Rubicon

by Gareth Worthington

  The doctor tapped the tablet again, dissolving the image of the Earth and replacing it with strange symbols streaming in straight lines across the air. “Then we need to figure out what the hell this is. It’s a code within a code, embedded in the hack and we have no idea what language this is.”

  Location: Tocayōtla, Southwest Rice Terraces, China

  Victoria lingered in the shadows, her gaze fixed on the caged prisoners—specifically the son of Kelly Graham. The boy, twenty odd years old, was a carbon copy of his father. The long hair, the half-baked smirk, even the gait of his walk. She hadn’t thought about Kelly until recently. Bile once again filled her throat, exacerbating the metallic taste in her mouth. She spat on the ground and wiped her lips. He was dead. Feeling guilty about it helped no one. It was his own fault. He’d chased her to Teotihuacan just as his son had chased Svetlana here. They had both chosen death, even if they didn’t know it. Everyone everywhere had chosen death and didn’t know it. At least not yet.

  Victoria swallowed the stone in her throat and stormed toward the prison. Its occupants shuffled inside, squirming at her coming. The two guards, wearing the ballistic gear, stared outward stalwart and unmoving, their Huahuqui at their side.

  “The famed First Child of the Stratum,” Victoria said, running her fingers across the bars.

  “First bitch of the Nine Veils,” Kelly’s son fired back.

  Victoria stopped and turned to him, her eyes burning with indignation. “You have a sharp tongue, just like your father.”

  “Yeah you keep saying cryptic shit like that. You ever actually make sense?”

  “Everything will make sense soon enough.”

  “You guys actually buy this?” KJ directed his question at the guards.

  They didn’t move.

  “You have no influence here,” Victoria balked. “They are loyal to me, their Mother.”

  A woman with curly orange hair and mismatched eyes, standing at the back of the prison, snorted. “You’re nobody’s mother, that’s for damn sure.”

  Victoria stared at her. “And you are? No Huahuqui. You had no weapons. Just a camera. A fangirl? The lengths sluts like you will go to get laid.”

  The woman leaped at the bars, forcing her pale arm through.

  Victoria stepped back, a shrill laugh echoing into the cold air. “So easy. Manipulating humans, that is. Since the dawn of time the fate of the world has rested on the shoulders of a few. And it takes but a whisper in their ears to change the future.”

  “And that’s what you’re doing?” the male with a slight Russian accent and the Huahuqui with black gills said. A quick glance into his mind told her his name was Nikolaj.

  “Absolutely. I am the only one who can.”

  “You’re a fucking nutbag,” Kelly Junior said. “Just here to gloat?”

  Victoria shrugged. “I was curious.”

  “About?”

  “What makes you so special, Kelly Graham Junior. But from what I can see, there is nothing. You are your father reincarnate. Hot headed, rash, impetuous. You know he had a family before you, right? A wife and a daughter. They died. Because he was off on an adventure. People were hurt, died, in the wake of his ignorance. He’s the reason I am what I am. And I’m the reason he’s dead. The Doyen is a fool to believe you would be well placed in our Phalanx. The chain is only as strong as its weakest link. And you, boy, are the weakest of all. Broken and deluded.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Kelly Junior fired back, his brow knitted in concentration.

  Victoria couldn’t help another shrill laugh escaping her lips. “You cannot see in my head. I am immune. But do not think I cannot see into your mind, child. You’re a lost little boy. Afraid of yourself, that for all your power you amount to nothing. Yearning to be as important as your idiotic father. Unable to save your dying mother. In love with... this one,” she pointed at the curly haired Irish woman, “but not having the testicular fortitude to do anything about it.”

  There was no retort this time. No quip or slur. The man-child just stared back at her, eyes glassy.

  “You are a fraud. A wannabe. Not man enough to be brave—if not stupid—like your father. Fit to lead no one. Not that it matters.”

  Kelly Graham’s son slumped to the floor, his eyes wide. The two females that seemed permanently glued together dashed to his side. The Irish woman’s gaze was fixed on the broken boy.

  “Not that what matters?” Nikolaj asked.

  “Well aren’t you the sharp one?” Victoria said, feeling a wry grin spread across her face. “Now you could have been useful. Such a pity.”

