by Wesley Chu
Ella got home shortly before eleven and checked for any intruders. Once she was sure the coast was clear, she plugged in the spare battery packs, tossed some sweets to Burglar Alarm, and made herself comfortable as she waited for her five guests to arrive.
Nineteen
Recon Team
I was one of the very last to leave and explore this planet. The piece of the ship I was in – one of the largest – had crashed in what is now known as the Yucatán Peninsula. I labored for eons with the few thousand survivors with me, trying to establish a communication link back to Quasar. Ultimately, there was too little of the Eternal Sea left for us to properly form the necessary array for the Receiver to contact the home world. However, I worked until the very last moment, until all hope was lost.
* * *
Captain Kim Kim Lee hated only two things in his life. After two grueling tours on the Finnish front, one in Mongolia, and three in Siberia during the Alien World War, he had experienced the worst of humanity, seen some truly vile things, and had had to perform some awful acts himself. Still, through all that death, destruction and evil, Lee held very little hate in his heart. He loved everyone, even the people he had to kill in combat. Especially the ones he had to kill in combat. That was his religion, as well as his method of coping with the otherwise cruel world.
There were two exceptions. The first was his father.
If anyone asked about his worst moments in life, he always went back to the time of his birth when his alcoholic father, drunk, used three surnames for his name. And then, after cursing him with a nonsensical name, disappeared from his life forever. God, Lee hated that man and painted his old man’s face on the enemy every time he went to battle.
“Sorry, K2,” Chuang, his second in command and current driver’s side passenger, said as he twisted the knobs. “I think the air conditioning is busted. Want me to request a refund from the rental office?”
That was the second thing Lee hated more than anything in the world. There was a very specific and intentional reason why all the tours he had fought in all those years were north of forty degrees north latitude; Lee hated hot weather, and especially hated humidity. Hated it with a burning passion, right up there with how much he hated his old man.
Unfortunately, this was an emergency mission and his team was the only qualified recon group in the region available on short notice. So as fate would have it, here they were, here in hot-as-hell India, with the air conditioning busted. This was his worst nightmare.
“You’re damn right I want you to,” Lee growled, his hands gripping the steering wheel tightly.
No matter what he did, he couldn’t get comfortable. Beads of sweat slithered down his cheek and dribbled off his chin. His lower back squelched from wetness anytime he shifted. His pants stuck to his legs as if he were wearing thermals. It was the one of the most disgusting feelings he had ever had to endure.
Chuang dabbed her forehead and fanned herself with a folded-up newspaper. A smirk grew on her face. “Look on the bright side, we only have to put up with this for the next few weeks.”
Lee’s knuckles on the steering wheel turned white.
Higgins leaned in from the back seat and patted both of them on the shoulders. He inhaled deeply through his nose and made an exaggerated contented sigh. “Ah, the smells, the sweats. It is making me homesick. Welcome to my world.”
The rest of the recon team was very familiar with Lee’s quirks. Higgins was the only one who dared openly complain about how their team always operated in the tundra. Lee allowed the Jamaican to mouth off and gave him a standing offer to transfer out of Lee’s unit whenever he wanted. The offer had stood for seven years now.
“At least we’re almost there,” Lee grumbled.
He turned off Highway 228 onto the 196 and began the final stretch toward this place known as Crate Town. Lee hadn’t told his people yet, but he had some concerns about the safe house as well. Or more like the lack of a safe house. The intel he got during the briefing sounded sketchy. All five of them were going to bunk with a new host who owned a shack in the slum? That hardly sounded promising.
“Who’s our contact again?” he asked, to no one in particular.
Navah piped up from the back of the van. “The host’s auxiliary, a Hamilton Breckenridge.”
“Breckenridge?” Chuang said. “Does he have a title? Lord Hamilton Breckenridge.”
“The third,” Higgins added. “Defender of the uptight pants.”
Thomas, their sniper, sniffed. “Auxiliaries. Glorified personal assistants with heads way too big for their rank.”
“I was asked to join the host auxiliaries,” said Navah.
“Why didn’t you?” asked Chuang.
“And miss out on all the fun freezing my ass off holed up in some ditch with you guys? Never.”
“You should have taken it,” Lee said softly. “It’s a good step up. Can’t hang out with us bums forever.”
“Watch me, K2.”
“Turn here.” Chuang pointed at an intersection leading to a cluster of warehouses. “Our contact is meeting us in the one marked C3.”
Lee pulled the van into the shadow of one of the large buildings. It was past midnight, but the sky was clear and the moon lit up the ground like a giant theater stage spotlight. Lee sent Thomas out first while the rest of his team took position near the van.
The sniper reported ten minutes later. “All clear. Found Warehouse C3. Two hundred meters west. Water on two sides. Only road from the east. There’s something that looks like a junkyard just to the south.”
“Let’s go.”
“What is this place?” Thomas asked.
“Former drydock from the war converted to grain storage facilities,” Navah said.
Lee led his team west on foot, walking along the south side of the street. Even though the odds of being seen were low, they hugged the shadows and moved at a measured and quiet pace. Thomas joined them halfway to C3. Lee held a fist up and took a moment to listen to the background noise.
