by S. T. Boston
Finch relaxed a little; despite all that had gone on, he'd managed to secure the one thing Buer had desired most; capturing the girl had also led to him learning the location of the Tabut.
“All that aside, Robert, your mistakes cannot go unpunished.”
Finch tensed up again. Surely Buer couldn't be that angry, even though the girl was still alive they undoubtedly had the upper hand and that was solely down to him. Before he had time to put his side of the argument across, Buer shot his arm out and grabbed Finch's shirt, pulling him forward in one powerful movement, popping several buttons off his shirt as he went. With Finch's feet scrabbling for purchase, Buer dragged his struggling body through to the living room and slammed him down hard onto the coffee table which still held the unfinished game of cards. The wooden legs immediately gave way with a splintering crack, sending Finch and the cards crashing to the floor. Finch suppressed the urge to beg Buer to stop; he couldn't seem weak; it was best to just take what was coming.
“I think your mistakes come from your overconfidence,” Buer growled, pinning him to the broken table top, his eyes wild with fury. “What you need is a little something to focus your mind, something to stop you from taking your eye off the ball.” With his spare hand Buer reached into his shirt pocket and took out a small silver metallic disk, no bigger than a guitar plectrum.
“No, please!” cried Finch, deciding that if he was going to beg, now was the time to start – he knew exactly what the disc was for. The Gift had saved his life more than once in the last twenty-four hours, and he didn't want to give it up without a fight. Attempts to fend off Buer's assault were nothing more than futile and just delayed the inevitable. With a fist of steel, Buer drove down hard into Finch's gut, knocking all the air from his lungs. The blow instantly halted Finch's struggle, as he gasped for breath. Buer flipped the disc over in his fingers like a magician with a coin, and all Finch could do was watch through wide, tear-filled eyes. With amazing dexterity, he flipped the disc around and held it between his thumb and forefinger before pushing it down hard onto Finch's forehead. As the disc made contact with his skin, a series of small, pin-sharp prongs sprung out around its circumference. Within a second they had secured themselves into his flesh, like a microchip on a circuit board. Even if he had the strength to struggle, it was already too late. Gasping to regain his breath a jolt of electricity passed through his entire body, and he convulsed momentarily like a heart attack victim being treated with a defibrillator. The charge instantly deactivated and killed the billions of microscopic Nanobots in his body. In less than a second, he'd been returned to mortality. As the pain of the shock gradually subsided, the small pins retracted. Laying still and powerless on the broken table, his heart pounded and sweat dripped off his brow as he watched Buer remove the disc and slip it back into his pocket.
“This is only temporary,” said Buer, his voice calmer and almost apologetic. It was frightening how quickly his demeanour and mood could change. “You need to focus, Robert. Once we have completed our task, I will make sure you're given back what I've just taken.” Buer stood up and his full height appeared mountainous from Finch's sprawled out position on the floor. Much to his surprise, Buer even offered a supporting hand to help him up; begrudgingly and a little warily he took it. “We still have much to do,” he continued, as Finch tried to dust down the wrecked and dishevelled suit. It seemed as if he'd been wearing it for a week. “I'm taking the Explorer to Colorado Springs Airport to meet Mitchell. You can come with me, seeing as you don't have any transport now. He's arranging for one of our jets to come over from Allentown. As soon as it arrives and refuels, we leave for Egypt. In less than twenty-four hours the virus will start to appear, and we need to make sure we get there before they close the airports.”
“Do you think they'll try to recover the Key Tablet?” croaked Finch, watching Buer cautiously as if he were a rabid dog.
“Oh, I'm almost counting on it,” replied Buer. “Which is why I'm keen to get out of the country as soon as possible. I doubt that's the last we have seen from our three friends. When I took the information from Oriyanna it also gave her access to my mind. She knows exactly what we are planning—” An incoming phone call cut him off. Instantly, Buer fished the handset from his pocket. Finch listened to as much of the conversation as he could – it sounded like Mitchell's voice on the line. He rubbed the circular scratches on his forehead caused by the pins; the small injury was scabbing over and itching like crazy. Without The Gift to repair the damage, he'd be left with a ridiculous looking mark for a good few days. “That was Mitchell,” said Buer, ending the call, “he's just heard from the team taking care of Oriyanna's contact in Austin.”
