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Authors: Stéphane Desienne

Toxic (27 page)

BOOK: Toxic
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“Emissary Jave.”

The Lynian consulted his bracelet. According to the briefing, they were planning to set off in the direction of Florida in an octain of minutes.

“Is there a problem?”

“No, emissary. The mission will take place as planned at the specified time. I’d like to show you something before our departure.”

His sub-dermal radioles became agitated. Jave studied the reptilian and then verified his carbon dioxide levels.

“Very well. I’m following you.”

After a brief descent via the agrav tube, they arrived at the foot of the tower and then stepped onto the syntho-concrete square. A reddish halo hugged the horizon. The milky river stretched across the celestial vault. The officer directed himself towards the impeccably white and almost transparent domes. Jave could make out the shadows inside, not too numerous by the looks of it. The Nairobi operation wouldn’t change the situation, seeing as the future targets would be treated on the spot.

“The black-skinned human, the one who managed to escape. He had help,” Kjet revealed.

The abza’n Sarejt had mentioned the story, he remembered. However, the Sybarian hadn’t spoke of betrayal or plots. With his words, the lieutenant had just captured the full attention of the Lynian and his talent.

“The accomplice used a field cutter to make a circular opening in the dome’s confinement screen.”

The jails used a magnetic ionization principle which “froze” a layer of air, making it harder than syntho-concrete. The field cutter caused a local demagnetization and the air could flow once again. The operation caused a drop in pressure which was very small but nonetheless measured by security mechanisms.

“How long did it last?”

“Less than a minute.”

“That means that the humans had been warned beforehand so that they would find the right place at the right time. For that escape, there were a lot of them to maximize their chances of success.”

“Around fifty soldiers. Out sentinel drones killed thirty. In the city, the spoiled products devoured fifteen. Four were retaken. Only one managed to get away.”

“I assume that you verified the comings and goings of each trooper.”

“I personally conducted an in-depth investigation, without success. None of them were within a kilometer of the domes at the moment of the recorded drop in pressure.”

“The accomplice could have programmed a drone to make the cut at the planned time.”

“I thought of that. The reports didn’t indicate robot activity in the area.”

Jave turned towards the domes, which resembled the semi-transparent cocoons of numerous insectoid species. The conclusion seemed obvious to him in its confusing simplicity. He wondered if Kjet had thought of it. His motivation was beyond him. Maybe he was turning to a Lynian to help him in his investigation. Jave still had the feeling that Naakrit was trying to distract him with a new enigma. The lieutenant obeyed without discussing his Primark’s orders; he had even killed one of his officers.

“The human got a hold of the field cutter. Someone gave it to him and told him how to use it.”

Kjet didn’t show surprise.

“I can’t think of anything else, emissary.”

The Primark wanted to lead the attack and question the humans because of that, to identify the traitor. In the end, the cure was less important than his vengeance. The order to kill the Sybarian was probably meant to make an example of her to impress the others and to show them that he still held his rank. This opened up possibilities, he told himself. If he discovered the traitor first, he wouldn’t only have a long head start on Naakrit but also an interesting means of exerting pressure.

“Let’s go capture the products, then.”

 

Between two continents and at more than two hundred kilometers altitude, Jave, squeezed into his PAS, observed Naakrit. The Primark was carrying out a complete rundown of the situation. He didn’t neglect any details. The updated information synched on the multitude of tactical screens that surrounded the troops waiting for clear and specific orders. The instructions were repeated and roles distributed. The fifteen over-equipped warriors would have easily beaten human armies, though in reality, they had only ever faced one. Several isolated individuals didn’t mean anything, or almost anything, that is.

Maybe they were wondering about this deployment of forcers and this abundance of precautions for such a small task. They followed their orders, as such was their life as a trooper in the service of the interests of the Primark, whose flare and sense of business assured them a post-service future and profits. The system relied on trust: the trust the soldiers had in their commander.

T
he warm shower had at least convinced the Colombian to stay on the boat, maybe even until the following day. Elaine had run into him in the hallway and for the first time – she could remember – she had seen him smile. Her commander of a father had heaped praise on the importance of personal hygiene and nutrition on a boat. The selection of a cook and a good plumber was of utmost importance in a confined space where dozens of young seamen sweated, bounding with excess energy.

He would have certainly chucked the person responsible for this chaos of pumps behind them into the water, she told herself, crossing a room where the line of sinks displayed an unacceptable layer of scum which covered the glazed tile that was no longer white. The facilities suffered from a lack of maintenance and the ageless pipes barely fed the showers formerly used by the marines. Worrying grunts came up from the depths of the ship while the pipes vibrated like rattlesnakes.

The water ran intermittently, but at least she could wash herself and get rid of the filthy paste which soiled her clothing – thrown into the garbage – and which stuck to her neck. She felt lighter when she came out of the austere cabin.

“You feel alive again, right?” she heard.

The colonel stuck his head through the frame of the opening missing its door. The rooms didn’t have privacy either. She adjusted her towel and then forced herself to give him an enthusiastic smile which highlighted her annoyance and surprise even more.

“It’s… refreshing,” she stammered.

“I didn’t want to disturb you.”

She didn’t believe a word of it. Right when she wanted to take advantage of a moment alone, the soldier took a few steps forward. Elaine leaned back against the wall.

“I can’t stop thinking about the encounter.”

Confused, she frowned and shrugged.

“With the alien,” Masters specified.

The drawing of the immense creature remained engraved in his memory for a long time.

“Yeah. We almost died.”

