A Question of Will (18 page)

Will took several deep breaths. He’d promised to keep an open mind, and he’d clearly need one to deal with this new reality. He needed to learn these skills if he was going to face them, and fight the people who’d killed Hope and Josh. Against those who would seek to harm others in a similar fashion. It was his duty. And he had to admit it was tempting outside of a sense of duty as well. What would it be like to do what Angel had just done?

He looked to Angel. “Will I feel that warmth again if I follow your training and teaching?”

Angel looked surprised. “You felt that?”

“When you moved me? Yes. It felt like a warm glove surrounded me and picked me up. Was that...was that your Energy that moved me?”

She nodded. “It was, but I’m surprised. Usually humans can’t sense the Energy at all. You have a tremendous sensitivity.”

Will scowled. “I thought
human
was a bad word around here. And what does it mean, I have a tremendous sensitivity?”

Angel smiled. “Relax, Mr. Stark. In the Alliance,
human
simply means one untrained in our practices, one who cannot yet sense or use Energy. Consider it a synonym for a potential apprentice. And the sensitivity means that you’ll likely progress at a much faster rate than most.”

“So I learn to sense and manipulate this warmth. That’s it?”

She nodded.

“
That’s
the big secret the Aliomenti want to hide?
That’s
why my wife and son were murdered?” He managed to keep his tone conversational. Angel had done nothing to them, after all.

She understood. “Perhaps electricity is a better analogy than the fire example from before. Many years ago, a few people were aware of electricity, but the implications and usages were unknown. Most people, if they’d even heard of it, might see it as nothing more than the output of an experiment performed by Benjamin Franklin. He invented lightning rods, but the building block of electricity wasn’t of any use. Why? Because nobody knew what to do with it at that point.”

Will shrugged.

“But think about electricity two centuries later. It’s used to power lights and air conditioners and furnaces. It allows people to use refrigerators and microwave ovens. Without electricity, we would not have seen the advances that led to radio, television, computers, or the Internet. If you went back to Franklin’s era with that knowledge, you’d be rather wealthy and powerful in a short period of time. Energy is like that. It’s limited by how much you can generate and your own creativity, much as electricity seems to be. Would people kill to have and retain exclusivity about such a technology decades or centuries before others? You know the answer to that, Mr. Stark.”

He nodded.

“Understand, Mr. Stark. The advances you have seen are rather extreme, and you haven’t seen everything. We’re too far advanced to simply drop everything on the world at once. We agree with our Aliomenti brethren on that concept, though not on punishment for so-called violations. We believe in sharing that knowledge, tempered with patience. That’s what our symbol represents.” She held up her right hand, palm facing him.

The symbol was tattooed on her palm with gold ink. Three dashed circles merging in the center around what looked like a letter A. Each circle contained an object: a scroll, a tongue of fire, and a bird.

“Our group — the letter A — is at our core, and enables us to make our advances. But our circles are open. We want our knowledge — the scroll — and our technical and Energy advances — the fire — to go out to the whole world. We also seek peace and prosperity and work to achieve that as well, hence the dove. They are tattooed onto our palms, always with us yet out of sight, and our unity is shown when we shake hands and our symbols come together. New recruits must wait a year before they receive the tattoo on their palms. We use it as a precaution, to make sure loyalty is proven before too much is revealed. We don’t like doing it; unfortunately, we can’t take the risk at this point of doing otherwise.”

Will nodded. “I saw something similar on the man at my house. I don’t think he was one of the Hunters, though. I thought maybe he was their boss.”

Angel looked interested. “The Leader was there?” She nodded. “That makes sense, if they thought they were capturing a dangerous fugitive like you.” Will opened his mouth to protest, and then realized she was teasing him. “Yes, the Aliomenti have a symbol as well. They also have a scroll and a tongue of fire, along with a sword, representative of power. The symbols are within a dashed circle, indicating that sharing is encouraged, but only within the group. The outside world is off limits. That’s why there’s a solid outer circle surrounding it. And the giant A...well, that’s their way of reminding themselves of the importance of the Aliomenti organization, the first and most important part of their life. They are the Elites of this world, and they are focused on making sure it stays that way. The four items in their symbol — the scroll, the fire, the sword, and the letter A — also symbolize the four Oaths. They wear their symbols on clothing except when they go into human communities; they don’t usually like to draw attention to themselves if they can avoid it. If you are human and see the Aliomenti symbol, there’s a good chance it’s the last thing you’ll ever see.”

Will glanced at the symbol on her palm again. “I prefer yours. How do I get started so I can begin fighting the Aliomenti?”

“Mr. Stark, we don’t
fight
the Aliomenti in the traditional sense of the word. We are not an army, and they have the same skills we have. They also outnumber us about a hundred to one, and thus any offensive would probably end with all of us being eliminated. Please understand, the Aliomenti are estranged family to us. We prefer reunion, not war. The dove is part of our symbol for a reason. Most of our efforts involve recruiting from their numbers in secret, winning over the silent majority. We know that men like the Hunters are beyond reach and reason, but many others simply need to be told that there’s a different way.”

“I can respect that,” Will said with grudging acceptance. “I can’t say with certainty that I’ll act with restraint if the opportunity arises, but I will do my best to follow your guidelines and earn the right to wear your symbol. Now, how do I begin?”

“You’ll need Energy training, where you’ll learn how to sense, manipulate, and grow Energy, and how to use it to perform various tasks. For any of that to work, however, you’ll have to undergo the Purge first.”

“That sounds...ominous.”

She sighed. “It is, unfortunately. Right now, a great deal of what’s inside you is preventing you from sensing and using your Energy. It’s there; I can feel it. You probably can’t. The Purge will change that. But it won’t be a pleasant experience.”

