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Authors: Wesley Chu

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Thirty-One
The Hunt

I was living an uneventful and peaceful life within a barmaid in Spain when the conflict within the Quasing erupted. Our kind split into two factions, the Prophus and the Genjix. The Genjix wished to escalate the Conflict Doctrine and push humanity in order to force rapid advancements in technology and culture. The Prophus felt the Quasing had already gone too far, that humanity could develop more quickly without being in a state of constant struggle. While the Genjix had always called humans their vessels, the Prophus saw them as hosts and felt their relationship should be more symbiotic than parasitic.

At the time, I declared for the Prophus partially because I believed in their philosophy, but also because constant war was dangerous for a Quasing. We are the most vulnerable when we change hosts. Also, in a shock to all, the Keeper, our leader, had chosen to side with the Prophus, the only one of the original Grand Council to do so.

In hindsight, my choice may have been a mistake.

S
hura stepped
onto the street and watched as their quarry escaped, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. Most of the casualties had been the incompetent Indian police. She walked back up the driveway and knelt by the bodies in the parking lot. These were Genjix operatives. Cameron Tan was every bit as good as he was reputed to be.

Fluid. Natural instincts. Good use of space.

“He has grown,” she murmured.

She had observed the Prophus's flight from the third-story roof as Cameron's team had fought off the police's overwhelming numbers as they retreated to the van. This was an elite unit, no doubt about it.

That is what happens when we contract with amateurs.

“We didn't have much choice. The country is still recovering from the war. Most of their veterans have been drafted into the military. The police are more used to kicking beggars around than dealing with a special ops team.”

Shura could have gotten involved and possibly altered the outcome of the ambush. It wouldn't have been too difficult to rappel down and hit Cameron while he was occupied with the Genjix team. However, she would be without support. This wasn't her show anymore, so why should she put herself at risk?

For the glory of the Holy Ones?

“There are other ways to achieve that.”

Rurik appeared a few minutes later, screaming at the policemen milling about. It seemed neither he nor Sabeen spoke Hindu. He turned to Shura, red-faced. “What happened? We had a hundred men. How did they escape?”

Shura kept her face neutral, but relished his manic inexperience. The ambush had been problematic from the start. Rurik had erred on the side of caution and held the units meant to cut off the enemy's escape for too long. By the time they were ordered in to contain the exits, the enemy was already moving. Now, they would be forced to hunt them down.

She watched her words carefully. “Perhaps if you had brought more operatives instead of your personal retinue, the circumstances might have been different. Or if you had ordered your security detail to participate–”

“My detail stays with me,” he snarled. “I am the head of Russia, Shura. Never forget that. My protection is paramount. I am not expendable, like some lowly operative.”

Sabeen is forever overcautious and trying to compensate for his lack of combat experience. I should tell you about his time in General McClellan. The general was already a decorated Genjix officer before Sabeen joined with him. Sabeen somehow took a savvy military veteran and made him incompetent. The man sat on his ass for months doing nothing with one of the biggest Union armies while General Lee maneuvered circles around him.

“Weren't both Lee and McClellan Genjix operatives?”

Yes.

Shura chuckled. “Conflict breeds innovation.”

While Rurik had proven gifted in navigating the treacherous Russian political hierarchy, it came at a cost. Not all vessels and Quasing were experienced and skilled in all areas. Both he and his Holy One, Sabeen, severely lacked tactical experience. Outside his brief tenure during the American Civil War, the last time Sabeen had commanded a combat unit, it involved chariots.

In Rurik's case, he was too young to have fought in the Alien World War, so had spent the majority of the conflict financing the war and keeping the bombs dropping. It was an important role he excelled at, but hardly relevant to the ambush tonight. As an Adonis vessel, he had too much self-esteem to delegate the task to someone with more experience, especially someone who he considered a rival.

Shura turned to Surrett as he came running, huffing and puffing. “Station units with scanners at every airport, hospital, bus, and train station. Set up checkpoints on Highways 6, 228, and 170. Mobilize the coastguard and have them take position at the mouth of the gulf. Conduct a bed to bed search at every hospital. I know we hit at least one of them.”

