The X-Variant (The Guardians Book 1)

by Rosemary Cole

  Brandon realized that it was true; Kala had gotten them to hide before they’d heard anyone coming.

  Her hearing must have been as superb as her night vision, for she answered them without turning around. “Those humans have been infected by the gamma strain of the SHA virus. It has changed them radically. We call them Ghal. They have become what I think you might call monsters. It is very important to stay clear of them.”

  Monsters? Brandon and Jennie shared an uneasy glance. They had heard rumors of weird, dangerous people around, but thought it was just wild gangers. This just kept getting stranger.

  Kala felt a certain satisfaction as they walked along; her ploy had worked even better than she had anticipated. Jennie’s child had been the deciding factor, as Kala had known it would. How many times had Fawan told her that parenting changed everything? The child always comes first, she used to say. With the little information Kala had given them, it was no surprise that none of the other humans had wanted to come. Now all she had to do was quietly terminate the epsilons back at the commune. Once they had traveled far enough, she would send back her attack drones to take care of them. Then she would find a way to terminate Jennie and the baby without Brandon realizing she was the one who had done it. That way, he would remain cooperative. She cringed inwardly at these thoughts, but then pushed her misgivings away. It has to be done, she thought fiercely. Remember the mission.

  There seemed to be more Ghal around now than when she had left the refuge; it was worrisome. She reached out with her drones and hailed the Ghal watch on duty.

  Kala, I was about to contact you, he said. There’s been a large number of Ghal building up in the downtown area for days now, and tonight they’ve decided to move. They’re coming through straight east toward the Golden Gate, which means they’re going to cut off your return to the refuge. We can’t even get a vehicle out to pick you up, there are too many of them. Have you got any betas with you?

  So they were assuming Kala was out on a hunt.

  Just a couple, she replied without thinking. Don’t worry, we’ll be all right. I’ll find us some shelter until morning. Hopefully, the Ghal will have passed through by then.

  Okay. Stay sharp, he returned, and she reassured him that she would.

  Searching with her drones, she found a promising place a few streets over and a bit further north, and she turned to lead the humans in that direction. As they drew closer, she saw that it was a building that had been used for storing goods—warehouse was the English word. It was behind a chain-link fence, but the gate had been broken long ago.

  Brandon asked, “How do you know no one’s in there?”

  Kala didn’t reply, but walked through one of the large, gaping double doors. It was very dark inside. She realized the humans were completely blind and allowed Brandon to light his lantern. The ground floor was empty except for a few pieces of junk. The were no stairs, just a gaping hole in the ceiling leading to the second story.

  Kala said, “I will lift you up. Please pass your lantern to Jennie.”

  Brandon stared at her incredulously but without another word, she crouched down and seized him around the knees, then straightened. He barely had time to hand the lantern to Jennie before he was rising straight up through the air. He flailed his arms wildly for balance, and then his hands latched onto the sides of the hole and he hauled himself the rest of the way up, grunting.

  Kala turned to take the baby from Jennie.

  “Now hold on!” Jennie cried, flinching away.

  Kala held still. “Please—she will be quite safe.”

  “Do it, Jennie,” ordered Brandon, and after another moment of hesitation, the girl complied.

  Holding the baby in one arm, Kala leaped up and grasped an edge of the opening with one hand. Dangling, she lifted the baby up to Brandon with her other arm, balancing her carefully. Then she dropped down again and lifted Jennie high enough for Brandon to take her arms and pull her up.

  After a last drone check of the surrounding area, Kala sprang up and easily maneuvered herself through the hole. For some reason, the humans were gaping at her. They did that a lot; she was starting to get used to it.

  “See if there is anything to sleep on,” she said. “We are going to be here until morning.”

  Brandon frowned. “I thought you said the place was only a couple miles away?”

  “It has become too dangerous,” Kala told him. “We will finish the journey tomorrow.”

  Jennie sighed and the two began to poke around, trying to make themselves comfortable. Someone else had used this place at some point; there was trash scattered around and a couple of filthy mattresses lay on the floor, next to a frayed armchair with no legs.