“And?” asked Finch, trying to ignore the prickly sensation on his forehead.
“The house was empty but they found a panic room on the first floor, they believe he was inside but they couldn't confirm it. The house has been destroyed, if he was in there he's dead, but I'm not taking anything for granted. She could have easily been in contact with him before they arrived.” Buer paced through to the bedroom and retrieved his briefcase. “We need to get moving, that jet will be arriving in the next few hours. If you're lucky, you might even get to shower and change on the way to Cairo, you're starting to stink worse than poor old Roddick.”
* * *
Vacantly, Adam watched the elderly waitress in a pink pinny balance two oversized plates of burger and fries away from the serving hatch and across the busy diner. Despite it only being just after nine AM, someone was about to tuck into a meal bigger than he could manage for dinner.
“So, how long do we have before this virus appears?” he asked Oriyanna, before forking a heaped pile of scrambled eggs into his mouth. He didn't feel much like eating, but the lack of food over the last day was making him feel rough, the dull aching pain from his head injury still at work. The two pain killers he'd necked a half hour ago had done nothing but take the edge off a little. The wound had healed, leaving a nasty scab he was constantly fighting the urge to pick at.
“I'm not sure,” Oriyanna replied, staring at her half empty glass of orange juice, “twelve hours or so, a day at best.”
“I need to phone Lucie,” Adam sighed. “I need to warn her!” He pushed his half eaten breakfast away and reached for the basic prepay mobile that Sam had bought half an hour ago from the local hypermarket. Having purchased a phone, toiletries and some more clothes for Oriyanna, they'd all headed to the large disabled toilet at the back of the store. Taking turns at the sink they'd managed to get a pretty decent wash, although a shower was what each of them really needed. A bit of soap, deodorant and a quick brush of the teeth with a change of clothes had been better than nothing. Sam had also expertly dressed the small wound on Adam's arm caused by the one shot which had hit him; thankfully it hurt worse than it actually was. Allowing Oriyanna some privacy, they'd both turned to face the wall while she washed and changed into a new pair of faded blue jeans and a white, lightweight sweater. Her latest gunshot wound had healed before they'd even arrived in Canon City, much to the continued amazement of Sam.
“I need you to keep the line clear,” she said, reaching over and taking his hand. “Once Xavier has phoned back you can call your sister.” Her touch instantly relaxed him, but as soon as she removed her hand the panic and dread began to return. He wanted badly to take hold of her hand again, not only to make him feel better; he wanted to feel the way he had back on the imaginary beach when she'd been inside his head. Oriyanna sensed the longing in him and offered up a weak smile as a consolation.
“So who is this Buer guy?” asked Sam, breaking the somewhat awkward silence. Adam pulled his plate back and tried to force down some more breakfast.
Oriyanna switched her attention to Sam. “Back before the war,” she began, thankful for the interruption, “when we first returned to Earth, he worked with me. I think he was in charge of the second or third team to come here,” she said, swilling the remainder of her orange juice ar
ound the glass. “When things changed he became one of the main figureheads for the resistance against the Earth-Humans. Toward the end of the war, many of their Elders were killed in the bombing of Sheol. He was one of the survivors. He's not the head of their people, but he will be high up in the order of things and definitely the one in charge here at the moment.”
“But the guy who took us, Robert Finch, he had the same healing abilities you do, yet you say you don't know him?” Adam cut in. He'd been amazed to learn in the car that the guy who'd abducted them both and chased them from the rundown lodge was the same guy who'd been the head of President Remy's Secret Service Team.