Nothing. He took a deep, labored breath.
“Like soup, eh?” Higgins grinned. “Just like home.”
“Hell is a jungle,” Lee replied.
“Then I must be the devil, yeah?”
The recon team reached Warehouse C3, and after a few seconds of walking the perimeter, found the unlocked west door, as instructed. The door creaked open and they filed inside one by one. Moonlight shone through a row of windows near the ceiling of the cavernous room, creating shadows and depth in the otherwise completely dark space.
A large object hovered in the air in the center of the room. It took the shape of a fishing boat as they neared. One of the shadows on the boat moved. Lee threw a fist into the air and his team scattered behind cover.
The shadow spoke in clear Korean. “Be not afraid of growing slowly.”
“Be afraid only of standing still.” Lee butchered his Mandarin, but it was passable for the job. “Well met, Auxiliary Breckenridge?”
The shadow approached the bow. “Captain Kim Kim Lee, welcome to Surat.”
Lee signaled for the others to stand down. Funny, Hamilton Breckenridge didn’t have much of an accent. In fact, he sounded almost…
The lights to Warehouse C3 turned on, revealing a tall Indian in a sharp suit standing on the boat. Before Lee could bark out a warning, armed men flooded into the room. Before his team could react, Lee was faced with two dozen muzzles pointing at them.
“K2?” Chuang asked. She and Navah stood back to back as they swung their rifles back and forth. They were completely surrounded.
“Drop your weapons, Prophus, and you’ll live,” the Indian man said.
Lee assessed the situation. His team was outnumbered and clustered together, and the enemy held the higher ground. There were no options here.
“Stand down,” he barked. Lee knelt down and put the rifle on the ground, and then he stood with his hands up. One by one, his team followed his lead.
“All right,” Lee said. “We’re surrendering. Honor your word and guarantee the safety of my soldiers.”
The Indian man watched in silence as his soldiers disarmed the team and cuffed them. His gaze swept across each of them one by one. Finally, he limply waved a finger at Navah.
“Save the captain and that one for interrogation. Kill the rest.”
“Yes, Minister,” one of the soldiers barked, and then they closed in.
* * *
The hard banging on the front door reverberated across the walls of Ella’s entire container. She woke with a start and nearly fell off the couch. She blinked away the sleep as the ringing thundered in her ears.
Ella sat up and felt a tweak in her back, either from one of her many workout bruises or from this uncomfortable couch. She must have dozed off waiting for the recon team. This thing made for an awful bed. It almost made her feel bad that she was making others sleep on it. She checked the time: eight in the morning.
Their flight was probably just delayed, or perhaps traffic was heavy coming down from Ahmadabad.
“In the middle of the night?”
Well, what did she know? Ella didn’t have a car. In fact, she couldn’t even drive. The incessant banging continued, and was soon joined by Burglar Alarm’s barking. Ella pawed the shank off the coffee table and crept to the front door. She held the shank near the gap with one hand and grabbed the handle with the other. “Who is it? What do you want?”
“It’s Hamilton.”
Ella yanked the door open. “About time you got here. And why were you banging so hard? You scared the crap…” She peered behind him. “Where’s everybody else?”
He stormed past her. “They never came. I waited at the train station until six.”
Was their flight delayed?
Ella relayed Io’s question.
Hamilton shook his head. “Flight landed on time. I called the rental company. They picked up the van at eleven.”
“They’re only a few hours late,” said Ella. “Maybe they stopped for breakfast somewhere or were sidetracked with shopping or…” Her words trailed off when Hamilton gave her a look as if she was talking nonsense. “Did the van have GPS? Is there a way to figure out where they are?”
The look he gave her grew worse. “They’re a recon team.”
“So?”
“So of course not. What kind of deep field recon team allows a tag hanging in the air so someone can follow their trail? But yes, the rental van had a GPS, and I’m pretty sure that’s the first thing they disabled when they got in the damn vehicle.”
Hamilton collapsed onto Ella’s sofa, covered his face, and then ran his hands through his hair. Ella frowned at how familiar he seemed with her place, yet she still could not remember any time when he had come inside. For the life of her, she couldn’t recall that scene Io had shown her earlier.
“Io, you’re screwing with my head somehow. I’m not stupid.”
I do not know what you are.
“Come clean with me. I know something’s up. If you want our relationship to work, we have to be honest with each other.”
Fine. I admit I may have some control over your body while you are unconscious. I have had to use it intermittently to do some work, and yes, that included having Hamilton in here.
“You lying bodysnatching bastard!”
It was with good cause. I did not want to overwhelm you. Your hands are full as it is with your training. It is for the best.
“I know what’s best for me, not anyone else! You don’t get to lie to me.”
Hamilton stood up abruptly. “This is the second time it’s happened. Something is wrong; possibly a leak. We should abort.” He looked over at her. “For your and Io’s safety, we should leave India as soon as possible.”
“Like hell I’m leaving home,” she snapped. “Wait, a leak?”
