Authors: David Sakmyster
Tags: #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban
Chapter 6
Avery Solomon, the head of Solstice Synergistic, Inc., its CEO and founder, ran a company with branch offices in sixteen countries, and with twin headquarters in Seattle and London—both of which Solomon called home. Dual-citizenship, two mansions in each location, and a devoted staff, kept purposely low, composed of only his most trusted personnel, personally chosen.
He was just a shade under fifty, but his fiery red hair coupled with his tanned complexion and satin look of one twenty years younger led to a certain aura of confidence and charm that made his face a natural magnet for the covers of at least four national magazines.
Time
and
Forbes
sought him out as much for his stance on global warming—radical even by Al Gore’s standards—as for his methods of combating it: namely through swift and penalizing legal injunctions slammed onto offending companies. The bigger the better. Solomon feared no one. He speared industry and politicians alike, hitting local governments and company executives, making his assaults fearsomely personal, attacking individual lifestyles and credibility, even prying into the lives of spouses and children. Solomon reserved a special mean streak for rogue scientists that dared speak out against the prevailing wisdom: that it was man and his actions alone that were harming the environment.
Four years ago he founded Solstice, solidifying a small private venture he had begun years earlier with unknown backers, rumored to be politicians, Hollywood players and others with very, very deep pockets.
Solomon was a man used to success. To a degree of control other men only dreamed about. And he was rarely denied.
“Mr. Solomon?” the driver called over the intercom.
“What is it?” Solomon groaned. He hated being interrupted during his meditations. He had much to think about, a multitude of plans tossed in the air and expertly kept in motion by a consummate juggler. But he had kept his head at all times. The little things were the ones that broke the performer’s concentration and could threaten the whole show. It was the minor details that needed the most focus.
Like the comatose girl in the trunk.
The driver’s voice filled the limo. “The airport, sir. They’re postponing all outgoing flights to Seattle for the rest of the night. Something to do with fog and poor visibility. We can reroute and land in Spokane, then drive—”
“No. We can’t afford the delay. Continue to the airport. We’ll leave as planned.” He smirked at Gabriel, sitting across from him, still wet from the encounter in Mason’s back lawn. Shelby’s appearance … her arrival, coming out to greet them like a possessed sleepwalker, was unexpected but not out of the realm of possibility. Solomon should have anticipated something like this, after all. And he had at least had the foresight to come along as well. Otherwise things might have gone very wrong very fast.
Despite the situation, his sister in the back trunk, Gabriel still smiled confidently.
Ever eager to please. So malleable, this one.
When Solomon had plucked Gabriel Grier from jail, the young man had pledged his life—not just for his gratitude at his release—but for the chance to strike back for the planet, to drive a stake into the hearts of those who were bleeding the earth dry.
The intercom buzzed. Their driver was relatively new, competent enough for what he did, but that was as far as he went. “But, Mr. Solomon, even though we have a private plane, we still have to—”
“Go to the airport,” Solomon snapped. “We’ll be cleared to take off by the time we arrive.” He pulled out a slim cell phone, then thought for a moment and tossed it to Gabriel. “You’re ready, you give the order. Call brothers Nexus and Remulus in Seattle. They’ll know what to do.”
Gabriel nodded and dialed the phone as Solomon closed his eyes and resumed his introspection. It was a short drive, and an even shorter flight, and he needed every minute to think, to create the living vision of the green future he would cause to grow and spread upon the earth.
The merest thought of it all gave him shivers of anticipation.
Soon
.
But first, there were little details to attend to, minor cogs to the wheel, small but by no means unnecessary, without which the whole enterprise might just crash to an ignoble conclusion.
He needed Mason Grier.
Chapter 7
“Call the police,” Lauren insisted, wheeling into the kitchen.
Mason was still holding the card in his hand. The police. He knew how this worked; he had seen enough movies. Call the police, and chances were Shelby would never be seen again. No. He spun the card around again. By now he had already burned the phone number into his brain, seared it in angry red strokes across the landscape of his mind, written in fury.
“Gabriel,” he whispered. “What have you done?”
Lauren wheeled in close, clutching Mason’s arm, the one holding the phone. “Don’t rush to conclusions. He might be in trouble, just as she is.”
“He was here, goddamnit. I saw him.”
“And you said you saw someone else?”
“Yeah, someone … I don’t know. He was just there for a second, then gone. Red hair, and another one of those weird canes.”
“Call,” Lauren said, her nails digging into the flesh on his arms. “The police or that number, I don’t care, but pick one. This not knowing is killing me.”
Mason held up the phone and dialed. Put it to his ear, looking into his wife’s eyes, seeing all of his fear, his anger, his powerlessness reflected there.
“Mr. Grier?” a voice, smooth as satin.
