Toxic (81 page)

When she raised her head, she found herself face to face with a smiling face. She wanted to scream, but the finger on her lips and the AK pointed at her dissuaded her.

"Keep calm, junkie," murmured the man, who she recognized right away.

Dan took a bag out of his pocket and waved it in front of her eyes. Alva's pupils went wide upon seeing the white powder.

"If you're smart, you'll have your hit. But I want you to do exactly what I say. Understood?"

She nodded.

Two men came out of a bush, and one of them lowered his hood. He looked like an albino.

"The slut?" he said.

"Yes, my Reverend, but she will be very obedient. Am I right?"

Alva tried to control her shaking to hide her state of withdrawal. However, the sole fact of knowing that there was cocaine within reach provoked the opposite effect. Dan watched her, a cruel smile on his lips. The three men grabbed her, taking her away from the house.

"I know what you did to Hans; I saw the result. I imagine that bastard asked for it, but it wasn't you who put the bullet in his head."

She shook her head. If she told them everything, she would have the powder. Her mind focused on that possibility and the chemical liberation that would follow. These guys could do what they wanted with her and none of it would matter. Her mind would wander elsewhere while they did their thing.

"Only the young guy and the nigger interest me. Most of all the nigger."

Her eyes didn't look away from the transparent plastic bag. The pendulum movement hypnotized her to the point that she lost all other bearings. Her vision was reduced to a tunnel.

"She's a total junkie," a voice declared.

"Yeah," Dan muttered. "We're going to take her with us. That would be too bad, wouldn't it, my Reverend?"

"A lamb to sacrifice," the latter said.

Dan's face was replaced with the baggie. She squinted.

"Are they upstairs?"

"Yes."

"Other weapons aside from the nigger's 45?"

Aside from a few improvised stakes, they hadn't found much in the area. In any case, nothing that could rival machine guns. She shook her head.

"She earned her dose, right guys?"

She made out their mocking laughter but didn't care. As soon as the powder was spread onto a piece of glass, she rushed at it.

T
he evidence of a Lynian plot was accumulating under his claws. Naakrit felt the need to close them around the creatures and crush them. The reptilian raised his vibroblade and cut an infected creature in two. The product, separated from its legs at the height of the pelvis, continued to crawl on the floor. With an enraged gesture, he crushed its skull with a smash of his boot. Bones and flesh burst under his sole.

The next one appeared immediately. It met an almost identical end, its face crushed by the handle of his weapon. When the spoiled products had gotten what they deserved and the Primark felt relieved, he looked at the remains dispersed across the laboratory. The main purpose of these facilities was beyond him. He only understood that someone had doubled them. Somewhat. Had they been used to create an antidote? To test the virus?

Determining this required a meticulous inspection, and therefore time, which he didn't have. Was it really that important in the end? Gathering evidence was good, but not enough.

Naakrit started a quick exploration of the other areas. Rooms, hallways and furniture didn't have human dimensions. He moved around in comfort. Each of the armchairs in the control room could have fit two products. As soon as he was sitting, the reptilian activated the displays. The system asked for a security code. Obviously. He requested the assistance of a pair of bots, which connected to it to inject a viral attack complex. After a few moments, the welcoming screen was erased and symbols lined up in the middle of the wall in front of him. With his hand, he selected the file containing the last entries in the system. He chose the file at the beginning of the list, which was replaced by familiar traits.

A Lynian appeared. His smooth face took up half of the screen. It wasn't the emissary's face.

"This is my last report. The purchase of the holding has been finalized and the mercenaries are on the verge of arriving in this solar system. I don't know when their invasion will start, probably in less than a few years local time. My tests indicate that the virus will work. The results on the humans that I picked up and brought to Mars are conclusive. Transformed into these creatures, they become unfit for consumption and will survive under extreme conditions, even deprived of food. The hunger is an unpleasant secondary effect that I haven't managed to get around. As for the antidote, things are more complicated than initially thought. I'm going to need the help of competent humans. Therefore, I must return to Earth. All of that oxygen will make me sick, but..."

Naakrit stopped the video feed.

"Unfit for consumption."

That Lynian had sabotaged his invasion. The Primark took out a transparent chip from his pocket and put it on the console. It became translucent and then turned blue when it made contact with the metal. The displays were filled with information and the system made a copy, which wouldn't take longer than two octains of seconds. This information constituted solid proof that he was planning to report to the authorities of the Collective to obtain compensation for the damage caused and at least, the suppression of any claims of mismanagement or attempt at destabilization. The mercenary leader opened a link to his tamer.

"The Poisoners are still decelerating. Their trajectory hasn't changed and remains in conformity with our predictions at all points."

"Where are our forces?"

"They will soon be in position."

"I'm coming back up as soon as possible."

"
Haj
! Primark."

Naakrit ended the communication and picked up the chip, which had a violet color. It went into a secure compartment in his armor. It was time to leave, he judged. The situation was now very clear.

Jool's visit had confirmed his premonitions, but had also dampened his hopes. This laboratory, as well as others, spread across places kept secret, would never treat five million units in the given time. Jave kept from mentioning this sensitive number. The humans probably imagined that they were capable of preserving their planet and that once the mercenaries were chased away, they would get their normal lives back.

A normal feeling, but unrealistic.

"With the cryo-fluid and precursor, thanks to you, we have the last pieces," Jool declared.

Near the entrance, Elaine and the one called Richardson exchanged smiles and a few words. Jave contented himself with observing them. Was it too soon to tell them the truth? The emissary brought his old fried a little further away from the bridge. The movement stirred up suspicious glances and the raising of a row of guns in their direction.

