Dark Matter: Interchron, #3

By Liesel K. Hill

Three days until the lunar eclipse. Three days to save humanity. Three days to the war for freedom.

An eclipse is supposed to be a wondrous event. Not the end of freedom for humanity. For Maggie, they're one and the same. In only a few days, the collectives will coalesce, and the forced assimilation of humanity will begin. Maggie and the team need to find a way to stop it, but they don't know where to start.

While Maggie fights for knowledge, the rest of the team faces challenges of their own. Loyalties will be tested, obscure memories will break through, and betrayal may kill the only chance they have to remain free.

Come along for the third installment of this epic, dystopian romance. 

Stop the collectives, or stop making free decisions. Forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Liesel Hill
• Release date: Oct 28, 2018
• ISBN: 9781393554189

Book preview

Prologue: The Gray Man

Both hands, Benny. You’re sloshing water out.

Benny tossed his light-brown hair in frustration, righting his grip on the wooden bucket before glaring up at Téa.

Téa grinned down at her six-year-old brother. The shape of his eyes and shade of his hair mirrored hers exactly. She would have mussed it playfully if she hadn’t been carrying her own water buckets, one in each hand. She had to work to keep the full buckets level as they made their way over the lumpy forest ground.

The morning was young, but warm. Already Téa felt sweat sliding down the backs of her knees and the small of her back. She felt grateful for the tattered, red-flowered headscarf that kept it off her forehead.

Their small camp had awakened only half an hour before, and Téa and Benny were tasked with bringing water from the river. Three full buckets were usually enough. Two for the brief task of washing with threadbare rags allowed before breakfast. One to drink and later wash breakfast dishes in. The more Benny spilled, though, the more likely one of them would have to return to the river before they broke camp.

Come on, Benny, she urged. You know our mission. Back to camp with as much water as possible.

This kind of motivation usually worked on Benny—it got him out of his blanket roll this morning, anyway—but now he ignored her. How many more days, Téa? he asked. Though sweat beaded his upper lip, he did better at keeping the bucket level now.

Nigel thinks about a week. She glanced down at him, alternating glances between his face and the rolling, hard-packed ground in front of her. Why?

He shrugged.

Come on, Benny. She grunted as her toe caught a small stone, making her wobble before regaining her balance and spilling some water.

Benny grinned, looking pleased at her misstep. After a moment, his smile faded. What will it be like there, Téa? What if we don’t like it at Inter, Interchrit...?

"Interchroniter, Téa said, stressing the dominant syllable. You can can it Interchron for short. It will be wonderful. Téa kept confidence in her voice. Much better than things are now."

We don’t know any of the people. What if they’re mean? What if they...hurt us?

A pang of sadness hit Téa and she nearly stumbled again. That won’t happen, Benny, she said gently. It’s why Mom and Dad wanted to come here. These people will be good. Like us. People who want to live as individuals and be safe from the Arachnimen.

Benny frowned at his water, repositioning the bucket’s coarse rope handle against his palms and flexing stiff fingers. He didn’t look convinced. Do you think Dad would have wanted us to keep going?

Téa froze, then turned slowly toward her little brother, doing her best to swallow past the lump in her throat. Of course. It’s exactly what Dad would have wanted.

Benny scratched under his neck, looking frustrated. No, not frustrated. Afraid.

What if the Arachnimen find us again? Dad became the Darkness to save us, right? But I don’t think Mom knows how. Who will save us if they find us again?

Téa gaped at Benny for ten full seconds before snapping her mouth shut. She’d had no idea he’d worked out so much of what happened. Did he truly understand what their father did that day, weeks ago?

What do you know about what happened with Dad, Benny?

Benny shrugged. He told me about it once. That day, I saw him do it. I’m not a baby, Téa.

Téa squinted at him suspiciously. "He told you about it?"

Benny immediately blushed, his gaze hitting his toes. He always did that when he felt guilty.

Okay, no. He told Mom about it. They thought I was asleep, but I was listening.

Téa relaxed and turned, moving again. Benny kept pace with her.

She wouldn’t have understood why her father would tell Benny such a thing. He hadn’t. She’d spent many a night pretending to sleep while secretly listening to her parents worry about the future as well. She hadn’t been privy to the conversation Benny meant, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand what her father did. He’d taught her about it in an oblique way, months ago.

The Arachnimen are only grunts, Téa, he’d told her. The Trepids are bloodhounds. Once they see you, hear you, sense your neurochemical signature, they can track you. Home in on your energy. It’s why we must always stay hidden. Once they get a taste of your energy, they’re nearly impossible to shake.

That’s why he’d done what he did. To give them one chance to make it to Interchron. Her father must have known it would be the only one they'd have.

Téa glanced down at her brother, still balancing her buckets. Do you know what it means, Benny? What Dad did?

Benny nodded. He kept them from finding us. He died so we could get away. He became the Darkness.

Téa kept silent for a long time, trying to decide what Benny was ready to hear. Is that what he called it, when you listened to him tell Mom?

