Vapor

by David Meyer

  “So, the model is built on data? Isn’t that just data mining?”

  “Yes, but I think Simona considers the lack of theory to be an advantage. I can’t say I blame her. The climate isn’t full of simple, cause-and-effect relationships. Rather, variables interact with each other in dynamic ways. They’re probably impossible to understand from a theory-based approach. But a data-based approach? Well, that opens up lots of new opportunities.”

  I frowned.

  “Simona’s model filters out the noise from thousands of data streams and establishes relationships between them. And since those connections are dynamic, it continuously updates and refines itself with new data streams, taking great care not to over fit the data. The end result is a dynamic optimal complex model. It may not be able to explain the climate in ways we would understand, but it can still mimic and predict it.”

  “But data mining has drawbacks. Connections might be coincidental, rather than causal.”

  “Maybe you’re right.” She shrugged. “I’m not an expert. Everything I know comes from documents I stole off of Eco-Trek’s servers.”

  I recalled what Beverly had told me about the nanomaterials. “Why are there so many different nanomaterials inside the CN-46 discs?”

  “Actually, there’s just one. Each core consists entirely of engineered aluminum.”

  “Are you sure about that?”

  “Not totally.” She cocked her head. “Why?”

  “Beverly collected materials left by one of Simona’s planes,” I replied. “A lab analyzed them for us and found tiny disc-like structures. Each disc was bounded by metallic layers and contained a core of various nanomaterials.”

  “That’s interesting. I didn’t see anything about other nanomaterials in the documentation.” Her face twisted in thought. “Simona uses a complicated system to track the CN-46 deposits. Maybe the nanomaterials have something to do with that.”

  “Maybe.” I rubbed my jaw. “Can you think of any reason why Simona’s scientists would engineer CN-46 to degrade over a period of time?”

  “From what I understand, the discs disintegrate due to UV radiation and interactions with oxygen radicals. I believe it’s a safety feature, designed to keep the particles from becoming a permanent fixture in the atmosphere.”

  Another question popped into my brain. “How does Eco-Trek sustain itself?”

  Carrie cocked her head.

  “Drones, fuel, computing, personnel … it can’t be cheap.”

  “I never got a chance to track down funding sources.”

  “Okay, here’s another question. Why is Simona doing this?”

  She shrugged. “For the greater good?”

  “Her planes killed dozens of people in Israel. Her goons kidnapped homeless people. They attacked Benigno’s boat. They chased you. They shot our helicopter out of the sky.”

  “I suppose she’s trying to keep this a secret. If people learned she was manipulating the climate, they’d shut her down.”

  “I guess that makes sense. But how do the kidnappings fit in to her plans?”

  “I don’t know yet.” Carrie waited a few seconds. “I don’t know if I should admire Simona or hate her. On one hand, she’s fighting climate change. On the other hand, she’s clearly hurting people.”

  I knew how she felt. Simona’s geoengineering project gave her an incredible amount of power over the climate as well as over all of humanity. What gave her the right to wield that kind of power? And was she wielding it in a moral fashion? Was reducing climate change worth the nasty side effects? Was the greater good really all that good? Or was it something else?

  Something evil.

  Chapter 47

  The woman rubbed her eyes and took a few deep breaths. Then she took two uneven steps and pitched forward, landing hard on her knees. She stretched out her hand, reaching for her daughter.

  The little girl, about eight years old, slid to the nearest corner. Terrified, she watched her mother collapse on the concrete floor.

  One the other side of the large one-way glass window, Simona Wolcott sipped her coffee. Cocking her head, she watched the life drain out of the poor woman. Then she glanced at the file in her lap. The woman was named Rowena. She was homeless. Her life, like so many others, had been nothing but a burden on the planet.

  Simona shifted her gaze to the other isolation chambers. Men, women, and children, carefully selected by age, ethnicity, and other factors, sat quietly on concrete floors. Some chambers were full of people. Others contained just a single person. A few of the subjects appeared quite sick. Others, like Rowena’s daughter, were in perfect health.

