The Lost Night (11 page)

“You’ve made that clear.”

He sat down across from her and opened his senses a little to luxuriate in the exotic, mysterious energy that she had brought with her into the small cabin.

She surveyed the room. “No one has lived here in a very long time.”

“This place is the property of the Foundation. In the old days there was a gatekeeper stationed here on the island, but we rarely use it now.”

Rachel looked amused. “For goodness’ sake, why did the Foundation need a gatekeeper? There aren’t any actual gates in the fence, are there?”

“Okay, in reality the gatekeeper functioned as a guard.”

“To protect the treasure?”

“Back in the day, no one at the Foundation was worried that someone might find the damn rocks. The problem was that people kept searching for a legendary treasure that never existed.”

She smiled. “The lure of pirate amber.”

“During the first few years after my great-grandfather’s legend started to circulate around the islands of the Amber Sea, a fair number of treasure hunters disappeared inside the Preserve, never to be seen again. To discourage the treasure
hunting, the Foundation experimented with keeping an armed guard stationed on the island for a time. It didn’t work well.”

“Treasure hunters tend to be the obsessive type.”

“Yes,” he said. “But eventually the Foundation techs came up with ways to enhance the effectiveness of the fence. It was decided that a guard was no longer necessary.”

“Rainshadow has always been forbidden territory. The tales of ghosts and monsters existed long before your ancestor came ashore to bury those crystals. They go back to the days of the First Generation explorers who mapped the Amber Sea islands and the Colonial-era fishermen who worked these waters.”

“That’s why my great-grandfather and North chose this place to bury the three stones,” he said. “They figured that even if someone did get past the energy fence, he or she probably wouldn’t be able to locate the treasure, let alone get out alive. Entire expeditions have disappeared into what is now the Preserve. The interior has never been mapped because the energy inside is so disorienting that compasses and other instruments don’t work. Can’t even get a visual fix on landmarks from the air because of the distortion created by the paranormal currents.”

Rachel watched him very steadily. “I’ve always wondered what made the first Harry Sebastian think that he could go through the psi barrier, bury his treasure, and find his way back to his ship.”

“He was a very powerful talent.”

“Strong talents have started appearing recently in the population, but, statistically
speaking, they’re still rare. They would have been a lot more scarce when your ancestor was working these waters. I’m guessing that the members of your family didn’t start developing psychic abilities after settling here on Harmony. Your First Generation ancestors were talents before they arrived, weren’t they?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Arcane?”

“No. The Sebastians have never been what you would call ‘joiners.’ What about your family?”

“My ancestors were members of the Arcane Society for generations back on Earth, but after they arrived on Harmony they lost contact with the organization. I think they just assumed that they wouldn’t need its protection and social connections any longer. They thought things would be different here for those with psychic talents.”

Harry smiled grimly. “They weren’t the only ones who believed that. Some things have definitely changed in the past two hundred years here on Harmony, but most strong talents still try to keep a low profile.”

“Power is power, and a person who possesses a lot of psychic talent tends to make other people nervous and with good reason. Some talents can do as much damage with their paranormal abilities as other folks can do with a knife or a mag-rez.”

“Are you quoting from the Principles or are you speaking from experience?”

“Both.” Shadows came and went in her eyes. “As far as I’m concerned, a powerful talent with a criminal mind is far more dangerous than a thug with a mag-rez. A strong psychic can
do a lot more harm before he’s caught.
If
he’s ever caught.”

“When was the last time you encountered a strong criminal psychic?”

“I met one during my short career at the Chapman Clinic.” She shuddered. “I still get cold chills when I think about Marcus Lancaster. But the worst part was that I couldn’t convince my superiors to listen to me. Lancaster has Dr. Oakford and the rest of the staff completely fooled.”

A flicker of intuition crackled through Harry. “Is that why you were let go? You disagreed with the staff’s professional diagnosis of Lancaster?”

“You knew I was fired?” She made a face. “Yes, of course you did. You’re in the security business. You would have done your research. To be honest, I don’t think I would have lasted long at Chapman, even if Lancaster had not been an issue. I didn’t fit into the clinical setting.”

“They didn’t appreciate your talent,” he said. He had never met Dr. Ian Oakford and probably never would, but he had an explicable urge to rip Oakford’s head off his shoulders.

But Rachel was suddenly laughing, a warm, bright, from-the-heart laugh that sent good energy swirling around the room.

“Nope,” she said. “Oakford did not appreciate or respect my talent. And really, how often does that happen in life?”

He smiled. “You’re right.”

“Let’s get back to your little problem.”

“My little problem?
”

“I’m aware of the history of the island before it was claimed by your family’s corporation,” Rachel said coolly. “But the details are very murky after that. The Rain-shadow Foundation has never been what anyone would call transparent about the way it manages the Preserve.”

“Mostly because there’s nothing to manage except the damn fence. You’re going to have to trust me when I tell you that we don’t know anything more about what is going on inside the Preserve than anyone else does. We’ve never had any control over the forces in the interior. All we can do is try to protect folks from themselves by keeping treasure hunters, adventurous kids, drunken boaters, and thrill-seekers out. We didn’t put up the first psi-fence, by the way.”

For the first time, Rachel looked startled. “Really?” “According to the records, there has always been a strong force field around most of the island.”

“It’s no secret that the island has always had a serious woo-woo factor, but I’ve never heard that there was an actual psi-fence around it before the Foundation took over.”

“That’s because the early one was only partially effective when it came to keeping humans out. My theory—and the experts at the Foundation agree with me—is that the Aliens installed the original psi barrier to keep their own kind out.”

