Animalis

by John Peter Jones

  Hank gave a thumbs-up, and Jax cut a large hole, then pulled it away to reveal the layer of insulation beneath it. After he’d cut through that, he removed the material. The last cut was small, just big enough for Jax to aim through.

  Jax put away his laser tool and peeked in. The building looked similar to the fish warehouse. He saw rows of large refrigeration boxes, and conveyor belts with Animalis watching for product defects. Their heads turned from side to side, looking at each other, the fish on the belt, the front of the building, back to the fish. The offices were lined up beside the garage doors, and one cargo transport sat parked in front of the doors.

  It wouldn’t take much damage to disable the transport, but getting through the protective outer layer would take several precise shots to the same location. Then, when the computer detected damage, it wouldn’t risk allowing it to travel on the roads.

  Jax aimed the rifle at the edge of the transport and fired. The material glowed red, then the color spread out and diminished. Before the color disappeared, he fired again. Again and again, till the material stopped sending the heat away and grew black. He kept firing until the first power cell in the gun was drained. The last mark glowed with a bright ring, showing the laser had penetrated the armor. Before signaling Hank, Jax scanned the warehouse a second time. He saw no other transports.

  Jax gave Hank the signal. A moment later, Jax heard the sound of glass breaking in the warehouse. Then came frightened cries from the workers. Jax looked through his peephole and saw that the gas grenades were doing their job, filling the room with smoke. Doors below them opened with a flurry of running and shouting. Out on the street, they could hear shouts of commands from their units. It sounded like some of the fleeing Animalis had made it past their barricade.

  Jax cut a larger hole, preparing to drop in and search the building once the commotion stopped. When he pulled the section of roof away, the chemical fog in the warehouse was already beginning to dissipate. The machines were still going, humming and sending packaged fish along the conveyor belts, but the remaining workers had all fallen unconscious a few yards from their stations.

  Hank held Jax’s arms and lowered him down. He could feel the office roof with the tip of his shoe. He messaged Hank:

  Drop me.

  Hank’s grip loosened and Jax slid down, crouching to cushion his impact. Before reaching up to help Hank down, he peered over the edge of the roof he had landed on, checking the warehouse floor below. The fog had cleared to a gentle haze. Jax’s eyes detected a swirl in the vapor, still curling from some recent movement.

  Jax lifted his rifle, following the movement. It led behind a refrigerator. More movement—dashing across a section of floor and into the back of the cargo transport. It was white and ghost-like in the fog.

  He messaged Hank:

  Someone’s still moving in here.

  “Jax.”

  Hank’s voice sounded like a whispered hiss from the hole above—and there was a strange tone to his voice. Jax stepped back to listen.

  “I can’t … I can’t come down,” Hank whispered. “You have instincts I just don’t have. If I go down there, I’ll … I’ll die, Jax. I know it.”

  Jax shook his head. Huh? Hank actually sounded frightened.

  “That … That badger didn’t even have a gun,” Hank said, “and I panicked when it found me. But you … oh man, you tore the place apart like it was nothing. I thought I could make it up by bringing that hyena back, and finding where they went. And I couldn’t … I couldn’t even think clearly doing that.”

  Jax didn’t want to risk speaking aloud, so he messaged:

  You got us here! We would have lost it without you. But there’s no time to argue. I’ll message you when I find where it’s going.

  Jax sent the message, and a moment later, Hank’s head moved away from the hole, then Jax saw the missing piece of roof snug back into the hole he’d cut. Jax grimaced. This wasn’t going even close to plan—and now it was all on him?

  Focus. Just focus!

  He looked around. He had one more task before they could secure the premises. The exhaustion from more than a full day of intense stress, though, was taking its toll on him. Jax could feel his body tingling and his skin going numb. It felt almost like he was getting sick.

  Jax climbed down from the office and landed on the floor, crumpling in a useless heap. He pulled himself up and took a deep breath. You’ll make it, he thought. He took another breath and held it. With a quick jerk, he shook his arms and head. The feeling of movement was refreshing. As he let the breath out, he felt his focus returning.

