Terminal Point Part 34

FORTY-FOUR.

SEPTEMBER 2379.

PARIS, FRANCE.

Kerr stared through the too-bright electric power as it crawled over Jason's telekinetic s.h.i.+eld. Nathan's rapidly swelling face stared back at him from behind Gideon's own telekinetic s.h.i.+eld. Around them, humans, telepaths, and empaths fell over, bodies jerking through electrocution. Kerr could sense both Sercas trying to restructure the Warhound merge through those deaths.

"Kerr," Jason said weakly as Quinton helped him sit up. A thick red stain was spread across his chest, tiny bone shards sticking to his torn skinsuit.

For a second, Kerr ignored him, reaching through a different psi link for Threnody. He shoved aside the pain, whispering apologies into her mind even as he pulled a visual for teleportation through her eyes.

'Port here, Jays, Kerr said as he pulled Jason into the psi link and shared the visual, then added a second one of the storage room below. Don't worry about me, I'll be all right.

You lying son of a b.i.t.c.h, do you really expect me to leave you behind?

You don't have a choice. You've only got enough strength left for two teleports, three if two of those are short, and one of those 'ports has to get you and Quinton to London.

Kerr- Jason. Kerr drowned out his partner's thoughts with desperate words, seconds ticking away as the spark of Threnody's power faded. I knew when Kristen broke your s.h.i.+elds Quinton would come first from here on out. He has to if you're going to live.

Kerr could feel Lucas and the merge at the far reaches of his mind, the mental grid lighting up with the thoughts of those who had survived the battle so far.

A hand grabbed at Kerr's leg, fingers twisting around his uniform. He knelt down, prying Jason's hand free and gripping it hard in his own.

You don't have much time. Kerr looked over at Jason, at the blood on his face and the panic in his partner's eyes, and smiled gently. You'll have to learn to follow someone else after this, Jays. Don't hate them because they're not me. Now go.

I could stay, Jason said. I'm the one Nathan wants.

That's not how this works. You know that.

Slowly, Jason nodded, eyes filled with pain and regret, his mind br.i.m.m.i.n.g with countless thoughts and emotion that washed over Kerr. Jason never looked away as he teleported out, taking Quinton with him, his hand disappearing from Kerr's clenched fingers. His telekinetic s.h.i.+eld stayed standing.

Kerr turned and pressed his hand flat against the invisible power of Jason's telekinesis, the hard, layered s.h.i.+eld all he had left now. The psi link that connected him with Jason was a faint spark at the bottom of his mind.

Nathan's diminished merge was already regrouping and stabilizing. Those dark blue eyes didn't look away from Kerr's face as clarity returned to them.

This ends here, Nathan said, his words riding a wave of desperate power.

Of course it does, Lucas said, slamming into and through Kerr's mind with enough force to black out the world. But you'll never see the Ark, Nathan. You'll never see Mars Colony.

Kerr's strength flowed through the Stryker merge, filling the cracks and smoothing out the jagged edges that had been torn into it. Lucas let him mend what Samantha couldn't, giving up more and more s.p.a.ce as other minds extracted themselves from the merge. First one, then two, then a dozen psi signatures disappeared-not dead, but teleported out, carrying Strykers who weren't kinetic-oriented with them. Kerr kept his hand pressed hard against Jason's s.h.i.+eld, the support grounding him as Warhound telepaths dug hooks into the merge and his own mental s.h.i.+elds.

The Stryker merge kept growing smaller, seemingly beaten into submission by Nathan's. Warhounds started to outnumber Strykers on the mental grid. Kerr felt the strain of the merge start to build up in his own mind as Lucas transferred more and more control over to him. The weight was something he could handle better than Lucas at this point, having been inactive during the majority of the battle. Out of every 'path-oriented psion in the Stryker ranks, Kerr was the only one left who could take Lucas's place.

I thought I could pull you out, Lucas said.

I know, Kerr said. But the future always changes.

It's not supposed to.

Maybe. But you did. And I don't blame you for that.

It was Kerr's job now to keep Nathan's merge anch.o.r.ed in this moment and to Kerr's mind. If those connections broke, they would lose this fight and all the rest waiting to start in the coming years.

Kerr held up as best he could, but against a Cla.s.s I triad psion with years of practice under his belt, it was only a matter of time before Kerr started to buckle. He struggled to sh.o.r.e up all the Strykers' s.h.i.+elds until those, too, started to disappear.

