The X-Variant (The Guardians Book 1)

by Rosemary Cole

  Kala and Crisfer were eager to volunteer, but Liet hesitated.

  “Oh, sweetness,” Kala said gently, “I hadn’t thought. If you come with us, it means you’ll lose Jaen.” The trip was to be one way only—no one would be coming back.

  “And if she stays here with Jaen, she loses us,” Crisfer said.

  Kala started to embrace Liet, but the other woman pulled away. “I’m going,” she said fiercely, and Crisfer sent his drones to say three were coming.

  They decided to continue on to Jaen’s shelter to drop off Sunita and Ral, and so that Liet could say goodbye to her carefather in person. Then they would head for Anzim, a sobran on the shore of a great salt lake several hundred miles to the east, in Takaya. Maika offered to pilot the floater to deliver them there, and then she would stay on and help in any way she could.

  “At least this way, Liet gets to see Jaen in person one more time,” Kala murmured to Crisfer.

  “I hope she’ll be okay,” he said, and they exchanged a worried look.

  They stayed at the shelter in Panadi for one night, with plans to set off again early the next morning. The shelter had been well fortified; Kala hoped it was enough to keep them safe from the Xin.

  When Liet came back aboard the floater next morning, Kala could tell that she’d been crying, but she wouldn’t let Kala or Crisfer approach her. She left the small cabin and went outside to get a last look at the shelter before they sailed away. Her bondmates followed, standing next to her quietly.

  Jaen, Sunita, Ral and some of the local survivors were on the roof, waving goodbye. They waved back, Liet wiping away tears with her other hand.

  The floater moved off. A rising breeze lifted Kala’s ponytail, and she shivered as the shelter and the familiar sight of the sea slowly dwindled into the distance. The early September morning was overcast, the sun no more than a dull glow on the eastern horizon—the direction in which they were headed.

  She wasn’t physically cold—the chill was in her heart. She had lost many of those dearest to her, and now she was about to lose the world she had always known. At least she still had Liet and Crisfer, she thought, pushing away the ugly image of one of her bondmates mutating that kept stubbornly sneaking into her mind.

  Everyone had agreed to Wilm’s plan. He and his colleagues at their technology research center in Anzim had completed the time travel device and were now testing it. They had shared the schematics with survivors on other parts of the continent and everywhere in the world the Jiki was still operating, so that people in those places could attempt to build their own devices and participate in the mission in their areas.

  It would take six days to get to the center. Kala tried to pass the time reading articles on the Hub about the twenty-first century, but her thoughts wandered. She was still struggling with the idea that every one of them was going to die. No one knew how much time he or she had left. She didn’t know how Wilm was planning to save the Unathi, but expected to learn more about it at the center.

  From a little seating area under an awning, she watched Liet, longing to embrace her, as much for Liet’s comfort as her own. The frustration of having to keep her distance gnawed at her constantly.

  To distract herself, she thought about what it might be like at the research center. Would there be any trouble with Xin when they arrived at the center and tried to get in? With her toe, she nudged the bag resting on the floor by her feet. Tucked inside it was her trusty mallet. The weapon gave her a heady sense of power she was not used to; at the same time, she was filled with guilt and shame every time she had to use it. But underneath this complicated knot of feelings, it felt good to know that she could protect herself and her companions. Whatever was coming, she felt ready for it.

  The setting sun splashed wide swaths of orange, pink and red across the sky as they approached Anzim a week later. The great salt lake reflected back the colors, glowing like a large, flat gem.

  The hulking, marble-clad research center—the biggest building Kala had ever seen—sat near the shore, surrounded by a bridgeless moat. All but the uppermost windows were boarded up and any protrusions removed from the building’s sides. The floater descended toward the roof, where a couple of young Unathi waited to escort them in.

  Maika and the trio disembarked gratefully from the cramped floater and climbed down into the top floor of the building through a hatch. From there, they were led to a flight of stairs that wound down through the building’s many levels. Off each landing was a fresh maze of classrooms, dormitories and labs. The building continued underground with several subterranean levels. Without the help of her drones, Kala knew she could get lost in this place.

  They were shown to small office rooms that had been converted to quarters. Kala unslung her bag, heavy with the mallet, and set it on her bunk, relieved that there had been no Xin to fight in order to gain entrance. But that didn’t mean, she thought grimly, that no one would turn while she was here. If they did, she’d be ready.

  The next morning right after breakfast, Kala and her bondmates reported to a large classroom for an orientation session, along with other new arrivals from various places in the western half of North America. They found seats as the classroom quickly filled up. There were about thirty volunteers.

  A grim-faced woman entered the room and walked briskly to the front. She introduced herself as Narana.

  “Welcome, and thank you all for volunteering,” she said. “You are special, each and every one of you. You’re going to save the Unathi race.”

  There was some murmuring among the volunteers, a bit of uncomfortable shuffling.

  Narana laughed. “You’ll get used to the idea. Before I go any further into the mission, let me fill you in on what’s going on here. Anzim Center, as we’re simply calling it, is processing its last wave of volunteers, of which you twenty are a part.

