Hybrid

by Greg Ballan

  "Bury it," he ordered.

  On his command, the series of small charges set above the chamber detonated. Tons of rock and debris fell on top of it, completely burying the Mothership inside the huge mountain of rock and debris that had been created when the ship initially crashed into the giant hillside. Jakor studied the mountainous landscape that contained their ship and its new occupants.

  He shuddered involuntarily at their fate. The beasts seemed to only obey the soldiers of their kind, and there were no soldiers left to command them. He could not imagine a more terrible fate than to be imprisoned as food for some genetic mutant monsters. He shook his silvery head, then turned his powerful shoulders and headed back toward their main encampment.

  What will be our fate? They could no longer live in this world, and they had no more resources to leave the main landmass they inhabited.

  Chapter 13

  A seed of hope is planted

  The sun was setting as Jakor settled himself in his quarters. This had been the most trying of times. The fighting was over and the prisoners entombed. There was little else for a soldier to do to occupy the time remaining.

  Jakor was tired – a deep down tired from physical fatigue and mental anguish. There would be a black stain of guilt upon his race for what they had done this day. Whether History remembered it or not, Fate would not forget, and Fate had a way of making all who defied her pay and pay dearly.

  He settled his massive frame on his spartan bed and closed his eyes. He relaxed each part of his body, allowing the deep sleep to take him.

  "Jakor!" a voice whispered in his mind. "Jakor, please reply,"

  The soldier opened his eyes and became alert. "Who is contacting me?" he replied, broadcasting a general telepathic reply.

  "You must come to the Great Hall in the Council. We will meet you there."

  Jakor stood, and made his way to the Council Chamber. He entered the vast hallway that was created from living rock, and made his way toward the Great Hall. He quietly entered the hall from a seldom-used doorway and studied the seemingly empty chambers. He could sense the presence of others, and knew that they were deliberately concealing themselves. Jakor walked into the open, stopping at the large podium.

  "I have come as you requested," he began. "Why do you hide from me?"

  "No one is hiding, Jakor, we are just making sure that you have come alone." The elder made his way down from the aisles of seats.

  Jakor was shocked to see the Council Elder along with the two most senior members of their committee.

  "Elder!" Jakor began. "Why have you summoned me in this way?" He was more puzzled than angry.

  "There is one last great deed that we must accomplish, soldier, and it cannot be done without you. The four of us represent the highest members of our sects," the Elder explained.

  "Mishall is the premier scientific mind left to us now that Sennek has expired, Kaylar is our finest cleric, and I am the most gifted in the scholarly pursuits. You, soldier, are the strongest, most powerful of us all. You are a product of a combination of all of us. We need your genetic traits, along with ours, to pass on to this race of beings dominating this planet. Our time must soon end. This world belongs to them now, not to us. But, we can leave some of them the knowledge of our race – in an indirect way – to use and hopefully to avoid the mistakes that we made."

  "How is this possible?" Jakor asked.

  "By utilizing a sentient micro virus," Kaylar replied. "We take our own genetic material and implant it into one of our engineered micro viruses. The virus will then be programmed to seek out certain host bodies that will be the most compatible hosts for our particular genetic traits. Those with enhanced knowledge and intellect will likely become hosts for the virus that contains the Elders or Mishall's genetic material, those superior in the warrior skills will be infected by the virus carrying your genetic traits. Only a scarce percentage of those who possess these traits will be ideal matches, but only the ideal matches will benefit from the gift. The virus will keep searching, moving from host to host until the perfect hosts are found."

  "What then?" the soldier asked as his interest peaked.

  "It will then combine itself with the host DNA and become a part of that being's genetic pattern, passing along the enhanced coding to its offspring for generations to come, ensuring that what we were will always be somewhere within the native species of this planet," Kaylar replied.

  "I understand, but why would you do this? There is an unspoken reason, I wish to hear it," Jakor said almost too forcefully.

  The Council members looked at each other guiltily and then the Cleric responded. "I have had a vision of the future, the distant future, Jakor. Our actions in the governing body will have hideous consequences on the simian species of this planet. The things we entombed will not die. I saw them sleeping a great sleep for thousands of years then being freed by some mishap, raining terror upon those of this world, unchecked, reproducing themselves, and eventually harvesting the simians like we would harvest the native fish in the nearby body of water." The cleric shuddered. "We have erred greatly, and only in this way can we try to atone for the harm we have sentenced upon those yet to come."

  "I knew it!" Jakor replied. "I knew entombing those Seelaks was a mistake."

  "Yes, it was," the Elder agreed. "We were angry, blinded by a need for vengeance upon the Seelak. Our thirst for vengeance blinded us to what we were doing. Only after, when our minds were quiet, did we understand the ramifications of what we had done."

  "We can still free the Seelak, my men and I can have them free within the week if we work continuously. I will personally bury my staff into the creatures that took Sennek's life. I will do this gladly," the soldier offered eagerly.

