Alliance by Mark Frost
“It’s worse,” said Will, deciding to hold nothing back. “This time the future of the planet is at stake. They’re working with an older race—maybe the ones who built that city down there. Those things were banished ages ago to some other dimension, but they’re trying to come back and regain control of the Earth. A war is coming, not between men this time, but men are helping them, men like the Knights, in exchange for wealth, power, advanced technology … and a favored position once this older race takes over.”
“Yeah, but we’re going to stop them,” said Nick, without much conviction.
“You three kids?” asked Nepsted.
“There’s five of us, actually,” said Will.
“Well, thank goodness for that,” whispered Nepsted.
“And we’re hoping, of course,” said Will, “that you can help us.”
“So the objective of the program hasn’t changed,” said Nepsted, his voice faltering. “Trying to create a race of advanced beings. Paladins.”
“But now the science has caught up to their philosophy,” said Will.
“So this time they not only possess the knowledge, they also have the wealth, technology, and will,” said Raymond, his eyes meeting theirs. “We must do something, anything, to stop them.”
“Why didn’t you act before, if you suspected something? Why did you wait until now?” asked Ajay.
Nepsted looked right at Will. “I was waiting for you,” he said.
Will saw something move in the image on the card-sized screen in his hand, streaming the feed from the camera in the cage at the counter up front.
“Someone’s out there,” said Will.
THE MANDALA
“I want you all to look away,” said Nepsted urgently. “Right now, please, do that much for me.”
The three roommates turned their backs and they heard Nepsted hoist himself out of the steel tub, then the wet syncopated patter of a thousand tendrils slapping on the concrete as he rapidly transported himself toward the door.
Will glanced at Ajay and realized that he’d turned just enough to catch some of this in his expansive peripheral vision; his jaw hung agape, his eyes wide. Ajay turned to Will with an expression of helpless astonishment.
Will shook his head: Don’t look.
Ajay closed his eyes and then clamped his hands over them. They heard a sequence of strange slapping sounds, flesh hitting flesh, tendrils whipping around each other and binding back together.
“Aw, dude,” said Nick, wincing.
“Thank you,” said Nepsted when it was over. “Now come with me.”
When they turned back to him, Nepsted was dressed and in the form they’d always seen him in—a small, deformed man seated in his wheelchair, operating its joystick by hand, steering it through the door.
“Could you see who it was?” Nepsted asked Will quietly as he rolled back into the cage.
“No,” said Will. “I only saw movement.”
“You need to hide. Back here in the aisles where no one can see you.”
“We put the lock back on the door but didn’t fasten it,” said Nick. “We couldn’t reach it through the cage.”
“I’ll take care of that. I hope you disabled that camera on your way in,” said Nepsted, nodding up at the security camera near the ceiling, halfway down the aisle.
“I put it to sleep,” said Ajay.
“Good,” said Nepsted. “That’s how they watch me.”
“No one saw us come in, I can promise you that,” said Ajay.
“Whatever happens, don’t reveal yourselves,” said Nepsted solemnly. “It’s not safe for you to be seen here.”
The three of them crouched behind boxes of equipment in the last row to the left while Nepsted rolled down the aisle toward the cage.
“Dudes, I didn’t want to bring it up in the room,” whispered Nick, making a face, “but oh my bleeping bleepness, what is up with the purple bubble bath?”
“It’s got to have something to do with his … you know,” said Will.
“Squidness?”
“My guess is it serves as some kind of delivery system for nutrients or medications that keep him alive,” said Ajay.
“How long do you think he can survive without it?” asked Will.
“I have no idea,” said Ajay. “What’s the longest you’ve ever seen him in his regular form?”
Will thought back to their past conversations. “Maybe half an hour?”
“If he wants to leave, it won’t be easy lugging that big tub of goo around,” said Nick. “What do you think is in it? He’s so freakin’ old maybe it’s some kind of preservative.”
Will peeked around the edge of the box and saw that Nepsted had reached the counter.
“Who’s there?” they heard Nepsted say.
Will saw a few tendrils slip out of Nepsted’s right sleeve, slither toward the gate, and slip through the gaps in the cage.
“He’s closing the lock from the inside,” whispered Will. He leaned back and held up the small screen so they could all see it.
“I know someone’s there,” said Nepsted. “Show yourself.”
Will noticed a blurry smudge swiftly approaching the counter and then a naked human form appeared in a fragmented flash of light, right in front of the cage, instantly coalescing from a cloud of dust.
It was Courtney Hodak. Tall, preposterously fit, and she seemed completely unselfconscious about her unclothed state. She raised her left hand, grasping a handful of Nepsted’s writhing tendrils in a vise grip, sneering at him through the cage.
“I hear this is where they keep the freaks,” she said.
“This is the men’s locker room,” said Nepsted, in pain, struggling to pull away from her.
“Are you alone back there, freak?” she asked, looking past him.
Ajay’s eyes bugged out. Both Will and Nick covered his mouth with their hands.
“What do you think?” said Nepsted as he finally freed himself, tendrils snapping back through the cage and vanishing up his sleeve.
