“Is what possible, Edward?”
“That all this spooky new age, mumbo jumbo might, somehow, be true? That we were meant to be apart, so we could complete this journey together now? I swear I’m as rational as the next guy and I don’t talk like this to anyone, even Maria. Somehow, only to you.”
“I don’t know. Really. We never had that chance, but we do now. The kids are gone and grown, mine with kids of their own. We have money out the ass, so no issues there. I have a career but I’m willing to listen to you about what you have gotten yourself into and why. I have always loved you, but I don’t know if I’m still in love with you. I was once; I’d like to be again. You’ll have to help me there. Can you do that?”
“I can, of course I can. I can for you, but I’ll have to tell you things, share some things you might not believe. Might not want to believe. Things that are, well … crazy. Some things that may change your mind about me, things that are hard for me to say out loud, things that can destroy whole lives and families. I know I can say them to you, but will you really want to hear them? We’re not the same kids we were when we were young. I feel like I still love you so much, but I just don’t ever want to hurt you again.”
“You never hurt me Edward. Never. As to the future, when do we start?”
“How much vacation time do you have? A month?”
“Oodles more than that. I work at State. When Madame Secretary was here, all hands were on deck all the time for the gentlelady from New York. I haven’t had a vacation in four years. About time I see if I really am the bedrock of the nation.”
“OK, today is Wednesday, how about if we leave Friday? Doable?”
“Of course. Where we goin’?”
“London, Portland, Seattle and Vancouver Island. Then back to DC, then Ottawa, then somewhere else, maybe Rome if the person I want to see is available. After that, if it is what I think it is, we may be gone for a very long time. At least I will be anyway. You’ll need to come back here to State but I’ll move here with you. We can move to Connecticut and commute like Senators. If you still want me, that is.”
“Can you tell me what this is all about?”
“I can, and I will. But hold on to your panties, you aren’t going to believe a single word I say. But if you can suspend disbelief this’ll be a lot easier to wrap your head around.”
“Your file says you smoke a lot of weed. Is that true?”
“Maybe. Define ‘a lot’?”
Chapter 47
Derek Nobili sat pensively at his desk wondering about the email he had just received from his old friend Enzo Fortizi, now living in some place in the United States called New Jersey. The two went back a long way, tied through “family”, history and unique circumstances. It had been years since they had last spoken, and it was never good news that brought his old mate to his doorstep. Quite the opposite.
Derek, a confirmed bachelor and ex-professional boxer in the UK, had transitioned smoothly from professional athlete to agent to promoter. He had done well for himself and his Clan and lived comfortably in London occasionally traveling the four corners of “new Europe” to promote his match fights. His stable included up and coming boxers, now mostly from Eastern Europe. It also included a few of his own Clan kind, the Nobilus Maximus.
Derek liked Enzo just as much as he disliked his brother Paulo. To Derek, Paulo was soft and tentative, and, on occasion, unpredictably and irrationally vicious. Paulo lacked what, in Derek’s mind, were the essence of the Gens and Nobilus lines: primal forces of nature given to action and aggression. Derek would throw down with any living creature on the planet, as would Enzo. And they had, many times. Sometimes together, just for the pure blood sport of it. But Paulo would try to reason and talk his way out of conflict. Why? Derek had no clue. Neither did Enzo, really.
Derek had often commiserated with Enzo about the times in which they lived, and the ancient times they had always longed to be a part of. Oh, the magnificence of ancient Rome with its war, mass slaughter and the occasional genocide that allowed men like Derek to do to humans what they so hungered for – kill without fear of recrimination or punishment. In ancient Rome, the Gens and Nobilus lines were prized warriors when in human-like transformed states.
The two ancient lines often fought together in teams, undertaking the most aggressive and dangerous missions from which they either returned victorious or never at all. Occasionally, they would revert to their primitive states for the sport of the hunt. Human hunt. Never good news for isolated human communities or for the enemies of Rome.
***
The Nobilus line was ancient, though not as ancient as the Gens. Little beyond that was known of their origins. What was now known was that the Nobilus line was comprised of an admixture of the genetic lines of the Great Apes, genus homo, and the Gens in transformed state. DNA tests suggested that the Nobilus line was a result of certain exotic and rare genetic combinations which had combined with transformed Gens in such a way to create a new proto human, the self-titled line of Nobilus Maximus. Some additional unidentified DNA was also found to be present in their genome, though the exact source or identification was then, as now, still unknown.
However, unlike the Gens, they hadn’t grown in numbers over the ages and their world-wide population was numbered at far less than one million purebreds of this rare sub species. They could transform but not into anything resembling the Gens primitive state. Theirs was a far more brutish and primitive beast whose transformation took weeks to complete and during which they were vulnerable as they incubated. There being little to gain from their primitive state, they chose life in human form.
To achieve total transformation, the Nobilus had to lay dormant and hibernate like a bear in winter. The trigger for transformation was known only to the Nobilus and they shared it with no one. Derek himself had never allowed himself to transform to natural state and knew of no Nobili who had in his lifetime. They lived among the humans, as humans, and kept to themselves in their small and scattered communities. They were self-aware of themselves as species and had their own unique governing social principals. But their lives and social structure were significantly less complex than their first cousins, the Gens Collective.