  Victoria turned and began to walk away toward her private temple. Behind, she could hear the prisoners calling out and demanding answers to unimportant questions. There was only one answer worth knowing and it wasn’t discovered by breaking the Ninth Veil or blindly following an ancient philosophy outdated in a modern, and very sick, world. No, only Victoria through her experience, through being broken down and reformed, could see it. And only she, neither human nor Huahuqui, had the selflessness to comprehend it.

  From across the courtyard, crouched down behind a low stone wall, Svetlana watched her Mother leave. Her gaze followed the woman until she was but a speck in the distance, and then turned back to the prisoners. An empathetic knot in her gut tightened. She’d been on the other end of one of Mother’s mind delves. Your worst fears and desires dragged from your psyche and displayed for all the world to see. Humiliating. Her calf muscles tingled with an unexpected urge to run to the bars and... and what? Comfort him? Why? Because they may have been friends when they wore diapers and shared a tent in a far-off land?

  No. This wasn’t right.

  Svetlana slowly rose to her feet, Ribka swishing his tail at her side. She was Phalanx. She was part of something. To leave them would mean leaving a family. And the Doyen’s prophesy, the will of the universe, would soon be upon them. Once Apophis had come, the deluge would follow and bring about the next step in the journey of humankind. Yet, even as Svetlana tried to convince herself, doubt gnawed at her. What had Victoria said? Not that it matters. Why wouldn’t having a leader of the Phalanx matter? The Doyen wanted this man to lead. He had told her as much. Perhaps she had misunderstood his words? Mother would not contradict the Doyen’s wisdom, would she? Only he had penetrated all nine veils. Svetlana’s head swam with possibilities and conflicting loyalties. She needed to rest, to meditate. She spun and sprinted off toward her communal dwelling, Ribka bounding behind.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Location: Alpha Base, Antarctica

  The subglacial temple was freezing and claustrophobic. With the only light coming from spotlights and battery powered-generators that had to be changed every few hours, Freya had the growing feeling this must be what it’s like to die: slowly, cold, the world closing in on you. The Huntington’s would get her eventually and she’d accepted that. Her own death didn’t bother her any more. Jonathan would be okay. He was a strong man. A good man. Unlike Kelly who could not escape the death of his wife Izel, Jonathan would not wallow in the pain of losing Freya. She was sure he would be able to find love again—if not for a while. As for her boys, KJ and Nikolaj, they were grown and able to fend for themselves. But, she knew she was the anchor for their hodgepodge family unit. Without her, KJ would probably drift away from Jonathan and Nikolaj—who themselves were so stalwart and career driven that only public holidays would be reason enough to bring them together. This is what saddened her. The family she’d created would disintegrate upon her death.

  Where the hell were the boys headed, anyway? she thought. She hoped KJ would not give Jonathan too much of a hard time when he finally caught up. It wasn’t like Jonathan could spank KJ and march him home. Though, for a grown man, being thrown in the back of a jet or helicopter and escorted back was pretty much the same. KJ may never forgive Jonathan—or her. Was that her fault? The boys should have said what they were doing and where they were going. Of cours
e, KJ was his father’s son. And Nikolaj, despite his more mature nature, was still the son of Minya Yermalova. And neither would shy away from an adventure.

  Freya’s heart hurt at the thought of her friend. The nightmares of Minya slipping from Freya’s grip and plummeting to her death in the icy ocean had subsided over the years. But the hole left behind seemed as deep and unforgiving as ever. Nikolaj had asked many times for stories about his mother, but when Freya searched for the answers it became clear that she knew very little detail, despite their closeness. Perhaps it was a friendship forged by their shared experience with the Huahuqui. Perhaps they were just two mothers with special sons. Either way, Freya had little to tell Nikolaj. In fact, what she did know—Minya’s time in the Siberian gulags, her rape resulting in Nikolaj’s conception—was just too painful to talk about. Nikolaj didn’t need to know these things about his mother or ancestry. Minya was a brilliant historian, expert in the ancient languages, and devoted mother. Nothing else mattered.

  Yes, a devoted mother. Nothing else matters, Freya thought.

  “Nothing yet,” Doctor Brown said.

