by Alex Siegel
"It would take a huge miracle to make this dream come true." She kissed him on the lips. "Nobody quits the Society and lives. Legionnaires can't get married."
"We're in the miracle business, right? There's always hope."
Chapter Twelve
Norbert walked up to Bethany and Leanna. They were back to working on the aperture, which he hated with a passion. The damn thing was taking his women from him.
"I'm furious at you! How long have you known?" Norbert demanded.
Bethany was using a portable microscope to examine the many small components that made up the aperture. They looked like colorful pieces of candy to him. They were arranged in a mosaic that formed elegant swirls and stripes. Platinum glue held all the pieces together.
"What do you mean?" she said without looking at him.
"When did you decide to leave the universe?"
"Two months ago."
"And you waited until this morning to tell me?" he said in a voice that was louder than he intended. "Did you think I wouldn't care?"
"God told us to keep it a secret."
"Oh." He furrowed his brow. "Really?"
"Yes."
"I see." He took a deep breath.
He was still angry, but he wasn't sure who to be angry at. He couldn't chew out God.
Norbert looked at Leanna. She was studying a computer display that was standing on a small table. The screen showed a dense array of alien symbols arranged in geometric patterns. Divine mathematics, Norbert thought.
"Are you keeping other secrets?" he said.
"Yes," Bethany said.
"Big ones?"
"Yes."
"Will they make me happy or sad?" he asked.
She looked up at him. "I don't know." She turned her attention back to her microscope.
He watched her work. With her crystalline black eyes and metallic skull, she was more robot than woman, but she was still beautiful to him. The thought of her leaving him filled his heart with pain.
"You can't stay in the universe? There is no other way to do this?" he said.
"This is the optimal method."
He sniffed. "Just let me know when it's time to say goodbye."
"I'm confused by that statement," she said.
"You're leaving this world, right?"
"Correct."
"Which means you're leaving me," he stated firmly.
She adjusted the focus on her microscope and remained silent.
He narrowed his eyes. "Is that true or not?"
"We're not permitted to continue this conversation. Please go." Her synthetic voice sounded like computer generated music.
"I just need a yes or no answer. Are you leaving me or not? I'm confused."
Bethany looked at the aperture. The central opening was large enough to admit a full-grown man. Norbert realized he could easily pass through it.
He was suddenly concerned. "No. I'm not going through that thing. Am I?"
"The Voice of Truth will explain when he gets here," she said. "Until then, I really can't talk about it."
His concern became fear. Where Wesley went, chaos usually followed close behind. He wasn't a bad child, but bad things often happened in his presence.
Norbert grimaced. "It's going to get ugly, isn't it?"
"The path to the future is a river of blood. Everybody will have difficult choices to make, including you."
He took a long look at the aperture. "I love you."
"We love you too," Bethany said. "We will forever." The last word sounded like a literal statement of fact.
Aaron leaned out of the kitchen and yelled, "Norbert! There you are. We're having a meeting now."
Norbert jogged to the kitchen. Smythe, Odelia, Tawni, and Sheryl were already seated at the smoked glass table. The legate and her bodyguard stood back. Obviously, they were just observing.
Norbert took his seat.
Aaron pointed at a photo on the table. "This is tonight's objective."
It was a satellite image of the house with the chocolate store. The picture had been taken during the summer when the many large trees were full of leaves. The road in front of the house was narrow, and the pavement was patched with tar. Train tracks ran just behind the garage.
"Your assignment is to gather intelligence," Aaron said. "Avoid engagements. Search both the house and the garage thoroughly. Take some prisoners for interrogation if possible."
"What if they shoot at us, sir?" Sheryl said uncertainly.
"Then shoot back. A legionnaire always has the right to protect herself from harm."
"How will we be equipped, sir?" Smythe said.
Aaron faced his second in command. "Use the good body armor, and bring heavy weapons. Be prepared for a serious fight. You'll almost certainly run into trouble on this assignment. That's why I'm sending everybody. There's no reason to hold back. All we know about this enemy is they have no qualms about turning Chicago into a land of cannibals."
Ethel's phone rang.
She checked the caller ID, frowned, and answered the call. "What is it, dear? Yes, I know all about it. Just relax. Aaron is making great progress in the investigation. Tell the generals to sit on their hands a little longer. There's no need to do anything rash. OK? I love you. Bye." She hung up.
"The President again?" Aaron said.
She nodded. "The military is chomping at the bit to move in."
"I can understand. The body count is climbing fast. Last I heard it was three hundred. It could easily get into the thousands at this rate."
Norbert saw anxiety on the commander's face, which was shocking. Normally, Aaron was the model of calm detachment.
"Dismissed," he said. "Get moving."
The legionnaires left the kitchen.
* * *
Neal walked into the computer room of the Washington headquarters. It had stations for two users, but only one was occupied now. Each station consisted of a ring of computer monitors around a chair which could spin. A wireless keyboard and mouse were attached to each chair. The actual computers were stacked in racks against the back wall, and cables ran along the ceiling.
