Wisdom fell fifty feet and landed
face-first on concrete. His skull bounced off the sidewalk twice. Then he lay still. He kept his eyes closed. Each breath brought
stabbing pain. At
least three ribs were broken. Probably more. Still, it was over: the Djinn was dead.
Nearby, a little girl screamed.
He blinked repeatedly, forcing his eyes to
focus. Misty shapes solidified and he realized he was no longer in the
underground fortress of the Council. Cold mist fell on his face and the
air rumbled with the sound of rushing water. He realized where he was.
“Niagara Falls? How the hell…?”
He pushed himself up on weak arms and
looked around. Snow-covered ice blanketed everything. Spray from
the waterfall froze on the faces and jackets of the crowd of tourists gathered
around him. They stared at him, repulsed. Looking down, he saw why.
It was impossible to tell where tattered flesh ended and tattered suit began:
both were the same shade of red. Fortunately, aside from the ribs,
nothing seemed to be broken. It was small consolation. Everything
had gone so wrong.
Well, not everything.
“I won,” he said. The Djinn was dead
and the Council defeated. His back muscles spasmed as he forced himself to his
feet. “Any idea what the date is? Don’t worry I won’t bite.”
A woman with overly-bleached blonde hair
took off running before he finished speaking. Two men in their early
twenties stared at him and took a collective step back.
“Jesus, I said I wouldn’t bite.”
Wisdom stretched his arms, groaning as tattered muscles and tendons slipped back
into place. “Now tell me what day it is before I change my mind about the
biting thing.”
“Is there a problem here?”
He turned to face a thick-armed police
officer with a graying crew cut.
“There won’t be a problem if someone tells
me what the bloody date is.” Wisdom spoke through clenched jaws.
“Did they outlaw common courtesy while I was away?”
“You’ve been away, eh?” The police
officer scratched his jaw and stared openly at Wisdom. Then he exhaled slowly,
an internal conversation flashing across his face. “You’re in pretty
rough shape there. Maybe it would be best if you come with me.”
Wisdom clenched his fists; orange fire
flared in his eyes.
The police officer rose off the ground two
feet clutching his throat as if being choked by invisible hands.
“Maybe" Wisdom said, "it would
be best if you just answered the damn question.”
“It’s January 15th!”
"Four months," he said.
"We fought for four months? That definitely explains why I'm exhausted.
" Wisdom smiled down at the young girl who shouted the date and
relaxed his fists. The police officer dropped, reaching for his gun even as he
struggled back to his feet.
“This is tiresome.” Wisdom waved his
hand and the man stopped moving.
Everyone within seven hundred feet stopped
moving.
A hush fell on Queen Victoria Park.
The only sound was the rush of the Niagara River racing over the escarpment to
slam against the rocks below. Some things even Wisdom's power couldn't
stop. He walked up wide stone steps toward the nearest hotel.
Something moved at the edge of the
temporal distortion. He turned slowly toward it. Near the entrance
to an alleyway, behind a hot dog stand, a glint of gold flashed. Just a
speck of light. He tried to focus on whatever was moving in the shadows
but the harder he concentrated, the more the image blurred.
"I'm seeing things," he
said. "Must be more drained than I thought." He rubbed
his eyes and walked away from the mystery.
Each step was painful. Shoeless, his
raw, open flesh and exposed bones left a trail of bloody footprints behind
him. Snow crunched underfoot, the sound echoing back from parked cars and
store fronts. Past the edge of his displaced time, children pulled at
parents’ hands, urging them into arcades and haunted houses.
"Hasn't changed much," he said
under his breath. "Haven't been here in years. Still the same flashy
lights and gaudy tourist traps. Looks like I’m not the only thing keeping this
city stuck in time."
He slipped through the revolving doors of
a hotel. People in winter coats scattered. Two heavily-muscled men
in crisp white security uniforms marched toward him, clubs in hand. A
balding man behind the front desk reached for the phone.
“Put that down.” The concierge went
rigid and did as he was told.
Then Wisdom turned to the security guards.
“And you two, go home. Consider this a spa day.” The stern
intimidation on each guard’s face was replaced by vacant numbness. In
unison, they nodded and walked out the front door.
Wisdom sighed and limped the rest of the
way to the front desk.
“Now. Please. Give me the best
room for you have. And I don’t care if it’s occupied. Just give me
the key. I’ll take care of anyone in the room. Also, I want
clothes.” Wisdom reached over the counter for a pen and pad of
paper. Blood dripped from his forearms onto a pile of credit card
receipts behind the counter. “These are my measurements. Charge
everything to my room. And send up food, too. One of everything on
the menu.”
The front desk clerk nodded slowly, the
same vacant look on his face. He programmed a keycard and handed it to
Wisdom.