We need more scanners.

“And get us more Penetra scanners, Minister.”

Local law enforcement is not equipped to deal with this situation.

“Get me real soldiers, not these fools,” Shura snapped. “Call in the Indian special forces.”

“But Adonis,” said Surrett, “calling in the military will raise questions.”

“You mean, get
me
real soldiers,” Rurik said. “You forget your place, Shura.”

Young Rurik is trying to make a name for himself on the operational and military side, so he is particularly sensitive to rank and protocol. It gives you no advantage to antagonize him on such small matters.

Shura looked deferentially to the young man. “Apologies. Your orders, Father?”

Rurik paused. “The airport and docks. Shut them down. Put out a warrant for their arrest. Five foreigners should not be too difficult to locate.”

“Shutting the airport down is problematic,” said Shura coolly. “A Penetra sweep should be sufficient. A coastal blockade is easier to enforce than searching through thousands of containers. A warrant will be ineffectual. There's no need to drag in the judicial system. Working through the minister should be sufficient. Other than that, your orders will be carried out.”

No need for snark.

Rurik pulled up a map of the region. “Damn these incompetent Indian police. The Prophus could be anywhere.”

“They're heading southwest toward Crate Town.”

“How do you know?”

She held up her tablet. “I ordered one of our operatives to plant a tracer on the vehicle when they arrived. Just in case.”

“Then why are you still standing here?” he raged.

Shura looked to the side as four police SUVs pulled up. “I took the liberty of calling them up as soon as the Prophus escaped into the van.” She spoke to the nearest officer. “Inspector, you're with me.” She turned to Surrett. “Gather the rest of the police. Follow as soon as possible.”

Moments later, Shura led a train of police vehicles toward the slum. She had five Genjix agents and twenty police officers with her. She checked her tablet. The van had entered Crate Town and was heading toward the gulf. Did they have transportation awaiting them? How could they? According to Riseevar, the team had just arrived that day. Could they already have an escape plan in place?

The van was moving erratically once it entered the slum, making several odd turns and crisscrossing major streets as if it were trying to throw them off.

What are they doing?

She contacted Surrett. “Is the coastal blockade up yet?”

“Yes, Adonis,” he replied. “Three boats already on patrol were rerouted. Two more are en route, and six more have been activated. I'm on my way to Crate Town now with sixty police.”

That is not enough, but it will have to do for now. Send units to guard the south side of the Tapi River and a search party to Hazira Mangroves. If the Prophus evade the patrols northwest, then they are as good as lost.

The van came to a stop with Shura still five minutes behind. She instructed two of the vans to break off and head directly to the other main intersections. With a spot of luck, they could encircle the coverage of the Penetra scanners and pick up the vessels' trail.

“Sirens off. Go in quiet,” she ordered.

Six minutes later, a swarm of police surrounded the abandoned van. It was too late, though. The Prophus were long gone, their tracks covered, and there wasn't a blip on the Penetra scanner.

“Any signals?” she asked the other squads positioned nearby.

The responses all came back negative. Shura swore. How had they moved away so quickly?

They knew they were being followed and must have dropped off the two vessels at one of their sharp turns. That is the only way they could have escaped.

Shura studied the pitch black buildings of the slum. Crate Town was too large and dense, with too many places to hide. She did not have enough resources on hand to conduct a door-to-door search, especially at this hour.

Depending on what materials many of these buildings were made from, the scanners might not even be powerful enough to penetrate some of these walls. The equipment the police used for the ambush tonight wasn't of the highest quality.

Cameron Tan had escaped. For now.

It is a safe bet they are hiding somewhere in this slum. Containment is now the priority.

“Where else could they be?” she murmured.

Check the home.

“Unlikely, but worth a shot.”

Shura contacted the minister again. “Pull all forces back and set up checkpoints at every street leading in and out of Crate Town. When police reinforcements arrive, spread them out until they completely blockade the entire perimeter of the slum. None of them gets out. Take a squad and pay Ella Patel's home a visit. Perhaps Riseevar left some clues regarding their whereabouts. Stay there until morning in case they return. When is the military arriving?”