Courtney turned to the darkness behind her and waved someone forward. The dice in Will’s pocket began vibrating again; he had to hold them in his hand to dampen the sound. Wearing his black Windbreaker and cap, Hobbes strolled out of the dark, flanked by two tall muscular guys that Will recognized from Courtney’s class of Knights. Hobbes casually held a white shirt and some shorts with a hooked finger and handed them to Courtney as he reached the cage. She slipped them on, taking her time, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable her nakedness made Nepsted.
Nick pulled the screen closer. Ajay tried to take it away from him so he could watch. Will gestured for them both to cool it.
“That’s Todd’s sister,” mouthed Will silently.
“That’s Courtney?” Nick whispered, looking amazed.
“You didn’t recognize her?” Will asked.
“Dude, I wasn’t looking at her face.” Nick pulled the screen closer for another look and lowered his voice even further. “Totally stark naked.”
“To be accurate,” whispered Ajay, “she was wearing shoes.”
“Hello, Raymond,” said Hobbes, smiling pleasantly, his strange light eyes glowing.
“Who are your playmates?” asked Nepsted.
“You haven’t forgotten the pride of last year’s class, have you, Raymond? Misters Halsted and Davis?” said Hobbes, gesturing toward the two boys. “Although of course you wouldn’t have seen Courtney before.”
“He has now,” she said teasingly.
“What do you want, Edgar?” asked Nepsted.
Hobbes leaned forward on the counter, relaxed and amiable. “I came to warn you, old friend. A few young students have taken it upon themselves to pry into our history. Subjects they have no business knowing. That no one but you and I are privy to.”
“What’s that to do with me?” asked Nepsted.
“I believe you know who I’m talking about,” said Hobbes.
Will watched the screen intently. Hobbes leaned over the counter; close to the camera, the man’s eyes burned with unnatural heat, staring at Nepsted until Happy finally looked away.
“I might,” said Nepsted.
“You know how devastating this could be, Raymond. I wouldn’t be surprised if these kids try to speak with you about it any time now. Unless they’ve been here already?”
Hobbes waited until Nepsted shook his head.
“I don’t need to reemphasize how vital it is that you don’t share anything with them. Do I?”
“No, Edgar,” mumbled Nepsted.
“Because if you require a reminder, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for the longest time but never had a chance, or should I say, a reason to, until now.”
Hobbes slipped something from the pocket of his Windbreaker and pinned it up against the cage in front of Nepsted. It looked like a photograph, but Will and the others couldn’t make it out on their screen.
“Do you know who that is, Raymond?”
“I have no idea.”
“Your son, Raymond,” said Hobbes. “That’s Henry Nepsted, as he looks today. The apple of your eye.”
They heard Nepsted choke back a sob. Will felt Nick tense up beside him, anger spiking, and put a hand on his arm to settle him down.
“As you can see, Henry’s … kind of a special person.” Hobbes smiled. “Just like his dad.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” asked Nepsted, his voice husky and strained.
Hobbes seemed genuinely puzzled. “Your question hurts my feelings, it really does. When have I ever lied to you, Raymond? We’ve always been able to trust each other. Don’t you know how much I depend on you after all we’ve been through together?”
“How do I know that’s really my boy?”
“Because I give you my word,” said Hobbes, not smiling now.
“Where is he?” asked Nepsted after a few moments, sounding weaker.
“Oh, we know exactly where he is—in fact, I took that photograph myself just the other day. I’ll leave this with you, if you open your drawer.”
A moment later, Will heard the metal drawer in the cage wall slide open. Hobbes dropped in the photo and Nepsted drew it inside. Hobbes leaned forward on the counter.
“Henry’s less than half an hour from here, Raymond. But don’t worry, he knows nothing about this, or you, or the school, or anything really. He’s in no immediate danger. You’d like to keep it that way, wouldn’t you? I know what a worrier you are.”
“Please … ,” said Nepsted.
Hobbes modulated his tone again, two old friends chatting over a beer. “You have such an active imagination, Raymond. So I want you to imagine what would happen to your son … if you do anything to help these misguided young people. Could I make that any clearer?”
“No,” said Nepsted softly.
“What’s that, Raymond?”
“I understand, Edgar.”
“I’m so thankful for the chance to have this conversation,” said Hobbes. “Before things got carried away.”
Hobbes smiled, showing his sharpened teeth, stood back from the counter, turned, and walked into the darkness, waving once over his shoulder. The three young Knights trailed after him, with Courtney shooting a last smirk back at the cage as she blew Nepsted a kiss.
Will, Ajay, and Nick didn’t move until they heard Nepsted’s wheelchair roll back their way and stop nearby. Nepsted looked ashen and wouldn’t meet their eyes. He clutched the photo Hobbes had given him in his left hand.
“You have to leave now,” he said.
“Raymond, don’t believe him. You can’t believe a word that guy says—” said Nick.
“Give me the key so I can open the lock and let you out.” Nepsted held out his hand, still not looking at them. Will reluctantly gave him the silver key.
“But it can’t be true,” said Nick.
“Edgar’s never lied to me,” said Nepsted, turning his chair around, heading back to the gate.
