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by Gareth Worthington

  “You don’t know that!” Merry and Lex said in unison.

  “They’re right,” Nikolaj added. “And even if it was going to happen—what? He gets to make sure it does? Why does he get to choose who lives?”

  Svetlana screwed her eyes closed.

  KJ groaned. The injury hurt like hell, but he could feel it starting to heal, sewing together one cell at a time. He shifted to a slightly more comfortable position, though the wall still dug into his back. “If the Doyen is as reasonable as you say he is, he’ll stop this bullshit. But, we need to take the British witch out, and probably convince the Huahuqui loyal to the Doyen not to kill us, without weapons or an army.” He looked to Nikolaj. “And you thought I came up with stupid ideas.”

  Svetlana shot KJ a scathing stare. “You are in no condition to do anything. You stay here and let me go find the Doyen. If I don’t come back in an hour, then ...”

  “Then we’re all dead anyway,” Catherine offered.

  Svetlana gave an almost imperceptible nod.

  “Fine,” Nikolaj said. “Go.”

  Before KJ could protest, Svetlana had disappeared back out into the tunnel.

  “Nice going, asshole,” KJ said, wheezing.

  “We can’t rely on her,” Nikolaj replied, flatly. “We have to get a message to Alpha Base. You think the Doyen is going to stop what he’s planning? You think she can convince him?”

  KJ couldn’t argue. He was certain they could save Svetlana, but the Doyen? Whatever plan had been cooked up in the last twenty years wasn’t just going to be abandoned. “What do you suggest?” he said, pawing at the staples in his gash.

  Nikolaj rubbed his jaw. “They must have a dampening field. Otherwise we would have detected this Phalanx before. A signal jammer. If we can find it, and knock it out ...”

  “Great,” KJ said, groaning as he tried and failed to climb to his feet.

  “Not you.” Nikolaj knelt and pressed a hand against KJ’s shoulder, forcing him gently back to the wall. He searched KJ’s eyes. “Not you. She wasn’t wrong about that. K’awin and Catherine can stay here with you. Everyone else comes with me.”

  For the second time in the space of just a few minutes, KJ watched friends dash into the dark tunnel. They were off to save the world. He’d dragged them all the way here, against their will, and yet now he was the one near death on the floor of a hidey hole, while they were out there finishing what he’d started. He tried to think of what his father would do now, but nothing came. Because he didn’t know his father. He never did. Instead, his thoughts drifted to his mom and Jonathan. They’d told him, warned him: his father was brave, but reckless. It’s what had gotten him killed. And now here KJ was. History repeating itself. What would Jonathan or his mom do now? They’d take responsibility for their actions. That’s what they’d do.

  “I know that look, KJ,” Catherine said.

  KJ snapped from his trance and fixed his stare on Catherine. “It’s my fault everyone’s here. And now they’re out there, risking their lives and I’m in here. I can’t just sit here.”

  “I didn’t think you would,” Catherine said, eyebrows raised as if waiting for the rest of his idea to tumble out.

  “Nikolaj went after the telepathy jamming device. Svetlana went after the Doyen. What’s the one piece everyone’s forgetting?”

  Catherine searched his eyes He didn’t project the answer but did will her to find it on her own.

  “The other Nenets and their Huahuqui,” Catherine said, finally.

  “Bingo,” KJ said. “No army, no war.”

  “You can’t take on an entire army.”

  “I don’t intend to. But, if I can get the Stratum to follow me, maybe I can get these guys to as well. Mom keeps telling me I’m special. That I must step up and lead. Well, now’s my chance.” KJ climbed to his knees and pushed out a hand which Catherine grabbed and hoisted him to his feet. “Time to do what I was born to do.”

  Location: Theung village, Northern Laos

  Jonathan crouched in the dark at the edge of the small village. Dark heavy rain clouds ambled across the sky, slowly and evenly emptying their contents, obscuring the moon and stars. The boys’ trail from the parachute site and their subsequent tracks in the jungle had ended abruptly at this small collection of huts. Their footprints never left the area, only tire marks did, suggesting they went in a vehicle or ... He swallowed hard. The mere thought the boys were dead made the stone in his stomach grow so large it felt as if its weight may anchor him to the spot. Freya would never forgive him for not coming sooner. He’d never forgive himself. What the hell are they doing here? he thought.

