Aethon Arises (Endless Fire Book 2)

by R E Kearney

Raising her head and staring directly at the air-cyclist near her, Rita screams. “Me tienes un ojo hinchado (You are driving me crazy)! Te cazaré y arrancaré tus testículos (I will hunt you down and rip off your testicles)!”

  As if responding to Rita’s challenging curse, the air-cyclists separate and slide into positions behind the auto-auto. Slowing, the cyclists slip farther and farther behind. The screaming proximity alarms stop. Finally, silence. They all sigh with relief.

  Rubbing the sides of her head with her hands while flexing her jaw to pop her ears, Zhou questions Rita. “What did you say to force them to stop attacking us?”

  Rita grins. “I simply told them that if they are smart they will go away. Immediately! But…”

  Robert snickers. The universal language translator hidden in his ear informed him that Rita was not nearly as civil and proper as she wants Zhou to believe. In truth, the anger and language of her statement surprised him. Obviously, she can get down and dirty when the situation requires it.

  “…But actually Zhou, I think the fact that we’re nearing Ponce, and those are my friends…you know those friends Robert doesn’t approve of…waiting ahead of us is the real reason those air-cyclists stopped attacking us.” Pointing ahead, Rita aims a verbal jab at Robert. “Sometimes a few friends can be your best protection. Save you from all kinds of trouble. Don’t you think so Zhou? Robert?”

  Robert grins as he de-energizes the specimen bag and sets it on the floor. “Well Rita, you can believe that and sing ‘I get by with a little help from my friends’, like the Beatles sang many, many years ago, all you want. But, personally I am far more thankful for the auto-auto control system’s sense-plan-act loops. Without them, we would be dead now, wrapped around a tree or under water in Rio Descalabrado.”

  “Always the computer’s champion, aren’t you?” Rita grumbles. “Do you really think computers care about our life or death?”

  “It’s certainly a different life or death situation than I expected when we left San Juan before dawn this morning.” Rubbing her shoulder, Zhou straightens in her seat with a groan followed by a muffled burp. “My stomach is in my throat Robert. I need to walk on some solid ground and get steady. Let’s stop.”

  Reluctantly, Robert searches the sky for enforcement drones. “Will they let us in or will they block us like they did in Caguas?”

  “Oh yes! We can definitely get in today Robert. Today is Las Mananitas celebration. In fact if we hurry Zhou, you can settle your stomach at the public breakfast concert at Plaza las Delicias.” Rita excitedly bounces in her seat. “Oh, I hope we sing La Marimorena. It’s one of my favorite Christmas songs and it’s just your type of song too, Robert.”

  “Never heard of it. I don’t believe we sing La Marimor…or whatever you call it…in Canada.”

  “Or China, either.” Zhou adds.

  “Oh, both of you are going to love it. Listen, while I teach you the words. I’ll even sing it in English, well the version I know, anyway. Ok? Now La Marimorena means the Hurly Burly and this is how it goes.” With joy in her voice, Rita begins singing.

  “Tonight it’s Christmas Eve.

  And tomorrow Christmas Day

  Take out the wine skin Mary

  I want to get drunk

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, the hurly burly

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, It’s Christmas Eve

  In the stable of Bethlehem

  The mice have come in

  And poor Saint Joseph

  They’ve gnawed at his pants

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, the hurly burly

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, It’s Christmas Eve

  Here we’ve arrived

  A group of four hundred

  If you want us to sing to you

  Put out four hundred chairs.

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, the hurly burly

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, It’s Christmas Eve

  I’ve been singing for three hours

  Loads of carols

  If you don’t want me to go

  Bring out the Christmas biscuits

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, the hurly burly

  Hurry, hurry, hurry, It’s Christmas Eve”

  Looking perplexed, Robert expresses his doubts about Rita’s Christmas song. “You have a pleasant singing voice Rita, but your song makes no sense to me. It doesn’t rhyme. Although, I must admit I did enjoy the parts about wine and getting drunk.”

  “It sounds better in Spanish and I did sing you the fun version that I learned on the playground after church, but believe me it’s still a Christmas carol.” Rita scolds Robert. “You really need to relax a little Robert. Have some breakfast. Listen to some music. Laugh with my Ponceno friends. Aethon may kill us all, if your big pharma thugs don’t first, so for just a few minutes let’s live. Keep calm Ponce es Ponce.”

