The Twelve Stones (34 page)

Pushed back in his chair by the acceleration, Alex was unnerved to watch the
j
oystick serving as the steering wheel move without any human hands.

“Look
,
Ma,
” Scott cried out, “
n
o hands!!”

The Hypertruck’s doors closed, locking the trio inside
.
T
he
engine
spun silently
as the truck moved quietly through the night, away from the destruction at JPL, and towards the possibility of answers.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Hypertruck
’s silence was almost unsettling
as it weaved quickly through the early morning Los Angeles traffic. It was still early, just after four in the morning, so most commuters were still snug in bed
—
and thankfully so, Alex thought to himself, watching the joystick in front of him gyrate back and forth as Scott’s truck maneuvered completely under computer control.

With every turn, bump and rustle, Alex
stared at the computer
nearly white with fear,
waiting for the silicon chips contained within to betray them all and run the truck over the side of the nearest canyon. But Molly stayed obediently quiet as she purred quietly north, taking the two men and their new friend towards the Bay Area.

“
You sure this thing is safe?” Alex asked nervously as he watched the Hypertruck smoothly pass
a
slow
-
moving semi-trailer. The truck had the unnerving ability to sense exactly where every car was on the road
,
and would calculate the most efficient routes in order to avoid a collision. The unfortunate part was
that
the sensors were only calibrated to see things within six feet of the Truck - a perfectly acceptable margin of error
,
Scott had assured him. Even so, Alex winced every time the Hypertruck weaved on its own accord, no human at the controls.

The sensors were mounted on all sides of the truck. Each second the truck was operating, the sensors were active, constantly detecting exactly where every car around it was, to the millimeter. Trillions of bits of information were streaming constantly towards a central onboard computer (which Scott had insisted they get on the ground and
check out,
underneath the truck
,
in an admirable bit of nerdiness
)
.
T
hat information was
then
processed into various instructions to the gas, brakes and steering.

As a result, the Hypertruck sped quickly through the traffic, the sensors acting as virtual bumper guards. What the Hypertruck lacked in noise, it more than made up in power as it purred up Interstate 5, slowing occasionally and maneuvering quickly around the slower cars and semi-trucks.

Alex again clenched the dashboard in terror as
the Hypertruck
approached the bumper of a BMW
,
going nearly ninety miles an hour. Only at the last second did the Hypertruck change lanes and spe
e
d past it
,
leaving a bewildered Chinese businessman shaking his fist at the strange
-
looking vehicle.

“
See?” Scott said, “You’re being paranoid. It’s fine. The onboard computer does all the work
;
there’s no chance of a crash, and if need be
…
”

Scott took hold of the joystick and tapped a few buttons. The Hypertruck’s female voice came softly out of the speakers
.
“Auto-drive disengaged.”

“
…
I can always take control
,
” Scott said as Alex began to relax his death grip on the door handle
.
Scott
turned to Siobhan
.
“He always worried too much in high school
,
too.”

Alex ignored the dig. They didn’t have time for reminiscing. “How far to Hat Creek?” he asked impatiently.

“
Well,” Scott drawled as he began tapping the GPS on the center console, “
a
t
an average speed of
90
to
95
miles per hour, barring any serious traffic, we’ll probably get up there by ten.”

“
Six hours?” Alex asked incredulously
.
“That’s unbelievable.”

“
No
,
my friend,” Scott replied, “
t
hat’s technology.”

Alex turned back towards Siobhan
,
who
had so far
remained quiet.

“
So,” Alex asked her, his eyes examining her, “
you promised us a story, what’s
your deal?”

“
It’s a long
one
…”
s
he
said vaguely, her eyes sad.

“
You heard Scott
;
we’ve got a few hours. No time like the present
,
don’t you think?”

Siobhan sighed, staring out the window.

“
How old do you think I am?”
s
he
asked suddenly.

Alex shrugged, “I dunno, 27 or 28. I’ve never been that good…”

“
Two months from now, or so I reckon anyway,” she interrupted, “I’ll be celebrating my
476
th birthday, and the lady thanks you for your kind guess.” She smiled sweetly at Alex’s gaping jaw.

“
The stone keeps you young. Or at least…” Siobhan sighed, “
’
r
ound
the age you were when you first found it.”

Alex shook his head. “That’s not possible
.
I’ve found this stone since I was ten years old, and look at me
;
I’m no adolescent.”

“
You wouldn’t know it if you saw him in the shower
,
though,” Scott interjected quickly, a smirk on his face. Alex shot him a look. This wasn’t the time.

Siobhan cocked her head, her eyes crinkling in disbelief. “You’ve held onto the stone for this entire time?”

Alex’s face grew hot as he realized what the woman had meant. “No, my dad stashed it somewhere while I was growing up. Last night was the first time I’d seen it since that day we…” Alex nodded to Scott, “found it in the forest behind my house.”

