Kala looked down at the dark stuff sticking to her tunic, the blood coating her forearms. Her gaze shifted to the dead Xin at her feet. She looked as surprised as everyone else.
Maika spoke abruptly, breaking into the quiet. “How did you do that, Kala?”
Crisfer found himself wondering the same thing. No Unathi should be able to perform such an act of pure violence. If he hadn’t seen it himself, he would never have believed it.
Kala began to stammer something about how she didn’t know what had come over her.
“Not that,” Maika interrupted. “What I meant was, how could you lift that winch and smash that thing’s head with one blow? You’re still young. I wouldn’t even assume a full-grown adult could do what you did.”
“She’s older than she looks,” Crisfer pointed out. “It’s because of her height. I thought she was much younger when I first saw her.” But he knew it wasn’t a real explanation.
Kala didn’t answer. Her face was pale and she was sweating.
“She’s in shock,” Crisfer said. “Come on, sweetness, let’s get you cleaned up, and then you can lie down.”
He helped Kala to the bathing room. Kala pulled away from him and leaned against the sink, taking slow, deep breaths. “I... I didn’t think, I just did it,” she said, her voice faint.
“You don’t talk have to talk about it right now,” he said, turning on the shower. “Let’s get you out of those filthy things.”
Sunita’s going to be okay, Maika told them from the living room. Her sym will heal her with time and rest.
Okay, good, he answered.
“It was like everything was in slow motion,” Kala continued, ignoring the interruption. “I could hear my own heart beating. I could see Bren’s face in fine detail, only it wasn’t his face anymore, it was some monster’s. All the blood” She put her face in her hands. “Poor Bren.”
Crisfer pulled her hands away gently, forcing her eyes to meet his. “Listen to me, Kala. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“Did you see the way they all looked at me? Liet’s face was I’ve never seen that expression on her before. It was as if she thought I might be one of those things.”
Crisfer pulled her to him gently and hugged her, unmindful of the gunk on her clothes. “Hey. I don’t know how you were able to do that, sweetness, but I’m glad you did, okay? Think what would have happened if you hadn’t. None of us would still be alive right now. Not one.”
They stared at each other, and Kala slowly nodded.
In the days that followed, Kala wrestled with guilt and revulsion at what she had done. In her mind’s eye, the winch base crashed into the Xin’s head over and over, and each time, she felt a little sick. What am I? she asked herself. How could I do that?
Maika had made a good point; it was strange that Kala had been able to crush the Xin’s head so easily. Thinking back, she didn’t remember it being much of an effort. But if she was that strong, why hadn’t she noticed it before now? Maybe, she thought, it was only available in the heat of the moment, when she was in the grip of adrenaline.
Araka, I seem to be abnormally strong. Care to explain that?
As I’ve told you before, dear one, you have me and I’m exceptional. Therefore, you’re exceptional too. Perfectly logical, isn’t it?
And how come I’m capable of killing? Is that from you, too?
No answer.
Kala began to sense a new uneasiness in the others when she was around them. There was a sort of awe, but also a kind of invisible wall that had grown up, one that encompassed all the others but left her out on her own. Liet stopped coming to the bed the three bondmates had shared at night. She refused to discuss it with Kala, maintaining a cool distance.
The pain of losing Liet simply added to the burden Kala was already bearing. She woke up every morning filled with dread, and limped reluctantly through her days, feeling as though a knife tip had broken off inside her.
Crisfer was still there for her. He was trying his best not to show it, but she could tell that even he was affected by what had happened.
She got into bed and snuggled to his side, and he put his arm around her. They didn’t speak for a while and then Crisfer said, “They put poor old Bren on the floater and dumped him at sea. Now he’s food for the fish.”
“Which may soon be food for us,” she pointed out.
Crisfer made a face. “So we could all be eating Xin pretty soon—ugh!”
Kala smiled. He could always do that, make her laugh or smile, no matter how bad the situation. Guilt needled her again—she shook off a quick flash of the winch base crashing down—but she was determined not to let it get the better of her. She’d done what she had to do.
