David Sakmyster - The Cydonia Objective

Sorry Calderon. Sorry—

But then the icy hands of the senator’s astral form locked around his throat, interrupting the sequence and jumbling the equations.

Montross struggled, resisting the option to remove the symbiotic connection to the Tablet. His viewpoint shifted from Calderon’s wild and crazed visage, to beyond: to see Isaac with a blade point an inch from Alexander’s skull; Nina on the floor, bleeding, and Caleb…

Caleb standing there, indecisive. In his hands, something glowing intensely bright. A long triangular object that shone like the sun emerging from an eclipse.

The Spear. The Lance. You’ve got it… Now use it!

Montross was fading, couldn’t hold it any longer.

The gambit’s failed. Cydonia will survive.

He wrenched his arm free, breaking the connection. Like ripping off a Band-Aid and losing your arm in the process.

But it doesn’t mean this son of a bitch gets to see it.

Montross swung his fist as hard as he could, sitting up at the same time for leverage.

Calderon rocked backand loosened his hold. Another punch came at him like a wrecking ball. He staggered, leaned forward and caught a blur of green descending from the chair just before an uppercut launched into his midriff and lifted him three feet in the air.

He’s stronger, more adept at using this form.

Wincing with another blow, he weakly raised his arms to defend himself as his crazed adversary continued the beating.

But I’ve succeeded. Broke the connection. Rejoicing inside, he saw an opening and shoved Montross backward. And I’ve still won. He glanced at the body lying on the ground.

Time to sever the cord, Montross. Set you free to linger in limbo forever.

Turning back to his own kneeling body, he was about to re-enter it when he saw the impossible: Caleb Crowe had a glowing weapon in hand, something that burned away all thought and reason.

No! The Lance!

Calderon rushed toward his body, driven by absolute rage. He willed himself back inside…

But at the moment of contact, something passed in front of him like a breath of cold air. He tried to enter, but was violently repelled, tossed across the room, spinning and floating uncontrollably. He spun and spun and finally righted himself. Rushed back toward his body, but froze.

There in front of him, Mason Calderon stood up and stretched, grinning from ear to ear.

Caleb had no choice.

“Drop the lance!” Isaac yelled, shifting the blade around and pressing it against Alexander’s throat. “Drop it, you better, or see your boy’s blood paint the floor.”

Alexander stiffened, chin up above the cold steel point as if trying to stay afloat. “Dad, don’t listen. You can’t give it up.”

“Do it, ‘Dad’. ” Isaac sneered at him. “Prove you’re just as worthless as we’ve always believed.”

Caleb started to lower the weapon.

“There you go. Embarrassed, eh Jacob? Good thing we never saw daddy before now, righto? Got all we needed from mom, it seems.”

Alexander’s eyes flickered to Nina’s side, to Jacob, the boy standing now. Slowly. Deliberately. Nina’s arm was outstretched toward Jacob, but her hand was empty, as if she had just given him something. Then she laid her head down, eyes flickering with pain, exhaustion and blood loss overcoming her.

And then Alexander got it. What was missing…

But Jacob answered first. “Not righto, brother.” And he aimed Nina’s Beretta at his brother.

“Oh-ho!” Isaac chortled. “You’re kidding me?”

Jacob shook his head. “No. And Mom’s just showed me something.”

“You let her touch you? After what Mr. Calderon warned you about?”

“She showed me you can’t be strong without being vulnerable. And you can’t be superior if you have no compassion.”

Isaac made a face.

“A stupid trick.”

“No, I saw it. Her life, what happened as a child, what made her how she is now. And then, her feelings for our father.”

“Ridiculous.” Isaac tugged Alexander’s head back. “So after all we’ve done together, you’re dismissing our destiny? You’re taking their side?”

Jacob let out an exhausted sigh. “I was never on your side, brother.” He sighted and pulled the trigger.

Isaac tried to slash Alexander at the same time, but it was useless; the bullet caught him under the collarbone and spun him away. The cane dropped as Isaac fell onto his side, choking on the pain, unbelievable pain that washed over everything, every glorious fate he had nurtured his entire life. He slipped in his blood, staggered, then lay on his side, vision blurring.

“Just like shooting a deer,” said Jacob, who then stepped away, leaving an unobstructed view of his mother. Of Nina, lying in the same position, reaching out to him as they both slowly bled to death. She gave Jacob a look of three parts admiration and one part pity.

But then a shifting sound, and a hand came into view, a hand with a dragon seal ring on the ring finger.

Calderon.

He bent down and picked up the staff, then yelled for the guards to stop and back away, even as Caleb rushed him, lance up high.

“Dad, No!” Alexander yelled, and that stopped him, mid-swing.

Caleb froze, the spear point throbbing and pulsing in his grasp, just a few inches from Calderon’s smug face, pointing right between his eyes. His eyes… something that seemed odd. Off-putting and weirdly familiar about them.

Calderon opened his mouth, cleared his throat and was about to speak when Alexander, holding his forehead, eyes clenched tight, yelled: “The Tablet! Do it now, before—”

The machine hummed again, roaring now. Surging with a new burst of power.

“—before it fires! He’s changed the target, right at our feet now! Do it, do it, do it!”

Caleb stared from his boy, who was obviously in the midst of a vision, to the machine. Who was in there? Montross still? Someone—”

And for a brief instant he saw it too. Like a transparent page flitted over the backdrop, this one with an afterimage superimposed on it, an image of Mason Calderon seated like a god, head thrown back, mouth open, shouting out with all the power of the universe. The power that would rupture a world.

“Now,” right behind Caleb’s shoulder, whispered Calderon-who-wasn’t-Calderon.

And then, a flitting glimpse of a woman bathed in silver, just standing beside Alexander, as if her hand was on his shoulder; Lydia, here at the end when everything came down to Caleb, when all he had to do was trust.

But first, forgive and let go.

He closed his eyes. I’m sorry, one last time, I’m sorry, but no more. I must accept.

And act.

And four huge lunging steps brought him to the edge of the great chair, the machine whirling with plasma energy, trembling and shaking the foundations. He brought the Spear back, like an Olympic javelin thrower, and just as reality fluttered and Calderon appeared, roaring his protests in the other realm, Caleb thrust home the lance, slamming the point directly through the slot.

As it skewered the Emerald Tablet, a flash of light erupted and he was there, straddling both worlds. The dazzling golden spear thrust into the heart of the kaleidoscopically-shifting tablet, splitting it down the middle, through its multiple dimensions, then diagonally twice, forming a star shape.

All that knowledge, all the wisdom of millennia, the symbols, equations and mystic instructions… rending apart, shattering.

Caleb felt the wound as if he’d stabbed his own heart. It had to be done .