  The light, rhythmic patter of rain had offered some semblance of comfort, but now it began to fall as if God himself had emptied His bathwater on the world hoping to wash them all away. Jonathan adjusted his jungle issue hat, adorned with a banana frond, and wiped his drenched, camouflage-paint-covered face. Waiting to engage the village was like hovering over Schrodinger’s box; right now, his sons could be alive or dead. Going in would give him an answer either way.

  Tony Franco’s voice came over the radio. “Boss, checked and double checked. Can’t see your boys or their companions. Looks like locals only. No major fire arms, women and children. But, could be an ambush.”

  Teller keyed up the walkie talkie. “Roger that. Lauder, you see anything?”

  Matt’s husky voice whispered from the speaker. “Confirmed. So far just locals. It’s been a half hour, are we going in or what?”

  Teller sighed. “Confirmed. Close in on target.”

  Shuffling close to the ground, Jonathan slinked from under the cover of a tree exposing himself to the full force of the downpour. The raindrops were huge, each one slapping the brim of his hat and the wet mud at his feet. He moved slowly, scanning his three and nine positions, gun held high, and clocked Lauder and Franco closing in on opposite sides of the village. Behind each lead, a handful of men brought up the rear.

  In the bushes off to his right he spotted the square pink snout of one of the Huahuqui poking out, sniffing the air. A human’s arms slipped from between the leaves and reigned the creature back in. Teller clenched his jaw. The Stratum had insisted on coming along, but they had to stay out of sight and out of trouble.

  Teller switched to hand signals and directed everyone within visual range to breach the doors—all of them simultaneously. Two of Teller’s crew flanked him and climbed the wooden stairs to the entrance of the nearest hut. Jonathan silently counted out to three, then kicked in the door shouting for the occupants to drop their weapons and lie on the floor.

  Men shouted, women and children screamed. But no-one fired anything. Teller stared at the scared eyes of the inhabitants, shock etched into their sunbaked faces. They were not soldiers, assassins or even opportunists who could have robbed and killed KJ and Nikolaj.

  The bawling subsided. Teller and his soldiers lowered their weapons.

  “Anything at your end?” Teller called into the radio.

  “That’s a negative Boss. I have a couple of families here,” Tony replied.

  “Same here,” Lauder agreed.

  The radio crackled with more confirmations from the other dwellings.

  “Fuck it,” Teller said, pulling off his hat. “Get up, you can get up.”

  The villagers didn’t move.

  Teller waved them up.

  The locals slowly climbed to their feet.

  “Have some American’s been through here?” Teller asked the nearest grey-haired Laotian.

  The man just stared blankly.

  “American?” Teller pressed. “Uh... my Cantonese is rusty. Mei gwok jan?”

  More blank stares from the small throng.

  Teller shook his head. Right, this is Laos, he thought.

  The door to the abode creaked open. Teller swung his weapon around and pointed it at the intruder only to find the same square pink snout he’d seen before poking through the gap. A young Huahuqui, plump and playful,
waddled into the room sniffing the air and slapping its tiny lips together. The creature toddled around Teller’s legs and rubbed itself on his fatigues like a cat before noting the villagers and with outward warble of glee trotted over to them. Jonathan turned to the locals, convinced he would have to calm them a second time, but it wasn’t necessary. The old grey-haired man with whom Teller had failed to converse was now on his haunches stroking the gills of the little creature, a huge smile creasing his leathery skin.

  “Wow these critters sure do have a way with people,” one of the soldiers said.

  “This is more than that,” Teller replied, more to himself. “They’ve seen the Huahuqui before. No not seen... been near. Interacted with.”

  “Phaya Naga,” the old man said, nodding to the Huahuqui.