But her chest was tight. She missed Liet, and she missed Fawan terribly. It was like two big chunks of her had been ripped out, just the way a Xin might rip out her flesh. Somehow, though, by some miracle, she still had Crisfer’s love. She prayed she would never lose him.
Crisfer was her first male bondmate. He satisfied her in a different way than Liet had, but she missed the tender intimacy she and Liet had shared. Not that any of them had the time or inclination for that these days, she thought wryly.
Liet hadn’t been the same since the day they fled from the dining hall in Chandika. There was a coiled-up tension to her that had never been there before, and it was getting worse. She refused to go outside, wouldn’t leave Maika’s for any reason, not even to try to make the trip to Jaen’s shelter up north. She was pleasant toward Kala, but no more than that, and they hadn’t slept together since Kala killed the Xin.
Sometimes Crisfer spent a night with Liet. Unathi knew neither jealousy nor possessiveness, and Kala made no objection to this. He told her he had tried to talk sense into Liet, but had failed. There was a strained politeness between the three of them now, which bothered Kala more than she let on. But there was nothing she could do about it, except to make sure Liet knew she was welcome to come back.
It’s not surprising that we’ve changed, Kala said to her sym as she was drifting off to sleep. None of us have known anything besides peace, order and comfort, and suddenly we’re plunged into all this violence and chaos. It could reveal weaknesses we didn’t even know we had.
And in your case, strengths, Araka said.
Maybe physically, but I feel like my spirit is breaking apart.
It won’t. You’re stronger than you know.
Kala sighed. I hope so.
Chapter 6
Liet’s Journal
September 2616
Day 19 of X-Crisis
Kala doesn’t understand why I’m being so cold to her. I don’t understand it myself, not really. I don’t want to be this way, but I can’t help it. After what happened, I’m seeing her with new eyes.
I can’t stop watching it all play out in my mind—the winch thing crashing down, the blood and brains spraying everywhere. What kind of person can do that? I tell myself not to think about it, just be grateful that she saved us. But what is she? No Unathi could do that. Crisfer is stronger than me, emotionally if not physically, and I don’t think even he could do it. But somehow, she can.
When she killed that Xin, I realized I was seeing a whole new Kala. One I’ve never truly known at all.
A complete stranger.
Kala peered over the edge of the floater as it descended toward the flat roof of a disused storehouse, checking again with her drones to make sure the building was empty. They were in an unpopulated region about two hundred miles north of Chandika. The journey up the coast toward Jaen’s shelter in the Benaya region had been tedious in the slow, clumsy craft. Kala couldn’t wait to get out and stretch her legs.
They had been forced to leave Maika’s when the Xin had discovered them at last and began massing up outside the house. As they were hastily packing the floater, Kala had stumbled across a heavy mallet that someone left lying on the roof; one of the tools that had been used to build the craft. She picked it up and h
efted it. The dense metal head made it quite heavy—almost as heavy as the winch base. Avoiding anyone’s eyes who might be watching, she had packed it with her things on the floater. She’d had to use it to kill Xin a couple of times since then, while they were stopped to forage for food, as they were about to do now. The others seemed to be getting used to it.
They landed the floater ungracefully on the roof and jumped out, walking around to stretch their legs while they waited for the holographic conference to begin. Word had come that it was to be held today among all North American survivors, and Kala had notified the Hub that they wanted to attend.
Before long, a small group of holographic people shimmered into existence on the roof. One of them stepped forward. She was the oldest Unathi Kala had ever seen, probably close to a hundred. She stood straight and her body was firm, but her hair was completely gray.
Greetings, she said. I am Udara. This conference is being holocast by Dronet to all survivors in North America, with the intent of reviewing our collective situation and discussing possible solutions. I will begin by discussing the findings of a study on a Xin that was found trapped in a partly collapsed building in Asaya.
