“I see someone,” the private hissed, hunkering even lower behind the monolith-shaped block of stone.
Paige crouched down low, eyeing the area ahead. “Where?”
“On the left, beyond the reefs.”
She grabbed the binoculars from him and took better position behind the boulder. Using her left elbow as a makeshift tripod, she adjusted the lenses and began to search the shore. In her sight, between the tall hulks of stone, the ridge of jagged rock rose from the waters like a palisade; the waves crashing with a roar as they worked their way inshore. On the wind-swept reef, the shape of man walked to and fro. He was dressed in dark clothes and held what looked to be a rope. Paige pushed the zoom setting to its limit and the view shifted, coming to rest to the gray clouds in the sky. Cursing inwardly, she lowered the binoculars a few centimeters, attempting to center the view on the man. The image bounced about as she fought to steady her hand. A shadow materialized into view and she froze. It was the man. He had his back turned to her. She attempted to zoom some more but the setting was already at 60x. She noticed he wore a heavy jacket, like the ones people had for all-day exterior work. There was something familiar about the jacket but she couldn’t remember where she’d seen it before.
Then the man turned her way.
The scar was unmistakable. It was him. The man she’d fought with at Beatrice’s house. And who succeeded in capturing both of them. As she stared at his hard face, at the beady eyes, at the glistening scar that seemed to define who he was, she realized with shock that he was looking straight at her. She whirled about and dropped behind the boulder. Heart hammering in her chest, she glanced at De Rozan. The private was staring at her, brow furrowed in confusion. With disbelief, she saw a tall man pop up right behind him, only a few feet away. She jerked involuntarily. It was the man with the large shoulders.
The police officer.
Carruthers.
De Rozan realized something was wrong and pivoted at once to confront the intruder. The instant lingered for an infinite nanosecond. Carruthers raised his right arm. Paige saw something in his hand.
Kyle aimed his weapon and squeezed the trigger.
The bullets tore through Carruthers chest at a speed of 2,500 feet per second. The man’s eyes widened as he lost balance, his legs folding under him like the bellows of an accordion. He coughed a bright cloud of blood and crashed to the ground like a water-laden bag of bones. There was a noise like a balloon deflating and he lay still, his head coming to rest in the narrow space between two slab of stones.
“Jesus!”
Paige forced herself to move. She grabbed the Private by the shoulders and literally pulled him up. He shot a glance at her, eyes filled with fear.
“Come on, we have to move,” she yelled in his face, hammering each word.
With a last look at Carruthers, Paige took the lead. She knew there were more of them. Scar Man was back there and even though there were no signs of the others, they couldn’t be far away. She zigzagged between the boulders with speed, the adrenaline flowing through her veins. Up ahead, the shore ceded to an area of low hills, made slippery with a coating of ice. Bursting from the relative cover afforded by the boulders, she hurried up the hill, using the exposed rocks to her advantage as she hopped her way to the top. Breathing hard, she took a moment to check on De Rozan. The private was just a step behind her, climbing up the hill with his weapon still at the ready.
In the distance, she saw a low mass in the water, near the reef. It was a boat, or rather a barge outfitted with living quarters on the deck. She had seen similar ones before, at Lake Union in Seattle. But this one seemed even larger, and wider. The roof was gently curved over the entire length of the hull, with regular-sized door and windows at the extremity, where an exposed deck acted like an exterior patio. The houseboat was old, with most of the woodwork streaked with dark, oily, stains. She guesstimated that it was at least 50 feet long, perhaps even longer. A movement caught her eye at the rear. Four human figures dropped into an inflatable zodiac boat, the silver exterior fabric catching the sun’s rays.
Shit!
A moment later, she heard the sound of the outboard motor.
They’re on to us!
Turning back to talk to De Rozan, she noticed at once something was wrong. The private was stuck in an odd pose, midway between a crouch and a step. There was a twinge of pain etched on his face and to her horror she realized his eyes had completely turned over, with only the white visible.
“Kyle!”
Not understanding what was going on, she took a step toward him. A shadow moved in the corner of her peripheral vision. It came out from behind the Private, slipping in front of him. She caught a glimpse of something metallic and dove for cover. There was a clicking sound, like a flick of a switch. Acting on instinct she rolled to her side and pulled out her handgun. The shadow moved sideways, trying to gain a direct line of sight. She fired. A small hole appeared in a boulder, about a foot away from the figure. There was flash of motion and Scar Man revealed himself. Surprised by the unexpected move, she saw him raise his hand. She lunged forward and felt the air move beside her left ear. Keeping her head low to evade whatever the man was shooting at her, she squeezed the trigger of her Colt in rapid succession, shooting wildly in his direction. There was a short cry of pain. She jumped up and rushed forward. Scar Man was about 10 yards away, cradling his right arm. He saw her come and with his good hand, bent down to grab an object from the ground. Paige fired a warning shot between his feet, the bullet ricocheting away between the rocks.
“Freeze, asshole!”
The man stopped moving but kept his weapon in hand.
“Drop it!” Paige hissed, making her way closer to him.
She saw the scar twitch along the line of his jaw.
“I said, drop it!”
