Toxic (75 page)

"Jool'Kameha vea," he said.

"It's Elaine. Um... Was that a greeting that I just heard?"

The human?
That was unexpected.

"Basically."

The pause that followed said as much as the words. She was not acting of her own accord.

"Jool is beside you, right? He asked you to contact me."

A new pause. Jave's rootlets retracted.

"You told me that you were here to help us. Is that still the case?"

"Why do you doubt it? What did Jool tell you?"

"You have the precursor to the antidote. Here, they have the other elements of the product, a type of worm... I don't know what they're called."

She wasn't answering the questions directly.

"Oksan worms or flesh-eaters," Jave added.

"Yes, those. They can repair the bodies."

"I know. And they can't wake up the humans that are then placed in cryostasis? If I'm not mistaken."

"No, they can't."

Jool's presence on Earth explained the presence of the teeznine, the Kroon nanotubes that only he could have brought, and of course, the virus. According to officer Kuhn, the Exthyne ship had crashed several octans before the invasion. That undoubtedly meant preparations and tests on subjects before going on to global contamination. The Sahara, Siberian and even New York laboratories all had one element in common: the search for an antidote. They needed to test the virus out to see if it worked for humans and according to the expected parameters.

"I would like to talk with Jool."

"We have to talk about the future of my friends," Elaine protested, "and that of the whole planet."

"I completely agree, but we need to clarity a few points first."

Jave waited for a moment. Then, his old friend came on the line. The emissary got straight to the point.

"Test site zero, where is it?"

Silence ensued, expressing Jool's annoyance.

"It's not on Earth," he revealed. "I needed to carry out virus tests at a base that was totally isolated and inaccessible to humans."

"I see. Where did you take your test subjects? To the Moon?"

"No, I found a world more adapted to our needs, although too cold and with no water."

When Jool told him the name of the planet, Jave felt that he had an opportunity.

Given the circumstances, the decision to do battle was ripening, as with the hostilities initiated, it would be impossible to go back. And they needed to win. They were far away from getting there, Naakrit predicted.

However, he needed to strike first, sending a strong signal to the Poisoners and to discourage others from taking their chances. Weakness attracted cowards and enticed them to dare. Leaving behind the smallest doubt as to his determination to protect his property was out of the question.

The Collective imposed very strict conflict laws, which made any war more or less inconceivable. However, this discipline was relaxed beyond its borders, contributing to the myth of places where groups could let out their rage, and where fleets containing several octains of units could confront one another. It was a necessary release, according to the experts, to let off the excess energy of species from all parts.

However, holdings constituted sanctuaries exempt from this, as to allow for their peaceful exploitation by their holders. Otherwise, the Combinates, Merchant Princes and consortiums would refuse to invest in them. For the moment, the Poisoners were keeping to the edge of the zone covered under his exploitation contract and because of this, they weren't breaking any rules. Their intentions were clearer: they wanted to draw the tamers far from their base.

A tactic as old as the Three Galaxies.

Even though his scales enticed him to give them his all, he postponed the attack order. The intelligent solution was to leave the initiative to the enemy. And to wait.

Pay attention to something else
, he thought, turning away from the display of the HQ room. Around him, the virtual workspaces gave off their glimmering colors. The service troopers consulted the information and data flows, each of them occupied with controlling their own operations area. Once of them caught his attention.

His claws activated a small symbol on the map. Europe. That damned emissary had taken away two of his men, who he would have rather charged with more productive tasks. The Lynian assured him that he was working to find an antidote. His devotion left him confused. The epidemic had hastened his intervention and the more elements he gathered, the more he told himself that his invasion of Earth had been anticipated. If the Lynian was in on it, why would he go out of his way to help him when it would have been enough for him to take advantage of his difficulties in meeting his delivery quota?

The Primark opened up a direct link with his second in command.

"
Kjet, net'kna thou. Preska.
"

"
Haj!
"

The reptilian officer crossed the doorway of the operations room less than three minutes later. Naakrit pointed to the screen. Botcams retransmitted a flow of information from the city where Jave had set up camp with the Säzkari.

"Can we establish the emissary's duplicity?"

"We don't have any proof."

"Do we need any?"

"Us, no. The Combinate, yes."

The Merchant Princes considered Lynians to be the holders of a talent equal to that of an essential resource, rare, and the loss of which would raise numerous questions. Without mentioning the degradation of the customer relationship or even worse, suspicion. This even would destroy their confidence in the supplier; in other words, him.

"We can make up proof," Naakrit whistled.

"The ship the Exthyne," Kjet reflected. "Did the Kathari identify its occupants?"

The Primark's forked tongue whipped his upper lip.

"One sole passenger. Lynian. Most likely."

Kjet stiffened. His claws slid out at the end of his thick fingers.

"With an intervention team, I can be in Rome in less than an octain of minutes and bring him to your feet."

"Too direct."

"An accident?" Kjet then proposed. "It will take longer to organize, but is feasible within a reasonable time frame."

Naakrit got up out of his chair and walked towards the bay window flooded with beneficial sunlight.

"I think that Jave is rolling us around in the sand. He knows about his fellow creature. He's trying to get in contact with him."

"Maybe he's on Earth to help the humans," his second officer suggested.

