From these slits, jointed insect legs pushed out. They twitched as if they’d just been born and were taking their first breath, then they snapped open to their full length.
A pair of insectoid limbs, black and shiny and glistening with blood and plasma, and covered with small bristles.
Alex was still shrieking, but the sound was swelled by the other women as, astride their victims, they began to shriek, too. They shrieked until the combined volume was unbearable in the confines of the factory, the sound resonating through the very fabric of its walls.
Then, as Alex threw her arms forward at the insensible human, the insect limbs also whipped over each of her shoulders. With their pincers they gripped the man’s temples on either side, holding him steady for what was about to come.
Alex was breathing in staccato bursts as she lowered her head closer to the man’s and stuck her thumbs into his mouth, stretching it wide open. A tube suddenly burst from her mouth. More than a foot and a half in length, it immediately found the man’s gaping mouth.
“It’s a wonderful thing to behold,” Rebecca One slurred, intoxicated by the spectacle before her. “We’re so lucky to see this.”
The fleshy tube was similar to the ovipositor found at the tip of the abdomen of many insects for egg laying, but far larger. And Alex’s pulsated as something was squeezed down it by the peristaltic movement of the muscles.
It was a pod the size of a box of matches. An egg case.
As the tube pushed farther into the man’s mouth and forced its way down his throat, a reflex action made him cough and he tried to move his head. But, with a final slurping sound, the egg case was deposited deep inside him, and he became still again.
Alex’s insect limbs unhooked themselves from the man’s temples. She raised her arms and stretched them elegantly, then slid from the man. She immediately moved to the next bed, where a woman lay.
“One down, five hundred and ninety-nine to go,” Rebecca Two said.
“AND FROM EACH OF THESE egg sacs or pods,” Eddie continued, “more than thirty Styx are spawned. They go through a larval stage, consuming the living flesh of the human host. And when they’ve depleted the host’s ravaged carcass, they burst out, and —”
“Burst out?” Will asked, looking more than a little queasy.
“Yes, they rupture it and crawl out in search of more food. In the following days, they need an ample supply of fresh meat in order to fully develop. Once they’ve absorbed sufficient protein, they form cocoons, for the pupation stage. And within a week or two, they hatch out, and a brand-new army is ready to swarm.”
Drake was frowning. “You say ‘Styx’ are produced. What do you mean, exactly?” he asked.
“Like me, like Limiters,” Eddie answered.
Drake’s frown deepened. “After only two weeks? How can a fully formed adult be produced in only a matter of weeks? How can that be?”
“They possess the intelligence of a fully developed Styx male, but they have no emotional faculties. They have no need of them. They’ve been brought into this world with a single purpose — to kill. And they’re incredibly good at it, because they have no qualms about dying. We call them the Warrior Class. They’ll work their way through the Topsoil population, using whatever weapons are available and slaughtering as they go, until they’re ordered to stop. Or until there’s no one left to kill.”
There was a shocked silence in the Humvee until Will spoke. “It’s like the ichneumon wasp,” he whispered in horror. If it was possible with his unpigmented skin, his face seemed to have turned even whiter than usual. “I saw this TV program about them once. They lay eggs in a living animal, which hatch out and b —”
“It’s more than that,” Drake interrupted, turning to Will. “You remember that last time we were in Highfield with your father? When he wanted to catch a glimpse of Celia from the rooftop?”
“Sure, I remember,” Will said. “In Martineau Square.”
“Well, I rather glibly made a comparison between the Styx and viruses then. I had absolutely no idea how close I was.” Drake turned to Eddie. “At a guess, when the spawn grows in the host, it assimilates not just its proteins but also some of the host DNA into its genome, doesn’t it? And isn’t that the reason why current Styx physiology mirrors our own?”
Eddie nodded. “Our scholars believe that there was a Phase in prehistoric times, which brought about the extinction of the dinosaurs. And we most certainly weren’t humanoid in those days. The scholars tell us that the human resemblance came later, after a second Phase during Neanderthal times.”
Will uttered a barely audible “Wow.”
“Wait . . . this is all getting a little too fantastic,” Drake said, holding up his hands. “Where’s the proof for all this, Eddie? How do I know what you’ve just told us is true?” he challenged, although not aggressively, as he tried to deal with what he’d just heard. “We’ve only got your word f —”
Eddie made a move to reach inside his jacket. In a heartbeat, Drake had drawn his gun and was aiming it straight at the Styx.
“You know I’m not armed,” Eddie said, holding completely still. “I want to show you something.”
“Go on,” Drake said, his gun still on the Styx.
From an inside pocket Eddie slowly eased out a book, its cover creased and worn.
“The Book of Catastrophes?” Will asked, as he regarded the battered volume in Eddie’s hands, which was bound in some type of ivory-colored parchment.
“No, this is from long before that,” Eddie replied. “Only a handful of copies of this book survived from the fifteenth century. No Colonist has ever laid eyes on it, and it’s unlikely there’ll be another above grass. I had this particular copy smuggled out of the Citadel for me.”
Putting his handgun away, Drake shrugged. “So what is it?”