Through gritted teeth: “Where’s my daughter?”
“Safe. Come in and we’ll talk about her future. And yours.”
“Where?”
“You have the address on the card. I’d advise you to come with all haste. So much to do, you understand. And so little time.”
“I want to talk to her, now.”
“Sorry, she’s indisposed at the moment, but comfortable. I promise you.”
“Then let me talk to my son.”
“That wouldn’t be best right now. You’ll have plenty of time to play catch up tomorrow.”
“What if I play catch up with the police first? Or show up with a gun and put a bullet through your fucking skull?” Mason’s hand clenched the phone so hard he heard the plastic crack.
“Last I checked, a twenty-year-old had to be missing at least twenty-four hours before they’ll consider it a missing person’s case, and since I know you’re not the murdering kind …”
“Damn you, you don’t know what I’m like when someone screws with my family!”
“Be careful with your curses, Mason. Words are weapons.”
“Then listen carefully, asshole. I’ll kill you if …”
“If I’ve harmed a hair on her head, yes I know. Clichés. We’re not in a tired Hollywood thriller here, Mason. Just trust me, show up tomorrow. Bring a gun if you wish, but you won’t need it.”
Mason lowered his head; he was certain his wife could hear some of it, at least, but what she couldn’t hear she could read by the look on his face.
“Why me?” he said at last.
“You’ll find out.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Book yourself an early flight and we’ll see you at nine, Mason, when I will show you the new world.”
Chapter 8
Mason stood outside the towering entranceway, finding himself in the shadow of the monolithic centerpiece of Solstice headquarters. The sun had just cleared the mountains, only to be blocked by the immensity of this black slab of concrete and opaque glass. Feeling awestruck, like one of the astronauts before the black obelisk in
2001: A Space Odyssey
, he shook off the certainty that he would be radically altered by what happened next. He moved forward, opened the door, and headed inside.
Flanking the entrance were what he initially thought were two replicas of great sequoias; but on further inspection he realized that the archway’s architecture had been carved directly into nature, molded to fit the still thriving, pillar-like trees. Far above, Mason squinted at the painful expanse of bright blue sky stretching past the tower’s edge, and he noted the swaying branches, the shielding leaves creating a dense canopy around the upper levels, providing a living roof for the penthouse balcony.
He yanked open the main door, expecting to be met immediately by armed guards to secure him and drag him to whoever was in charge, and again he wished he had brought some backup, or had the police shadow him here. But as soon as he set foot inside the marble-floored interior, everything changed.
He saw the birds first. Doves maybe, white wings fluttering in circles overhead, spiraling higher and higher up the hollow center of the building. Dazzling light streamed in from the sun, scattered by the rectangular panes and shimmering down like lances, spearing through the trees and sparkling off the clear stream running through the ground floor. An arched, cobbled bridge spanned one section, leading workers to a quiet grove surrounded by eight standing stones, like a miniature Stonehenge. Inside the circle were several tables that appeared to be hewn from the trunks of great old redwoods, and all around the stones were flowering vines, the same lush green vines that covered entire sections of the walls, the fences and the bubbling fountains. Butterflies hovered in colorful groups, and a trio of dragonflies sped toward Mason as if to greet him.
In the middle of the immense chamber stood a series of glass tubes. Elevator shafts, Mason realized, carrying employees and visitors up to some unseen height—and down perhaps, into the subterranean depths with the promise of just as much wonder below as above.
Still standing there gaping, staggered by the sheer unexpectedness of the natural setting, Mason didn’t hear his voice being called until his daughter was almost right in front of him.
“Daddy?”
He blinked, looked down and there she was, alone, grinning, and reaching for him in a huge hug. “Daddy, I—”
He snatched her up, held her tight, nearly squeezing the breath out of her lungs. Kissed her face, her hair, then froze, seeing movement intended for his attention. There by the stones, emerging from the shadows: Gabriel. Arms folded, a content smile on his face.
Fury boiled in Mason. He set Shelby down and started for his son.
“Daddy, wait.”
He turned, started to sign, his fingers moving too fast he knew, jumbling the angry words. But then she held them, fingers clenching his own.
“Daddy. I don’t … need that … anymore.” She said it so clear, enunciating perfectly without slurring, as if …
His eyes went wide, as wide as her smile.
“Daddy, I can
hear
.”
O O O
He spoke, hand over his mouth. “How is this possible?”
