The X-Variant (The Guardians Book 1)

by Rosemary Cole

  What did I tell you, my dear? Araka asked.

  She returned to the camp one early afternoon and ate a late lunch at the picnic table they used for dining. Brandon had stretched an awning over it to ward off the hot sun.

  Afterward, she and Wilm walked down to the shore together. Sharp reflections of the pine trees shivered in the water. Kala let out a sigh, enjoying the soft breeze and the birds calling to each other. She felt good here, more relaxed than any time she could remember since the mission began.

  Wilm touched her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

  “I’ll be all right,” she said. “Just worried about the situation. I trust you’ve been keeping your drones in very close, like I asked? That way, no one should know where we are. I’m hoping it’s like we just disappeared off the Dronet.”

  He chuckled. “Yes, I’ve been doing as you asked me to. The others probably think we mutated into Xin and killed the humans.”

  “Maybe,” she said, making an effort to smile. “I don’t care what they think, as long as they don’t know where we are.” She paused for a moment, meeting his eyes. “I know it’s hard for you. You must feel blind, and I’m sorry about that.”

  “I’m putting all of my trust in you, Kala. Without your drones’ remarkable ability to camouflage themselves, or whatever it is they do, we wouldn’t be able to pull this off.”

  He stopped walking, and she looked at him. “What is it, Wilm?”

  “There was an incident this morning while you were gone. I was keeping my drones in like you said, but about an hour after you left I went to get another log from that pile of downed trees, and I spotted a Ghal in the woods. I hid and it must not have seen me, because it moved on. I went back to camp and the humans were fine—they hadn’t seen anything. I told them to get ready to run, just in case. Then I released my drones. I checked the area all around, but kept them within ten miles in every direction. I found the Ghal I’d seen and another one, but that’s all there were, and they were headed north.”

  He looked at her, his eyebrows drawn up in regret. “I’m sorry, but I truly felt it was necessary. I’ve got them all back in, now that you’re here.”

  She touched his arm with her fingertips. “It’s okay. It’s my fault—I should have left some of my drones here, but I thought I might need all of them in case I ran into trouble. There’s nothing else you could have done, Wilm. Anyway, we’re pretty far north of SanFran now, and we’ve been out of touch for a while. I seriously doubt that any of them have drones within a ten-mile radius of here.”

  He nodded. “Yes, you’re probably right. I’m sure we’re okay.”

  Chapter 23

  ONE FINE MORNING A week after they’d arrived at the lake, Kala rose a little later than usual. She was pulling her boots on when Brandon came out of the cabin carrying the SMG.

  “Can I come with you today?” he asked, blinking and wiping sleep out of his eyes.

  “I would prefer to go alone,” she said, and tried to ignore his hurt look. She looked forward to the solitude of her forays; they gave her a little time to herself to think.

  Half a mile from camp, she spotted a couple of mule deer and froze. She watched their soft eyes as they grazed, their ears flicking sporadically in her direction. She thought of the deer in the meadows outside Chandika sobran, and a wave of homesickness rolled through her.

  She sighed. Perhaps Brandon was right; she could take these animals out easily with her attack drones and they’d have meat for days. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it—not yet. She’d wait a little longer; maybe something else would turn up.

  She walked on, heading northeast, but stopped again when she heard the buzz of an approaching aircraft. It was the first one she had heard since the early days when she’d first arrived in SanFran. Once the virus had taken hold of the country, flights had stopped running.

  She shaded her eyes, scanning the bright sky. There it was, a black speck growing larger. She recognized the shape of a helicopter from files on the Hub she had seen. It was heading straight toward their camp. Heart thudding, she sent her drones to see who was in it; others went to protect Jennie and the baby.

  Her drones returned. The helicopter was carrying Crisfer and a living creature. Did he have a Xin with him?

  What are you doing, Crisfer? she asked.

  He didn’t answer.

  He was in a high emotional state, angry and hostile.

  Kala sprang into a run, heading toward Jennie’s location, at the same time sending a quick warning to Wilm. Jennie had gone out to gather firewood about the same time Kala had left. She was responsible for finding tinder and kindling.

