by Wesley Chu
“You animal” was all he heard before one of the Prophus collided with him. Then Palos and his guards appeared, pulling the idiot man off. Enzo smirked. This was exactly the effect he was looking for. The rest of his bodyguards pulled Enzo back to safety.
The powder keg had been lit and the room exploded into a full blown melee; chaos ensued. The unarmed Prophus prisoners attacked en masse, a futile display of courage that was rewarded with barrages of gunfire. Enzo had to admit, even in the chaos, the enemy was organized. Their line reached as far as the Admiral’s body. He was dragged back into their ranks and then they tried to retreat into the submarine. It was too late, however.
The Prophus were surrounded and outgunned. It became a bloodbath as the Genjix soldiers mowed them down. Fortunately for them, his men were still using non-lethal munitions. Before long, three hundred Prophus agents lay in heaps of bodies lining fifty meters long.
Enzo watched a few familiar sparkles of Quasing float into the air. Some of the Prophus must have died after all. Non-lethal munitions could kill just as easily as lethal ones if they struck a vital area. No matter. A few casualties were acceptable.
What were you thinking? You risk your standing. Terms were agreed upon! You will never be able to negotiate with the Prophus ever again.
Enzo wiped the blood from his face as his engineers brought out Penetra scanners. “I do not intend to ever negotiate again, Holy One. The terms of the surrender were that forty percent of the vessels were ours to handle as we saw fit. I was treating Abrams as I saw fit and was attacked. I have honored our terms. They have not. We are no longer held by the terms of surrender. They are all my prisoners now.”
ELEVEN
CAMERON
When I confronted the strange beast, my host realized that he could not be beaten, that this monstrosity was a new form of my kind. I later learned that this strange cousin was the next step in my host’s evolution known as Gigantopithecus.
When I attacked and wrapped my teeth around his shoulder, something awoke in me, and for the first time in millions of years, I remembered. I was sentient and present once more. To my great shock, I recognized a presence; it was Myyk, and he had come searching for us.
Tao
Roen pulled up to the front driveway of Louis and Lee Ann Tesser’s house in his rental car and turned the engine off. He stilled his rapidly beating heart and tried to collect his thoughts. He was actually going to see his boy! It was a three-hour drive from Los Angeles to San Diego, and his mind had raced the entire way.
This is not a good idea.
“He’s my son. How is it ever a bad idea to visit him?”
I was referring to his grandparents. You are probably in mortal danger.
“That’s the truth,” he muttered as he got out of the car and scanned the premises. A winding brick path led to the front door. There was a three-car garage at the west side, and if he needed cover, a grove of trees to the east within sprinting distance.
Originally from New York, Louis and Lee Ann were living out their golden years on seven acres of hills and woods on the outskirts of the city. It was the perfect place for Cameron to grow up, except for the fact that he wasn’t with his parents.
Filled with apprehension, Roen made a trip around the house to scout the grounds. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Louis working in the backyard. He decided to face Louis and get the hostilities over with. There was more room to maneuver outside. If he accidentally broke one of Lee Ann’s figurines while dodging Louis, then he would definitely have to suffer both their wraths.
Roen walked toward Louis, more nervous making than he would be crossing a mine field. He wondered what he’d say to the grandfather of his son. Maybe Louis, having time to have calmed down, would embrace him. They were family after all. That had to count for something, didn’t it?
Doubt it.
“Pessimist.”
I wish you had left the engine running.
Louis was whistling and shoveling dirt with his back to him, gathering mulch or raking or whatever one does with landscape. Eva, their Airedale Terrier, padded around the lawn, sniffing and rolling on the grass, generally being the worst guard dog in history. It looked like Louis was scooping a mound of black soil from a wheelbarrow and building another mound on the ground next to a bed of white flowers. He was also sprinkling the black dirt around a small area enclosed with white rocks. It seemed like a lot of work moving all that earth back and forth.