  “What’s so special about Ponce?” Zhou asks.

  “Ponce is the pearl of south Puerto Rico. Poncenos say Ponce es Ponce lo demas es parkin.” Rita proudly declares. “Ponce is Ponce, the rest is parking.”

  SECURITY PATROL

  Fear. Stabbing deep into the heart of Puerto Rico is paralyzing fear. Rita’s dream of celebrating Las Mananitas with her Ponce friends vanishes into the silence of Ponce’s streets. No mariachis are singing in Ponce this year. No breakfast is being served at Casa Alcadia de Ponce. Decorations dangle with no celebration. Only the singing of hymns and recitation of prayers for healing slice through this morning’s stillness in Ponce.

  Unlike Caguas, nobody attempts to bar them from departing the throughway and entering the city’s center. Because, nobody is there. Only Rita’s friends accompany them to the Las Mananitas celebration area. Here, where thousands of people should be eating and singing, it is abandoned. Robert directs the auto-auto to set-down in front of the old courthouse.

  Rita’s amigos wave at her and shout hellos, but they do not venture close to her or the auto-auto. They stay safely away. Smiling and waving, Rita steps toward them. They wave cautiously, back farther away, then turn and leave.

  Zhou wobbles out of the vehicle and vomits. Leaning her back against the side of the auto-auto, she slides down onto the pavement. She bends her knees and drops her head between them.

  Stepping out onto the pavement of Calle Villa, Robert stretches and slowly turns in a circle. He is searching the scenery. He fails to see that he is seen.

  “He’s taller than I remember…quite handsome.” One of the two, observing air-cyclists comments as she peers through her electro digital optics.

  “How can you forget how tall he is? That’s how we were caught. We couldn’t fit him into our vehicle, because he’s so tall,” grouses her male partner.

  The dark haired female air-cyclist hiding among trees on Plaza Ponce scolds him. “Look how sick you made Zhou. I think you were a little too rough on them Albern. Almost running them into trees and a river, after all. That was a little unnecessary. Don’t you think?”

  “Oh, she’ll recover, Faul. Better she is a little sick now than dead later.” With a smirk, Albern congratulates himself. “I believe I shook them up just enough to wake them up. They need to be more on guard.”

  As Robert examines the scratches their trip through the bushes affixed to the glider, Rita assists Zhou. Administering a slight tug here followed by a light tap there, Robert determines that the glider’s tough graphene sustained only cosmetic damage. He heaves a sigh of relief, straightens and leans against the auto-auto’s aerodynamic side. None of them wander from the safety of their glider.

  “You told me that Deacon Evoil is supposedly sending three SS Order of Sicarii assassins. Do you think they’re here?” Faul apprehensively scans her surroundings.

  Just as she fears, she spies two men lurking in the shadows of Calle Amor. A quick scan of their identical, uniform-like clothes informs her they are not Puerto Rican and their skulking reveals they are definitely not innocent visitors. She nudges Albern and directs his attention to t
he two men. “Are they watching them or are they watching us watching them?”

  Through her optics, Faul detects that the interest of the two men is split. One man is focusing on Robert’s group. The other man is pivoting his attention between Albern and Faul, and the three others.

  “Do you think those two are members of Evoil’s three, Albern?” Faul records visuals of the men. “Do you think Evoil may have ordered them to eliminate us along with Goodfellow and Shengwu?”

  “You could be correct. Evoil is volatile…and unpredictable. He was furious that we failed and were arrested. He threatened me that there would be consequences, if we didn’t stay away. I think he is a brother of Satan.” Feeling Faul’s fear, Albern contemplates their getaway. “I believe we should start moving so we’re not easy targets if they’re coming after us.”

  “What about them?” Faul motions toward Robert and his partners.

  “Proverbs tells us that the prudent sees danger and hides himself, but the simple go on and suffer for it. I suggest we be prudent Faul,” Albern whispers.

  Now silent, Albern watchfully begins creeping out of Plaza Ponce toward his waiting air-cycle. He motions for Faul to follow. She turns and hurries past him. He finds her impatiently mounted and raring to go when he arrives.

