Stones: Experiment (Stones #3) (35 page)

M
att looks at his blue skin.

Words and images float through his mind like random pieces of a puzzle.

In his mind’s eye, he sees a blonde-haired woman with blue eyes in a colorful kimono. Her skin has an unusual golden luster.

Jhata.

Another image. An old man stands over him. A bubble of blue energy envelops Matt, separating him from the man. A glass sphere lies near Matt’s feet. He tries to move it, but it won’t budge. He breathes in, but there’s no air. No oxygen. The man laughs, taunting him.

Ryzaard.

Across a green field, near the trunk of an ancient cedar tree, a lone woman stands. She cradles a long silver tube in her arms, balancing the end against her shoulder. She takes aim and fires.

Jessica.

The freedom camp outside Vancouver, full of people.

Must help them. Save them.

Men in combat gear pouring out of an insect-like attack ship. Laser cannons flash. Hundreds die. Soldiers move forward, searching, killing.

Where’s Jessica? Promised not to leave. Have to get back.

Sparks shoot out of Ryzaard’s Stones. Unbearable pain.

The blue bubble disappears. Air rushes in. He craves it, thirsts for it, his chest heaving. He looks up into Jhata’s eyes.

A flash of light, and then darkness.

He floats in a thick liquid. It fills his mouth but has no taste. He chokes and pulls it into his lungs. Jhata talks to him, her voice growing fainter and fainter, moving farther and farther away.

You will forget who you are. What you are. It will all be stripped away, layer by layer, as long as the drug courses through your veins.

Jessica’s eyes close, her arms around a small child, as he sprints away to the green field.

Never leave her again.

Hideous demons dance past him ready to pounce. One rushes forward, slamming into his body.

It’s absorbed through the skin.

The rest of the beasts lunge at him, ripping, tearing, feeding.

Use your armor. It will protect you from the poison. Press on your chest. Right here.

He pounds his fists against the side of the sphere.

A shift in his mind.

The images fade away like a receding tide. Confusion and chaos gives way to order. And peace.

Matt looks at his hands as they pound against the glass. Something is
good
about them. Something he hasn’t felt in a long time. His eyes drop to the fingers of his right hand.

He’s gripping a Stone.

W
ithout a word, Jhata grabs Yarah’s hand, and they vanish, reappearing in the great room in front of the two spherical tanks.

A still body drifts gently inside each one.

“Why did we come here?” Yarah pulls on Jhata’s hand. “I want to go back to the chocolate factory.”

Jhata lets go and walks to the tank on the right. “Wait just a minute. I need to take a closer look.” She stares at the vague figure of Matt floating in the thick solution, his eyes closed. At first, she can’t put her finger on it, but something is different. She strains to see if he holds an object in his hand, but can’t tell. Opening her mind, she reaches out to his.

Who are you?

It should have been like shouting into an empty well, with no response except for the echo of her own thoughts.

Then it comes to her in a flash of understanding.

Matt is covered in blue. Somehow, he has activated his skin armor. The drugs are no longer being absorbed through the skin.

He’s remembering who he is. His mind and memories are flooding back.

Before she can react, his eyes flip open.

You know who I am.

An arc of purple lightning shoots out of the Stone in Matt’s right hand. In a shower of sparks, the glass sphere bursts open in two neat halves, like an Easter egg falling apart. The fluid inside explodes out, great gobs of gelatinous goop covering the walls, floor and everything else within a few meters.

Including Jhata.

Coughing violently, Matt stands alone on the pedestal where the sphere had balanced and ejects streams of liquid from his lungs through his mouth.

Jhata stumbles back, her fairy godmother dress soaked and sticky, covered in the semi-liquid. For an instant, the drugs pass through her perfect skin into her bloodstream and course through her veins.

Memories begin to slip from her brain.

Gathering all her strength and focus, she closes her eyes and goes inward, pushing back the onslaught of forgetfulness, neutralizing the poison. The billowing dress disappears from her body, replaced by a tight black kimono with a large spider embroidered in multi-colored crystal on the back and front.

She is herself again.

It all takes less than five seconds, but in that span of time the distraction forces her to let down her mental guard, dropping the impenetrable barriers that protect her from Yarah’s constant scrutiny.

And Yarah gets through.

The little girl sees Matt. Her eyes are wide with confusion as she backs away from Jhata.

“Don’t leave me, child.” Jhata’s eyes focus on Matt with his blue skin.

He steps from the pedestal onto the wet floor, liquid still draining from his face and body.

“Thanks for the armor.” Matt moves to the right, closer to the other tank, never taking his eyes off Jhata.

She stands erect and still only a few meters away, lustrous skin, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance.” Jhata reaches to her belt and removes a Stone with each hand.

Matt brings his Stone up to the middle of his chest. “You should have done a lot of things when you had the chance.” He turns and glances at the inside of the tank next to him. The fuzzy form of a slender young man drifts in its interior.

“Who do you have in there?”

“It’s Leo.” Yarah takes her Stone out of her pocket and grips it tightly, moving in a long arc past Jhata, slowly making her way closer to Matt. “He got sick, so she put him in there. She said it would make him better.”

Matt glances at Yarah to his left. “I’m sure she said a lot of things to you. All lies.”