  Simona turned her attention to another glass enclosure just as a man crumpled to the ground. For a moment, he barely moved, caught between agonizing life and certain death. Tears welled up in his eyes as the chamber’s other occupants backed away.

  Dr. Mychelle Besson, outfitted in a white lab coat, strolled past Simona. Carefully, she recorded observations on a long notepad.

  Simona glanced back at the first chamber. A door swung open on the opposite side. Four people, clad in white hazmat suits, entered the space. They herded the daughter to the opposite end of the chamber. Then they gathered up Rowena and removed her from the area.

  “Counting those two people, we’ve lost five of the forty-eight original subjects.” Mychelle cleared her throat. “The others will live, but with compromised immune systems.”

  “How compromised?” Simona asked.

  “If allowed back into society, I estimate an additional twenty people would die within six months, all from simple diseases.”

  Simona nodded, impressed. “That’s in-line with your original estimates.”

  Mychelle nodded.

  “Any concerns?”

  With a broad smile, she shook her head. “I don’t want to sound over-optimistic. But Miasma continues to act exactly as expected. I think we can safely move on to the next step.”

  Simona took a deep breath, allowing the truth to wash over her. To bathe her in its wonderful waters. “You expect production to take four hours, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Very good.” Simona stared at the chambers. Years of labor and effort had led her to this exact moment. Now, she was ready to make the final push. “Initiate production of Miasma.”

  Chapter 48

  The ground was bone dry. A light wind swept against it, kicking dirt into the air. Thunder cracked in the distance. Dark clouds covered the evening sky.

  Taking a deep breath, I clambered out of the fissure. Standing up, I took a few deep breaths. Dust grated against my lungs. The air felt unbearably warm. Sweat began to ooze out of my dirt-clogged pores.

  Graham crawled out of the fissure. Pulling up his pant leg, he took a few moments to brush particles out of his artificial joints. From all appearances, the day of rest had done him good.

  I scanned the area for paw prints. But time and wind had erased them from existence. Turning to the fissure, I saw cracks and deep puncture marks. The Grueler, whatever it was, was extremely powerful.

  After everyone had crawled outside, I cleared my throat. “We’re circling west to Pagan Bay. Keep quiet and stay low. Any questions?”

  Heads shook from side to side.

  “When we reach the bay, we need time to study the station, ideally from a safe distance.” I glanced at Benigno. “Think you can find us a place?”

  He nodded. “Sure can.”

  Akolo raised his hand. “What if we see the Grueler?”

  “Run.” My gaze hardened. “Run like hell.”

  I drew my pistol from its holster. Unsheathed my machete. Weapons in hand, I walked up the hill facing the fissure. Setting a southwestwardly course, I began crossing the arid terrain.

  After a short walk, I noticed Graham keeping pace with me. “How are you feeling?” I asked.

  He grinned. “How do I look?”

  “Like crap.”

  He chuckled.

  I
hesitated for a moment. “So, my dad used to travel with you?”

  Graham nodded. “Sure did.”

  “Why? I mean he wasn’t an adventurer. He was a real estate tycoon.”

  “True, but real estate wasn’t his entire life. He loved the outdoors. In fact, I’d say he preferred it to the boardroom, although he would’ve never admitted that to anyone.”

  I nodded.

  “You remind me of him,” Graham said. “In a lot of ways.”

  My mouth twitched. For whatever reason, a surge of guilt swept through me. “Is that right?”

  “He was smart and stubborn as hell, same as you. He even possessed the same skill set. But while you were born for this life, his true expertise was in the art of the deal. So, you’re similar to him.” He shrugged. “But still very different.”

  You’re not your father.

  It wasn’t exactly a stunning revelation. But even so, it struck my outer surface like a cannonball. My heart pounded as the truth sunk in, all the way to my soul.

  Steeling my emotions, I began to move more cautiously, taking care to avoid twigs and dry leaves. We passed through several gullies, retracing our steps. Finally, we climbed a small hill and paused at the top.