  “Ok, let’s buzz them on our way out. We can’t tell them about those two, but we need them to remain stressed and edgy. Alarmed is well armed.” Albern directs Faul as he pulls on his air-cycle’s Guidance control helmet.

  “Then what?”

  “According to Rita’s intercepted communications, they’re going to the La Parguera Nature Preserve. Only passageway two goes from here to there. So we’ll ride out of their sight ahead of them. Run interference, you might say.” Albern mounts his air-cycle and energizes it.

  Faul energizes her air-cycle and adjusts her helmet. “What do we do if those are Evoil’s men? What if they attack? What’s your plan then?”

  “Improvise, ad-lib and trust in God. That’s always my plan. My only plan.” Albern transmits directions from his helmet to Faul’s helmet, as he maneuvers his air-cycle for his assault. “Now follow me. Be loud and menacing. Charge at them.”

  Kneeling on her air-cycle, Faul poses herself to terrify. “I shall warn them of the evil with the sounds of glory. My speakers will blast them with Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus.”

  Albern jams his air-cycle forward. “Let’s roar!”

  SEEKING DEATH FRUIT

  Never before has Robert beheld such stunningly exquisite blue water. His eyes dive deep drowning his senses in the bay’s beauty. Sailing upon the serene bay his thoughts are gliding atop the dancing waters of the Gulf when Arthur C. Clarke’s words surface in his drifting mind and dribble out as a mumble. “How inappropriate to call this planet Earth when it is quite clearly Ocean.”

  “Enchanting view, isn’t it.” Rita declares as she steps to his side shattering his musing.

  “Oh yes, and much more. These waters are as intensely blue as a Lapis Lazuli gemstone.” Robert cannot drag his eyes ashore. “Contemplating these waters, I now understand why the Romans believed Lapis Lazuli blue to be a powerful aphrodisiac and a strong medicine thought to keep the limbs healthy and free the soul from error, envy and fear. And, those green islands speckle the bay like the gem’s brassy pyrite mottling.”

  “Lapis Lazuli? Never heard of it.” Rita inquires, curious.

  “I first saw it when I was serving in Afghanistan. I bought several stones. Like this bay, they’re mesmerizingly beautiful.”

  “Beautiful or not, you’re not going to find that Manchineel tree medicine you want in these waters.” Interrupts a deeply tanned, weather-beaten, barrel-chested man, as he joins Robert and Rita. “We’re sailing my boat inland, deep into the Mangrove swamps where I’ve seen some native Manchineels.”

  Pale and wobbly, Zhou shuffles into their conversation. “I certainly hope your boat ride is less perilous than our glider ride here. Two air-cycle riders attacked us along passageway 52 and then again in Ponce. In the middle of Ponce! Came roaring at us like some crazed demons. Extremely frightening.”

  “Yes, but I believe their ride of terror ended in Guanicas. Sorry, I know you and Rita don’t agree with me. But, I still think that I saw those same air-cycles burning in that transporter wreckage outside the Bayer bio tech facility.” Robert adds with a touch of anger. “I know what I saw!”

  “Me tienes un lado seco (You’re making me crazy)! Let it go. It was just an accident.” Rita chides him.

  “Accidents no longer exist! Computerized auto-autos and air-bikes won’t collide like that without human interference.” Robert argues. “When humans crash into each other, either they meant to or they just made illogical decisions. Give me a logical robot over a bungling human any day.”

  “Ok Robert, you saw something or you think you saw something in that fiery mess. But we didn’t.” Rita hurries to change the subject. “This is my cousin Guia. He’s our guide. We’re searching for the trees using his diving charter boat.”

  Surveying the marina, Robert notices that the docks are filled with empty, waiting, charter boats. “There’s many boats here. Which of them is your boat? I’d like to get aboard and get started.”

  “Actually, those three are mine.” Guia points toward three different sized boats moored along his private pier. “Normally, they would be out by now, but my charters are down. Everybody’s charters are down thanks to fear of this Aethon thing.”

  “That’s good and bad for us. Fewer tourists mean less interference and less questions from the curious. But, that also means we are far too noticeable.” Concerned about them being too visible to adversaries, Robert is increasingly impatient to shove off. Carrying their sampling equipment, he leaves the others and begins walking toward the boats.

