The Parliament building—long a hub of politicking and gathering at seemingly all hours—was largely deserted now, except for the Syrian Army soldiers staked out surrounding it. Since the coup, al-Shishakli had been busy consolidating power and meeting with various legislators from an office in the building, and given Syria’s instability, the heavy army presence wasn’t surprising.
Copeland led the way to the checkpoint, speaking in rapid-fire Arabic. After producing their diplomatic passports, they were allowed inside the perimeter. There was a second checkpoint at the doors of the building, and there they were escorted by four armed soldiers up into the highest recesses of the building. Finally, they were frisked in a small office before being led into an opulent meeting room.
“Za’im used to hold court in here,” Frank whispered. “Interesting.”
Adib al-Shishakli was sitting at the end of a long table, a stack of papers on either side of him. A few other military officers were helping him file paperwork, while another pair of armed soldiers covered the other door out of the room. Their presence was announced, and al-Shishakli looked up and gave a tired smile.
“Mr. Copeland,” the new Syrian leader said. “We meet again.”
Copeland smiled and walked over, his hand extended. “Indeed we do, sir. I’m pleased to see you again.”
Al-Shishakli didn’t get up and didn’t shake Copeland’s hand. “Please, all of you, sit. I have tea coming.”
Danny took a chair on al-Shishakli’s left side, with Maggie next to him, while Copeland and Frank sat across. A valet came in with an ornate silver tea set, and there was silence as the tea was poured. Danny shifted in his chair nervously—he was no diplomat and was probably the least important person in the room.
Or so everyone else thought.
“You are different, Mr. Wallace,” al-Shishakli said without preamble. It was a casual statement with no accusation or questioning.
“Sir?”
Al-Shishakli smiled briefly. “That was unfair, but it has been a rare thing to have ‘one up’ on you Americans, as you say. I suppose I should explain.”
Danny cleared his throat. “Perhaps Mr. Copeland and all other nonessential personnel should leave the room?”
The Syrian seemed to consider this a moment, then spoke in rapid-fire Arabic. Immediately, all of al-Shishakli’s aides packed up and walked off, along with all but two of the guards. “Mr. Copeland, I apologize, but it seems as though this matter should be discussed privately. If you’ll excuse us?”
Copeland looked from al-Shishakli to Danny, his mouth slightly open, his eyes wide. Then, without a word, he simply rose and walked out of the room. One of the guards closed the door behind him.
“Now, Mr. Wallace, you are different. You and Mr. Lodge and Miss Dubinsky here,” al-Shishakli said.
Danny looked to Frank, who simply shrugged in disbelief, and to Maggie, who leaned over and whispered in his ear. “He’s calm. Confident,” she said.
After taking a sip of tea to calm his nerves and find the right words, Danny said, “Without confirming or denying anything, sir, I’m curious as to what makes you believe so.”
Al-Shishakli slowly rose from his chair and began walking aimlessly around the room. “As you likely know, I have a ward—a young Bedouin boy. He has been with me for nearly a year and a half now. His father asked me to look after him because of his particular needs. He has an odd affliction, and I sought to gain the support of his father’s tribe for the struggles to come. He has been … more of a problem than I believed, but also a surprising asset.”
“And how can a boy be an asset?” Maggie asked, almost rhetorically.
“He is different, like you. In fact, it is through the thing that makes him different that we discovered your own unique place in the world,” al-Shishakli said.
Variant. Danny took another sip of tea. “And so you used his affliction, as you say, to your benefit.”
“I confess, we tried,” al-Shishakli said. “His father believed him to have the soul of a djinn, one of the ancient spirits that haunt the deserts. He would … leave his body behind and travel to the soul of others. Once inside them, he would assert control, pushing the other soul out for a time.”
Frank sat up and put his tea down. “Za’im. When Za’im got weird … that was your boy.”
Al-Shishakli nodded. “Sami and I backed Husni in his takeover because we felt the President and Parliament were failing the people of Syria, keeping us from asserting our rightful place in this region. But then Husni allied himself too closely with Mr. Copeland and you Americans, and Sami and I feared we would simply become puppets in your Cold War.”
