The Susquehanna Virus Box Set
Page 45
Jeremiah leaned over, touched the top of the baby’s warm head, caressed her soft curly hair, looked into her bright blue eyes, incongruous in that cocoa face, and said, “She’s beautiful.”
The child smiled at him as if pleased by the compliment. The mother noticed and a smile lit up her face as well. “Thank you,” she said. “Her name is Celestia.”
Krall spotted him and yelled across the room: “Jeremiah, will you tell us the story of how you rescued Devereaux?”
The room went quiet. Even the baby focused on Jeremiah. He straightened. Quark, who had been there for most of the battle and largely knew what had happened, looked at him expectantly, his hand out in a permissive gesture. Hadn’t Quark told them already?
“It wasn’t anything to be proud of,” Jeremiah said. “It was just a dirty political job. Devereaux had been accused of developing weapons of mass destruction, something I now realize was crazy. But I didn’t know Devereaux back then. I didn’t realize how thoroughly a man of peace he is. My mission was to keep him out of the hands of Gray Weiss—the President’s biggest rival—and return him to Washington, DC.”
“All of which you did,” Quark said. “But I think the boys want to know about your battle with the Elite Ops.”
“You were there. You saw it.”
“Only the end,” Quark said. “I missed most of it.”
Krall said, “How did you defeat them?”
Jeremiah shook his head. “It was at best a draw. There was nothing heroic or noble about any of it—just kill or be killed.”
Krall said, “But how did you—”
“I had a particle beam cannon,” Jeremiah said as he returned to his seat. “The same thing the EOs carry. They can inflict massive damage. That’s why they’re banned on the Moon. Too dangerous. One stray shot could blow out the ceiling of the main hangar.” Jeremiah spread his hands, took a deep breath. “Anyway, it allowed me to take out their shields. But I didn’t win. The fighting only stopped when we got to Carlton.”
“Whatever happened to him?” Quekri asked.
Jeremiah shrugged. “I assume they buried him somewhere deep.”
Krall said, “You’re not much of a storyteller.”
“Too many painful memories.”
“Where’s Bettany?” Krall asked. He turned toward a teenage Escala girl who sat off to the side of the room. “You tell it, Bettany.”
Other voices chimed in asking Bettany to tell the story of their escape. Jeremiah got the sense that they’d heard it often.
“The Escala,” Bettany began after a glance at Jeremiah, “were in hiding, knowing that the bewitched Elite Ops, corrupted by the evil Carlton, would soon return to obliterate them. Only one man could save them—the great Walt Devereaux. But even he had been unable to help. He had too many enemies. And so the Escala waited to die. It was then that Julianna emerged—” Bettany stopped and glanced again at Jeremiah.
The atmosphere tensed. Every Escala stared at him, their faces changing color from orange to red as the rainbow lights continued their shifting pattern. Did the Escala know about his relationship with Julianna?
Bettany continued: “Once a killer and a spy, she had recently found Devereaux and started on the path of redemption up the Ladder of Enlightenment.”
“Julianna,” the crowd murmured, “we remember you.”
“She offered her assistance to Devereaux,” Bettany continued. “She aided the Escala where she could. But the powers in Washington hated the great Devereaux. A bounty was put on his head. Many accused him of seeking to destroy humanity because of his atheism. A few hunted him, including the Elite Ops. Not even Julianna would be able to save him. And once Devereaux was captured, the Escala would die. So Julianna arranged for a man to be sent to Minnesota—her former partner, the only man she ever loved.”
Again Bettany stopped and stared at Jeremiah. The other Escala turned his way too. So they knew about his relationship with Julianna. He sensed that they expected some sort of response. He reached for his stomach, fingered the scar through his shirt, and said, “She tried to kill me once.”
Bettany smiled before continuing: “She betrayed this man many years before because he had left her for another. And she felt the rage over his rejection. But she never stopped loving him. She promised us that he would help because he was one of us, even though he didn’t know it. Yet when he arrived, unaware of his true nature, he attacked the Escala. It was only after Julianna persuaded him of her undying love that he understood who he was and sided with us.
