Legacy (The Vs. Reality Series Book 3) Read online

  After a moments the details of the last several hours start to fall into place for Dia; tearing open a portal to the CIA lobby and demanding to speak with her father, his offer to let one of their psychics try and reverse some of the memory loss caused by Paige, and her surprise at seeing Mike back in a government position before he put her under hypnosis. “So...in the future I’m the leader of something called ‘The Federation’? What is that?”

  Mike shrugs before depositing the remainder of his muffin into a trash bin, and makes a feeble attempt to wipe the crumbs from his shirt and tie. “No idea – I just work here. The General should have some details about the future, though. I hear he got the full rundown from the Collectors when they came back through the Rift, along with the weapons and tech – all part of their deal. But that information is above my pay grade.”

  “You said something about going back in and retrieving more memories. Can we try it again? Now?”

  “Take it easy,” he says, motioning with both hands for her to take a seat on the couch.

  Still disoriented, she falls back into the soft cushions and massages her forehead.

  “We can’t rush the process,” he continues. “Your sister has been wiping your memory for years. We need to give you a break, let you process the information and then try again. It’s like putting together a dozen different puzzles that have been dumped into a giant pile. Sorting through the pieces is going to take some time, and there’s no shortcut. We could be at this for months before we make any significant progress.”

  An irritating buzz from his intercom interrupts their conversation. “Michael?” a nasally voice whines through the device. “Agent McCain and Agent Dunmore are in the lobby awaiting Miss Davenport. Bring her there immediately.” The transmission ends with a small burst of static, and as per usual, there is no additional explanation.

  A moment after Dia arrives upstairs in the lobby she’s met by a young man dressed in a black suit, flanked by two much larger men in security uniforms carrying assault rifles. She’s led to an elevator and down to the lowest basement level of the facility, where she’s marched through a series of narrow corridors with her entourage (who make no attempt at eye contact, let alone polite conversation). Each doorway they pass through requires a retinal scan and a swipe from her escort’s ID badge.

  After what seems like an endless trek through the labyrinthine basement levels of the CIA Headquarters, they arrive at an anticlimactic and unremarkable grey door. One of her escorts press it open, and at first glance Dia assumes that she’s being led into an interrogation room. As she steps across the threshold the man instructs her to wait until her father is ready, and to make herself comfortable until he arrives. Before she can turn to answer the door is shut and locked behind her.

  The walls, ceiling and uncarpeted floor are made of featureless concrete, and the furnishings are sparse to say the least. The only decorative items are a series of blueprints, taped to the walls in no particular order. She wanders around and studies the designs, marvelling at the detailed schematics of jets, bombs, and obscure war machines that defy description. They’re more than just elaborate – many of them seem otherworldly. With its angular design and oversized circular engine, one aircraft looks more like a space ship from a science-fiction movie than an actual plane.

  Before Dia can study it further The General enters. He offers her a cup of coffee and a seat across from him, separated by his small metal desk. He settles into his chair and stares at her for a few moments, fascinated by the woman she’s become. “Danica, you look...”

  “Older?” She replies tersely. “That’s what happens when you don’t see your kids for a couple of decades. Shit changes.” Dia catches herself staring back into his cold eyes, almost in a trance, wondering about his motives – the motives of a man she only knows from a handful of faded childhood memories.

  A few years ago General Davenport released a book of his memoirs, chronicling his storied career as the military leader of the United States. Curious about her father’s past and the years they’ve spent estranged, Dia purchased a copy on a whim. She eventually lost interest a few chapters in, as she typically does with books that don’t involve emotionally unavailable vampires dating teenage girls, but one chapter in particular stuck in her mind: a cynical take on humanity that stood apart from the upbeat, patriotic tone that saturated the majority of his autobiography.

  “The citizens of the twenty-first century are nothing more than cavemen with cell phones,” the paragraph began. “It is estimated that as far back as two hundred thousand years ago, people similar to modern man walked the Earth. And in that span of time technology has advanced dramatically, yet our core beliefs remain surprisingly similar to those of our primitive ancestors. Today, people are as tribal, xenophobic and easily frightened into irrational behavior as they were thousands of years ago. In the absence of rules and regulations – of a stable government – only a short time would elapse before the world would plunge into chaos.

  “We are violent. We are vengeful. And above all else, we desire an enemy. It is innate. When something fails us – be it the economy, our health, or our sense of security – our natural instinct is to congregate, and to assign blame. The fear and hatred of an enemy, either real or imagined, is the most powerful unifying force in the world. It is also the most dangerous one.”

  The chapter goes on to explain how, since the onset of recorded history, the planet has been at war. There has never been an extended period of time where every country has laid down their collective arms. According to General Davenport, technology has surpassed our capacity for rational thought by such a wide margin that we can no longer be trusted as a species; wielding the awesome power of modern weaponry is simply too much responsibility for any one nation to have, so his suggestion was put forth to disarm globally.

  And the New World Council was born.