  Donning my goggles, I switched on the night-vision. Air left my lips as I saw scattered bones and gory remains. The creature hadn’t just killed Stevens.

  It had ripped him to pieces.

  As I scanned the carcass, I noticed plenty of fleshy material. Why hadn’t the Grueler eaten its victim? Was it some kind of trap? Was the Grueler waiting nearby, hoping to snag additional prey?

  I studied the surroundings, searching for paw prints, scat, and other signs of life. But I saw nothing.

  “How’s it look?” Beverly asked.

  “Clear,” I replied.

  Slowly, I descended the hill. As I passed between leafless tree trunks, I cast a wary eye on the area.

  Where the hell are you?

  A gust of wind swept through the gully. It struck Stevens’ rib cage, causing small pieces of it to break away. Dirt kicked upward, soared around for a few seconds, and then dropped to the earth, partially covering the bones in the process.

  I winced. Did he have family or friends? Were they starting to get worried? Had they gone looking for him?

  Graham shook his head. “I wonder how Pagan got this way.”

  “What way?” Beverly asked.

  “Like hell.” Graham swept his hand in an arc, encompassing everything in sight. “The Grueler. Dead trees. Dry soil.”

  “I don’t know about the Grueler, but the rest is probably due to CN-46,” she replied. “Simona’s drone sprayed a lot of land trying to kill us. And I’d be willing to bet she’s ordered similar attacks on other people in the past.”

  “I suppose that makes sense. But then why didn’t she use CN-46 on the Pagan Nation?”

  “Maybe she had something else in mind for them.”

  While they talked, I fell to the dirt. For a couple of minutes, I dug a substantial hole in the soil. Then I used my boot to push Stevens’ remains into the hole.

  Graham saw something in my face. “You okay?”

  I nodded. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

  “What doesn’t make sense?”

  “The body. It’s all here, limbs and everything. I don’t even see teeth marks. It’s like the Grueler just killed him for sport.”

  “Animals do that, you know. It’s called surplus killing.”

  I hiked to a large stone. Picking it up, I hefted it to the makeshift grave. Carefully, I placed it on top of Stevens’ remains. Then I stepped back and bowed my head.

  A twig snapped. Blood pumped through my veins. My gaze shot to the north. A large shadowy figure, cloaked in swirling dust, stood on the far end of the gully. A familiar hissing noise rang out, grating my ears.

  “It’s the Grueler,” I shouted. “Run!”

  Chapter 49

  Pushing Graham ahead of me, I scrambled up the hillside and into a tree grove. Looking back, I saw a whirlwind of dust blaze through the gully.

  The wind turned stronger, ripping through the trees and driving still more dust into the sky. I glanced back again. The Grueler was close, just twenty feet away. A small dust storm obscured most of it, but I could see its foremost head vibrating in rapid fashion. Its teeth looked shiny and razor sharp. They shifted up and down, side to side, over and over again.

  We weaved through the trees. The Grueler slowed a bit.

  The sky darkened as we ran to another hill. We hurried up its side, our boots slipping on the loose soil. At the top, I saw more dead trees, more dead bushes.

  “Over there,” Beverly shouted. “Head for higher ground.”

  A wall of boulders lay southeast of us. Beverly and Graham reached one first. Quickly, they climbed it, using crags and nooks for hand and footholds.

  Benigno, Akolo, and Carrie hurried to another boulder. Benigno grabbed Akolo by the shoulders and thrust him at the rock. Akolo grabbed hold of it and scampered up its surface. Then Benigno and Carrie climbed after him.

  I looked at their position on the boulder, at their slow climbing rate. The creature’s footsteps pounded behind me. I could feel heat emanating off its glimmering coat. I sensed its vibrating jaws drawing closer and closer.

  They’ll never make it.

  The creature, still cloaked in dust, hurtled over the hilltop. It ran straight at me. Twisting around, I veered away from the others. The creature’s claws clicked against dirt and rocks as it adjusted course.

