Evolution

by R S Penney

  She got to her feet with Jack's arm slung around her shoulder and pulled him up too. Thankfully, he was able to walk, but it was a delicate procedure getting him back to the car. Harry was kind enough to open the door, and she helped Jack into the cruiser's back seat. Once they were settled, Harry got in beside her, and now she was sandwiched between the two of them. “Is Jack all right?”

  “He should be,” Anna murmured.

  Closing his eyes tight, Jack leaned his head against her shoulder and moaned his displeasure. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I wouldn't have made it out of there alive if you hadn't come.”

  Ben jumped into the front seat. “Move,” he said, looking at Pedro who gasped at the sight of that mask. “We've got company.”

  Anna twisted in her seat to look out the back window.

  The field stretched on for a good hundred meters before it ended in a line of trees with thick green leaves. From underneath the branches of those trees, three men in tactical gear emerged.

  “Oh no!”

  The cruiser veered off to the left before she could get a good look at them, heading back to the road that led out of here. “Everyone down!” she shouted, doubling over and pulling Jack down with her.

  The thunderous roar of gunfire filled the air, but very little of it hit them at first. A few soft pings of bullets striking the car's metal frame.

  Then the window on her left shattered, and something sped over her back, mere inches from her skin. “Harry?” she squealed. He was bent over beside her, grumbling about how he was too old for this, but he seemed to be all right.

  They were moving at break-neck speed.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Pedro hunched over with his head down and two hands gripping the steering wheel. He wouldn't be able to see the road like that, but she trusted him. Or did she? Well, it wasn't like she had much of a choice in the matter.

  Pedro sat up, looking through the windshield.

  There was a hard bump, and then the ride became a lot smoother with pavement underneath their wheels. She saw a line of trees on either side of them. By the Grace of the Holy Companion, they had made it out unscathed. Well, unshot, anyway. Jack was pretty beat up, but no one had taken any bullet wounds. “Get us back to the safe house,” she said. “I have a feeling Jena's gonna want to hear the good news.”

  Chapter 15

  The fog in his mind receded, and Jack realized that he was reclining in an easy chair in a room with brown carpets. A lamp on a small wooden table cast light upon the cream-coloured walls, and the windows to his right were covered by blinds. He could tell that night had fallen.

  A blonde woman of average height suddenly leaned over him and stared into his face with her lips pursed. “He's awake,” she said, straightening. “I still can't believe it. You're very lucky.”

  Anna strode past the chair from behind him, pausing to stand in front of him with her back turned. “We heal fast,” she said absently. “Our symbionts can deal with pretty much anything that doesn't kill us in the first hour or two.”

  The blonde woman stepped back from his chair with her arms folded, shaking her head in dismay. “You Keepers,” she muttered. “Injuries like that would have finished off anyone else, but him…”

  “What about me?” Jack muttered.

  “I'm not an expert in Leyrian medicine,” she answered. “After five years in the ER, I've seen things you'd never imagine, but never anything like you. From what I could tell, you had some pretty serious internal bleeding, which seems to have stopped. The bruises on your back and abdomen are fading. And I'm pretty sure there was some cranial trauma, though I can't do much to diagnose you from here. It's gone, by the way.”

  Jack closed his eyes, ignoring the sweat that matted dark bangs to his forehead. He touched three fingers to his temple. “Why didn't you take me to a hospital? Don't get me wrong; I'm grateful, but…”

  Anna spun around to face him.

  She stood with a hand pressed to her stomach, her head hanging as if this subject caused her distress. “Slade's been targeting hospitals,” she explained. “Along with many other public facilities.”

  “Hospitals,” the nurse said, “bus terminals, train stations…” A wince twisted the woman's features, and she shook her head with a heavy sigh. “The man seems to delight in causing civilian casualties.”

  Jack grunted.