  Lugging their own bags and equipment, Rita and Zhou fall in step far behind him with Guia trotting to get in front. Jogging into the lead, Guia directs them to a shallow-draft, open, battery-powered, twenty-five foot dinghy rigged for scuba diving. He jumps into his boat and then assists them and their equipment aboard. Working quickly, he energizes his boat’s motors, casts off and is underway into the bay before his passengers find their seats.

  Having enjoyed countless hours swimming and boating here, Rita is surprised to see the docks so uninhabited. No fishermen. No snorkelers. Just as Guia predicted, they pass empty charter boat after empty charter boat. Their wake gently rocks them in their moorings. The bay is so empty that Rita hears the boats squeak when they rub against the piers.

  As they cruise ahead, the bright sun dances across Rita’s face and into her eyes. Blinking and shading her eyes, she struggles to see. Sun blind, she thinks she sees the silhouettes of four men hurrying toward the piers. After her digitized eye lenses adjust to reduce the ultraviolet and visible light, she blinks and looks again. They are gone. She is not certain that she saw what she saw. Probably just some locals, she imagines.

  Away from the docks now, Guia accelerates. Clutching the boat’s railing, Rita enjoys the cooling breeze, smell of the sea and her view of the verdant, reef islands they will pass heading out of the bay. She focuses her attention forward, missing the ascent of a small surveillance drone above the pier where the silhouettes of the men had appeared and disappeared. Hiding in the sun, the drone trails Guia’s boat.

  At the edge of the bay, Guia steers starboard surprising Rita. “Aren’t we going to Bahia Fosforescente?”

  “No Manzanillo left there. All of them were removed years ago. Too dangerous for tourists. We’re heading to the Punta Pitahaya area. We should find some Manzanillo there. We may also search in the Boqueroon wildlife refuge.” Guia explains as he steers them around some waterway buoys. “It will take some time for us to get there, so just sit back and relax. Enjoy the ride.”

  Rita follows his advice. She stretches across a wood bench, yawns and is soon snoring. Her concerns are few. Her rest is easy.

 
Zhou and Robert do not rest. Both engage their PCDs and begin working. Robert connects to his messages while Zhou contacts her researchers at the Instituto. There is no escape from obligation.

  Two messages from SPEA greet Robert. The first from Pion is good news. She reports finding no subsequent intrusions or hacking attempts of the data stream between Shengwu and SPEA. He smiles with personal satisfaction, because he knows it is his vigilant, security program that is successfully defending Shengwu’s communications. But, at the same time, Robert is troubled. His success is also his failure. He understands that big pharma has not changed its intent, only its tactics. Because of his cybersecurity program, big pharma is rejecting hacking for physical violence.

  Robert’s second message is also from SPEA. It is a mysterious message from his friendly tormentor, Mugavus Komfort. She is insisting on a covert rendezvous in a public place - a lechonera in the town of Cayey. The exact date and time of their rendezvous will be sent in a separate message, she communicates. She instructs him to buy lunch and eat it at the farthest table in the rear of the lechonera. Mugavus ends her message by dictating to Robert. “Be a tourist, but be on-guard. Don’t look for me. I will find you.”

  For a brief moment, Robert considers requesting more information from Mugavus, but he remembers from experience that she told him all she is going to tell him in her initial message. Mugavus still follows many of the protocols she learned when she was a military intelligence officer in Estonia. She is trained to tell nobody nothing more than necessary. Frustrating as she is, Robert trusts her completely. More than once, he has trusted her with his life. If he needs to know, she will tell him. If he doesn’t then she won’t.

  Wondering if Shengwu is progressing in her genome editing fight against Aethon, Robert accesses the data flow from Stamina Vitae to SPEA. Many of the algorithms and other information transmissions are familiar. Shengwu has used them before. But, as he works his way backward through the data packets from recent transmissions to earlier transmissions, he discovers a radically different group of algorithms. The transmitting of these distinctive algorithm packets began shortly after midnight and ended at two ten this morning. Robert also notices their coding is different. Thanks to his NATO and Coalition experience of working with the US military, he recognizes that the coding is similar to that used by the US Department of Defense, but not exactly. Something in the coding technique is familiar, yet different. He is studying one of the packets when his concentration is shattered.