“An entire squad of Elite Ops descended on the Escala, attacking both them and Sister Ezekiel’s shelter, killing indiscriminately, slaughtering innocents in their savagery. The Escala were doomed. But Julianna and Jeremiah stepped forward, with no thought for themselves, and defended them. The Elite Ops murdered Julianna, but Jeremiah fought them himself—one man against many—with but a single weapon to their dozens.”
Jeremiah shook his head at the obvious exaggerations. He looked at Quark, hoping the big Escala would correct Bettany’s version, but Quark, his eyes on Jeremiah, shook his head. Quekri reached up and wiped her eyes with a napkin.
Bettany said, “Bloody and beaten, shot many times, hardly recognizable as human, Jeremiah dove into the frenzy, ignoring the agony in his body as he fought for Devereaux and the Escala. And when the smoke cleared, when the fighting finally came to an end, Jeremiah stood alone, victorious. Devereaux and the Escala were saved.”
The Escala turned to Jeremiah, some of them weeping, as if expecting him to confirm their version. Quark nodded at him. But Jeremiah couldn’t stomach their adulation. He said, “Julianna and Devereaux were the real heroes. They fought for you. And Julianna died for you. I couldn’t save her . . . or Sister Ezekiel . . . or . . .”
His voice trailed off. He couldn’t even bear to think of the consequences of his failure. How could these people think well of him?
“We remember them,” Quekri said, her voice quavering. “And we honor them as we honor you. No matter how you see yourself, your efforts saved us and we are eternally in your debt.”
Once again the room fell quiet. The rainbow bulbs sent wavering colors across faces lost in remembrance of fallen friends. Jeremiah thought of Julianna, his former partner—his love until he met Catherine. She’d always been a risk taker, a thrill seeker. Jeremiah had loved that about her, but he’d needed to distance himself from the tension and danger of the job, and Julianna couldn’t provide that space, that comfort.
“I don’t know how much she told you before she died,” Quekri said, “but she told us that working as a doctor at the Tessamae Shelter gave her the greatest fulfillment of her life. She embraced Devereaux’s ladder of enlightenment and finally found peace. I think she would have wanted you to know that.”
“Thank you,” Jeremiah said. He felt almost empty, as if he had squandered his love, leaving behind a lonely shell. And yet, knowing that Julianna had died happy, helping him survive, made the hollowness less painful.
The attractive blond got to her feet, her baby asleep in her arms. She turned to Quekri and said, “Well, it’s late. Good night.”
“Good night, Zeriphi,” Quekri said.
Zeriphi caught Jeremiah’s eye, and though she stood nearby, she spoke to the room: “I wish we could help you. I remember you.” She made her way out the open doorway. The others got to their feet too. They nodded to Jeremiah, said, “I remember you,” and shuffled out quietly. When only Quark and Quekri were left, they showed him to an empty room adjacent to the lab, where the sounds of scientists working drifted in. He barely noticed the noise. He dropped to the bed, comforted somehow by the creatures around him, whether they were human or not, whether he was human or not. The rage slept.
Chapter Three
Despite his eighty-three years, during which he’d had plenty of time to get used to people being taller tha
n him, Elias Leach was still sensitive about his five-foot, two-inch frame. He disliked tall women hovering over him. So when his protégé Lendra Riley entered his office, he gestured for her to sit. Looking at her face, he almost wished he could erase his avuncular persona.
Per President Angelica Hope’s orders, an Elite Ops trooper entered behind Lendra, the whine of his power pack grating. He wore armor of matte gray that blended into the background, making him almost shadow. Not even his helmet reflected the light. He carried his Las-rifle in his right hand, as if anticipating that Lendra might constitute a threat. Elias struggled not to shiver as he looked at the trooper.
“You can leave,” Elias said to him. “Lendra’s not a terrorist. She poses no threat.”
In fact, Elias feared the Elite Ops far more than Lendra, whose danger to him lay in her sly brilliance. Nearly six feet tall with long dark hair and a smooth cocoa complexion, she had full lips, high cheekbones, and dark eyes. Most men found it difficult to see beyond her beauty to her cold, calculating genius.