Shelby grinned so hard tears formed in the corner of her eyes. “I woke up here, in this beautiful place, and Gabriel was there and … oh Daddy, it worked! Just hearing my voice, and speaking again, has taken hours to get it right, but whatever they did …”
“What? What did they do?” Mason trembled, glancing from his daughter to his son, trying to make any sense of this turn of events. A minute ago he had been ready to tear this place apart, to single-handedly strangle anyone who got in his way of rescuing Shelby, but now it seemed he may have misjudged everything. “You were taken last night, kidnapped.…”
Shelby shook her head. “No, I … don’t remember exactly. Just a dream, running out into the thunderstorm, feeling out of my body somehow, and Gabriel was there and we were fighting like when we were kids, just playing really. Pretend stuff, and then I must have fallen asleep again. I woke up here. They had given me some kind of tea, and then I noticed a paste in my ears, something clumpy and wet and really smelly. So foul I almost gagged. And then I heard it—a ringing, then a throbbing, and then the paste crumbled and fell off, and this man with red hair and deep green eyes said something, and at first I thought he was some kind of priest or healer, but then he gave me a hug and walked away. And Daddy,” she smiled, “I could
hear
his footsteps in the earth. And the buzzing I thought was from my head was coming from honey bees, and I heard chirping and the trickling stream, and then Gabriel’s voice!”
She smiled at her brother as he approached, and she held out a hand to him. “It was just about the most beautiful thing I’d ever heard, next to your own voice, of course, Daddy. It’s just like I remembered when I was a child. So amazing to hear it again, finally.”
“Shelby …”
“Dad.” Gabriel came closer, put one hand on Shelby’s shoulder while resting on his cane with the other. He wore loose-fitting beige khakis and a sports coat over a black t-shirt, and his head was shaved even closer than earlier. His thin lips spread into a smile like the carved grin of a totem-pole animal. “Sorry to scare you like that, but it was the only way.”
“Scare me? Jesus Christ, son. I almost had the FBI down here to shoot you all on sight.”
Gabriel just shook his head. “Like I said, it was the only way to try out this cure.”
“What was it?” Shelby asked.
“Something,” said Gabriel, “our father wouldn’t have allowed.”
“Why do you say that?” Mason felt his anger boiling. “If you …” he glanced around. “If this place, your company has this kind of medical capacity …”
“We don’t, Dad. Not exactly. As I said, we’re into environmental protection, law and regulation, but we also have an extensive R&D lab, where we invest heavily in developing natural cures from around the world, especially from endangered locations where we feel remote tribes might lose their ancient knowledge to pollution and extinction. We step in quickly to capture their secrets and preserve that wisdom. Including any plants, herbs and techniques that might otherwise have been eradicated without consideration.”
“You’re saying this was a tribal recipe from some Amazon rainforest?”
“Guatemala, actually,” Gabriel said. “We heard about it years ago and spent months and millions of dollars testing it in our facilities here and in the field. All under the radar of the restrictive FDA. I hope you’ll agree it’s worth it.”
“My God, Gabriel. What if there are side effects?”
“We tested it, thoroughly. Like I said, we were confident.”
“But why not just offer the cure up to the medical community? Let them document it, test it and verify the results? And pay you for it?”
Gabriel’s expression darkened. “Let one of the vile pharmaceutical corporations get their hands on it, claim all the credit and then march down and ravage the jungles and the people for the cure? No way.”
“But, there’s so much potential.…” He stared at Shelby, still marveling that she had been cured, his deepest wish all these years come true.
“In due time.”
“Time? Gabriel, there are people suffering.”
“People will always suffer, Dad. That’s their nature. They’ll still be suffering if and when this cure is made public. You must be patient.”
Shelby moved in, took Mason’s hand. “Dad, it worked. I can hear, and I’m so happy again. I can’t wait to see Mom and tell her.”
“I can arrange for you to be taken home now,” Gabriel said. “But Dad here has something else he needs to do. Someone to see.”
Mason’s mouth dried up.
So this is it. There has to be a cost. Nothing this big is done without expectations
. “Where is he?”
Gabriel smiled and pointed. “First lift there. Annabelle’s waiting at the elevator, she’ll take you straight up to him, where I hope you’ll listen with an open mind and accept …”
“Accept what?”
“The offer to join us, of course.”
“If I refuse?”
Gabriel continued smiling. “You won’t.”
“Daddy,” Shelby whispered. “You won’t. I was just made a similar offer.”
“You?”
“Yes, coinciding with my research in London. They need someone in the branch office there.”
“You’re still in school. It’s out of the question.”
“In my spare time, Dad. It’s like an internship.”
“A well-paying one,” Gabriel said.
“And when,” Mason asked, “did money become important to you, Gabriel?”
“Who said it was? We’re talking about my little sister, who sure enjoys spending it. And besides, I know what you make as a weather hack, Dad, and I know how hard it is to pay for Mom’s care. So please do us all a favor, drop the martyr act and really listen to what’s offered to you up there.”
Shelby squeezed his hand. She signed, for old times’ sake,
Please.