“Remember what I said about the jaguars?” Jhata relaxes her face into a smile. “All of that is true. Everything I’ve shown you is real. You and I are different from the others. We’re different from Matt and Leo and Jessica. We don’t need them. We can work together, mother and child. Forever happy. Forever strong. Isn’t that what you want?”

“But I saw inside you.” A pained look crosses Yarah’s face. Tears stream down her cheeks. “You kill people. You burn their worlds. You’re not really a fairy godmother, are you? You don’t really love me, do you?”

Jhata turns to Yarah, reaching out her hand. “Please understand, child. Everything you saw was necessary. All of those people stood in my way. They were evil. They wanted to stop me, deny me my rights, take away my power.” She turns and looks behind her. “Like Matt and Leo. They don’t understand how special we are, how special
you
are.”

“Don’t listen to her, Yarah.” Matt puts his hand on the smooth glass of the other sphere without taking his eyes off Jhata. “Jhata is selfish and evil. She tricked you. She doesn’t want you to know who she really is.”

Jhata smiles warmly at the child. “Matt doesn’t want you to be happy. He thinks
he
knows what is right, but he’s wrong. He wants to hold you back. He wants to tell you what to do. He won’t let you do what you want. He won’t let you use the full power of your Stone.”

As Jhata speaks, Yarah’s gaze drifts over to Matt.

Jhata senses Matt reaching out to Yarah, opening his mind to her.

Images from Matt flood into Jhata’s mind.

Yarah is dressed in dirty rags back in the
favela
outside of Rio de Janeiro. A man, Yarah’s father, tries to take her and hurt her. Matt scares him away, protecting Yarah, holding his hand out to her. She comes close. He wraps his arms around her. His tenderness and affection for her overflow.

Words flow out from Matt’s mind.

Love is real. Trust it. Embrace it. Let it fill your heart, envelop your mind. Real love doesn’t hurt people.

The emotion emanating from Matt is like a magnet. Jhata senses the emptiness within herself. Yarah is pulled away by Matt’s love, feeding on it, taking it in.

Matt is using his love as a
weapon
.

Jhata raises her arms. “Listen to me, child. There
is
no such thing as love. It’s a lie. A way to control you. A way to make you give up your power. Don’t trust it. Don’t let Matt trick you.”

As Jhata monitors Matt’s thoughts, he forms an image of a Woman with overpowering affection. Jhata immediately recognizes her as one of the Allehonen. Oneness and love radiate from the Woman and well up inside Matt’s mind like a bubbling spring of clear water, filling and expanding inside him.

In desperation, Jhata tries to stop it, but she can’t. All she can do is hover in his mind, sensing what he senses.

A palpable warmth washes through Matt. He sees the faces of people in his life, starting with Jessica, his mother and father. Yarah and Leo. Past classmates and friends. Little John. Jake the blind man, killed by Ryzaard, like his father.

The images flow without end.

Jhata tries to leave Matt’s mind, to escape the unending
love
that courses through him. But it exercises a pull upon her, holding her in its grip.

Matt’s love has become something tangible.

Jhata tries to push it back, but it engulfs and overwhelms her, flowing over and through her.

She is drowning in an infinite ocean.

Love wells up inside Matt for all the people in his life that he ever thought of as enemies. The bully that gave him a black eye when he was a junior in high school. The man next door that always slammed the door or dropped the blinds when Matt walked by. The kids that made fun of Matt for having a Japanese mother.

Claustrophobia overtakes Jhata.

The face of Ryzaard floats up in Matt’s consciousness. Flames of hatred flare up for an instant as he sees the old man staring at him, laughing and kicking, enjoying the pain he inflicts. But it soon passes, overwhelmed by a surge of pity and empathy.

Even Ryzaard is worthy of love.

And then it’s over.

Jhata is released from the grip of Matt’s mind. She stumbles backward, hands on her head, body racked with aching.

Love drains from her body like water through a sieve.

A
presence leaves Matt’s mind.

Someone grabs his left hand, pulling him forward. Opening his eyes, Yarah is at his side, looking up, smiling. He bends and scoops her into his arms, balancing her slight weight on his hip.

“So, my child, you have made your choice?” Jhata says.

They both turn to look at Jhata, and Yarah slowly nods her head.

“You will regret this, my child. So much potential. All of it wasted.”

Matt hears Yarah’s voice distinctly in his mind.

We can love her, too.

Following the child’s lead, Matt opens himself to Jhata, still dressed in a black kimono and standing only meters away.

He sees her as a spoiled child of emotionally distant parents, awesome power forced upon her with no guidance or restraint. He sees her search for meaning and purpose. Her intense loneliness.

Love and understanding overflow from both Matt and Yarah until it encompasses even Jhata. Words flow from Matt’s mind.

Join with us. Sever your ties with the past. Use your power for good. Become one of us.

“No!” Jhata shouts. “I don’t want your pity! I don’t need your lies!”

“Don’t reject what we offer,” Matt says. “You made a choice once. You can change that. Now it’s time for you to
choose again
.”

“I can play the same game you are.” Taking two steps back, Jhata stands firm with hands on hips, eyes shaded in deep creases.

As if a dam is breaking, floods of malice and hurt engulf Matt. A rising tide of venom and hatred, nursed and nourished over multiple millennia, throws itself over him like a chilling shadow blocking the warmth of the sun.