A tall man sat in the chair. He had a shaved head, a nose ring, and very pale skin. He didn't see much sunlight. A loose sweat suit and flip-flops made him look casual and sloppy, but in reality, Todd had a high-precision brain.
"Any progress?" Neal said.
"A little, sir." Todd referred to one of his monitors. "The USAMRIID employs about 800 scientists and support personnel. They have a great reputation and collaborate with research laboratories all over the world. The commander is a man named Colonel Mason Frist. Their mission is to protect the troops from biological weapons."
"There is a fine line between defense and offense in this case. Go on."
"I researched Captain Mazza. He's the doctor that our friends in Chicago ran into. It turned out he's on vacation."
"What do you mean?" Neal said.
"His family went to Orlando, and he was supposed to go with them. Instead, he took a detour to Chicago. He examined one of the cannibals on his own time and paid all his expenses with cash. He even left his phone off. It was all very covert. Then he went to Orlando to join his family. Have you been following the news, sir? The situation in Chicago is nasty. That team has their hands full."
"We all have our problems. Did you look into Mazza's background?"
"Yes, sir," Todd said. "He's been in the Army for ten years and has a reputation as a brilliant scientist. A lot of his research is top secret. I don't know much about biological weapons, so I didn't understand the details. The papers are very technical. I checked his financials and didn't find anything suspicious. He seems to be a fine American soldier."
His eyelids were drooping, and he was clearly fighting to stay awake. Neal was also having a tough time remaining upright. The recent mission had been a week-long marathon of bloodshed and horror.
"Go to sleep," Neal said. "Be careful on the way home. The streets are slippery."
"Yes, sir."
Todd stood up and shuffled out of the room.
After some thought, Neal took out his phone and called President Roy Haley. The President carried a gray Society phone at all times, and he knew to answer calls immediately regardless of circumstances.
"Neal?" Haley said.
"Yes, it's me."
"Did you finally catch the Butcher?"
Neal looked at his fingernails. "I did. I took care of him personally."
"Thank God! You're a real hero."
"That's not why I'm calling. I'm investigating the Army Medical Research Institute. Our friends in Chicago think one of their scientists might know something about the cannibal disease. I'd like to have a meeting in your office tomorrow morning. Just you, me, and Colonel Mason Frist. He's the commander of the USAMRIID. I think your presence will make him very cooperative."
"Of course," Haley said. "I'll have my secretary set it up. Ethel is in Chicago. I've been talking to her about the horrible situation there. We need to do everything possible to help."
"Understood. I'll see you tomorrow."
Neal hung up. He was amused by Haley referring to the legate by her first name. If Neal did that, she would take his head off.
Dragging his feet, he headed towards his private suite.
* * *
As the weakest member of the team, Sheryl had the privilege of being in the middle of the column. Smythe was leading, followed closely by Odelia. Tawni was behind Sheryl, and Norbert was bringing up the rear.
This was the first time Sheryl had ever worn the "good armor." It was made of thick fibers that reminded her of fishing line. The fibers were woven to form dense, multi-layered mats which still allowed free movement. Triangular plates made of special ceramic covered critical areas and looked like giant fish scales. The armor went from her neck down to her toes.
A sweat suit under the armor protected her skin from the scratchy material. She was also wearing a combat helmet and night vision goggles. A cape with a white and blue camouflage pattern covered everything. In the darkness, she looked like a moving pile of snow.
Her armament was just as serious. She was carrying a SCAR-L assault rifle with a suppressor, which was much bigger than the guns she normally fired. Smaller weapons hung from her utility belt. She even had a few hand grenades.
Sheryl was scared. This wasn't an exercise. Aaron wouldn't have given her this equipment if he hadn't expected her to need it. Even though she had received a lot of combat training in the last several months, she still wasn't comfortable with the idea of engaging in a real firefight. It just wasn't her style.
The team was creeping along the train tracks towards their objective. A thickly forested area was on her left, and a frozen lake was on her right. A smooth blanket of snow covered the ice. It was freezing cold, but Sheryl was sweating under all the heavy gear. Only her face was chilled. A quarter-moon provided just enough light to see the tracks.
"Hey, Odelia," Tawni whispered.
"What?" Odelia replied in a hushed voice.
"Remember that time you absolutely kicked my ass."
"Yes."
"My pride is still stinging," Tawni said. "I want to spar with you again."
"Do we have to discuss this now?"
"I just thought about it. I'll give you a much better fight next time."
"I'm sure," Odelia said.
"I'll probably win. The legate told me I'm as good as some veterans."
Smythe turned and growled, "Hush! Both of you."
Tawni settled down.
The team continued down the tracks until they reached the end of the forest. Smythe waved for everybody to crouch down.
The target house was in view. The walls were made of wood painted white. The footprint was square, and Sheryl estimated from the size that it had three or four bedrooms. The garage was almost as big as the first floor of the house.
She flipped down her night vision goggles and turned them on. Now the night seemed as bright as day, but it was sparkly green. She could see into the darkest shadows easily. Cool, she thought. The only downside was lack of peripheral vision.
Everybody watched in silence for a moment. Aaron had trained them to always be patient and cautious when entering a risky situation. Sheryl didn't see anything suspicious. The winter night was remarkably still and quiet.