  Kala crashed through the forest, leaping over downed trees and bushes. Her drones sensed a living creature in the trees just ahead; that must be Jennie. As she passed though a clearing, a whistling noise began, coming from above. It quickly got louder, and an object streaked by overhead. A missile—it had to be. And it was heading for the patch of woods just ahead.

  “No!” she shrieked. She surged forward and then staggered back as a blinding flash of light assaulted her eyes. A deep boom reverberated through the forest. Kala regained her balance and started forward again, only to be forced back by the massive fireball that flared out from the strike site, igniting a large swath of trees around it. Shielding her face from the heat and glare, she tried to search for Jennie with her drones, but they couldn’t enter the inferno without being destroyed.

  Kala sank to her knees, watching the fire consume the forest with a hungry roar. Nothing could come out of that alive. Jennie was gone.

  Despair seized her, and she bent forward, letting out a wail.

  Araka quickly released some neurochemicals to calm her. Not now, dear one. Deal with your feelings later. You can bet Crisfer isn’t finished yet.

  Kala realized he was right. With a tremendous effort, she pushed her pain aside and stood, wiping her face and listening. Barely discernible over the crackling and roaring of the fire, she heard the distant thump of helicopter blades as the machine settled near the upper end of the lake. Of course—the dry flats there were the only place to land something that large.

  Coughing from the waves of stinging smoke rolling off the burning trees, she ran in that direction. Her drones told her that the creature who had been with Crisfer was still with the aircraft, but Crisfer had left it already and was headed directly for the campsite.

  The baby.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” Kala yelled and veered off, hoping to catch him before he got there.

  He must have heard her coming, because he put on a sudden burst of speed. Kala was faster, but he was closer to camp. She gained on him slowly, following the crashing sounds he made and his trail of crushed vegetation.

  She checked ahead, her heart in her throat, but the baby was okay. Kala’s drones were in place, protecting her; otherwise, she’d probably already be dead.

  Crisfer broke through into the campsite clearing, Kala right behind him. Wilm and Brandon stood side by side in front of the cabin. Wilm gripped his tire iron; Brandon had the SMG up and ready. Behind them, the cabin door was closed; her drones told her that Alex, Victoria and the baby were inside.

  She realized that Brandon was about to fire. She and Crisfer dove in different directions at the same moment, a fraction of a second before machine-gun fire rattled and bullets whizzed over them. Brandon must have suddenly spotted Kala, for he jerked the muzzle of the gun upward, spraying the trees with bullets for a moment before he was able to stop firing.

  Quick as a cat, Crisfer sprang up at Brandon and smashed a hand into his ribs. There was an audible crack and Brandon went down, dropping the gun. Wilm skittered back out of the way as Kala launched herself at Crisfer.

  The two agents collided and fell to the ground together. They rolled forward, narrowly missing Brandon, who lay on the ground writhing in agony, clutching his side. Victoria’s piercing scream rang out from the cabin door, and Kala caught a glimpse of her pal
e face peeking out to see what was happening before she disappeared back inside. The two combatants rolled back the other way, pummeling and grappling, each trying to get the upper hand.

  Brandon groaned and tried to struggle to his elbows, but fell back, paralyzed by pain. “Wilm—the gun!” he gasped.

  Kala and Crisfer broke apart and jumped to their feet. They circled each other, glaring and breathing heavily.

  “Give over, Kala. I’m not leaving here until that epsilon is dead.”

  “How can you possibly kill a tiny baby, Crisfer? Look at you, you’re not even Unathi anymore. I wonder if you ever were.”

  He snarled and started toward her, but he moved cautiously, possibly remembering their last fight. He aimed a kick at her legs, trying to knock her off her feet, but she jumped back.

  Crisfer snatched up a heavy branch from the ground and swung it at her head with all his strength. Kala threw up her right arm instinctively to deflect it, and heard her bone snap as the stick broke on her arm. She cried out in pain. Glancing down, she saw a shard of bone protruding from her skin, starkly white against the dark blood welling up around it.

