Children of the Miracle

by Daniel Weisbeck

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Tiny hands caressed Mercy’s hair. She tried to wake herself. The delicate fingers gently loosened her wind-blown knots as she drifted back into sleep.

  Mercy hung on an edge, trying to not to fall into the endless abyss beneath her. Losing her grip, she plunged back first into the dark, watching the fading blue sky. She tried hard to liberate a stifled scream, but only silence came out.

  Suddenly she was small, so small she could enter the High Chamber through a mouse hole. The stone floor cracked, slowed her. She ran, jumped, almost missed; they were leaving, the Five Leaders, they were walking away from the bench. ‘Wait! I’m here!’ she screamed in a voice so small it wouldn’t even echo.

  Cries, not hers. An infant was somewhere in her apartment. Why couldn’t she find it? An animal scurried across the hall, brief, not long enough to see. A guilty horror struck her: fondness and repulsion in equal measure. The cries continued. She followed the direction of the shadow-hugging creature. The clip, clip, clipping nails on a wood floor, moved one room ahead of her, always in a never-ending chase. ‘Please stop! I want to help. I can help!’

  The cries disappeared. A bright shaft of sunlight through the window burned her pocket, reminded her of a note she had forgotten she had. Paper unfolded, she read the words: YOU’RE IN DANGER.

  Mercy suddenly awoke and bolted upright, gulping air as if surfacing from underwater. Alive! I’m alive. Her first instinct was to reach for Hope, only to find the scabbed surface of dry blood over a small cut.

  Her surroundings slowly took shape. A million needles of pale light broke through the walls entirely made of a delicate patchwork of woven boughs, limbs, twigs and offshoots. The enclosure, curved from floor to ceiling, like the inside of an eggshell, was just big enough to hold a bed and a small table with one chair. Mercy was lying on a nest of straw and feathers. The sound of birds singing and hushed human voices were outside, intent on not being overheard.

  There was movement at the wicker door opposite her. Mercy looked rapidly around, searching for an escape. There was none. She pressed her back against the wall in defence, causing a bolt of pain to shoot through her shoulders. She screamed out in agony. The door quickly opened. Daylight flooded her cage as she sheltered her eyes.

  A tall silhouette of a man stooped through the entrance. The outline of wings arching over his shoulders called him out as a Chimera. Mercy’s eyes adjusted to the light, and his face came into focus. Her capture was the avian hybrid that had visited her in Sky Park.

  ‘What do you want?’ she cried out.

  The man raised a hand, gestured for her to be calm. ‘Doctor Mercy, you might be a little sore. I’ve regenerated the wounds in your shoulders. I’m sorry about that, but better the pain than dropping you. I hope you understand.’

  ‘Understand!’ she blurted out, near tears, the pain in her shoulders starting to break through an adrenaline numbness. ‘I don’t understand anything. What am I doing here, and why do you keep involving me in whatever this is?’

  ‘Allow me to start again. My name is Michael, and, well, I need your help.’ He was direct, humble.

  ‘You have a funny way of asking for it, kidnapping me against my will? Why should I help you?’ barked Mercy, finding her anger.

  ‘I’m sorry. But you’re heavily guarded, Doctor Mercy. Many government operatives are moving around you. Getting enough time with you required these extreme measures.’

  Mercy remained stubbornly silent.

  Michael was forced to continue: ‘Please understand, you are not in danger here, nor are you a captive. Once you’ve heard me out, I will gladly take you back.’

  Michael sat in the chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

  ‘The hybrids you know are bred to fit into society. To be labourers, scientists, teachers; to have families, even be leaders. But there are other hybrids – ones you don’t know about, like me.’

  Mercy sat forward, trying to find a more comfortable position and listened.

  ‘There is an entire city of hybrids above classification 10, and new hybrids with avian and reptilian DNA created as part of a covert government operation,’ revealed Michael.

  ‘Why breed new species in secret? I thought the government’s goal was diversification?’ Her questioning was intent on catching him out in a lie.