“I'm working on it,” said Surrett. “Hopefully within a few days.”

“A few days is too late. I don't care if you have to wake up the Chief of the Army Staff. Do it now. I want the military here by morning.”

“Yes, Adonis.”

Shura hung up the phone and signaled to the policeman wielding the scanner. “All right, pull back to the perimeter. We're locking them in.”

Thirty-Two
Truths

The Genjix came down on the Prophus suddenly and mercilessly. History came to know the birth of our civil war as the Spanish Inquisition. Thousands of Prophus and their hosts were imprisoned, stripped of whatever rank and position they held.

Like most Prophus, I was not prepared for the onslaught. The Genjix leveraged their hosts' superior numbers, political positions and wealth to openly hunt us down. This public outbreak of violence was unheard-of at the time. Our kind had always operated in the shadows. Now both factions used humanity as their pawns as they openly waged a war that rages to this day.

W
iry Madras did not seem
happy to see Ella when she walked into her establishment. But then Madras never seemed happy to see any of her patrons. That was the one advantage of owning the best bath house and laundry cleaning service in all of Crate Town; you could be as mean as you wanted to your customers, and they all happily put up with it.

She was especially mean to all the girls who used to work for her, since she always offered them a pretty steep discount when they used her services. That was the thing about Wiry Madras. The old woman had a heart as big as her tiny body, even if most of it was as dark as her soul.

She crossed her arms as Ella walked inside the front lobby. “You again, Black Cat? What are you doing that you have to wash every day? It's not healthy, especially since what I charge you barely covers the hot water. Also, your laundry isn't ready. I need to have Kaea wash it again. There's some stains in there that…” Her voice trailed off when she noticed the five additional obviously military-like bodies walk in after Ella. There was only the briefest of pauses before she went off on Ella again. “You stupid girl. What did I tell you about bringing trouble to my door?” Ella opened her mouth to reply, but Wiry Madras cut her off. She bowed to Nabin, the one brown person in the group who she must have assumed was the one in charge. “Officer, I don't know who this wretched girl is. I'm just a humble old merchant. Whatever she said–”

“They're with me,” said Ella.

“Well then.” Wiry Madras eyed the dangerous but exhausted looking crew up and down, probably trying to decide if they were worth the trouble. “Water is still boiling if you want it hot. Five hundred rupees. Cold baths only two hundred. If you have laundry, it's by the–”

“We need a place to stay.”

Wiry Madras shook her head. “I take in homeless girls, not strapping big men in uniforms. These people are obviously trouble. I won't have that in my–”

“We'll pay you a hundred Euros a day.” Cameron held up one finger. “One room, total privacy, and your silen–”

“Welcome, welcome, my friends, to Wiry Madras's.” She opened her arms magnanimously and stepped to the side. “Right this way.”

Wiry Madras shooed one of the girls to prepare a room and then gave them a guided tour of the four large communal pools and the dozen smaller individual tubs, past the laundry room where ten of Madras's girls were hand-washing clothes, to the back of the building.

It brought Ella back to her early days in Crate Town. After being run out of Metal Mountain by the gangs, she had survived on the street for a few weeks before Wiry Madras took her in. The old woman had put a roof over her head, given her a mattress, fed her two meals a day, and then put her to work for fifteen hours at a time.

It was hard, and Ella hated Wiry Madras for much of it, but she loved the old hag as well. The woman had protected her and the rest of the girls when they were most vulnerable, and had helped them move on with their lives when it was time for them to go. She still remembered the day she had left. Wiry Madras had given her a hug – the first that Ella could remember – and slipped five thousand rupees into her pocket. It had brought Ella to tears.

Wiry Madras slapped her on the back of the head. “Pay attention, Black Cat. Listen, you keep your thugs here in line. Walk in through the back door. I don't want them to spook my good customers.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

Wiry Madras turned to the others. “One more thing. The price does not include bath and laundry services. If you want a hot bath, it's ten Euros. For a cold one, it's five. Laundry is ten Euros per basket.”

