“Yeah, well, I’ll be leading the attack I guess.”
Florence was about to retort when she spotted Naomi wandering up behind them.
“Speaking of which,” the receiving operative said. “I have a briefing to deliver.”
Florence grinned at Naomi and wrapped her in a bear hug. It just felt right - she hadn’t seen her since the recent mission.
“Sorry about Martin,” Naomi said in her ear. “That can’t have been easy to see.”
Florence stepped away with a sad smile. “All part of the job.”
Naomi nodded understandingly before blowing on a small wooden tube. It was a wolf flute - lycans had been using them for centuries. The advantage of wolf flutes was that only lycans could hear them.
Florence watched Yasmin closely. She only turned to face Naomi when Jack did. Florence suspected she didn’t hear the sound, but then she hadn’t connected with her spirit beast yet. It was only fair to give her time.
“I’ll keep this short and sweet,” Naomi said as the other lycans came swinging down off their ropes. Florence wrinkled her nose. Male werewolves smelled like blood and aggression. Their pheromones were extremely intimidating. These guys would probably stay shifted for the whole briefing, just for kicks.
They all stood behind Florence, making her squirm uncomfortably. She’d been putting up with this low-grade bullying for years. As the only female werewolf in her Chapter, there wasn’t much she could do. To make a big deal of it would only make things worse.
She glanced over her shoulder to see who was coming along to Berlin.
The tall one with the jet black fur was Max. A fearsome fighter. The brown-white one was Eddison. Slightly more bearable than the others. Well versed in lycan lore. The grey-white was Paulie, Jack’s best friend. He was probably the worst of the lot. Always bitchy, always looking to raise himself by pushing others down. A real piece of work, and a classic example of someone who failed to live by the Lycan Code of Honor.
Well, now she knew who was on the Berlin strike force. Mother Arena was throwing everything at the Berlin Club - these werewolves were the best in the Chapter.
Naomi ripped open a sealed file and began handing out plane tickets.
“United Flight 542 out of JFK, 7am tomorrow morning.”
Naomi glanced at Jack. “You’d want to be tucked in early tonight, Foley.”
“We’ll see,” Jack said complacently. Florence resisted the urge to clock him in the jaw. That would sort him out.
“For security reasons you will not be seated together,” Naomi went on. “On touchdown at Schonefeld Airport you will proceed directly to the Hotel Brandenburg, where the Berlin Chapter will contact you.”
“We aren’t staying at the Chapter?” Paulie asked. As a werewolf his voice sounded like knives on steel.
“Mother Androska has politely refused our request for sanctuary,” Naomi said hesitantly. “They understandably fear reprisals from the Berlin Club.”
Florence could hear the werewolves behind her snorting in disgust. Cooperation with other lycan Chapters was often tarnished with suspicion. Lycans tended to form tight, localized packs, an ‘us against the world’ type of attitude. It was difficult to keep all the international lycan Chapters in line. It was a miracle that the Lycan Society had a Code of Honor at all.
Naomi stood clutching her empty data file to her chest, looking at each of the lycans in turn. Yasmin was breathing deeply, overawed by the situation. Jack stood at her shoulder protectively.
“Touchdown in Berlin, identify Herr X, kill him. Our intelligence suggests he is not only the spiritual head of the Berlin Club, but the one who writes the cheques. Complete the mission quickly and return home. Stay vital.”
“With the Mother’s blessing,” Florence said automatically along with the other werewolves. ‘Vitality’ was what Lycans prized above anything else. Vitality represented strength, wisdom and longevity. It was a lycan’s power, her reason for being. More than that, the entire pack depended on collective vitality to ensure its continued existence. Florence thought of the cercarium, how dead lycans accelerated the healing process of sick or injured pack brothers and sisters. The community-minded aspect of lycan life was probably what she loved the most.
Naomi nodded and stepped aside. “Take it easy tonight, wolves. Berlin looks like a trap.”
