The young woman’s stare dimmed in the mirror, the spark of light fluttering like a candle in the wind. Beatrice threw the rag into the waste basket, leaving part of the mirror as it was. She’d had enough bad thoughts for the day, nay, for the entire week. She needed to clear her mind.
Storming out of the bathroom, she made her way up the short hallway, stepping over a soggy cushion Foxy had chosen fit to abandon. Entering her bedroom, she was momentarily surprised by the mess at hand.
What the blazes?
Then she remembered.
She had omitted to clean for a whole week, an experiment to see if the clutter would drive her nuts.
The experiment was, indeed, a success: she couldn’t stand it. At once, she picked up the clothes, the empty bottles of wine, the torn bags of chips, the dirty dishes. Like a twister under directives, she spun into each corner of the room and cleaned, straightened, tidied. Foxy, hearing the racket from the living room, pointed her nose in the doorway but one raised finger from Beatrice had her retreat at once, tail between her legs. The noise continued for a good hour before Beatrice walked out, wiping her hands with satisfaction.
Now that her room was back in order, it was time to move on to the rest of the house. She strolled into the living room. Foxy sat with a leach clutched in her jaw, a foot away from the front door.
There goes my get-up-and-go.
She stared at the Sheltie. It was true she had neglected her while she wallowed in bed and drank too much.
“You’re right, girl. Time to go for a real walk for a change.”
The dog’s tail whacked with enthusiasm against the legs of a side table.
“What do you think?”
The tail wagged even more frantically.
“Okay. Give me a minute to get pretty.”
There was a long uninterrupted string of whimpers.
Beatrice grinned. “Just kidding.” She flung open the door to the cramped closet and fished out her parka from between the other, less in season, jackets. Even though spring was right around the corner, it was still cold in Sitka, with temperatures barely above freezing. She spotted Foxy’s own outdoor coat and grabbed it. It was an azure-blue that looked quite striking on her and she wondered why she’d forgotten all about it.
“Damn alien invasion,” she muttered under her breath.
Foxy ambled forward and let herself be zipped up, tail swinging. Beatrice straightened, admiring her handiwork. “You look good, girl!”
Yap!
Beatrice smiled at the dog, the swirl of dark thoughts crowding her mind momentarily left behind.
“Ready?”
Foxy yelped once, then turned to the door. For a second, Beatrice hesitated, her hand frozen to the doorknob. The sensation passed and she opened the door. A wash of light penetrated the gloom of the house, making her squint. She realized she had kept the shades drawn even though it was in the afternoon, something she’d never done before.
“Come on, Foxy.”
The dog ran past her and bounced down the short staircase in two easy hops.
“Hey! Wait for me!”
The Sheltie yelped, twirling about excitedly. Beatrice shook her head as she ambled out of the driveway, walking past the dog. “Jesus! You behave as if you’ve never been outside!”
The sun was a pale disk in the blueish-gray sky as heavy clouds moved about, gigantic icebergs in the azure. Beatrice slipped her gloves on and followed the Sheltie, hugging the side of the road she knew so well. As usual, there wasn’t much traffic on Shotgun Drive; in fact, there never was. Sitka wasn’t exactly a busy city, even for Alaska. It was an item you ticked off a list, while in transit between vastly more interesting places. Still, it was her home now, for better or worse.
For better or for worse.
She had lived enough worse for a lifetime. It was time for better to pop back into her life.
Climbing over a short hill, she made her way to the trail that snaked its way into the woods, the houses left behind as if by magic. It only took a few seconds to leave civilization behind and drop right-smack into nature. Here, the majestic forest reigned supreme, as it had done so for billions of years. As she watched Foxy cavort on the trail, jumping up to catch the occasional flake drifting in the breeze, she was taken by the surrounding serenity. The woods were calm, peaceful even. Here, she could let herself be transported, swept away by the sights of the great hemlocks and the scent of the pines, by the deers and raccoons, by the ferns and streams that accompanied her contemplative mood. It felt good to be outside, to be part of a greater whole, as if the land was her’s to enjoy. Wasn’t that part of the Alaskan experience, anyway? Why she’d come here in the first place?
Her thoughts went to Colonel Graves’ last message. He had left it on her voice mail, asking about her decision. About his offer. Liaison officer. She liked the sound of it even though she dreaded the unknowns that went along with the job. It would mean being once again in the thick of it. In the middle of what the future had in store.
Not only for her, but for the rest of humanity.
Graves had filled her in with the latest information. Stuff he felt she had a right to know. The Army and the Committee had deployed a torrent of false news to protect the truth from going public, working with agents of confusion to infiltrate networks. They used the intelligence behind the curtains to bend the story the way they wanted it known. It was remarkable, really, how well it worked. Stories bubbled up on various blogs. They all reported the same accounts of so-called animal mutilations in Alaska. There was the cliché photograph of dead cows that had nothing to do with on-site reports and much of the hubbub died out quickly, replaced with celebrity-related gossip.
