Echo 8 (32 page)

“She's feeding on her?” asked Eva, helping Jake to his feet.

Professor Goff moved to stand beside them. “Draining her energy.”

Maggie's body quieted, the noises in her throat sounding strangled now. Before his eyes—and Eva's, and those of twenty or so mesmerized onlookers—color, breath, and life drained from her.

Suddenly Tess broke free, letting Maggie's wasted body fall away.

“Is she alive?” asked Eva.

“Yes,” said Jake, comparing what was left of the redhead to the husks he'd seen. “Though probably not very.” Then louder he added, “If you idiots will disarm and back off, we can take care of her. She might just live.”

All the observers but Jake, Eva, and Goff backed away until there was a wide buffer of space around Tess.

Tess's eyes raked over the crowd. “Forget about Mac,” she said. “He's a survivor, but he'll use you. What he's selling isn't worth the price. He pays for those supplies and shiny knives with bodies—
your
bodies. I saw him transport two of you back to my Earth and abandon them there.”

No one moved or breathed, and Tess's chin lifted. A breeze teased the ends of her hair, causing that single strand of white to dance around her face.

“I didn't have to let her live,” said Tess. “I'll do the same to any one of you who raises a hand or a weapon against another. If you want to survive, you'll settle your differences.”

Tess moved silently away. Bodies parted, making way for her to return to Ross.

Jake followed with Eva and Goff. The others pressed in around them.

Mac and Ross were locked in a wrestling hold, rolling over the ground like men had been doing in barrooms and barns for centuries.

Except these men were bathed in a creepy blue light, and sometimes it looked like it was one man fighting himself.

*   *   *

Tess felt a disturbance in the air beside her, and a man materialized—Patterson, one of the other agents she'd trained in dislocation and remote viewing. He grabbed her arm, and she gave a cry of protest.

Jake spun toward her, but it was too late. They were already plummeting down the rabbit hole. She struggled against her captor in the tunnel, but he worked an arm around her throat, paralyzing her until her feet struck something harder than earth.

“We've got Dr. Carmichael.”

The words reached her before her vision had reoriented. Seattle Psi, she assumed, since there was no mistaking Garcia's voice. But as small circular windows swam in her vision, she realized her mistake. Patterson yanked her to her feet, and her eyes moved around the cavernous ferry compartment.

A few yards away, near the stairway to the passenger deck, Garcia stood with his gun pressed to her supervisor's head.

“Abby!” she cried. “What's going on?”

“We're waiting for Ross,” growled Garcia.

“We don't have time for this,” protested Tess in her confusion. “Ross is in trouble.”

“That's convenient, but we'll just wait here for a while to be sure.”

Tess stared at the Bureau director. His face was drawn and pale. He looked like he hadn't slept or shaved. “Why don't you tell me what's going on?” she asked.

“I'm sick to death of talking to you, Doctor,” replied Garcia in a tone laced with threat. “We're going to stand right here, in silence, and wait for Ross.”

“What happens then?”

“He's going to pay for his sins.”

Finally her brain steadied enough to hook the missing piece. The files. Ross had betrayed the Bureau. It would probably mean the end of Garcia's career.

“Go warn him if you want to,” continued Garcia, shoving at Abby's head with his pistol.

“Okay!” cried Tess, holding up her hands. “Just take it easy.”

“Wanted to be sure you're paying attention. Now I don't want to hear another word out of either of you.”

Her heart pounded, and she could feel the dislocation trying to take her. Peeling at her edges.
Not yet!
Inside her head the brain gremlins were shouting at her.

You have to get back to Ross!

You have to help Abby first!

“What's that noise?” asked Abby.

Tess stared at her, wondering whether her boss could hear the gremlins too. But then Tess heard murmuring sounds coming from the stairs that led up to the passenger deck.

Not murmuring
.
A woman crying
.

“Who's there?” called Garcia.

The crying abruptly broke off.