  ‘These new hybrids are bred with killer instincts – natural-born hunters who will fight to the death without guilt, remorse or question motive. That doesn’t work in broader society but makes for a great military,’ he said with contempt. ‘By expanding hybrids to any animal DNA and allowing unlimited physical attributes, and you get a full arsenal: ground, air and water.’

  A chill raced down Mercy’s spine, causing a painful shiver of her shoulders. She thought of her initial meeting with the Prime, and an understanding passed through her. ‘The Prime’s threat to protect hybrids at any cost. She was talking about the military.’

  ‘Yes,’ he confirmed. ‘The hybrid classification system is all about validating altruistic human characteristics, the parts of humanity that make humans feel good about themselves. Military hybrids exaggerate the sides of humans that are less admirable, even frightening: competition and aggression.

  ‘So, we are bred in secret. Soldiers kept in a guarded mountain facility, trained for a future war, hidden until we are needed.’

  ‘You seem human enough to me,’ challenged Mercy.

  ‘Some of us are born more empathetic. We are terminated if discovered. But some get through the system, intelligent enough to hide their compassion. I was one of the lucky ones, able to hide easily. Then I started seeing the clues in others, those who were questioning their purpose.

  ‘When I realised I wasn’t alone, I decided to help lead an escape. We’ve been on the move for almost three months. Hunters who’ve become the hunted.’

  ‘The young girl who’s been following me, an avian hybrid, is she with you?’

  Michael launched into a series of bird calls. The door swung open, and the yellow-beaked girl appeared, wide-eyed, returning Michael’s call with her trills.

  ‘This is Jillet,’ Michael introduced the child to Mercy.

  The girl waddled towards her on yellow-clawed feet. She held out her small human hand at the tip of her emerald wing.

  ‘Yes. This is the girl,’ replied Mercy, carefully accepting the child’s hand as if it might break. ‘I should thank her, actually; she may have saved my life, warning me of a bear attack in the forest the other day.’

  Michael whistled a message to the girl and pointed at Mercy. Her pink cheeks turned cherry red, a human reaction. Mercy looked fixedly into her eyes, tried to communicate a wordless thank you.

  Michael sang once more, pointed to the door, and the child took leave.

  ‘Is she your daughter?’

  Michael pinched his brow, puzzled at the question. ‘No. We are all sterilised.’

  ‘I’ve heard that before,’ Mercy uttered despondently under her breath.

  ‘Excuse me?’

  Mercy quickly changed the subject, ‘She doesn’t seem much of a killer to me?’

  ‘No. Jillet was a planned termination, not enough killer instinct. But they kept her alive in the lab. It happens sometimes. Hybrids kept as pets.’

  Mercy shifted uncomfortably; the idea of Chase and her baby kept as pets made her stomach turn.

  He continued, ‘I wouldn’t have known about her, but the night before we escaped, she found me. I have no idea how, and I couldn’t leave her behind.’

  ‘I still don’t know what you want from me?’

  ‘The mutation of FossilFlu: it’s out and spreading. We’ve lost a solider already.’

  Mercy’s eyes widened, and her mouth fell open. Images of mass death immediately came to mind. She had a sudden urge to tell the Five Leaders, warn them and
all the people she knew back home. Helplessness engulfed her. She had failed to save them.

  ‘I…I’m sorry, Michael, but I don’t have a cure.’

  ‘What was on the chip, Doctor Mercy?’

  ‘Was that you!’ she exclaimed, all the pieces of the puzzle coming together.

  ‘Yes. It was me in the hallway. So, what did you find?’ His tone was urgent, commanding.

  Mercy turned her eyes to the ground, pensive. She considered her options. Instinctively she believed Michael. Or maybe she just wanted to believe in him, to have an ally in the crazy world that was unfolding around her. Either way, she confessed. ‘The mutation is man-made,’ she blurted out, feeling relief.

  ‘I knew it!’ Michael jumped to his feet, thumping his fist on the table.

  ‘Wait,’ Mercy found her own feet, feeling more confident. ‘How did you get that report? It’s highly classified.’

