The Revered (The Earth Epsilon Wars, Book 3)

by Terrance Mulloy

  “I don’t know,” Jensen replied. “Wainwright’s a bitch. She’d happily fuck us over again.”

  “Yeah, but who else is going to provide her with what she needs?”

  “Why are you taking me to these people if they’re your enemy?” asked Matt, concern now seeping into his eyes.

  There was thick silence from Ally.

  “Jesus, at least tell me that. I have a right to know—”

  “The only right you have is to sit there and keep your damn mouth shut!” Dan hissed.

  After another moment of silence, Ally decided to answer him. “They have a secure holding facility where they keep some of the Afflicted.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “I told you already. We’re going to try a test on you.”

  “No, I mean, for what purpose are they keeping the Afflicted on-site?”

  “They’ve been trying to develop a vaccine.”

  “Ally!” Dan snapped. “Come on, it doesn’t need to know any of this.”

  Matt couldn’t help but chuckle. “A vaccine? How’s that working out for them?” Ally did not respond to Matt’s snide remark, nor did anyone else, but he continued to press anyway. “Let me take a wild guess - you’re the poor schmuck’s who supply them with captured specimens.”

  “We did up until they decided to attack us.” Ally could now feel the heat emanating from Dan sitting next to her. If he dared to speak to her in that tone again, she would gladly remind him of his place. Luckily for him, he chose to remain silent.

  “There was a war?”

  “Of sorts. More like prolonged skirmishes. We still lost a lot of good people.”

  Matt turned to his window and stared outside before replying. His demeanor went from open ridicule to solemn introspection. War was nothing to joke about. “I know what that’s like. But why would you be doing business with your enemy? I mean, these people tried to kill you.”

  “They’re not the real enemy. We realize that now. We hope they do too.”

  “Ah, the whole enemy of my enemy is my friend thing.”

  “Something like that. One of the terms of our cease-fire agreement was to start supplying them again.”

  “And what do you get in return?”

  “Aside from peace? They pay double for a live Infiltrator. Enough supplies to last us an entire year.”

  “So, what happens when they find out I’m not an Infiltrator?”

  Ally gave a dismissive sniff and kept her eyes on the road ahead. “We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

  The convoy pulled up before two concrete pillars that sat on either side of a towering, featureless slab of metal. The structures looked jarring against the never-ending landfill. The tip of each pillar was studded with automated sentry cannons. There was a loud hydraulic whine as they swiveled around on servo mounts, tilting their ribbed muzzles down to face the vehicles below. Visible just beyond the metal gate was a cluster of squat concrete structures surrounded by chain-link fencing that was at least twenty-meters high and three rows deep, topped with rolls of razor wire.

  With her hands raised, Ally slowly climbed out of the lead Humvee and stepped closer to the towering gate. The narrow slit of a tiny security camera could just be seen in the top left-hand corner. The scuffed lens altered its focus as she came into view.

  She stood there as the lens slid back and forth with a strange whooshing noise. She was being scanned for any sign of infection. When the whooshing stopped, there was a dull mechanical thud as the gate began to slide open. Ally turned and made her way back to the convoy.

  As she climbed into the Humvee and shut the door, Dan flicked on the ultra-violet lights. When she peeled her mask off, Matt could see the relief on her face.

  The convoy raced through the gate and into the complex.

  Masked guards patrolling the inner perimeter watched warily as Matt was led by Ally and her men across the apron toward the ops center. Matt studied their weapons as he waddled awkwardly past them.

  Their weapons reminded him of the old MK-211 plasma rifles the USC’s SEC-OPS division once used on Epsilon. However, the circumflexed stock design and hyper-dense muzzle polymers of this weapon made it look a lot more refined and lighter than what he was accustomed to.

  When Matt caught one of the guards giving him the hairy eye through his protective visor, he turned away to face the lobby of the building he was approaching. That’s when he was forced to squint a little. The tall and slender woman walking down the ramp to greet them wore a lab coat that was so pristine, it glowed like a white refrigerator.