“I thought the boat had been cleared,” he barked at Patterson.

“It was, sir,” said Patterson. “Evers and I did the last sweep, and I secured the door myself.”

“Obviously you missed someone.” Perspiration beaded on Garcia's forehead. “This damn ship is a catacomb. Go check it out. You'll have to take Caufield with you.”

“Yes, sir.” Patterson tugged Tess's arm.

“Sounds like Adelaide to me,” said Abby.

Adelaide!
The hairs on the back of Tess's neck raised. Abby shot her a meaningful look. Unfortunately Tess was unable to decipher the meaning.

“Who?” demanded Garcia.

“A woman who died on this ferry.”

“Died? When?”

“In 1940. She shot herself in the women's lounge.” Abby glanced at the stairs. “Which is on the passenger deck, almost directly overhead.”

Garcia's face puckered into an expression of profound irritation. “Are you trying to tell me this ship is haunted?”

“Few modern parapsychologists believe in ghosts per se,” said Abby. “But we do believe in residual energy. Which is actually
more
unsettling.”

Abby was exercising one of her more useful leadership skills—baffling with bullshit. It was true that few scientists in their field believed in literal ghosts, but there was no strong consensus about the cause of ghostly phenomena.

Garcia's gaze had shifted to the stairs. He scooted Abby a couple of degrees to the right, away from the sound. “Okay, we've got some time to kill. Let's have it.”

“A ghost presumably has some form of consciousness, which, even if limited, implies malleability.”

“Which means…?”

“They can do things like change their minds. They can forgive. But a particle can't change its state. An electron is negative forever.”

“What exactly—”

A shot rang out directly overhead. Garcia aimed his pistol at the stairs.

“Watch out!” cried Tess, prompted by instinct.

Her shout drew Garcia's gaze her direction, and a blur of something came flying down the stairs, crashing into Garcia and shoving him aside. Abby and the pistol spilled onto the deck.

The blur had focused and now sprawled across Garcia's chest. “Is somebody down here talking shit about electrons?”

“Jake!”

She felt Patterson's fingers grip her arm, and she reached for the light.

As they swooped together into the tunnel he tried to release her, but she caught hold of his shirt. They shot out at the end, rolling onto a rocky ledge that dug into Tess's back and shoulders. She was disoriented at first—mist rained down over her face, and there seemed to be little rainbows everywhere.

The agent beside her scrambled to his feet. He closed his eyes.

He's going! Stop him!

She bounded from the ground and gave him a shove. He caught at her sleeve, jerking her toward the edge, and she gave a yelp of fear. But as he dropped away he lost his grip on the damp fleece, and down he went. Into the swirling chaos of Snoqualmie Falls.

Cries of shock drifted down from the observation point.

She turned away from the edge and dislocated back to the
Kalakala
.

“Tess!” cried Abby. “Are you okay?”

She flew at the older woman, throwing her arms around her. “I'm okay.”

“Are we saving this for anything?” groaned Jake, still locked in an energy transfer with Garcia. The director struggled against Jake, increasing the flow.

Tess bit her lip. She tried to think if there was any other way. But the man had proved he didn't give up. “You'll have to finish him, Jake,” she replied softly. “Otherwise, he's just going to come after us again.”

“You're sure, Doc?”

No!
But the protest didn't make it any farther than her head. The transfer could enable him to dislocate—it had only taken once for Mac—and they couldn't afford to risk it.

“I'm sorry, Jake.”

“It's your call,” he replied. “I'm just the walking weapon.”

Jake released him, and Tess forced herself to look at the husk. It was hard to imagine it having once been alive.

“God,” muttered Abby.

“How did you know we were here?” Tess asked Jake.

“I had no idea, sweetheart. I guess I just came back to the last place I was—that asshole's bed. I didn't know how to do anything else.”

“Thank God for that. Thank you for coming after me.

“Wouldn't have done it for anyone but you. Makes me feel like I'm gonna puke.”