The Elite Ops trooper’s head pointed at Lendra for a moment before he spun around and departed. Damn things aren’t human, Elias thought. Practically machines—full of nanobots and miniaturized computers.
After the door closed he said, “I’ve got to call Admiral Cho, so I can only spare a moment. How’d the procedure go?”
“Fine.” Lendra scowled. “But I think Jeremiah will know this happened in a lab.”
“You assured me he was falling for you.”
“Lately he’s been distant. What was I supposed to do, rape him?”
“You were supposed to be like Catherine. Intelligent but vulnerable. That’s his type.”
“Maybe his type has changed. He seems to be growing increasingly suspicious. I can’t think what I’ve done to alert him. And I know he’s never intercepted any of my communications to you.” Lendra reached up and touched the interface at her left temple. She sank further into her chair.
Elias took a deep breath and looked out the window. Off in the distance, the Washington Monument rose out of the darkness, an ancient white obelisk pointing to space, to the Moon. The White House and Capitol shone brightly, and across the Tidal Basin the remains of the recently bombed Jefferson Memorial were just visible. But not even terrorists could change the fact that Washington was still the city of power. And he stood at the top of it. He turned back to Lendra.
“I suppose it’s possible. He continues to evolve. Physiologically. Neurologically. The enhancements we gave him are more advanced, more complex than the ones the other Escala have. We still don’t know their full potential. Frankly, we didn’t anticipate that his evolution would be ongoing. I thought he had reached the final stages last year. But he may have taken another leap forward. What I do know is that he’s extremely insightful. He always was. And now he’s even more so—an unfortunate development, perhaps. It wouldn’t take much for him to spot some inconsistency in your behavior.”
Lendra patted her stomach. “You know I’m loyal to you. Why else would I consent to this?”
“I thought you wanted his baby.”
“I do. Or at least I did. But he doesn’t want another kid. And I feel guilty betraying him. Do you think he’ll accept this child as his?”
Elias nodded. “Eventually. His psych profile practically guarantees it.”
“Why is he still so important to you? He doesn’t work for you anymore. He knows you were behind his son’s kidnapping. He may even try to kill you. Why not just let him go?”
“Jeremiah is my insurance policy.”
“Against what?”
“I can’t go into detail. The less you know, the better. If Jeremiah believes you’re still in contact with me, he might decide to force you into revealing what you know. And make no mistake, despite your enhanced brain, he would get the truth from you. Now go home. Wait for further instructions.” Elias reached for his PlusPhone. “I have to call Admiral Cho.”
Lendra stood and walked away. Elias watched her go. She made him want to call Manyara and slip away for a quickie, though at their age it was never quick, which was part of what made it so fun. Manyara made him feel young and desirable. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t want her. He didn’t have to pretend with her; he could be himself.
He looked out the window at the bombed Jefferson Memorial again. We have too many enemies acting indirectly, mostly through sponsored acts of terror that are often untraceable. It’s a shame that the bold, unilateral foreign policy of the early part of the century had resulted in such a backlash. Bringing democracy to the Middle East had been a fine idea horribly executed. Terrorism was the tool of the desperate. And the world had become increasingly desperate since then.
Violence, on the uptick for decades, continued to threaten Earth. A crisis point was fast approaching. Elias had seen it coming years ago. That was why he’d started his program on the Moon. He hoped it would play out the way he’d planned. Much of it was beyond his control now.
He selected Admiral Cho’s number and waited for the other man’s face to appear on the PlusPhone. He disliked relying so heavily on a member of the military, even someone like Cho, who had been suborned as a CINTEP informant for almost a decade. Elias hesitated to give him too much information.
Cho’s rectangular face appeared, with its broad nose, narrow lips, heavy-lidded eyes. “Elias,” Cho said in his Texas drawl, “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna call. Your boy’s here, landed yesterday. He’s with the pseudos now. Sleepin’.”
Elias said, “What steps have you taken to insure security?”