For those, however, that had been in the real midst of it all, things had gone very differently. Though the Amilaki numbered only in dozens, the Committee had deemed it essential to separate them from the rest of the population. Co-existence with humans was over. For families with Amilaki in their midst, the shock was total. Overnight, squads of specially trained DHS agents would pluck the Amilaki away from spouses and children. The explanation was always the same: homeland security prerogative. The catchall charge allowed the agents to arrest the Amilaki, who by necessity, had no choice but go along with the new way.
Beatrice could only imagine what those loved ones went through. The pain of having a husband, or a wife, hauled away as a criminal must be a terrible thing to live through. Graves had went to great length to explain the rationale behind the special order, and in a sense, she understood the need for it.
But try telling that to the little girl whose dad was whisked away…
… Never to be seen again.
For that what the ultimate solution put into place.
The family problem would never go away if hope still burned within them, if they still prayed for the return of their loved ones.
So it was decided, they would never return.
Staged in such a way to confound all observers, the Army burned the facility to the ground.
All the detainees ‘died’.
Families cried and spouses grieved.
And after some time, most of them accepted the Committee’s help. They picked up the pieces of their lives and relocated, finding wealth and solace under kinder, bluer, skies.
For the Amilaki, the new way of life was both a blessing and a curse. They had a place to call their own. A place where the Coalescence could live again.
But there was no escaping the fact that it was a prison. The Army and the Committee had removed their obligation to behave as humans… but also their freedom, their liberty.
Beatrice thought it remarkable how authorities had wrangled the Amilaki problem and turned it into an asset. The Parabionts were now working for us. In exchange for the right of going on living inside humans, they were required to help humanity devise machines to fight the upcoming threat.
To fight the Snyl.
And they had no say in the matter.
“
I don’t want the bad blood between us to destroy our chance for success, Beatrice.”
The Colonel’s final words echoed in her mind. The man was fearful the situation could degenerate into chaos and destroy the bridge of good will he had worked so hard to put up.
He needed her help.
And she couldn’t refuse.
She missed her friends, missed the esprit de corps she’d shared with Noah, Paige, Garcia and the others.
And, to her surprise, she missed Asalak and Kalxin.
She couldn’t help but wonder what they were up to, what grand design they pursued.
And even though it meant she would have to face the man who used to be Asher, there was no way around it.
Okay, Colonel. I’m yours.
Foxy spun around and ran to her waiting arms, tongue ready to lick her face.
What have you got in mind?
3 Reunion
The first day of Spring was more a continuation of Winter than the expected seasonal change. Turning her back to the biting wind, she hopped lightly from one foot to the other, wishing she’d chosen the parka instead of the lighter down-filled jacket. Not that the coat wasn’t warm, but it was waist length instead of thigh, which as unlikely as it sounded, made a big difference when the temperature hovered near the freezing point. Hands stuffed into gloves, she waited outside the house for her lift. Weather called for snow, maybe 6 inches, with the possibility of more if conditions were right. It seemed to her, that conditions were always right these days. Climate change caused impacts that went beyond raising waters and droughts. It modified the air currents, the global conveyors of wind that fashioned the weather all over the planet. Change one air stream in the Pacific and the effects might only be felt on the Eastern part of the coast, in cities like Boston or Halifax. It was this intricate connection between systems that were the real unknowns and no one, really, knew how it would all end, what the long-terms effects would be.
Of course, Beatrice mused as she shivered in the cold, Sitka would probably continue to freeze, with Alaska turning into one gigantic, and permanent, ice box.
A glint in the distance caught her attention. A large vehicle, gray with spots of green, rose up and down as it powered up the road. A minute later, the Army Humvee veered into the driveway, the big tires making a sound that reminded her of popcorn coming to life inside a microwave oven. She waited for the vehicle’s engine to turn silent then walked over to it. The driver, a young man she’d met before, climbed out to greet her.
“Miss McKenzie,” he said, shoving his hand out. “Great to see you again.”
She gripped his hand and shook it. “Cornell! Nice to see you.”
The young soldier smiled, the pearly whites lighting up his angular, yet smooth, dark-brown face.
“I don’t think you’ve ever met Foxy,” Beatrice said, stroking the dog at her side.
“No, haven’t had the pleasure.”
The soldier dropped a knee to the ground. “Hi, Foxy.”
The Sheltie trotted over to him and snuggled her head over his thigh. He petted her, the smile growing even larger.
“I’ve always loved dogs… though we’ve never had one of our own.”
“No? Why is that?”
Cornell’s smile turned downward. “Too poor. We were five in a tiny house and Ma simply couldn’t afford it.”
Beatrice nodded in silence, feeling the young man’s anguish. “I understand.”
“So…” he asked, straightening up. “All ready?”
“Just a minute.”
She turned around, climbed up the stairs to the house and grabbed the duffel bag lying on the porch. She checked the door one last time to make sure it was solidly locked then made her way back to Cornell.
“All set.”
“My orders are to bring you directly over to the Plant.”
“The Plant?”
The young man nodded. “Yes.” He indicated the bag with a raised eyebrow. She handed it to him. “That’s our code name for the facility.”
“Oh…”
The Private stashed the bag on the back seat. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s not much of a name since the place is an old converted power plant.” He shrugged. “That’s the army for ya.”