  Teller offered a weak smile. “Phaya Naga,” he repeated, then keyed up the radio. “Lauder, Franco, I think these guys have seen the Huahuqui before. I think they may have seen our Huahuqui before.”

  “So far we haven’t been able to get two words out of them,” Tony said.

  “Maybe we don’t need words,” Teller replied, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket. He tabbed the photo gallery app, which burst to life with floating images, the most frequently accessed hovering at the top of the screen. For a moment he just stared at them. The most accessed photos were easily ten years old, his sons and their mother all squashed together to take selfies on Jonathan’s phone. They’d done it to surprise him, so when he opened his phone at work he’d see the images. It was so long ago, but they were still his favorite. The smile slipped from his lips. Did he even have a recent photo of the boys?

  Teller skipped through the gallery until he came to a picture from Thanksgiving two years ago. The last time he’d really spoken to KJ face to face. While he knew the villagers wouldn’t care that the image was so old, he swallowed away his guilt and turned the phone to them.

  “Have you seen these men?” Teller asked, showing the image to each of the locals.

  They all murmured until the old man rose back to his feet and walked to the window. He pointed out into the dark, nodding.

  “They were here,” Teller said, exhaling his worry. “They took a car?” he asked, making his voice louder as if it may help, then added a driving charade just in case.

  The old man bobbed his head again.

  “Hell yes.” Teller pulled a map from his side pocket and dropped to the floor where he could spread it out. The door pushed open again. Another Huahuqui wandered in as if it owned the place. Then another, and another. Soon the room was near full of Huahuqui and their human companions. Teller was on all fours, literally nose to nose with one of the creatures. He grabbed the map and stood up. “Can you show me where they went?” he asked tapping the chart.

  The old man gave him a quizzical stare.

  “Goddammit, I wish someone could speak Laotian,” Teller said.

  A blue haze began to emanate from the Stratum, and a low hum rumbled through the wooden walls and floorboards. The glow enveloped everyone, soaking into their very being. Teller searched the eyes of those nearest him, and though he could not hear their thoughts, he felt one with them; he understood them, and they understood him. His gaze roved to the old Laotian man and without uttering a word he knew that not only did the elder know where KJ was, he’d even take Teller there. Jonathan just hoped he wasn’t too far behind.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Location: Tocayōtla, Southwest Rice Terraces, China

  “What do you mean, you don’t know where they are?” The Doyen said, his tone even despite his annoyance.

  Victoria shoved Nyalku in the back, making him take another step toward their leader, who sat in his large chair behind the even larger desk. The orb, in its container, glowed and pulsated in the dimly lit room.

  “They escaped from the hold, but we can’t find them on the perimeter, and aerial sweeps haven’t picked them up on the rice terraces. They must still be hiding here,” Nyalku said without lifting his gaze from the floor.

  “How could they hide inside our own complex?” the Doyen replied, his eyes narrowed.

  “Svetlana is helping them,” Victoria interjected, practically spitting the words.

  “My Svetlana?” the Doyen asked.

  “Yes, your precious Svetlana. She’s out of control.”

  The Doyen stroked the top of Neith’s head, confident in his plans—the cosmos's plans. “You have learned nothing if you think I let things happen by chance, Victoria. You think I do not know my own daughter? It is her defiance and her buried bond to her past that brought young Kelly Junior to us. Do you not see? It could only be her. If we had chased him down, we would have failed.”

  “You used her? You knew she’d fumble the shot and that he’d come looking for her.”

  “All part of the great plan. All hoped-for things will come to you, who have the strength to watch and wait.”

  “Don’t quote Fane at me,” Victoria nearly choked on her words. “Your great scheme has backfired. She’s betrayed you.”

  The Doyen shook his head. “She has lost her way, confused, as was to be expected. Soon it will all fall into place. The Great Syzygy will come to pass, and the Universe’s will shall become known.”

  “Universe’s will?” Victoria scoffed. “You really believe your own bullshit now, don’t you? I told you we should have dealt with her my way.”

