The Tetra War

by Michael Ryan

  “I’m not sure I like the idea of opening that can of worms,” Callie said.

  “Why not?” Maaly asked.

  “The potential to kill millions of innocents. I’m a soldier, not a baby-killer.”

  “Baby Teds grow up to become soldiers, Callie,” Andrew said with conviction. “I have no problem killing them all. I’ve lost too many friends.” He paused. “You do know there’s a unit going into cities and killing every single Gurt and human they find, right?”

  “That’s got to be an exaggeration,” I said.

  “I believe it,” Maaly said. “I have no problem with killing Teds. Their entire history is one of savagery and cruelty.”

  “They probably feel the same about us,” Callie countered. “Where does it stop?”

  “When they surrender. Or better yet, when they’re wiped out.”

  “That seems harsh.”

  Maaly shrugged. “War’s harsh.”

  “True,” Callie agreed. “But even so, I’m not sure genocide can ever be a solution.” She looked at me. “What do you think?”

  My brow furrowed, and I chose my words like a lawyer. “I’m conflicted over the idea that war can be sanitized. On the one hand, it makes perfect sense to have agreements in place – the usual ‘We won’t bomb your civilians if you don’t bomb ours. We won’t use nerve gas or biologicals if you won’t. We won’t poison your water, infect your livestock, destroy your hospitals, or send terrorists to primary schools to behead children.’ It all makes sense. We’re humans and purvasts. Or a combination,” I said, my conviction lacking, at least to my ear.

  “But?” Callie prompted.

  “But why shouldn’t war be horrible? Why shouldn’t war include anything you can do to the enemy? Exactly when did that happen, where it’s something that only takes place somewhere else, to others? Seems like the whole idea is to desensitize people to the real horror of it. How many would support their government if they had to tend to wounded kids with their arms blown off, or explain to a little girl why mommy’s never coming home again?”

  “They could do those things to us. To our families,” Maaly said.

  “Exactly,” I replied. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was right.”

  “What?”

  “I had…” I thought about the ice, the cold, Juliana’s death. I shivered involuntarily. “What if I’d chosen differently?”

  Callie frowned and gave me side eye. “What are you talking about, Avery? You’re acting kind of weird.”

  I lowered my voice. “What if I told you our side had also developed a viral strain that could start a pandemic?”

  “I’d wonder why Command hasn’t used it yet,” Andrew said. “We could end this war and go home.”

  “Wouldn’t it work in reverse and cause a pandemic among us?” Maaly asked.

  I shook my head. “There was an immunization.”

  “Was?”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just thinking out loud. Never mind. I meant that if a weaponized agent were developed, that the side unleashing it could immunize their own prior to unleashing it on the enemy.”

  Andrew gave me a skeptical look. “It sounded like you know more than you’re saying.”

  “No, I’m just thinking out loud,” I lied. I rose and grinned at my friends. “Let’s go, Callie. We should get some sack time before we deploy. We might end up in our suits for a month.”