Benny shrugged. Mom got mad at Dad because he knew how to do it. She said she didn’t want him to. He said sometimes you have to fight darkness with darkness. He said he’d do it to protect us, but only as a last retort.

Resort, Téa corrected absently. Her mind raced back to the day it happened. Strange, how quickly the memory came.

They’d just broken camp when a dozen Arachnimen, eyes and cheeks covered with black spider's webs, crashed into the clearing. Their larger counterparts, a handful of Trepids, came behind them, sporting black faces with white spider's webs, and jewels stuck into the skin at the web junctions.

The henchmen took Téa’s group by surprise and things went bad immediately.

If Téa hadn't been holding her water buckets, she might have run a hand over her crooked nose. After weeks, she'd memorized the feel of it. One of the Arachnimen had punched her in the face, shattering the cartilage. It hadn't healed well and now was irritatingly dented on the right side. Téa doubted she'd ever feel pretty again. At least she was alive.

Her father had shouted at his family to run. Then he fell to his knees. Téa watched her father gather energy around himself and do something specific with it.

At the time, she couldn't internalize what it all meant. What he'd done. She'd run the events of that day through her head non-stop ever since. She knew now what she'd seen. If it came down to it, she could replicate what her father did, but Benny didn’t need to know that. Nor did their mother.

Téa shook herself and focused on her task. Don’t worry, Benny. We won’t be attacked again. We’re nearly to Interchron.

"What if we are attacked again," Benny insisted.

We’ll figure it out. Téa infused her voice with a confidence she didn’t feel. She’d always been more like her father than her mother, but she didn't have his courage. Her mother hadn’t talked about that day since it happened. She’d become far away and listless, leaving Téa to care for Benny. The heaviness Téa had felt since losing her father clawed insistently at her insides so she changed the subject.

Interchron will be great, Benny, she said cheerily. Dad said they have actual beds and running water, remember? They live inside a mountain! Won’t it be fun to explore?

Maybe, Benny said slowly. Won’t it be scary? What if once we go in, we can’t get back out?

Téa had heard her mother voice similar concerns to her father. Her father’s reply echoed in her head even now. I doubt this place will be perfect, but  no matter what downsides Interchron might have, I think it may be the last beacon of hope left on earth.

Téa shrugged. I don’t know how it all works. If being in the mountain means being protected from the Arachnimen, and having plenty of food and water and...freedom, then I’m okay staying inside. Aren’t you?

Benny smiled. I guess. The tension melted from his shoulders.

Téa smiled down at him, then paused. They’d reached the narrowest part of their route. The yellow-green shrubs and pale, thin, aspen trunks stood too close together for them to walk side by side here. Téa put a hand on Benny’s shoulder. Dad wanted this for us.

Benny nodded solemnly, more wisdom than his six years warranted shining out from his brown eyes.

You go ahead of me here, Benny. Come on, look alive. Let’s get this mission completed.

He grinned, and they made their way single-file through the slim, natural avenue.

Téa focused on the faded, brown leggings she wore. They were dotted with tiny, orange diamonds. Probably the ugliest pants she'd ever worn, but beggars couldn't be choosers. At least they had some color. Her boxy shirt was the color of...nothing. Not white, not brown. Something in between and completely forgettable.

In truth, Téa shared some of Benny’s worries. Her father trusted where they were going, and that was good enough for her, but moving into a new place, with new people, felt daunting. Dad promised they’d be safe in this Interchron. If true, dealing with new, possibly difficult, neighbors would be worth it. Whenever fear niggled its way into her heart, she told herself it couldn’t possibly be worse than the coast had been.

Even before her father’s death, they’d lived in constant fear there. When news of a safe place more than two thousand miles away reached them, her father immediately considered it. Privately, he told her it was a big risk, but he felt good about it. He believed it to be the best chance for their family. Perhaps the only chance of remaining free.

While of course they wanted to find a safe place with plenty of individuals, lots of them in one place might spell danger, depending on what kind of people they were. It would essentially be an underground society, and they’d have to follow the society’s rules.

So, they’d come west. They’d met other people, other families, along the way, also traveling toward Interchron.

Téa found that encouraging. So many people wouldn’t be heading for the same place if it was evil. Téa’s parents dared to hope.

Then the attack happened.

Her father only made it halfway to Interchron, and his sacrifice for their safety made Téa more determined than ever to get her mother and brother there. She prayed her father's hope did not prove misplaced.

Téa didn’t think the quick smile and lively twinkle would return to her mother’s eyes, but perhaps in the safety of Interchron, they could all begin to heal. Their once-large group now held only thirteen people. They worked together as they made their way west toward the hollow mountain in the desert-like section of this mountain range. After months of travel, they drew close.

Sweat began to soak through Téa’s clothes. She wished the group could camp closer to the river, but it wouldn't be safe. Arachnimen trolled the banks looking for individuals to brutalize, so they always camped at least a quarter mile from the water, in the most undisturbed wilderness they could find.

Which was why Téa always accompanied Benny to the river. At sixteen, she knew how to stay hidden, only venturing to the water’s edge after a careful scan of the area to make certain they were alone.