Kala listened, fascinated and repulsed at the same time. The mutants did have drones, but they were defunct. Unathi drones assumed they were merely particles in the air, and ignored them. This was why the Xin could neither sense Unathi nor communicate with them via their drones.
The gray, flaking patches of skin on a Xin was not skin at all, it was their drones, Udara explained. Some of them tended to cluster on the mutant’s skin; part of the drones’ pathological behavior pattern.
It had also come to light that, for some unknown reason, the Xin had an aversion to water. Remember this when you’re fortifying your shelters, Udara said.
The next speaker, Safia, was a light-haired woman in her thirties. Kala’s heart quickened. Safia was a symbiopathologist. Kala had read her work and spoken to her a couple of times over the Dronet. It was she who had inspired Kala to pursue the specialty.
Now her holographic face was grim. Greetings, everyone, she said. The numbers are in. We have lost over half of our global population, either by Xin attack or by mutation. We’re down to less than two billion, and the count is still falling.
Her holographic gaze fell on Kala, who had an uncomfortable suspicion that the woman knew what she was: the Xin-killer, probably the only one in the whole world. Kala’s face reddened. Someone must have talked about what had happened at Maika’s. You couldn’t keep anything off the Dronet.
Safia’s gaze moved on. I’m sure it’s not lost on any of you, she continued, that the mutation is an ongoing process. As far as we can determine, because of an inherent weakness in the DNA of our symbionts, there is a very strong likelihood that it will continue until there aren’t enough Unathi left for us to survive as a species.
Kala heart dropped, and her throat constricted. What was Safia saying? She felt Crisfer take her hand, and she gripped it tightly.
Voices rose on the Dronet, calling out from places all over the continent.
So there’s no way to stop this?
There’s no cure, no treatment, nothing?
We are doomed, then. We’re all going to die.
Jaen’s holo coalesced into existence on the roof, and Kala glanced uneasily at Liet. The girl’s eyes filled with tears when she saw her carefather. She started to reach toward him for a moment, then her hand fell back.
He smiled tenderly at Liet, nodding, and then spoke. Greetings, Safia. It has been established that the Xin don’t look after themselves very well, and they must be running out of easily obtainable food out there. Isn’t it possible they may all simply die off soon?
What you say is true, Jaen, Safia said. More to the point, they are very sick, and their mutant syms can do nothing to heal them. This will shorten their lifespan a great deal, and that might have saved us if the mutation process were not still going on. She heaved a deep sigh and shook her head. Even if every existing Xin died now, it wouldn’t save us. Eventually we will lose the rest of the population to the mutation anyway. The remaining Xin will quickly die out, and then we as a people will be no more. I’m sorry to have to bring such bad news.
Jaen’s face fell and with a last anguished glance at Liet, his holo disappeared.
The holo of a woman wearing long, flowing robes stepped forward from the group. Kala recognized Suri, a dayan, a spiritual leader. She had been a friend of Fawan’s.
So Suri got to live and not Fawan, Kala thought bitterly, and immediately felt ashamed of herself.
Everything that has a beginning has an end, Suri said in a firm, clear voice. Death is a part of life. Let us accept what we cannot change. Let us contemplate the Oneness together, that we may find peace.
Kala bowed her head and closed her eyes, but could find no peace. She was still trying to assimilate this dreadful news. Her mind kept shying away from the idea that everyone was going to die. How could that be? How could all of this happen? Why? Araka tried to soothe her, but he had no answers. Angry and frustrated, she shut him out, slamming a door on him inside her mind. Tears rolled down her face and she wiped them away, but more kept coming. She was so tired of crying.
She heard Liet sobbing and nudged Crisfer, and they put their arms around her, their three heads touching.
A minute of silence dragged by, and then a man’s voice said quietly, I would like to speak now, if I may.
Kala looked up. A new holo had joined the others and was patiently waiting for everyone’s attention. Maybe ten or twenty years older than Kala, the man was tall but slender for an Unathi, with freckled skin that was a bit lighter than the norm.