  Even the most ardent supporters of the Council are aware that it was formed out of necessity, and not for the purely altruistic reasons that politicians would have them believe. After decades of expensive wars and military occupations, the United States was on the brink of a financial meltdown. Fortunately for them, so were a number of Asian and European countries, placing much of the developed world on equally precarious footing. Facing an economic collapse themselves, their leaders were desperate enough to put aside their differences and work together to form a single world government.

  Treaties were signed, alliances were formed, and most recently, The General’s vision was realized when nuclear weapons became a thing of the past.

  And that’s the contradiction of her father: someone who seemingly has so little faith in humanity, but has dedicated his life to preserving it; a man who spent a large portion of his life publicly championing peace, yet privately seeks unimaginable power.

  “I didn’t come here for a family reunion,” Dia snaps. “I came here for answers. Paige and my friends don’t seem capable of telling the truth, so I figured I’d give you a shot. As you can imagine I’m pretty desperate.”

  “All right,” The General says coolly, “I’ll tell you everything.”

  Dia exhales and her body deflates onto the uncomfortable metal chair. “I’ve been running forever. The Collectors have made my life hell, hunting me where ever I go. Then I find out you’re the one who hired them.”

  The General just stares back at her without a trace of emotion, and offers a small nod of affirmation.

  “I know you want this Compendium,” she continues. “And you think that I’m the key to getting it. But there’s one thing I just can’t figure out: wars have ended and the planet is more united than ever, and a lot of it is because of you. Why do you want Akashic?”

  “Because the world needs leadership,” he replies without missing a beat. “The United States is the greatest country in the history of civilization. We shouldn’t just be part of the Council, helping make decisions with the rest of the world – we should be the Council. One leader, one
final say.”

  “Interesting idea, but that’s the thing about empires, dad: over time they have a tendency to crumble. And even with the firepower that America used to have before the Council, you could never take over the rest of the world. It’s not possible.”

  The General’s expression changes ever so slightly, and his mouth stretches into a small but confident grin. “Empires crumble because they’ve always been limited by their technology, which is a problem that will be eliminated once I have Akashic. I won’t bring a hundred thousand troops into a country, wasting years of time and billions of dollars. I’ll forge a weapon that can decimate a country from halfway around the world.”

  Dia’s mind reels, her eyes darting around the room at the blueprints taped to the walls. She’s surrounded by images of unrealized weapons; tools of unlimited destruction that could one day become a terrifying reality. In a split second her father’s intentions become all too clear. “All the information you need to construct something that powerful would be in Akashic. With that database you’d have a thousand-year head start on the rest of the world. And since every nation has just disarmed their arsenals...”

  “There won’t be a nuclear response.” The General rises to his feet and he leans forward, placing his palms flat on his desk. “They’ll have no choice but to surrender, and become colonies of the new United States. Think about it: we can redraw maps and change policies the way we see fit. We can alter the course of history.”

  He’s been playing the long game. The Council, the treaties, the years of negotiations – it was all a premeditated plan to eliminate the one and only deterrent that could prevent a takeover of this scale: the threat of a nuclear retaliation. “We? So you and I are supposed to be a team now?” Dia rises and steps back, letting her metal chair clang to the floor. “This is insanity, dad. What you’re talking about isn’t even a dictatorship – it’s a fucking monarchy.”

  “At one point you thought it was the right thing to do.”

  She throws her arms apart, raising her voice in frustration. “And you know this how, exactly?”

  “I know because you were a different person in the future. Paige changed your memories. Changed who you really are.”

  “That’s fantastic,” Dia says, blurting out a caustic laugh “You knew what was happening to me as well, and you never bothered to tell me.”

  “Would you have believed me if I did?” He looks deep into his daughter’s eyes searching for an answer, but she offers no response. “Your sister is one of a handful of people with the ability to replace memories, and based on my intelligence reports, your behavior changed drastically after you returned from 3016. It wasn’t that difficult to piece together.”

  “I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Dia whispers, turning her back. “Or who to trust.”

  The General walks around his desk and stands behind his daughter, but cautiously keeps his distance. “Take a moment and just think, Danica: why have you been on the run from me? I never once instructed my agents to open fire on you, never once tried to have you harmed. I wanted us to reunite. Not just because of your gift, but because we belong together.”

  She shakes her head slowly, unconvinced. “And Paige doesn’t?”

  “She’s a different type of person. Your sister has always been more like her mother; withdrawn, deceptive. But you and I share an understanding. We both know that the world needs to be molded into something greater, and that won’t happen without a strong leader.”

  “You couldn’t possibly know that,” Dia says, spinning to face her father. “You keep assuming what I believe, but you don’t even know who I am anymore.”

  “You don’t know yourself, Danica. And that’s the problem. What do you plan on doing with all this power you have? If I granted you and your friends’ immunity right now, and called off this entire operation, where would you go? Would you retire to a tropical island, lie on a beach and drink piña coladas for the rest of your life? You’re not that kind of person...I can see it burning in your eyes. It’s the same fire you’ve had since you were a child. That person is still in there. We just have to find her.”

