The Cydonia Objective

Calderon.

He bent down and picked up the staff, then yelled for the guards to stop and back away, even as Caleb rushed him, lance up high.

“Dad, No!” Alexander yelled, and that stopped him, mid-swing.

Caleb froze, the spear point throbbing and pulsing in his grasp, just a few inches from Calderon’s smug face, pointing right between his eyes. His eyes… something that seemed odd. Off-putting and weirdly familiar about them.

Calderon opened his mouth, cleared his throat and was about to speak when Alexander, holding his forehead, eyes clenched tight, yelled: “The Tablet! Do it now, before—”

The machine hummed again, roaring now. Surging with a new burst of power.

“—before it fires! He’s changed the target, right at our feet now! Do it, do it, do it!”

Caleb stared from his boy, who was obviously in the midst of a vision, to the machine. Who was in there? Montross still? Someone—”

And for a brief instant he saw it too. Like a transparent page flitted over the backdrop, this one with an afterimage superimposed on it, an image of Mason Calderon seated like a god, head thrown back, mouth open, shouting out with all the power of the universe. The power that would rupture a world.

“Now,” right behind Caleb’s shoulder, whispered Calderon-who-wasn’t-Calderon.

And then, a flitting glimpse of a woman bathed in silver, just standing beside Alexander, as if her hand was on his shoulder; Lydia, here at the end when everything came down to Caleb, when all he had to do was trust.

But first, forgive and let go.

He closed his eyes. I’m sorry, one last time, I’m sorry, but no more. I must accept.

And act.

And four huge lunging steps brought him to the edge of the great chair, the machine whirling with plasma energy, trembling and shaking the foundations. He brought the Spear back, like an Olympic javelin thrower, and just as reality fluttered and Calderon appeared, roaring his protests in the other realm, Caleb thrust home the lance, slamming the point directly through the slot.

As it skewered the Emerald Tablet, a flash of light erupted and he was there, straddling both worlds. The dazzling golden spear thrust into the heart of the kaleidoscopically-shifting tablet, splitting it down the middle, through its multiple dimensions, then diagonally twice, forming a star shape.

All that knowledge, all the wisdom of millennia, the symbols, equations and mystic instructions… rending apart, shattering.

Caleb felt the wound as if he’d stabbed his own heart. It had to be done.

And besides, came a voice that wasn’t his. There are other routes to knowledge. And a succession of majestic structures hurtled through his vision: great pillared repositories set in the unlikeliest of settings: lunar monasteries, crimson landscapes, frozen wastes under alien stars.

It’s all out there, waiting for us.

Caleb shoved the spear in farther, twisted, then wrenched it free.

“NOOO!” Calderon shouted in his mind, and reached for him, but Caleb swung the spear free in a wide arc, slashing Calderon’s ethereal form across the neck. A disembodied, glowing head went sailing into the gloom just as the tablet exploded with such force that Caleb was hurled ten feet back, just as the machine tore apart and pieces scattered in all directions.

Gasping, dropping the spear which was now too hot to hold, his fingers scalded, Caleb stood up, only to be surrounded by six soldiers pointing MP5s at his face.

“Stop!” yelled Senator Calderon, now leaning on his cane, standing over Isaac’s body. “It’s over,” he said. Not to the guards, not to Jacob or Nina or Alexander, but to Caleb.

“It’s over,” he said again, and added a wink and a smile.

Alexander raced past him and slid by the guards to throw his arms around Caleb. “Dad!” Then, lower: “Don’t worry, I saw it all.”

Calderon’s voice cracked then sounded more urgent as he addressed the guards. “Go, get medical help.” He leaned down beside Nina, and curiously, took her hand in his. Through glazed eyes, she smiled at him. Jacob knelt beside his brother and bowed his head.

Caleb stood up warily. “What the hell is going on?”

Alexander pulled on his arm, and when Caleb bent down, Alexander whispered in his ear.

Then Calderon turned, reached over and closed Xavier Montross’ eyelids. “Sleep tight, old friend.” He stood, faced Caleb and spread out his arms, as if feeling for the fit of a new suit.

“I don’t believe it.” Caleb just stared, wide-eyed.

“He’s right, my dear half-brother. Not a bad trade overall.” Xavier Montross, speaking through his new flesh, grinned. “And now that I’m a powerful senator, things are going to go a little differently.”

12.

Seattle, Washington—12 Hours Later

When Caleb finally left the hospital room, it was only after a promise, doubly made, that he would not leave Nina this time. That he’d be back to check on her in a few hours.

“And besides,” Caleb had said, leaning over and brushing her dark curls away from those penetrating eyes that for the first time displayed a sense of weakness, “Jacob wants to spend some time getting to know you.”

He had backed up, and then let the boy come closer. Jacob pulled up a chair and leaned in, eager to hear more of his mother’s stories, the ones she could tell just by touching him, with little effort.

Caleb eased the door shut behind him, and went to the conference room that Colonel Temple had secured for their use and debriefing. Temple had his arm in a sling, and the others were all in some form of recovery: bandages, tired eyes, covered in dust and filth.

“Looks like we could all use a good hosing down and a night’s sleep at the Ritz,” Temple said, “but that’ll have to wait.”

Phoebe came over and gave Caleb another big hug. “Good to have you back, big brother.”

Caleb squeezed her tight, then let go and nodded to Orlando. He shook hands with Diana Montgomery and offered the same to the girl, Aria, but she merely high-fived him and went back to whispering and giggling to Alexander, who was blushing profusely.

“Alexander? Made a new friend, I see.” Caleb took a seat across from his son, who just grinned sheepishly. “It’s okay,” Caleb said, “just stay where I can see the both of you. If you’re out of my sight and I go looking and only see blue, I’m going to be mad.”

Phoebe kicked him under the table.

Orlando, finishing his second Red Bull, licked his lips and grinned foolishly at Phoebe. “Still, I may have to borrow your talents, Miss Hummingbird, from time to time.”

Phoebe glared at him. “Don’t you dare try to hide from me. Or I’ll go dig up that Spear—wherever you hid it, big brother. Seriously, I’ll find it and—”

Just then, the door banged open.

And Senator Calderon walked in, closing the door behind him.

“Ah, good. You’re all here.” He walked inside, leaning slightly on a new cane, this one carved from a knobby pine. “Stupid limp. Guy should’ve taken better care of himself.”

Smiling at Diana, he took a seat beside her, and after a moment she took his hand in hers.

“This is going to take some getting used to,” she said.

“I’ll get his body in better shape,” Montross promised.