  Crisfer dropped the remaining stub of wood and swung his fist at her. She dodged, cradling the injured arm.

  Araka said, I’ll have it fixed in no time, dear heart.

  Kala barely heard him through her pain and intense focus on the fight. If she didn’t win this, the baby would die, and maybe some of the others, too.

  You might have to kill him, Araka warned. Be prepared. Now, play for time while I heal this broken arm.

  She dodged as Crisfer swung again. Over his shoulder, she caught a glimpse of Wilm, Brandon and Victoria watching the fight, the little girl’s eyes wide as she clutched the baby tightly in her arms. Wilm was carefully advancing toward her and Crisfer, gripping the raised tire iron.

  She circled Crisfer again and landed a punch with her good arm, then another, but her blows had nowhere near the force she’d had before the injury.

  Hurry up, Araka.

  Yes, dear.

  Crisfer roared and charged her, head down, and Kala grunted in pain as they hit the ground again. She kneed him hard in the abdomen, but he managed to land on top of her despite the blow. She felt his familiar solid body against hers and had a fleeting sense of the strangeness of being locked together like this—not to love, but to harm one another.

  She gathered her strength and threw him off, using her legs for leverage, then scrambled around and flung herself upon his back as he was trying to rise. She worked her good left arm across his throat, gripping her left wrist with her injured arm and pulling back against his throat as hard as she could. Pain shot through her arm like a bolt of lightning and she cried out, but refused to release her grip. Maybe she could choke him into submission. Maybe she wouldn’t have to kill him.

  Crisfer thrashed around and then rolled over with her in an attempt to knock her off. Her back and legs slammed into rocks and branches, but she clung to him like a leech. He should be running out of air, she thought. His symbiont couldn’t sustain him much longer. Maybe her grip wasn’t tight enough.

  Somehow he made it to his feet and then lurched forward in a controlled dive, throwing her off. She hit the ground hard and let go, stunned. His form was silhouetted against the bright sky as he straddled her and began smashing blows into her face and head with his fists. Pain filled her consciousness, crowding everything else out. The world around her grew distant and dark.

  There was a thud and Crisfer’s weight shifted as he moved out of her field of vision. She saw Wilm standing above her, holding up the tire iron. The scientist moved forward and out of her view, and she heard scuffling sounds.

  You’re all set, dear; get going. I’ll tend to your other injuries now.

  Gritting her teeth, Kala made it to her feet. The world spun and she fought for balance, blinking blood out of her eyes.

  A few feet away, Crisfer and Wilm were locked in a struggle. Crisfer had one hand on Wilm’s iron, trying to wrench it away, but the scientist clung to it stubbornly with both hands. As she watched, Crisfer’s other hand shot out and grasped Wilm’s throat, squeezing.

  Kala raised one foot and with all her strength, planted a kick in Crisfer’s side. He grunted and fell; Wilm lost his balance and staggered back, dropping the iron.

  Kala tried to leap on Crisfer, but he scrambled away a few feet and she landed just behind him, both of them on their knees. She threw her left arm around his upper chest. As he struggled and roared, she brought her right arm around and across his face, seeking a firm hold on his jaw. He reached up and fumbled along her arms, trying to grab her for a throw, but she grimly hung on. Using every last ounce of her remaining strength, she pulled his head sharply around to the left as far as she could.

  She felt his spine give and he sagged in her arms, head lolling to one side. Panting, she lowered him to the ground, where he lay still.

  Quiet descended on the clearing, broken only by Kala’s harsh breathing and Victoria’s whimpering.

  Kala slumped over Crisfer, her body convulsing with fierce sobs. Wilm ran to her and tried to hold her, but she shook him off. She pulled Crisfer’s limp body to her, cradling him as she wept, apologizing to him over and over in Unathi. The others watched helplessly.

  After a time her sobbing subsided, and she lowered Crisfer’s body gently to the ground. Wilm helped her stand and she staggered toward the cabin, pausing when she reached Brandon, who was still lying on the ground, his face white with pain.