  ‘You’ll know soon enough, Doctor Mercy. For now, I need your help. We need your help to stop the mutation spreading. Can you trust me?’

  Mercy reflected on his request, and all that might go along with it. She had already become a spy in a foreign country, pregnant with a half-man, half-dog hybrid, and now she was about to make a covenant with fugitives. Shaking her head, she wondered out loud, ‘I don’t know…’

  The thatched door suddenly swung open. A sinewy winged woman entered. Snow-white feathers lay flat on her forehead, running over her scalp and down her neck. A shrill hawk’s cry penetrated the room as she spoke. The quills lining her brow pricked up in concern. Something was wrong. Michael replied to her with an equally air-rending screech. The woman retreated as quickly as she had entered, having taken direction.

  ‘We have to go,’ ordered Michael.

  ‘I need to get a hold of Doctor Chase,’ cried Mercy.

  ‘Not now, there isn’t enough time. We have to go,’ Michael repeated with urgency.

  There was the sound of piercing bird calls and furious wing flapping from outside.

  ‘Follow me,’ he directed and ran out the door.

  Outside, the air was fresh. The shock of light momentarily blinded Mercy. Her first instinct was to look down, to see where to take her next step, which elicited a terrified scream as she clung to the walls. Trembling, she realised the nest was on a branch at least five stories high underneath a dense forest canopy. A rainfall of leaves landed on her head as avian hybrids darted left and right, busily tearing the small treetop village apart. Vertigo forcibly took hold of her, and her knees went weak.

  Snap, whoosh, crack! A half-man, half-scorpion, ran along the labyrinth of branches, slicing the vines holding the hanging nests with his razor-tipped tail. Nests fell all around her, taking branches with them, crashing into broken heaps on the forest floor.

  Mercy gasped as a spotted leopard with a human face, bounced past her, displaying all the agility and speed of a wild cat.

  A black bear suddenly dangled in front of Mercy giving her a start, his wrists held over his head by two avian men on a slow descent.

  ‘Careful!’ the bear barked upward as he swung quickly sideways to avoid colliding with a falling nest.

  ‘Bird-brains,’ he mumbled under his breath.

  Splat. A white liquid fell on his head.

  ‘What the…?’ he growled, trying to shake a fist.

  Hoots and caws came from a group of snickering bird hybrids overhead.

  Michael swooped in on stretched wings.

  ‘Be quick, people. Stay orderly and let’s get moving.’ He spoke directly to the bear hovering in the air: ‘Amadeus, we’re going north, to the caves. Let’s gather everyone below.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ the bear answered, trying but unable to pull his hand to a full salute.

  Mercy, still clinging to the doorway, watched one by one as the nests around her plummeted down, cracking and snapping along the way. She nervously anticipated her descent.

  The light disappeared behind Michael’s ten-foot wingspan as he landed in front of her. ‘May I?’ He held out a gentlemanly hand.

  Mercy wanted down, and any offer was a good one. She released one hand first, grabbing his with an iron grip, then slowly released the second. He lifted her into his arms, and, with a powerful thrust of his wings, they rose into the air. Mercy grabbed his neck almost too firmly. They floated to the forest floor effortlessly.

  On the ground, littered with the debris of the treetop campsite, thirty hybrids assembled into an orderly semi-circle around Michael.

  ‘The government has intensified the search party for Doctor Mercy,’ Michael quickly explained to eager and waiting faces. ‘We have to move. We’ll be heading back to the caves by the base.’ He paused, knowing that his next words would cause upset. ‘There is more. I…we,’ he glanced over to Mercy, ‘believe the virus mutation is engineered.’

  Audible gasps came from the small gathering.

  ‘Why would anyone want to do that? It will kill everyone, not just hybrids,’ questioned Amadeus.

  ‘They can do it because the people who created it have the cure,’ declared Michael resolutely.

  Mercy’s eyebrows went up. Is he crazy? She suddenly remembered she didn’t know Michael at all. What if he was delusional?

  Michael continued, his tone defiant, ‘So, we’re going back in. To get the cure and release it for everyone.’