I can't hold it any longer, Lucas said, thoughts a fractured, broken mess. Kerr could barely sense Samantha or Kristen in the maelstrom that was Lucas's mind.

Kerr did what he was trained to do, what he had promised to do. He stood his ground.

Let me have the rest of the merge. Jason's telekinetic s.h.i.+eld was still solid beneath his touch. Gideon kept hitting it with merged telekinesis, but couldn't break through. Don't worry about me, Lucas.

Lucas exited Kerr's mind, leaving behind a gaping hole in Kerr's thoughts that was filled with a myriad of minds from Nathan's merge. Kerr held on to the Stryker merge for a few moments longer, holding up the facade, until everyone else let go and all he could feel were two last people lingering in his mind.

Jason and Threnody.

For a second-Kerr lived a lifetime.

Jason's s.h.i.+eld disappeared. Kerr cut the psi link between them. Merged Warhound telekinesis, once held at bay, now slammed into Kerr. He was thrown back by the force, the punch a harder hit than anything he'd ever before experienced. He crashed to the floor, felt his bones shatter from the inside out, felt the deep ache of organs tearing apart. All he tasted now was blood.

Merged telepathy curled deeper into his mind, stripping his s.h.i.+elds down to their last layer, down to where his Cla.s.s IX empathy mingled with his Cla.s.s II telepathy. It wasn't enough to save him. Not this time.

Kerr blinked, struggling to breathe. Emptiness clawed at the edge of his mind and brightness interfered with his vision. He could see sunlight glinting off the s.p.a.ce shuttles through the plasgla.s.s observation windows of the command room, everything s.h.i.+ning with false halos.

He felt Nathan digging through his mind and Kerr couldn't stop him, didn't even try as the Warhound merge got lost in the maze of his psyche. He let all those minds find anchor points in his own thoughts, tying them down. Blood and clear fluid slid out of his nose and ears, pouring out of his mouth, choking him. He sensed Threnody's determination through the tenuous psi link that still ran between them. Kerr closed his eyes, feeling some distant sort of satisfaction as Nathan found, too late, what was hiding in his mind.

No, Nathan said, his telepathy a ragged, bright line of thought knotted deep in Kerr's mind. You Strykers would never do this. It goes against everything you are.

That's why you never saw it coming, Kerr said, thinking of Lucas.

With the last of his strength and every mental trick Lucas had taught him, Kerr held tight to the faded imprint of the merge, trapping Nathan and the merged telepaths and telekinetics there with him on the ground. The Warhounds struggled to get free of the deep holes in Kerr's mind, and maybe some did, but Kerr didn't know how many of them survived. All he knew was the shock that colored everyone's thoughts, their shared horrified, frantic disbelief. In that last hectic instant, Kerr heard them, heard them all as they died screaming.

FORTY-FIVE.

SEPTEMBER 2379.

PARIS, FRANCE.

Threnody felt, distantly, when the last motherboard burned out, the spark of exploding circuits cascading through her brain. Or maybe it was something else, something more immediate. Threnody didn't know, couldn't care, as she collapsed to the floor, struggling to stay conscious.

Everything seemed distant until Kerr's voice whispered through her mind. Threnody could barely understand his words, but it didn't matter. All he needed were her eyes, so she focused on the generator room, everything blurry to her sight. Then it sharpened, brought into perfect clarity not by her, but by someone else. The connection overwhelmed her traumatized system and she pa.s.sed out for a few seconds. She came back to herself slowly, hearing someone calling her name.

"Thren, please. Wake up," Quinton said, his voice a ragged, painful plea in her ear.

It took effort to open her eyes. She was barely aware of her surroundings, of the person holding her up so she could breathe. She coughed, her lungs burning. She tried to move, but the agony in her body made her choke out a cry.

"It's okay, it's okay," Quinton said, sounding desperate. He s.h.i.+fted her in his arms, one hand resting above the bullet wound in her thigh. "I know it hurts, but we'll fix you up in no time. I promise."

Only one emergency light was still working, whatever power source it ran on spared from the damage she'd caused. It cast an eerie glow over the two men gathered around her. Threnody opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

Quinton's shaking hand touched her face. "Jason, get us out of here."