Beatrice opened the rear passenger door and pointed to the empty seat. “In you go, girl.”
Foxy jumped inside with an effortless hop.
“I didn’t know you could bring her along,” Cornell said, as he slipped behind the wheel.
“Let’s just say I know people in high places,” Beatrice grinned, a glint in the eye.
He nodded, impressed. “Ready?”
It was her turn to nod.
He pushed a button and the engine hummed to life. Staring at the large screen mounted in the middle of the dashboard, he backed the truck up to the lane. There were no other vehicles around, and with a last check, he shifted the transmission into Drive.
Beatrice watched her house drop out of sight as they sped away, heart tightening in her chest. She had the overwhelming sensation she’d never see the modest cabin again. The chill flowing down her back had nothing to do with the low degrees… it was about doubt. As the miles went by, it grew inside her, making her wonder if she had made the right decision. She had followed her heart, relying on her intuition to guide her way.
But was her intuition still reliable?
Could she still count on it to avoid life’s pitfalls?
She wasn’t so sure anymore.
There was so much she still didn’t know. The Amilaki had abilities that bordered on magic. Telepathy, for once. She had heard their voices in her head. Voices with thoughts, memories and even fears. Voices that were not her own’s.
Had those voices, somehow, influenced her decision?
She had no answer.
Was she taking the right path, the one she was supposed to take? Or could she turn back and pray that that everything would be okay, that the Snyl would somehow leave them all in peace?
Outside the truck’s cabin, the scenery zoomed by, all green and white. They had left the residential zone behind and were now weaving their way among the hills surrounding Blue Lake. Crowning over the landscape, Mount Verstovia stood like a colossal sentinel, its 3,354 feet high peak invisible to the eye, lost to the gray clouds. The paved road ceded to dirt, and Cornell lowered the speed as the trail turned narrower. Up ahead, a tall smokestack edged out the treetops, the silvery column of steel clashing with the local greenery.
Beatrice shot a glance at the navigation display and realized it showed an array of indicators, including weather data. At the moment, the wind speed was a very low 3 mph, coming from SSE. They rounded a bend and Cornell reduced the speed to a crawl.
“We’re here.”
Straightening up to take in the view ahead, she noticed that they were engaged in a dead-end, with the trail leading out to an old brick and mortar gatehouse. Decrepit, the place would have looked deserted if it wasn’t for the presence of two armed guards blocking the way. Cornell drove up to the chain-link fence and rolled down his window.
“Hi, guys,” he said, fishing out his ID badge from around his neck.
A barrel chested soldier with the name Newbury stitched above his heart put a hand to the top of the truck.
“Hey, Josh,” Cornell said.
The man ignored him, staring instead at Beatrice. “Who’s the girl?”
Cornell’s breath caught in his chest. There was a twitch in his jaw as he answered in a robotic voice: “VIP guest.”
Newbury’s brow furrowed, a vein popping in the middle of his large forehead. “What is her name? I need to write her name down.”
He flashed a clipboard a millimeter away from Cornell’s nose.
“Ask Colonel Graves.”
“What?”
“I said,” Cornell explained as if to a young child, “Ask Colonel Graves.”
The guard’s face turned red. “Williams, you dumbass. Just tell me her name.”
“Listen, Newbury. Enough games, the Colonel is waiting for us.”
“I don’t care if the POTUS himself is waiting!” Newbury raged. “I need a name.”
“I told you,” Cornell said, shaking his head. “VIP guest.”
Newbury tossed the clipboard to the other guard and struck the roof of the truck with his fist. The noise clanged noisily in the quiet of the forest. “Suit yourself, Williams… but your not getting in.”
Beatrice stared at both men in wonder. The bad blood between the two reminded her of a cock fight she’d seen in a documentary. Except this time, both warriors were armed with thoroughly real weapons.
The second guard, Leo Kowalski, who had remained a way’s off while the discussion took place, stepped over to the passenger side of the Humvee. Beatrice saw him come closer and opened her window. “Do you mind writing your name down, miss?” He asked, handing the clipboard to her.
“Not at all,” she answered with a smile.
“I got this,” the guard called to Newbury, looking over the truck at the seething soldier. “Why don’t you relax.”
A moment later, Beatrice slid the clipboard back into the guard’s hand. The man tipped a finger to his hat and walked away. A moment later, she saw him freeze in his tracks. He stood immobile for five seconds then made his way over to the gate. “All clear, Newbury. You can let them in,” he called, at last.
Newbury backed up from the truck, eyes still glued to Cornell. There was a squeak of steel wheels against tracks and the chain-link gate slid out of the way. Cornell revved the engine and accelerated through the opening, sticking his hand out with one finger raised to the sky.
Beatrice turned to him. Cornell slid his window up, cutting off Newbury’s curses. There was a large smile on his face.
“What was that all about?” She asked.
He shrugged with nonchalance but she could see he was still miffed by the whole affair. “That guy thinks he’s the king of the world but if you ask me, he’s more the king of yahoos.”
“Yahoos?”
“Yes, yahoos,” he laughed.
They rode in silence for a minute before Beatrice’s own laughter erupted in the cabin.
The Parabiont Invasion Book 3 Page 2