“What should we do?” Nick whispered.
“We should go,” said Will. “There’s nothing we can do right now.”
“He told us what we needed to know anyway,” said Ajay.
“But we can’t just leave him like this. We need to help him,” said Nick passionately.
“We need to leave him alone for a while,” said Will. “If Hobbes doesn’t find out we were here, he should be okay.”
Will got up and the others followed him to the counter. Nepsted had already opened the lock. A cluster of tendrils pulled open the gate, then slithered back up his sleeves. He lowered his eyes as they eased their way past him.
“Raymond, you don’t need to do what that guy tells you anymore,” said Nick, pleading with him. “We can help you; we can make him stop—”
“Don’t ever come down here again,” said Nepsted coldly.
With fire in his eyes, he slammed the gate behind them; then more tendrils shot out through the cage and he used the key to relock the lock. The key clattered to the floor at Will’s feet as the wheelchair turned and limped away, one wheel squeaking on every turn.
Will picked up the key and pocketed it.
“What now?” asked Nick.
“Find Elise and Brooke and talk about it. Take the back way, in case they’re watching the doors—What’s the matter, Ajay?”
Ajay kept glancing at Nick, looking wary. “I caught a glimpse of that photograph,” he said.
“What about it?” asked Nick.
“I think I know who Nepsted’s son is,” said Ajay.
Will’s pager went off. He picked up the phone on the counter and the operator connected him.
“This is Will,” he said.
“Meet me at the Riven Oak,” said the voice.
Coach Jericho.
At first Nick didn’t believe it when Ajay told them what he’d seen in Raymond’s photo, but once Ajay reminded him why, he and Nick decided to investigate immediately. They snuck out the Barn by the back way. Nick and Ajay headed back to the quad, taking a long route through the woods to avoid detection, while Will headed to the Riven Oak.
Coach Jericho was waiting for him inside the big split tree, leaning against the wood as Will arrived. Coach didn’t move, looking cool and relaxed.
“What took you so long?” said the coach, deadpan.
“It’s been three minutes,” said Will.
Coach Jericho beckoned him inside the hollow of the broken tree, out of sight.
“What’s up?” asked Will.
“Jungle drums,” said Jericho. “You’re stirring up some notice.”
“Am I?” Will tried to hide his concern. “Where are you hearing that from?”
“Between the lines,” said Jericho, then studied him carefully. “What do you want to ask me?”
Will was about to say, “Hey, you called me,” then realized he wanted to ask six questions at once but settled for: “You remember telling me once about an ancient race that lived here before your people did?”
Jericho looked even more serious, if that was even possible. “What did you find?”
“Proof that you’re right. I’m trying to decide what to do about it. Without ‘stirring up too much notice.’ ”
“How are you going about that?” asked Jericho, staring up into the tree.
“I’m thinking.”
“Which mind are you using?”
“I don’t understand the question,” said Will.
“You have more than one mind,” said Jericho, pointing to Will’s head, then his heart, then his stomach. “Decide which one to listen to. The higher mind’s the one that matters. Then it’ll speak to you.”
Like much of what Jericho said, Will didn’t know what to make of that, but he’d learned he usually had to give Coach’s advice time. In this case, time for it to soak down into his “higher mind,” he guessed. Without realizing it, he’d taken the stone falcon out of his pocket and was rubbing it absentmindedly like prayer beads. Jericho opened Will’s hand and stared at the figure as if he could read it, then looked up at Will.
“Yep,” he said. “Falcon.”
“Excuse me?”
“That’s definitely your spirit animal,” said Jericho. “And you saw the We-in-di-ko.”
“I did?”
Jericho hesitated. “Unless I’m wrong.”
“No,” said Will, remembering the shambling figure that had followed him in the tunnels. “I actually think you’re right.”
“You and Lyle aren’t through with each other,” said Jericho quietly.
“What does he want?” asked Will.
“He’ll get back to you about that. But when the reckoning comes, you’ll have more help on your side than you know.”
Then he was gone like a puff of smoke. Will wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him run before. He wasn’t sure he saw him run this time.
Will set off through the woods, staying off the main trails. About halfway back to the quad, his pager went off, and a beat later he heard Elise’s voice in his head.
We need to talk. Disregard the page if you can hear this. Meet me at the art studios.
Will picked up his pace, and after tracking the outskirts of the campus, he made his way to Adams Hall.
The upper floor of Adams housed a series of spacious garrets, with floor-to-ceiling windows and skylights for optimum light, where art students kept their studios. Will found Elise waiting outside the studio she shared with Brooke. She pulled him inside and closed the door.
Will was about to give Elise a hug when he noticed Brooke waiting behind her. It surprised him, but he hoped he didn’t look disappointed she was there. He wasn’t; he was happy to see them both and to share what they’d learned. So he gave them both a hug—Elise first, then Brooke—making sure he didn’t favor one over the other. He was relieved to see neither of them seemed to mind. He brought them quickly up to speed on Nepsted’s story and his encounter with Hobbes that seemed to confirm everything Raymond had told them. It worried them but they appeared to take the information in stride.