The Nobilus Maximus neither dwindled nor grew appreciably. For some unknown reason, the making Nobilus babies was difficult; sterility was a common among both the males and females of the Clan. Modern science had aided their path to procreation, but it seemed not to be a great biological imperative. Fertile individuals often coupled, even if pair bonded, with other mates to continue the ancient line.
But the Gens and the Nobilus shared at least one core belief in common – a visceral fear and hatred of mankind.
***
The email that Derek received was ominous. It said that an emergency had arisen, and it was imperative that they speak immediately for their common good. Derek had occasionally been asked if one of his Clan could carry out a job for the Gens Collective, but no emergency or major threat had ever materialized. Derek couldn’t fathom what the case might be now, but he would take the call from Enzo and hear him out.
“Derek speaking,” he said, answering the phone on the first ring. “And whatever you’re selling, I’m not buying, mate!”
The voice on the other end of the line said, “Fuck you, you old reprobate. Of course, you’re going to buy what I’m selling. It’s a hunt. There’s still good hunting in the deep reaches. Russia, I hear.”
“I wish. If I wanted to hunt Russians, I’d track them here in London or maybe your Brighton Beach. Can’t be bothered with them any more though; still, they continue to irritate me greatly. How are you keeping, old man?”
“Keeping good. Still can’t take my brother in demola, so I must stay on my best behavior. Otherwise, life has been very good to me. At least until now.”
“The wife and kids?”
“Cranky and crankier. The boy is good and athletic; my daughters want to become lawyer
s one day. My wife, well you know Gens women. Passionate and mean tempered. Still we vacation to a Preserve every year and her hunting skills are still unmatched.”
“So, she can still take you too?”
“No need to be abusive. Or right. But yes, she’s as savage as the day we met. Never boring in the Fortizi family. God, I love her.”
“God?”
“Just an expression, Derek. We haven’t turned human on you. Not yet anyway.”
Derek was lying. His wife hated him and the kids wished only for their Dad to be back on the road.
“So, what’s the emergency this time? Some miserable human dating a Gens princess?”
“I wish. Unfortunately, it’s a bit more complicated than that and it impacts both our lines and in the same way. Exactly the same way. Did I mention it was serious?”
“You did. But with you Gens folk, serious is a lot different than for we Nobilus folk. So, what’s up?”
Enzo gave Derek the full explanation of his and Paulo’s recent history with the DataLab Project and the mystery Human. Derek wasn’t given to stress or anxiety, but he did understand the situation and easily connected all the dots.
He thought for a moment, then asked, “What do you think are your chances of finding the Human and recovering your property?”
“So far, not so good. We’ve been on this for almost a year which is about nine and one-half months longer than it normally takes. This Human is slippery and elusive. Seems like he’s either protected or an independent player. In any case, we’ve had our best Trackers on him and they’ve gotten nowhere. Baffling.”
“What can I do? If you can’t find him, I doubt I can. We don’t have your resources or your talent. My people have grown lazy and comfortable living among humanity. Some are even taking human mates. Disgusting, but they can more easily produce offspring. The offspring cannot transform, so they are truly novo humans, with mixed genetics. It may be our future, heaven help us. We’re not really plugged in like Gens folk anymore. We just try to blend in.”
“And if there’s a war coming?”
“What war?”
“You know it’s coming, Derek. You must realize from what I’ve told you that the humans will discover us and if they do, they will discover you too. And it will inevitably lead to war.”
“A war? Maybe. If it is, we cannot win. There are seven billion humans on this planet. There are about a million Nobilus, and, what, about three hundred million Gens, give or take a few paws? The numbers don’t add up anymore. And their technology and weapons are far superior. If discovery is what you are talking about, then I say we start talking to the humans now before any of this gets too far out of hand. At least then we each have a chance to survive as a species.”
There was silence on the line for moments that seemed like hours.
“What if there was another way? Could we count on the Nobilus then?”
“Are you talking to Derek your old friend or Derek the leader of the Nobilus Maximus?”
“Both. I need your counsel and the thinking of your Councils. Hope that’s clear.”
“Can I ask you to call me in twenty years? I should be dead by then, mercifully.”
“The problem, unfortunately, is now. The options few and the time short. We’ll need an answer before the end of the year.”
“You know that if we can help, we will. So, tell me your plan and what small role we Nobilus would have in the future of this planet.”
“We want to eradicate humanity. Herd a few for future needs. Take over the management of the planet. Return to the old days and the old ways.”
“And you think you can do this?”
“We do.”
“Then talk to me. Do tell.”
“It’s not without risk.”
“Nothing ever is.”
Chapter 48
Enzo walked into Paulo’s crowded office, filled with Gens he had never met. What he recognized right away were the tattoos on the left arm of everyone, identifying them as Trackers or Captains. Each Captain had achieved rank through years of service, skill and success as a Tracker somewhere in the world. Their tats reflected their service and accomplishments and their status in the hierarchy.
