Evolution

by R S Penney

  Once again, his multi-tool buzzed with an incoming call. Harry ignored it. He didn't want to talk to Jack right now; if news of what he had done here made it back to Jena, he didn't want Jack or Anna catching trouble for his decisions.

  The foyer just inside the front door led to a small kitchen with linoleum floor tiles and brown wooden cupboards making a ring around the room. In the back corner, he saw a set of stairs that led down to the basement.

  He took the steps two by two until he found himself in a drab room with a concrete floor and wooden shelves along two of the four walls. The only light came from a single bulb in the ceiling; it took him half a minute to find the switch.

  Sucking on his lower lip, Harry shut his eyes. “You can do this, Carlson,” he told himself with a nod. “Besides, it's too late to back out now. You already violated the old man's rights.”

  He thrust one hand toward the floor, seeking with the N'Jal. What he wanted was down there, all right. Maybe a good fifty feet deep, but it sensed his urgency and began tunneling its way up to the surface.

  The room seemed to rumble, tools and knickknacks on the shelves shaking, some falling to the floor. It sounded like an earthquake, but if luck was with him tonight, the neighbours wouldn't notice anything.

  Something burst through the floor, spraying chunks of concrete into the air. A thick column of flesh rose out of the hole to form a pillar roughly as tall as Harry's chest with a perfectly flat top.

  He stepped forward.

  Gritting his teeth with a hiss, Harry shook his head. “How do you get yourself into these messes?” he asked, stopping in front of the humming Overseer device. Right then, he felt disgusted with himself.

  Gently, he touched the device with the hand that didn't carry the N'jal, allowing it to interface with his nervous system. Images flashed in his mind: inhuman faces and planets spinning off into the empty night. A sun that might have been his own – there was no way to tell – glowing bright and yellow in the darkness.

  There were sounds his mind couldn't process and emotions that felt utterly alien to him. Characters that belonged to no language he had ever read. And there was a hissing that made his flesh crawl.

  Harry winced, tears rolling over his cheeks, dripping from his chin. “Come on!” he growled at the device. “Hurry the fuck up! You wanna mind-screw me? Well, get the fuck on with it, already!”

  The knowledge flooded his consciousness – so much that he couldn't make sense of it all – but he managed to transfer it all to the N'Jal. Ven could sort it out later. Harry was just the god damn mule.

  The vision ended.

  Harry stumbled backward, lifting a hand to his eyes and wiping tears away. “Well, wasn't that fun?” he whispered. “The hot new ride they should put in every theme park. Christ, I'm starting to sound like Jack.”

  He couldn't just leave the pillar here.

  This time, he used the hand with the N'Jal when he touched the damn thing, feeding instructions into its nervous system. The pillar screeched in protest – it was alive, after all – but he forced his will upon it.

  The pillar let out one final screech, and then it went suddenly, painfully still. The colour drained out of its flesh until it was nothing but a gray husk. Then it blackened and collapsed to a pile of dust.

  Anyone else who thought to use that thing to recover the final cipher would find nothing but disappointment in this basement. He couldn't do anything about the hole in the floor, but…Well, his job was done.

  He turned and went up the stairs.

  A trip to the ER on Earth was a little different from what Anna had grown used to on her world. The last time she visited a hospital on this planet, she had been unconscious and losing blood fast. She never had a chance to really take stock of the experience.

  As a girl, she had broken her arm while trying to climb a tree. She had to go at least one branch higher than Devin Sindelo – the boy had honestly believed that since he was bigger, he would have an easier time of it – but Anna had reached that higher branch only to have it snap and drop her a good fifteen feet.

  Her mother had been livid.

  Sierin Elana had never really understood her youngest daughter's need to outpace the boys in every race, to always climb a little higher, explore a little further. Her people had made enormous strides in gender equality compared to Earth, but it was amazing the kind of ideas that hid in a person's head, passing unnoticed from generation to generation.