  Celeste Wainwright was a lot younger than she appeared. Somewhere in her early thirties, the stratospheric IQ that bristled behind her brown eyes was impossible to conceal. From the outset, she seemed conspicuously lovely for a human living in this decrepit hellscape. But if one were to dig a little deeper, just below the warm veneer she portrayed, they would find a ruthless ideologue. Wainwright was committed to the crusade of righting the irreversible wrongs of this world. In fact, the Renewal made no qualms about holding that mandate. Ultimately, they wanted to reshape this new world into their own image. From what most people outside this compound had seen, that image was highly questionable and something worth avoiding.

  “Thanks for seeing us on such short notice,” Ally said as they all met at the foot of the walkway.

  “Of course.” Wainwright’s neutral smile calmly pivoted to Matt. “Another one so soon?”

  Ally gave a glib shrug, hoping it was convincing enough to mask her doubt. “Not so sure about this one yet, but we’re going to find out… if that’s OK with you?”

  Wainwright gave a puckish laugh while tucking her hands behind her back. It had been a while since she’d heard a good joke.

  “I just need a favor. I need to try something on this one before we hand it over to you. Humor me, it won’t take long.”

  Wainwright’s expression hardened upon realizing Ally wasn’t joking. “I’m sorry, but our containment protocols have strict procedures when dealing with Infiltrators—”

  “I’m aware of them. But I can assure you, this is not breaching any of your protocols. If anything, it’s breaching ours.”

  “Regardless, this is not how your agreement with us works.” Wainwright’s tone had gone from helpful customer service officer to a mother condescendingly scolding a teenage daughter for misbehaving. “I have to admit, I’m a little disappointed, Ally. I thought you already knew the basic principles of our agreement. Evidentially not.”

  “Listen, I have reason to believe…” Ally trailed off as if remembering to lower her voice before continuing. “I have reason to believe this one… it… he may not be Wraith.”

  Wainwright calmly studied Ally’s defiant glare. While increasingly suspicious at what Ally was implying, she could also not deny the fact that her interest was now piqued. She could feel the relentless curiosity that had driven her all these years stirring deep inside her belly. She was a scientist after all. “State your request.”

  “You have a Ventral Scanner in there, right?”

  “Correct.”

  “I want you to conduct an Intrinsic Epithelium Analysis.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so.”

  “Optical and tissue. That’s all I’m asking. If it blinks red, it’s all yours. If it blinks green, we throw it in a cage and see if any Afflicted goes near it. That’s the only way to be certain.”

  Wainwright’s eyes drifted over to Matt again. This time her gaze was intrusive. Matt felt as if she was searching for something – like trying to determine if there was any indication of a soul inside him. “It’s identical to the last one you brought us. What makes you think this one is human?”

  “I have my reasons.”

  “Where did you find it?”

  “Near the entrance to Farragut North Station.”

  A frown creased Wainwright’s brow while she continued to study Matt. “Another colony?”

  “No. There’s n
o way another colony could stay undetected, let alone survive autonomously underground without surfacing for resources. We’d have seen evidence a long time ago. This one is different. It came from somewhere else.”

  Wainwright’s eyes now shifted to Ally, her mind churning with a thousand questions.

  “What do you say, Wainwright? Do we have a deal?”

  The tiny smirk etched into the corner of Wainwright’s mouth indicated she was amused by the idea of all this. “You are to surrender any weapons before entering this facility. Is that understood?”

  “Of course,” Ally replied with a taut nod.

  “This way.” Wainwright turned and sauntered up the walkway towards the ops center, two armed guards trailing closely behind her.

  But before Ally followed her, she wheeled to Trey. “Keep the engines running. Just in case,” she said, barely above a whisper.

  Eyes on the other armed guards that were now loosely surrounding them, Trey nodded discreetly and headed back to join the waiting convoy of Humvees and pick-up trucks.