  The baby had begun to fret and Jennie lowered herself into the armchair and took her from Brandon, rocking her. Brandon busied himself preparing a meager snack for her from the rations in his pack. He ate nothing himself, Kala noted with approval.

  She walked away, toward the dark end of the warehouse. This was a good time to take care of the epsilons back at the commune. She sent her scout drones first; the commune was quiet. All of the humans had settled down for the night, except for the guards. The two epsilons were asleep. Taking a deep breath, she sent her attack drones. They did what they were designed to do and returned to her.

  Deep shudders wracked her body. Would she ever get used to this? It felt so wrong, even though she knew what they were doing was right. Tears welled up in her eyes and spilled down her face. She walked back to the humans, making no effort to hide them.

  They stared at her, alarmed.

  “What is it? Are you all right?” Brandon asked. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Jennie’s armchair, the little lantern flickering in front of them.

  “All is well,” Kala said evenly, wiping her face. “Do not worry.”

  She sat on the floor near them. Searching for a distraction, her eyes fell on a mark on the top of Brandon’s right hand. “What caused that”—she paused, searching for the word—“scar on your hand?”

  Brandon glanced down at it, touching it briefly. “This? It’s where my ID chip was. After I ran away, I went to find my aunt’s dom in the Tenderloin—”

  “Dom?” interrupted Kala.

  “Domicile. It’s crappy housing for the poor who are on sub.”

  “Sub?”

  “Yeah, you know—subsistence payments from the government.” He peered at her curiously. “Where the heck are you from, anyway?”

  “She’s obviously a foreigner,” Jennie said. Her voice had softened since she had seen Kala’s tears. “Probably from the UN or something like that. Just tell her what she needs to know.”

  “Right,” Brandon continued. “So, um, Jennie is sort of my cousin, but not by blood. She’s the adopted daughter of my Aunt Meghan. She took her in from the streets when Jennie was five. That’s why she never got a chip; she was never in the system. Anyway, when I finally got to their tiny place, they took me in and fed me, even though they had barely enough for themselves—”

  “What is this chip?”

  “Oh, it’s how the NAU government tracks everybody. It’s your ID as well as your wallet. You can’t go anywhere, do anything, or buy anything without them knowing about it and allowing it. The chip became mandatory for every new baby starting in 2060, the year I was born.”

  He took a deep breath. “So anyway, Jennie’s mom took a razor and cut the chip out of my hand and then smashed it. She said if she didn’t, they’d find me right away. She said that I couldn’t stay, I’d have to leave that night if I didn’t want to get caught. So Jennie and I hit the streets. This was last, uh, October. I had no idea what I was doing; Jennie really helped me through it.”

  The girl smiled at him, her eyes warm. “Just like I said back then, honey, you wouldn’t have made it one night without me.”

  “You’re right about that, babe,” he said. “So there we were, no place to sleep, not even able to buy food. But we made it t
o the Greenie commune and they were surviving okay off the grid, so we stayed. And we’ve been there ever since. Until now, that is.”

  Kala raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t quite followed all of it, but she thought she had the gist. “And why had you run away?” she asked.

  “Oh—I wasn’t getting along with my dad,” Brandon explained. “He wanted me to stay in military school, but I couldn’t stand those assholes. Bunch of mean, stuck-up jerks. My dad is Colonel Roger Martinez of the HSDF. He wanted me to go through military school and join the military, but I refused. The whole system is corrupt and fascist, and I refused to be a part of it. My dad and I fought and I ended up running away. Haven’t looked back since.” His voice faltered. “I don’t even know if they survived the virus or not.”

  Jennie put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

  “I see,” Kala said softly. “I am sorry.”

  Brandon looked away. “I’m beat,” he said. “Gonna call it a night. Jen?”

  “I’ve got to feed the baby,” Jennie said. “You go on.”

  He shuffled toward one of the mattresses, then stopped and looked back.