  It made him sick to think of the things Slade had done. Him and Summer as well. The Nassai was exhausted; he could feel that much but little else. His symbiont seemed to be completely focused on the task of repairing his body, and she spared little attention for his conversation.

  Christ, he was famished! Too exhausted to eat, but he knew he would need to put food in his stomach before he went back to sleep. The energy to repair his body had to come from somewhere. Some of it came from Summer, but the rest was up to him.

  “I'll give you some privacy,” the nurse said.

  When she was gone, Anna came over to stand by his chair, smiling down at him in a way that almost took the pain away. “How are you feeling?” she asked in that smooth, gentle voice of hers.

  Jack shut his eyes and let his head sink into the cushion. “Like I've been run over by a truck,” he said, pulling the blanket up over his body. “Or forced to watch the first two seasons of Star Trek Enterprise.”

  “Well, your sense of humor's intact.”

  “Thank Heaven for small miracles.”

  Anna spun around, turning her back on him. She paced over to the far side of the room where a bookshelf was propped against the wall. “Jena will be calling a meeting in an hour. We need to make plans.”

  “Mind if I sleep through it?”

  “It would provide me with a sense of consistency in my life.” She turned, looking over her shoulder at him. “What you did…You and Harry and Ben…It was brave. I think we all owe you our lives.”

  Jack sat up with some effort and covered his face with his hands. He slid those hands upward to run fingers through his hair. “Well, that vice is pretty versa,” he said. “I would be dead right now without you.”

  Spinning around to face him, Anna leaned against the shelf with her arms crossed and smiled down at herself. “You ever think we should stop keeping track of how many times we've saved each other?”

  “If we do that,” he replied, “how will I guilt trip you when I'm painfully dismayed by your unsatisfactory Christmas gift?”

  She laughed.

  A few minutes later, she came back with some food – a bowl of vegetable soup and some chewy bread that Jack wolfed down in less than a minute. He knew that he should eat slower and savour the meal, but he just couldn't, and when there was nothing left but a few drops in the bowl, he was still hungry.

  There was something wonderful about having someone else look after you, about being cared for. Or maybe it was just Anna. She had a way of making him feel warm and safe. Somewhere deep inside, the same voice that cautioned him not to eat too fast also warned him that he shouldn't think too deeply on those warm, fuzzy feelings. Anna was someone else's partner. Not his. Perhaps if he'd been at full strength, he would have been able to heed that warning. As it was, he just let himself feel.

  “I knew you were here,” she said softly.

  “What do you mean?”

  Anna stood before him with her hands in her back pockets, smiling down at herself. “I could feel it somehow,” she murmured. “I knew that you were in the city and that you needed my help.”

  Jack smiled a lazy smile, then turned his head so that his cheek was mashed against the seat cushion. “I'm not surprised,” he replied in a rasping voice. “There's always been something special between us.”

  She flinched at that.

  “Sorry.”

  Anna sat down on the windowsill with her hands on her knees, hunched over to stare into her lap. “It's okay,” she said. “I'm just glad you're safe. Cathy–the nurse–she thinks you'll be better in a day or so.”

  “Good.”<
br />
  “I should go. Jena…the meeting.”

  “Okay. Thank you.” When she was gone, Jack chastised himself for not listening to that little voice. She wasn't his partner! He had no right to…But they had been friends for so long, and there was obviously something between them, and was Bradley the one she really wanted?

  No.

  No, he refused to indulge such thoughts. Anna could make her own decisions, and she hadn't picked him. They had bigger concerns: Slade, the Key…For once, Jack Hunter could be an adult and do the right thing. He squelched those feelings, letting himself fall asleep.

  Harry watched his girlfriend pace across the living room in a fury. With her hands shoved into the pockets of her trench coat, Jena stopped in front of the couch, glared at it, then spun on her heel and made her way back across the room.

  Harry looked up at the ceiling, rolling his eyes. “You've been at that for almost half an hour,” he said, sinking deeper into his chair. “Don't you think maybe you should try to calm down?”