Florence took Yasmin by the elbow, troubled by Naomi’s final warning. “I’ll show you to your quarters,” she said firmly.
Yasmin looked over to Jack, who nodded reluctantly. It irritated Florence that this girl was already asking permission to leave his sight.
“Thank you, Your Majesty,” she couldn’t help saying as she lead Yasmin away.
The girl was quiet as Florence took her up to the habitation wing. Finding a spare room wasn’t a problem, as there were always several kept for visiting Lycans.
Florence stopped at a simple room with a basic camp bed, bedside table and wash basin.
“We tend to live simply,” Florence said, trying not to sound apologetic. She was proud of the spartan way Lycans lived. “I’ll have someone bring you clothes,” she added.
Yasmin considered the room with a worried expression, though Florence could tell it wasn’t the accommodation that was eating at her. There were probably a thousand questions running through her head, questions she might have asked Jack but was now to too shy to venture. Florence felt a twinge of guilt, knowing that she would make a poor mentor to this girl. What could she do? She preferred action, not words.
“I’ll come get you at 0600,” was all she could say.
Florence had almost made it clear when she heard Yasmin’s silky voice.
“Will I know?”
“Excuse me?”
“Will I know what I am after Berlin?” Yasmin asked. Her eyes were clouded with deep anxiety. Florence’s heart gave way. She realized she had no idea what it must feel like to have a spirit beast slumbering within. To not know your spirit beast was like stumbling around in the dark. No identity, no vitality, no purpose.
Florence stepped forward and squeezed Yasmin’s hand.
“I swear by the old Gods, Yasmin,” she said with complete conviction. “We’ll unlock what’s inside you. Together.”
6 - Tomas
Poltava, Ukraine
HERR X STOOD close to the cell, watching with intense concentration as the chimera thrashed around. There was no way of knowing what the small, unassuming man was thinking.
All Tomas could do was keep his eyes fixed on his diagnostics, his body rigid with tension. Petyr had already attempted conversation with the German billionaire but had been shot down with those cold, cold eyes.
Eventually Herr X turned and made his way over to Tomas, his cane clicking on the floor. The scientist steeled himself for action.
“Most interesting, Dr. Verdano,” came the quiet voice, as thin as a stiletto. “Perhaps we can talk more about this in private.”
“Of course, sir,” Tomas said hastily, signaling for Petyr to shut the experiment down and clean up.
Herr X calmly followed Tomas to a spiral staircase at the rear of the lab. It lead to a bright office that overlooked the cavernous space. Herr X walked straight to Tomas’s chair, beckoning the scientist to take one of the visitor’s chairs. It was a subtle show of power that immediately put Tomas on the back foot.
The scientist settled himself as well as he could, not bothering to trade pleasantries. He knew from experience that to attempt conversation with this man was more stressful than it was worth. Instead, he looked at the German expectantly, taking the opportunity to study him at close range.
Close-cropped hair in the fashion of most German businessmen in their sixties. Thin steel-rimmed glasses. Pale complexion. Tomas had never seen Herr X consume anything other than coffee. Imperious nose, full lips. Icy blue eyes that suggested extreme intelligence but little in the way of empathy or warmth. A slight, wiry frame. The walking stick helped with an undisclosed injury.
/> All in all, a brutally spare, efficient, intimidating man. The type who didn’t even need to try. Those men, Tomas knew, had spent lifetimes acting rather than talking.
“That’s a quite a beast you have out there,” the German said in a surprisingly conversational tone.
Tomas let himself relax a little. Perhaps this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. “Not quite what I expected, but an amazing creature, no?”
Herr X chuckled, a strange, strangled noise from the back of his leathery throat. With a shock Tomas realized there was no mirth in it at all.
“I lay a fortune on the table, build you a scientific paradise, afford you every courtesy imaginable,” he said as if reeling off a shopping list. “And you give me a sideshow horror. A junkyard abomination.”