  A reptilian woman with scales for skin and large gold eyes spoke: ‘Thiss iss too dangerous. They are looking for uss already.’ Her slim elongated tongue looped down and up over her head, tasting the air.

  ‘Exactly. That’s why nobody will be expecting us in the caves, so close,’ Michael argued.

  Nods of agreement came from some, and heads shook in disbelief from others.

  ‘This is what we are trained to do. And I won’t sit back waiting to get sick or caught,’ Michael reasoned.

  ‘What do we do when we get to the caves?’ asked a wolf-solider, his ice-blue eyes wide and piercing through a mane of silver fur.

  ‘It’s a SeeSaw exercise. We’ll be going in and out. Low key. You know the drill.’ Michael shifted his voice, becoming more sympathetic. ‘I know I’m asking a lot. Anyone that wants to stay back can.’

  ‘I’m in!’ Amadeus called out. ‘We followed you out of the base, and it was the right thing to do. I’ll follow you back in. For Tommy!’

  One by one, the fugitives got behind the rallying cry. ‘For Tommy!’

  The corners of Michael’s mouth curled upward as he nodded. A proud look passed over his face. ‘Right, we have a plan then. Air troops will provide cloaking while we move on foot,’ he ordered and turned to address a mole-man. ‘Manny, scout ahead from below. We’re backtracking so you can use the tunnel system already in place.’

  The mole-man nodded, his tiny front teeth feverishly bouncing on his bottom lip.

  ‘Athena,’ he addressed the white-feathered woman who brought the warning. ‘You’ll scout ahead by air. Don’t get too far; we need to stay close.’

  The avian woman trilled and flew up and away, heading north.

  ‘Let’s get going,’ Michael commanded.

  Lasers ignited from small devices attached to six avians, connecting one flying soldier to the next, like a strung necklace. At the centre of the glowing outline, a dark cloud formed, casting everyone under its protective cloak.

  The band of fugitives and Mercy started the long march north.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The debriefing seemed more of an interrogation. Chase expected all the Prime’s people to be on the case, a top priority, chasing the abduction of their first foreign visitor in living times. But things were relatively quiet considering.

  A single search party was launched immediately on Joan’s request, as she promised. But that was the extent of the international crisis. When the Prime herself joined the debrief, Cha
se demanded to know why Mercy’s disappearance wasn’t being treated as a higher priority.

  ‘Rest assured, Doctor Chase, we have our best on it. The entire country is under surveillance. They can’t hide for long,’ the Prime answered with a note of irritation in her voice.

  A profound moment of silence sat between them. The Prime stared at Chase as if she was trying to read his mind – to catch him in a lie before he spoke it. Chase held her glare, unmoved, confident he had nothing to hide.

  ‘I believe,’ continued the Prime stitching her brow quizzically, ‘there are protocols around live testing of viral samples. Correct?’

  Chase sat back in his chair, looking caught. He knew where her question was leading. ‘Yes, several,’ he answered.

  ‘What was Doctor Mercy looking for that was so urgent she was allowed to bypass every single prerequisite for live testing?’

  Chase let out a long sigh and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Honestly, I don’t know. And I should. But I had nothing to do with her disappearance, and I trust Mercy. She’s the victim here.’ His tone humble and imploring.

  ‘You trust her because you slept with her?’ the Prime asked, pinning him in a corner.

  Chase shot Joan a scowling look before answering the Prime. ‘I trust her because she has spent her entire life trying to find a cure for this disease. Because she has shared all of her research openly, without hesitation. And yes, because I know her. I know she would only ever do the right thing.’

  The Prime glared at Chase with one last hard stare and turned to Joan. ‘Keep him under observation.’

  The Prime left the room. Chase let his forehead fall into his hands in exasperation.

  ‘Please, Chase, don’t try to go out and find her or interfere with the search,’ Joan implored in a consoling voice. ‘Let us do our job. I will keep you updated as soon as we learn anything. The Prime wants containment and, Chase, listen to me,’ she continued waiting for him to lift his head towards her. ‘You’re also under strict surveillance, in the event Mercy contacts you.’