Dante

  Science has explained nothing; the more we know the more fantastic the world becomes and the profounder the surrounding darkness.

  --Aldous Huxley

  We stare at the rotating ring of blue-green fire and the tiny, whirling Dragons above the fountain.

  The effect, despite all my safeguards, is hypnotic. And for a moment, this display is all I can see.

  Then the scent of smoke mingles with the chaos in the corners of my vision, warring for my attention. And then my AIs chime in as well.

  “Oh,” Foresight says, his voice subdued. “This is bad.”

  “What?” I say, pulling my right wrist up to my mouth and answering in hushed tones as the Dragon’s dance.

  A sliver of darkness, laced with purple and blue light, threads its way through the center of the circle.

  “I’m getting some unusual energy readings,” Foresight observes. “Much like the ones we pieced together from the night you lost your hour of memory. And others resembling wormhole experiments. Logos and I think…”

  “Someone’s tapped a unique power source, and is trying to create a wormhole with it.” Logos cuts in, sounding matter-of-fact. “No idea where the energy’s coming from, but that’s what fits the readings.”

  Anton suddenly grunts and presses a hand to his chest.

  I look at him, startled. Enhanced as he is, I can’t imagine what we’ve done today has even left him winded, but…

  “Your heart?” I ask, concern warring with disbelief.

  The huge teen shakes his red head and looks around, seeming confused. “Not my heart, but…”

  A faint keening sound echoes from the dance of dragons and pattern of plasma over the fountain. The strange shard of darkness pulses with blue and purple light in the center of the circle.

  And then, in its depths, I see the faint glimmer of...

  “Stars?” I ask. “Anton, Foresight, are you seeing this?”

  “I see many things, Dante,” Foresight remarks. “But yes, I also see them. What they mean I cannot say.”

  The stars twist as they grow brighter, expanding from points to threads of light, and then twisting again into symbols.

  “Those aren’t stars,” Anton interrupts, straightening, his momentary weakness forgotten. “Don’t let them ensnare you.” He taps his shades and I instinctively mimic him. Silvered glass cuts off my view of the stars, selectively.

  “Basilisk hack?” I ask. “Lyrica, keep watch.”

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  “Always,” she answers, but I can sense the powerful AI focusing immense intelligence on the psychological threats in our environment, even as Foresight struggles to crunch the numbers on the inexplicable physical forces at play.

  “More than a hack,” Anton says, taking a deep breath. “Those stars. We think they’re the first things that ever touched our minds.”

  I dart a sideways glance at him, and notice him boosting the power to a plasma rifle, looking grim.

  “There’s definitely something strange at work here,” Lyrica observes, “but I can not quantify it, Dante. I think this is beyond me.”

  “Whatever the Circle is,” Anton continues, “they’re at the heart of it. The precursors to the tech the Circle uses today.”

  “What are they?” I ask.

  Anton is silent. I stare over at him, then back at the fountain. Whatever they are, we’ll need to interfere soon. The Dragons and their ring of plasma are moving faster and faster, towards a crescendo. Instinctively I ready my rifles as well, not even glancing down as I adjust them to release their power at once in brief but immensely powerful bursts.

  “Souls,” he says finally.

  “Souls?” I ask. “How…?”

  Anton raises a hand to interrupt my questions. “Not pure souls, those are untouchable. But someone found a way to transfer from the body to a shell to serve as a second body. A shell made of light or something like it – bright, fast, untouchable.

  “Beautiful. And then they sent them forth into the world. Or the cosmos.”

  “To do what?” I ask as they flicker.

  “I don’t know,” he says. “We used to think they were friendly. Maybe the first ones were. But now…” Anton’s expression is troubled. “If they can do what they can to us, what can they do to everyone else? We were practically born with defenses. Most kids have nothing.”

  I raise a rifle in each hand. I can hold them steady, brace myself, and the kick won’t knock me off my feet.

  “Stop them, then?” I ask.

  “I don’t know if they’re doing this, or just taking advantage.” He looks over at me. “The Circle could just be cover for opportunists and other players. The dimensional breach,” he nods at the slice of glimmering darkness, “could be someone else’s creation, and they’re just filtering through the first gap they find.”

  “I can’t tell either, Dante,” Foresight admits from my smartwatch.

  Anton taps an earbud. “Anything on that analysis, guys? You’re seeing what I’m seeing up top.”

  I tap my earbud as well.

  And screams abruptly echo in my ears.

  “Seal it!” Chris is thundering. “He’s here!”

  And a strange yet familiar voice shouts in answer. “I can fight him!”

  “No!” Andi shouts. “Kei, you’re why he’s coming! Your power! He doesn’t need the control system. You’re the blade! He’s cutting through using you!”

  “Get clear, then!” Arden calls out. “I’ll hold him as long as I…”

  The connection goes dead. And a pair of stars within the growing shadow flare like eyes in the darkness.

  And focus on us.

  The song of the stars sings around us. The eyes pierce into the depths of our spirits.

  And then something reaches into our bodies. Into our souls.

  And for a moment, I am rising from my body again, like in the Nexus, but without any sense of control… or the desire for it.

  I’m simply… free.

  And a countering song rattles through my head, and I’m back, in my body, but with every part of me tingling as if they’ve gone to sleep.

  “Stay with me, Dante!” Lyrica calls out, her voice sharp and desperate. Strange sounds, musical and dissonant, soft and loud, high and low, vibrate in my ears, and strange visions flash across my shades. Blocking out, I’m sure, whatever she senses is attacking me now.

  Anton gasps and nods as though he’s just returned to his own earthly shell. “Fight it. I think they’ve linked that thing to the temporal passage.”

  “The what?” I ask.

  Anton next gasp turns into a sigh.

  “Kestrel’s a genius. More, even. But even she only made one traversable wormhole across time. Matter couldn’t survive the trip. Energy couldn’t. Even data couldn’t, not even to be constructed on the far side. But…”

  I nod in understanding. “But souls could.” I meet his gaze. “That’s it, right?”

  He nods.

  “Where’s the other end?”

  “Best guess? The Island. In the present and the past.” He pauses. “They never could move it again. We call the fixed ends of it the Temporal Lock.”

  “And they’re using it?”

  “Probably. It’s invaluable if they can. The tech used to make and move it shattered and couldn’t be replaced.”

  “Is the trip one way?”

  Anton sighs again. “I really don’t know. Maybe not, for some.”

  “Can it be expanded?”

  “Kestrel couldn’t. There’s only one girl who might’ve had the key…”

  A rumble like distant thunder shakes the Maze and rattles windows all around us. A purple haze rises from the heart of the hedgerows.

  “One girl?” I ask.

  “And I think she might be fighting them now.”

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