Smythe led the team to the back of the garage. There was no door on this side. He tapped Tawni on the arm and pointed at the wall.
Every member of the team carried assault rifles except for her. She held her favorite katana instead, and the blade was covered in inky darkness. Black mist oozed from her hands. She carved a mouse hole out of the wall with no apparent effort. Her sword simply passed through wood and nails. The hole was just big enough for the men to squeeze through. Tawni grabbed the cut-out and set it aside in total silence.
Smythe went into the hole first. He stuck his head through, looked around, and then pulled his body into the garage.
"All clear," he whispered.
One by one, the team entered the garage. It was so dark inside, even the night vision goggles were having trouble getting a clear image.
Sheryl moved slowly through the interior using the barrel of her gun to probe for obstacles. The garage seemed almost empty. There were just some broken shelves, a tool box, and a gasoline can.
The team performed a search anyway.
Finally, Tawni whispered, "Nothing here."
"So it seems," Smythe said. "Let's proceed to the house."
He checked the front door of the garage carefully and then opened it. Sheryl expected him to walk straight over to the house, but he went left instead. Everybody else followed.
When she got outside, she understood. Smythe was following a line of trees that bordered the driveway. Even though the trees had no leaves, they still provided some shadows to hide in. He flowed from one pool of darkness to the next like a master ninja. Odelia and Tawni were just as slippery. Without the night vision goggles, Sheryl would've lost track of them. Norbert's ninja skills weren't quite as polished, but he still did a fine job.
Sheryl did her best to emulate her teammates. She had the advantages of being relatively small and light, but she couldn't even match Norbert's level of silence. She needed to practice more.
The team reached the side of the house in a spot where they had some cover. Sheryl still hadn't heard or seen any sign of trouble. Smythe tapped the wall of the house.
Tawni stepped forward and carved out a door. She sliced solid wood as if it were cotton candy. When she pulled out the chunk of wall, Sheryl saw that Tawni had also cut a steel pipe with electrical wires inside.
The first floor was elevated off the ground, so the team had to climb up to get through the hole. One by one, they entered the house. Norbert offered Sheryl his hand and pulled her up.
She looked around a small bedroom. There was a bed with a plain, wooden frame and an old-fashioned dresser. The mattress didn't have sheets on it.
Smythe continued to lead. Everybody had their weapons ready, and Sheryl did her best to follow the example set by her friends. Her assault rifle was getting heavy in her hands.
The team entered a dining room with a big, black table. The chairs were solid and square. Some television monitors stood on the table, but they were turned off.
Sheryl saw herself in a mirror hanging on a wall. The night vision goggles made her look like a freak. Her white cape blended with the pale skin on her face.
"What now?" Tawni whispered.
Smythe pointed at a staircase. "Odelia, Sheryl, and I will check upstairs," he said in a barely audible voice. "You and Norbert search this floor. Stay sharp."
Everybody nodded.
Smythe started up the stairs, and Odelia followed close behind. Her eyes were scanning her surroundings constantly.
Sheryl put a foot on the bottom step, and the wood creaked. Everybody else glared at her. She ducked her head in embarrassment and remembered
her training. The trick was to shift her weight gradually and use the edges of the steps. Taking two steps at a time made half as much noise.
Eventually, Sheryl reached the top of the staircase. Smythe and Odelia waited for her to join them. There were four doorways, and three were closed. The open door led to a bathroom with an antique, claw-footed bathtub.
Sheryl still hadn't seen or heard any sign of an enemy. She was starting to think the house was empty, and this assignment was a waste of time. In a way, it was a relief.
Smythe carefully opened one of the doors one millimeter at a time. Odelia remained as still as a statue. Sheryl kept her breathing soft and quiet, just as Aaron had taught her.
Smythe slipped into the room, and Odelia was one step behind them. Sheryl listened carefully and then followed.
It was another bedroom. This one had a bed with a tarnished, metal frame and no mattress. The door of the tiny closet was open, and she saw coat hangers inside.
Smythe's phone buzzed softly. He immediately grabbed it and put it against his ear. "What?" he whispered.
Sheryl heard Tawni's voice through the speaker. "Movement outside."
"Where?"
"Everywhere."
A sudden hissing noise made Sheryl look around for the source. She smelled something pungent.
"Gas!" Smythe yelled.
He ran to the window and tried to force it open, but it appeared stuck. He grunted with effort, but the window refused to budge.
The odor was getting stronger. Sheryl realized she needed to hold her breath.
Smythe took a grenade from his belt, pulled the pin, and placed the grenade against the wall. He grabbed Odelia and Sheryl by the hands and yanked them out of the room.
A moment later, the grenade exploded. Fragments flew through the thin walls. One struck Sheryl on the shoulder, but her body armor prevented injury. Still, the impact hurt. The concussion from the explosion stunned her and made her ears ring.
Smythe and Odelia ran back into the bedroom. Without hesitation, they jumped out of the new hole in the wall.
Sheryl followed a little more cautiously. Bright floodlights surrounded the house now, and the glare made her night vision goggles useless. She flipped them up and blinked at the scene outside.
