Known Afterlife (The Provider Trilogy, Volume One) Page 4

  Grimlock, on the other hand, had chosen the obvious and only entry his chute presented, forcing him down a tight passage similar to the one Steffor had deftly avoided. Grimlock would be far behind both he and Vejax come the first amphitheater, but he had passed the first test that will reward him with the opportunity to make up ground, assuming he lasted long enough to see it.

  Steffor entered the first amphitheater like a projectile shot from a rifling barrel. The excited crowd met his arrival with a heady dose of raw Source, a sensation akin to slicing through a massive cloud of ether. Steffor spread arms and legs wide, slowing his descent long enough to locate his chute reentry found catty-corner to his entrance. Milliseconds later, he experienced firsthand the impact of Vejax's expansive power.

  Having emerged from his own entrance a second after Steffor, the crafty veteran drafted a few inches behind, perfectly timing his jarring and potentially fatal pulse of Source. Steffor had anticipated this move, but underestimated the Teuton's aggressive power, the impact instantly launching Steffor a hundred yards down and to the right. If not for Steffor's last second counter punch, used to deflect Vejax's power and project him in the direction of his reentry, he would have smashed into the surrounding stands.

  Despite events transpiring as envisioned, his first direct clash with Vejax startled Steffor in ways he had not anticipated. He gathered the Source around him, hovered in midair for the briefest of seconds, and collected his frazzled thoughts. The multi-level, beehive shaped amphitheater disappeared and the roar of the packed stands faded as Steffor connected to inner self.

  Vejax's power will only grow stronger. This is the first and easiest of three amphitheater confrontations and Grimlock has yet to come into play. You cannot allow the sensation to consume you. Do not lose sight of what you know to be true. It’s visceral; to believe otherwise means certain failure.

  Driven by the fear of not achieving all he was capable more than death itself, Steffor returned to the present, aligned himself toward his reentry with a forward one-and-a-half somersault and darted through the upper right quadrant of his chute. Once clear of the free falling, wide-open, spectator-filled stadium, Steffor’s confidence returned within the relative closed quarters of the dive chute. In the chute, it was just him and the Provider's body.

  True to his harvest Shifter heritage, Steffor embraced the challenging second leg of his chute with hard labor efficiently. He pounded his way down the compact network of branches, so tightly shifted that many of the openings were only inches wider than his shoulders, punching the Provider to make room when needed. By the time he reached the next amphitheater, Steffor was in a full sweat and clear of mind.

  The three Guardians emerged simultaneously into the second amphitheater, with Steffor coming from the right, Grimlock from the left and Vejax in the center. Steffor located his reentry in the opposite corner. Grimlock faced the same while Vejax's was directly below him. Steffor assessed the flight angle of his competitors compared to his own and calculated that their paths would intersect directly in the middle, configured perfectly for a three-way head on collision.

  The knowing look on the faces of Vejax and Grimlock led him to conclude they had surmised the same fate. Given their respective trajectories, reentry locations and experience, the situation represented a huge advantage for Vejax. A reality Steffor was certain Vejax was very cognizant. The outcome of this crucial juncture dictated who would become this year's dive champion.

  He sensed both Guardians gather in the Source, preparing for the inevitable impact only seconds away. Steffor had started the same process of drawing in the Source but then, without clear reason, he hesitated. As was the case with every vision he desired to manifest in his life, the "how" it would materialize always remained blurry, sitting at the edge of his inner sight.

  For the how things worked out within the laws governing his physical reality was not his concern. His responsibility was to act and follow the signs when presented. With devout conviction, Steffor committed to living his life according to this simple rule long ago, having come to trust the Deeds and their sacred message: the Provider is in you, and through you he will show the way.

  Steffor dove deep into his core, slowing time to merge logical thoughts with supernatural instincts. Learning from his last run in with Vejax, Steffor concluded he could not win a one-on-one collision with the man, not to mention the combined influence of Grimlock. Yet, to make it through this juncture, he must go through each of them. Going around was not an option, the concussion of their impact would surely throw Steffor way off course, ending any chance he might have at winning. The thought of cocooning himself in his garments, encapsulated by a dense layer of protective Source came to mind, but he knew it would not be enough to stay on course and make his reentry.

  Still lacking any solution, fear crept into Steffor’s frantic mind as his ability to hold off the very fast approaching future waned. Faith! The thought sliced through his consciousness, shedding new light on the Provider's message: Join me and fulfill your destiny. Let fear rule you and failure is certain. The words caressed his soul and brought a knowing smile to his face. Juxtaposing back to the present, Steffor braced for impact.

  If he had chosen to send his own burst of the Source into the foray, a void between the three Guardians would have formed at the point of impact. Vejax, leveraging his superior skill and power, would have maneuvered through the void while deflecting both Steffor and Grimlock way off course. Steffor's plan, in lieu of shifting his own burst of the Source, was to aim his body toward the void he predicted would occur between Vejax and Grimlock.