Roen was not one of those suburban types who ever understood the purpose of a lawn. The lure of having a patch of grass that needed mowing every week escaped him. Yeah, there was a lot of open space, but that just meant more work to do. But then, Louis grew up in the country on a farm or the swamp or the jungle or something like that before he moved to New York, so this had to be what farm country jungle people did for fun.
As usual, the world’s worst guard dog did not even notice him until he was practically on top of them. And staying true to form, instead of barking a warning, Eva cocked her head to one side and began to thump her tail. Louis finally noticed him when Eva’s butt began to join in on the wagging. He looked up and stared, mouth agape.
“Hey, Louis,” Roen began. “How’s it going?”
Louis swung the shovel over his shoulder. “Hey, Lee,” he yelled.
“Yes, dear?” Her voice came from somewhere in the house.
“You know where my varmint gun is?” he said, eyes still intent on Roen.
Well, this is panning out exactly as I expected.
“It’s locked up in the cabinet where you keep all your guns,” she replied.
“Look, I know you’re upset,” Roen began. “And I get it. I messed up a bit.”
“Could you bring it out?” Louis continued. “And some shells too.”
“Where did you put the box of ammo?” she asked.
“On the top cabinet of the kitchen counter. In the far back behind the sugar,” he answered.
I wish you had worn your Kevlar.
“Louis isn’t going to shoot me. Besides, a varmint rifle’s like a .22. It’ll barely break the skin.”
If you say so. I do not relish living the next ten years in Louis or Eva.
“I’d go with the dog.”
Roen raised his hands in surrender. “I don’t have a lot of time and don’t want any trouble. I just came to see Cameron.”
“Hurry please, Lee. The varmint might get away.”
“I’m not having a lot of luck getting through to him.”
You should consider a tactical retreat.
Roen heard a door creak open and then the shuffling of footsteps on the wooden deck. “I don’t know why you keep trying to shoot these rabbits, Louis. You never hit one. Your eyes just aren’t what they used to be. Besides, even if you do, what do you think you’re going to do with... oh. Hi, Roen.”
“Hey, Lee Ann,” Roen said, not taking his eyes off of Louis.
Lee Ann handed the rifle to Louis and shook her finger at them. “Now boys, don’t do anything you’re going to regret. I’m not bailing anyone out of jail today.” She gave Louis a peck on the cheek. “I’ll set another plate for lunch. You good for omelets, Roen?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Lee Ann gave them a boys-will-be-boys look and walked back into the house. Louis upended the box into his palm and picked out a few bullets.
“He won’t shoot.”
There is cover at your three. Louis is left handed and has a bad hip, so if you go in at forty degrees...
“I am not taking out my wife’s father.”
Just giving you options.
“No. Just no.”
Louis loaded a round into the rifle and pointed it at Roen. “You saved me the effort of getting immunization shots. Now, you have ten seconds before I pop a couple holes in you. You better start running, boy.”
Remember, cover at your three.
“He’s not going to shoot.”
“One,” Louis began.
“I don’t want any problems. I just want to see my son.” Roen pleaded, feeling a little nervous.
“Two.”
“I’m still married to Jill,” he said more emphatically.
That was the wrong thing to say.
“Three.”
“Come on, let’s be serious for a second. You’re not going to shoot me. Let’s talk this over.”
I see your negotiation skills are as sharp as ever.
“Seven.”
“Wait, what happened to four?”
“Eight.”
“Fine. I dare you. Give it your best shot.”
“Nine.” Louis uncocked the safety and lifted the rifle to his shoulders.
Roen threw up his hands. “Wait, wait. OK, you’re going to shoot. Hang on!”
“Ten.”
Roen prepared to dive to the right. He could have dived to his left onto the bed of flowers, but crushing Louis’ hydrangeas or whatever they were wouldn’t help the situation.