Tomas opened and closed his mouth, speechless. Years of toil flashed before his eyes. Was it all for nothing? He thought Herr X would be ecstatic. He hadn’t delivered a lycan but the chimera was a monumental scientific breakthrough. What had he done that was so wrong?
“Are you a student of history, Dr. Verdano?”
Tomas shook his head, still shell shocked. “There’s an old saying among scientists, Herr X. History doesn’t -”
“Exist,” Herr X interjected. “Yes, I’ve heard that one. You people are all about understanding the moment. Rather limiting, I find.”
Tomas shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t like where this was going.
“The Dark Ages were one of man’s biggest challenges,” Herr X mused, activating the Newton’s cradle Tomas kept on his desk. It clicked a steady rhythm to the older man’s story.
“Four centuries of darkness and despair. Those words are bandied around history books easily enough, but can you imagine what it would’ve been like living through that time?”
Tomas shook his head - it seemed the most judicious thing to do at that point.
“My family line can be traced back to Dresden, in the east of Germany. During the Dark Ages the city was just a hamlet, ringed by a tall wooden fence to keep the monsters out. And, as we both know very well, the monsters were all too real.”
Herr X fixed Tomas with a stare of such intensity the scientist had to look away.
“The villagers were attacked night and day. Ghouls. Wights. Zombies. Children were taken. Two, maybe three every night. We cannot imagine the terror of that time.”
The German produced a small, cloth-bound book from his breast pocket.
“I know this because my family was assiduous in recording these events,” he said with a trace of pride. “They did not shy away from the cold, hard truth. The Flux is an assault on the nobility, the sanctity, of all humans.”
Tomas nodded, framing a diplomatic answer. “The Flux has the ability to change all of us.”
“Indeed,” Herr X spat, looking like he’d swallowed a lemon. “How I wish it were not so.”
The German rose and went to stand by the glass wall that overlooked the laboratory. He clasped his hands behind him, his cane held horizontally.
“All these years you have studied the Flux, Tomas,” he observed. “And I still know more than you.”
The hard-working scientist in Tomas suppressed a surge of anger. How dare this man of numbers and stocks waltz in here and completely trash his work with a few words? How could he possibly understand the difficulties Tomas faced?
Herr X turned toward the scientist, his eyes flint hard. “You went down the wrong rabbit hole, my friend,” he said finally. “I asked for a lycan. You tried to build me one.”
A smile played on the edge of the older man’s cruel lips.
“Lost among all your scientific processes and clinical tests, you forgot the most important thing. There’s a mutation within all of us, just waiting to be set free. It’s what the Flux does.”
Tomas nodded uncertainly.
“You tried to play God, and that thing out there is the result.”
Tomas stirred himself into action. “Herr X, that ‘thing’ is a chimera, a -”
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll suit our needs,” said Herr X with a menacing smile. “We’ll bring it to Berlin.”
Tomas shook his head, feeling white hot fury overwhelm his caution.
“You’re angry,” Herr X purred. “That’s fine with me. Be angry. Berlin needs angry right now.”
Tomas clenched his fists into tight balls. Did this man have an answer for everything? An hour ago Tomas felt like the smartest man in the world. Now he wasn’t even the smartest man in the room. Herr X clearly knew much, much more than he’d ever given him credit for.
“Speak your mind, Doktor,” the older man encouraged.
“I’m a genetic scientist,” Tomas said bitterly. “If you want to understand how the Flux changes people at a cellular level, I’m your man. If you want to communicate with your spirit beast, get a shaman.”
Herr X laughed a second time, his sunken chest heaving. This one was more genuine than the first, though there was no mistaking its scornful tone.
“Who says I haven’t?” the German said cryptically.
Tomas looked at Herr X with curiosity. Of course. The German would be a fool if his only line of Flux research was the Silo. He wondered what other discoveries had been made.
“I needed you to break down the nuts and bolts of flux transformation,” Herr X said crisply. “You’ve done that, after a fashion.”
Tomas felt like rolling his eyes.