This collection of transformed Gens was a rainbow of colors reflecting the global reach of the Gens Collective.
The Trackers likewise had tattoos with designs and symbols denoting hunts and kills, years of service and relative rank. Each arm told a different story and the symbolism was far from uniform. But every Gens knew who they were and generally what that symbolism meant. Trackers were neither friendly nor polite and they did not care at all for social status or privilege. They kept to themselves, mostly untransformed on one of the many Gens Preserves. They came when summoned, did their work and then disappeared into the deep wilds or Preserve of their choosing. Among the Gens populace, they were gods. And goddesses. The Gens had no concept of female submission in natural state; females hunted with the same passion and were as skilled, clever and cruel as any Gens male.
Thus, it had always been.
Enzo turned to walk away and not interrupt when he heard Paulo shouting to him that this meeting was over, and he should stay. The gathering of twenty or so packed in the office then began gathering papers and heading for the door. Enzo slipped neatly into the office and toward the rear bookcase and waited for the crowd to disperse. He took no notice of them as they left; they, however, noted his face for future reference. Enzo and his methods annoyed the vast majority of the Trackers and Captains, who would have banished him permanently to the wild and everlasting ostracism. They felt Enzo was rash in his decisions and endangered Gens folk regularly with his intemperate and impulsive behavior.
Paulo was calm and careful, thoughtful and deliberate with formidable fighting skills; great attributes, they felt, for a leader of the Collective. That Enzo had fought and lost the demola more than once to his brother which should’ve meant Enzo’s permanent demise. But it had not. If Paulo ever fell, they would see to Enzo’s banishment or final disposition as their first act of their ancient authority reborn. Enzo was aware of their visceral hatred for him and, if Paulo ever fell, he would either have to go into hiding or try to claim his right to ascend in a competition for leadership, the right of demola. Since justice at the hands of the Tracker class was widely perceived as the equivalent of certain death, Enzo presently wished his brother long life and the best of health.
Paulo was happy to see his brother, whom he loved in the way humans liked to express filial affection. Love was not, per se, a Gens emotion – at least it wasn’t expressed as a human emotion. In the Gens world, affection was a complicated matter as were all family and Clan relationships. Their lives, whether or not transformed, were far less complex in general but far more nuanced in the non-verbal expression of filial bonds than in humans. As well, humans seemed to consistently confuse sex with love. Why humans thought this, the Gens had no idea.
Humans did not pair bond. Parents could be physically and emotionally destructive not only to each other but to their offspring too. Infidelity and promiscuity were tolerated. Children were often abandoned, abused and ignored. Females seemed to have no discernable “clan” status and often could often not protect themselves from their males. Human females could be beaten or killed by human males.
Within the Gens Collective, none of this was either tolerable or even possible.
“So, brother, how was your chat with our friend Derek of the Nobilus? Still wants me dead?”
“We chose long ago to leave you out of our conversations, Paulo. If you need an updated answer to that question, I’ll give you his number. You should call him.”
“I don’t actually need an answer. One day your friend and I will have a reckoning and only one of us will walk away. Alive, that is.”
“Then I shall enjoy that match, should I be invited.”
The silence between them was deafening and the mood had sudden
ly become instantly tense.
“Not to worry, brother,” Paulo said. “I know I’ll have you firmly in my corner when the time comes.”
“You will, as you always have, brother. Of that there should never be any doubt.”
But Paulo was never quite sure of his brother or his intentions. He didn’t have the heart to physically thrash Enzo for his frequent insubordination and occasional displays of disloyalty. Enzo was his only brother and he needed him. Better to have him close than to be running around unchecked, causing trouble for the Collective in human form. Paulo was aware that the Trackers and Captains had long plotted Enzo’s demise and destruction. Had Enzo been born to a different Clan, he would’ve perished a long, long time ago.
Being called “human” for displaying human attributes within the Gens Collective wasn’t a compliment; Paulo was acutely aware that some human traits had rubbed off on him. He was neither proud nor ashamed of his feelings for his brother. If Paulo had any defects as leader, the Gens who followed Paulo closely felt that Enzo was that only weakness. If Paulo had ever thought about it, he probably would have agreed.
“So, what did the old viper have to say? Ready for war?”
“Not quite. He said that, of course, he would talk to the leadership of his Collective. And they would most likely unite behind your leadership if it came to an all-out conflict. But he doesn’t want war. The Nobilus have become more human and they would rather blend in than fight. Mating with the prey, if you can imagine that. I think the Nobilus want to blend with humans and give up their identity, as did the Neandertals before them. He didn’t exactly say that this fight wasn’t theirs, but I did not note a fulsome enthusiasm for conflagration that the Nobilus once had for hunting humans. I think he feels that that train left that station a long time ago. He keeps repeating that seven billion is a lot of billions.”
“And, their numbers?”
“Maybe a million. Maybe less.”
“Less?”
Discovery Page 94