“Thank you.” Wisdom bowed his
head. Keycard in hand, he went to the bank of elevators on the other side
of the lobby. People stared at him and talked amongst themselves but no
one else approached him. At the elevators, he pushed the button and
waited. And waited. He grunted and pushed the button several more
times.
“I can kill a Djinn, yet, despite all my
power, I’m stuck waiting on elevators. My life is brimful of
subtext.” While the car descended, he studied his reflection in the
mirrored walls finally seeing the extent of his injuries. He was a large
man, nearly seven feet tall, with thick, well developed muscles. His skin
was normally dark brown, the color of wet dirt. It was impossible to tell
in his current state. Large chunks of his flesh were missing, revealing
wet gristle and bone. His black eyes glowed reddish-orange adding an
extra element of menace. “I look like day-old road kill.”
Eventually, the elevator arrived.
Mercifully, the other guests let him ride up alone. He rode to the 16th floor and
found the room listed on the keycard. It was a two-story presidential
suite complete with whirlpool. Thankfully, it was unoccupied.
He headed straight for the bathroom.
He pulled off the remnants of his clothes, careful not to pull away
flesh. They fell in wet piles on the tiled floor.
"I pity the bastard who has to clean
this up," he said as he turned on the shower. "Speaking of poor
bastards, I wonder what happened to the Anomalies. Did Elaine get them
out? I should call Echo." He shook the thought away. Whatever
happened to the Anomalies he was in no shape to deal with it now. He'd
been gone for four months. A few more days wouldn't change anything. All
that mattered was Echo, and he felt certain she was
fine. She was a survivor.
He stepped under the water, hissing in
pain and disgust. Loose pieces of flesh flapped under the spray. The
shower quickly filled with blood. He thought of biting his lip to brace
against screaming but decided against it. In his current state, it might
come off. He leaned against the shower wall and stayed under the water
until it ran cool. Then he turned the taps off and stood on shaky
knees.
Looking at the pools of blood covering the
floor, Wisdom grunted. To get back he would have step through the mess
he'd made. He waved his hand and the blood disappeared. Then, so as
not to make his actions futile, he cauterized his wounds by will. The
exertion was regrettable. He fell to his knees for a moment until his
strength returned.
"Guess I'd better not attempt to heal
myself just yet. It'll probably take at least a week before I'm back to
my old self. I can't risk heading to one of my offices either, not before
I know what I'm heading into. The Council may be defeated but they have
allies."
Pushing himself back to his feet, he
walked to the king-sized bed and slipped beneath the covers. He turned on the
TV and flipped channels until he found an infomercial about a complex food
processor. Completely engrossed, he watched for several minutes.
"What the hell am I doing?"
Embarrassed, he changed the channel. "I haven't cooked my own meals in
decades." He surfed for a few more minutes. Then he landed on
CNN. What he saw made him feel much colder than the snow and ice outside.
Greece.
Wolfe Blitzer sat on an overly-lit set
constructed atop the White Tower in Thessaloniki. The night sky
sporadically exploded in blasts of light and sound. But it was the man in
the chair next to Wolfe that concerned Wisdom.
“I’m here with Propates,” Wolfe said into
the camera. “He's the leader of the Council of Peacocks who, as we speak,
continue to challenge the Greek government for sovereignty over the area.
This is the twenty-third day of the occupation. Casualties have been
extremely one-sided. Hundreds confirmed dead. Despite their best efforts,
the Greeks have yet to win a single skirmish. The U.N. remains
uncommitted, with no other country willing to commit. Earlier today, we
were contacted by Propates. He wants the Greeks to stop fighting a war
they cannot win, his words. Propates, you claim your once-secret
organization has found a way to forcibly evolve humans. Some feel statements
like this prove you're a little, how shall I say…”
“Nuts?” Propates smiled at Wolfe and
winked at the camera. He was darkly handsome with an olive complexion and
short-cropped black hair. His eyes were a shade of bluish-green that
hinted of the ocean: the color of peacock feathers. "“I’ll
tell you what's nuts, Wolfe. It's completely insane for people to see
what me and the other Council members are capable of doing and continue to
delude themselves."
Wisdom clenched his fists, tearing at the
sheets. His concentration flickered and blood leaked from his
wounds.
Propates turned back to Wolfe.
"There are hundreds of Council members around the world. Thirteen of
us walked into Athens and tore the city apart. Thirteen. I believe
it was your network that showed the first images. And then there are my
angels, the Edimmu. You can probably see some of them flying behind us
right now. We have tens of thousands. This war is already
won. To pretend it's not, that, my friend, is truly insane."
Wolfe swallowed visibly, his complexion
pale despite the heavy makeup. “We have reports today, as I’m sure you’ve
heard, from the Vatican.”
“Oh, yes. I’ve heard.”
“They declared you are Satan and that Last
Days are here.”