“What?” Nabin exclaimed. “Earlier, you said it was five hundred rupees.”

“That's international business for you,” Wiry Madras shrugged. “If there's nothing else…”

Ella exchanged glances with Cameron, and then gingerly raised a hand. “There's one more thing, ma'am.”

“What is it, cat?”

“We have a dead body in the van. We need you to store it for us.”

Wiry Madras looked as if they were all crazy. Negotiations went downhill from there.

E
lla found
some time alone on the roof of Wiry Madras's four-story building later that day. By now, the team had settled in, taken baths, and eaten. Madras was pulling out all the stops and catering to them as if they were staying at the Taj Lake Palace. She was probably making a killing too, although it seemed money was no object to these Prophus foreigners, or at least they had no idea what things should cost in this part of the world.

When Wiry Madras had asked for a thousand Euros to store Dubs, Ella had gotten indignant on behalf of the Prophus, even though she felt a greater allegiance to Madras. It was outrageous, but Cameron had accepted her demands without a fuss. Even the old woman seemed surprised that he agreed to her initial offer. At the very least, he could have asked for some free baths or something.

You cannot ignore me forever. You will have to deal with this awkward situation sooner or later.

Ella might not be able to ignore that traitorous alien forever, but she was certainly going to try. At the very least, she was going to pretend that parasite wasn't living in her body right now.

The situation is a lot more complicated than you realize. I am doing what is best for both of us. Your life depends on it.

Why should she care what this stupid alien was thinking, anyway? All this time, Io had made Ella think she was her friend. Now, she knew this flaky two-faced liar had tricked her, had used her. She had only pretended to be Ella's friend. In fact, she could never trust Io again. That no-good traitorous backstabbing manipulating snitch had gotten good people killed.

I have my reasons. You are still young. I have been on this planet since before humans walked the Earth. There is much you do not understand about the way things are in this world.

Ella did her best to tune Io out as she sat on the roof with her legs dangling over the edge. Her view wasn't great. Madras owned the entire building, but her four floors paled in comparison to the neighboring six- and seven-clusters nearby. All she ended up being able to see were the side walls of other clusters, save for the main street in front. Still, it was high enough that the noise on the ground felt distant.

This day has been trying and you are still in shock. Get some rest. Come back to me with an open mind tomorrow. I will explain everything. It will be for the best.

A little while later, she felt someone approach from behind. She tensed and reached for a knife near her thigh. No one knew she was up here. She had run away from the group at her earliest opportunity. Her nerves were on tilt from the day's violence, and she was having trouble processing her recent revelation.

“Hey Ella, mind if I join you?” Cameron said.

When Ella didn't answer, he invited himself and sat down next to her, kicking his legs up over the side. Neither said a word as they stared at the setting sun. She honestly would rather have been alone, partially because that was the company she usually kept, but mainly because she was afraid she might accidentally leak that her stupid stinking alien was a stupid stinking traitor. After all, it was all she could do right now not to blurt it out.

Listen to me very carefully. They cannot know what you think you know. Remember, the only way anyone can get to me is by getting through you. Hear me out first. In time, you will realize that our goals are aligned.

“Just shut up, alien! Can't you take the hint? I don't want to talk to you. The Genjix killed my amma, and you convinced me you were fighting them. And now I find out you're one of them!”

Ella might have been raging at Io in her head, but her anger must have been painted on her face. Cameron looked at her worriedly. “Are you sure you're all right?” he asked. “Did I or my team do something to offend you?”

Tell them everything is fine. Trust me, you do not want to give me away. You say anything and at the very least, they will cut off all support. That means no more stipend and no more training from Manish. Is that what you want?

Ella grimaced. She felt trapped either way. She was stuck in this predicament as long as Io inhabited her, and there was nothing she could do to rid herself of this blasted Quasing. It took today's harrowing events for her to realize how serious this alien war was. She couldn't just hide in her container here in Crate Town any longer. She was involved in something way over her head. Sooner or later, someone was going to catch her.

I can give you a way out. Let me explain everything once we are alone.