  Jena stopped at the wooden table in the middle of the room, then turned and looked over her shoulder. “You haven't been here for the last week,” she barked. “The Bleakness itself has taken this city, and I can't do a damn thing to stop it.”

  “You've done plenty.”

  “Not enough.”

  Slouching in a wooden chair with his arms folded, Harry looked up to squint at her. “So what are you going to do?” he asked. “Sit here and blame yourself for all the things you couldn't prevent? Hey, maybe we should pin the black plague on you too!”

  The joke was a mistake – he knew it as soon as the words were out of his mouth – but thankfully, Jena didn't get the chance to bite his head off. The apartment door swung open, allowing Ben and Gabi to come in.

  Dressed in black pants and a gray hooded sweatshirt, the young man was much less imposing when you could see his face. “Harry,” he said. “Good to see you're still a master in the art of scowling.”

  “Where are the others?” Jena inquired.

  Gabrina somehow managed to make gray cargo pants and a faded blue t-shirt look as elegant as a ball gown. She stood with her hands clasped in front of herself, her head bowed respectfully. “Pedro is down at the station,” she said, “checking on some of the prisoners we brought in yesterday. Aamani opted to go with him.”

  “Great,” Jena snapped. “Half my people gone.”

  Ben stepped forward with his hands in his sweater pockets, chuckling as he shook his head. “Well, before you start planning the next raid,” he said. “There's someone you might want to talk to.”

  He detached the metal disk from his gauntlet and set it down on the table. A few seconds later, the multi-tool projected a hologram that hovered in the air, the transparent image of Larani Tal.

  Tall and slim, she looked almost imposing in a simple pair of black dress pants and a matching blouse with the top two buttons undone. Her hair was done up in a bun, pulled back from a sharp, angular face. “Director Morane,” she said with a nod. “It seems I must congratulate you.”

  Jena closed her eyes, bowing her head to the other woman. “I only did what was necessary, ma'am,” she muttered. “I wasn't going to sit back and let Slade terrorize over eight million innocent people.”

  “No, indeed. You did well.”

  “I take it you have good news?”

  Larani winced, shaking her head with a soft hiss. “I only wish that I could say as much,” she growled. “Slade's plan was quite effective. Now that communications have been restored, I was able to speak with the other teams who went to New York.”

  A lump settled into the pit of Harry's stomach, wearing him down. He'd only been here a few hours, but Gabi and Raynar had explained the nature of Slade's plan. Without communication, Keeper teams had been isolated, cut-off from each other. That was why there was only one ziarogat defending the jamming equipment; the rest were out hunting Justice Keepers. It made him sick.

  “At last count,” Larani went on, “twelve Keepers are dead along with several dozen officers of the NYPD. The soldiers that President Mitchell sent to clean up this mess are all missing. No one has heard from them. And that says nothing of civilian casualties.”

  “Jesus…” Harry whispered.

  “Based on the reports we've received, we estimate that Slade had at most twenty of his cybernetic soldiers spread throughout the city. Many reports describe encounters with the same creature. In most cases, a single ziarogat would accompany a team of ordinary soldiers and act as a kind of elite unit. Their job would be to isolate one Keeper from the rest of his team and kill him. The others would be too busy dealing with suppressing fire to lend assistance. A crude but effective strategy.”

  Larani's image floated in the air with her hands clasped behind herself, straight-backed and tall like a politician giving a speech. “As a result, I've decided that it's time for us to change tactics.”

  Harry wasn't sure that he liked the sound of that, but not being part of their official command structure, it really wasn't his place to say anything. So he waited, and he did what detectives do best; he observed.

  Jena looked thoughtful as she watched the hologram. He could almost see the gears turning in her head. “What did you have in mind?”

  A flash of anger played across Larani's face before she smothered it and regained her serenity. “Slade has proven himself to be a threat we can no longer afford to ignore,” she said. “Therefore, I'm creating a task force with a single mandate: capture Grecken Slade and prevent any further acts of terrorism. You will be leading that task force, Jena, and – if possible – I would like you to utilize the same people you do now.