“We have to do it one more time. I have to get back and help Ross.”

“Right. Can you give me a lift?”

“Where are you going?” asked Abby, brow creased with worry.

“I can't explain now. Ross is in trouble. But I promise I'll be back.”

“Please try to come back in one piece.”

Tess reached out an arm to Jake, and he grasped it. “That ghost thing was brilliant, Jake. How did you find out about Adelaide?”

Light swirled around his head as he gave her a blank look. “What ghost thing?”

*   *   *

Ross fought the merging of their bodies and minds as long as he could, but he and Mac were like magnets held apart by threads. Both men were tiring, and the threads snapped one by one as the magnets strove to assume their natural state.

You're a selfish bastard, aren't you? Taking her away from Jake. Ditching the Bureau so she'll feel obligated to stay with you.

Round Two, psychological warfare. Ross curled his fingers around Mac's throat. But he could feel the fingers digging into his own throat and was forced to ease his grip.

You know it will never work. You'll never give up control, and she'll never be controlled.

Ross growled and tried jamming his thumbs into Mac's eye sockets. Mac shouted and writhed out from under Ross, pain boosting his strength. As he tried scrambling away, Ross tackled him again, locking his arm around Mac's neck.

How sad for you, when you inevitably drive her away. She's all that you have left. But
she'll
always have Jake.

Ross froze, and Mac dug his fingers into Ross's chest, coiling them around his heart.

Mac had wormed around in Ross's brain and found the thing that scared him most. Ross had won the fight of his life—the battle for Tess's heart. What if it had been a mistake? What if he couldn't make her happy?

Was it possible for him to change?

Anyone can give up control.

These last words processed through his consciousness, and he realized they hadn't come from Mac.

Mac still groped around in Ross's chest, experimenting, trying to inflict one-way damage. But something in Ross cried out from the depths, trying to tell him something important. He shut Mac out and listened for the new voice.

Anyone can give up control. It's a choice, not a fight.

Meaning penetrated through fissures in Ross's protective shield.
It's a choice, not a fight
. How had he missed something so obvious?

Ross had already made his choice. He chose Tess.

He stopped fighting and stepped away from the cliff.

Mac noted the slackening of Ross's form. He uttered a cry of satisfaction, of triumph, over his opponent's surrender.

Ross let one hand fall to his side, resting the other against Mac's back. He applied no pressure. Used the contact as a focal point only for release.

Mac's body tensed. Ross felt the rush and rumble of the energy transfer, like an airplane gaining speed on the runway. Mac panicked and tried to fight. Ross kept still, watching from a distance as the force of the transfer ripped Mac away from the tarmac.

Ross filled his lungs with cool air and let his body root into the earth. This earth was not his own, but it recognized the life inside him and welcomed him. Ross stretched, fingers and toes tingling with energy.

One of two hearts stopped beating.

Ross opened his eyes and flung the dried-out husk away from him.

“Ross?” Tess's voice, trembling. Tess's face, pale with fear.

“Affirmative, Dr. Caufield.”

Her lips curved up in a smile. She collapsed on top of him.

*   *   *

“It's not good-bye, Jake.”

He sighed. “So you say. But people come. People go. This place is like Grand Central Station. You just never know.”

“I
do
know,” she replied, settling the back of her head into the solid warmth of Ross's chest. “We're going to tie up loose ends. Get the latest news. Do some planning with Abby. Next stop, Camp Electron.”

He rolled his eyes. “I was too clever for myself with that one. It's going to stick forever.”

She grinned. “You know it.”

“Be sure to contact the university, lass,” said Goff. “You may be able to get some help from the Koestler Unit. Because of their association with your Goff, I might be able to help you talk to them.”

“I'll most likely take you up on that, Professor. Thank you.”

Eva stepped closer and held out her hand. Then in midair she dropped it, smiling instead. “I look forward to working with you. And getting to know you better. I always wanted a sister.”

“So did I,” replied Tess.