The Rise of Io

by Wesley Chu

  As was their routine now, he escorted her home and waited outside until she was asleep, and then Io opened the door and let him in. They got to work trying to uncover what the Genjix were building in this region.

  “He wasn’t armed, Wyatt. We sent him out with hardly any protection.” Hamilton shook his head. “Did Bijan die quick at least?”

  “We don’t know. The feed cut off during the struggle,” Wyatt replied. “It wouldn’t have made a difference. A field scout’s defense is not weapons and armor. The real question is, how was he found out? Was it bad luck? Was Bijan being sloppy?”

  “Did he find anything?” Io asked quietly.

  “Not a lot, but something.” Wyatt looked off-screen. “It’s a good thing Emily discovered this site. We would not have known of its existence otherwise. The Genjix are warping all satellite surveillance within a fifteen kilometer radius of the site with some sort of cloaking technology. Bijan had just started mapping out the blueprint of the site when he was caught.”

  “What happens next?” Hamilton asked.

  “We need better intel,” said Wyatt. “Can you two finish the work?”

  Hamilton shook his head. Io nodded.

  Wyatt looked confused. “Which is it?”

  “I think the girl is ready,” Io said. “She knows the area. Let her scout the site.”

  “The girl is absolutely not ready,” Hamilton insisted. “Send someone else. A full recon team this time. Ella can be their local contact. She knows the area well and can find the supplies they need.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” said Wyatt. “This region is becoming a hot issue in Command, and is escalating. For now, be careful, lay low.

  “One more thing.” The analyst stopped speaking as if he were trying to formulate the right words. Io could see the skin around his eyes tighten as he drummed his fingers on the desk. “I don’t want to alarm you, but diplomatic channels indicate that India is going to fall to the Genjix soon.”

  Hamilton frowned. “How soon?”

  “Probably a few months. Within the year. We do not have any operatives in their government, and the ruling party is leaning staunchly Genjix. We may need to pull you out at a moment’s notice. Be ready.”

  After the screen went blank, Hamilton turned to her. “We’re in a bad spot. We should get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “You are free to cut and run,” Io snapped. “I am staying. You heard Wyatt. Command is escalating our findings here. For once, I am leading the charge on something big. I intend to stay and see it through.”

  Her auxiliary stiffened, and then finally sighed. He dug into his pack and brought out the brown paper bag that Manish had given him. “Here. At least take this.”

  Io took the crumpled bag and looked inside: a rusty handgun and four magazines. She took out the handgun, checked the sights, and then loaded one of the magazines. It was smaller than the military issues the agents used and looked to be about fifty years old. She frowned. “Russian made. Where did you get this?”

  “From Manish. His basement is full of ancient weaponry from the many wars India fought with Pakistan. It’s all about that old. This one here is one of the smaller ones.”

  “Ella does not know how to shoot.”

  Hamilton shrugged. “After what happened to Bijan, I didn’t want the girl to not have any protection, and she can’t knife her way through everything. I figure you can walk her through the basics. I’ll talk to the coach about giving her formal training so she doesn’t shoot her foot off. That is, unless you’re concerned enough about her safety to pull her out of here for some real training.”

  “No.”

  Hamilton stood up, resigned. “So be it. I had better be off. I’ll let you know what Command decides to do with the recon team. In the meanwhile, I’m going to start planning an extraction in case things go south. If what Wyatt says is true, and this is about to become Genjix country, we should have an exit strategy in place.”

  Io nodded and watched her auxiliary leave Ella’s home. He was saying and doing all the right things, being loyal. However, Io had no doubt whatsoever that if she had entered the Brit instead of Ella, Hamilton would have fled India weeks ago. Io would be halfway around the world by now, most likely back in the United Kingdom.

  That was one thing Io could not allow.

  Eighteen

  Playing Safe House

  Our ill-fated ship was injured by an asteroid and, as it was dying, detected an atmosphere that could support Quasing life. It set course for Earth and broke into fragments once it struck the planet’s atmosphere. The destruction caused by our ship’s impact ushered in a new Ice Age.

  Quasing were scattered all over the planet. Without our Eternal Sea, the survivors of the crash were suddenly alone, unable to communicate and be one yet many with each other. What little atmosphere the ship had detected on Earth was not an expansive sea, but the many millions of living creatures that lived on its surface. We discovered that by entering the living creatures of this planet, we could survive.

  * * *

  This time around, Ella received word about her new guests a week before they were scheduled to arrive. For the first time since she moved in, Ella had her home cleaned. Not just an hour picking trash off the floor and putting stuff away, but really cleaned with a dust rag and mop and scented water.

  She was now finally making a steady enough wage from the Prophus that she didn’t have to go out on the streets every day. At first, she thought she would get bored with a regular routine, but soon saw the benefit of not having to hustle to eat, even if it did come with strings attached.

  I am a string?

  “With an anchor attached to the end.”

  One of the small advantages of having this regular income was she was able to plan ahead and splurge a little of her earnings. In this case, after some gentle nudging from Io, she capitulated and hired two of Wiry Madras’s younger girls to help clean her home from top to bottom. The place was such a dump she needed help.