“I supposed I should be flattered.”
Propates turned to the camera again. “But I'm not. Whether you call him
Argus or Melek Taus, Christians have vilified my God for centuries.
They're right about one thing. These definitely are the last days of the old
regime. Big changes are coming. If the Pope has anything else to
say I'd be more than happy to pop on over to Rome for a private conversation.”
Wisdom shook his head. “Propates, what the
hell are you doing?”
"Well, well, well." On the
screen, Propates slowly sat back in his chair and looked fully into the
camera. "Wolfe, I'm afraid I have to leave. I just got a message
from an old friend."
With a burst of bright light, the camera
flickered and the TV screen filled with static.
Wisdom jumped out of bed. He waved his
hand and called up the thin threads of his power. White sheets leapt off
the bed and coiled around his body. They twisted and mutated around from their
original form into a blood-red three-piece suit. Fear threatened to
overwhelm him. He thought of running but shook the thought away. He
couldn't let Propates see how weak he was.
Darkness dripped like syrup down the
walls, filling the room like a pool. Within moments the hotel room was flooded
with shadow. He saw the face first. It surfaced from the murk, eyes
and smile bright sparks. Then Propates stepped forward and he was fully
in the hotel room. Behind him, there were hints of movement in the
shadows. Propates didn't come alone.
“Well, Wisdom, I was beginning to wonder
when your father would tire of torturing you.”
Momentary doubt crossed Wisdom’s
mind. He shook it away. “Your ignorance is tiring. Once
again, you prove how little you know Propates. My father didn't torture
me. He wanted to drag me back to the Kaz. We fought. Then, I
killed him.”
“Really? Shame. Considering
the deal we worked out.”
Doubt returned and settled firmly in
Wisdom’s mind.
“You see, Wisdom, you're the arrogant
one. That’s not an insult. It’s just the truth. You think you're so
smart but you've never been able to see the 'Big Picture.’ You always
focus on the individual pieces, not how they mingled together. Did you
wonder why your father chose now to come
get you? Of course not. That would require forethought. Or
maybe you just underestimated me. I'm not the Roman peasant I used to
be. I outplayed you. This is check and mate. Concede."
“Send all the Edimmu after me you
want." Wisdom took a step forward. He hid how much his knees
trembled, but just barely.
Propates sneered and looked over his
shoulder. “I didn't bring Edimmu. These are your precious
Anomalies. You still don’t get it, do you? Echo did, in the
end. And I’m afraid I do mean it was the end for her. You see,
unlike you, she was an intellectual threat. So I tossed her into a volcano.”
Wisdom took another step forward.
This time his knees didn’t tremble in the least.
“Relax, Wisdom.” The movement from
the shadows behind Propates increased. “I'm not here to fight. The
Council has big plans for this planet. You could still be part of
it. You and me, working together just like old times. Don't you see
what we've already accomplished?"
“Spell it out for me.” Wisdom’s head
pounded, his face flush with anger. “After all, I’m too stupid to see the big
picture, right?”
Propates walked over to a burgundy chair
by the window and, with a quiet chuckle, sat down. “I really have you to
thank. What you did to me and Echo was the inspiration for the project.
We perfected the process of Eyeness. It took longer than expected but the
results are remarkable. Just imagine the forced evolution of the human race,
the things we could be capable of. So much untapped power. We used your
Anomalies but I'm afraid you may not recognize them anymore. The process does
put the body through a few changes.”
Wisdom held his hand up. With a
grunt, he pushed the shadows away. They retreated like soiled water
flowing down the drain. The strain opened up several of his old wounds
but he felt little of the pain. He was alone with Propates.
“Congratulations.” Wisdom wiped
blood from his lip. “You’ve won. Touché and all that. I can’t
believe I didn’t see this coming. Really, I can’t. I guess you're
right. I did underestimate you. Fortunately for me, you’ve made two mistakes.”
“Really? And what would they
be?” Propates beamed, the smile on his face showing no trace of fear.
“First, never make deals with my
father. Djinn can’t be trusted. You see, if he really wanted you to
succeed, he would have let you in on a little secret. Your second
mistake. Remember the portals I can make? The ones that let me
travel around the world? The ones I taught you and Echo how to make so
long ago?” Wisdom learned forward and lowered his voice. Now it was
his turn to smile. “I didn’t teach you everything.”
“What are you getting at, Wisdom?”
Doubt flickered across Propates' face.
“Come now. You pride yourself on how smart
you are. I could give you a hint but, from the look on your face, I think
you’ve worked it out.”
Propates was on his feet moving toward
Wisdom.
Wisdom’s eyes flashed bright orange.
With a flick of the wrist he sent Propates flying; he crashed through the
reinforced windows and fell to the streets below.
“See you soon,” Wisdom said. Then he
opened a portal and traveled back through time.
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