  “It's no secret that your team has developed something of an infamous reputation. The other directors often question your decision to include intelligence officers, telepaths and now an artificial intelligence in your missions. But you've proven yourselves to be a thorn in Slade's side. And that's what I need.”

  “What about Agent Hunter?” Jena inquired.

  Heaving out a deep breath, Larani lowered her eyes. “I will require Agent Hunter's assistance in other matters,” she said. “However, I would be willing to loan him to you from time to time. Be advised, if any of you accept this mission, it will almost certainly mean leaving Earth.”

  “Who's leaving Earth?”

  Harry looked up to see Anna coming through the apartment's front door, framed by the light of the hallway. The girl took two steps forward, then looked up at the hologram with concern on her face.

  Larani's transparent doppelganger floated in the air with her arms folded. “You will definitely be going, Agent Lenai,” she said. “I can't speak for Agent Valtez, Mr. Loranai or Mr. Carlson, but you are being reassigned.”

  Anna shut her eyes, and for a moment, her face tightened with obvious sadness. Then she took control of herself. “Yes, ma'am,” she replied. “When exactly will we be leaving the Sol System?”

  “When the immediate crisis is ended,” Larani answered. “In the meantime, you're rendezvous with Directors Koss, Shinval and Sinaro. We're going to clear Slade's forces out of this city once and for all.”

  The hologram winked out.

  The others talked for a little while, debating strategy and tactics, but he found that he had very little to say on the matter. He was a detective, not a general; he'd do whatever he could to fight, but coming up with battle plans wasn't his forte.

  Thinking about the prospect of another bloody skirmish made him strangely aware of the N'Jal in his pocket. He kept it there when he wasn't using it – and he had decided to avoid using it unless doing so was absolutely necessary – but he was already feeling half-blind without the extra sensory information it provided. His mind was already starting to rely on the device more than he would like.

  What exactly had the Overseers done to him? He didn't feel any different, but that didn't mean much. He could do something that no other human could – he could control the N'Jal without becoming p
aranoid and aggressive – and there was no doubt in his mind that the Overseer he had encountered was responsible for this new-found ability. Maybe Jena was right to be apprehensive.

  This apartment belonged to one Pedro Juarez, a man that Harry would very much like to meet; though, like any good cop, the man was currently taking care of his own people. That left Harry with very little to do.

  Except one thing.

  Now is as good a time as any.

  A short hallway split off from the living room with a door in one wall that led into the bedroom. In typical cop fashion, the bed was neatly made and the small bookshelf was in pristine condition.

  Harry strode into the room with a hand pressed to his stomach, eyes downcast as he studied the floorboards. This is probably a bad idea, he noted. But Della will murder you if you don't at least ask.

  He tapped at his multi-tool.

  A hologram appeared mere moments later: a transparent woman in dark clothing who watched him with a quizzical expression. “Mr. Carlson,” Larani Tal said. “Is there something I can do for you?”

  Harry shook his head. “I'm not sure, Chief Director,” he said, stepping back from the hologram. “But I was hoping that I could talk to you about my daughter. She will be joining the initiate training program soon.”

  Larani frowned, and her face took on the focused expression of someone who was reading something on a screen. “Melissa,” she said softly. “Yes, I have reviewed her file; she looks quite promising.”

  “I was hoping she could train on Leyria.”

  “On Leyria?”

  Harry sat down on the mattress with his hands in his lap, blowing out a deep breath. “Earth is a dangerous place right now,” he explained. “And it would do her good to see a little more of the galaxy.”

  Tapping her lips with one finger, Larani watched him for a very long moment. “I see,” she said at last. “Mr. Carlson, forgive my bluntness, but have you asked the girl if this is something she wants?”

  “I wanted to see if there was a possibility first.”