“No, I have never seen him before. Over the years they have obviously replicated the technologies we possess on Arkkadia. I didn't get much from Buer except for the details of what they're planning, but from the little information about Robert Finch I did manage to retrieve, I believe he was born here on Earth. I suspect he would be one of many, bred especially for the task. It's the most logical explanation as to how they managed to operate unnoticed; the events that are unfolding now were put into motion decades ago.”
Adam nodded, thoughtfully chewing his breakfast, “And Xavier, is he as old as you?” he asked after forcing down a mouthful of slightly overcooked bacon.
“No, nowhere near,” she smiled. “Anyone who becomes a Watcher was never around before the Great War, they would be too easy for the likes of Buer to uncover. Almost all of those who become Watchers are given The Gift as part of the role. As I said before, The Gift is only given to those who do a great service or offer great personal sacrifice for the betterment or good of our people.” Oriyanna knocked back the rest of her drink, wincing slightly at the acidity. “It's been a long time since I had an orange,” she added, “they remind me very much of a fruit we have back home.” She placed the empty glass back onto the table and eyed Adam's full glass; he pushed it over to her, not feeling much like the drinking it anyway.
“So, how many are there like you?” asked Sam. Despite all they'd been through, he realized he still knew very little about her.
“Around ten thousand now,” Oriyanna began, tucking into the fresh drink. “Very few in comparison to our total population, which is just under four billion. The majority of our people tend to live for around one hundred of your Earth years. Your genetics have evolved to be the same as ours, over the last few centuries we have seen that Earth-Humans are living longer and longer.” Adam pushed the plate away for a second time as the sound of smashing crockery came from the kitchen. The loud noise made them all jump.
“Are you finished with that?” asked Sam, eyeing up the remaining food.
“Yeah. I don't know how you can feel like eating at a time like this,” Adam pointed out.
“I don't really feel like it; just don't want to waste the food.” Sam grabbed the plate and began squeezing ketchup onto the remainder of Adam's cold scrambled eggs. “You should have eaten more as well,” he said to Oriyanna through a mouthful of food.
“I'm fine,” she replied, “those sandwich things you had in the car weren't too bad. The phone suddenly lit up and played a very annoying tinny ringtone that for some reason, none of them had been able to change. The ringing phone earned them a few disgruntled looks from a family on the next table, as Oriyanna snapped it up and struggled to work out how to answer it. In the end Sam snatched it out of her hand and pressed the antiquated answer button before handing it back to her. He and Adam both sat watching pensively, trying to get the gist of the conversation taking place. There wasn't much talking from Oriyanna, she listened intently to Xavier, her eyes wide and staring past Adam, fixed somewhere in the middle distance. After a few very long minutes, she placed the handset back on the table.
“Well?” asked Sam, raising his eyebrows.
“We need to get to Albuquerque; Xavier has booked three tickets for us to Cairo, via New York.”
“Albuquerque!” exclaimed Sam. “How far is that?”
“About five hours from here,” she replied, “you do know how to get there, don't you?”
“No, not a clue; in case you forgot, I'm not a local. We were meant to be on holiday.”
“It's okay,” Adam cut in, getting to his feet with the phone clasped tightly in his hand. “We'll find it. When do we need to leave?”
“Now,” she said urgently.
“Give me two minutes, I need to phone Lucie. I want to do it outside on my own, if that's alright?”
“Sure,” said Oriyanna, smiling sympathetically, “but please, be as fast as you can, we can't miss the flight.” She watched Adam head for the door, side-stepping around an unruly child dressed in a bright yellow Mickey Mouse jumper. The young boy was running riot, and weaving around other peoples' tables. “So, do you have anyone back home you need to call, Samuel?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Not really, I never knew my parents. I got passed from pillar to post as a child and lived with more foster families than I care to remember. Adam is about the closest thing to family I've ever had.” Sam gazed around the busy diner, it was packed with people from all walks of life, innocently grabbing a Sunday morning breakfast before heading out for the day, all totally oblivious to the tragedy that was about to strike. He found himself wondering how many of them would die, how many loved ones would be lost. He fought the urge to jump up on the table and scream at them all to go home and lock their doors; sometimes there was a lot to be said for ignorance. He started to think about the simulated forecasts he'd seen during his army days, they looked at how quickly a highly-contagious disease could spread through the population. The results for some of the nastier man-made viral agents were horrifying; he didn't even want to consider how much worse this alien strain might be. Even if they managed to reach the Tabut, and Oriyanna could stop the virus, the death toll would be massive. In military terms they were now on damage limitation, and it was never a good position to be in.