Téa possessed few abilities. Her forte lay in sensing heat. She was still learning to differentiate between humans and animals, so she treated them with equal caution. If she mistook a large animal for a human, she wouldn’t want to meet the animal at the river any more than she’d want to meet an Arachniman.

They left the narrow avenue and Téa moved up to walk beside Benny again. A rise came into view up ahead. It crested well above the level ground they walked on. Climbing it represented the steepest part of their journey. The camp sat directly on the other side.

Neither she nor Benny spoke as they trudged up the hill. The exertion of her lungs and the burn in her calves discouraged conversation.

Three quarters of the way up, Téa remembered she ought to be paying attention to heat signatures. Before her father’s death, her mother told her to practice during simple times of the day. Before coming around a corner or over a rise, she ought to feel out the heat signatures and practice interpreting what she felt.

Sending her mind out, Téa searched for thermal energy. Small thermal signatures dotted the forest around her. They came from dens in and under trees and nests up high. She even detected minute ones crawling through the surrounding soil.

All as should be.

She turned her attention to the other side of the crest, where she fully expected to find eleven signatures, tromping through the camp. There were....

With a gasp, Téa dropped her buckets and lunged for her brother. She wrapped an arm around his skinny waist from behind and clamped a hand over his mouth. Benny dropped his bucket and made noises of protest.

Shut up, Benny, she whispered urgently. There are way too many people on the other side. Way more than eleven.

Benny went utterly still in her arms. The tension built in his limbs so sharply, his hands shook.

Téa took her hand from his mouth and moved around beside him, pressing a finger to her lips.

Benny’s eyes looked wide and terrified.

She gave his hand a squeeze—enough to let him know he wasn’t alone, while not enough for complete reassurance. She didn’t want him to relax. She motioned for him to follow her.

She moved silently down onto her belly and crawled toward the top of the rise. Cold moisture soaked through the front of her shirt and brown slacks as she slid across the spot where she’d spilled her water.

It barely registered.

Benny crawled on his belly beside her, keeping slightly behind.

As slowly and carefully as possible, Téa raised her eyes a hair higher than the crest.

What she saw froze her spine.

Five of their group, including her mother, knelt in a circle at the center of their camp, surrounded by a ring of imposing Arachnimen.

The huge men would have towered head and shoulders above her father, and he’d always seemed tall to Téa. The spider’s web tattoos over their eyes made them look perpetually beat up. Their greasy hair—longer on the sides than in the back—always reminded Téa of snow hats her mother made her wear as a child. The kind with long flaps that hung down over the ears.

The camp lay in shambles. Tents had been slashed, supplies dumped and scattered. Why did none of the five adults kneeling in the center move, fight, protest? Where were all the others?

Téa’s mother stared blankly ahead at nothing. The fear that settled solidly in Téa’s middle paralyzed her.

Sounds of stomping and human cries came from outside the clearing and Téa cut her gaze to the right, searching. Nigel Felton, the leader of their group, had lost his son the same day Téa’s father died. Two Arachnimen wrestled him into the center of the camp with the others. His wife, Margot, already knelt there beside Téa’s mother.

He, at least, acted as Téa would have expected, throwing his bodyweight around, trying to escape his captors. His slight stature made it impossible. They threw him down beside Téa’s mother, where he landed with a grunt. He immediately swiveled to glare at the circle of Arachnimen surrounding him. He turned to his fellow individuals, and his eyes widened.

He lunged toward his wife, kneeling on the other side of Téa’s mother, and grabbed her by the shoulders. Margot! Margot answer me! He shook her forcefully. Her eyes remained flat, staring straight at Nigel’s face, but not truly seeing. No! No! Nigel pulled his wife into his chest, tears leaking down his cheeks. She swayed back and forth stiffly, like a wooden doll in his grip.

A shadow fell across the camp. Téa looked around, but couldn't identify the source.

The sky remained clear.

Cold chills raced down Téa’s arms and spine. The hair at the nape of her neck stood on end.

A man stepped up behind Nigel. Téa had been so riveted on the group kneeling in the center of the camp, she didn't notice the man approaching, or which way he’d come from. It was as though he’d stepped straight out of the air.

The new man looked gray all over. It was his skin, and yet it wasn’t. Téa had been raised around people of all skin colors. This man looked different. He felt different. Like he’d painted his entire body—skin, hair, fingernails—with gray tar. More than that, he oozed darkness, as if he’d taken hold of a tangible fog and wrapped himself in it like cloak.

Téa doubted it would feel like fog if she ran her fingers through it. The thought of doing so made her shudder.

He didn’t have any eyes or mouth. Where they should have been, strange white X’s had been drawn, so lightly she barely made them out from where she lay atop the rise.

A voice reached Téa 's ears. At first, she thought it came from behind her. She whirled in alarm, but she and Benny still crouched alone on the rise. Then the voice seemed to come from in front of her, in the camp. It echoed in her ears, in her mind, as if disembodied. The Mastermind decrees it is your turn to come into the fold.