His voice traveled at the speed of light a quarter-million miles to Admiral Cho, whose voice returned at the same speed. An interminable three seconds. In this day and age there ought to be a way to transmit instantaneously. How were they going to deal with people on Mars when the lag time could be as much as forty-five minutes?
“We’ve put extra personnel on all vulnerable systems,” Cho said. “Access to the ice harvesters has been restricted. Nobody’s goin’ near those craters unless we want ’em to. Same with the power plant. And the air filtration stations are monitored 24/7, as are the water recycling and purification plants. All those facilities have been secured. Ain’t no way Mr. Jones is gettin’ near ’em without me knowin’ about it.”
“Are any of our international partners raising concerns about the added security?” Elias asked.
Another three-second lag.
“You know,” Cho said with a laugh, “I used to think we were crazy to foot the entire bill for security up here. Now I can understand why. I have free reign to do as I see fit. I could even make Jones disappear. No one would ever know. No one would ever find him.”
“Absolutely not,” Elias said. “Look, Admiral. Jeremiah is a valuable commodity, maybe even more valuable than those kids up there. And he’s difficult to control. But as long as the boy is alive, I’ve got a hook in Jeremiah I can use to my advantage. For now, I’ve got to keep him off balance, worried about his son. I don’t want him devoting any time or effort to thinking about what we’re doing. So make sure he doesn’t get the boy too easily.”
Over the three-second lag, as Elias’ words reached Cho, the Admiral’s face drew into a frown. “You’re kinda handicappin’ me here, Elias. Seems like I’m liable to lose some men—maybe a lot of good men—if Jones decides to attack us. I’m not sure I’d rather tip him off than have a Pyrrhic victory.”
“You know the bigger mission, Admiral. We might have to push up the timetable too, what with India and China at each other’s throats. And if Devereaux was right and the Susquehanna Virus mutates to become even more deadly, we’ll have to coordinate the attacks of the cadets to occur in a timely fashion with that event.”
Elias took a calming breath, waited for a response. He contemplated the Susquehanna Virus. A few of his analysts agreed with Devereaux
that it presented by far the largest threat to humanity despite the fact that no government openly considered it a major problem at this point.
“I don’t see what Jones has to do with the virus,” Cho finally said.
“Jeremiah might be our last defense against it. If it mutates as we’ve been warned, he might be the only one with immunity. We would then need him for a vaccine. I might also have to use him as the arrow we aim at Susquehanna Sally, whoever that is.”
Another interminable pause, even longer, as Admiral Cho thought about his reply.
“Why don’t you make a few more pseudos like him? Why’s he gotta be the only one? And how come you still don’t know who this Susquehanna Sally is? I’m startin’ to think maybe you do and you’re just keepin’ that information to yourself.”
Now Elias took his time framing his answer. “We’ve tried to make more like him, Admiral. We failed. Something to do with the compatibility of his genetic structure. None of the other candidates could tolerate the level of alteration he endured. So until we find another potential candidate, we have to keep him alive.
“As for Susquehanna Sally, we know it’s a biogeneticist or possibly a group of biogeneticists. So far, they’ve been careful to make limited contacts. Eventually she or they will make a mistake and we’ll find them.”
“I hope so,” Cho finally said. “Very well. I’ll keep you informed. Cho out.”
Elias held the PlusPhone in his hand as he let his thoughts drift back to Jeremiah. He envied the younger man, experiencing life on another planetary body. As a boy, Elias had longed to visit the Moon. He almost wished he could have given up his position with CINTEP and sought a job there. But they needed engineers and scientists, not administrators.
He looked out the window at the Moon. We’re there irrevocably now. There will never be a time when it is empty of human life again. Not until we’re extinct anyway.
It was even easy for life to survive on the Moon, despite a surface temperature varying between -387F at night and 253F during the day. Each lunar day lasted twenty-nine and a-half Earth days, so there were periods during each lunar day—whole Earth days—when the surface temperature was comfortable. And with millions of tons of lunar ice providing water, oxygen and hydrogen for a fuel source, the Moon could sustain thousands of people.