by Mark Tufo
“How in the hell could he have possibly found us?”
“Maybe because you won’t shut the hell up.” BT had mimicked Tracy’s hiss, but from him it sounded much more sinister. I flipped him off, luckily for the good of us all, he had already turned away.
“Chance, can you hand me my rifle?”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” he said, even as he went and got it.
“Would you rather we were dead?”
“Good point.” He handed it to me.
I placed the rifle in my lap and scooted across the floor on my ass; my back facing the windows as I approached.
“How many?” I asked Tracy.
“Not as many as I would have expected. Two possibly three besides himself. He’s sitting in a car three houses down, and people are coming up periodically, I would imagine to let him know what they’ve found or not. There were shots right before you woke up.”
I felt like a dog with worms as I dragged my ass across the carpet. I could see why they did it; it didn’t feel half bad. I might have even enjoyed it if my leg wasn’t throbbing. I was winded by the time I got to the window, which was a bad sign considering it was all of ten feet away. I maneuvered so I could see out.
“That car there?”
“How many other cars do you see?”
“What’s he towing?” There was a small trailer attached to the car, a large blue tarp concealing something much bigger than seemed safe for the trailer design.
“Want me to go ask him?” Tracy eyed me.
“Maybe. And that’s not him.”
“Are you sure?” BT asked.
I’d sat back down after twisting to look out. I arose again with some effort and peered out again. “Yeah, definitely not him. Just looks like some other assholes up to no good.”
“How many assholes are there?” BT asked.
“Seems to be a never ending supply,” I told him.
“Shh, he’s getting out of the car.” Tracy held her hand up.
“Unless he’s a fucking bat, he isn’t going to hear us,” I told her, the pain in my leg making those words come out a little harsher than I’d intended. The death ray from Tracy let me know just how close I was to crossing that imaginary line she had drawn in the sand. The truth about that line was that, as a woman, she constantly shifted it, so I never really knew where I stood in relation to it. Sometimes I‘d find myself behind enemy lines without ever having moved. Weird how that crap happens.
The man cupped his hands and began to shout. We all turned to the taxidermist when we realized the man was calling out his name.
“You’re up,” I told him. “You recognize him?”
“No.”
“Chance, we know you’re nearby! There was unspoiled food on your counter!”
“What do they want with you?” I asked him.
“I really don’t know.”
Chance had saved my life and was now with us. We’d defend him to the end, it would, however, be nice to have a reason why someone was shooting at us, although these days folks didn’t need much of one.
“Maybe this will entice you!” The man was moving to the back and the tarp-covered item. It was big enough that it could have been a Gatling Gun. If that was the case, then we were going to be screwed if they started lighting that thing up. When he pulled the tarp back, I thought my heart was going to seize. What was underneath was way worse than I could have imagined.
Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN – PAUL
“I am surprised you saved him.” Beth had found her way back to her and Paul’s quarters.
“You know what, Beth? I’m more surprised that I hesitated to do so,” he sighed.
“Can we move past this?”
Paul turned to look at her. “You’ve had me on the verge of killing a man I’d made my life’s mission to honor the memory of when I thought he was dead. I know in my heart and my head that you still and most always will love him more than me…if you ever loved me that is.”
Beth scoffed, but did not deny his words.
“And to top it off, I’m not so sure that you know exactly what love is—it’s more that you can’t have him and that’s slowly driving you insane…the beautiful Beth not getting what she wants. It’s killing you, and unfortunately, that seems to mean taking everyone around you with it.”
“When did you become so melodramatic?” Beth laughed.
“Which part is wrong, Beth? You haven’t denied any of it.”
“Everything I have done is for you.”
It was Paul’s turn to scoff. “Everything you’ve done is to me and for you.”
“Mike was undermining you, he would have taken control soon enough.”
“How bad would that have been? The world is nearly shit and we’re playing Cowboys-and-Indians in space. I should have just let him have it if that’s what he wanted, which I no longer believe to be the case.”
“Then you’re a fool,” she spat.
“The only reason I’m a fool is that I’ve put up with you for so long. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some truly important things that need tending to. Please see your way out of my room before I come back.”
Paul did his best to force her out of his mind as he headed to the bridge. She’d lain on that bed so casually, her long hair flowing on the pillow as she rested her head in her hand, her legs crossed. She made her beauty seem so effortless, yet he knew she was wielding it like a weapon and was very adept at it. He still hadn’t figured out how Mike had pulled away so easily. He’d been with him back at college when Beth had Mike twisted in knots. Had Mike finally gotten a look into the corrupt and blackened core of Beth? And if so, how had he done it? If they ever saw each other again, he would be sure to ask.
“Attention on deck,” Comm Officer Bruener said as Paul walked onto the bridge.
“What’s our status?” Paul asked after he saluted and told his men to resume their duties.