Danny nodded. “And so you had the boy supplant Za’im, forcing him to act more and more erratically.”
“Well, we simply wanted him to act in Syria’s best interests,” al-Shishakli said, shaking his head sadly. “But the boy is still, at heart, just a child. All of Za’im’s excesses were simply the whims of a youngster, a boy’s idea of what leadership should be.”
“And so al-Hinnawi took over and shot Za’im.”
“The boy shot Za’im, using Sami’s hand.”
This hung in the air for several long moments before Maggie spoke up. “You couldn’t control him.”
Al-Shishakli sat down again, slumping in his chair. “The boy, he would move from Husni to Sami, using them to play off one another, like a great game. He would tell Copeland things with Za’im’s mouth, then court Karilov with Sami’s. And I realized, after a time, that his control over Sami was just as awful as before. So, we had to restrain him. I briefly succumbed to his power before he was finally subdued.”
Danny leaned forward. “So, what was it like? His power?”
The Syrian looked hard at Danny before answering. “I do not like to discuss it, but I will, so that you know. When he took over my body, my soul traveled … somewhere else. I could only see a barren white plain, with the souls of others wandering it. Back when the boy was still new and still listening to us, he would describe it as traveling the land of the dead. And he said that certain other souls would stand out while he was traveling. He identified them as you three, plus your Mr. Hooks and Miss Silverman.” Al-Shishakli smiled briefly at the stunned looks in the room. “We have our own intelligence agency, my friends. We know who comes and goes out of our own country. And the boy saw each of you at one point or another.”
And his presence would seem to be displaced when he was bopping around other bodies, Danny thought. That’s why I couldn’t find him! “So, where is this boy now?”
Al-Shishakli looked down at his hands. “He has been sedated. For two weeks now. We feed him through a tube. He wastes away, despite our best efforts. But if we let him awaken, he may take over my body, take over the country, do anything, really.”
Maggie actually looked taken aback, even a little sad—a rarity for her. “I’m sure you didn’t have a lot of great choices,” she said quietly.
“I have horrible choices now,” the Syrian snapped, looking up at her. “I am a soldier and I have seen death, but I cannot consign this boy to die, either slowly, the way he is now, or quickly. And yet here you are, all of you … people. I do not know what you are, what you can do, but I know you work for your government. And only a fool would not assume the Russians would have similar people they are using. And so, once again, Syria is a pawn, this time on a larger chessboard. It is disgusting.”
Another uncomfortable silence descended on the room until Danny, practically ready to jump out of his skin, spoke up again. “I’m sorry, sir. I really am. What would you like to do?”
Al-Shishakli idly shuffled a manila folder around the table in front of him. “I can tell you want him, Mr. Wallace. The boy. You want to take custody of him, to bring him into your … agency or program or whatever it is. Use him, as we tried to use him. This is madness. You cannot use someone with such power.”
“We have the means to subdue his power without harming him,” Danny said q
uickly, putting aside the concerns about the null-generators’ long-term health effects for the moment. “We can help him to understand his ability, use it responsibly if he can. If he can’t, we can at least keep him safe, away from others, where he can’t harm anyone. And we can learn from him. There’s a lot we’re still trying to figure out, but what you told us sounds a lot like what others have reported. Maybe we can figure out how all this happened, how we can bring it under control.”
Al-Shishakli shook his head sadly. “Control. You are always trying to control. But yes, I believe what you’re saying, and I believe you have a genuine concern for those like you, Mr. Wallace. So, I will allow you to take him—but with conditions.”
“Name it.”
“The United States must recognize the legitimacy of my government, but more importantly, I want assurances that Mr. Copeland is done trying to play kingmaker in my country. Send him somewhere else. Anywhere else. I don’t care.”
Frank smiled at this. “Can’t guarantee that, but we’ll certainly make your position crystal clear with the folks in Washington.”