  “There are 323 trainees in this facility now, including you. Approximately fifty more are still due to arrive. All told, this center will process over six hundred trainees to send to various megacities in the western half of North America in 2079. Several waves of agents have already been sent. They’re there now, setting things up. They’ll establish a Dronet and a new Hub, though these will be limited at first, until their symbionts can produce all the drones required to run them.”

  “What about the eastern half?” someone asked.

  “That will be handled by another training facility that has been set up on the East Coast,” Narana replied. “They have built their own time travel device using Wilm’s design.”

  She paused to take a deep breath. “It’s not going to be easy for you to hear what I have to say, and it won’t help matters if I try to soften it for you. So listen to me carefully, and then make your final decision as to whether you wish to volunteer for this mission.” She scanned their faces, her expression serious. “Whether you stay here or go to the past, you’re going to die. You’ll either be killed by a Xin or eventually turn into one of them. Or you could be killed on the mission.”

  She strolled up and down the front of the room, rubbing her jaw. “Understand, this mission isn’t to save us, it’s to save a new breed of Unathi who will replace us: the Bei. Their human ancestors carrying the beta strain of the virus died out in the aftermath of the pandemic, but you are going to change that.

  “When someone goes back to the past and starts changing things, it creates a new timeline, a ripple effect into the future. Once you start saving beta humans in 2079, a whole new race of Bei Unathi should spring into existence in the future, having evolved from those human hosts. They will never mutate, because they don’t have the genetic flaw.

  “You will also need to terminate human hosts carrying the epsilon strain—the viral ancestor of our own Ei symbionts. They will only lead to us—the Ei Unathi, whose symbionts will mutate into the X-variant.”

  Kala felt a tingle of shock. Wait, she thought. This can’t be right. No one at the holo conference had said anything about terminating a
nyone.

  “Couldn’t we just stop the viral epidemic from happening in the first place?” asked a young woman from Asaya, a region in the area the humans had once called Mexico.

  Narana’s lips flickered into a brief smile. “Think about it, and someone tell me why we can’t do that.”

  “Because then the Unathi would never come to exist at all, because our symbionts would never have evolved from the virus,” another volunteer answered promptly.

  “Correct. And it’s a shame, because it would save a lot of suffering and billions of human deaths,” Narana said. “No, we need to go back and make sure that only those carrying the beta virus survive, instead of dying out as they actually did. I know it’s harsh, but we can’t create a whole new strain of Bei Unathi only to have them wiped out by Xin in 2616. If it helps, think of all the beta humans whose lives you’ll be saving. There was a lot of death back then; we’re merely reshuffling it. But if we don’t do anything, there will be no humanity left after we’re gone. No humans, no Ei Unathi, no Bei Unathi. No one.”

  She clasped her hands together in front of her. “Let me be clear: this is a suicide mission. If you succeed, people will start disappearing here in 2616, and one by one, you will start to disappear from 2079. You’re going to be wiping out your own ancestors. Therefore, you will never have originated as a zygote in a vat sometime around 2590, become an agent in 2616, and traveled back in time to 2079. In the blink of an eye, you’ll be gone, and no one will even remember that you existed. The same will be happening to us here in 2616.

  “By the same token, when you save a beta human who should have died, you will be bringing into existence whole new populations. Those of you who still exist on the mission will suddenly find yourselves working with Bei agents. But don’t worry about it too much—you won't even realize things have changed.”

  For a moment, Kala didn’t understand, and the other volunteers looked just as baffled.

  Throwing up her hands impatiently, Narana said, “Don’t you see? You’ll have grown up with the new people instead—the Bei. They will have originated in the same zygote batch as you. They will have been your friends since childhood. We Ei will become a rapidly shrinking minority. And then at some point the last one of us will disappear, until at the end it will be only Bei.”

  She crossed her arms and surveyed the room. “Now, given our pacifist nature, I’m sure you’re wondering how you’re supposed to terminate epsilon humans, not to mention defend yourself from hostiles.” Nods from the volunteers. “Rest assured, we have thought of everything. You’re going to learn a system of defensive-only martial arts. But you’ll only need to defend yourselves long enough for your new drone attack system to come into play.”

  Kala’s ears pricked up. What? A drone attack system?

  Narana explained that their syms would be altered to produce a new type of drone in addition to their regular scouting and communication drones. “These new attack drones will be under your control, just like your regular drones. At your command, they will enter the body of your target and pacify them by putting them to sleep. They can also quickly and painlessly euthanize the target. Afterward, they will return to you and rejoin your symbiont.”

  “How will we know what strain a human is carrying?” one of the volunteers asked.

  “Your attack drones can sample anyone you wish and tell you what their virus strain is, and then you can instruct them to euthanize if necessary.”

  She paced a few short steps back and forth at the front of the room. “I know this is a hard thing for you to accept, and even harder to commit yourselves to. But it’s absolutely necessary. And we will do everything we can to help and protect you on this mission. You’ll have special armor that should be very effective in deflecting the humans’ weapons.”