  “Night, guys,” Callie said as she stood.

  ~~~

  We made love. Afterward, I couldn’t sleep. After an hour of tossing and turning, Callie shifted beside me and placed a hand on my bare chest.

  “Something’s wrong,” Callie whispered in my ear. “Talk to me.”

  I sighed and shook my head. “I lied.”

  “What?”

  “Tonight at dinner. I lied to Andrew. I…I do know something. Something that haunts me.”

  “Something from the past? Or something you can act on now?”

  I exhaled in frustration and stared at the ceiling. “It’s in the past.”

  “Then why let it bother you now?” she asked. It was a fair question. I couldn’t change the past.

  “It bothers me because I don’t know if I did the right thing.”

  “You always act with honor, Avery.”

  The corners of my mouth pulled down, and I sighed again. “Maybe.”

  “You want to tell me about it?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “I’ve wanted to for a while. I do want to. I will. But…what I’m going to tell you might…it might…change…things between us.”

  She shook her head. “No. Nothing could.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Christ, where do I even start?”

  “At the beginning,” Callie suggested.

  I propped myself up on one elbow and gazed at her in the dark. “I was part of an escort team into the DZ. We were charged with protecting a group of scientists while they collected samples. The region was a neutral zone when we went in. We were five hundred kilometers from the closest military installation, and even that one was tiny.” I took a pained breath before continuing. “We lost everyone. I was the only survivor.”

  “I’m sorry, Avery,” she said, caressing my brow and tracing the lines in my face with her fingers. “This is why you still have nightmares. You can’t keep this bottled up any longer.”

  “I know,” I admitted.

  “So tell me,” she said.

  I swallowed a knot the size of a golf ball. “Be careful what you wish for, Callie.”

  “Don’t worry about me. I can take just about anything.” She smiled in the gloom, her teeth white even in the darkness.

  “I hope so,” I said, and then told her the story that had festered in my soul ever since I’d survived my stretch on a glacier at the end of the world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Nothing is safe from the wrath of a righteous man.

  ~ Russell Blake

  “It was November 17, 2299,” I began. “Like I said, I was on an escort mission that went seriously wrong, and everyone was either dead, or soon would be, except for me and one of the scientists – a Dr. Spencer, who’d taken command of the mission.”

  I paused. Callie poked me in the ribs. “And?”

  “He ordered me to prioritize getting his equipment to him over helping my partner, Juliana, who’d broken her leg. I had no choice but to obey, and when I finished, he ordered me to join him deep in the ice. In a big cavern that was filled with gear and machines – and not just the ones we’d brought.” I paused. “It was obviously some kind of clandestine lab.”

  “In the DZ?”

  “Yup.” I closed my eyes and pictured the scene. “I’ll never forget. I looked at him and demanded an explanation.”

  Callie nodded, waiting for me to continue.

  “He agreed.”

  ~~~

  “Ford, you’re right,” Spencer said. “You do deserve an explanation. Please, sit. I’m going to tell you why we’re here. It’s a secret that will change the course of the war. If we’re successful, we’ll change the histories of two planets and bring about interplanetary peace.”

  I remained standing. “That seems incredible, sir. If that’s true, we’ll need all the help we can get. You have to let me rescue my partner.”

  “She’s already dead, soldier. You need to move on.”

  “Sir…Doctor, she might have lost her leg, but she’s alive. Her suit’s still good. I spoke to her. I just need to–”

  “You’re not listening, soldier. Whether she’s dead at this precise moment is irrelevant. She isn’t going to survive. Neither are we, Private Ford. But we will do our duty.”

  “Sir?”

  “De-suit, soldier. I’m going to make coffee. You’ll need–”

  I interrupted him without thinking. “Sir, I can’t do that. The regulations are clear about it.” He’d just ordered me to violate a standing order – which carried a penalty of death. If I was going to de-suit, there need
ed to be a hell of a lawful and compelling reason.

  His expression softened. “Son, you’re going to have to trust me. I’m ordering you to get out of that suit, and I have the authorization to do so. I’m well aware that your recording gear is capturing every word I say. On the off chance any of us make it, it’ll be clear that I, your direct superior, ordered you out of the suit, and you, being a good and obedient soldier, obeyed.” He eyed me. “Now that’s out of the way, let’s get down to business. I have appropriate attire for you to wear. We have food, water, and heat stockpiled. Now, be a good lad and do as you’re told while I make us some coffee.”

  I watched him walk toward a bank of stainless steel cabinets at the other end of the room. I did a quick scan of our surroundings. We were in what looked suspiciously like a research laboratory – a lab in the middle of the arctic nowhere, somewhere at the bottom of a nameless glacier.

  He wasn’t joking about the coffee. My resolve faded when he switched on the machine and the room filled with the pungent aroma of dark roast. He opened a pantry, switched on a light, and pointed. “You’ll find something your size in there. These are all-weather survival coveralls.”