The man didn’t move, glaring back at her with dark, inscrutable eyes. Paige took another step forward.
“I swear to God I’ll shoot if you don’t let go of that weapon.”
A loud buzzing noise erupted right behind her. Startled, she shot a glance sideways, looking for the source.
But there was nothing.
Scar Man moved.
She felt something strike her in the sternum. A blazing wave of pain raced through her limbs, like a flame running up a detonation cord. The pain seared her from within, paralyzing her body in an instant. She couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink. A tunnel of gray swirling light distorted her visual perception, plunging her into a world of chaos. As the tunnel shrunk in size, it spun faster, turning her gut inside out.
She saw Scar Man come closer. His face turned into a grotesque pastiche of a human, distorted beyond normality by the whirling maelstrom. His hand moved to remove something in her chest. The tunnel became a tight circle of tumbling blobs of matter. Paige saw an object materialized into view as the last tenuous bonds of reality shattered around her. Her mind seized on the object’s appearance.
A needle-like thing. Barbed, translucent, scary. Utterly alien.
Then with a final wink of dying light, the world turned dark.
8 Disruptor
“Why isn’t it a decagon?” Beatrice muttered, glancing at Asalak.
She was standing right outside the Cube, the room within a room that lay in the heart of the plant.
The Amilaki’s grin was scornful. “Because we weren’t consulted.”
He saw the stupefaction on her face and he couldn’t help but smile. “I’m kidding. It’s true that we design our interfaces that way. It’s a biological thing. A decagon has ten sides, we have ten digits. Perfect fit.”
“We also have 10 fingers, but our stuff is much simpler,” she retorted.
“Well, we’ve been around a few thousand years longer than you. Give it some time, you’ll see.”
There was a preoccupied look in his eyes.
“The Cube is just a way to alleviate Colonel Graves’ security concerns. It could have been a sphere or any other sh
ape really.” He shrugged. “But he seemed to like the fact that a cuboid shape is easy to built. Form follows function and all that.”
She nodded. “I see.”
The afternoon was turning way more interesting than she’d planned. The Colonel had dropped by to give her an ID card, telling her she could go about as she pleased. Well almost as she pleased. Security and Weaponry were off-limits, but that was to be expected given her status. What she found interesting, however, was the fact that the Cube was not restricted; that it was up to the Amilaki to grant her access.
Or not.
With curiosity urging her on, she had hastily put her things away, stuffing shirts and pants in the three drawers at her disposal. Foxy being Foxy, she attended to the Sheltie’s biological needs before, at last, she was free to roam the great hall of the plant.
And she hit pay dirt at once.
Asalak crossed in front of her, emerging from a storage room with a stack of electronic parts in hand.
She had hailed him and one thing leading to another, now found herself at the Cube’s door.
“Are you gonna show me inside?” She asked, trying hard not to stare at the deep ridges layering his forehead.
A flicker of hesitation turned his face into a mask. She could almost feel his internal struggle as he debated what to do. She saw the doubt in his eyes and something else, something he wished to hide.
Worry.
“Follow me,” he said at last.
He stepped over to the door and pressed his thumb to a panel affixed to the wall. There was a whirr of a bolt sliding away and he pushed the door open. “After you.”
She stood unmoving for a second. She had the uncanny sensation that if she went inside, it would change her fate forever, like Alice traipsing into Wonderland. Choosing not to enter was out of the question, yet the option still burned in her mind. There was something reassuring about staying out of the loop, about being oblivious of the surrounding dangers.
What was the saying? Better safe than sorry?
She shrugged the sensation away and walked past him. The door closed behind them with a soft click. The first thing that came to her mind was of a womb. The lighting was soft, diffuse, not at all glaring or too bright. It surrounded and bathed the place in a warm and pleasurable glow, at once making you feel welcomed and at peace with yourself. The light was golden, beautiful, a sunset to best all those that came before or were still to come. She felt her nervousness ease, the sensation melting away like ice under a desert sun. The Cube was akin to stepping into an oasis of light whose sole function was to cradle you until Time itself turned over.
She shot a glance at Asalak. He was observing her reaction with a knowing grin, though, she felt, it was a little too clinical for her taste.
His stare turned to the center of the room.
She direction her attention to what her mind categorized at once as a pile of machines. It was at least twenty-five feet tall by twenty feet wide. A complex assemblage of electronic hardware, cables, wires, power units and other 3D-printed parts, the stack stood under the rafters like an ode to a technological God, a tower of machinery that hummed with discrete yet clearly felt power.
Alongside the stack, a manufacturing area had been set up. It was made up of stations equipped with what looked to be the latest in 3D making gear. Glistening chrome-plated robotic arms, that rolled along the floor on pneumatic wheels, fished parts in and out of the jumbo, industrial-sized, printers, their movement meticulous and precise. By the looks of it, they were still adding to the stack even as she watched; fabricating, assembling and installing an armada of parts, each one unique and whose function was, at the moment, quite unfathomable.