  On the floor below, the gas had dissipated enough that it wouldn’t knock him out. He crept down the stairs and walked through the warehouse, following after the movement he had seen from above. He stepped past the bodies and came around to the back of the cargo transport truck.

  The rear hatch of the transport truck was open, creating a wide ramp down to the floor. Jax continued to breath slowly, not letting his imagination take over with the deadly scenarios that lay waiting for him around the corner. Rifle raised, he crept forward to look in, but didn’t step onto the ramp yet.

  His retina monitor showed the interior to be ten feet wide and forty feet deep, and it looked like the transport held an enormous load. In the cargo hold, Jax saw some of the same white crates, and others that bulged with strange angles. Near the back of the space, a smooth, metal, triangular point reached nearly to the ceiling.

  The pyramid, Jax guessed.

  Something shifted inside, moving behind the first row of the crates. His ears picked up a sniffing sound. A second later, yellow eyes popped up and looked at Jax.

  “Don’t move,” Jax ordered. He stepped onto the ramp, walking slowly toward the eyes.

  “You found me.” It was a smooth, low, feminine voice. The individual sniffed the air. “You were at my warehouse, human.”

  To Jax, the voice had a vibrational quality to it—a mix between a growl and a purr. As he came closer and his eyes adjusted to the low-light interior, he could see that it was the lioness—Narasimha.

  “Stay where you are. Slowly show me your hands,” Jax said.

  The face followed him as he moved closer. Jax started to make out the details he had seem from the arena video … and they were far more terrifying in person. What commanded Jax’s attention weren’t the muscles, which were thick, defined, and more powerful than any on Jax’s body—but the movements … They were small, and controlled, hinting at a tidal wave of strength being held back.

  “I’ll show you my hands,” she said, “but what you should really be looking for is my claws.”

  As her hands lifted, her appearance transformed, increasing in intimidation. She could have been a gladiator preparing to defend herself while her hands were at her sides, a queen encircling her dominion while her arms rose wide, and a goddess ready to cast down lightning as her hands towered above Jax.

  He had wanted to see her hands to verify that she had no weapon. The hands were indeed empty—but he now realized that she still had a weapon. She was a weapon: powerful, intimidating, lethal. Standing in front of her, Jax could see himself as the disheveled human from the video, hopelessly doomed to be devoured in her arena. The distance between them, he knew, was inadequate in terms of a safe zone for him.

  An alert began beeping and the hatch Jax stood on started to lift. They were closing the door. Jax had to move before he lost his footing on the rising angle of the door.

  He figured he’d be safe on the outside, protected from an attack from the lioness. But then she would have the pyramid, protected by the armor of the cargo transport. Hank needed a situation report:

  Narasimha is here. I’m holding her inside the transport. The pyramid is here.

  He sent the message as he walked down the slope of the rising door—right into the lair of the lioness. He didn’t have time to wait for an answer from Hank; he had to trust his instincts.

  Jax’s eyes stayed
on the lioness as he moved, watching her head turn to the side and her arms lower back down. He had to stay focused on her to make sure she didn’t move. Even the slightest movement from her position—

  She’s moving! Jax felt his insides twist with the realization. He tightened his finger on the trigger, ready to shoot. His mind, though, felt slow, crippled from the effects of adrenaline from the day.

  Wait … She wasn’t moving toward him. Her body turned away and she walked farther into the cargo hold.

  “You’re slow, human. I could have killed you. Maybe I still will. I don’t think you will shoot me, like you did my people. You reek of fear.” She purred. “Hmm … Yes. It was your first time, I think? Ahh … Your heart is racing. But that gets me excited.”

  Jax’s heart was racing. Could she have killed him? Deep down, he knew it was true. Now it made him freeze; he couldn’t risk giving the lioness another chance like that. And it had only been a moment, his focus shifting to his own footing instead of her.