  "You will fail," Kaylor answered sadly. "You would only succeed in creating a landslide, killing yourself and the others who would tunnel with you. The explosion has unsettled the area around the ship. Any further disturbance would be catastrophic."

  Only by having your genetic material in one of them will allow them any hope of survival. When the time is right, the virus will release the entire power of its coding into the simian host. It will become a hybrid species, utilizing the strengths from you and whatever strengths lie inherent within the host. It will be his job to right the wrong that we have committed. The role of the one carrying the Elder's genes will be to remember us, some of our history, to seek your hybrid out at the right time, and give him the instrument of transformation which will enable him to utilize your strengths."

  "What is that instrument?"

  "Your personal weapon, the Sentient Staff that acknowledges you as its only master. Your memories and your personality will be encoded into the virus. In this way, the staff will accept its new master," The cleric replied.

  "How will this weapon be found?"

  "Its exact location will be programmed into the Cleric virus. It will be found, I assure you," the cleric answered.

  "Will you partake in this, Jakor, mightiest of the Warrior sect?" the Elder asked.

  "I will." Jakor handed over the weapon that had been carried for generations by his ancestors.

  "Come then, let us proceed." The Elder gestured.

  * * *

  It took the scientist several cycles to create the precise coding for each particular micro virus, and then another several cycles to implant the genetic material from each Esper member into each microorganism. When the work was completed, the cleric released their creations into the air, watching with some measure of satisfaction as the wind carried off the fruits of their labor.

  "That is all that will be left of us," the Elder remarked sadly. "Let us hope that we have done our work well. The very life on this planet will depend upon it."

  * * *

  There was a swirling of purple and blue. Shanda was once again back in the hospital room. What had seemed to pass like days were only scant minutes. The bond with Alissa had been the most intense thing she had ever experienced. Both wom
en removed their hands and quietly retreated into themselves momentarily.

  Shanda looked up at the young waitress who was also collecting herself. "That's absolutely fantastic."

  "Those viruses found homes in our ancestors, passing down the gifts from generation to generation, waiting for the proper time to be revealed. My gift was the gift and burden of this knowledge, and to bestow the Sentient Staff to its proper heir. My family has carried this object for generations." Alissa pointed toward the duffel bag by the corner chair.

  "And that heir would be Erik," Shanda answered. "Erik has the genetics of that huge Esper in his bloodstream?" she said in disbelief.

  Alissa nodded. "As I have the cleric's genetics and you have the elder's genetics. He will need your gifts at a later time; but now, he needs the benefit of what resides deep inside him. He must take up the Staff and end the Seelak threat once and for all."

  "What finally happened to the Espers?" Shanda asked with a burning curiosity.

  "They chose to terminate their existence and end the threat they were to humankind," she answered sadly. "The images of their deaths are too painful for me to recall. I only know that they met their end bravely and with great honor. The Espers never meant to harm us. It was anger, justified anger, which led them to imprison the Seelak survivors. They realized the consequences of their actions too late, as you saw."

  "Now Erik has to clean up the mess," Shanda replied.

  "Erik is a formidable man," Alissa answered. "But as you see, he's no match for a genetically enhanced Seelak. Once he transforms, the odds will be even. Between his native skills and Jakor's skills, there's a good chance that he will prevail in the upcoming battle." Alissa walked over to Erik's hospital bed and studied him.

  The hideous tears in his flesh were no longer oozing blood, the bruises and contusions on his face were noticeably lighter, and his nose seemed to be undergoing cosmetic reconstruction at a cellular level. Shanda noted his heartbeat was stronger and regular. His breathing seemed less labored.

  "Whatever you gave him seems to be working," Shanda remarked thankfully.

  "Yes, though I never thought it would have to do so much, he was damaged very badly during this conflict. I regret not foreseeing this final encounter. Perhaps I could have prevented it."

  "No," Shanda disagreed, "that's what makes him Erik. He always fights, no matter what the odds are. He was fighting for his daughter, and nothing would have prevented him from doing that."

  Alissa placed her hand next to his temple and closed her eyes. "He is getting stronger, but there is still much more healing to be done. The elixir will lose potency within the next three to four hours. It should be able to repair most of the life-threatening ailments he suffered within that time. The staff will do the rest. When he awakens, his thoughts will be of his daughter, he will be panicked and irrational," she looked at Shanda. "You must tell him what you have seen, let him touch your mind, show him what I have shown you. He will believe you without question. He would have doubts if this came from me. He must take the staff willingly. It cannot be forced upon him. If the staff senses any reluctance, it will reject him. You must convince him that what we say is the truth. He trusts you more than anyone. If you tell him what I've shared with you, there's no doubt he'll accept it."

  "I'll do what I can," Shanda promised as she stroked Erik's hair. "There's hope for you after all," she caressed his cheek.

  "Come on." Alissa gestured toward a small couch. "We should both rest. The real battle will begin soon enough."