On the other side of the assembly line, an array of Army-issued laptops and display screens had been arranged with military precision on laboratory-type tables, along with half a dozen office chairs, which to Beatrice’s eyes appeared brand new. A blanket of thick power cables snaked over the floor, going all the way out to the Cube’s rear wall, to where they vanished inside a rack of large power cabinets.
Staring up at the ceiling, she was amazed to see there were no neons or lightbulbs of any kind. The serene illumination came from the stack itself, the only source of light in the room.
As she struggled to understand what she was staring at, the light fluctuated, turning a few degrees brighter. Asalak walked over to where the main console of the machine was installed and took a seat alongside another man, already seated.
Shocked that she’d failed to notice him, Beatrice’s heart skipped a beat when she realized who sat in the chair.
Oh!
The man turned to her.
Asher!
He was the same as she remembered him. The neatly neglected dark hair, the sharp features, the keen and intelligent dark-brown eyes, the sensuous mouth. Maybe it had to do with the fact that his appearance hadn’t changed, but she felt the bond they’d once shared blossom at once, as if it had never dimmed. He still looked so much like Asher. It was mesmerizing and for the first time in her life, she didn’t know what to think. Tebayi’s attack had left them both fragile, weak, and broken. They had suffered much, both physically and mentally. In the final instants when he confronted her, spurred on by Tebayi’s influence, she had held on to the hope that his affection would prevail, that he wouldn’t squeeze the trigger. Even when he did, the hope inside her still wouldn’t die.
And she was sure that was the reason she was still alive.
The man with Asher’s eyes looked at her quizzically, his features set in a neutral yet polite facade. He gave her an almost imperceptible nod then turned his attention back to the displays.
Heart hammering in her chest, she shot a glance at Asalak. He saw the indecision in her eyes and with a quick hand gesture, invited her to come closer.
Beatrice’s emotions flopped inside her like a goldfish away from his bowl.
She knew she had to face it someday. Face the fact that Asher was no longer the man she’d known, appreciated, cared for. It was disconcerting but she had to find a way to rationalize it, to live with it.
Because that’s the way it is now.
She took a deep breath and walked over to them.
“Beatrice,” Asalak said without looking away from the screen, where a complex diagram slowly rotated counterclockwise, “you remember Eklan, of course.”
The man she thought of as Asher bolted upward from his seat. He struck his hand out, a crooked smile appearing on his handsome face. “Beatrice McKenzie. A pleasure to meet you at last. I have heard a lot of good things about you from Asalak, Noah Blevins and Staff Sergeant Garcia.”
Taken aback by the subtle differences in his voice, she involuntarily jerked backwards. He seemed not to take notice and eased forward.
“I know this is a shock to you. I am sorry my appearance causes you trouble.”
She realized he was still waiting for her to shake his hand. She gulped down her unease and gripped the proffered hand. “Nice to meet you.”
He indicated the stack with a nod of the head. “What do you make of it?”
She glanced at the tower looming in the background. Up close, it was even more impressive. The stack was filled with hundreds of palm-sized decagonal devices, plate-sized, that twinkled with activity, each one behaving differently than the other. They reminded her of the incapacitator weapons, but larger and without the smooth shape. Each device was made-up of even more integrated pieces, of the same ten-sided decagonal shape, that created an overall effect of looking into infinity, with each piece getting smaller and smaller, down to a level that was too small for her to make out. Fascinated, she observed the stack with awe. There was a sense of power behind the hum of the machinery, a purpose that was hard to quantify but there nonetheless.
“It’s quite striking. What is it?” She said, shifting her stare to Eklan.
“A disruptor.”
“Interesting.”
He grinned, pleased.
“
What’s a disruptor?” She asked.
He blinked twice before answering. “An apparatus designed to disrupt.”
Somewhat miffed by his answer, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Really? I wouldn’t have thought of it.”
Asalak turned away from the screens to watch the interaction between the two. She noticed he had a timid grin on his face.
“That does not surprise me,” Eklan said, as if he stated a fact pulled from the book of ‘Known truths about humans’.
“What do you mean by that?”
Eklan didn’t notice the edge in her voice. “It is well known you prefer to let instinct dictate your actions instead of thinking it through.”
“Is that so?”
The sarcasm was lost to him. “Yes.”
She shrugged. “We’re not all that way, you know. Take me, for example. I think too much.”
Eklan’s face registered surprise. “I didn’t think that was possible for humans.”
She snickered. “Oh, it is. Believe me, it is.”
He pondered the answer. “Perhaps.”
She turned to the disruptor. “So about this apparatus.”
It was Asalak who answered this time. “It’s a weapon against the Snyl.”
She glanced at him. His eyes affected a quiet confidence but his jaw twitched with apprehension.
“A weapon?”
He walked over to where she stood. “Yes.”
They both stood in silence for a few seconds, the play of light revolving around them.
“How does it work?” She asked.
Eklan returned to the console. Asalak watched him took his seat then turned to Beatrice. “It uses energy from brain waves.”
Her eyebrows rose up a good centimeter. “Woah.”
He smiled. “I know what you’re thinking.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Yes. That this machine can’t possibly work. The Colonel said the same thing.”
“I didn’t say anything,” she corrected.
The Parabiont Invasion Book 3 Page 5
