Aliomenti Saga 6: Stark Cataclysm (23 page)

Jessica, across the stage, looked up, her face a mix of expectation and dread. “Can I… can I open the machine, then?”

Angel nodded. “Of course.”

The crowds pressed in on Jessica, straining to see inside, wondering if they’d see nothing, a melted bit of metal, or…

“It’s… it’s fine! It worked!” Jessica’s genuine shock and joy were footage they could never find in someone trying to act out the emotions. People would see Jessica and believe in the product. There was a joy there, relief that she’d not put a unique family heirloom at risk.

Angel moved through the crowds in Jessica’s direction. “Can you confirm that is, in fact, your necklace?”

“It’s… yes, it’s mine!”

“And it’s undamaged, fully formed inside your machine, unaltered in any way?”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine!” Jessica slid the necklace to her neck, threw her raven-colored hair forward, and expertly maneuvered the clasp before moving her hair back to its usual position.

Angel glanced over her shoulder. “Melanie, can you confirm that there’s nothing in your device?”

Melanie hesitated, apparently wondering if she’d be forced to reveal that the door was stuck, and realized she shouldn’t know the door had been “stuck” during the transport. The handle slid down, the door opened, and she peered inside, her surprise sending a strong ripple through Angel’s enhanced empathy senses. “It’s empty!”

“Everyone on the stage… did you see the necklace removed from the device expertly operated by Melanie? Did anyone see it moving outside the two devices?”

Murmurs filled the crowd, voices offering responses ranging from “no” to “I was too busy watching Jessica.”

“And is everyone satisfied that they have, in fact, just witnessed a movement of matter from one point to another without using typical transport methods?”

The crowd noted its agreement with a loud cheer.

Angel nodded. She slipped toward the edge of the stage, hit another button on her remote, and rode the third platform as it rose above the stage. “Any questions?”

“How do the devices know to send to each other?”

Angel nodded. “Great question. After all, if there are thousands of devices in operation, how do they know which receives the transported matter? Each unit is assigned the equivalent of a telephone number. You’d dial the “phone” number of the targeted device when ready to transport. We preprogrammed the number of the target machine into the sending machine to simplify the test.”

“How do you prevent from receiving unauthorized products?”

Angel nodded. “We were concerned about the possibility of transporting unwanted materials to a recipient, ranging from the prank level concerns—shipping, say, a pile of manure to someone who’d angered you—to the extreme of sending some type of explosive through to a recipient. The telephone analogy follows here. If you aren’t expecting a transport, you don’t have to accept the call. We recommend leaving the devices unplugged when not sending or receiving, and this strategy eliminates the need to decline transport of unwanted material.”

“Can you send a person through the devices?”

Angel shook her head. “The transporters are meant only for inanimate objects. No animals, no people.”

“But you
could
, right?”

Angel shook her head. “The risk is far too great. We’ve tested the products thoroughly, we stand behind them, but any machine can fail. We do not endorse the products for the transport of living things. The consequences of a failure in those cases are literally a matter of life or death.”

She’d known that question was coming; people would remember the transporters from the ancient television shows, the ease of traveling long distances enabled by those devices. But they’d agreed, even a millionth of a percent chance of failure was too large a risk for anything living. They also wanted to avoid giving the media the opportunity to use the term teleportation. They could enforce the transporter name with inanimate objects, but not with people. It was as much strategic, an effort to keep the company and its invention from the public eyes, as a safety concern.

She fielded another dozen questions relating to availability, pricing, actual electrical capacity required, and whether models with larger transport compartments would be available. She answered each question, dismissed the idea of an investment project to develop a separate human transporter, and lowered her dais and stepped back onto the stage, mingling with the crowd. Assistants moved in and allowed attendees to send items to each other with the machines. They’d believed the experiment, but personal experience in operating the machine and seeing one’s own possession moved in that manner was irrefutable proof. More people watched from beneath the machines during the ongoing test transports, ensuring that nothing was moved by hand.

Angel, trouble’s brewing.

She slid into a back room.
Talk to me, Adam. What’s going on?

Word’s gotten out. People know we’re here. They’ve seen live video of the event. Potential ramifications for those in the transportation industry are being discussed. There are… quite a few angry people heading this way. They’re armed, Angel.

That couldn’t be good. They needed to clear the auditorium. Defending a crowd of this size against a mob large enough to concern Adam would present a challenge.

She stepped out of the shadows and flipped her microphone back on. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. We’d like to wrap things up here. The shuttle buses that brought you here are waiting outside to transport you to our post-demonstration reception, where food and drink are available.” She found the wherewithal to smile. “You’ll also find
reliable
Internet if you need to report findings here to parties of interest.”

Fil, thankfully, understood her hidden message. Moments later, she heard groans as Internet connectivity provided by the auditorium dropped offline. That motivated everyone to move expeditiously toward the exits. The key was to keep them moving before the mob arrived. She sent a small haze of Energy over the crowd. Being on the buses was far more enjoyable than staying here, and food awaited them. Everyone in the crowd was famished. That got the last few stragglers moving.

With the main auditorium cleared, she found a second remote in her pocket and pressed it. The clear platform bases remained stationary, but the transport devices dropped down inside. She shut both doors in the clear material, and the nano-based material fused solid. The tops of each bulletproof containment system formed as well. She found the proper spot on the floor before hitting the final button on the remote, watching as a similar clear bulletproof container formed around her. Miniature holes in the surface allowed air to flow in and out.

She checked to be certain the earpiece was still in place and then activated the microphone. “Can all of you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, sis. Our guests number about one hundred, and they don’t look very happy.”

“You’re there with them?”