Al-Shishakli nodded. “I also want your assurances that the boy will be well cared for, and not killed if at all possible.”
“Of course,” Danny said.
“Finally, I want you all out of the country tomorrow morning. And any of your kind … I do not want you to return. We know what to look for now, and I promise you, we will be looking. All of the nations here in your ‘Middle East’ have been colonies and puppets for too long. We do not need to be the puppets of people with your abilities as well.”
Danny looked at Maggie again, who raised an eyebrow at him. Might be bluffing on that last bit.
“Understood, sir,” Danny said. “Anything else?”
Al-Shishakli rose, and the Variants followed suit. “There is an ambulance outside. The boy is in it. Take him where you must tonight. Fly him out of the country tomorrow. That is all. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I believe I need to see Mr. Copeland. If you do not wish me to tell your secrets to the world, I suggest you do as I say.”
Danny turned again to Maggie, who had both eyebrows raised. Not a bluff, that.
With a nod toward the new leader of Syria, Danny headed for the door, his fellow Variants behind him. The world had just gotten a whole lot stranger, and a lot more dangerous, he felt, with an independent state like Syria in on the Variant secret.
It wasn’t just about Americans and Russians anymore.
Acknowledgments
First, I would like to thank everyone who bought and enjoyed the first book in this series, MJ-12: Inception, as well as my other work. I get to make stuff up, write it down, and sell it because of you, and I am eternally grateful for it. So many reviewers, fans, and fellow authors have contributed to the success of this series, and all my work, and it’s getting difficult after five novels to list you all out. But I remain thankful for everyone who has ever given me a leg up, a space to write, a kind word, and a stiff drink. I will work hard to pay it back, forward, and sideways whenever possible.
I’d like to thank the folks at Borderlands Books in San Francisco for having me over to help launch the first book in this series. If you like science fiction and fantasy, I strongly urge you to visit them, either in person if you can, or online. The folks at both Phoenix Comicon and Dragon Con in Atlanta also helped immensely in getting the word out on this series, and if you find yourself looking for great cons to go to, I recommend them wholeheartedly.
A special shout-out to the real Christina Vanoverbeke, winner of a prize I sponsored in the raffle benefitting Kids Need to Read at 2016’s Phoenix Comicon. The prize was to have a character in this book named after her—and to give that character a noteworthy death. I can only hope that being unceremoniously shot by a historical villain, and then having a nuclear weapon dropped on her corpse, has sufficed in fulfilling my end of the bargain.
As always, editor Cory Allyn at Night Shade Books has done incredible work in making this book better—and calming this writer’s nerves. And my thanks to Jason Katzman and Brianna Scharfenberg at NSB for all their support as well. Richard Shealy remains the best copyeditor in the business; he’s a big part of why this book makes actual sense.
My agent, Sara Megibow, has been a firm believer in my work, and any alleged talent I may possess, for six years now. She is a most excellent advocate and a lovely person, and I wouldn’t be here without her.
Finally, my wife Kate and daughter Anna needed a little extra patience with me as I wrote this one, and I am especially grateful to them for dealing with a particularly harried version of myself. They continue to make everything in life better. I love you both.
Michael J. Martinez
2017
Also Available from Michael J. Martinez and Night Shade Books
SET SAIL AMONG THE STARS WITH THIS UNCANNY TALE, WHERE ADVENTURE AWAITS AND DIMENSIONS COLLIDE!
Unexplainable earthquakes are disrupting Mars’s trillion-dollar mining operations in 2132, and investigations by Lieutenant Shaila Jain and her team lead to the discovery of a mysterious blue radiation and a three-hundred-year-old journal that is writing itself.
Lieutenant Thomas Weatherby of His Majesty’s Royal Navy is sailing aboard the HMS Daedalus in 1779, a frigate sailing both on the high seas between continents … and across the Solar System, chasing a powerful mystic toward mankind’s faraway colonies and bizarre alien worlds.