“Well . . .” Eddie thought for a second. “The Styx title for it means ‘from one comes many,’ There isn’t an exact match in the English language, but I suppose the best word for it would be ‘Propagation,’ or better, perhaps, ‘Proliferation.’ ” With a finger, he traced the three sides of the inverted triangle tooled into its front cover. “Yes, the Book of Proliferation,” he decided, then held it up to Will and Drake. “And this isn’t leather. It’s bound in skin. Human skin.”
“Okaaay,” Drake exhaled. “I suppose that about sets the tone.”
Eddie opened the book and was carefully turning the pages, which rustled like old leaves. “Ah, here it is,” he said, rotating the book so Will and Drake could see the illustration, a crude woodblock print.
It depicted a man lying on the ground, his body bloated and misshapen, as a woman’s thin face hung over him. The rest of her body was partially concealed by the shadows and difficult to make out.
Will was squinting at the picture. “It sort of looks like she’s got wings on her back . . . but those must be the insect limbs you talked about,” he said.
“Correct.” Eddie swiveled the book around again and glanced at the page of meticulously written text. “This is a record of our last Phase. It documents what took place in the mid-fifteenth century in Romania,” he told Will and Drake. “It was during the reign of the Prince of Wallachia, who achieved notoriety for his wholesale slaughter of p —”
Will couldn’t stop himself from jumping in. “Vlad . . . Dad told me about him. You’re talking about Vlad the Impaler, aren’t you?”
“I am,” Eddie confirmed. “And the folklore surrounding him has given rise to the improbable vampire stories and films that seem to be so in vogue at the moment. But the reality is somewhat different. . . . The reality is that our Phase started the myth. You see, the prince offered us protection on the understanding that in return we’d wipe out the boyars, his archenemies, for him. His part of the bargain was to provide somewhere secure for the Phase to take
place . . . and an ample supply of human bodies.”
“I bet he gave you that, all right. My dad said he killed thousands, after roasting and skinning them and hacking off their arms and legs,” Will remembered. “And he liked to stick their heads on stakes.”
“That was just window dressing to divert attention from what we were up to,” Eddie said. “The prince was actually a very cultured and gentle man.”
Drake was frowning. “Let me get this straight. If there was a Phase back in the fifteenth century . . . then . . . what happened? We’re not all dead or in servitude, so what went wrong?”
“The prince reneged on us,” Eddie said. “He was persuaded by his bishops that we were ungodly, and that we had to be stopped. So he ordered his knights to storm the catacombs in the palace where the Phase was under way. Our newly spawned Warrior Class was still either in the larval or pupation stage, so the knights met no opposition, cutting them to shreds and burning their remains. In fact the only resistance was from our womenfolk, but the knights eventually corralled them down one end of the catacombs, where they put them to death.” Eddie almost smiled as he added, “So rather than portraying him as a cruel despot, history should instead recognize Vlad — the so-called Impaler — as one of its greatest saviors. The irony is that he saved all humanity.”
Drake steepled his fingers as he absorbed this. “So what you’re saying is that conventional forces — armed only with rudimentary weapons — stopped the Phase? So with modern equipment, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
“If — and only if — you can find where the new Phase is taking place, and destroy the Warrior Class before they spread,” Eddie answered. “Before or during pupation.”
“Why?” Drake cut in.
“Because the Warrior Class can reproduce, too. When they get out, their numbers become —”
“Exponential,” Drake interjected. “So they’re male and yet they can reproduce.” He was suddenly struck by a question. “But why is this new Phase taking place right now?”
“As I told you, a number of factors have to be present before a Phase is triggered, and even our scholars don’t know exactly what they are. Perhaps one of the factors is simply our biological clock. The time was” — Eddie stopped, correcting himself — “is right. And I know it is because I can feel it, and so can all those Limiters who’ve come over to me.”
WITH CAPTAIN FRANZ standing like a shop dummy behind them, the Rebecca twins had been watching on a security monitor as Alex and the other Styx women worked their way through the humans, impregnating them with egg sacs.
Rebecca Two spotted activity at the factory gates on another monitor. “The food drop’s arrived,” she observed.
“It’s about time. I bet the sisters are famished. Let’s see if I can override this thing,” Rebecca One said, pressing the function keys on the keyboard until she found the view she was looking for. “Here we are.” The tractor-trailer was backing up in the loading bay. As soon as it stopped, the trailer was opened and a squad of New Germanians began to hurriedly empty its contents onto a series of barrows. “Meals on wheels,” the twin joked. “You are my sunshine,” she began to sing quietly to herself as she switched back to the camera inside the steamy factory space. Using the swivel stick on the desktop controls, she zoomed in on the connecting doors from the loading area. Less than a minute later, the doors swung open and in came two New Germanians with a laden barrow. Behind them, a Limiter stood guard in the entrance.
Smelling the food, a horde of Styx women had been lurking just inside the doors.
Rebecca One laughed maliciously. “This is going to be good.”
Vane rushed one of the New Germanians, clawing him to the ground with amazing speed. The rest of the women immediately swarmed on both him and the other soldier, tearing at their bodies. They were so Darklit, the two soldiers did nothing to fight back.