  “She’s dead. I’m sorry,” she whispered, then went inside and collapsed on her bunk.

  Sleep now, Araka said. I’ll fix you.

  Through a fog of impending unconsciousness, she heard Brandon’s anguished scream and flinched. You’ll never fix that, she said to her symbiont.

  I’m so very sorry, dear one. Close your eyes now.

  The world went gray and then black.

  Liet’s Journal

  Southern Oregon

  July 17, 2079

  I’m standing in the water up to my knees. It’s peaceful here and the lake is beautiful, but I’m scared out of my wits. It’s taking every ounce of my strength to stay here. To take one step deeper, and then another, and then another.

  I didn’t want to come up here with Crisfer, didn’t want to see what he would do, but most of all I didn’t want to face Kala. Not after what I’ve done. But, as you probably know by now from this journal, I’ve never been able to deny Crisfer anything.

  Now I know what’s been happening to me. I’ve known ever since we left SanFran in the “chopper,” as Crisfer calls it. As I was sitting in the compartment behind him, I tried to reach ahead to Kala with my drones, and they came back with nothing. I sent them out again to see if they could sense anything at all—nothing. I was blind. Then it hit me: I was turning to Xin.

  That explains this terror inside me. It’s not that I’m scared to die; It’s just an overwhelming fear of the lake. I’ve never been afraid of water before, always been a good swimmer, but right now my heart is pounding and I’m shaking, as if I were trying to force myself to walk into a lake of acid.

  The Xin hate water.

  I’m changing mentally, as well. Violent images keep flashing through my head, and strange, paranoid thoughts. No, there’s no doubt. I have to do this now, before it’s too late.

  I cannot believe Crisfer shot that poor girl with a missile. That’s on me, too—none of this would have happened if I hadn’t planted my drones on the Jeep. The fire from the explosion is still burning; I can smell the smoke. This land is so dry, it might keep going forever.

  Crisfer and Kala are probably fighting. One of them is going to die, and I will be the cause of that. Even worse, if I went up there and turned to Xin, she’d have to kill me. I won’t put her through that, and I’m going to make sure I don’t hurt anybody else.

  So this is my last journal entry. Keep it safe and secret, Hub. No one is to see this except me and Kala�
��if she survives and thinks to look for it, that is. I hope she does. I hope she knows how much I loved her and how sorry I am for what I’ve done.

  Just another couple of steps, now—here we go.

  Chapter 24

  BRANDON TRIED AGAIN TO rise, and once again he fell back. His side was on fire, and he had to struggle for each breath. She was gone—his Jennie was gone. A new spasm of sobbing racked his body with pain and his vision darkened for a moment. Wilm hurried over to him with one of his devices and gave him a shot of something that eased the pain. It quickly faded, along with his grief, into the background, like a mild headache. He watched with lack of interest as Wilm disappeared into the cabin to check on Kala.

  Brandon had caught a look at Kala as she had staggered past him into the tent. Her face had been a bloody mess. Her arms and legs were covered with cuts and bruises, and there was a blackened, bloody place on the back of her thigh just below her armor, as if she had been stabbed. She must have landed on a sharp branch or stone during the fight. Even so, she was probably healing already. Like her arm—he had seen the bone sticking out, and then it wasn’t anymore. Once, he wouldn’t have believed his eyes, but now

  Wilm came back out and attached a small device to his shirt. Before he knew it, he was floating in the air about three feet above the ground. Wilm ran another device over him and then wrapped his ribs. “Not too tight, or not healing good,” he said softly. “You will be okay.”

  He gave Brandon more pain medicine and then guided him carefully to his bunk in the cabin. Victoria pulled back the bedding and the device made Brandon sink very gently onto the mattress.

  Wilm took the device off him and left to get some water.

  Kala and Alex were lying on their bunks; Kala was out cold. So it was three invalids in a row, Brandon thought, and felt a strange impulse to laugh. Must be that pain medicine affecting him.