“What about you?” he asked, taking the spotlight off his disjointed life and forcing the grim thoughts to the back of his head. “You must have friends and family back home.”
“Not really,” she replied a little distantly. “My parents died thousands of years ago; I can't expect you to understand what life is like for my kind. Although we are genetically almost identical, our culture is very different from yours.”
“Must get a bit lonely. You know, being practically frozen in time like you are.”
“It can be, yes. I think it's impossible for you to grasp what it's like to have lived for as long as I have. Normal human life is so brief, it's no more than the blink of an eye. I have seen so many things, so many changes. Both our worlds have turned many times to bring us to this point. If these are destined to be my final days, then so be it, but I won't be going down without a fight.” She offered Sam a slightly uncomfortable smile that said she wasn't as brave as she was trying to sound. Underneath her ancient and tough exterior, she was still little more than a frightened girl.
“So, is Xavier safe then?” he asked, changing the subject. He could sense her unwillingness to delve too far into her personal affairs.
“No, not really. Three men turned up and tried to kill him about twenty minutes after I called, I just reached him in time.”
“He got away though, right?” asked Sam. “Didn't you just speak to him?”
“Only just; they thought he was hiding in the house so they blew it up. He is meeting us in Cairo,” she said bluntly.
“You said he booked three tickets?”
“Yes, why?”
“I was wondering if we would be coming with you.”
“You don't want to?” asked Oriyanna, her voice full of concern. “Both of you have saved my life more than once now. I can't think of two people I'd rather have with me through all this.”
“It's okay, I'm more than fine with seeing this thing through. I know Adam would go with you, even if I didn't. What else are we meant to do? Just sit around and wait to die?”
&n
bsp; “Thank you,” she said gratefully, smiling in relief.
“Do you really think we can do this?” he asked, keeping an eye on Adam on the phone outside; he was pacing up and down the pavement beside the diner, the phone glued to his ear. Sam wondered how he could even begin to approach the subject with Lucie. What the hell would you say? Oh, hi sis, yeah we're having a great time here in the States – oh and by the way, there's a deadly plague about to strike so you might want to lock up the doors and windows, see you when and if we get back! It certainly wasn't a call he would want to make.
“There is a chance, albeit a slim one,” she replied flatly. Through the window she watched as Adam ended the call. He didn't head back inside; instead he just stood there, looking out across the car park. “We need to get going,” she said, standing up and heading for the door. Sam followed behind, stopping at the counter to pay for their food before following her outside. Adam was still standing in the same spot, deep in thought.
“Did you speak to her?” asked Sam, placing a hand on his shoulder. Adam flinched slightly as the touch snapped him from his thoughts. His eyes looked red, as if he'd been trying not to cry. Sam knew that if Adam lost his sister, he'd be almost as devoid of family as Sam was, and it wasn't a nice way to be.
“Yeah, I woke her up, I didn't even think of the time difference. She was trying to sleep before she goes to work tonight.”
“And? Did she think you were crazy?” asked Sam, trying to keep his voice as positive as he could.
“At first she thought I was joking, then she thought I was purposely trying to scare her. I think in the end she believed me, but I'm not sure.” Adam had a puzzled expression on his face, as if he were still trying to figure it all out himself. “I told her to stay inside and keep an eye on the news. I asked her to seal up all the doors and windows as well.”
“Well done, that's just what she needs to do,” said Sam encouragingly, “I just hope it's not too late, I mean, this thing could be all around us now, we could even—”