“I can clearly imagine what you must have gone through.”

Elaine sighed. “Get to the point, colonel.”

“That thing… It wanted Dew, but it didn’t take him and it said that it wouldn’t kill you?”

Lost and exhausted at that moment, she remembered the blood red armor and the invader’s three metal-covered fingers extended towards Dew. The synthetic voice filled her mind. Often, she heard it during the night and woke up with a start.

“You and me know exactly why it’s interested in Dew.”

“Yeah… I’m wondering why exactly the alien didn’t just kill you and take the Asian. That seems logical from its point of view.”

That’s the question
, she told herself. Observing Masters, she felt a sort of enlightening intuition.

“Maybe for the same reason that enticed it to spare you.”

By his abrupt movement back and his surprised look, she realized that she had just hit the mark. She didn’t insist. First of all, she was only wearing a towel and was starting to get annoyed. Second of all, the soldier didn’t give her the time to dig any further. He turned away from her and left the bathroom.

 

Elaine found Dew sitting on the command chair. The boy or teenager hugged his tablet against his chest like a school textbook. It was still hard to guess his age. She could have asked him. She didn’t know if she would get a response, but deep down, she loved his dreamer side, a little lost but not completely elsewhere nor completely there. He was easy to forget in a corner, like an external observer of the group’s life.

The Asian looked beyond the window that looked over the half-open hold and the bow scattered with abandoned materials. She grabbed his shoulders.

“There’s no risk. They’re all locked up and the doors are locked.”

Masters and Hector had passed a part of the afternoon closing the hatches leading to the lower decks, establishing a sort of sanitary line between the front and back of the ship. Bruce dedicated himself to exploring the laboratory. Elaine had refused to go back there, as the torn up bodies behind their glass walls made her sick. They reminded her of the fish bowls on the shelves of the hospital’s research department, directed by doctor Waits. Her colleagues – and friends – had burdened him with the not-so-flattering nickname of
the boogeyman
.

Bruce, more attractive and younger, was far from resembling him. The biologist was capable of handling things on his own. If not answers, he could still dig up clues to reflect on. In any case, they were hoping that he would bring good news, but during the improvised dinner made with the remainder of their supplies stocked on the sailboat and a few cans found in the mess hall, Bruce had let their hopes down a little. He sat down with the others and his furtive glance said enough. Alison, still attached to Elaine, felt the effects.

“I don’t have proof that an antidote exists,” he explained in a sparse voice that let his sincere disappointment show through. “On the other hand, there’s lots of evidence of experiments on the L-Ds.”

They didn’t need him to know that, seeing as the evidence jumped from the walls. Alva picked at some of the chips on her plate, silent and reserved.

“I think that we should continue our investigation here,” the biologist proposed.

The reason visibly escaped Hector.

“What will that change? The planet looks like purgatory, with cities overtaken by the hordes and the rare humans still healthy hide.”

“Or die,” Alva added.

Her reflection added a glacial touch. Masters got the debate back on track efficiently. He addressed Bruce. “Apparently, they recorded their results in notebooks. What did you get from them?”

“Nothing useful. They’re filled with equations and diagrams. I couldn’t find any references to a general idea that would allow us to understand what’s going on here anywhere, let alone something on the experimental protocols they were researching.”

“A discovery, eh? In the end, we’re no better off than before,” Hector mumbled spitefully.

“There’s the cabinet.”

All of them turned towards Elaine.

“I don’t know what substances it contains,” Bruce responded. “The vials are ticketed with a number which seems to be for identification purposes, but without a list we can’t know their composition, except by undergoing lengthy and annoying analyses without modern equipment.”

“We could test them out.”

The unease traveled around the table.

“On us? You’re crazy.”

“No, we have a hold full of infected. We give them the product in each vial and then we wait and see.”

The idea made the diva laugh. “Since you’re the nurse, you’ll be going down to inject their dose with your syringe?”

The remark made Hector laugh and put an amused look on Masters’ face. Elaine sighed.

“In theory, it’s not a bad idea,” Bruce reflected, coming to her aid. “But that means that we’re going to have to stay here for a long time.”

The idea didn’t seem very tempting to the group. Masters pronounced his judgment. “We still have time to think about it. Let’s spend the night here. We’re not risking anything. The L-Ds are under control in the front hold. Each of us has a cabin and a bed. Take advantage of this godsend because it’s not going to last. Lights out in ten minutes; we’re better off being discreet.”

Nobody had anything to say. They were all tired from the journey and the increasing tension of the past days. Following his words, the soldier made an example of himself: he said goodnight before taking leave of them. Since their discussion in the bathroom, he had avoided looking at her. Elaine was tempted to get up when Alva offered her a cigarette.

“You smoke?”

The nurse ogled the pack hesitantly. The world had changed, she told herself. She risked dying in the near future, but not of that vice.

“I’ll come with you.”

The two women descended onto the front deck. The horizon slowly ate away at the heavenly red ball. The tobacco puffs rose above their heads.

“You stopped?”

“Before the invasion, when I became an OR nurse.”

“Ahh, hospitals. I’m familiar with dozens of them. Where’d you work?”

“Jackson Memorial. I started in emergency.”

“Junkies and drunks…”

Elaine smiled at her between puffs.

“Among others. There were also good days.”

The singer wanted female company, just to talk nonsense about their former life. Elaine wondered if she was trying to avoid Hector, who followed her around.

The latter’s cry yanked them out of their stupor. The Colombian was at the top of the look-out post, his arm outstretched.

BOOK: Toxic
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