Nigel’s reply came so softly, Téa barely caught it. Let us go. Let her go. Anger, bordering on demand, laced his voice, along with a note of desperation. I will come with you willingly if you let these others go free. Please, do not enslave them. Do not enslave my wife. His voice broke.

Why would we do that? The voice came again.

Téa understood that, somehow, the voice came from the gray, Shadow Man.

We have you in our grasp. Relinquishing power is not in our nature. Steel yourself if you must, but it will do you no good.

Téa didn’t think she’d ever forget the look that came over Nigel's face: unspeakable terror, mingled with profound despair. His freedom was gone. Taken by monsters who identified themselves with eight-legged vermin.

Nigel’s head snapped back while he rose up on his knees, his torso straightening unnaturally.

Téa gasped, silently clapping a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming, sure his neck had broken. Yet it hadn't. Nigel settled back onto his knees, his body falling into a more natural, kneeling posture.

Except now he didn't hold his wife. Or cry. Or see. His eyes became flat and dead, as Téa’s mother’s were.

Beside her, Benny sobbed quietly.

Téa’s mind whirled. What she’d just seen made no sense. Arachimen assimilated by touch, but no one had touched Nigel. How did they absorb him into the collective without touch? Fear clutched her chest. Breathing became harder.

One of the Arachnimen with his back to her turned, and Téa ducked behind the rise. Did they see her? Hear her gasp? More fear flooded into her. She lunged into action.

Crawling backward down the hill, she grabbed Benny’s hand and pulled him away. They moved carefully until they reached the tree line. Then Téa broke into a run.

Not everyone from her group knelt in the clearing, which meant two things. First, perhaps some got away and she could find them. Second, Arachnimen still searched the woods for the others. She’d have to be more cautious than she’d ever been in her life. Paranoid, like Papa used to be.

She hated to leave her mother behind. The thought brought tears to her eyes, so she pushed it away. Mother and the others were a part of the collective, now. No time for tears. Or grief. Or questions.

She needed to get away. Get Benny to safety. To Interchron. Perhaps it truly was the last hope on earth.

They stumbled past trees and through shrubs, branches whipping at their faces. Téa did her best to keep from falling, while dragging a stumbling Benny along behind her.

She realized she’d headed for the river, which her group had been following toward Interchron. She’d gone instinctively in that direction when she ran, knowing the water would hide their tracks and perhaps their scents. If Téa kept to the river's course, she might have some chance of getting Benny to Interchron, whether she found anyone else from their group or not.

Téa burst out of the woods, still dragging Benny behind her by the hand, and skidded to a stop. They’d reached the river, but come out much farther upstream than where they’d gone to get the water this morning. Now they stood on a precipice of sorts, a steep dirt embankment slid thirty feet downward before meeting the churning water.

Come on, Benny, she tugged him upriver, away from the Arachnimen—she hoped—and the empty husks that used to be their friends. The embankment climbed higher and became steeper before it descended to the water’s level again. Gotta keep going.

What about Mom? Benny asked, scrubbing his eyes with the fist Téa didn't hold.

Just...come on. Gotta keep moving.

She hiked aggressively up the slope, dragging her brother behind her, forcing her brain to focus on her foot placement so they didn’t fall.

Even so, questions churned through her mind. How would she hide them? Protect them? Stay ahead of the Arachnimen? Were they truly alone now?

What about food? She knew little of finding food out here, and Interchron must still be days away. It would certainly take Téa longer to find it than it would have the adults in her group. Could she and Benny go so long without food? Perhaps she—

She sucked in a breath as a dark figure stepped out in front of her. The gray Shadow Man that oozed darkness and had no features.

Benny wrapped his arms around her waist from behind and buried his face in her back. Téa couldn’t take her eyes from the man. No, this was no man. The Creature.

Up close, she realized what she'd thought were X’s drawn onto his face weren’t drawn at all. They looked raised from his skin. Could it be thread? Why would someone sew his eyes and lips shut?

His skin was the strangest thing she’d ever seen, and not only in terms of color. In terms of anything. So gray, so dark, she wondered if he truly stood in front of her. As though someone had punched him from the fabric of reality, the way one punches out a paper doll.

Did you think I didn’t know you crouched on the other side of the hill, Offspring? You, and the other of your blood you protect?

Téa gasped. The Shadow Man's lips hadn't moved, but she heard his whisper in her ear. Felt little puffs of air, as though his lips hovered directly above her lobe.

You will join us in the Fold.

Tears formed in Téa’s eyes. How would she prevent this? Please, she whispered, not sure what to do except beg. Please don’t. My brother—

Will be one with us, one with you, soon enough.

Please, she babbled. We’re so close. Take me, if you must, but let my brother go to them.

The Shadow Man turned his gaze on her, and all feeling drained from her body. She didn’t think she’d ever get warm again.

You seek the Separatists. Where are they? What is your destination?

Realizing she’d made a huge mistake, Téa’s mind whirled. I...don’t know. My father knew.

The Shadow Man turned as if to look toward where Téa’s mother probably still knelt. Too much foliage stood between him and the clearing for him to lay eyes on Téa 's group. Still, Téa felt certain he still sensed them in some way.

