The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [73]
“I'm afraid our eyes can deceive us right along with any of our senses,” Sparkman said.
Travis sighed. It was wrong, he shouldn't do magic without grave need. Except maybe this was important after all. He held out his hand, palm up, and whispered a rune. “Lir.”
It condensed instantly from thin air to hover above the palm of his hand: a small orb of light, not gold like the morning sun, but silver-blue. With a flick of his finger, he sent it whizzing through the air. The orb flew between Marty and Jay as the little man swore. It made several orbits around Sparkman's head, then returned to Travis's hand. He squeezed his fingers around it, and the light vanished.
Sparkman's eyes were wide now. He wheeled his chair closer to Travis. “Absolutely fascinating. It looked holographic, only you could move it at will. And unless you've hidden a laser up your sleeve, I have no idea how you created it.”
Travis shrugged. “I'm not sure I know, either. But it doesn't matter right now. That's not what I want to talk to you about.”
“And what do you want to talk about?”
Travis licked his lips. “Destroying something.”
Jay cast a startled look at Marty and Sparkman. “Hell, Travis—you're not going to go and try to blow something up, are you? People could get hurt.”
“No,” Travis said, holding a hand to his head. It ached from the cheap caffeine, and from fear. “I don't want anyone to get hurt. That's what I'm trying to keep from happening. And that's why I've got to destroy them.”
“Destroy what?” Marty said.
Travis wrapped his fingers around the iron box in his pocket. “I can't tell you.”
Marty's face was solemn. “Are they something evil?”
Travis shook his head. “No, not in and of themselves. But they could be used to create great evil if the Pale . . . if they fell into the wrong hands.”
Jay gave him a cockeyed look. “That sounds like something old Sparky here would say. Are you sure you're not hearing voices, too?”
Travis almost laughed. He was quite certain Jack would not want him to do what he intended.
And just what are you intending to do, may I ask? came Jack's testy voice. You've been awfully secretive lately.
Travis ignored him.
Sparkman stroked his beard, his expression thoughtful. “Destroying things is a perilous profession. Einstein showed us that a small amount of mass is equivalent to an enormous amount of energy. For example, did you know the nucleus of an atom has less mass than the sum of all the particles within it?”
Travis was beginning to agree with Jay. Talking to Sparkman made his head hurt. “But that seems impossible. Where is the missing mass?”
“It's not missing at all,” Sparkman said, smiling as he clapped his gloved hands together. “You see, breaking apart matter releases the force that binds that matter together. The difference in mass is the potential energy that would be released if the nucleus was broken apart.” He pulled his hands away from one another. “Of course, you would never be able to break apart just one nucleus. Free particles would strike adjacent atoms, causing a chain reaction. And if that reaction is uncontrolled, you have—”
“—a nuclear bomb,” Travis said.
Sparkman nodded. “At the very least. But then, even today's nuclear weapons create imperfect chain reactions. If the reaction was perfect, there would be nothing to stop it from destroying the world. Or even all the universe.”
Travis felt sick. There was something important here, something about what Sparkman had just said. However, before he could grasp the answer, a sharp crackle of static broke the silence, followed by a series of beeps and clicks.
“Oh, good,” Sparkman said, eyes lighting up. “Here they are now.” He fiddled with several knobs on the metal box in his lap. The static faded, and the beeps and clicks grew clearer. “They've been quiet all morning. I was beginning to think they'd gone, but they must still be here.”
Travis shook his head. “Who must still be here?”
“Why, the aliens of course.”
“The aliens?”
“The ones who've been abducting homeless people for their