  When Ella was a little girl, she lived in Vadsar Air Base, where the living quarters were so small, she wasn’t allowed to have more than a duffel bag of belongings. Later on, when she was homeless, cleanliness wasn’t a thing. If your spot was too clean, people took it. If it got too dirty, you moved on.

  Even after she obtained her own container, she still lived as if she were homeless. Living on the streets was a harsh teacher and a cruel master. Once you learned its lessons, it was difficult to break old habits. Today, Ella was trying to unlearn them by getting on all fours and scrubbing the floors.

  “This sucks,” Ella grumbled. “I should just move.”

  You do live in a container. Have you considered just tilting it and have everything slide out?

  “That’s not possible. These containers are all welded together.”

  I was joking.

  Ella stopped in mid-brush. “You aliens can joke?”

  We probably have a better sense of humor than you do.

  “I don’t know about that. I’m pretty funny.”

  If you say so.

  Ella spent the rest of the week stockpiling supplies for the team. Hamilton had provided her a list of things to acquire in preparation for their arrival. Most of it was in the form of food, blankets, sleeping bags, water, and various low-tech electronics. Her job was to assist the team in any way and serve as their local runner if necessary.

  To be honest, Ella was excited about this job. Between this and her training, she felt like somebody. She had a sense of purpose and wasn’t just another vagrant scrounging a meager living on the streets.

  For the first time in memory, she cared about the little details about herself that she had never considered before. She cared about how she looked and smelled, how clean her home was. She wanted these other Prophus – her peers now – to respect her.

  On the day the team was scheduled to arrive, she paid for a solo tub at Wiry Madras, had her hair cut and eyebrows trimmed, and did a full
load of laundry for fresh clothes. She even prepared snacks in case they were hungry.

  Now you want to open a hotel?

  “I just want to do things right this time.”

  Ella, what happened to Bijan was not your fault.

  Ella’s lower lip quivered. Io had told her the news about the field scout’s fate earlier that morning. She had assumed that was what happened, but it still broke her a little inside when she heard it. She scoffed. “Of course it wasn’t, you stupid alien. I wasn’t there. Why would you even think that? That was a dumb thing to say.” She tossed the rag in her hand across the room and dropped onto her freshly de-lumped couch. She crossed her arms and sulked.

  I am sorry for saying that. It was not considerate of me. Of course it is not your fault.

  “Maybe… Maybe if I was with him, he’d have been all right. I could have found him a better hiding spot or served as a lookout.” Her hand drifted to the shank strapped to her back. “Maybe I could have helped him fight them off.”

  All you would have done is ended up dead like him.

  Ella’s eyes watered. She wiped her face with her arm before tears and snot could dribble onto the clean sheet she had just laid over the couch. Picking white cloth was probably a stupid idea. She could already see traces of rust and brown at the edges near the ground. No wonder it was the cheapest Lapi the merchant was offering.

  I told you to pay a little extra for the brown wool.

  “What? No, you didn’t. You told me to get the white one to brighten up the place.”

  All right. Perhaps it was not the best choice. Anyway, the team is scheduled to arrive in the middle of the night. You should get some sleep in case you have to wait up for them.

  That probably was a sound idea, but Ella wasn’t ready to call her work done. She got up and paced the room, checking her shelves, now stocked with more food than she ever had here before. Her eyes rested on the generator in the corner.

  “There are five on the recon team, right?”

  On average only two to three in the room at any one time.

  “This generator isn’t going to cut it. It can barely keep all my stuff powered, let alone handle whatever stuff these secret agent guys are going to bring in.” She stood up. “I’m going to stop by Chuy’s and get a spare generator and some battery packs.”

  It is getting dark. Wait until tomorrow. There is no rush.

  Ella looked through one of the peep holes. It was approaching no man’s time. She had maybe an hour, possibly two, before the streets got dangerous. The best thing to do would be to just wait until morning. No, Chuy always offered the best deals at the end of the day, right before he closed shop, eager to get home to his family. Ella headed for the door.

  Wait. If you insist on going outside, take some protection.

  Ella touched her shank in its scabbard. “I’m never without it.”

  I mean real protection.

  “You mean all the training I’ve been doing with Manish has been for fun?”

  Look inside the hidden compartment in your bedroom.

  Ella did as she was told and frowned, after prying back the hidden plate, at a brown paper bag next to her wad of Euros and DVD collection of Raghu Dixit Project, Swarathma, and Duran Duran. She picked up the heavy bag and looked inside. She made a face and waved the bag violently in the air. “What is this? Why is it here?”

  You put it there.

  “Like hell I did. There are no guns in Crate Town.”

  A sequence played in Ella’s head. She saw Hamilton pulling the brown bag out of his pack and placing it on the table. He patted the bag twice with his hands and said something she couldn’t quite make out. Hamilton looked down at her and then headed for the front door. There was another flash and she saw her tiny brown hands carrying the bag and hiding it in her spot. When did this happen?

  She distinctly remembered thinking that there was no way she was letting him in and shutting the door in his face. In fact, she recalled thinking about how she had left her laundry in the living room and how she’d rather die than let anyone see that. Yet, that image of him standing in her living room felt pretty real. Did she actually let him inside? She began to doubt herself.