She shivered, then jumped when the raspy voice again fell into her ear.

Tell me. Is the Vanished One among them?

He turned to look at her and the cold in her core intensified.

Th-the what? she whispered.

It makes no difference. The Dark Matter stands ready for activation. If your progenitors know the location of the Separatists, we shall find out for ourselves now that we’ve brought them into the fold. In six days’ time, the entire world shall be ours.

Téa sensed something, then. A gathering of energy she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It felt red, angry. She'd sensed the same thing before her father became the Darkness, as Benny put it.

She thought of Nigel’s body jerking.

She must save Benny.

Knowing she had precious little time, Téa made a decision. Her parents couldn’t protect them and so, for all of fifteen minutes, Téa thought her turn as protector had come. That, it seemed, would not be the way of things either.

Whirling toward Benny, she fell to one knee and wrapped her arms around him. I love you, Benny. Mom and Dad loved you too. Don’t let them catch you. Go to Interchron. Don’t look back.

Benny dug his fingers into her arms as he clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder. No, Téa. Don’t. Don’t leave me. Don’t become the Darkness.

Benny, the red energy swirled and grew behind her. She pushed Benny back and peered into his face, talking faster. I have an important mission for you. It’s the most important thing you’ve ever done in your life. You have to get to Interchron.

The Shadow Man's energy felt monstrous now, hovering over them as they knelt on the bank of the river.

Tell them what happened, Benny. Tell them Dad became the Darkness. She gripped Benny's forearms tightly. Tell them Mom is gone. Her voice broke and tears coursed down her cheeks. Tell them the Shadow Man is coming. Tell them to fight darkness with Darkness. I love you, Benny.

The energy coiled, ready to strike. Téa felt it. She forced Benny onto the ground and shoved him, sobbing, over the precipice. Benny didn't fight. Téa registered Benny's resigned, tear-streaked face as he rolled away from her. The embankment sloped steeply. He would probably get hurt on the way down, but she had to give him the chance to remain an individual. She prayed he wasn’t too young to understand, and take it.

Do you think your actions will keep him from us? the Shadow Man's voice whispered in her ear.

Téa didn’t bother to answer, or try to stem the tide of her tears. In truth, she didn’t know. She hoped—what hope remained now?—that somehow, some way, Benny would find safety. And freedom. Peace felt too impossible to wish for. Anything but slavery. Anything but the mediocrity of the emotionless collectives.

She knelt at the precipice, her back still to the Shadow Man. The looming predator of energy hovered above her, coiled tight like a spring. She knelt at its focal point. These men, the Shadow Man with his Trepid and Arachniman goons, had seen and sensed Benny. They knew the feel of his energy and would track him. Just as they got a taste of her family’s energy the day her father died.

Closing her eyes, and feeling a certain faraway pride to be following in her father’s footsteps, Téa reached out with her mind and gathered all the constructive energy she could muster.

Working as quickly as she could—she wasn’t as strong as her father and the Shadow Man might cut her off at any moment—she tamped the energy into a tight, heavy ball, as her father did that day. She wrestled more and more energy into the ball, forcing it to get heavier without getting bigger.

The cyclone formed faster than Téa would have thought possible. In seconds, the ball of energy became too heavy to be sustained by the surrounding ether. It bent out of sight, sucking more and more matter into it, the heavier it became.

She wrapped her own energy particles around the cloud of angry power the dark man had conjured. He’d meant for it to take away her freedom and force her unwillingly into the collective. She snatched it, pulled it into herself and embraced it. She fed it, with everything else close by, into the vortex of the black hole she’d created.

On the periphery, she felt the Shadow Man retreat. He relinquished the angry, red, enslaving energy and fled.

It registered with Téa. Barely. Already her life force flowed into the blackness as well.

Now, kneeling in the same place her father knelt, except hundreds of miles farther west, she understood why Benny called it ‘becoming the Darkness.’ Not all darkness was bad. Darkness absorbed light. Energy was light. That’s why this worked.

Téa understood instinctively. Better to give her light to protect her brother and die free than allow the collectives to win.

Her tears dried, her fear fled. Somehow, Benny would be okay. She believed that. Her senses went next. Sound, smell, touch, all gone. For an instant, she saw her father’s face. White light enveloped her.

Then it retreated, replaced by darkness. Her father’s face disappeared, replaced by a black face marred by white thread. If Téa could have screamed, she would have. Darkness clawed at her soul now, not light, and she had no way to stop it. Grayness and silence drowned her in oblivion.

The girl Téa was no more.

Chapter 1: Questions of Polarity

With a growl that sounded downright feral, Tenessa threw up her hands, turned, and stalked toward the other side of her sitting room.

Karl did his best not to smile at her retreating figure. He didn’t succeed. She reached the other side of the chamber and whirled toward him again.

"The Separatist is utterly...maddening."

Yes, well, Karl crossed his arms over his broad chest and leaned casually against the wall. We individuals can be maddening sometimes. That’s the fun of living.