“Daddiieeee!” a high pitched squeal rang through the air. Standing outside with Lee Ann’s arms around his shoulders, Cameron waddled toward Roen as fast as his three-year-old legs could carry him. Barking enthusiastically, Eva bounded up to Cameron and bowled him over, licking his face as he writhed around on the ground like an overturned roly poly. Cameron didn’t cry though; not his boy. After failing to defend himself against her vicious barrage of dog kisses, Cameron went on the offensive and smacked her lightly on the muzzle. Then it became a game of tag. First Cameron would waddle after her while she barked and pretended to pounce, and then he would book in the other direction while she ran circles around him. Obviously, in all the excitement of playing with a brown and black dog that he saw every day, his father had already become an afterthought.
To Roen, it was the most beautiful scene in the world. He swelled with pride up as his boy ran with reckless abandon, playing with the furry beast twice his size. He caught a lump in his throat in the tender moments when Cameron gently hugged Eva, and saw his son stand up for himself when she tried to maul him. And he looked so joyful, so wonderfully happy. A tear escaped Roen’s eye and trickled down his cheeks. He forgot about the gun still pointed at his head. Frankly, he didn’t care. If Louis shot him dead right now, it would be alright. He would die looking at his son giggling and laughing. What more could a father ask for?
How about a little recognition that he has not seen you in a year. He prioritized the dog over you. Are you just going to stand there or go give him a hug?
“I don’t know. I didn’t think past this. Right now, I just want to watch.”
Probably for the best. Louis still has you in his sights. He might shoot if you make any sudden moves.
Hesitantly, Roen walked toward the two. They were rolling around on the ground; Eva still trying to drown him with licks, and Cameron using her face as a punching bag. Out of the corner of his eye, Roen saw Louis grudgingly lower the rifle. He wasn’t sure how serious Louis really was about shooting him. Knowing the old man and having played poker with him dozens of times, he knew Louis rarely bluffed. Lee Ann gave him a neutral look. She was always a hard one to read. Being a former trial attorney, she kept her emotions close to her vest and rarely rushed to judgment.
Eva, on the other hand, was thrilled for another playmate. She disengaged from Cameron and promptly pounced on Roen, knocking him over and licking his face. This in turn made Cameron jealous, so he joined in on the festivities and leapt on top of Roen as well. For the first time in almost two years, Roen held his son in his arms.
“Last time I saw him, he had to use the wall to stand. Now he’s running around all by himself,” Roen said, his voice cracking.
“We can’t get him to stop running all over the place,” Lee Ann remarked. “Nowadays, we just tie him up to the dog and let them run each other ragged.” She went to Louis and took the rifle away. “Go wash up. It’s time to eat.” She patted him on the cheek. “Be on your best behavior, dear.” She turned to Roen as she walked back into the kitchen. “Clean the slobber off Cam’s face before you put him at the table. Make sure he washes his hands.”
Roen wouldn’t have it any other way. Cam hated having his face washed and fought the towel just as hard as Roen remembered. And when they sat down at the table, he made just as big of a mess as he always did. Roen loved every minute of it. Lunch was much less uncomfortable than he thought it’d be. It was mostly because the three of them focused their attention only on Cameron.
Lee Ann was pleasant as always, and Louis was minimally civil. And though feeding a toddler was time-consuming, it felt like the shortest two hours in his life. He was sad when Lee Ann took the plates away. He looked at his watch: 2pm.
We have to leave soon if you want to catch that flight.
“I don’t want to go.”
There are many reasons why we do not want to fight. Your son is a reason why you do.
“You’re right. If what we think is happening is true, then Cam won’t have one.”
Exactly.
“Roen,” Louis said, standing up. “Walk with me.”
Without looking, he turned and headed out of the house and back to the mound of dirt from this morning. He picked up a shovel and began building new piles of dirt. Roen checked the time again. Should he tell Louis he had to leave now? He thought better of it and picked up the extra shovel. Then he joined in with the digging.