  “Stop,” Jax ordered. “I will shoot you.”

  The door sealed shut behind him. He stepped forward, following her from a distance.

  “No.” Her voice was regal, as if she were declining a petit-four. She kept moving, walking slowly between the crates. “Malick, let’s get moving.”

  Jax kept his sight on the back of her head. Malick … So there’s someone else in here. Maybe the white ghostly figure I saw before …

  “What is your name, human?” Narasimha asked.

  The floor started to shift under Jax, throwing him off balance. The cargo transport was moving. He adjusted his feet to keep from falling over.

  From outside the bulkheads of the cargo hold came the sounds of a violent crash. The transport shook, but the momentum kept going, increasing in speed. It was accelerating recklessly fast. The city’s traffic computer would never allow a car to travel at such high speeds, which meant they had moved the transport to its own driving software, also making the damage Jax had done to it useless.

  Hank

  Jax began a message, but he stopped when he saw his connection to the internet had been blocked. The walls of the cargo hold had to be somehow blocking his signal.

  The lioness turned to the right and was gone from sight, blocked by a large crate. Jax continued to move and heard her begin speaking again:

  “I want you to know my name, before you die, human.”

  Her voice lowered, and became even more textured and powerful. “I am Narasimha,” she said. The words reverberated through the cargo hold. “I don’t think I’ll let you live, not after you slaughtered my people today.”

  White crates passed by on either side of Jax. As he moved down the rows, he glanced left and right, around, behind the aisles of cargo.

  “What are you looking for?” she asked. “My weapons? The explosives? Or … something else?”

  She was talking too much. Holding my attention … But why? He stepped farther into the cargo hold. Now his nostrils picked up a rotten smell in it—a musky, decayed smell.

  He took a step back and turned to recheck the crates he had already passed.

  After a blur of dark-brown fur, tusks, and a sharp head-butt, Jax flew backward. He hit the ground headfirst with a hard bang and slid down the aisle of crates, the world swirling around him.

  “Narasimha, I got it!” a snorting voice squealed.

  Something moved out of the darkness of the transport and stood over Jax. He tried to lift his head, but his neck muscles tingled and then seemed to fall away from his awareness. Colors, shapes, and the face of the warthog swirled in his vision.

  Made … big mistake … His thoughts joined the stream of images tunneling away from him. Thought it would have white fur. Where … Where’s the white one?

  “Today is not the day I die,” Narasimha whispered into the dark void where Jax’s consciousness was heading. “Send him to the arena, Malick. I want to see him fight before he dies.”

  Moxie … She has white fur and—Wait. No. Not the arena, please. Don’t …

  His body pulsed and tingled, then there was nothing but blackness.

  Chapter 10

  Missing

  Official transcript: Communication between Warrant Officer Hank Schneps and Captain Jesus Hernandez. September 21, 2097.

  Schneps: We lost contact with Jax at 1900 hours. His last message indicated that he was inside the cargo transport that Narasimha escaped in. Twelve Animalis were captured. The contents of the second plane were taken in the transport with Narasimha.

  Hernandez: In Gillian’s report, he indicated that you used one of the Animalis to find the location of the second warehouse. How?

  Schneps: … Yes, sir. I … determined that the priority of finding the Ivanovich Machine was justification to use a pain-inducing drug on one of the Animalis found alive at the first warehouse.

  Hernandez: What compound?

  Schneps: … The Recoil compound.

  Hernandez: Recoil? Did it kill the Animalis?

  Schneps: No. The hyena Animalis was taken to a hospital.

  Hernandez: APE would burn me alive if they found out about this. Do you understand that?

  Schneps: But it’s only banned from use on humans.

  Hernandez: Don’t play stupid, Hank; it makes me feel like I’m the fool when you do it. The political atmosphere around Animalis has always been volatile as hell. I can’t have my men torturing the things and leaving them for the world to see in hospital beds.