We don’t believe in individualism! Tenessa growled. She’d said it three times today, her voice shriller with each repetition. Karl had visited her several times since returning from the Canyon, and she'd told him the same each time.

That’s okay, Karl answered cheerfully. It believes in you. He chuckled at his own joke.

She stared at him like he'd gone mad, which made him laugh harder.

Tenessa turned away, her silky dark hair falling off her shoulder as she did. The Separatist takes pleasure in coming here, unwelcome, every day, and tormenting us.

The grin slid off Karl's face. I come, and you never object, he said firmly. He straightened and crossed the room to where she stood.

She watched him come toward her without twitching a muscle. Something in her stance reminded him of a trapped animal, though she didn’t show fear. Only ferocity.

I’m not forcing anything on you, Karl said, more calmly than he felt. If you want me to leave, just say so.

She studied the floor and said nothing.

He knew it wasn’t because she wanted him there. Rather, she didn’t want to show weakness by being the one to ask for space. He stepped closer and grinned. I think you secretly adore my company.

Jaw hardening, she balled her fist and swung at him, a blow he easily evaded, stepping back and laughing.

You know, for someone who believes in passive, watered-down emotions, you certainly are a hothead.

Tenessa squared her shoulders and raised her chin. Emotions aren’t regulated outside the Union. It’s difficult for us to control them.

Karl shook his head. How did he make her understand how preferable emotions were to collective living? Especially when she’d lived in a collective her entire life, only emerging days ago, and against her will?

She'd been a thorn in his belly since he and Marcus found her on a battlefield, left for dead by the collectives. Marcus Healed her, saving her life. She'd repaid them with anger and bitterness.

What? She glared at him with her milky green eyes, and he realized he’d been studying her.

He heaved a deep breath. At least you’re hitting on universal truths, now. I wish you understood how profound they are.

Tenessa snorted and Karl raised an eyebrow.

As usual, the Separatist says strange things which make no sense.

Karl smiled again, letting his eyes roam around the cavern, while deciding how to answer.

Tenessa had been given accommodations equal to what any new resident of Interchron would be. Two large adjoining rooms were more than comfortable. One held a bed, wash stand, and closet, and facilities branched off it. The other, in which the two of them now stood, held mismatched furniture, including a table and two chairs.

Karl sat on the nearest piece of furniture—a cloth-covered stool with a short, laddered back that only reached to six inches above Karl’s posterior—and folded his arms.

Perhaps on the day you can follow my logic, you’ll finally understand why individualism is preferable to collectivism. The connections are there, Tenessa. You just have to be willing to see them.

We do not wish— She snapped her mouth shut abruptly.

To see them, Karl finished for her.

"That’s not what we were going to say." Her eyes blazed at him.

Karl allowed himself another small smile. He had entirely too much fun teasing her. He enjoyed it almost as much as he did teasing Maggie. Tenessa responded more and more readily to the name they’d given her—she became more of an individual every day, whether she liked it or not—but he’d still never heard her say ‘I’ rather than ‘we.’

Then what were you going to say? he asked patiently.

The Union is preferable to individualism. Not the other way around. She jutted her chin out stubbornly.

Karl’s lips twitched again.

Tenessa was a beautiful woman, though having grown up in the collective, chances were she didn’t know it. The collectives didn’t prize or acknowledge beauty. On the contrary, they did everything possible to stifle it.

Tenessa’s strange eyes paired with her olive skin made her look downright exotic. Yet, when she jutted out her chin like that, she took on the mien of a petulant child.

Karl found it amusing.

He got to his feet and walked slowly across the room toward her, taking his time and never breaking eye contact. It seemed to put her slightly off-balance, which was exactly why he did it. When he stood directly over her, he leaned forward.

Though she stiffened her knees, too stubborn to move back, she did lean away from him. He’d have missed such a subtle movement if he hadn’t been looking. When he spoke, he kept his voice quiet and steely.

If collectivism is preferable to individualism, then why did you save my life? I didn't ask you to do that. You must have known it meant never returning to the collective. If you’d killed me instead, they’d have welcomed you back with open arms.

She didn’t drop her gaze or move. Brave woman. Braver than most he’d met, anyway. She did swallow, though, a tightness appearing around her eyes. He’d seen it before. It signified a different emotion than anger. Fear or distress of some kind. Karl felt a pang of regret in his chest—he hated to cause her distress—but he had no choice if he wanted to get through to her.

When she spoke, her tone matched his. We experienced a moment of confusion. We’d been away from the collective too long. The Separatist’s influence on us....We didn’t know what we did.

So, it's my fault you saved my life?

Yes! Abruptly she did turn away then, physically shutting him out of her personal space. We do not accept that we cannot return. Her voice dropped so low, he strained to hear it. There must be some way.

Karl harrumphed, prompting her to turn an angry gaze on him. After several days with her, he’d learned to interpret her tells. He saw a difference between incorrect things she truly believed—notions he would have to find a way to disabuse her of—and things she knew weren’t true, but said just to be stubborn. Like believing she could return. She knew better. Karl felt sure of it. Fear kept her from admitting it.