  Chapter 14

  The Pendelton House

  Richard Pendelton sat with his wife and two police officers. They received an exhaustive briefing as to the efforts and actions being undertaken to rescue their daughter and the other abducted children.

  Margaret graciously opened up her home to the other parents, offering the spacious dwelling as a sort of command post for the town officials and the families affected by the latest abductions. This made it easier for the authorities to make only one briefing and update to all the families together, and allowed the parents to draw strength and comfort from each other.

  Richard had been remarkably calm when Margaret broke the news to him of Brianna's abduction. Part of him was glad Erik Knight would no longer be a thorn in his side, but he regretted the expiration of such a formidable foil. His best people could not keep a tail on him for more than five minutes, and deep down he had a healthy respect for the once powerful investigator. Knight was now in a coma and, from what he had been told, scant hours away from death.

  "At least you went out in a blaze of glory," he mumbled to himself. "You'll be remembered as something of a hero, or at least be made a martyr," he added ironically. Richard lightly touched his wife's hand. "I'll be right back."

  He stood and walked into his spacious study closing the door behind him and locked it. Everything was falling apart around him. He'd been the direct cause of multiple deaths, injuries, and now the abduction of four more children, including his stepdaughter. How many more, he wondered, were going to wind up paying for his company's mistakes, his personal errors in judgment. How much was it worth to keep things secret?

  He stared long and hard at the telephone, knowing if he were going to activate his final scheme, things had to be put into place now. His operatives were standing by, awaiting his word. At his command, the gunship would launch, fully armed, to the excavation sight, and blast it and, Heaven only knew how many, innocent soldiers to Kingdom Come.

  Richard went to the small bar across from his desk and poured himself a scotch. He drained the glass with one swallow and filled it again, emptying the amber liquid. The scotch burned as it traveled down his throat and sent a warm feeling throughout his stomach. He walked back over to his desk and sat in his over-sized leather seat.

  He picked up the Nextel phone laying there and dialed the secure two-way frequency. "All ready?" he whispered into the phone.

  "Roger! Go on your mark," the voice replied.

  Richard picked up the phone and carried it with him over to the open bottle. He drained a third of the bottle, this time not bothering with the glass. He closed his eyes as the liquor numbed his senses. He looked down at the Nextel and keyed the transmitter. "Go."

  "Roger, we are go for execution," the voice over the radio replied.

  Richard sat back down at his desk and tossed the Nextel on the desktop. He just condemned four innocent children, including his stepdaughter, to death. They were more loose ends that needed to be cut in order to assure the company's safety.

  Richard reached inside his coat pocket and took a blast of breath spray to cover the alcohol on his breath. He walked out to await the news and observe the upcoming events with his wife and the other parents. He headed back down the lavish foyer and sat next to his wife. Margaret took his hand and leaned against him for support.

  "It's okay, we'll get her back," he whispered. "We'll get them all back."

  The authorities were executing a full-scale assault on Hopedale Mountain. Over two hundred National Guard troops were, at this moment, converging on the desolate mountainside. Three air support helicopters would be flying cover for the troops. The troops would have heavy weapons and artillery to be used in blasting the creatures into oblivion. They now knew what they were up against. There would be no more surprise attacks and no more casualties. The authorities were determined to rid themselves of these things once and for all.

  What had disturbed the authorities the most was the fact that these creatures deliberately attacked and abducted children. The attack they used required planning, and planning represented sentience and intelligence. Also, the deliberate thrashing they gave Erik Knight indicated a type of vindictiveness found only in thinking, aware beings. Wild creatures would withdraw from an aggressive confrontation. From the reports the authorities had reviewed from the surviving teachers, one of the creatures fought with Knight, and finally maneuvered him into a situation where the man could be eliminated. These we
re not simply wild creatures acting on instinct, but sentient thinking, malevolent creatures. This made them far more dangerous and a greater threat to the populace.

  The authorities were still baffled as to why the things chose children. Though, deep down, they didn't want to know. They could only imagine what horrors the children were undergoing at this very moment.

  * * *

  Brianna awoke to darkness, finding brief solace in a small nap, she was only aware of the three other children around her. They had all been crying intermittently over the past several hours. She didn't know how long they were captive, her young body only knew sheer terror, as occasionally they spotted an ominous shape moving within the darkness, or heard the occasional growl of the large cat creature that carried them here. The children huddled together, trying to find some comfort in each other's company.

  "Brianna?" a voice whispered in the darkness.

  "Yes?" she answered.

  "Where are we?" the voice asked.

  "How should I know? We must be underground though, it's awfully cold," she answered as her body shivered.

  "Do you think your dad will find us?" another voice asked.

  "I don't know," she whispered. "I hope so."

  "I'm scared," a young girl whispered as she huddled closer to Brianna.

  "We're all scared," Brianna and another boy replied.

  "Shhh, something's coming!" the boy whispered in a voice thick with fear.

  * * *