  There is nothing Dia wants more than to lift the fog and see her past clearly; to put a stop to her endless confusion and uncertainly. But she has questions that remain. “Is this the part where you say that you can help me?”

  “No,” The General replies. “It’s the part where I tell you that we can help each other.” He can sense her resolve weakening with each word that spills from his lips. “You’re not just a leader in the future – you’re worshipped. According to the intel I received, you’re feared and respected, and your power is nearly unlimited. Don’t you want that back?”

  Her eyes fall closed and she rubs her temples in frustration. “Even if I agreed to this crazy shit, and even if I wanted to help you, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I can generate that much energy again.”

  The General’s confidence resonates through his deep, weathered voice. “Once my new project is complete you’ll have all the power you need to make the transition. You’ll be able to re-open a portal and return to where you belong.”

  “And you’ll get Akashic in return.”

  The General nods. “I’ll create a more powerful America that can lead the world in the present, and you’ll be in the future to carry on our legacy. We’ll do something that’s never been done before, Danica.”

  She doesn’t answer for what seems like an eternity, and her mind reels in the deafening gulf of silence. Staring back at her father, the feelings of animosity buried deep within her start to melt away. She tries to remind herself of the darkness that he’s brought to her life, but her memory is awash with moments from her adolescence; the most innocent, sun-drenched highlights of her childhood float to the surface.

  Unexpectedly, The General tells his daughter exactly what she needs to hear. He offers her something more valuable that money or power, and gives her the reassurance that she’s been yearning for as long as she can remember. “This is where you belong, Danica – right here, with me. This is home.”

  Chapter Three – Palingenesis

  The Basement

  Paige jolts upright in her bed, awakened by the blinding flash and crackling sound of a portal being torn open. She brushes a mop of black hair aside and quickly adjusts her square-framed glasses, blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust her vision.

  Dia emerges just ten feet away, standing calmly as the glowing tear vanishes behind her.

  “I’m so glad you’re back,” Paige says with a small sigh of relief. She loops the purple streak in her bangs behind her ear and plants her feet on the ground, easing her way off of the mattress. “There’s so much I need to tell you.”

  “There’s no need,” her sister replies flatly. “I found my own answers.”

  “You did?” Paige asks. “How?”

  “I spoke with dad.”

  “What were you thinking?” Paige shouts, louder than she intends to. “He could have killed you.”

  “But he didn’t,” Dia fires back. “He did something that you didn’t have the guts to do: he told me the truth. Before you started wiping out my memories I wasn’t your pathetic, confused big sister. I was powerful. I was more powerful that you could ever hope to be. You took all that away from me because I was something you could never become, and it was killing you inside.”

  “You can’t believe that,” Paige pleads. “This had nothing to do with jealousy – I was trying to save you from yourself.”

  “Aww, really?” Dia replies, faking a sympathetic tone. “That’s so sweet. Well thank you for all of your hard work trying to pull apart my memories and make me someone I’m not, but I think I can take it from here.”

  “Listen...”

  “No,” Dia shouts, clenching her fists. “I’ve heard enough of your lies. Now it’s your turn to listen. I came back to let you know that I accepted a position as a consultant for the United States government, effective imm
ediately.”

  Paige’s eyes fill with tears. “I know you hate me right now, but think about what you’re doing.”

  “There is no ‘right now’, sis – this is the way things are. You turned me into a mindless puppet, and you’ve spent years pulling my strings. There is no forgiveness for that. No going back. And since I’ve got a hell of a lot more compassion than you seem to have, I came back to give you a warning: in twenty-four hours I’m opening a portal to this location, and dad is going to decide what to do. He might send a thousand troops, or he might just fire-bomb this entire place. Either way, I suggest you be somewhere else.”

  Paige sits back on the edge of her bed, frozen. Her eyes glaze over and her mouth opens slightly, but in her current state she’s unable to form a sound. Her worst nightmare has become a reality, unleashed on an unsuspecting world, and she’s powerless to stop it.

  Still in her manifested state, Dia tears open a new portal and prepares to step in. “And one more thing, Paige – It’s not ‘Dia’ anymore.” Her lips curl into a small, callous smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “My name is Danica.”

  Chapter Four – Opsimath

  Western Australia | January 26, 2012 | 10:44 am, Western Standard Time

  Brodie stumbles through the front door drenched in sweat, using his last ounce of energy to limp towards the kitchen and collapse onto a bar stool.

  Allison follows with no more than a single bead of perspiration rolling from her brow, and a tennis racket resting comfortably on her shoulder. She saunters in looking more like she just completed a photo shoot than a workout; with her tight blond ponytail, crisp white tank top and her matching skirt and runners, she certainly looks the part of an athlete – though during her days on the pro circuit she rarely played with full make-up and eyelash extensions.

  “So,” Paige shouts from the living room couch, peering over the top of a large leather-bound book. “How did the game go?”