"Maybe before you could have returned, Karl said firmly, and simply endured whatever punishment the collective doled out—"

She flinched, as she always did when he mentioned collective punishments.

—but when you saved my life in full view of dozens of collective cronies, the option evaporated. The second they have you in their sights, they’ll strike without impunity, Tenessa. You’ll simply be gone.

The flash of terror in her eyes came and went so quickly, he might have imagined it. He stepped closer and let sincerity seep into his face and voice.

No matter what you believe about me, it’s not something I’d want for you.

Tenessa took a deep breath and he thought he saw a tremor in her shoulders. She turned away from him again, placing the flats of her hands against the wall, as though it could protect her.

He’d have to remember that. His sincerity had more of a toppling effect on her than his anger or sarcasm. Than the two of them combined. Those, she could fight. The other, she didn't know what to do with.

Besides, he said. I prefer to be optimistic and believe that maybe, just maybe, you saved me because you're starting to like me. He grinned.

Tenessa glared at him. Optimism is foolish. It has no basis in fact or science.

True. Karl grinned. It’s pure hope. And I have the hope that you’re starting to like me.

Tenessa glared harder. What logic brings the Separatist to such a conclusion?

Karl shrugged. Isn't it obvious? You saved my life.

Tenessa stared defiantly ahead, at his chest rather than his face. We do not follow your logic.

Karl grinned again. I think I'm growing on you. Having enough of an emotional effect that you didn't want me dead, even if you can't stand me sometimes.

Tenessa turned her head to one side, not looking at him. When she spoke, her voice sounded soft. He thought she was trying to sound fierce, but it came out more desperate than anything else. "The Separatist cannot make us part of his plans. She whirled on him so abruptly, he nearly stepped back. He cannot make us give him information or betray our ideals."

No, I can't. But Tenessa, what if your ideals...are wrong?

She drew herself up arrogantly, dark hair swaying. We will never acknowledge such a thing. And do not call us by that name!

Karl smiled yet again, sadly this time.

We do not wish to speak of this anymore, Tenessa muttered sullenly.

Realizing he still stood in her personal space, that he’d more or less boxed her into a corner, Karl stepped back. He turned and walked back to his previous seat, but didn’t sit. Instead, he turned to find her watching him.

All right then, he cracked his knuckles. What shall we discuss today? Do you have a topic in mind?

Tenessa had proven more willing to speak of science than of emotion. She kept talking as long as the conversation remained detached and logical. When Karl attempted to apply it to emotion or lifestyle choices, the glaring and yelling began.

Karl initiated conversations simply to get her to relax and talk to him. He hoped eventually she'd let something advantageous slip. Their visits were far from boring. Tenessa's head housed a surprising amount of expertise. Karl had already learned a good deal about the collectives' knowledge base.

Now she looked guarded. The Separatist may choose the topic.

She'd said that every day too. He thought she had things in mind she wanted to know but didn't initiate the discussion because it would give him too much insight into her.

She was probably right. Perhaps one day she'd trust him enough to ask him about what was on her mind.

For now, he inclined his head. Okay. I don't suppose we can talk about the Council of Six today?

Her jaw hardened again and she jutted her chin out.

He merely nodded. He hadn't truly expected her to say yes. What do you know about particle influence, Tenessa?

Her eyes quickened in a strange way when he said her name. He'd noticed it before, but couldn't put his finger on what it meant. A twitch of energy in her irises made them look more alive than a moment ago. Subtle, yet he'd seen it too many times to deny it.

Tenessa's features settled into an emotionless expression. She folded her arms across her belly, the defiant stance contradicting her tranquil face.

Karl smiled, pretending not to notice.

We know enough, she said evenly. Particle physics is taught in detail in the Union. It aids in understanding our neurochemical abilities and how to maximize them.

Karl nodded. Good. Then you know everything in the universe influences...everything else.

She raised an eyebrow. A broad generalization, she said warily.

"My point is, when two things pass one another—planets, particles, electrons...people—they always influence each other. They can pass in close proximity, or be galaxies apart, but their effect on one another is still measurable. Even things not considered alive or intelligent have these interactions. They...bump into one another, give and take things from each other, affect one another’s polarity. He dropped his voice. Which I think is especially applicable here."

Tenessa raised a questioning eyebrow at him. Polarity? she asked.

I mean emotional polarity, he said, figuring she’d start shouting again.

Her eyebrows drew down in confusion.

Never mind. Karl waved his hand dismissively. Probably best she didn’t understand what he meant.

What is the Separatist’s pinnacle argument?

"My pinnacle argument is that you can't help but be influenced by me. Even if you could go back to the collective tomorrow, even if they accepted you with minimal punishment—"

She didn’t flinch so much this time as simply look away, yet the fear remained, strong enough to show up in her body language.

—You’d still be a woman who spent a great deal of time among individuals. Who lived as one of us for a while. Who saved the life of one in particular. He motioned magnanimously to himself. Who spoke to me for hours on end about individualism, emotion, and science.