“How bad?”

“You might have fond memories of your injuries from the night of the fire, and how minor all of those broken bones and burns were.”

He fixed her with a pointed stare. “Could it be fatal?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s possible, but I don’t know.”

Will considered his options. “It sounds like this is what I need to do, though. I’m ready when you are.”

Angel looked at him with deep sympathy. “Fil and Adam can prepare the Purge. I’d advise you to rest up until then. You’ll need it.” She patted him on the arm. “Good luck, Mr. Stark.” And she walked through the wall and out of the room.

Will climbed out of the red chair and moved back to his bed, left with that sobering message.

He’d been burned, cut, kicked, punched, beaten, suffered broken bones, and had likely been within a few moments of being killed.

What could this Purge be, that Angel thought it might be worse than
that
?

XIII

Greed

Will Stark had routinely made the impossible look easy, Michael Baker decided. Baker had once thought that developing a company which created building walls out of cell-sized materials was complicated. The true challenge, he decided, was not in how Will made his money. It was how he gave it away. That simple task was proving to be a greater stress and workload for Baker than attempting to protect the domed city of Pleasanton and its surroundings from crime.

Baker had had no idea why Will Stark’s lawyer would be calling him, but if he had tried to guess it certainly wouldn’t have been to take on this role. He’d worked with Stark in establishing and running a youth baseball program, and the two had become good friends in the process. Baker had suspected that Stark’s will had designated funds to keep the program running in the event of his death, and when he visited with the lawyer suspected he’d be asked to ensure those funds were spent appropriately. Will Stark and his wife, Hope, had a larger role in mind for him. He’d been named the Trustee, not of a small amount of money designed to fund the youth baseball program in perpetuity, but their entire estate.

The shock of his new role paled in comparison to the amazing memorial service the city held in the Starks’ memory. They’d built a small dome on the center square of Pleasanton, inside the large dome covering the entire city. The three caskets were of identical size and design, because the fire had cremated the Starks’ bodies inside their home. Holographic projections of photographs and movies had told their life stories, tracking Will’s meteoric rise to business success, his purchase of Pleasanton out of bankruptcy to operate as a business under his rules, the construction of the dome and reconstruction of the city infrastructure. People were reminded of the simple wedding ceremony of Will and Hope, a couple genuinely in love and who radiated those feelings even in the still photos from the ceremony. There were photographs of the beautiful baby boy born to them a few years later. Comments from business and political leaders were displayed around the city. And the testimonials from people the Starks had helped over the years, ranging from angel investments in fledgling businesses to people whose homes had been saved from foreclosure, were incredibly powerful. Baker wasn’t the only grown man who’d cried without shame for the first time in memory that day.

Baker had resigned from police duty the following morning. It would take time to be able to walk away completely, but he was able to devote more time each day to his Trustee work. The idea of being wealthy and giving away money had appealed to him in the beginning, but he now realized the seriousness of his charge.

In the meetings over the first few days, Millard Howe, the Starks’ estate lawyer, went over quite a few different documents with him, all with various processes and guidelines to follow, and others explaining what they were trying to accomplish. Baker thought it was all excessive. He expected they’d hear about various causes, discuss the merits, and, if they so decided, transfer funds to the recipient. The endless forms, processes, and decision trees the Starks left behind seemed superfluous. The charts were pasted up on the walls of Howe’s modest one-story office building outside the Dome, covering most of the surfaces other than the windows overlooking the small parking lot outside.

When Howe told him how much he’d be paid for serving in the role, Baker had been thunderstruck, and thought he’d misheard. Making as much in a month as you had in a year was surely overkill. Given that Howe told reporters that Baker would be compensated so as to ensure he could maintain his previous standard of living, he thought he’d make the same in this role that he had as a police officer. Howe noted that Stark knew the pressure Baker would face in the role, and the statement was designed to prevent people from thinking that Baker was suddenly wealthy and worthy of the type of threats Stark had faced on a daily basis.

They’d issued a press release early on. Will and Hope wanted to give the vast majority of their estate away, ideally while still living, and the Trust was established to continue their quest. The Trust had rules noting that money must be given away at the discretion of the Trustee after consultation with the Advisor, and only after passing many criteria to ensure the funds met the Starks’ values. The basic tenets were published with a web address enabling people to print out the detailed request forms if they met the criteria. Baker and Howe would review the forms, verify that the request in fact met the Starks’ guidelines, and then respond with their decision, also in writing. Paper would give them a trail with necessary signatures, something which appealed to Howe’s legal nature. Baker expected it to be a smooth, simple process.

The reality had left his faith in humanity shattered. And that came from a man who’d spent years in law enforcement.

The office was flooded in a deluge of paper mail. Of the thousands of letters, only a few dozen met the guidelines the Starks had established and which had been printed clearly on every press release published, and on the web site available for downloading forms. While there were a handful which were close, the vast majority were people who simply wanted money, and expected to receive it, despite meeting none of the criteria the Starks had established. And they had no qualms about employing whatever means necessary to achieve those ends.

Dozens of letters arrived claiming to be blood relatives of one of the Starks, typically a previously unknown child of Will’s. Several claimed to be a missing aunt, uncle, or cousin, and demanded a “proper share for a member of the family,” even threatening legal action if the Trust did not immediately grant them their demands. The most disgusting were the handful of letters from those claiming that Josh had been their father. Baker was sickened that anyone would be so lazy as to not check facts before claiming to be the young adult child of a dead six-year-old boy. The tamer versions tried to sound formal by incorrectly lengthening “Will” to “William” or “Wilson,” assuming that the use of a full formal name gave credibility to their claims. Both Howe and Baker knew that the man’s full given name was, in fact, just Will.