  Anger, an emotion the Doyen disliked feeling, rose in his chest. “Your mind control serum? Yes, I am aware you continue your research. Nothing happens in these walls without me knowing. You forget your place, Victoria. The Children of the Sixth Sun are to be revered, not poisoned with chemicals.”

  Neith, his Huahuqui, warbled in agreement.

  Victoria’s face twisted into a snarl. “You have grown weak, Doyen. If anyone here has been poisoned it’s you! Drunk on your own superiority and belief in your damn veils. You may know everything within these walls, but not everything outside of them.”

  The Doyen rose from his chair, the thin curtain of serenity stripped away, the blood in his veins hot. Victoria’s knowledge of the Huahuqui had been invaluable, and until recently her loyalty unfailing. But the bitterness inside her had grown and mutated. She was not pure, neither human nor Huahuqui. A bastard of the US government, grown in a tube. He had tried to bring her into the fold, but it was no use. No Huahuqui could bond with her. No human could stand to be near her. She was malignant and needed to be cut out. “You will remove yourself to your temple,” the Doyen said. The orb on his desk began to glow while Neith padded on the spot.

  Victoria laughed, long and shrill. “Your feeble hypnotic tricks won’t work on me. Whatever was done to me, I am immune.”

  The Doyen banged his fist on the desk. “You think yourself better than us?”

  The woman’s laugh subsided, her features growing cold. “I am an abomination, despised by humans, the Huahuqui, and by God. But soon, it will not matter.”

  “What do you mean?” the Doyen asked.

  Victoria’s expression sank into a cruel leer.

  “Victoria, what have you done?” the Doyen pressed, his heart beating faster at the thought of his life’s work ruined.

  “Your problem is that you believe yourself to be equal to God. You’re not. Saving your own pitiful lives and the lives of those you deem worthy. Our creator needs a clean slate. No humans, no Huahuqui. Nothing.”

  “The coming of Apophis will reset the world, and bring in the age of the Sixth—”

  “Oh, enough of your Sixth Sun,” Victoria snapped. “Apophis is not enough. Humanity must be wiped from the planet.”

  “You believe that you are more powerful than Apophis? More powerful than the universe?”

  “The human race thought itself more powerful. Now I will demonstrate what happens when you combine man’s ignorance with God’s divinity. Imagine the destructive force of Apophis and the nuclear power stations exploding!”

  The Doyen’s eyes widened.
The asteroid’s impact would create a global shift in weather systems, spreading the devastating radioactivity. The chances of even his temple surviving were infinitesimal. Perhaps the only ones to survive would be those—

  “Of course, I don’t want to forget those locked away in the bunkers,” Victoria sneered, apparently reading his thoughts. “How long does it take for one to starve?”

  What had she done? He’d left too many things in her charge; the power stations, the biomes, leading the Phalanx. She’d lost her mind. The universe had a will, an unspoken plan. Apophis was always to strike the Earth, he had just ensured humans had not deflected it. But this... if she had really engineered the power stations to explode and the biomes to seal shut ... There would be nothing left. No seed of humanity or the Huahuqui to germinate and flourish in a new world. Her vision was one of an irradiated and barren land, inhospitable to any life that had come before.

  “You’re insane,” the Doyen said. “We did not plan for the power stations to explode.”

  “You may not have.”

  “You have failed God and the universe.”

  His words seemed to dent her resolve.

  “I failed God by trusting those in power, including you. I believed in you. I waited and hoped against hope that you would emerge from whatever self-righteous buffoonery you had wrapped yourself in and come to your senses. You could have submitted to God and led my Phalanx into a new future.”

  “You’re doing this because you feel wronged by me?”

  Nyalku shuffled on the spot, fear growing in his eyes as the tension ballooned, threatening to pop at any moment.

  “I am doing this because you have shown me that you are too weak!” Victoria near shouted. “If you are the best that can be made from God’s great experiment, then He needs the opportunity to start over. Humanity and the Huahuqui were shaped and molded over and over, but to no avail. We had our chance. One can only rework a sword so many times before it becomes brittle. God must make something entirely new.”

  “Your soul is black, it’s opaqueness obscuring your vision.”