Every once in a while, Louis signaled that the new pile of dirt they were building was large enough, and then he’d point to another spot to build another. Roen would then load the wheelbarrow with dirt, move it to the new spot, and unload. Then Louis would sprinkle the new earth evenly over the ground.
“I wonder if they have to replace the top soil every year. Sounds like a drag. If this was my lawn, I’d pour cement over it and make a tennis court.”
You have seen the reports. The weather patterns are changing. Global temperatures are increasing. Do not think this was natural. The Genjix have been intentionally pushing the temperatures and carbon concentrations up for decades now. If we do not stop them, in a few years, losing top soil will be the least of your concerns.
They landscaped for the better part of three hours. Roen thought about bringing up his flight a few more times, but it was never the right moment. By the time 5pm rolled around, it was too late. He had broken his promise to Wuehler but he really didn’t care. For now, moving this dirt with Louis was all that mattered.
“I looked you up,” Louis said finally around sundown. They were building the last pile of dirt.
“You did what?”
Louis wiped his brow and looked him straight in the eye. “After Jill told me about you being gone for months on end, I got suspicious and looked you up. Thought maybe you were with the mob or running from bad debt. Hired an ex-IRS agent and a federal investigator.”
“I didn’t know you cared enough to hire a snoop,” Roen said.
“I do when it’s my baby girl involved.”
“What did they find?”
Louis scratched the crown of his head. “That’s the thing. They didn’t find anything. All the records about you were a bunch of crap.”
Remember the time I said Louis was a genius? I rest my case.
“How do you know it’s a bunch of crap?”
Louis chuckled as he finished spreading the dirt around. “I was a corporate raider for thirty years. You think we just looked at financial statements and forked over a hundred million? I knew if a CEO liked heroin with his eggs, or if the trustees preferred domestic or imported hookers. We sicced guys on the entire board of companies for months. And that’s what I saw in your records.”
“I don’t like imported hookers,” Roen stammered.
You are obtuse to the point of stupidity.
“It’s too clean,” Louis drawled. “Like someone typed it all out and made sure every piece fits just like it’s supposed to. Done well, I might add, but not passing this sniff test.” Louis ta
pped his long schnoz for emphasis.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Roen shrugged.
A little too late for that.
“Tao, our cleaning teams suck.”
All they care about is preventing the Genjix from tracing you, not inquisitive father-in-laws.
“So what are you? FBI? ATF? You don’t seem smart enough to be CIA.”
“I didn’t know you had to be a genius to be in the CIA,” Roen muttered.
Louis shook his head. “Don’t matter. You won’t tell me anyway. Is this why you had to leave Jill alone for so long? You doing something for our country?”
“Yes.” There was no hesitation in Roen’s voice. It was close enough to the truth, though in his eyes, he was doing this for the entire world. In any case, if it got Louis off his back, a little half lie was acceptable.
Louis paused. “Does Jill know?”
Roen nodded.
“I see, and you flew all the way here to see your son for a few hours. You’re heading somewhere, aren’t you? Somewhere you might not come back from.”
Brilliant man. If I had only found him forty years ago.
Roen nodded again. It was close enough to the truth. He didn’t actually think this mission was any more dangerous than any other, but today made him reevaluate his life. He needed to be around for his son.
Louis finally softened. “Alright. Sun’s setting. Cameron goes to bed at eight. You have until we tuck him in.”
Roen thanked him and took off into the house. He spent the rest of the night with Cameron, reading a story, playing building blocks, racing toy cars. He tried to memorize every detail about of his boy, from how he smiled to what his new favorite toy was. And for a few hours, he was just a guy playing with his son.
When 9.30 rolled around, Lee Ann stopped by Cameron’s room and knocked on the door. “It’s past his bedtime,” she said softly.
Roen nodded and helped put Cameron to bed. “You be good to your grandpa and grandma, alright, buddy?” he murmured.