“Affirmative. They’re about two hundred yards out. Adam and the Mechanic are guarding the buses. I’ll try to slow them down.”

“Still no sign of Aliomenti involvement?”

“No, which concerns me.”

“Why’s that?” Adam chimed in.

“Gena and Eva’s last report from Headquarters suggested that, though finding Dad remains their top area of focus, they are starting to watch human innovations again. If they’re paying attention, they
have
to notice something like this. So the fact that they’re not here is… strange.” He paused. “And deeply concerning.”

“You think they’re targeting something else?” Adam asked.

“I do now. The people below me are quite determined to destroy the machines here, but that’s not a big deal, because…”

“Because we can always make more at the factory,” Angel said.

They all understood what was happening in an instant. “Fil, go ahead and blast a tire to slow them, but right now we need you to get to the production facility as soon as you can.” The Mechanic’s voice was firm. “Contact Eva and Gena en route; see if they’ve got any more news on the topic. Adam and I will make sure the humans here are able to return safely to their places of residence or lodging, and then we’ll join you.”

“And I’ll mollify the crowds when they get here, help them understand that this isn’t a threat, and be on my way as well,” Angel added. She slipped out of the protective enclosure and dimmed the lights in the auditorium; perhaps they’d realize everything was over and leave as soon as they arrived.

She heard a small popping sound over the communication circuit. “The demonstrators’ lead bus now has a flat tire,” Fil reported. “The roads leading to the convention center and auditorium are too narrow to allow the other buses through. They’ll have to walk the rest of the way. Hopefully, they’ll calm down on their way to visit you, sis. I’m heading to the factory. Stay safe, all of you.” There was a faint click as Fil disconnected.

The wait was one she couldn’t imagine making without her Energy skills. Her human senses heard only the inherent shifts of the building, the creaks, the groaning, saw flickering shadows of ghosts that didn’t exist. With her Energy, she could feel the anger and confusion moving her way, knew exactly when they’d walk through the doors of the auditorium looking for a fight. In their minds, the transporters were a threat to their ability to earn a living, to provide homes and food for their families. Their families were worth fighting for, weren’t they?

When they entered the auditorium, they walked into a gentle, invisible bath of Angel’s powerful empathic Energy. The cubes were too expensive to make them practical for short-term transport. One wouldn’t use a jet plane to move a product ten miles. Likewise, one wouldn’t move goods with a device of this type just a short distance; the novelty would wear off when the first electrical bills arrived. Their jobs weren’t at risk. Acts of vandalism or destruction would have a profoundly negative effect on their image and standing in the community. It simply wasn’t a good use of their time and energy.

She could feel the anger evaporate over the course of several minutes, replaced by a general curiosity. She held still wishing she’d thought to make the surface material opaque. But they seemed not to notice her. She held perfectly still as the armed mob looked at the machines, gawked at the high price tags and operational costs, and laughed at the limited size of goods transportable with the devices.

Moments later, they were gone.

She exhaled deeply, her warm breath misting on the surface of the clear compartment. She did a brief scan for unfamiliar Energy signals; finding none, she teleported to her transport sphere. She set the invisible craft on a course for the transporter factory and opened a communication link with the others.

“I’m en route. What’s the status, Fil?”

“Lots of damage, unfortunately.” He sounded disappointed. “The Aliomenti are here, so there’s not much we can do about the emotions of those attacking. We’re recording it, of course; we’ll plaster the images across as many news sites as we can and most assuredly file suit against those involved. I suspect our marketing teams will be able to use the attacks, but we’ll have to rebuild a good portion of the factory, replace a few of the production machines, and ramp up security.”

“We’re just getting there now, Angel,” Adam added. “The worst is over, and the attackers will likely disperse once the police arrive. There’s really no need for anyone not already here to make the trip. It’s too late to defend the factory now, and we’ve got the hands on the ground to handle the upcoming cleanup effort.”

“Understood, Adam.” Gena’s voice was crisp and efficient, though Angel could detect a slight hint of disappointment. Gena had hoped to prevent any damage.

“Have you word of any casualties or fatalities?” Eva asked.

“No,” the Mechanic said. “We alerted the factory foreman of our suspicions in time to shut the machinery down and evacuate. The security team wanted to stay, but when we realized Aliomenti were coming, we knew that wouldn’t end well. Thankfully, the losses are only to property. Property can be repaired or replaced.”

Angel elected to make the trip to the factory, and arrived fifteen minutes after the conversation ended. The factory was a charred remnant of the building she’d seen earlier in the day. They’d rebuild. She was happy they’d evacuated the building; happy none of her people had been injured in the attack.

She felt a rising anger, felt her Energy dance inside her, ready to act, ready to unleash her fury against her enemies.

“Do you ever wish, just once, that we didn’t have to hide?” she asked through gritted teeth. “Do you ever wish we could respond with force against the Aliomenti when necessary, react without concern of revealing ourselves to them? Do you ever wish we didn’t have to sit back and let them get away with these types of acts?”

“Always,” the Mechanic replied.

“I do as well,” Fil said. His voice turned somber. “Yet… truth be told, having seen what happens when anger dominates my life, I’m happy to avoid violence in any form.”

“Fair point,” Adam said. “For now, we’ll help the humans here overcome this tragedy and get everyone back to work as soon as possible.”

Angel glanced at date on her view screen display. They had seventy-nine years until they’d travel back in time to retrieve her father. Hope had told them the story of her own countdown to a known future event. Centuries became decades, which became years, which became months, and what seemed an eternity became an instant. She told them that they’d reached a point of despair of ever finding the cure for ambrosia… and that the solution had come from an unlikely source.