  She stopped and faced them. “As you can see, we have a lot to do, and we’d better get started. Now, it’s time to be fitted for your body armor.”

  Dazed, Kala walked out of the room and headed upstairs with the others.

  Chapter 8

  Liet’s Journal

  Anzim Sobran

  September 2616

  Day 36 of X-Crisis

  Yesterday we learned that we are going to have to kill (let’s not use stupid euphemisms, okay?) epsilon humans after we arrive in 2079. Needless to say, I didn’t get much sleep last night. So what else is new?

  I tossed and turned, thinking about the mission. Let’s see if I have this straight, I thought. We have to kill humans, and when we do, we will also be putting an end to the Ei Unathi because we’ll be killing their ancestors. Wait—I could kill my own ancestor and snuff myself out. Now wouldn’t that be ironic?

  I’m not sure which of these things is worse. The killing, I guess, for the simple fact that I can’t kill anything, no matter how humanely it’s done. I could never do what Kala did when she took out that Xin that attacked us in Belem. And they expect me to kill defenseless humans?

  I don’t know how I’ll go on, knowing I’m never going to see Jaen again. I’ve been pestering him a lot with holo visits, and he’s being very patient. I can tell by his face that he’s already grieving my loss, and it breaks my heart.

  In spite of all this, I’ve decided that I’m not going to be among those who will drop out of the program. Kala and Crisfer aren’t about to drop out, and so neither can I. What’s the alternative—stay here by myself, never to see them again? Maika has no intention of leaving this place. Let’s face it, my chances of making it back to be with Jaen are slight.

  If I were honest—if I were stronger—I’d bow out right now, stay here with Maika and serve the cause in some supporting role for as long as I can. But I’m not going to do that. I can’t be without my bondmates, I just can’t. So it looks like the three of us are going to travel to the past together, soldiers in arms (so to speak) in this mad war against the future.

  I only hope I don’t let everyone down.

  Kala’s days at the center were busy, and the time flew by. She enjoyed the defensive martial arts lessons. The moves had already been uploaded to their symbionts, so in their heads they “knew” the art, but muscle memory had to be learned the hard way. When they weren’t doing anything else, every moment was spent in the gym, learning new moves or practicing the old ones.

  It was the same with their American English lessons. The knowledge of it was already in their brains after being uploaded to their syms, but they had to learn to get their tongues and lips around the unfamiliar words. The culture and customs of North America in 2079, along with a full set of maps, was uploaded to their syms and they could access it anytime.

  Time was of the essence and they worked long, hard days, sleeping only a few hours each night. At the same time, their equipment was being produced, assembled and packed. They would bring essential survival and medical gear with them into the past, including various Unathi devices, each of which ran on a small, long-lasting arken.

  Once the three bondmates had committed themselves formally to the program, Liet softened toward Kala, and returned to spending the short nights with her bondmates. Kala’s spirits rose despite the grim nature of the task before them. She had her beloved partner back, but it wasn’t quite the same as before. The young woman whose every emotion had once showed on her face—especially her warm feelings for Kala—was now cool and reserved. Kala could only accept this and hope things improved.

  A shift of trainees, instructors, scientists and techs had just sat down to their evening meal in the large communal dining hall. Kala, on kitchen duty, was bringing out a large platter of baked fish when screams rang out from the far end of the room. Chairs crashed to the floor, and then Kala heard a snarl that raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

  It could only mean one thing. Someone had turned.

  Kala had been trying to keep herself in a constant state of readiness for this, but when it finally happened, she was taken by surprise. She dropped the platter, hearing it crash on the floor as she dashed
out of the dining hall and up the stairs to her quarters. She grabbed her mallet and ran back as fast as she could. At the dining hall, a crowd blocked the entrance. She pushed her way through them to see what was happening.

  The room had emptied out except for two instructors holding up a large, sturdy fishing net between them. Two of the older trainees stood by their sides, holding out metal poles. Together all four advanced on the Xin, a female, who was crouched over its victim. It bared its teeth and charged, but they deftly caught it in the net, winding it around and around the Xin until it couldn’t move and finally fell over. It thrashed and shrieked, but the net held fast.

  Another trainee came in with some rope and bound the Xin’s arms and legs. Then the instructors hoisted it up onto their shoulders. It struggled and tried to bite its way out of the net, with no success. The smooth, practiced way the whole thing was handled made Kala think this had happened here many times before. She watched, fascinated, as the instructors carried the writhing Xin out of the dining hall.

  Where are they taking her? she asked at large over the Dronet.

  They’re keeping them in cages for study, someone answered.

  People began righting chairs and tables and cleaning up spilled food. Kala turned to take her mallet back to her room and almost collided with a man who had been standing behind her. It was the slender scientist, Wilm, from the holo conference. Seeing him in person, she estimated that he was about fifteen years older than she, making him about thirty-seven to her twenty-two.

  He looked at her closely, recognition dawning on his face, and then smiled. “Greetings, Kala. Looks like you won’t need your mallet this time, doesn’t it?”

  “I—uh—you know about that?”