“I suppose we promised our sisters fresh meat,” Rebecca Two reflected as she watched the carnage. “You can’t get fresher than that.”
Even the Limiter didn’t escape the women’s attention.
“Wild!” Rebecca Two exhaled.
Like an attacking spider, Vane had moved with such phenomenal speed that the trace she left on the security monitor wasn’t much more than a blur.
In a single leap, she’d reached the Limiter, and before he knew what was happening, her insectoid legs had lashed his eyes. Staggering blindly, he tried to use his rifle to fend her off, but Alex was already on his back, her teeth in his neck.
“The female of the species is always the deadliest,” Rebecca One said under her breath.
“Ha! Those two!” Rebecca Two chortled as she watched. Vane and Alex were ripping the Styx soldier apart, limb from limb, while another panicked Limiter quickly sealed the doors to the factory floor behind them. “They’re so picky about what they eat.”
As the Bedford trundled along the path of the river, the water level receded so at least their feet weren’t being swamped. Then the truck’s tires spun as they climbed the bank and were back on some sort of track.
After a while Chester felt a pressure on his upper arm. Stephanie had drifted off, her head against him. Careful not to disturb her, he took out his flashlight, shielding it as he tried to make out the time on his watch. Before he turned the light off, its stray beam flicked over Elliott, who was sitting directly opposite him. She was wide awake and staring at him and Stephanie. It might have been due to the angle of the flashlight beam, but her expression was grim and unamused.
Despite the fact that he was protected by the darkness, Chester felt himself color up, as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.
It was true that he wasn’t sure how to respond to Stephanie’s interest in him, particularly as he assumed that it was mainly due to the false picture Will had painted of his prowess as a skiing champion.
And Chester felt awkward about the pace at which everything was moving, as if he was being swept along by an actual river. What it came down to was that he didn’t know how Elliott really felt about him, or how he really felt about her. There had been times when they seemed to be close, but more recently, during their stay at Parry’s house, she’d distanced herself from him, and everybody else.
Chester was just confused.
And he was very relieved when the Bedford eventually came to a grinding halt, which roused Stephanie.
“Where are we?” She yawned, sitting up.
“Don’t know,” Chester grunted, aware that he was probably still under scrutiny from Elliott.
With a crash, Parry opened the tailgate. “Everyone out,” he said.
Following behind Colonel Bismarck, Chester jumped from the truck, and found that they were under a shelter made of rusty corrugated sheets. He wandered a few paces into the open, squinting at the sky, where the dawn light was beginning to streak its way between the clouds. “What a surprise — it’s raining,” he complained, blinking as the drizzle fell in his eyes.
“That’s a Morris Minor!” Mr. Rawls announced, and Chester turned to look at the old car hidden behind the truck. It resembled an overripe and very large grape, not just because of its globular shape but because of the dull patina on its paint.
“It’s Danforth’s,” Parry informed them. “At least he arrived without mishap.”
Once everyone had gathered up their equipment, they followed Parry along a path surrounded on both sides by thick undergrowth. Chester noticed that Elliott had come to a stop and that she was grimacing and rubbing her shoulder under the strap of the Bergen. Concerned for her, he retraced his steps back to where she was. “Are you all right?” he asked, and placed a hand on her arm.
She jumped, drawing away from him, then met his eyes. “Stephanie’s very pretty. You never mentioned that you’d met someone on the estate,” she said.
“I .
. . er . . . I didn’t think it mattered,” Chester gabbled. “And I really don’t know her at all.”
“I do,” Elliott replied. “She’s everything I wanted to be. And everything I hate about myself.”
Chester had no idea how to respond to this, but Parry had noticed they weren’t keeping up. “Hurry it along, you two,” he called, then continued to strike out along the path. Within a few minutes Chester caught sight of some open land before them.
“Move quickly along here,” Parry urged.
They’d emerged in a gulley at the foot of a mountain, much of which was covered with grass and sheep-cropped vegetation. However, toward its upper reaches, the soil had been scoured away by the elements, and large slabs of striated rock stood proud like the remains of ancient fortifications. Chester saw that the gulley was taking them toward a line of electricity pylons.
Parry called everyone around him on the side of the gulley. “Once we’re over the top, we’ll be in an exposed position. It’s very unlikely there’ll be anyone in the valley below, but just in case, Wilkie’s going to send you across one at a time. Understood?”
Everyone nodded, then Parry climbed out of sight. When it was Chester’s turn, Wilkie gave him a pat on the back and the boy clambered up the side. With the wind and rain in his face, he began to jog the forty feet across to where Parry was crouched down beside one of a pair of structures at the base of the nearest pylon. As Chester came nearer, he could see that these were two squat, gray-painted transformers approximately twenty feet square and covered in cooling fins. On top of them were what appeared to be elongated goalposts, from which cables extended to the pylon above.
The transformers were both encircled by a chain-link fence with razor wire strung along the top. Parry ushered Chester through a gate in the fence so he could join his father and a very fed-up Stephanie.
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