“Sir, we are two hours from buckling back to Earth. All of our systems are online and functioning perfectly.”
“How are the firing drills going?”
“We’ve had the men going through differing scenarios, and we’re averaging ninety-seven seconds from coming out of the buckle, acquiring the target, firing, and reengaging the buckle drive.”
“That’s not a huge window.” The Progerians had been practicing as well though. They could not detect the incoming ship, but they were staying ever-vigilant for its return. The last time the Guardian had appeared, it had actually taken some return fire damage. “I know the men are tired, but I would like to see them get down to ninety seconds. We can’t afford to take too many more hits like we did the last time.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll be back before we buckle.”
“Attention on deck!” the man shouted as Paul left.
Paul was headed to the lab where Uut was being held. Doctor Baker had told him they’d made a big discovery in regards to their guest. Paul generally avoided going to see the monster just because of the fear it produced in him every time he gazed upon the creature. He wondered how the doctor did it.
“Ah, General, it’s good to see you. Didn’t know if you would show at all,” the doctor said with humor. Most of the crew hated being around the Stryver. Hardly anyone would come in to get him unless it was a medical emergency.
“You said it was important.” Paul’s gaze was fixed across the room. Uut had thick straps attached to each appendage and across its sternum. If it wasn’t also in a completely locked down quarantine room, Paul wouldn’t have thought that sufficient restraint. “Is that thing asleep?”
“That ‘thing’ is actually quite impressive, in many ways they are our superior. Smarter, faster, stronger—”
“Wait. Did you say smarter?”
“In a way, yes. Their collective thought patterns allow them to learn from other’s mistakes. They don’t need to relearn like us. How nice would that be if our teenagers knew that certa
in actions had real and serious consequences?”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” Paul said as he approached the safety glass separating the two rooms.
“That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.”
“You envy them, Doc?” Paul asked, turning.
“I must admit that, on some level, I do. They fundamentally know that they are not alone, that they are never alone, and are a part of something much bigger than themselves. I was crippled as a youth with feelings of depression and despair. If I had not discovered my calling for medicine, I may have made that ultimate mistake. Did you know that Stryvers do not even understand the concept of suicide?”
“That’s a misfortune,” Paul told him dryly. “I’m sure that’s not the big revelation that you had me come down here for.”
“Not at all, General. As you may or may not know, the more highly evolved an organism is, the more susceptible it is to a variety of diseases and pathogens.”
“Let’s pretend I knew that, keep going.”
“I have modified the small pox virus so that it will genetically bond with the Stryver’s DNA. Which, by the way, is nearly fifteen percent the same as ours, is that not fascinating?”
“Doctor, that’s sixteen percent too much similarity.”
“I said fifteen.”
“I know.”
The Doctor frowned as the joke missed its mark.
“I have another question, Doctor Baker. Why do we have the smallpox virus aboard this vessel?”
“I have a multitude of viruses on board for studying purposes.”
“Forget I asked.”
“How could I? I virtually have an eidetic memory.”
“Smallpox virus, Doc. I’ve got to get back to a war.”
“Right. I removed a tissue sample from Uut and exposed it to my new super virus and it destroyed the tissue within seconds. Faster than I’ve ever seen anything work.”
“What about people, Doc. You’re tinkering with a deadly virus. Are we potentially unveiling something new and devastating upon ourselves?”
“Not at all. This new virus is completely safe around humans. You could eat it and it would have no effect.”
“I think I’ll pass on that.”
“The virus is species specific, we do not share enough similarities that it could ever spread, and in the off chance it wanted to, I installed a marker into the virus that makes it shut down if it tries to mutate past its original design.”
“How effective is it?”
“Under the right circumstances, it should be one hundred percent fatal, but there will always be some that have a natural immunity. As viral as an agent as this is, I would imagine ninety-nine percent of those infected would die within hours of exposure.”
“Great, now all we need is some blankets as a delivery system. You’re alright with this, Doc?”
“How so?”
“Aren’t you medical types all about preserving lives?”
“We are, but in this case, I’m more concerned with preserving human lives.”
“Then you believe Mike about the Stryvers’ ultimate plan?”
“Oh, heavens, yes. I forgot to show you this.” The Doctor led Paul over to a table full of instruments and a lone speaker. “Major Adair has been working on this for over a week during his off time, very dedicated boy,” Doc said as he started flipping switches on. “He discovered the frequencies that the Stryvers speak on, something in their nervous system picks up the signal extremely well. The major said he had to boost the signal over one hundred times for it to become audible for us.”
“In English?”
“Yes, what else would it be?”
“Why wouldn’t it be beeps and squeals or something equally as disturbing and foreign?”
“I do not have all the answers, but with their ability to tap into our language and speech centers, they have learned our communication. Until they are told otherwise they will continue to use it.”
“He can’t come up with reasons to go back to his native tongue on his own?”
“It would appear not.”
