Toxic (23 page)

And the others?

“They’re taking a vacation in the middle of the war,” she whispered spitefully.

Masters’ dark head slid through the door frame in the middle of the night. Elaine woke up Alison. In less than five minutes, they were on the patio. Without making a noise, they took the path which wound around the lawn towards the dock. The soldier led the way, true to his habits.

As they were approaching the boat, they saw a shadow. In the darkness, it was hard to figure out what it was. She had a bad feeling which was confirmed by the familiar clicking of a shotgun being armed. Masters drew his 45.

“
¡Hola gringos!
If I were you, I’d turn around.”

“Hector?” the marine responded.

“
Sí
.”

“What the hell are you doing there?”

“It seems that in America, an owner can shoot robbers on sight.”

The threat was very clear and the voice of the Colombian was firm. Elaine moved Dew and Alison away and then moved forward.

“Nobody move.”

“This is a misunderstanding,” she started without stopping.

As a reaction, Hector pointed his gun at her.

“I told you. Nobody move!”

Elaine froze, a few meters from the stern.

“Don’t shoot! I can explain.”

“
Es claro
, you decided to flee in the middle of the night with my boat. I know what you’re planning.”

“We can’t stay here, Hector. The island is overrun with infected. Masters drew them towards another neighborhood, but they’ll come back.”

“Good comedian,
la chica, ¿no? El Sitio B
…” he left off, satisfied with the effect he had produced. “You want to go there alone to keep the cure to yourselves.”

“No… you’re mistaken.”

Masters was still pointing his gun at the trafficker. The tension went up a notch with the arrival of Bruce and Alva, who had woken up to the sound of the voices. The situation was at risk of getting worse.

“What’s happening?” the biologist cut in.

All smiles, Hector summed it up in a few words.

“They wanted to run away with my boat.”

“What?” Alva asked, indignant.

The colonel sported a determined look, his eyes fixed on the Colombian. The two men, like wild animals, were sizing each other up. Neither of them lowered their gun. Drama could ensue at any moment.

“Listen to me,” Elaine declared. “We have to leave. Together. The cure is at Site B, and we need to get there as quick as possible.”

“We voted,” Bruce protested.

“You don’t know the whole story to make the right decision.”

“What’s that you’re saying?”

“I… I didn’t tell you everything about that afternoon,” Elaine gasped. “We need to get to Site B before the aliens. We’re in a race.”

“Where’d you hear that from?”

She hesitated and looked at the Asian, who was as still as a wax statue.

“From an alien. Dew and me, we ran into him just over there.”

The barrel of Hector’s gun lowered. Masters turned towards her. An enigmatic expression shadowed his face. The round eyes of their other companions showed surprise. Bruce opened his mouth, but no sound came out. As for Alva, she wasn’t breathing.

H
uman cities all looked the same, Jave thought, in the middle of a road surrounded by skyscrapers half missing their glass and concrete façades. Their rival vertical heights rose up as the common denominator of urban landscapes such as New York, where he would have liked to spend more time to take in the architectural feel. According to the tera-servers, many cities had been proud of their towers, monuments synonymous with wealth which rose towards that same sky that was the origin of their species’ misfortune, a sad repayment for their efforts at gaining meter after meter.

Jave walked along a road not far from the power holding domes, most of them completely empty. His reassuring CO2 flow penetrated his vents and caressed the hair follicles of his nasal walls. Strangely, the heat weighed more than local gravity, which was weaker when compared to that of his world of origin. The air’s dryness didn’t affect him too much. The sea breeze, on the other hand, left a fine white dust on his skin and blocked his body’s oxygen escape vents. With more carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, Earth could have been a pleasant place, or even perfect.

In the distance, he spotted Naakrit in the square in front of the headquarters. He walked up to the Primark, who had just landed with encouraging news. The Nairobi operation would be launched in the next octo-diems. The drones were already making maps of the African capital, which was also characterized by the worship of height with its clusters of buildings. The mercenaries were counting on establishing a perimeter equipped with a power holding dome on top of the former airport, which Jave considered a wise choice even though his opinion didn’t count for much. After a report on the situation which he listened to hesitantly, the reptilian came to a whole other subject which was much more controversial. He tried to make Jave understand what he thought of his initiative.

“Making contact with humans isn’t one of your duties.”

In truth, he wasn’t wrong. Jave didn’t let that get him into a fluster.

“Since our trip to New York and Oleg’s interrogation, we know that their scientists worked on an antidote. The proof collected in Siberia confirms that they were at least at the experimentation stage. The empty sarcophagi pose an essential question.”

Jave let the Primark finish in his place.

“Where are their contents? Don’t take me for a skimmer. What does this have to do with your humans?”

Naakrit’s use of the possessive amused him. He didn’t let it show.

“The survivor is a part of this group.”

“The one who was in the middle of the horde?”

“Healthy individuals are bitten until death. That one there just stayed in the middle of the street arousing the interest of the infected until they got close enough to him before going on their way. He’s the only one to have survived that way.”

The reptilian’s tongue, shining with moisture, whipped the dry air. “Have you found an explanation?”

“No. There was a female.”

“You should have killed her and captured your subject, or even better, taken the both of them.”