  Some people still believed that physical size was the determining factor in physical ability, and since women were, on average, smaller…

  Anna was used to med-bots when she visited the ER, bots that would scan her and create a report for triage nurses. Her fractured ulna had been repaired by a med-bot under a doctor's supervision. Things were different here.

  Jack had rushed her to the ER only to have a triage nurse say that she looked to be in good shape. By the time a doctor had finally seen her, nearly an hour later, Seth had healed the worst of it, leaving her with nothing to fear but pain and exhaustion. They had sent her home with some pain killers.

  The view through the window in her motel room showed a nearly empty parking lot under the night sky, but the neon sign from the bar across the street was quite visible. The odd car would rush by every now and then.

  Anna sat on the edge of the mattress with her legs together, head hanging from the weight of her fatigue. “You really don't have to do this,” she muttered. “I just need some sleep and a hot bath.”

  Jack dropped to his knees in front of her, looking up to study her with his gorgeous blue eyes. “In a motel bathtub?” he asked, eyebrows rising. “I don't know, An. You really want another trip to the hospital?”

  She smiled into her lap, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks. “I have endured worse than this, you know,” she teased. “One time, I even managed to get shot right through the chest. Now, that was touch and go.”

  “I recall being there for you then too.”

  “You were.”

  Jack pressed an ice-pack to her cheek, and she leaned into it, closing her eyes and sighing softly. “Thank you,” she whispered, gently placing one hand on his forearm. “I really am glad you're here.”

  He was smiling, shaking his head with a burst of rueful laughter. “Always willing to help lick your wounds…” Suddenly, he stiffened as if realizing the implication of what he had just said. “And hello to the grossness. Jack Hunter is really the king of suave this evening. Tip your server, folks; it's bound to be a good show.”

  Tilting her head back, Anna squinted at the ceiling. “You're not the one with cause to feel embarrassed.” She heaved out a deep breath. “I figured after I took down Wesley, I would be able to handle him, but-”

  “Slade is in another weight class.”

  Anna squeezed her eyes shut, then shook her head with a growl. “Not the analogy I was looking for,” she whispered. “I was just thinking about how people assume that size means you're…Oh, never mind.”

  Jack got to his feet, crossing his arms and glaring at her like a teacher standing over the desk of a disobedient student. “You do realize that Slade hurled me through a wooden beam, right?” he said. “The guy is insanely powerful.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Covering his mouth with three fingers, Jack shut his eyes. “I can only think of one explanation,” he muttered under his breath. “Slade has a Nassai, but the Overseers have somehow…enhanced him in other ways.”

  Wincing hard, Anna groaned. “When he looked in my eyes…” The experience left her feeling uneasy in ways she couldn't quite express. “There was something…”

  Once again, Jack knelt before her, and this time, there was an intensity in the way he looked at her. “He saw the most beautiful thing he'll ever see,” Jack whispered. “The spark of defiance in you. That zeal for life.”

  Just like that, her fear and sadness and shame melted away. The pains in her body were now only a vague memory, barely even noticeab
le. The only thing she knew in that moment was that her best friend was the most wonderful person she had ever met, and she loved him.

  Jack wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tender hug. Without thinking, she leaned her cheek against his shoulder and sighed. “How do you do that?” Anna said. “How do you make everything all right like that?”

  Instinct kicked in.

  She pulled back, blinking at him. “How do you do that?” Gently, she took his face in both hands, and then she kissed him. She full-on kissed him. After a few seconds, it became clear that he was kissing her back.

  It was perfect.

  Until the moment when she remembered that Jack wasn't her boyfriend. All those warm, fuzzy feelings were smothered by a wave of guilt crashing through her like a tsunami wrecking a cute little beach-side village.

  Anna pulled away from him, sucking on her lower lip. She looked down into her lap and tried to maintain her composure. “That was wrong,” she whispered. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

  Jack shut his eyes and drew in a deep breath. “You're not the only one who did it,” he said, getting to his feet. “And you're not the one who is operating with the benefit of a clear head.”