  Steffor fought the impulse to flinch, ignoring the wailing child buried deep within the recess of his mind. Teeth clenched, unable to shut eyes despite the urgent yearning, he barreled into the point of impact as both Guardians unleashed the Source. The concussion ripped through Steffor's body and pain was all that registered for the briefest moment. Certain he could not withstand another agonizing second; pain abruptly gave way to bliss. United with the Provider, an experience immeasurable by time or space, he loved everything more than he perceived possible in that instant.

  He returned to the material plane, bestowed with the power to absorb the Source of both Vejax and Grimlock. He let go of all defensive thought and in doing so found endless strength. Before anyone could understand what had happened, Steffor slipped effortlessly between the pair, flying on a perfect trajectory toward his dive chute.

  To everyone's amazement, Vejax and Grimlock managed to dodge the other and stay on their original course, hitting their reentry several seconds behind Steffor. Joy consumed Steffor as he sensed his competitors were too far behind to catch-up. "I've done it!" He shouted despite being in the midst of the most challenging stretch of dive chute he had ever faced. It’s over, the rest does not matter, he thought with unwavering faith, effortlessly choosing one correct path after the other. With tears of triumph streaking down his face, basking in the higher power now guiding him, Steffor’s heart swelled with gratitude as he reached the final strait away to peer the expansive Deagron Fields far below.

  The sudden appearance of the thirty-foot wide branch directly blocking his exit was not the result of crafty camouflage. One second it was simply not there, the next it was. The "how" it appeared was irrelevant at the time of discovery given Steffor's speed and distance from it. There was no time to do anything but react. Reverting back to his physical surroundings—the euphoric events experienced only moments before stinging like the echo of a cruel joke—Steffor punched the branch with all the Source he could muster. Right before entering the dark abyss of his mind, he knew it would not be enough.

  Chapter 4

  Stalling tried to meditate to the rhythmic beat of his leather loafers pounding the marble floor. He knew the best way to collect his thoughts was to remove them first but he was struggling to apply the practice. And time was something he no longer had at his disposal.

  Like a blindsided bladeball block, his con
tentious meeting with Clortison knocked loose the answer to the question plaguing his thoughts. As was the case with all the big questions in life, the answers always seemed so obvious once revealed. Knowing it provided nothing positive to the process of figuring out a solution, Stalling still chastised himself for not seeing the answer prior to this moment.

  He was grateful for the long passage between his private office and the main campus. The trip provided much needed time to sort out his next steps. He took a few moments to soak in the lush, evergreen rain forest surrounding the transparent hallway and refocused his attention on his footsteps echoing off the glass walls.

  Relax. You still have time. You are only presented challenges you are equipped to handle. Trust your process.

  One by one, Stalling released the positive thoughts, each floating away as if a bubble caught in a slow breeze, deliberately clearing his slate of consciousness, the echo of his comfortable shoes down the long hallway the only thought entering his mind. When he arrived at the entrance fifteen minutes later, his apprehension about upcoming events, while still present, had diminished. Stalling paused in front of the door, worked his neck and shoulders loose and took a deep breath. Driven by the fear of failure, Stalling walked through the door.

  He connected his link visor back online and immediately synced with Antone. "Stop what you are doing, meet me in the lab."

  "I'm here now. Where are you? I've been trying to reach you for the past twenty minutes."

  "I'm ten minutes away, what's going on?"

  "Jennifer asked me to review some unusual readings; I sent them to you a few minutes ago." Stalling quickly downloaded the file located in the upper right hand quadrant of his view screen. "I have only been studying them for a few minutes now but so far I cannot not find any previous data to explain things," Antone said with a note of anxiety.

  The readings corroborated Stalling's newfound conclusions. He was downloading the data so fast he forgot about Antone waiting for his reply. "I know what this all means. I need you, Jennifer and Janison in the lab to discuss."

  "Understood, I'll locate Janison." Antone severed his link. Stalling did not think Janison would show, nor was he prepared to handle him if he did, but was sure whatever involvement he played going forward was important. Sadly, the most important issue at hand was not the double-crossing of his closest friend. The final and most important piece of his covert enterprise was in real jeopardy of never materializing. All the progress made over the past decade would amount to nothing without the completion of this final step.

  Stalling ignored the people hustling from one place to the other as he crossed the small park. He greatly desired to avoid speaking to anyone prior to reaching the lab, so he chose to walk along the well-manicured lawn interspersed with small tree groves, versus one of the many intersecting sidewalks. Stalling always made himself approachable but conditioned those who chose to do so to be direct and honest in their intentions. This communication skill was the first qualification, no matter what the position or field of expertise may be, required by anyone considering employment with Alterian Enterprises. Typically, his presence on campus was an open invitation for anyone to approach him. Today, he needed to avoid that type of interaction.

  He quickened his pace and managed to reach the lab entrance without incident. He stepped into the security booth, waited patiently for the scan to identify him, and then hurried through the six inch thick steel doors before they finished parting.

  Stalling saw Antone's stocky build halfway down the descending corridor, the sheen of sweat coating his stubbled, balding head glinting off the soft lighting as he paced from one side of the hall to the other. He could tell by the animated hand gestures and neurotic movements that Antone was barking orders to someone over his visor. Antone, seeing Stalling approach, promptly ended the conversation and turned to meet him.

  "Did you find Janison?" Stalling inquired.

