeah. There was a spot that was sort of drooping, almost oozing.

The soft patch of ceiling drooped lower. And then lower. The plaster stretched until it was as thin as a sheet of plastic wrap and almost as transparent. Trevor waited until the spot was absolutely clear. Then, with his human body pumping a stream of sweat all the way down his back, he clicked on the remote and used it to guide the device into the wormhole. The device flew up through the hole in the ceiling so fast, Trevor couldn't even track it.

He turned to look at Michael. Together they began to count. "One, one thousand; two, one thousand; three, one thousand…"

When they reached twenty, it was time. Trevor hit the button on the remote that would detonate the device. Then he stared at the indicator light. I want to see red here, Trevor thought urgently. Give me some red.

Michael could feel his cheeks rippling from the force of the wormhole as the straps of the safety harness cut into his chest and stomach.

"Still green?" he shouted to Trevor. His brother was only a foot away from him, but the horrible sucking sound of the open hole made it almost impossible to hear anything else.

"Still green," Trevor yelled back.

Crap. Shouldn't it have gone to red by now? What if the whole thing was a bust? Oh, just shut the hell up, he ordered himself. He forced his head to turn toward Trevor, fighting the pull of the wormhole. His brother's eyes were intent on the remote. Michael couldn't see the indicator light, but it didn't matter. Watching Trevor was just as effective. When Michael saw relief flood Trevor's face, he knew what had happened even before Trevor let out a triumphant cry of, "Red!"

Show time. Michael pointed his Stone into the wormhole and let it rip, full strength. The purple-green light flared around him in a huge circle. It was all he could see. It was almost as if he started to become the light. His body began to feel like pure, pulsing energy-all heat and electricity-instead of flesh and bone. He wouldn't be surprised if he started to glow himself or if his veins had been converted into wires, his neurons into circuits.

"Michael, are you all right?" he heard Isabel ask. Her voice sounded like a whisper, although Michael was sure she was screaming her lungs out. "Michael, can you answer me?" she whispered again.

The name Michael sounded strange to him. Almost meaningless. How could he answer her? He was a conduit. He'd thought maybe his body was becoming filled with wires, but now he realized his whole body was one big wire. Its only function was to allow the power of the Stone to surge into the wormhole. Michael felt less alive and more alive than he ever had, all at once.

"Will we know when it happens?" Alex shout whispered.

Michael didn't attempt to answer. He didn't even know the answer. He let the energy slam through him, shoving away any impulse to resist. His legs began to twitch, then his arms, then his fingers. His eyelids fluttered. And he felt his hair stand on end. Then his heart began to beat erratically, stuttering, almost stopping, stuttering again.

Was he even still holding on to the Stone? He couldn't feel it in his hand. He couldn't feel his hand at all. But he couldn't have dropped it, or the power would have stopped pounding through him.

Michael tried to tighten his fingers around the Stone. If he let it go now, it could destroy the plan. Had his fingers moved? Had the message made its way from his brain? He had no way of knowing.

"Need help holding it," he managed to gasp out.

He was sure no one had been able to hear him, but a moment later he felt an Isabel infusion in the blast of power. It added a delicate flavor to the energy, very faint, but distinct.

"Alex, help Trevor," Isabel cried, her voice still sounding so soft.

"Got it," Alex answered.

Michael felt the power slacken slightly. The ball of purple-green light around him grew the tiniest bit less brilliant. He could feel his bones inside him again, although they felt as insubstantial as jelly.

The power of the Stone is starting to run out, he realized. And the consciousness hadn't shattered. At least he didn't think it had. They would have to be able to feel the impact of something that cataclysmic coming at them through the hole. Wouldn't they?

The purple-green light faded some more. Michael could see the hole again. They'd battened down the museum as well as they could, but one of the display cases was spinning around in midair, getting sucked into the hole. A mobile of the universe was right behind it, planets jerking wildly on their wires.

Michael reached out and grabbed Trevor's wrist. He had complete control over his own body again, although he had to strain against the pressure of the wormhole. Instantly a connection formed between him and his brother. He could feel Alex in the connection. And Maria.

Very faintly he heard the music of their connection begin, lacking something without Max and Liz. Without Adam. But still something that Michael could feel with a physical force. He pulled in a deep breath, taking in the perfume of their combined connection scents, feeling more strength return to him.

Alex threw out an image of a runner bursting through a finish line. Michael threw the image right back at him, following it up with as much energy as he could pull out of himself. Isabel zapped it out again. Then Maria. Then Trevor. Then Alex again. Then Michael. Until there was a whole marathon of runners crashing through the tape together. United. Strong. Winners.

"On three," he shouted. "One. Two. Three." They combined the power of their connection with the fading power of the Stones, and the sound of a billion voices filled the air. The voices became the air. Became the ground under Michael's feet, the wall behind his back. Those voices became the world. Michael couldn't make out any individual words. They were all in a language he didn't understand.