  “Don't do that.”

  “Do what?”

  Anna looked up at him with tears on her cheeks, blinking a few times to clear her eyes. “Find a way to make it your fault,” she answered hoarsely. “This one is very firmly on both of us.”

  He backed away from her with his arms crossed, refusing to look up and meet her eyes. “Well, we can play the Reverse Blame Game all night,” he said. “Or we can try to answer the more important question: what happens now?”

  “I don't know.”

  “Me neither.”

  With a heavy sigh, Anna stood up, but her chest felt like it would cave in from the force of the guilt pressing down on it. Making eye-contact wasn't an option. “I think we should both take a little space right now.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good night, Jack,” she said. “I'll talk to you tomorrow.”

  When he was gone, she curled up on the bed and she sobbed. She sobbed despite the aches in her body, despite the flare of pain that accompanied every breath. She sobbed because she knew what she had to do.

  And she hated having to break someone's heart.

  Jack wandered the parking lot for the better part of an hour, wondering just what to make of everything that had happened. If Ben were here, the other man would probably tell him to be optimistic; somehow, Jack knew better.

  Anna's reaction hadn't been that of a woman who had just realized that her true love was right under her nose. No, there was something off, something not right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew.

  When he pushed open the door to the room he shared with Harry, he found the other man standing in the space between the two beds with his back turned, staring at something on the back wall. Harry still wore his gray suit, and he seemed to be all right, but something was off here too…

  Chewing on his lip, Jack looked down at himself. “Okay then,” he said, stepping into the room. “Where the hell have you been for the last three hours? You know, we had a visit from Slade.”

  Harry's shoulders slumped, but he kept his back turned. It was as if something had drained the life out of him. “Get Anna,” he said. “We're checking out and going home. I already have the third cipher.”

  “Come again?”

  “The third cipher.”

  Jack closed his eyes, suppressing a surge of irritation. “Yeah, I actually picked up on that part,” he said, shutting the door behind him. “What I really wanna know is how you managed to get it without arousing suspicion.”

  Harry whirled around to face him with hands shoved in the suit jacket's pockets, a blank expression on his face. The classic interrogation room stare. “That doesn't matter,” he said. “What matters is I have it.”

  “No, that's not shady at all!”

  “We don't have time to argue-”

  “Look, I know you're happy you decided to go Section 31 yourself a piece of alien technology,” Jack growled. “But there was a time when the squeaky clean Harry Carlson would never get his hands dirty by breaking the rules. So, maybe you'd like to have a seat and tell me exactly what you did?”

  The only answer he received was silence and a blank stare from Harry that lasted at least thirty seconds. After that, the man just started fiddling with his multi-tool. As if they didn't have enough problems! It seemed as though the whole team was falling apart.

  Dropping into the chair next to the door, Jack set his elbow on his knee and planted his face in his hand. “You see this for what it is, don't you?” He looked up, blinking at the other man. “That thing you carry around with you is twisting your mind.”

  Harry winced, hissing under his breath. “I feel perfectly fine,” he said, sitting on the edge of one mattress. “The N'Jal hasn't made me violent. We needed a way to recover the third cipher, and I found it.”

  “By killing a man?”

  “Killing?”

  The other man looked up at him with an open mouth, his cheeks flushed to a deep crimson. “You think I killed Patrick Osborne?” Harry protested. “Jesus Christ, Jack! You should know me better than that!”

  “Then what did you do?”

  “I put him to sleep.” When Jack opened his mouth to reply, Harry raised both hands and cut him off. “I mean literally! I used the N'Jal to put him into a deep sleep, and then I recovered the third cipher.”

  Well, at least it wasn't lethal, but it was still assault. It occurred to Jack that this was exactly the kind of case that would fall under Keeper jurisdiction: an assault with a piece of alien technology. So, should he arrest his friend? Haul Harry up to Station Twelve in a pair of handcuffs?