  Freya’s attention was drawn to the screen. Dr Brown’s ice penetrating radar had been modified to see through the brickwork underneath the crucible tower, and thus hopefully enlighten everyone as to whether there was a free and accessible water source. The image slowly appeared, line by line, as the scan penetrated the rock. From what she could tell, the masonry ran quite a few meters deep, then the Antarctic bedrock. A lot of it. As the image gained resolution, hope of a water source began to fade.

  “Well shit,” Freya said, slapping the arm of her wheelchair.

  “Don’t jump to conclusions yet, Mrs. Teller,” Koa said, then turned to his colleague. “Allison, you seein’ this?”

  Allison ran her finger down the screen. “It looks like a hairline crack in the rock, but it’s too uniform.”

  “A capillary maybe?” Koa said.

  “Can we push deeper?” Allison asked.

  “We can try,” the doctor replied. “It may be a bit fuzzy, but if there is a large enough body of water, it won’t matter.”

  More of the image built up, blurred as Koa said it might be. The solid coloring indicating brickwork suddenly opened out into a chasm. A hole that grew and grew, deeper and wider, then closed in on itself, like a bubble in the rock.

  “Holy shit,” Koa said. “It’s a subterranean reservoir. It’s huge. That’s water. We have water!”

  Freya exhaled a sigh of relief.

  “That capillary should be bringing it to the surface. So, it must be blocked,” Allison said.

  “Blocked how?” Freya pressed. “Debris? Just frozen?”

  “I can’t really tell,” Koa replied. I imagine, given how narrow this capillary is, that it’s just frozen over.”

  “So, we what? Pour some hot water down the tube?” Freya asked.

  Koa and Allison turned to Freya. The amusement at her suggestion was irritating.

  “Well, how do we unblock it?” Freya asked.

  “Well you weren’t totally wrong. Yes, we need to melt it but pouring water down there is just going to freeze pretty damn quickly again. And if it’s a blockage of some kind, will just do nothing.”

  “What about a heated drilling fluid?” Allison asked, scratching her head and staring at the screen. “We could modify the composition of the fluid we use when drilling for ice cores. Make it a little less viscous. It would melt the ice, and probably help break up and suspend any debris in there.”

  Koa nodded. “That just might work.”

  Allison ran off in to the dark and supposedly up to the surface to collect this drilling fluid. Freya figured it would take some time to retrieve. She sat in her chair, hands trembling, lost in thought. One of her arms shot out. Freya reeled it back in and clamped it down by the wrist into her lap.

  “That isn’t the cold is it?” Koa asked, nodding at her hands.

  Freya looked up to the doctor. His question seemed earnest. “Huntington’s,” Freya replied plainly. “Had it a long time, but I think we’re near the end game.”

  Koa gave a slight bob of his head in respectful understanding.

  Dacey nuzzled up to Freya’s legs.

  “Dacey here, she’s been kind enough to keep my symptoms at bay,” Freya said, rubbing the Huahuqui’s nose. “But there is only so much she can do.”

  “I’m sorry,” Koa said.

  “Me too,” Freya replied.

  The uncomfortable silence was worse than the cold.

  “So,” came Melissa’s voice.

  Freya jumped in her chair. She’d forgotten the xenobiologist was even there. “You might wanna wear a bell or something.”

  Koa laughed.

  Melissa blushed. “Sorry, but I’ve been thinking.”

  “Uh huh?” Koa said.

  “This orb. It doesn’t have a consciousness of its own. It’s a connector, a conduit, to bond and communicate with the Huahuqui more fully. At least as I understand it.”

  Freya nodded. That is how she’d seen it work. When the Shan Chu, Victoria, and Wak all tried to use it at the same time, during the battle under Teotihuacan, it seemed to drive everyone mad. It was damn intense.

  “So,” Melissa continued, “to use this place as a broadcasting station, someone has to have something to say. The Huahuqui don’t tend to communicate on an individual basis per se. At least not with each other. They dumb it down for us, for humans, but with each other it’s a hive mind. The only person who has ever had a lead role is Kelly Junior, and he’s not here.”

  “What’s your point?” Koa asked.

  “If we can get the orb connected, and if this broadcasting station is still operational, how do we operate it? Drag the Huahuqui from Alpha Base to here? And hope they can correctly convey the message.”