“Fine, but if I don't like your answer, I'm turning you in.”

You do that and you will have signed your own death warrant.

“Don't threaten me, alien. I won't be blackmailed.”

Just assure Cameron for now that you are fine.

Ella swallowed her anger and threw Cameron a weak smile. “I have a headache, and Io's being an asshole. That's all.”

Cameron chuckled. “Emily always did say Io was more trouble than she was worth.”

“For an alien that's supposed to be millions of years old, she makes a lot of dumb decisions,” said Ella. “Is your alien like that too?”

Cameron shook his head. “Tao's usually on point. He used to be in the likes of Genghis Khan and Lafayette and other military geniuses. He invented Tai Chi.”

Now he is just bragging.

“All Io has inhabited are a bunch of people I have never heard of. I must have a defective alien.”

“Perhaps.” Both Cameron and Ella laughed.

No need to be insulting.

“You deserve it.”

“I just wanted to thank you personally,” said Cameron. “Your warning at the factory bought my team the precious seconds we needed to escape.”

“I led you to that trap,” said Ella. “Mr Dubs died.”

“If you hadn't warned us, we all would have. You saved our lives today, Ella Patel. My team and I owe you our gratitude.” He held out his hand.

Ella shook it, but inside she quailed. It was eating her up. She was the one responsible for all this in the first place.

In this instance, you are innocent.

“I should have figured you out months ago.”

You give me far too little credit.

“You also saved me when that last guy at the van got the jump on me,” Cameron continued. “I personally owe you my thanks for that as well.”

“You're welcome.” The words came out hardly more than a whisper. Ella's face flushed, partially from how much of that fight was sheer luck and partially from all these excessive compliments. It was just too much, and she wasn't used to it. It felt weird.

“Is this a private party?” a voice piped up from behind. “Or can anyone crash?”

Both Ella and Cameron looked over as Nabin strolled up.

“Something up?” Cameron asked. “What's with your girlfriend there?”

Ella's face flamed until she realized he was referring to the rifle Nabin had strapped around his shoulder.

“Lam decided we should start a guard rotation. I drew the short straw.” The Prophus agent sat on her other side and placed the rifle on the ground. He checked their hands. “Anyone have booze?”

Cameron shook his head. “I asked the madam for some earlier. She tried to charge me so much I thought we were back in South Korea.”

Nabin laughed. “That one nightclub, man. Cameron, I warned you. You just about popped a vein in your neck when you got that bill.”

Cameron made a face. “Yeah, that didn't go over well back at base. Audit flagged it and escalated it to my mom. You believe that?”

“His amma?” Ella asked.

Nabin grinned and nudged her with his elbow. “Our glorious commander here has the additional great honor of being the son of Jill Tesser Tan, the Keeper and leader of the Prophus.”

Ella's eyes widened. “You really are an important person.”

Cameron blushed. “I prefer to keep that on the down low.”

“Your amma runs the whole thing and she lets you come to places like this?”

He tapped the side of his head. “The host follows his Quasing's specialty. In my case, Tao is one of our best covert operatives.”

The host follows the Quasing… Ella wondered what that made her. Did that mean she would be marked as a traitor as well?

Or you could just follow my lead next time.

“By the way,” Nabin said, “Lam wants to talk to you. She and Dana are taking inventory. We need to source more supplies. We lost most of our gear when the shit hit the fan.”

Cameron looked at Ella. “Can you help with that?”

She nodded. “I know people. Crate Town is mine.”

“I kind of figured. I'll get you a list.” Cameron patted her on the shoulder and stood up. He stretched and winced. A groan escaped his lips and he touched his lower back again. She couldn't help but notice the muscles rippling underneath his loose shirt. If only his face was as nice to look at as the ones on those people who were trying to kill them.

Nabin and Ella watched until Cameron disappeared down the stairwell. He leaned into her and Ella felt her heart beat faster. She still wasn't sure what she saw in him. Maybe it was the way he always smiled, maybe it was because he was her bodyguard during that firefight, or maybe it was just because she felt safe.

BOOK: The Rise of Io
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