  Would he be hesitating if the perpetrator wasn't one of his closest friends? Or was it really that simple? Chances were they needed Harry to…do whatever it was they needed to do when they found the Key. Jack still wasn't entirely clear on that part. Nevertheless, the question of expedience versus justice was a difficult one.

  At one point in his youth – a time so long ago, it seemed to be nothing but a foggy memory – Jack had promised himself that he would choose justice every time. So now, was he a failure for being unable to live up to that promise?

  “You're a criminal, Harry.”

  “I know.”

  Baring his teeth with an angry hiss, Jack shut his eyes. He touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead. “I don't know where we go from here. But at least we have the cipher.”

  “We do,” the other man replied. “But if Slade is lurking about, we really shouldn't wait around to see if he'll try to take it from us.”

  “Agreed,” Jack said. “I'll get Anna. You get us checked out.”

  As he left the room, it occurred to him that perhaps he should have reversed those two jobs; Anna probably didn't want to talk to him, right now. Of course, Harry would have wondered why he was the one being sent to collect their spunky strawberry-blonde colleague. There was just no winning. That ought to be the motto for Jack's life.

  Ain't no winning here, and there never will be.

  Chapter 23

  The “corridors” of an Inzari ship were like passageways through a dark labyrinth of caves: dimly-lit and imposing. Worse yet, each step brought the expectation of hard rock beneath your feet, but instead you felt only the squish of flesh. In fact, Slade wasn't sure this tunnel would have existed if not for his presence. The ship seemed to configure itself to suit his needs.

  At the end of the corridor, an open, dome-like chamber was lit only by the reddish glow from the walls. The Inzari was waiting in there; he couldn't see the creature, except for a slight ripple when it moved, but he knew.

  He stumbled into the chamber with his hands on his knees, bent over and gasping for breath. “I have failed,” Slade whispered. “Lenai and her people have recovered the final cipher. They will soon cont
rol the Key.”

  The Inzari did nothing.

  A moment later, Slade became aware of his own doppelganger standing just a few feet away, watching him through dead eyes. “You have the means of tracking them, do you not?” it asked.

  Clenching his teeth, Slade shut his eyes and drew in a hissing breath. “Yes, I do,” he confirmed. “But the resources you gave me were expended in New York. What few men I can gather will be no match for a team of Keepers.”

  The other Slade stood with his arms crossed, a tight frown on his face. “The Fallen Ones and their proxies must not control the Key,” he said. “You will serve your function and prevent this outcome.”

  “And if I cannot?”

  “Then you will have become a defective tool.”

  Slade dropped to his knees, lacing his hands together over the top of his head. He stayed low, making his obeisance. “Hunter and Lenai,” he whispered. “Why have you allowed them to come back?”

  The other Slade was as still as a statue, contemplating a response. “We know not of what you speak,” he said at last. “Hunter and Lenai are not here of our design.”

  That should not have been possible.

  The very thought of it left him feeling sick inside, knocked his world off its axis and left him to scramble desperately for something to hold on to. Could the Fallen Ones be responsible for Lenai's presence? He was wise enough to avoid asking the question. The ways of gods – even fallen gods – were not his to judge.

  A tingling flared up in his fingers. Or perhaps he was just more aware of it in the light of his fear. The truth was, his body had been tingling ever since his encounter with Lenai. The girl had dealt him no small amount of damage, and his symbiont was working tirelessly to heal his body.

  But the creature was old, and he had pushed it beyond what a normal Nassai could endure many times. Not even Isara and the others were so cavalier with their symbionts, but then, they did not have the Inzari's favour.

  “I require rejuvenation,” Slade said.

  His doppleganger nodded.

  The chamber floor began to writhe, a crater forming and then splitting apart to become a deep pool of glowing purple liquid. Its radiance was enough to fill the entire room and reveal the Inzari's silhouette. Slade didn't look too closely. The shape of that thing did not sit well in the human mind.