  Schneps: I’m requesting that the company be deployed in full force to take the Ivanovich Machine.

  Hernandez: I see. I don’t think that will be possible with you in the brig.

  Schneps: The brig, sir?

  Hernandez: I’m growing impatient with your behavior. Your actions have consequences, Warrant Officer. At first, I was willing to listen to you about this idea of a weapon, but now I’m starting to think that it has only ever been a sculpture. I’ve had the information from the rat’s computer analyzed, but each facility has confirmed that there is no such DNA device.

  Schneps: I know it seems crazy, but if it is real, it’s the most dangerous weapon in existence!

  Hernandez: I’m aware of your convictions.

  Schneps: We have to go after it! Someone has to!

  Hernandez: I have a responsibility to protect the United States—

  Schneps: By—

  Hernandez: At this time, by keeping the border secure. I have limited resources, Schneps.

  Schneps: …

  Hernandez: …

  Schneps: Grimshaw wants to aid in a rescue for Jax.

  Hernandez: What? You told her details of an active operation?

  Schneps: She wants to leave right away to follow the cargo transport, and I could go with her.

  Hernandez: You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let her—

  Grimshaw: Hello, Captain.

  Hernandez: H-Hurley? Is that you? You’re beautiful. You look like you haven’t changed. How?

  Grimshaw: I’m going to try and find Jax. Hank says he can find where they went.

  Hernandez: But, Hurley, you’re a civilian now. That’s a job for the army.

  Grimshaw: Are you going to stop me, Jesus?

  Hernandez: Wait, we have to talk about it first.

  Schneps: Please, sir. If needed, I will find the machine on my own.

  Hernandez: Hurley, it’s too late. The Animalis don’t keep hostages for long, unless they are sent—

  Grimshaw: To the arena. I know.

  Hernandez: And you know we can’t get in their way to—

  Grimshaw: Are you going to let Hank join me, Jesus?

  Hernandez: I …

  Grimshaw: We have to leave.

  Hernandez: Warrant Officer Schneps, join Miss Grimshaw. Help her with anything she needs in the search for Officer Minette.

  Schneps: And the machine?

  Hernandez: If you are able to give me proof somehow that it is what you claim it to be, then w
e can talk about it some more.

  Schneps: Understood.

  Hernandez: It’s so good to see you again, Hurley. I—

  Grimshaw: Likewise, Captain. We’ll have to catch up another time. I’ve got to go.

  End Communication.

  ——

  In a private hangar at the Moscow airport, Hank sat in the cockpit of the Atticus, leaning forward in the captain’s chair, scanning a wall of information in front of him. It had been two days since the captain had allowed him to chase after Jax with Grimshaw. The first day had been spent going through shipping records until they were able to find where the cargo transport had been sent. It was taken to an airport and then jumped to Moscow. But the cargo transport had vanished off the grid once the plane had landed. Grimshaw and Hodge were somewhere in the city, checking in from wall screens with updates of their search.

  Without her near him, Hank could finally breath comfortably again. She had accused him, after he had been the only one willing to do what was necessary to track down the Ivanovich Machine, stared him down with blazing fire in her eyes like he was—

  He shook his head. It didn’t matter what she thought. The day would come when they would all see what kind of devastation the machine was capable of—unless Hank got his hands on the machine first.

  The information floating in the air sat motionless while Hank’s eyes danced around, devouring it. Some people would have relied on their retina monitors to capture and store the information, as if it were a way to have a photographic memory, thinking that it could give them a superhuman mind—like Hank’s—without any effort. But as they relinquished their mind’s responsibility to hold onto memories, they lost the ability, and with the loss of that ability, they lost their reasoning mind. With no memories to form stories with, they couldn’t link cause-and-effect relationships, they couldn’t predict the future, and they became robotic and computer-like, acting out whatever programming was passed into them from the media they drenched themselves in. A truly genius mind require effort, and Hank had put in that effort.