“I could have. Like you say, each healthy product is precious merchandise.”

The response seemed to satisfy the Primark.

“Do you think they’ll lead us to the new site?”

“We’ve already visited two, and there are probably more. Also, I’d like to study other sarcophagi. It’s too bad that the Siberian complex was burned down by your second in command.”

“If they think that they’re being tracked, they won’t go anywhere. Relying on pure chance… that’s a strange approach for a Lynian.”

The remark didn’t bug him. There were so many fantastic rumors and stories – some of them true – about the members of his race that he didn’t really listen to them anymore.

“What do you propose?” Jave anticipated.

“By combining the information from the tera-servers, my analysts have unearthed a reference to a lab in the middle of the desert, in the north of the African continent. We take off in an octain of minutes. You’ll accompany me.”

They landed in the middle of the day below a dune, on the edge of a rocky strip. Naakrit pushed on the icon which commanded the T-J’s ramp to open. The burning wind rushed inside. On the horizon shaped by ergs, ochre nuances and shimmering shades danced, deformed by the reflection.

The Sahara, as the humans called it, covered a vast territory on either side of the tropical zone. These large stretches of land that made all vegetable organisms flee closely reflected the reptilian ideal. The mineral heat emanated from the ground and fell from the cloudless sky. Jave didn’t see any shade aside from that created by the T-J.

The sand moved around like salt. Its grains clogged his vents. He sweated profusely to clean them. By doing that, he was risking dehydration. The solution consisted in wearing a PAS or closing his sub-dermal pores.

He opted for the second. Human buildings didn’t have enough space for him to move around with ease wearing combat armor. This one was no exception. The entrance was located behind a rock half-covered by a dune. The steel door didn’t resist the magma ring blasted onto its center. The molten metal droplets vitrified the sand into silica balls at the moment when they entered the tunnel.

Smaller than the ones in New York and Siberia, the complex had three levels. The mechanical scouts spread throughout it without finding spoiled products or any biological presence.
The site has been cleaned
, Jave noted, surveying the first level. The rooms gave the impression of having been arranged, as if their occupants had just left them. The tables were carefully aligned along the walls or in front of the empty cabinets, with the chairs piled in the corners. On the third floor, a room contained one sole sarcophagus. As soon as he went up to it, he understood what he had in front of him. The device, less advanced than the broken examples in the Siberian laboratory, seemed to be from an older generation. He turned its bare frame over and saw that it was missing its electronics and plugs. The assembly looked more like a do-it-yourself project than a successfully completed one. For how long had the humans experimented? And more importantly, had they successfully developed a cure?

“How did you learn of the existence of this site?”

Naakrit leaned on a metal table, laughing. “Coordinates mentioned in an encrypted message.”

“I wasn’t talking about this one which according to the evidence, you’ve known about for a long time. I was talking about Site B, that big ship that the drones are searching for.”

The reputation of Lynians wasn’t undeserved, the Primark realized. Such an aptitude constituted a threat and they were alone in this lost corner in the middle of nowhere. His arm slid towards the sheath of his vibroblade.

“I’d think about that if I were you,” Jave suggested. “You think you can hide me? Before leaving New York, I understood that you had found the human, Oleg and that you questioned him. He was hiding crucial information and to save his life, he gave it to you. I imagine that it wasn’t enough.”

Reptilian nature predisposed them to excel at combat. Faster, more powerful and with an adapted stoutness, Jave knew that he wouldn’t beat the experienced mercenary. The Primark didn’t show surprise or emotion.

“The Combinate will accept it. Accidents happen regularly in operations.”

“Yeah, I imagine that this is about the same sort of setback which put an end to your collaboration with the abza’n Sarejt.”

Naakrit’s arm didn’t waver, still placed on the handle of his vibroblade.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, emissary.”

Jave remained as still as a statue, his body rigid.

“I’m a Lynian. Only facts are relevant to me. Everything else is unimportant.”

“The merchant princes are looking to cheat me out of my holding due to breach of contract, which is the reason for your presence. Why would I trust you?”

“Because the cure for this virus is the global solution to this problem. If you find it, you’ll have your commitments and the Combinate will do good business. All parties will be satisfied.”

It seemed so simple.

After a brief moment of tension, the mercenary relaxed.

“Site B is a boat that we’re trying to locate. The ocean is vast and with the Nairobi operation starting to meet the Kuat cartel’s order, I’ve redeployed out resources and teams.”

“OK. In that case, we’ll let the humans discover it for us.”

“Are you sure that they’ll succeed?”

“I’ve no idea. Sometimes, you have to take a chance.”

Jave requested that the sarcophagus be transported to the HQ. His tongue clicking in agreement, Naakrit exited the laboratory first.

T
o put an end to the gun standoff, Elaine had imposed her conditions: those who wanted to hear her story had to join her and Masters. With the exception of Hector, everyone had accepted. However, the Colombian had followed Alva’s advice and they had finally gotten underway in the middle of the night. Ruling via dictatorship had its merits, she told herself. The search for consensus took too much time, particularly when they had to act fast. She had just seized the power in a race to the cure, to life or to death. Was curing humanity even possible?