  "No. He is off-line and does not show up on the grid. I just sent people to search."

  "Where is Jennifer?"

  "She's in the lab," he said, gesturing with his head toward the entrance at the bottom of the corridor. "Describing her as anxious to speak with you would be an understatement."

  "That does not surprise me," Stalling said, already moving toward the entrance.

  "Before we go, there is something you need to be made aware of." Antone’s tone indicated it was important. His Chief Operating and Security Officer did not mix words and had an impeccable talent for getting to the point, bringing only the most vital events to Stalling’s attention.

  "OK. Lay it on me," Stalling said.

  "After observing Janison, both in person and online, display several odd behaviors as of late, I chose to investigate further. After three months of surveillance, none of his actions alone merited suspicion but as the frequency increased my gut told me something was not right."

  Stalling empathized with Antone's difficulty in communicating this news. Investigating the second in command at Alterian Enterprises was not a choice Antone would have made lightly. Stalling was overwhelmed with gratitude in that moment, comforted on many levels by the man’s presence in his life. What if I ignored the impulse to take a chance on Antone so many years ago?"

  "So what did you discover?" Stalling asked, level and under self-control.

  "More than I imagined possible. Sir, we have been compromised."

  Chapter 5

  Repulsed by his dormancy, Steffor longed for the sleek forearm breaking the mercurial surface. But he hesitated, reluctant to leave his nurturing oasis, fighting the impulse to grab hold of the outstretched hand groping blindly for his being. Immersed in an ocean of spiritual unity, barren of individual thought or emotion, the swirling depths below beckoned him to stay.

  I have been here before, many lifetimes ago. This I am certain. But I willingly chose to depart from this plane of existence. So why have I returned?

  Not only had Steffor chosen to return but he did so with reckless abandon, as if a child jumping into a knot pond on a hot summer's day. Erased from memory was the means in which he arrived but the unanswered question as to why he came back at all prevented his second departure. Why, without hesitation, did he trade his identity to merge with this formless nirvana?

  The gaseous plane, inhabited by beings of amber light, diffused into a blissful whole, had revived his soul with its simple but abundant energy. But the ability to distinguish his being from the ignorant yet blissful mass had waned. It was time to leave, to return from where he had been, and instinct screamed the flailing arm before him was his one shot at escape.

  Taking one last pull of the sweet energy, Steffor stretched the limits of his willpower and grasped the slender forearm. With one assertive motion, his rescuer pulled him free.

  Steffor emerged from his healing slumber to appear back atop his dive platform, surrounded by suffocating smog. Disoriented, he gasped and coughed as the acrid fumes burned the senses. A second later, his garments reacted, encasing head to toe in protective body armor. Desperate to find escape—his garments ability to stave off the poisonous atmosphere limited to a few minutes—through tear blurred vision and narrow visor tinged by a transparent shield of Source, his powerful sight cut through the black cloud and searched Toliver's peak for his Dive chute.

  Steffor rejoiced at the site of a tower rising above the canopy and prepared to dive moments before a burst of white flame erupted from its dark opening. Stunned and confused, the wave of heat and soot that followed knocked him back, causing him to lose his balance and topple from his platform. Honed instincts enabled him at the last second to avoid disaster, just snagging the edge of his platform with fingertips.

  He dangled for several seconds, the wave of heat still scalding skin beneath garments, before he regained control long enough to scan the area around the treacherous tower for some type of route in which to dive.

  As he did so, he noticed with dismay how sparse the canopy had become. Once a dense blanket
of green pine needles and brown cones, the top of the world was a skeleton of tar covered twigs and branches. His heightened vision penetrated the plentiful gaps between with ease to depict Instenkul's branches miles beyond.

  This cannot be! What has happened in my absence?

  His panic rose as he looked out across the decimated canopy to find dozens of similar towers breaking the surface: gargantuan pipes built from a sordid mix of wood and metal, belching black clouds into the gray sky. With halfhearted effort, he released his grip, turned headfirst and fled from the dismal setting.

  Depression mounted as the full extent of his home's transformation was revealed while threading his way down the network of wilted branch, stem and foliage. The farther down he traveled, smog slowly diminished into a greasy haze, pitting surrounding vegetation into a perpetual fight for survival against blight of no known defense.

  Gone were the quaint estuary towns and villages set amongst the aesthetic crooks known to the upper most region's zigzagged stems and branches. In their place, Steffor flew past one grungy settlement after another, gutted into bark and branch nearest the Trunk with little thought or care to beauty or the Provider.

  Steffor witnessed a flurry of human and mechanical butchery alike within each communal atrocity. Fires burned everywhere. Not like the wild fires that would randomly occur with the passing of a storm, but huge bonfires contained by mammoth hearths made from brick that produced mounds of glowing coke. Via conveyer belt and shovel, fuel fed giant furnaces that powered machines of gear, piston and violent churning. Chimneys sprouted from each complex like wicked plants, connecting to the massive exhaust pipes extending down from Toliver's Peak. A vision plagued his intuitive mind, revealing the vast network of chimneys that must exist to justify the dozens of goliaths atop the world and their relentless purge of poison into the atmosphere.