Greetings, he said. I am Wilm. I know you’re all thinking that there’s no hope. And you’re right, there is none—not for us personally. But there is still hope of saving our kind. Please listen to what I have to say.
Go ahead, we’re listening, voices said.
Thank you, Wilm said with a nod. My colleagues and I took samples of the X-variant from dead Xin and analyzed them, hoping to find a way to stop the mutations. We were not successful in this, but we did discover something else.
He gestured toward a set of large holographic models that had appeared in the air. Once released in 2079, SHAV quickly mutated into different strains. We believe we have samples of all of them, preserved in human remains from the twenty-first century. Using the old scientists’ Greek names for them, these are alpha—the original synthetic virus—beta, delta, gamma, and finally epsilon, the precursor of our own Ei symbionts. Each model glowed brightly as he mentioned it, then dimmed again.
If you look more closely at the epsilon virus—the ancestor of our symbionts—you’ll see that it has a fundamental flaw in its DNA there. The epsilon model grew larger and its outer casing became transparent; within it, one virion, or virus cell, grew larger, overlapping and blotting out the structure of the virus itself. Within the cell, a section of linear DNA emerged, and finally, within one of the DNA strands, a small segment of genes enlarged and began to glow.
These genes are latent, Wilm said. They have been inactive since the creation of the virus. We suspect they were intended as some kind of fail-safe. We don’t know why they’ve suddenly switched on now, but that’s what has happened in the symbionts of the Xin, and we have the X-variant mutant as a result. Technically, it’s not a mutation, but the effect is similar.
The holographic genes shrank and disappeared back inside the model, which in turn shrank back to its normal size.
Wilm looked around at his virtual audience. Are there any questions for me at this point?
There has been no mention of gene therapy, a man’s voice on the Dronet said. Have you tried to develop a way to treat those of us who are still unaffected? Perhaps the symbiont could be instructed to snip out its own flawed genes, something like that.
Wilm said, I am a physicist. My colleague, Safia, is a symbiopathologist; she can answer your question b
etter than I.
Safia’s holo stepped forward and stood next to Wilm’s. Yes, we had thought of that as well, she said. Unfortunately, nothing we’ve tried can induce the symbiont to disrupt its own genome. It has built-in defenses to guard itself from any kind of tampering. And when we try to override it using programmed cells or nano that is foreign to the symbiont, it destroys them before they can even reach the flawed genes.
Wilm waved a hand at the row of holographic models. However, we did discover something we didn’t know: there is one strain that doesn’t have the genetic flaw.
Now the beta model expanded, showing the corresponding strand of DNA, but this one was missing the string of latent genes.
Beta has no flaw, Wilm said. Beta is perfect.
He ran a hand through his mop of reddish-brown hair. Now, you’re probably wondering what this discovery can do for us. Well, it can’t save us personally, but it might save the Unathi race. As luck—or fate—would have it, after decades of work my colleagues and I have just completed testing a device for faster-than-light space travel. We were about to announce it when the X-crisis hit. We are now attempting to convert that technology to time travel, and I believe it will work. If we can go back to 2079 and change the past, we have a chance to save the Unathi. If we don’t, humanity in any form will end with us, forever.
How can we do this? the voices asked.
Wilm smiled ruefully. I have a plan, he said. But every surviving Unathi must agree. And there’s no time to waste; even now, some of your symbionts are mutating.
Chapter 7
Benaya Region, North America
August 2616
Day 26 of X-Crisis
THEY WERE STILL MAKING their way toward Jaen’s shelter in Panadi sobran when the call came over the Dronet for volunteers to report to Wilm’s research center in Anzim as soon as possible. Volunteers were needed to train for the mission in 2079. Wilm and the other scientists believed that the experience of time travel would be physically traumatic, and so they were accepting only young people. Maika was too old to go, but Sunita and Ral were a bit too young, much to their disappointment.
The X-Variant (The Guardians Book 1) Page 5