  I followed him as he walked toward a small kitchen. He opened another drawer and pointed. “Real food. Enough to last us as long as we should need. Now, Avery, get out of that goddamn armor and join me for something to eat. Unless you haven’t had your fill of torched bear meat; in which case, you can watch me eat.”

  He had a point.

  This generation of suit wasn’t as difficult to remove as the later models. It was self-contained, but I was breathing air, and the various bodily function connections weren’t as complex. I quickly double-checked the change-of-command order, and then went through a few applicable pages of the military code stored on my system, and couldn’t find any reason not to follow my new superior’s orders. No doubt that the command was highly unusual, but so was the situation.

  I went through the de-suiting checklist twice and then reluctantly removed my gear. I stood naked on a polar bear skin in front of a wardrobe, the coarse fur of the bear hide plush beneath my feet. It was surreal, like a hallucinatory dream caused by eating something mildly toxic.

  The room wasn’t as cold as I’d expected. The hidden climate control system kept it heated to a reasonable temperature. I remained still for a few moments and studied the cabinets. Seen without the suit’s digital reconstruction filters engaged, the room seemed less sterile. It was almost as though we’d been transported to the science wing of a college campus rather than dropped God knows how deep into the ice. I glanced down at the concrete floor by the door and saw a few scuff marks from rubber soles.

  The lab had clearly been in use for some time.

  Spencer reappeared in the doorway. “Clock’s ticking, young man.”

  “Where are all…the others?” I asked.

  “Others? Oh. You mean the other scientists?” He waved a limp hand, as though the question was of no consequence, some afterthought barely worth mentioning. “Dead. Now get dressed.” He sniffed at the air and cleared his throat. “You’ll find that at least the coffee’s good. Put on some clothes and drink a cup. You’ll feel better after you eat something. Then I’ll explain our mission.”

  I donned one of the all-weather overalls that looked about my size, and pulled on heavy gloves and a knit cap.

  “There are socks and boots in the cabinet to your right,” Spencer said.

  I found a pair of boots that would fit. They were high-tech Sorbliems – seriously expensive footwear. Whatever this place was, it hadn’t lacked funding.

  Once fully dressed, I went to the kitchen, removed the gloves, set them on the six-person dining table near the stove and refrigerator, and made myself a toasted sandwich. The steaming coffee burned my mouth as I gulped it, but I didn’t care. After draining a mug, I refilled it and rummaged in the freezer. My eyes widened at the unimaginable selection of delicacies stacked inside. I selected a precut slice of frozen apple pie and carried it to the mini-oven and stood by it impatiently as I waited for it to warm up.

  Spencer watched me wordlessly from the table, where he was sipping his coffee. “You could get spoiled in here,” he said, with a pained smile.

  “What’s going on, Doctor?”

  “When your pie’s ready, join me over here.” He pointed to a conference table with a Gurliston Lamp-3D Holo-Projector suspended above it in the adjacent chamber. The oven timer pinged, and I removed the piping hot slice and carried it along with my coffee into the other room and took a seat at the table.

  Spencer cleared his throat again and fixed me with a hard stare. “Everything I’m about to tell you is classified under special order twenty-five, subsection B. I’m telling you this because there’s a remote chance you’ll survive. Not much of one, but rules are rules.”

  “You’re not selling this mission very well, Dr. Spencer,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter. There’s a reason you’re here, Avery. Your testing scores, psyche profile, and service record. All of them tell me the same thing: you’re a good soldier. You follow orders.”

  I nodded. “I try to do my job.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Well, this time, that isn’t going to be easy.”

  “It’s the army,” I said. “If it were easy, they’d have idiots and robots doing it.”

  “So they say.” He paused, his expression more morose than moments before. “I’m going to be infecting you with a virus.”

  “A virus?” I repeated.

  He nodded. “The kifo-ukufa virus.”

