David Sakmyster - The Cydonia Objective

The viewpoint shudders. Flickers, and Nina’s appearance superimposes over Lydia’s.

The response floats over the howling wind. “I can’t.”

“Let go, and forgive.”

“Forgive her? Never!”

A hand raises and soft, warm fingers touch his frozen cheek. “Not just her.”

Another shudder, Nina and Lydia joining, two sets of matching green eyes boring into his mind. “Forgive…”

“… myself?”

Lydia-Nina smile. Fingertips linger on his cheek, brush his lips… Eyes shine once more as they retreat… then are lost in the swirling, screaming storm.

And the kiss is broken.

Nina pulled away, fighting a look of shock and dismay. “What was that?”

But Caleb closed the gap, not thinking, reacting only on gut emotion. Forgive, forgive. Accept what’s been there all along.

He locked his numb hands around the back of Nina’s head, dropped one to her side, and pulled her close. Before she could react, other than to say “What the f—” , he pressed his lips hard against hers.

Their eyes closed, bodies pressed tight and suddenly becoming rigid, locked in an unbreakable embrace as the visions unraveled, then coagulated and shot through them both simultaneously:

An ancient battlefield, something out of an expensive CGI movie: war machines squaring off amid hundreds of thousands of foot soldiers. Cannons firing energy particle shells of some kind, ripping up the earth, decimating entire battalions. A purple-crimson sky, roiling with smoke scattered by brutal winds. Mushroom clouds appear painted on the horizon in a grotesque caricature of Armageddon.

On one of the futuristic tank-like vehicles: a man with a jackal-headed Egyptian-like helmet roars a battle cry and raises a long-handled weapon with a familiar spear point at its tip. A lance that dazzles with its own light, as if reflecting the brilliance of an unseen star. Lightning rips from its tip, scattering the enemy soldiers ahead, as they roar forward—

—toward a huge pyramid set amidst a burning jungle.

Caleb winced, tried to pull away, but now Nina was latched on tight, her mouth open, tongue entwined with his, two snakes hungrily devouring and sharing each other’s every thought.

The stars…

And the small green and blue neighbor, just clearing the eastern rim of this lunar landscape. Cratered, desolate. Except for a structure. A ziggurat shape, bordered with massive columns and an arched entrance. The hint of emerald stairs leading up into mystery. Somber Ibis-headed statues on either side, welcoming the elusive, non-corporeal visitors.

—who move forward, reverently bowing, then ascending.

At the stairs’ apex, a near-blinding light. Then, features that resolve into enormous shelves. Stacks upon stacks of metallic-looking scrolls with oddly-familiar symbols forming titles. Shelves that stretch on and on into the darkness.

All this fades as the light explodes, pinwheeling into kaleidoscopic swirls. And then they’re back on a snowy field. The white dims, forms appear: giant beams of metal on stands, like giant fans. Turning, aiming into the sky.

Exploding light, pinwheels.

And now, a red clay surface. A desert stretching, unbroken until a large cliff, and what appear to be a series of triangular structures aligned before it. The cliff shakes, shedding boulders and the dust from millennia. The pyramids tremble, then shatter like toy clay pieces. A side of the cliff collapses, turns this way, revealing a giant EYE, cracking, splitting, tumbling a mile down into a pile of rubble.

Another explosion of light and then a single chair appears. A machine. Wires and tubes and consoles hooked to it.

And three young boys stand before it. The youngest is hesitant, but he moves forward on trembling legs as if this is his destiny.

But the other takes a weapon from behind his back. A familiar ancient spear point. Raises it above the younger one’s head—

And then, finally, the vision ripped apart.

And Caleb pulled away from Nina.

The wind and the stinging snow slapped at their faces, but still the heat between them refused to waver.

“What the hell?” Nina shouted.

“I don’t know!” Caleb looked down and saw that their hands were still together, holding each other the way kids used to at a sixth grade dance.

“A library on the Moon? Some ancient battle with the Spear?” Nina tried to shake the images from her head. “And was that Isaac, with the spear?”

Caleb nodded grimly. “He was going to kill Alexander.”

Nina’s eyes darkened. “Then let’s stop him. The hell with the subtle plan. We go in fast and hard.”

Inside the Jeep, Caleb found himself in the passenger seat, trying to warm up as Nina started the engine. He thought of something. “That’s a good plan, but we can improve our odds a bit.”

“How?”

“Still got your untraceable satellite phone?”

“Yeah, back there. Next to the half-a-billion-year-old snow globe.”

Caleb turned and looked down, where they’d secured the ancient gift from Montross, the thing that had been obscuring their location from all psychics, his sister included. He reached back and picked up the phone.

“What are you thinking?” Nina asked as she revved the engine, then tore ahead.

“Thinking we could get Temple to supply a little distraction. Some air support, or at least a fly-by to distract them while we come in fast through the back door.”

Nina grinned at him, then licked her lips as if re-tasting him. “Good idea.”

Caleb dialed, keeping his eyes on Nina. Forgive her?

She glanced at him as she sped the Jeep over the ridge and into the air before it struck ground and dug in. He turned away, phone to his ear; and in the windshield’s reflection, against the nearly impenetrable blanket of snow, he saw his own face staring back at him.

First things first.

Mount Shasta

Phoebe held on for dear life as the tram raced at top speed. Still, at the halfway point, she managed to free a hand and reach out to Orlando’s, clasping it tight. They shared a look of fear and confusion. She knew he was as blind as she was. Too much adrenaline, too much shouting, yelling and chaos. And… fear for the girl.

The Hummingbird, strapped in beside her father, clutching him tight. And Diana, on the other side, eyes wide, glancing out the windows as if expecting to observe a half-remembered face from her past somewhere in the darkness and flashing lights.

Temple yelled over the screeching metal, “Do you see anything? Any psychic intel? How close is it?”

“You mean, are we going to make it?” Phoebe asked, focusing the question.

Orlando shook his head, lost, unable to concentrate. “Can’t see a thing!”

Suddenly, something rocked the tram. Everyone jolted in their seats. Windows shattered, rocks pounded the ceiling. The mountain trembled. Aria screamed. Out the windows, the tunnel’s lights blinked off, then on, then off.

And they plunged into darkness.

Orlando tightened hisgrip on Phoebe and held onto one thought. That bald dude didn’t save me down there just so I could get flattened in this tin can on the way out. “I think we’re going to make it.”

“You think? ” Temple shouted from the front, looking out over the driver’s shoulder. “Or you know?”

Orlando shrugged. “Just a—”

“Don’t say ‘hunch’.”

“—hunch.”

Temple shook his head.