What neither Jain nor Weatherby realizes is that their journeys have more in common than either might think, as powerful beings have embarked upon a sinister quest to upset the balance of the planets—the consequences of which may reach far beyond the Solar System, threatening the very fabric of space itself.
THE DAEDALUS INCIDENT
Book One of the
Daedalus Series
Michael J. Martinez
978-1-59780-858-3
Mass Market / $7.99
“Genre bending often comes at great peril, but Martinez pulls it off with an assurance that makes all the pieces slot together perfectly.”
—Buzzfeed.com, “The 14 Greatest Science Fiction
Books of the Year” (2013)
TWO DIMENSIONS … DESTINED TO BECOME ENTANGLED!
Lieutenant Commander Shaila Jain has been given the assignment of her dreams: the first manned mission to Saturn. But there’s unexpected competition from the Chinese when she arrives aboard the survey ship, and one of the planet’s moons, Enceladus, may harbor secrets deep under its icy crust.
For Thomas Weatherby, it’s been nineteen years since he was second lieutenant aboard the HMS Daedalus. Now a captain, Weatherby is in pursuit of an escaped French ship, traveling through the Void of space from Egypt to Saturn, home of the alien race the Xan. Meanwhile, back on Earth, alchemist Andrew Finch has ingratiated himself with Napoleon’s forces … and discovers the true, horrible reason why the French invaded Egypt in the first place.
The thrilling sequel to The Daedalus Incident, The Enceladus Crisis returns to Martinez’s action-packed Daedalus series with two dimensions of steampunk sailing adventure and modern space opera.
THE ENCELADUS CRISIS
Book Two of the
Daedalus Series
Michael J. Martinez
978-1-59780-859-0
Mass Market / $7.99
“Continues the first novel’s mix of alchemy, intrigue, mystery, science fiction, and high adventure … A follow-up that manages to improve on the first.”
—SF Signal
THE FATE OF TWO DIMENSIONS WILL BE DECIDED IN THE ALIEN JUNGLES OF VENUS!
In the year 2135, dangerous alien life-forms freed in the destruction of Saturn’s moon Enceladus are making their way toward Earth. Lieutenant Commander Shaila Jain is scrambling to beat them there, but her crewmember, Stephane Durand, is possessed by an evil being intent on reopening a transdimensional rift and destroying the human race.
In 1809—a Napoleonic era far different from our own—the Frenc
h have occupied England with their Corps Éternel, undead soldiers risen through the darkest Alchemy. But there are rumors that an ancient weapon has been located in the jungles of Venus that could end the war once and for all.
Weatherby must follow the French to the green planet. Jain must decide if it’s possible to save the man she loves, or if he must be sacrificed for the good of two dimensions. On Venus, everything points to all-out war on the alien planet—and past and present will join forces one final time to destroy an ancient terror.
THE VENUSIAN GAMBIT
Book Three of the
Daedalus Series
Michael J. Martinez
978-1-59780-860-6
Mass Market / $7.99
“[Martinez] skillfully handles the intricacies of characterization and the many moving parts, building to the trilogy’s utterly satisfying and quite epic finale.”
—Publishers Weekly, starred review
A COLD WAR-ERA PARANORMAL ESPIONAGE THRILLER FROM ACCLAIMED GENRE-BENDER MICHAEL J. MARTINEZ.
In the aftermath of World War II, the United States and Russia are squaring off in a different kind of conflict, one that’s fought in the shadows, where there are whispers of strange and mysterious developments.
Normal people across the United States have inexplicably gained paranormal abilities. A factory worker can heal the sick and injured. A schoolteacher bends emotions to her will. A car salesman alters matter with a simple touch. A former soldier speaks to the dying and gains their memories as they pass on.
They are the Variants, controlled by a secret government program called MAJESTIC-12 to open a new front in the Cold War. But there are others out there like them, and some have far more malevolent goals …
MJ-12: Inception
Book One of the
MAJESTIC-12 Series
Michael J. Martinez
978-1-59780-899-6
Mass Market / $7.99
MJ-12 Page 34