  Six

  After decontamination, which consisted of each person standing underneath a giant blast of sterilized steam, Wainwright walked Ally, Matt, Jensen, and Dan into the bowels of the facility, heading through a large commissary.

  “Are you making any progress?” Ally asked, her eyes raking the heavily guarded room of provisions and supplies.

  Wainwright exhaled a tired sigh. “We thought so. A recent test subject seemed promising until its liver enzymes came back severely elevated. Everything rapidly deteriorated not long after that. This Scourge… the damn thing was engineered to be a minefield. It’s proving near impossible to alter.”

  “How so?” Ally queried.

  “On a molecular level, every time we try something new, we trigger a booby-trap. It’s like a dead man’s switch. A failsafe. Cells explode, and the sample autonomously immolates itself. The subject dies soon after. Fighting this - it’s like trying to scale a mountain without being able to see where you’re stepping. We’ve mapped its genes, but without any of Dr. Rossiter’s original data, we still have no clear angle of attack. We’re not even entirely sure how its cells replicate. At this point, all we can do is actively observe and document the next mutation.”

  “You think it will mutate again?”

  “We believe it already has.”

  Ally could feel her heart sinking. “Where?”

  “Northeast Africa and parts of Southern Asia have reported seeing something different. Mexico too. From the radio chatter we’ve intercepted, it’s a new type of Afflicted. Bigger, faster, and a whole lot meaner. One of the more established colonies in Serbia were calling them beli tragovi: White Screechers.”

  “Were?” Ally quizzed.

  “Up until about three weeks ago - just before we lost contact with them.”

  “Any reports of these things stateside?” asked Jensen.

  “None so far. But that doesn’t mean they’re not already out there.”

  “Do you know if the Scourge is airborne yet?” Dan asked.

  “We don’t think it is. Sweat, saliva, and blood for now. That said, we’re not taking any chances whenever we step outside.”

  “I hear you. What about infection rates?”

  “We have a finite amount of surveillance drones in the field, so there’s really no way of tracking them.” Wainwright threw Dan a measured look as they arrived outside a guarded entranceway. “The only thing we do know for sure: globally, the Afflicted outnumber humans.”

  They proceed through a vast plaza of clean lines and steel arches, and from there, traversed a long corridor that led directly into the heart of the ops center - the very heart of the Renewal.

  From this entrance, several other spoked walkways connected to a rotunda where the ground dropped away to reveal a large circular trench filled with workstations. The facility was a hive of activity. Technician staff looked up from their elaborate computer terminals and delicate scientific instruments to watch them, ambient whispers ebbing through the room as they passed by overhead.

  The workers here varied in age and sex, but all of them wore identical, clerical-looking uniforms with white lab coats, medical gloves, and protective masks. The semi-translucent visors wrapped around their heads teemed with holographic readouts. Some also wore scrubs and biohazard suits as they tinkered with cryogenic canisters.

  Everything in here, including the technology, looked clean and clinically elegant - a stark contrast to the austere conditions Ally and her militia were used to. But despite the steady thrum of extractor fans and climate-controlled airflow, the absence of any windows, along with the fluorescent lighting, still gave the space a confined and rather oppressive quality.

  Wainwright stopped them outside a small unfurnished room that was split in half by a glass partition. “This shouldn’t take long. You can wait here.” She then ushered Matt into the room.

  Matt caught sight of a saddle-shaped chair attached to a device that appeared to have been molded out of the wall. It was fitted with a chin ledge, like an optometrist’s slit lamp. While the design of this device looked rather benign, with its white plastic and rounded edges, it still made him nervous. Regardless, he had no choice but to oblige and shuffle into the room.

  Ally, Dan, and Jensen took position behind a large observation screen to watch the procedure. Ally sensed a familiar crackle in the air - the same cocktail of anticipation and dread she had experienced a hundred times before, on both supply runs, and dangerous missions to clear out Afflicted hives.

  What if this Infiltrator really was human?