“I also needed someone who could induce spirit beasts the natural way. That search was more difficult than you could possibly imagine. Diviners, they’re called. There used to more of them during the Dark Ages. For some reason their numbers thinned out.”
Tomas’s logical mind ticked over with the possibilities. If only he’d been able to work with this ‘diviner’! The things he might have achieved were unimaginable. For starters, he might have been able to map the genome for every variety of Flux monster. Lycans, aquila, djinni … vampyra. The process would’ve been so ridiculously easy if a person’s spirit beast was known first.
“Don’t get too excited,” Herr X said, watching Tomas closely. “Diviners don’t like other people.”
Tomas swallowed. There was always a catch.
“And yet,” Herr X continued complacently, “I would like you to meet with her.”
Something in the German’s tone made Tomas’s blood run cold. “Why do I feel like I’ve gone from scientist to subject?”
Herr X nodded - the first real sign of respect Tomas had been afforded.
“Touche, Tomas, touche,” he said. “Let me put it this way. You’re one of the smartest men I have in my arsenal. You also have the highest moral standards. I respect that. If you will not test your theories on other live humans, I wonder if you could put yourself under the microscope?”
Tomas blinked. Suddenly everything was clear - Herr X wanted him to meet with the diviner to determine what his spirit beast was. And after that? Tomas almost swore when he realized the full implications of the German’s grand plan.
Whatever creature Tomas turned out to be, Herr X wanted him to map the genome and locate others with the same blueprint. In other words, Tomas was to become a diviner of sorts, building an army of creatures like himself.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he was at the center of it, Herr X’s plan seemed almost brilliant. If the Flux had begun in earnest, it made sense to let his spirit beast free and find his kin, if they existed. For all he knew he could be aligned with some rare thing like a yeti, doomed to roam the earth alone and friendless.
Tomas’ train of thought took him to another realization - Herr X had demanded he undergo extensive medical screening before working for him. Tomas thought it was routine at the time, but now …
“You suspect what I am,” he muttered darkly.
The German’s eyes glittered with malice. “I do,” he said coldly. “And all will be revealed in Berlin.”
Tomas knew that brick wall was coming, but was no less frustrated for it.<
br />
“Can I bring my family?” he asked weakly.
Herr X bared his teeth in some twisted notion of a smile.
“Why, Doktor, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
It took Tomas only three minutes to drive home from the Silo. His serviced apartment - which he now owned - overlooked Poltava’s city square.
His wife Vanya constantly reminded him that he should be walking to and from work, and she was technically right. But sliding in behind the wheel of his Audi A1 gave Tomas a thrill he hadn’t yet grown tired of.
Whatever his other qualities, Herr X paid handsomely, much higher than most scientists could reasonably expect. For a boy from Eastern Ukraine, Tomas had done very well indeed, succeeding far beyond the expectations of his hometown friends and extended family. Why not enjoy his one and only extravagance while all this lasted?
Tomas guided the Audi into a secure car park beneath the apartment complex. Still reeling from his meeting with Herr X, he rode the elevator to the top floor.
Vanya was waiting for him in the kitchen. Fed, bathed and dressed, the kids were watching cartoons in the lounge room. Tomas wasn’t a religious man but every day he thanked his lucky stars he had such a capable, efficient wife.
More than that, Vanya Verdano was a strikingly beautiful brunette, an old-school Slavic beauty. She had it all - the high cheekbones, the flashing blue eyes, the generous figure. He still didn’t know why she had settled for a giddy, penniless scientist from Poltava. He was glad to be able to provide her with a measure of luxury in recent years - she deserved the best.
And then there were the most precious gifts of all - his children. Oskar, five, and Sabine, three, were the reasons he pushed himself through fourteen hour days in the lab. He reasoned that what he missed of their childhood now he would make up later on.
In the Ukraine it was more important that children have a roof, warmth, a strong mother and a good school. Only one in ten children in this region went on to build comfortable lives for themselves - he was determined to give his kids every chance to do just that.
The Lycan Society (The Flux Age Book 1) Page 7