  “What are you doing?” Graham shouted. “Get the hell—”

  The hissing grew louder, drowning him out. I ran to a separate boulder. A hot breeze pressed against my back. Claws slapped the ground, casting dirt onto my pants. More dirt swirled around my head, nearly blinding me.

  Sprinting faster, I reached the boulder. Then I veered west.

  A crash rang out as the creature slammed into the rock. Dust shot upward, cutting my visibility to inches.

  I grabbed a handhold. Frantically, I scaled the boulder.

  Hands appeared. They grabbed hold of me, pulling me upward. Moments later, I rolled onto the boulder.

  I twisted around. Squinting, I tried to see the creature. But there was too much dust.

  The air hissed. Distinct creaking noises rang out. The dust cloud shifted, expanded. Then sharp claws struck the rock.

  “Come on.” Beverly hauled me to my feet. “We need to keep going.”

  The hissing noise regained its normal pitch. As I followed the others, I tried to make sense of what I’d seen.

  The creature had struck the boulder at top speed. The collision should’ve maimed it, maybe even killed it. Yet, it had lived. Not only that, it had enough strength to climb the boulder.

  What the hell are you?

  Chapter 50

  The horrible hissing plagued my ears. The air tasted of dust. The creature’s scent, a foul, oily odor, filled my nostrils.

  I charged forward, weaving through tree trunks, making sure to keep the others in front of me.

  I burst into a small clearing. Looking ahead, I saw another small section of forest followed by what appeared to be a steep drop-off.

  My boots pounded against the dirt, kicking up small clouds of dust. My breaths grew uneven. My legs started to feel rubbery.

  I glanced over my shoulder. A cloud of dust shot into the clearing just thirty feet behind me. Claws slammed repeatedly against the ground. Dirt stabbed the air, retreated, and stabbed it again.

  I headed deeper into the barren forest. Tree trunks towered above me. The ground felt harder under my boots. I kept my eyes moving, but saw no signs of life. There were no animals, no birds. Hell, even insects seemed in short supply.

  A strong breeze kicked up from the south and I smelled salt. The breeze slashed at the soil, kicking more dirt particles into the air. The particles swarmed around us. They hid us from the Grueler.

  But they also hid the Grueler from
us.

  Beverly veered to the southwest. We followed her, drawing ever closer to Pagan Bay. Ahead, I spotted a rock-lined trail. It was a straight shot through the forest, with no obstacles to slow us down.

  Beverly ran onto the trail. Carrie and Benigno sprinted onto it as well.

  Peering back, I saw the roiling dust cloud shoot through a grove of thicket and dead bushes. Dry leaves crunched. Branches cracked and snapped.

  A yelp rang out.

  I twisted my head just in time to see Akolo trip on a large rock that marked the start of the trail. His right knee struck the rock with a resounding smack. Clutching it, he rolled onto his back.

  Graham hustled to Akolo’s side. He scooped up the kid and limped down the trail.

  Damn it.

  Between his artificial leg and Akolo, Graham was now running at half the creature’s speed. There was no way he could continue to stay ahead of it.

  I leapt onto the rock, sliding across it. It felt smooth and polished.

  My boots hit the ground. Ducking down, I aimed my pistol into the forest. Dust was everywhere, cloaking the area with its grainy particles.

  I took aim at a thick cloud of swirling dirt. But I was unable to draw a bead on the creature. Gritting my teeth, I aimed for the center of the frenzied movements.

  The cloud paused. Dirt continued to shoot in all directions. Up and down, back and forth. But it didn’t advance on our position.

  I furrowed my brow.

  The hissing died off. Twigs stopped snapping. Branches stopped breaking. An eerie silence filled the air.

  Then the dust cloud moved. Not forward this time, but backward. It retreated quickly, silently.

  And then it was gone.

  Beverly, clutching her gun, appeared at my side. “Where’d it go?”

  I stared, dumbfounded, into the whirling dust storm. “I don’t know.”

  Chapter 51

  “I’m telling you, it didn’t sound right.” Akolo wrenched himself away from his father. “It sounded funny.”

  Benigno peered at the large rock. “Funny how?”