  The implications of that also meant something far more profound and life-altering for her. Something she was most likely not equipped to deal with right now.

  “Sit,” Wainwright ordered.

  The lights in the room dimmed as Matt wiggled onto the chair.

  Wainwright sat in a matching chair on the opposite side of the device and started working an ancient-looking data console. It almost looked like a slot machine one would play in a casino. After she identified herself to the console’s interface by speaking her full name, circuitry began to hum, and a fan started to whir somewhere inside. “Rest your chin against the ledge.”

  “Is this going to hurt?” Matt dared to ask as he slid his face into the rest.

  “It will if you fight it.”

  Before Matt even had a chance of getting himself comfortable, a thick clamp snapped around his head, fastening him to the device. He tried to recoil, but a nano-thin needle had already been shot into his left eye with a pressurized hiss, piercing the optic nerve. Unable to move his head or blink properly, he growled through clenched teeth while Wainwright forged a path into his visual cortex. “Christ! What are you doing to me?!”

  Wainwright paused and gave Matt a surprised look. No Infiltrator had ever asked that question before. Whenever she examined one, she always assumed the subject already knew what was happening to it. With a lopsided grin, she turned her attention back to the screen and decided to indulge him. “Infiltrators have a notable defect with the Lateral Geniculate Nucleus.”

  “Meaning?” Matt blurted, trying to keep his focus on anything but the searing pain.

  “Meaning, you don’t have one.”

  “Elaborate. And please, talk to me as if I were a child or a small dog.”

  Wainwright could no longer hide her amusement. Despite the immense pain it was enduring, this one also had a sense of humor. Uncanny. Perhaps it was unaware of what it was, she thought. Regardless, she continued to indulge it. “The Wraith process light differently to the human brain. It’s the one difference Cromwell’s engineers can’t seem to skirt around.”

  Matt’s visual cortex suddenly blossomed across the screen like opening flower petals. His Lateral Geniculate Nucleus was clearly visible.

  By all accounts he was human.

  Wainwright saw the conflicting data but decided to probe deeper for good measure, angling the needle down alo
ng a Y-axis to image his spinal column. When she glanced at the section of her screen that analyzed the shard’s acoustic molecules, there was no output data. Bewildered, she looked over at Ally. “This shard isn’t producing a signal.”

  With her breath caught firmly in her throat, Ally confirmed the find with a nod, knowing what was eventually coming. “That’s the same result we got.”

  Intrigued even more now, Wainwright switched to another interface and began studying Matt’s raw genetic code.

  DNA chains swirled across her screen as nucleotides sorted themselves into respective subunits. Suddenly, a small light on the side of the device chimed green. The analysis was complete.

  Wainwright punched a button and the needle retracted out of Matt’s eye with a high-pitched click. The metal clamp around his head also retracted.

  Blinking furiously, Matt yanked his head out of the device and brought his hands up to rub his throbbing eye. “You have any fucking idea how sick and tired I am of being probed with needles?” he protested angrily. As he stepped away from the device, he saw the conflicted look on Wainwright’s face. “Am I human or not?” he asked, a sliver of doubt now forming in his own mind.

  Ignoring Matt, Wainwright rose from her chair and signaled to the guards to come and take him. There would be one final test before she could answer that question.

  A question Ally already suspected she knew the answer to.

  Still shackled, Matt was marched deeper into the facility, moving past med-labs filled with technicians wearing strange smocks and headsets. In one room, he caught sight of a technician working beside what looked to be a large cryogenic tube. Inside the tube was some kind of vague fetal mass encased in clear gel.

  Wainwright led them down another sterile corridor, eventually coming to a heavily sealed vault with two brutish guards standing rigid in front of it. These two guards wore mechanized body armor and held Jackhammer shotguns that were as big as artillery cannons. Each armored suit was a half-ton war machine. Their expressions were empty and cold as Wainwright brushed past them and pressed her thumb against the security console. “Dr. Celeste Wainwright,” she said.