  You mean this?

  Another scene flashed into her head, which seemed to pick up right after the previous one. In it, Ella followed Hamilton to the door. He stepped outside and then turned around to face her. The entire vision flickered, and then Ella slammed the door in his face. She turned toward the room. “Weirdo.”

  Ella’s mouth dropped. “That’s not how I remember it.”

  You have had long, stressful and tiring days. You sometimes forget details. It is normal.

  “Like gods it is,” she muttered. Or was it? “Oof, don’t ever do that again, alien.”

  She had to sit down to clear her head. Those recent scenes Io had projected were longer than usual and it gave her a ringing headache, as if someone had placed a cowbell next to her ear and was banging it incessantly.

  Apologies. Long sequences stress a host’s brain. A conscious human can only endure these scenes for seconds at a time. That is why we tend to only flash snippets of memories.

  “I still don’t remember that happening. I would have remembered.” If there was one rule that most residents of Crate Town believed in and enforced, it was that no guns were allowed, and this had nothing to do with curbing violence or crime. Any time a fool was seen packing in Crate Town, it was almost guaranteed to be an outsider. Not even the uncles in the slum were packing.

  Regardless, I want you to take it with you when you leave the house, especially at this hour. Remember those gangsters?

  For good measure, Io flashed an image of the three gangsters and those little asshole Terrible Gandhis. It still didn’t convince her. She dropped the brown bag back in the hiding spot and began to put the plate back in place. “Forget it. It’s not going to happen. I’m not carrying this.”

  Ella, for once, listen to me. This is for my protection as much as it is for yours. I insist you carry this whenever we leave the house.

  “Oh fine, you big baby, happy?” With a snarl, Ella grabbed the bag and threw it into her backpack. She felt immediately weighed down by it.

  Yes, although I would prefer you use the holster and strap it to your belt for quicker access. One thing at a time.

  “I don’t even know how to use the stupid thing.”

  It is already loaded with the safety on, and it is a low enough caliber so even someone like you should have no problem using it. Click the safety and fire. That is all. I will give you pointers along the way. You probably will not need it this time, but I want you to start getting used to carrying it.

  That was the last thing Ella wanted to hear. For the next thirty minutes, Io droned on about gun use, safety, and technique. All of it went right over Ella’s head. Without actually holding the gun in her hand, she had no idea what the Quasing was talking about. It didn’t help that Ella was also busy navigating the darkening streets of Crate Town. Pretty soon, Ella just tuned the alien out.

  You are not listening to me.

  “Damn right. Like you said, the streets aren’t safe at night. I need to pay more attention to what’s going on than to you.”

  Listen, you silly human, I am a being who was on this planet when dinosaurs roamed the Earth. I am more intelligent and wiser than you will ever be. When I speak, you listen, understand?

  Ella bit her lip. More stupid talk from the snobby Quasing. She was about to keep arguing when she almost missed an important turn and realized it was probably a waste of time. Until she was on equal footing with this overbearing alien, Io was going to keep bossing her around. Unless… Ella suddenly had an idea. She made a sharp turn and ran down a side street.

  Wait, where are you going? Chuy’s is the next block over.

  A few seconds later, before Io could stop her, Ella sprinted into Fab’s Art Gallery. “Hey Little Fab, you still open?”

  The youngest Fab was
with a customer inspecting a crate of tablets. He looked up. “Twenty-four hour service, cat. What’s up?”

  Ella took the brown bag out of her backpack and flourished the handgun. Both men jumped backward, arms raised. Off to the side, the Fabs’ muscle, their great aunt Nitu, shifted to Ella’s left. Ella slapped the handgun on the table with a heavy thunk. She upended the contents of the bag. “How much for the gun and all these bullet holder things?”

  This is Prophus property. You are not allowed to sell this.

  “Where did you come by that?” Little Fab asked.

  “How much?”

  Stop!

  Little Fab scratched his chin full of stubble. “I don’t know what you want me to do with this thing. There’s no market for guns here in Crate Town. I guess if you just want to get rid of it, I can give you three thousand–”

  “Deal.”

  Io made a sort of strangled noise in Ella’s head. A few minutes later, she walked out of Fab’s Art Gallery three thousand rupees richer. She skipped along the street whistling to herself. She knew Little Fab had ripped her off, yet again, but this time she didn’t care. She had something more important to win from that exchange.

  How dare you?

  She stopped walking and sat down on the ground in the middle of the road. This probably wasn’t the right time, and it was a little childish, but she had to draw the line somewhere. It was time the two of them had a heart-to-heart talk about their relationship. “Do you really want to force me to do something, alien? Do you want to see how far I’ll dare?”

  We will discuss this later. Now that you’ve sold the gun, it is best we finish your errand as quickly as possible.

  Night had fallen upon Crate Town and the crowds in the streets had thinned to a trickle. That was when things became dangerous. Ella sprinted the rest of the way to Chuy’s, rented a generator and three spare battery packs, and hurried home. Along the way, with the newly-earned money from her one and only time as an arms dealer, she also bought a bag of sweets.