Ella, listen to me carefully. I know you and I have important things to hammer out, but we have a more pressing issue. Hamilton has been trying to get us to leave your home now for weeks. It makes me wonder; is there something here he does not want us to find out? He says there is a leak; maybe it is him.
The shank materialized in Ella’s hand again. She thought about kind old Bijan and those people who were supposed to be staying here at her place. Was he responsible for their disappearance?
Put the shank down, Ella. Do not raise any suspicion. We have no proof, and even if we do, this is not the time. Act normal, calm him down, and we will plan our next course of action.
Io was probably right. For once. Ella placed the shank on the table and grabbed a cup. She filled it with water and brought it over to Hamilton. The Brit, sweating profusely, drank it.
“We should leave,” he repeated.
She shook her head. “We’re missing all these people now. Io says it’s our duty to find out what happened to them. Besides, this is my home. I’m not going anywhere. You’re free to run if you like.”
Hamilton stiffened and his lips quivered. He placed the cup on the coffee table so hard she thought he might have cracked it. “I am not abandoning my post, even if the host and the Quasing refuse to see the wisdom of it. However, I am reporting all of this to Command.”
I wonder who else he is reporting to. Do not trust him, Ella.
“I never liked him anyway.”
She waved Hamilton off. “You tell whoever you feel like telling. I’m not going.”
“Are you concerned that they’ll come for you here?”
She shrugged. “I’ve been here all along. I figure if the Genjix can find people who have been here only a few hours, they should already know where I am. Maybe the leak is somewhere else.”
That went right over Hamilton’s head. He got up and walked over to the door. “I’m going to check the hospitals in the area, just in case they got into an accident.” He paused. “You know, Command probably won’t send anyone else to help. Not after losing a scout and an entire team. We don’t have enough intel to have an actionable plan. We’re just wasting–”
“I’ll do it then,” she said. “Show me how to use the gear and I’ll get that information myself.”
Hamilton stared. She could see the disdain in his eyes. “You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” He went outside and slammed the door shut.
Ella listened to the echo of metal ringing until it disappeared, leaving her standing in her living room in silence with only her thoughts.
Do not worry. I will help you become a great spy.
Well, almost only her thoughts.
She sighed. “Fine, let’s get to work. By the way, how much of a raise am I getting if I do this?”
Twenty
Rut
I did not give up on making contact until all options had been exhausted, and even then, I kept trying. Part of me was confident that I had the knowledge and skill to pull off some sort of miracle. Part of me just wanted to be the savior of my people.
However, the miracle never came. There was too much damage, we had too little of the Eternal Sea with us, and too few of us to form the necessary components. One by one, as what little supply of our Eternal Sea dissipated over time, the other Quasing left to explore this world.
In the end, I was alone.
* * *
Ella spent an entire day wallowing in bed. After she kicked Hamilton out of her home, she crawled under the sheets and moped. She wasn’t sure what disturbed her more, learning that the recon team had disappeared, that Hamilton might be a double agent, or that Io had been messing with her body doing gods-know-what while she slept. It all left a bad taste in her mouth.
She stewed in her contempt of everyone, everything, and most of all, herself for caring. Every little thing that had gone wrong lately was starting to eat her up inside. Life was so much simpler when the only person Ella was involved with was herself, and she didn’t have to care about anyone or anything else.
Her day of moping turned into three days. Io tried to talk to her a few times, b
ut Ella didn’t feel like listening. What else was the alien hiding, and what was Io doing with Ella’s body while she was asleep? For all she knew, Io could be taking over her body and robbing banks or ninjaing around Crate Town at night murdering people or sucking blood out of children like some pasty-faced vampire. Actually, Ella wouldn’t mind that.
Now you are just being ridiculous. As I have said repeatedly, a Quasing’s control over an unconscious human is weak. I can barely walk your body upright, let alone kill someone.
Still, every night Ella tried something different to make sure she stayed in bed. The first night, she went to sleep hugging her bedpost, and was pleasantly surprised when she awoke in the same position. She did a careful walk around her living room, checking if anything was moved. Everything seemed untouched and in the right place until she checked the power generator. It was twenty percent lower than it should have been.
I had to update Command about the recon team. I had no choice.
That was when Ella began to take the more extreme measure of tying one arm to the bedpost with a rag. That seemed successful for the next couple days, although it could be that Io didn’t need to use her body for anything. She also wasn’t sure if the alien knew how to tie knots. Io said she didn’t have the agility to do so, but it wasn’t like Ella was going to believe what she said anyway.
On the morning of the fourth day of her self-imposed imprisonment, she received a visitor. Burglar Alarm began to bark, and then there was a furious banging at the door. Ella tried to ignore it, hoping whoever it was would go away, but the banging continued, as did the dog’s barking. When she still didn’t answer the door, the persistent jerk crawled onto her roof.
Footsteps clanged on the container and she saw an eye appear through one of the holes. The stomping continued for a few more minutes and then whoever it was began to bang on her front door again. Finally, after ten minutes of her walls ringing, Ella couldn’t stand it anymore. She leaped out of bed, grabbed her shank and stomped toward the front door.