  “You saved our lives back there, Kala. I don’t know how to thank you for that. We’re in your debt, Jennie and me. If there’s anything we can ever do for you, just say the word.”

  Kala nodded gravely, and Brandon lowered his long frame onto the mattress with a sigh, placing his crowbar on the floor within easy reach. His breathing turned heavy almost immediately.

  Jennie rocked the baby, humming and stroking its head as it nursed greedily. Kala watched, fascinated, suddenly conscious of her own small breasts with their flat nipples. Compared to this woman, she was quite streamlined was perhaps the word.

  Oh, yes, that’s the way it used to be done, Araka said. It was meant not only to nourish the infant, but to strengthen the bond between mother and child. Not that the Unathi have suffered for the lack of breastfeeding. On the contrary, our nutrient mixtures are superior even to the humans’ breast milk.

  Kala became aware that Jennie was watching her. The girl’s eyes reminded her of Liet, with their slight tilt and the small fold of skin over the inner corners. Her light-brown skin and dark-brown hair were similar to Kala’s own coloring. Except for her small size, Jennie could have passed as an Unathi.

  The girl’s eyes were overflowing now with sympathy as they regarded her. She reached out and placed her small hand on Kala’s arm, patting it gently. “You’ve had a tough time of it, haven’t you?” she said softly. Without waiting for an answer, she went on. “I know—we all have. Brandon didn’t say anything before, but my mom is dead.” She stopped and swallowed, her eyes growing glassy with tears.

  “I am very sorry,” Kala murmured.

  Jennie nodded, sniffling. “Thanks. I went back home after SHAV hit. I was already pregnant, so I had to sneak out of the commune; otherwise, Brandon wouldn’t have let me go. But I know how to get around the city. I know the back ways and the rooftops, how to watch for the gangs. I can take care of myself—Brandon just doesn’t get that. I had to go back, you know? To see if she had made it.” She looked down at the sleepy infant and heaved a deep sigh. “I found her in her chair. She hadn’t suffered from the virus, she’d seen to that. My mom always had her ways. She was smart and strong.”

  Kala nodded. She had no idea what to say. Even now, she was aware of her loved ones here in this time, Crisfer and Liet. In a way they were always there, inside her head. The three were constantly connected to each other via the Dronet.

  Internally, she commented to Araka, She was out of touch with her mother all that time? I can’t imagine how these people live so cut off from each other. The loneliness must be unbearable.

  Quite right, my dear, he replied.

  As she watched the baby nurse, Kala suffered a pang thinking of little Onisha, whose life had been so short. And Fawan. It hurt so much to think of them.

  She felt Jennie’s eyes on her. The girl’s brows were drawn up in sympathy, as if she had somehow sensed Kala’s pain. The deep circles under her eyes were stark in the shadowy warehouse.

  “We can’t give up hope,” Jennie said. “We have to fight.”

  The baby began to fuss; apparently, the milk had run out. Jennie raised the baby to her shoulder and began patting her back. “For this little girl, you know? We named her Meghan, after my mother. She’s the only thing that keeps me going. Her and Brandon. I have to fight—for them.”

  The baby gave a sharp little belch, as if placing her stamp of approval on the statement. Jennie giggled and Kala smiled.

  “Now we’re going to get some sleep, aren’t we, darling?” she cooed to the infant. “Night, Kala.”

  “Sleep well,” Kala replied.

  Jennie lay down on the mattress next to Brandon, holding the baby close. She turned her head and blew out the candle, leaving them in the dark.

  Kala pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. Her night vision had clicked in instantly and she carefully studied the humans on the mattress. Brandon’s body was about a third longer than Jennie’s. And that Mike fellow back at the commune—she hadn’t known humans could come in such wildly varied sizes. Unathi were very uniform by comparison.

  She closed her eyes and sent out her drones. There were very few humans in their immediate area. Further north, a sea of creatures—the Ghal, they must be—shuffled slowly through the city, east to west, for some purpose known only to them. Maybe they just moved mindlessly—who knew? But she and the humans were safe here.