Siobhan nodded. “The stone seems to rejuvenate you so long as you stay within a close proximity. I’ve worn it as an earring for a good hundred years now. Before that, I’d keep it close, in a pocket, grasped in my fist and the like. Over the last four hundred years or so, I aged slowly, depending on how close I kept the rock to me. It’s why I look like I’m in my twenties now and not eleven years old, like I was when I first found the rock.”

“
The rock?” Alex asked.

She stared out the window again, watching the lights of the city
streak past
. Taking a breath, she began her story…

Chapter Twenty-Five

Siobhan crouched, watching as the waves began to wash back into the ocean.
As she helped
her brother gather the nets, they
both
heaved mightily, hauling them back onto shore, hoping there would be a decent catch.

The fishing had been good this season, which made Siobhan happy. Some days they could be out here for several hours, hauling the heavy nets back and forth, trawling the waves for enough fish to feed their village and families for the day. Some days the basket they used to keep the fish in was filled quickly. Other days, it would take much longer.

Siobhan didn’t mind the work; she loved the outdoors, smelling the ocean breeze in her native Ireland. At only eleven years old, Siobhan was beginning to find herself caught between two worlds. The first, where she had lived for the first ten years of her life felt unspoiled, where food had always been plentiful and love unconditional. Now, as she grew older, she was beginning to understand that life was not so easy, and to fear the cruel English soldiers who constantly harassed her friends and family
,
making their lives miserable.

“
Oi!” Her brother Seamus called out. “Watch the net there
.
I
t’s
about to snap!”

Siobhan
focused
on the net, shaking it to free it from a rock that had caught an errant loop. With any luck, this last cast
w
ould
have enough fish to fill their basket
,
which would
bring an end to their workday
.

Off in the distance, a low boom sounded, making Siobhan look back towards the green hills where their village lay hidden.

“
Seamus!” She cried.

“
What?”

“
Did you hear that?”

“
Just God playing a bit of the ten pins, is all
,
”
h
e
replied in good humor. Nothing ever bothere
d her brother, a tall, six-foot
Irishman with flaming red hair, a trait everyone in their family shared. His eyes were filled with laughter, his wit always ready with a good joke. He lived to hear his sister laugh, and she loved that about him.

The net, lying out on the beach, was now filled with several large flopping fish. Stepping carefully around the net, Siobhan and her brother began gathering their haul, putting them into the basket they brought along.

“
Tis’ a fine catch today
,
” Seamus said, smiling at his little sister.

“
Would momma make biscuits tonight?” Siobhan asked. It was a rare thing when they had biscuits for dinner nowadays. Two months ago, just as winter was about to fall on the tiny nation, the English had traipsed through their village
,
claiming most of the village’s flour for their army regulars. Neither of them had seen a biscuit in nearly six weeks.

“
Biscuits as big as your head!” He smiled broadly, winking at her.

“
No
,
they aren’t!” Siobhan protested hotly, as only an eleven year old could do when they knew people were making fun of them.

Together, they finished putting away the nets and began walking back to the village. A few miles down the road, Siobhan began to see the smoke from the village campfires and smiled big. The basket of fish they were carrying was heavy
,
and she was ready to put it down.

When Siobhan pointed out the smoke to her brother, Seamus grew very quiet, watching the thick smoke billow up from their small village. His sister couldn’t have known, but it was far too much smoke for a few simple campfires. Seamus had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach
.
S
omething was incredibly wrong down there
; he was certain of that
.

Before he could say anything, Siobhan dropped her side of the basket and began skipping down the road that led to their village.

“
Siobhan!” Seamus cried out. “Wait a tic.”

Siobhan obediently stopped, waiting for her big brother. “Come on! I’m hungry, and they already have the dinner fire going.”

Seamus swallowed and looked down, hoping she wouldn’t notice the fear that was getting harder and harder to hide.

“
I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you go and pick some Ox-Eyes for mum, and I’ll finish taking the fish down to the village.”

“
All right!” Siobhan cried happily, and she scampered off into a nearby field full of wildflowers.

Seamus watched his little sister go into the field and busy herself examining each flower like a bee searching for perfect pollen.
Whatever kept her from getting hurt, he thought.
Another low boom echoed across the valley, and without having to take another step, Seamus knew his village was lost. As carefully as he could without being spotted, Seamus moved closer to the village. As he approached
,
he could see several dozen English throwing lit torches all over his family and friend’s thatch houses.

“
Bastards!”
h
e
swore to himself. Turning
,
he saw Siobhan waving at him from the field.

Running back to her, he grabbed her arm and picked her up, leaving the basket of fish as he ran as fast as he could away from their village.