  Freya checked her watch then turned back to the two scientists. “Actually, that’s exactly what they asked to do.”

  “They?” Koa asked, an eyebrow raised.

  “They,” Freya repeated.

  The courtyard of the subglacial temple rumbled and echoed with the sounds of booted feet and webbed paws. From within the dark, at least one hundred Huahuqui and their human companions appeared. The gloom was pushed back by an effervescent blue light that covered them all. In its tank, the orb began to glow and pulsate with greater intensity as if it sensed the presence of the Huahuqui. Dacey warbled loudly, bouncing in excited circles.

  “Woah,” Koa said. “I’ve never seen so many at once... it’s ...”

  “Magnificent,” Melissa finished.

  Freya just smiled. It was easy to forget that most humans hadn’t seen a Huahuqui in real life, let alone half the hive of Alpha Base. She had to admit, even for her, it was impressive.

  Koa and Melissa ran up to the Stratum, to say hello Freya imagined.

  “Ma’am?” came a voice.

  “Yes?” Freya spun her chair to face a young soldier.

  “A message from the President.” He handed Freya a tablet. A quick fingerprint ID scan and the memo appeared.

  Koa came bounding over, full of childlike energy. “Wow, that’s just wow! I mean, that feeling. In your chest? You know? It’s like... I don’t know what it’s like. Can you des—”

  “Look at this,” Freya interrupted and handed him the tablet. “The president sent it over. Symbols of some kind. Being used as code to mask the hacks on the power stations. Any idea what it is?”

  Koa took the pad and stared at it carefully, pawing at the screen to enlarge and rotate the images. He shook his head. “I can’t say I do. They look kind of familiar, but I can’t place it. Scrawling, really.”

  “Jiahu,” Allison said, peering over Koa’s shoulder.

  “You know this?” Freya asked, hopefully.

  Allison bobbed her head. “Yeah, they look like Jiahu symbols.”

  Koa snapped his fingers. “Yes, that’s it. You have a mind like a steel trap, you know that?”

  �
�That’s because I keep mine out of my pants,” Allison fired back, then took the tablet from Koa. “Jiahu symbols are literally just sixteen distinct markings on several prehistoric artifacts found in a Neolithic Peiligang culture site at Henan, China.”

  Koa shuffled around to Allison’s side to study the screen again. Without looking up he said, "Weren’t Jiahu considered to not be writing itself, but more like sign-use which eventually led to a writing system?"

  “True,” Alison confirmed. “But didn’t Mrs. Teller just say they are being used to mask a code? If whoever is using this has attributed the symbols to writing or a pictorial system, then it may be possible to form a kind of cypher.”

  Freya watched Koa’s face flush as he stared at Allison.

  “What?” Allison said.

  “Nothing,” Koa replied. “Nothing at all.”

  Allison handed Freya the tablet.

  “Thanks,” Freya said. “I’ll fire this info off to the President. You were fetching some drilling fluid?”

  Allison seemed to curse herself under her breath. “Yes, sure. Sorry. I’ll go now.” She ran off into the dark.

  Freya watched the woman go, then focused on the mass of Huahuqui and their human companions who had gathered around the orb in the center of the courtyard. Broadcasting station or not, the localized power of the thing was clear. A bluish glow had encapsulated these Stratum who had grown not only silent but also formed much more structured concentric circles. The hive mind must have been much stronger with the orb in play. Freya could only hope they could utilize the temple to amplify this power and reach out to those Huahuqui controlled by the Nine Veils. The fate of everyone very well might depend on it.

  Location: Tocayōtla, Southwest Rice Terraces, China

  “You ready for this?” KJ asked, bouncing up and down like a fighter waiting to enter the ring.

  Nikolaj stared his brother in the face. “Not really, this is possibly the dumbest idea you’ve had. Forget that witch, you have nothing to prove.”

  “You got a better idea? Besides, I bet secretly you’ve wanted to do this forever.” KJ winked though it didn’t feel genuine, even to him. This was going to hurt. He’d heal quickly, but that wasn’t the point. It had to be bad enough to make the guards pay attention. He glanced at Catherine before fixing back on his brother.