Part 1 (1/2)

THE SEASON OF Pa.s.sAGE.

CHRISTOPHER PIKE.

PROLOGUE.

It was a nightmare. But Lauren Wagner did not know that. It's often that way with bad dreams.

[T-minus five minutes and counting.]

'We are not evil,' a voice said, deep inside Lauren's mind. 'We just enjoy our duty.'

Lauren felt anxious. The countdown was ending. At last she was leaving for Mars. Soon the shuttle's rockets would ignite and she would be hurtled into s.p.a.ce. All lights on the shuttle's control board shone green. Yet something was wrong. The lights were blurred, as if she were seeing them underwater. She tilted her head and found the rest of the c.o.c.kpit also cloudy. She tried opening and closing her eyes to clear her vision, but it did not help. In fact, her sight grew worse. The cloudiness puzzled her, as did her thoughts of duty, and evil.

[T-minus four minutes, thirty seconds, and counting.]

The computer's voice droned on. Lauren tried to move, but found her limbs strangely heavy, as if a ma.s.sive hand pressed down on her body. Of course, she had experienced such a sensation before, while undergoing high-gravity training in the centrifuge. Yet now the pressure made no sense. They were still on the ground, still on Earth. For a moment Lauren thought the problem might be a.s.sociated with her safety straps. However, when she checked the belts, she found that they were not tight. Her puzzlement deepened. It did not seem right, that a hold so weak should feel so strong.

[T-minus four minutes and counting.]

Lauren looked to her left, in the direction of the shuttle's pilot, Gary Wheeler. Crouched over a dark blue screen, he wore a white flight suit similar to her own. Because of his helmet, she could not see his face, not unless he had the occasion to look directly at her. Lauren knew it was Gary, though. Only an hour earlier they had boarded the s.h.i.+p together. It had been at... When had it been? That was odd - suddenly she couldn't remember exactly when they had entered the shuttle. She couldn't even remember if it had been in the morning, or in the dead of night.

[T-minus three minutes, thirty seconds, and counting.]

'Gary,' Lauren called, squirming in her seat. Suddenly, for no reason, her lower abdomen began to cramp, making her feel nauseated. 'Gary,' she repeated, 'I'm having trouble with my eyes. Gary?'

He didn't answer. He continued to stare at his dark blue computer screen, sitting as still as a statue.

'Gary, what's wrong?' Lauren asked.

'His soul has been bled,' a voice said inside her mind, the same voice that had spoken of duty and evil.

Lauren shook her head, trying to free her mind of the disturbing thoughts. But they weren't really thoughts, not her own at least. She recognized that peculiar fact even though she was having trouble recognizing much else. The shuttle was all wrong. Four windows that should have been looking up into clear blue skies were missing. Flickering rows of sober-colored lights had taken their place, purple lights that reminded her of spoiled flesh, red ones that could have been smeared with blood. Plus the shuttle's multiple computer screens were crawling with faint silver lines that turned with spiked edges into a dizzy infinity. Realization hit Lauren hard.

This was not the shuttle!

She was in the Hawk, the Martian lander!

[T-minus three minutes and counting.]

'Gary!' Lauren screamed. She tried throwing herself against the straps, in an effort to break free and reach Gary. Maybe he could tell her what the h.e.l.l was going on. Unfortunately, the cramps in her abdomen tightened further, into knots of cold pain, and she could barely move.

Her struggle was lost on Gary. He continued to sit silently, the faceplate of his helmet turned slightly away from her, an empty shadow.

[T-minus two minutes and counting.]

'Gary, are we on Mars?' Lauren cried. 'Why are we in the Hawk?'

'A little pinch and then, sweet,' the voice said inside her mind.

Lauren's anxiety now bordered on terror. Twisting to the right, she groped for a b.u.t.ton that would uns.h.i.+eld a window and let her see outside. The tip of her finger just reached it, and as the window's metal cover slid aside, she gasped in shock. Outside was a sea of molten lava, a turbulent landscape of incandescent mud and erupting geysers. Even as she watched, a shower of sparks splattered the window, leaving behind a filth of dark glowing embers. There was no mistaking what was happening.

They were sinking slowly into the sea of lava.

'Gary!' Lauren screamed again. She was having trouble breathing. The air was suddenly filled with sulfur fumes. They seemed to sweep up from beneath her seat and loop around her head like an invisible garrote, choking her.

[T-minus one minute and counting.]

Summoning the last of her failing strength, Lauren threw herself again against the straps. This time she was able to move several inches. She reached over to touch Gary's leg. But instead of feeling the smooth surface of his flight suit, her fingers encountered a scaly hide, oozing with sticky mucus.

[T-minus thirty seconds and counting.]

'No,' Lauren moaned, snapping back her head in revulsion and pressing herself as deep as possible into her seat. It was then, finally, that Gary slowly began to turn toward her.

At last Lauren's vision cleared.

Grinning at her from inside his helmet was a skull. Not an old skull, something that had lain abandoned in a sandy desert for a century or two, but a fresh skull, white and moist, a fresh victim of unspeakable crimes. It was as if Gary's head had just been picked clean by a swarm of maggots.

'Kiss me, baby,' the voice inside her head said. 'Lick me.'

The hollow sockets were black as deep s.p.a.ce, lightless holes that had never looked upon a bright sun, not even in life. Yet within them Lauren sensed a cruel intelligence. The naked jawbone moved. Again the voice spoke inside her mind, and now there was no question about its origin. The skull was talking to her.

'Do you wish to be immortal?' it asked. 'Certainly you don't want to die. I understand that. It's what makes us so alike.'

A bony hand reached out. The flesh had been chewed away from the fingers as well, although they dripped mucus. They grabbed her leg and clawed up her inner thigh. The cold knots inside her abdomen hardened into lumps of ice and the skull chuckled obscenely. It was then that Lauren finally recognized its purpose, and rape was the smallest part of it. Together they would return from the fourth planet, from a world no human being could have imagined. Together they would be made immortal, but in a way no G.o.d or angel had ever meant. It was all part of the plan, she realized, part of the curse. She began to weep.

The thing stood up. The skull stared down at her with gloating pleasure. A second sharp hand, a claw, reached out and pinched the inside of her leg, tearing her flesh, bringing the flow of blood inside her suit. She couldn't move, not an inch. She was numb to the bone, yet she felt everything in the sharpest way. Her blood was as cold as the ice in her guts.

[T-minus five seconds and counting. Four. Three. Two. One.]

The shuttle's rockets fired, and as they did, the thing bent over her, and its shadow covered her in a thick blanket of despair. Yet not so thick that Lauren did not cry out one last time for someone to save her. She cried...

BOOK ONE.

The Garden.

ONE.

'Don't touch me!' Lauren Wagner screamed. Still caught in the web of her nightmare, she shoved at the small hand that held her arm. Jennifer, her younger sister, fell to the ground atop a scattering of pine needles. But Jennifer quickly sprang to her feet and reached out once more.

'Jenny,' Lauren said, disgusted when she saw what she had done. Her T-s.h.i.+rt was drenched with sweat and her heart was pounding. She gave Jennifer a quick hug. 'Are you OK? I didn't mean to push you. I was having a nightmare.'

'I'm fine,' Jennifer said, more serious than startled.