“So it was set to the frequencies of Alien psi?” she asked.

“Sure. Why
would they have been concerned about a bunch of stranded colonists from some no-name planet who landed a couple of thousand years after they left? They never saw us coming.”

“Okay, your logic makes sense. The fence wasn’t originally tuned to human frequencies. Your point?”

“My point,” Harry said deliberately, “is that the Aliens must have erected the original energy fence for a reason, probably a very good reason.”

Rachel stilled. Her amber eyes heated with sudden comprehension. She pursed her lips and shook her head in wonderment.

“Now that,” she said carefully, “is a rather scary thought. What was inside the Preserve that was so important or so dangerous that the Aliens would have put up a high-tech psi-fence?”

“We don’t know and it didn’t seem to matter because until now, the Preserve has been quiet ever since my ancestor claimed the island. The assumption was that whatever had once been locked up on the other side of the boundary had died or disintegrated centuries ago.”

“Died or disintegrated?”

“We have no way of knowing what was locked up inside. Could have been animal, vegetable, or mechanical in nature.”

“I see,” she said.

“Remember, at this point it’s all wild speculation based on the existence of what we think was intended to be an energy fence. We could be wrong about our basic assumption. Whatever the case,
now that the currents are getting hot inside we need some answers and we need them fast.”

She frowned in thought. “But why would the Aliens have kept something that was vitally important to them here on an island in the middle of nowhere?”

“Good question. The para-archaeologists and other experts concluded years ago that something about the surface environment of Harmony was poisonous to the Aliens. That’s why they went underground and bioengineered an entire rain forest, and that’s why ninety percent of the ruins are down below in the catacombs.”

“Exactly. Everything that seems to have been crucial to their well-being is belowground, not up here on the surface.”

“Yet they paid special attention to this one lone island located in the middle of an unimportant chain of islands in a remote sea,” Harry said.

“Are you absolutely sure of that? There aren’t even any ruins on the island.”

“None that have been discovered yet,” Harry said. “But like the Underworld, most of Rainshadow has never been explored.”

“If the Foundation researchers believe that there was something very important happening inside, why haven’t they conducted some major expeditions into the Preserve?”

“Because very few of our people can get more than a hundred yards beyond the fence,” he said, “let alone conduct serious research. As I explained,
once inside, most instruments and high-tech equipment is useless.”

“Just like in the catacombs and the rain forest,” she said. “But you can come and go the way Slade can.”

“The deeper you go into the Preserve, the more powerful the currents become. Talents like Slade and me can go farther than most, but there are limits, even for us. None of the navigational instruments that have been developed for the catacombs and the rain forest can handle the heavy psi in the center of Rainshadow.”

She looked at the old files on the table. “So your plan to get answers starts with drawing up a list of people who might have the ability to go through the fence, is that it?”

“It’s a start.”

She raised her eyes to meet his. “Well, then, I guess you’ll have to put me at the top of your list. We know for a fact that I was not only able to go through the fence, I managed to find my way back out all by myself.”

He exhaled slowly, with perfect control. “Yes.”

Understanding lit her amber eyes.

“Oh,” she said. She gave him a cool smile. “I see. You already had me in the number-one spot on your list. That explains why you’ve asked for my help, isn’t it? This is a twist on the old advice to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

“Rachel, let me explain—”

The blast of rain struck with enough force to rattle the windows. Sheets of water cascaded down the glass. The flames flared on the hearth in response to sharp updrafts. The wind howled beneath the eaves. The
darkness outside was suddenly absolute. Thunder rumbled.

The lights flickered and went out.

“Oh, damn,” Rachel said. “I thought I had a couple of hours, at least, before the storm struck.”

Lightning flashed in the inky night, briefly illuminating the room. Harry got to his feet.

“Looks like you’re going to be here for a while,” he said. “The power’s out, so there goes a hot meal. Lucky I picked up enough cheese and crackers for two.”

Marcus lancaster hated every minute that he was forced to spend at the Chapman Clinic, but the nights were the worst.

During the day he was occupied, playing the model patient and able to take some pleasure in manipulating Oakford and the other members of the staff. But after dark he was alone in his locked room on a locked ward and he was consumed with thoughts of Rachel. She was his but she did not yet understand that essential fact. She needed to comprehend that she belonged to him, that although she was strong, he was more powerful. Her talent was his to control.

It had been weeks since she had been fired. The first few days after she had left had been hell. He had immediately begun planning his escape. The knowledge that Rachel was out in the world and out of his immediate control made him seethe with frustration. He had been ready to walk out the door of the clinic when his associate had contacted him and informed
him that Rachel was back on Rainshadow. The long-delayed project to retrieve the artifacts was going forward.

It was only the knowledge of the considerable risk involved in the Rainshadow operation that kept him here at the clinic. It made sense to let his associate take the fall in the event that the FBPI got involved, Marcus reminded himself. Being locked up here at the clinic would provide the perfect alibi if things went wrong. And given that so much had already gone wrong—a representative from the Foundation was now on the island—there was a strong possibility that the project would end in disaster.

His own personal survival was his first priority, and the best way to survive the failure of the Rainshadow operation was to remain right where he was.

But knowing that Rachel was beyond his control for now was almost too much to bear.

He stood at the small barred window of his room and looked out into the night. The ruins of the ancient Alien city glowed green in the heart of Frequency.

Not much longer now. One way or another the operation would soon be over and he would be free to claim Rachel.