  She turned and looked at the sleeping humans, thinking about all they had told her.

  What amazing creatures, she said to Araka. After all she’s been through, she wanted to comfort me.

  They definitely have their moments, her symbiont replied.

  I never knew they could be like this. Why didn’t you tell me?

  It’s something you had to discover for yourself, dear heart.

  They’re much more like us than I had imagined.

  Yes.

  Kala remained awake on drone watch the rest of the night, pacing silently around the warehouse, her mind in turmoil. The humans murmured and jerked in their sleep. At some point the baby started to fuss and Jennie sat up, still half-asleep, nursed her and then lay back down with her again. The moon crawled slowly across the sky and finally disappeared, and the stars grew brighter for a while. By the time the high warehouse windows had begun to lighten, Kala was certain. She could not kill Jennie and her baby. She would not.

  Chapter 13

  KALA HAD BEEN PLANNING to let the humans sleep as long as they liked, but the baby had other ideas. No mere fussing; this time it was outright squalls. Brandon turned over and put his hands over his ears as Jennie sat up, blinking. “Sorry,” she murmured, and then crawled over to Brandon’s pack and began rummaging through it for diapers.

  The baby kept up the noise the whole time she was being changed. Kala anxiously scanned the area around them with her drones to make sure the sound hadn’t attracted anyone—or anything. Finally Jennie began to nurse the infant, and blessed quiet descended.

  Brandon let out a deep sigh and sat up, his wavy black hair tangled. “God, I can’t wait until she can sleep through the night.”

  Jennie scowled at him. “You try feeding her every four hours.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart.” He gave her a beguiling smile and began to pull some rations from his pack for breakfast. “Would you like some of this?” he asked Kala.

  “No, I’ll be fine until we get back,” she answered.

  He brought Jennie a small container of cereal moistened with a bit of powdered milk and water, and then carried his own over and sat on the floor next to Kala. With his mouth full of cereal, he said to her, “You didn’t sleep, did you?”

  “How do you know this?”

  “I woke up a few times, and you were always awake.” He crunched the cereal thoughtfully. “So. You can go without eating or sleeping. Y
ou’re strong as an ox, even though you look maybe eighteen.”

  Twenty-two, Kala thought, but said nothing.

  “You dress kind of weird, and you talk funny. To top it all off, you can make people pass out without even touching them.” He lowered his bowl and scooted around on his bottom so that he was facing her. “I’d say it’s time you did some explaining. Don’t give me any bullshit—just the truth, please. Start with who you are and where you’re from.”

  Kala gazed at him, thinking. Now that she had decided not to kill Jennie and the baby, her attitude toward these humans was starting to change. Perhaps she did owe them an explanation. But how much should she tell them?

  Don’t tell them you’re a time-traveler, Araka advised. They won’t believe you. They might even laugh.

  Kala frowned and looked down at her clasped hands.

  Say you’re with the UN, Araka urged. It stands for the United Nations, a global organization that once tried to help the poorer countries. Say you’re from Senegal.

  “I am from the future,” Kala said. “I have been sent back to this time to help certain of you humans survive the viral pandemic.”

  In her head, Araka groaned.

  Brandon choked on the spoonful of cereal he had been shoveling into his mouth. When he stopped coughing, he started to laugh.

  Jennie, who had been listening to the conversation, gave a snort.

  Kala pinned them with a level stare until they stopped laughing.

  “Either you’re telling the truth, or you believe that you’re telling the truth, which would make you completely loco.” Brandon sighed and scratched his head. “Okay—can you tell me how you know whether people are around or not? And how you can make them pass out?”

  “My symbiont lets me do that,” explained Kala. At his blank stare, she went on. “I am Unathi. We are a symbiotic race, two combined species dependent upon each other—human host and symbiont. Our symbionts evolved from the SHA virus over hundreds of years. It produces drones inside our bodies that can tell us where objects or living things are in our vicinity. They can also pacify humans.” She almost said “or kill them,” but stopped herself just in time.