“What were you saying about the collective being a good idea, Doc?”
He cleared his throat. “Well, it would appear that, like anything, it has its drawbacks. Perhaps I over-thought the benefits and not the costs.” He stood up after adjusting a few dials and pressed a button on the wall that activated the intercom to the quarantine room. “Uut, it is time to awaken.” He let the button go. “He cannot hear us when I have the button off, and we are shielded from him as well. This room is very much like a Faraday cage.”
Paul had not noticed before, but there were five separate speakers on the table behind him. At least three produced sounds as Uut stirred.
“I am hungry, doctor.”
“When you come in here I will rip your lungs from your chest.”
“I can hold one of them hostage as I try for my freedom.”
“Doctor Baker, what am I hearing?”
“He does not realize he is transmitting all of his thoughts to us. We believe each Stryver can have up to five simultaneous communication thoughts, although we have thus far only discovered three.”
“Five?”
“Yes, there are gaps in some of its thoughts that we can only attribute to missing communication.”
“Mike can hear this? How is he not going insane?” Uut kept talking, each word a polar opposite of the other.
“I will help in any way possible.” to “I cannot wait until your blood runs freely.”
“I do not believe Michael can hear every level, just enough.”
“Obviously. Shut it off, it’s giving me a headache. Is everything so duplicitous with him?”
“Regarding us? Yes. I would think it is not with his own kind, as it would be difficult to get anything done as a species if they were always at each other’s throats.”
“Why have all those levels of communication? What would be the purpose?”
“We’re working on a theory about that. It’s possible that differing frequencies equate to different stations in life. We think that maybe officers have their own level of communication all the way down to the lowly sanitation worker. I see your questioning stare—it is just a theory. General, we know so little about them, getting this one to study has been a big boon.”
Uut was beginning to thrash about within his confines.
“We are perfectly safe, he attempts escape every time he wakes up. If he gets too rambunctious we can release a nerve gas that subdues him.”
“I think I would rather kill it.”
“No, no, General, we still have much to learn about them, and this is our Trojan horse, should we need it.”
“He’s our delivery system?”
“Yes, the pathogen needs to be delivered by a living host.”
“You said that the virus kills immediately.”
“I am working on something that perhaps takes longer, but I have discovered it is much easier to make something more deadly than less so.”
“From point-of-infection to death, how long are we looking at?”
“It will be different in each of them.”
“Doctor.”
“Eight hours at the very most, perhaps as little as an hour or two if an immune system is compromised in any way.”
“Uut looks fairly healthy, how long would you give him?”
“The stress of being held captive is already beginning to wear on him, his skin has lost some of its shine and he has patches where some of his wiry fur has come out.”
“Doctor Baker, I need answers.”
“Forgive me, General, this is how I come about those answers. I have to rationalize them out. I do not have a storeroom full of them, and now I am just showing you how smart I am.”
“Sorry, Doc. I didn’t think that. I’ve got my own stress wearing on me. Although I don’t think I’ve lost any hair.”
The doctor did not seem to grasp the humor in Paul’s words again. �
�I would be surprised if Uut made it more than four hours once injected.”
“That is not much time to introduce him back with his kind.”
“Fifteen minutes to buckle. Everyone to their stations,” came over the PA system.
“I have to get back to the bridge. Congratulations on your work and let me know what else you discover.”
“Of course, General.”
Paul was happy to be out of the lab. Just being near the Stryver threw off his equilibrium; it was all he could do to not pull out his sidearm and end its suffering by putting a couple of rounds into the eye group. He was just beginning to feel more like himself as he approached the bridge.
“For fuck’s sake, Beth, what are you doing here? If it weren’t frowned upon, I would put you on a shuttle and send you somewhere far away from me. This ship is vast and yet, for some reason, you keep hovering close no matter how many times I tell you I do not wish to be around you. Is this the illness Mike spoke of?”
“We are married and it is my duty to be by the side of my husband.”
“I absolve you of your duty and our marriage. I want nothing to do with you.”
“And what of your child?” Beth had a small smile on her face.
“I’m surprised you haven’t keyed up some dramatic music to play like this is some sort of soap opera.”
“Ask your Doctor Baker. He has the results.”
“Right now you tell me this? Right as we are about to head back into battle? What is wrong with you?”
“Must be the hormones from the pregnancy,” she said before leaving.
“I have never truly hated a person as much as I hate her. What have I done, bringing an innocent into all of this?” he muttered. For a fleeting moment he thought it could possibly be Mike’s, and for that same period of time, he was actually happy that might be the case.
Paul was in mid-swear as he walked onto the bridge. “Attention on deck!”
He looked up with unease in his eyes, not for the battle before them, but rather for what was to come. There could be no decision other than to let her have the baby, and either she befell some tragedy, or she relocated off world somewhere.
“Sir, three minutes and counting.”