"They're very nervous," Jool warned him.

"These facilities are compromised or will be soon. The troopers are occupied with the intrusion of the Poisoner's vessels, but that won't last."

"The Poisoners?" Jool asked, agitated. "You made the Poisoners come all the way here?"

Large gestures attracted Elaine's attention and she gave him a sign, her face confused. Jave understood that she was asking what was happening. He didn't give her any explanation.

"I hired their services for many reasons. First of all, they are rivals who would be happy at the idea of getting into a fight with Naakrit Ot of the Kulari Clan. Outside of the Collective, most everything is allowed. Next, this flash raid forces the Primark to abandon the defense of Earth. According to my information, all of the tamers have left for Mars. Only the logistics station, the cargo ships and the T-Js remains.

"The Poisoners!" Jool interrupted him.

The rootlets of Jool's stained forearms retracted and he breathed in a puff of carbon dioxide, which pulsated through his nasal caps.

"I needed a believable threat. They're good, according to what they say..."

"
Rjek
! According to you, what will happen when they come to gas the planet? You don't know."

"I negotiated," Jave admitted to him.

The hollow whining that followed must have been particularly audible, as the nurse furrowed her eyebrows listening to him. Jave moved a hand in the same way that he had previously done.

"Everything is OK," Jave told him.

"This is a disaster," Jool said. "A waste."

The emissary stared at his old friend. The edge of his nasal vents was cracked and the colored plaques seemed to stretch.

"What is sure is that we can't stay here. We need to leave as fast as possible."

"Yes, we can change places," Jool confirmed. "A platform in the China Sea."

"No, you don't understand. We need to leave Earth. I negotiated an evacuation with the Poisoners. We can save several millions of humans."

"And how are you going to transport them?"

"In cryo-coffins. It's the best way, according to the GenoSaran engineer that I met."

"Did you also make a deal with them?
Rjek
! It doesn't matter; I get the idea that you planned everything. But the humans will never accept this idea."

"They don't have the choice."

"It's their planet; put yourself in their shoes."

Put himself in the human's shoes, Jave thought. A strange point of view. His friend had clearly spent too much time in their company. He had to open his pores and feel which way the mud was moving.

"I didn't plan everything," Jave admitted. "Once Naakrit understands that he has lost everything, he's going to..."

The emissary interrupted himself and looked at the humans, who were looking at him in a strange way. He started once again:

"They have an expression for that: scorched earth politics."

He noticed Jool's nasal vents shaking.

"The mercenaries have a planet-scorcher?"

Jave took a step back. His head turned towards the horizon covering the orange sun.

"The initiation console is on the logistics station, in a locked area. Naakrit has the codes."

"Do you know what that weapon would do to this planet? We need to neutralize it. You could use your T-J to strike the location of the weapon."

Jave's eyes hardened and became metallic.

"You know me. I'm not the type to make that sort of sacrifice. And they would kill me first. We're going to need to scheme."

"Of course. I imagine there's a detail that you hid from your human?"

"She's not my human."

Jave went back towards Jool. "We owe them the truth, even if they don't want to hear it," the emissary said.

On the gangway of his tamer, the Primark's piercing gaze scanned the mineral convolutions, flying over the craters and canyons. Then, the lock-on sight stopped. It framed a metal ledge on the edge of a closed valley. The view grew until revealing the bottom.

"Open fire," he ordered.

The trooper in charge of the weapons system obeyed, and his claw touched the corresponding symbol on his display. The tight beam of light razed the lower atmosphere. The targeted area lit up and the scanners reported the increase in temperature at the impact point. Once they were sublimed due to the lack of atmospheric pressure, the smoke rings revealed a charred tumor on the side of the canyon.

One problem fixed, Naakrit told himself.

During his career, he had won many fights. The experience acquired in his octans enriched his knowledge, which was structured like a tactical database. His four ships would neutralize the Poisoners. While they offered superior capabilities, the large vessels filled with gas couldn't accomplish miracles.

The panorama of reds and browns switched to a synthetic representation in which trajectories converged at a precise point around Mars. A window opened and unleashed its feed of telemetric information. The mercenary in charge of detection isolated a group of symbols.

"Here," he said. "They're using more thrust than necessary."

Naakrit clenched his claws. His tongue whipped in and out several times.

"Either they're loaded to the brim or they have to conserve enough kinetic energy."

"Most likely, Primark. They realize that at two against four, their chances of winning are low."

His bony lips closed, blocking the passage of his forked tongue. The Poisoners never came to a place without precise knowledge of the situation. Why were they taking such a risk?

"They are entering into our shooting range," another officer announced.

"Don't attack right away. We'll wait and see."

On the display they watched the gray hulls, each one made up of two diamonds on top of one another, between which they made out bulbous structures. The hatches of their reservoirs were open. Naakrit's eyes opened wide: the gas must be escaping...

All of a sudden, myriads of shining dots sprouted on the windows. Swarms of spheres barely larger than a trunk. Alert messages took over the virtual spheres.

"Mines! They're carrying mines! Thousands!" the officer whistled.

Each charge possessed a lethal radius of several kilometers. They spread across the orbit with the speed of gas in expansion in a confined atmosphere. At the moment, the chances were on the side of the Poisoners. Even by changing their trajectories, the tamers would end up going through this mortal cloud. They didn't have the choice. For the first time in his career, Naakrit realized that he had lost control of the situation and in all likelihood, his scales.