He whistled in mockery, as the idea seemed so ridiculous to him. How could one Lynian alone attempt to save a practically extinct civilization? However, he did recognize that that would explain a lot of things.

"I want your team to capture them. The both of them. We will question them like we have to and then next, we will put them in the oxygenation chamber. As for our customer, we can tell them that such a planet, with its atmosphere low in carbon dioxide, and a defective respiratory material, were fatal to the emissary. We will work out the details, of course."

"And the humans?"

"They are products with a commercial value. You know very well what you should do with them. There's only one last stop for them: Dubai."

His officer bowed his bony head.

"
Haj
, Primark."

When Kjet left the room, Naakrit opened up a new uplink.

"Emissary Jave, I would like to enquire about your progress."

The call from the head mercenary didn't surprise Jave. Naakrit was acting within his role by ensuring that operations were going smoothly and this wasn't an exception. His talent was aroused by the Primark's high-pitched questions. The presence of the Poisoners must have increased his stress, the Lynian thought.

Naakrit seemed to be relaxed. As always, Jave could perfectly imagine his closed claws and the nervous ups and downs of his snout. He could detect his desire to lecture him, which he avoided, for fear of offending him, which would lead to consequences.

"Emissary, how are your experiments going?"

"We're only in the preliminary stages according to the Säzkari. I still have hope. Where are the Poisoners Clan? Have you made the decision to chase them away?"

"
Njet
. That is what they are expecting me to do, for me to expose myself."

"Of course, Primark."

"The presence of your fellow creature on Earth is becoming clearer."

His talent set off an alarm in his mind.

"New evidence?"

The mercenary dexterously avoided a direct response.

"He may be trying to contact you. Maybe he already has."

Naakrit was testing him. At this point, their partnership was reaching a sort of tipping point.

"That would be a very surprising development."

"I'm sure, but I would like to be notified if he does."

"It goes without saying."

"Thank you, Emissary."

Naakrit cut the link.

Jave remained in the middle of the Coliseum. Confused. The impression resembled that of an odoriferant peat that was losing its humidity, becoming more and more arid. Behind his apparent state of relaxation, his talent had detected a hardening of the reptilian.

He rushed towards the sparkling door and crossed it.

The Säzkari was in front of a cryo-coffin covered with a fine dusting of frost. Inside it, a human was sleeping, hooked up to the machine by tubes and cables.

"Change of plans," Jave announced.

The doctor spread his upper limbs. "Right in the middle of my experiment? I still don't know if I can bring them back. The smallest change in environment variables could complicate things. I need to control all parameters."

"It's no longer possible to remain here. We're setting off."

"You didn't mention returning to Dubai. I imagine that you have an idea under your scales?"

"Yes. We're going to transport this cryo-coffin and leave the others. Only bring materials that are strictly necessary, as we have a very short time frame."

"What's happening?"

"I've crossed the point of no return."

"I hope that this doesn't affect our agreement once the mission is finished."

"No. You will have your teacher position."

Reassured, the reptilian pointed to the tables occupied by bodies.

"And them?"

Jave observed them. He had made mistakes and the price was always too high.

"We're sending them to Dubai with the two troopers."

It was time to get the Primark away from Earth, he thought. For that to happen, he needed a much bigger piece of bait than the Poisoners Clan.

H
aving lived through similar situations - however, rarely worse - Masters knew that there were no alternatives waiting for them, even if that meant feeling helpless and counting the knots in his stomach.

Like clay statues stuck in a passage barely larger than a storm water drain, they didn't take their eyes off of the rags, from which skin fell off in chunks. The zombie waded up to his waist in a briny sea, which let off a pestilential reek. The colonel reassured Alva with one hand on her back and another on his 45. The singer was panting but remained calm. With the crisis having come to its end and her demons temporarily set aside, the soldier asked himself how long he had until the next one.

On the other side of the bars, the creature let off a series of grunts. Its bony fingers banged against the oily surface. The living dead moved away a meter or two and then retraced its steps. This hesitant roundabout repeated several times before being interrupted for no apparent reason. Guttural rumbling noises followed, along with the ejection of a brownish liquid form its mouth.

Alison gagged and then turned away from the repugnant scene. The head of the infected creature bobbed. It made a quarter turn and showed its profile.

It's going to spot us
, Masters thought.

Maybe it could smell them, which would explain why it constantly came back to the tunnel opening. How many L-Ds were wandering around in the moat? Only one needed to raise the alarm for the pack to follow. But they couldn't stay here. Not with a woman in withdrawal and a girl on the point of throwing up the contents of her stomach.

The marine slowly turned towards the biologist, who nodded as a response to his silent questioning. He had understood. Masters raised his 45 and aimed at the head covered in purulent wounds and pustules. The living-dead turned around. It was just on the other side of the grating, impossible for him to miss. The soldier's finger caressed the trigger.

An explosion resounded. The colonel removed his index finger from the trigger. He felt the vibration through the ground. Immediately, the empty gaze of the L-D turned towards the source of the explosion. Its throat let out an incomprehensible sound and then it disappeared.

"Fuck! What was that?" Bruce asked.

"Someone is playing with explosives. We would best get out of here before the zombie comes back."

The marine felt the solidness of the bars built into the concrete. What type of architect would design an evacuation tunnel just to end it like this? It didn't make sense. He started to look for a grip, a handle, anything.