He stood and walked slowly across the room, until he stood over her, looking down into her face. She put her gaze determinedly on the ground. One who had seeds planted in her mind by a separatist who genuinely cares about her well-being.

She opened her mouth, fury in her expression.

Karl held up a finger to forestall her.

Whether you admit it or not, it’s true, Tenessa. I affect you.

She dropped her eyes, chest heaving.

It’s not something you can escape from. The collectives will see it, if you go back to them. They’ll know it for what it is.

He lifted her chin with his index finger, feeling a slight tremor there. You might as well stay and make a life here. Going back to the collectives is certain death. Who would that serve?

She met his eyes, then. Something about the color made the smattering of freckles across her nose stand out. They softened her otherwise sharp features. Tenessa jerked her chin away from his finger, glaring defiance at him, and he dropped his hand. At least she gave no rebuttal.

A knock came at the door, and a pang of regret struck Karl. He often felt regret when his conversations with Tenessa came to an end.

Reluctantly, he walked to the door and leaned his head and shoulders through the barrier. Lila stood in the hallway, looking worried.

What is it? he asked.

Nat's back.

Karl raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. And?

I'm not sure, but something weird is going on, Karl. The sky...the moon...it's bizarre.

The...what? What's wrong with the moon?

Nat and Doc seem worried. Doc wants everyone to meet him out on the slopes. I need to find David. Can you get Maggie and Marcus?

Feeling distinctly uneasy, Karl nodded. Sure.

Lila hurried down the hall without another word.

Karl turned back to Tenessa. She'd craned her neck as if to see Lila in the hallway, though the invisible barrier covering the doorway would have prevented it. No doubt she'd heard their conversation clearly.

Looks like I'm needed elsewhere, Tenessa.

She is...the Protector's daughter.

Karl frowned. You mean Lila? Yes. Her mother is the Protector. Why?

She dropped her eyes and didn't answer.

Karl shrugged and turned to leave.

She wants you to find the Executioner and the Healer. Are they missing?

Karl guffawed. Hardly. The two of them have been holed up together since we all got back.

Her brow furrowed in confusion.

They're mates, he said.

Understanding came into her eyes, followed by scorn. A moment later, her eyes focused on him. Will you return? she asked levelly.

Karl arched an eyebrow. No emotion entered the question. Simply a for-her-information inquiry. Yet, she hadn't asked him that the previous two days.

Perhaps. It depends on what's going on with the...sky.

Tenessa's eyes shifted to Karl's face, a direct stare he couldn't quite read.

"Do you know what's happening?" he asked.

Tenessa raised her chin, her shoulders ticking backward. How would we know what is happening outdoors? The Separatists imprison us here night and day.

Karl rolled his eyes. Tenessa had two guards assigned to follow her everywhere, but she had permission to roam around Interchron.

You know you're welcome to go where you please. It's your choice to keep to your rooms.

She didn't answer, which surprised him. She always jumped into an argument whenever she could. Now she studied the floor, a disturbed frown on her face.

Not sure what to make of it, Karl turned to leave again. If I can't come back today, I'll see you tomorrow Tenessa. Perhaps by then, you'll be more optimistic.

She didn't answer. He left her frowning after him.

Chapter 2: Flashbacks and Diamonds

Aflash of purple light ...A rock formation...Brown boots walking across a room at eye level...Two large hands covering hers...A hand with an ugly back burn on the back...A woman standing in front of a broken light house...Blood on her hands...A whisper of a voice...The one called B cornering her in a glass room...Karl washed up on some jagged rocks, bleeding from the neck...Joan holding a baby...Clay on his knees, mouth open in a silent scream...Lila curled up in a ball, crying...Doc burning parchment by candlelight...

Fingertips brushing up her spine brought Maggie abruptly out of the dream. With a soft gasp, she jolted awake, her heart pounding in her temples.

Reality set in, and she relaxed, though her heart didn’t slow down right away.

She lay in a bed in a familiar room in Interchron. Not her own, though. Marcus’s room. Marcus’s bed. He lay beside her, the two of them pressed together between tangled sheets. Curled against his bare torso, she snuggled more deeply under his arm. Everything was silent. Peaceful. Except her heart rate.

Dim, cozy light filled the room, though as with all rooms at Interchron, the light sources, located up near the ceiling, remained unseen. The temperature felt comfortably warm.

Marcus moved his hand from her lower back to rest his palm gently over her ear, fingers playing with strands of her auburn hair, and pressed his jaw against her forehead. Sorry, he whispered. Didn’t mean to wake you.

She forced a smile. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.

You okay?

She nodded, shifting so her head rested beside his shoulder, rather than on it, and looked up into his face.

His medium brown hair fell forward into his eyes, emphasizing the large scar on his cheek. It always reminded her of an upside-down question mark, the round part cupping his left cheek with the straight shaft reaching from below his eyelashes to just above his left eyebrow.

She reached up to push his hair out of his eyes. Just dreaming the memories again. They always freak me out.

When she raised her arm, her bracelet slid down it, toward her elbow. Marcus glanced at it and his eyes softened.

You’ve figured a few of them out, though, he said gently, his color-flecked