Threnody blinked, the room changing shape with a crack of displaced air as Jason teleported them not to safety, but to the storage room she had left behind for the generator room. A single emergency light burned over by the door. The Command Center must have had a separate emergency backup system that she hadn't been connected to. There still wasn't enough light to see by.

"Flashlight," Threnody rasped out. "Near the case."

"Jason, we don't have time for this s.h.i.+t," Quinton snarled. He still grabbed the flashlight and turned it on. The bright light hurt Threnody's eyes.

Threnody coughed and looked down at herself. Her arms were black husks streaked through with scorched red, her uniform and the skinsuit burned off. Pieces still remained, melted into muscle, mixing with plasma. She could move her fingers, barely, but she couldn't feel a d.a.m.n thing. Her head felt strangely weighted down.

"The case?" she managed to ask.

"Bomb's still active. The insulation in the carrying case protected it," Jason said in a hollow voice. "The shelves were metal. Receiver is nothing but slag. I can't find the remote detonator."

Threnody let out a choked little laugh. "Had it with me. Left it on the lower level."

She could hear Jason swallow. "Then it's probably slagged as well."

Something wet hit her face; tears, maybe. Or blood. She couldn't smell the difference, couldn't smell anything. Threnody focused on hands that she couldn't feel anymore, muscle memory ingrained in a way the brain couldn't forget. Quinton always said that even after he'd lost his arms or hands to his power, somehow he always thought his limbs were still there. Phantom sensations that his nerves remembered, would always remember.

Hers remembered.

"How much time?" she said.

Quinton's arms tightened around her. The pressure nearly sent Threnody spiraling back into unconsciousness, and she let out a pained noise. Quinton loosened his grip. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Kerr and Lucas can't hold Nathan back for much longer," Jason said. "Three, maybe four minutes. Everyone else has teleported out. It's just us."

Threnody opened her eyes. The darkness seemed strangely bright to her. "Leave me."

"No."

Quinton ground out the word. Threnody felt his entire body jerk in protest at what she was telling him to do. She struggled to lift an arm, b.u.mping a ruined hand against the line of his jaw, refusing to let the pain pull her under. A roaring sound filled her ears, but she didn't know what it was and couldn't care.

"No choice." She smiled, struggling to form it. "Bomb needs to go off."

"I'll do it," Quinton said, burying his face against the top of her head, his teeth catching on her hair. "Jason can teleport you to London, then come back for me."

She caught sight of Jason's face and the bitter regret in his eyes. "I've only got enough strength left for one more teleport," Jason said. "I can't-"

Save you. The same way he couldn't save Kerr. She didn't need to be a telepath to hear those unspoken words.

Threnody drew in a short breath, finding it hard to breathe. She felt cold. "The world needs Jason. He needs you, Quinton. There's no one left to do this. Just me."

Quinton clutched wordlessly at her uniform, pulling at it.

Threnody felt Jason's hand on her shoulder, his grip shaky. His voice wasn't much better. "We're running out of time."

Quinton picked her up with arms that shook, but his hands were gentle as he cradled her close for the last time. He sat her up against the back wall of the storage room, Jason dragging the black case within easy reach. The glow from the flashlight showed Threnody everything around her, everything that mattered.

Quinton framed her face with his hands, fingers warm against her skin as he looked at her, his eyes searching hers out in the dark as they'd done countless times before.

"Hi," Quinton said, voice breaking.

"Hi." Threnody leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his. "I wanted to see it."

"I know."

"Live it for me. As long as you can." He tried to say her name, but nothing came out, just the shape of it on his lips. Threnody smiled, refusing to look away. "It's okay, Quin. Don't be afraid."

Jason teleported them out in a crack of displaced air and Threnody was left alone, the ghost of Quinton's touch on her face. The flashlight was angled to spotlight the open black case and the shape of the nuclear bomb that rested inside.

Threnody reached out with a shaking hand, ignoring the pain that came with movement, until her ruined fingers hovered over the arming switch near the base of the warhead. The tattered psi link between her and Kerr was held together by mental whispers, and then not even that.

She sobbed out a breath, biting down hard on her torn bottom lip until blood flowed over her tongue. She still couldn't taste it, but she remembered the metallic flavor, and her life, and all the decisions that had brought her to this moment.

Threnody flipped the switch.

The world burned hot and white for an instant. The mental grid dipped. Pulsed. Flattened.

In her mind and Kerr's, everything was quiet.