  “Never heard of it.” I looked down at my plate. Suddenly the slice of pie didn’t seem so appetizing. “Why would I subject myself to being a lab rat?”

  “Because it’s the mission.”

  I took a sip of my coffee to buy time. “What does this virus do?”

  “It’s the pinnacle of killing machines, Avery. An evolutionary masterpiece. The kifo-ukufa virus begins working its magic inside the brain. Purvastian brains, not humans. That’s part of why you’re here.”

  “I’m a quarter purvast,” I said.

  “And that makes it even more beautiful,” he said. “You’re purvast enough to be infected, but the incubation period is longer, roughly twenty-one to twenty-six days. In pure-blooded purvasts, it’s ten to fourteen days.” He considered me. “Another feature of the virus’s deadliness is that there aren’t any symptoms for a week and a half or so, except one. It affects the libido. It makes people crave affection. It turns introverts into extroverts.”

  “So it spreads…”

  “Like wildfire in a dry summer.”

  “Then?”

  “Then the virus begins breaking down the body. Victims bleed from the inside out. From the eyes, the nose, every orifice…and finally the skin separates from the flesh.”

  I grimaced at the mental image.

  “Yes, it’s disgusting,” he continued. “It’s also excruciatingly painful. But in spite of the pain, victims still insist on skin-to-skin contact. They crave it like an unquenchable thirst. If they aren’t isolated and strapped down, a victim will seek out contact with others – even loved ones – and infect them. Even if they know contact will kill them, they can’t stop.”

  “Sounds like a zombie.”

  “Exactly. Like a junkie selling their child into prostitution for a fix, the victim can’t help themselves. Judgment and control are lost. Death soon follows. But here’s the real kicker: the virus is contagious after only forty-eight to seventy-two hours.”

  “With no symptoms present?”

  “Exactly.”

  Dr. Spencer explained that my mission would be to transport kifo-ukufa back to a commercial lab in Mexico City, where it would be used to make a superweapon and vaccine. Transport as in become infected with it.

  I pushed back from the table and glowered at him – I’d heard enough. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to do this. Sorry. But there isn’t a chance in hell I�
�ll play along.”

  He smiled. The effect was chilling. “You don’t have a choice.”

  “I won’t let you. I don’t understand why you think I’d go along with this. The virus isn’t a legal weapon. This whole lab is a violation of international law – I’m more than aware that there’s a treaty against developing bioweapons.” I looked around the room, and then my gaze settled on him. “I’m out of here. I’m going to rescue my partner, and then I’m going up the chain of command. You’re fucking crazy.”

  Spencer smiled again, the expression chilling on his cadaverous face.

  Dizziness hit and the room seemed to tilt. I stumbled, missed when I reached for the table, and fell to the cold floor.

  ~~~

  “You’re awake,” Dr. Spencer said.

  I blinked in confusion and winced at a sharp pain emanating from the side of my head. “Where am I?”

  “In the lab.”

  I tried to remember what had happened. “How long have I been out?”

  “About twenty-eight hours.”

  “I’ve been asleep for a day?”

  He nodded. “You were exhausted.”

  “I’m hungry,” I said, blinking again. Something was wrong, but I wasn’t sure what. Where was Juliana? And why wasn’t I wearing my armor?

  The conversation we’d had before I passed out came back to me. Panic rose in my throat as I remembered my final minutes in the lab. I tried to sit up, but I was strapped to the metal sides of the bed. An IV line was attached to my arm, and a monitor displayed my vital signs with soft beeps. My eyes narrowed to slits. “What have you done?”

  “Avery, you need to think about the mission.”

  “You’ve…”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, son. War is all about sacrificing the young for the good of the people.”

  “Don’t get political on me. You’re a murderer.”

  “How many young Tedesconians have you put down like rats?”

  “That was different,” I objected. “I only killed soldiers who were trying to kill me.”

  “And they were trying to kill you because you were trying to kill them. It’s good as far as circular reasoning goes, but that’s about it.”