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Authors: Stéphane Desienne

Toxic (58 page)

BOOK: Toxic
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I
f the human species really had allies, they sure looked funny, Elaine thought, observing the smooth features of the creature without a nose. Its skin seemed thick, like old leather, with brown and maroon colors. It was difficult to  pierce the secrets hidden by those impenetrable eyes, which were of an almost milky gray. She cleared her voice, stunned by the news and disoriented by the echo of the battle which was resonating in her head, but nonetheless happy to have gotten away after having been so close to such a terrible end. Even though, she thought, she seemed to always be in suspense. And nothing was there to indicate that the aliens would treat her better.

“You are going to save us?”

It didn’t move, like a titan who had come down from its pedestal to consider her fate. A powerful odor emanated from the creature, like that of a race horse which has just finished its race under the rain and in the mud. She felt so vulnerable, insignificant and miniscule on board a machine designed by such colossal creatures. The cargo area was as large as the living room of a house and twice as high.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean by that,” the alien said.

Its lipless mouth barely moved when it talked. That was troubling, as if a ventriloquist was talking to her.

Elaine rolled her eyes.

If these beings from outer space were going to talk like lawyers negotiating a business contract, then they were nuts.

“Seven billion people lived here before you came from... I don’t know where. Are you going to go back home and leave us alone?”

The creature moved, immense and intimidating, and then retraced its steps. It could kill her with a simple swipe of its hand.

“The mercenaries could leave, in fact, bur others would take their place. Your planet, Earth, is... coveted, a situation which condemns your situation.”

She absorbed the information without thinking about what it implied. One of the thing’s upper limbs moved away from its wide torso. A marked hairy patch covered the skin of its forearm. It closed its four fingers and then continued with its explanation.

“I don’t have time to tell you about the events which led to the attack on your world. You must understand that the future of your species is more than compromised. You will have to start from zero once again, or almost. That’s where my presence on Earth comes into play.”

“To rebuild civilization?”

“Something like that. And that can only happen after solving the problem of the cure.”

“It sunk with the ship. You were on board.”

“Your kin have shown themselves to be intelligent. I was able to save a sample which revealed, after analysis, to be a part of the cure.”

Some vaccines were made up of two injections; triple combination therapies associated several molecules. That seemed plausible to her. Surprising but possible.

“A mix of products?”

“At least two. Which means more research sites specialized in the production and mass manufacture of each component, which is rather poor as a strategy.”

Elaine’s gaze plunged towards the floor, deaf to the compliment.

“We aren’t even sure if they work. And even then, how do we repair the bodies? Maybe you have a metabolism which allows you to regrow limbs, organs and eyes, but not us.”

“Each thing in time. First of all, there exists a case of partial remission for one individual in your species.”

The nurse raised her head. “Dewei?”

“If that’s the person you were protecting when we first met, then yes.”

A screen appeared between them. The video showed the Asian in the middle of the horde in Cocoa Beach. She felt like that had happened a long time ago.

“You think he received the antidote?”

“We need to study him to find proof. A tissue sample.”

The words lacked even a shadow of hesitation.

“Out of the question. You won’t take anything from him, not even a hair. If he’s our only chance, he has to stay safe. That’s why you saved me again? So that I can bring him to you? I refuse.”

“I understand your reaction, but that’s not what I want.”

“What the fuck am I doing here then?”

“I need you.”

The alien moved back and sat down in a chair in which two humans could have fit. The two slits in the middle of its face opened and closed. Maybe that was how it breathed. It was wearing some sort of plastic connectors, she noted.

“Your collaboration would be of great help to me,” it insisted.

The silence lasted a few minutes. On the screen, she saw herself coming out of the store with Masters and Alison. What had become of them? She didn’t dare think the worst, as that would destroy her morale.

“I won’t betray my people.”

“I’m not asking you to.”

The areal scene was replaced by a three-dimensional diagram which became animated right away.

“Jon? Are you there? It’s Annie. I’m still alive. Jon! Answer me, I’m begging you!” she heard.

“Annie, don’t use this radio, no matter what. That’s important. I miss you. I love you, little sister.”

And then:

“Jon! Jon! Where are you?”

“For the love of God, don’t use the radio!”

Taken by surprise, Elaine didn’t know how to respond. The screen vanished.

“We located the source of the transmission, the camp from which I removed you. What interests me now is the location of the recipient of the message.”

At least Annie hadn’t lied: she did, in fact, have a brother. She wondered what had become of her and if she had escaped from the chaos. She recalled how she had confided in her.

“The clues likely to lead to a manufacturing or storage site for products which make up the antidote are certainly rare,” the alien continued. “I need to study every chance without causing suspicion among the mercenaries or frightening the personnel, which sabotage the installations every time we get close to them. Do you understand?”

“You want to use me like a Trojan horse? I’m Elaine, that works well, eh?”

Her joke, made in a nervous tone, hid her distress. Clearly, you needed to be human to appreciate those types of things.

“I don’t understand.”

“Nothing, forget what I just told you.”

“Are you going to help me?”

One day she had read that the Gulf of Mexico contained almost four thousand oil rigs, the majority exploited by multinational corporations. Jon could be on any of them. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack, but she didn’t comment.

“Any bit of information could be useful,” the creature specified, “even the most insignificant.”

Regardless of from how far away it came, this strange – and improbable – ally was making a plan, maybe behind the back of its... companions? However, it wouldn’t make it alone. It needed help, that of her and the group. Of the whole world. Or what was left of it.

“I need to understand what you want and I demand guarantees for my friends and the survivors.”

It pointed a finger at her.

“I can keep the mercenaries away from you, but you need to hurry. I need to leave you somewhere and take my place once again. The more time we take, the more suspicious they will be.”

Elaine sighed.

“The man called Jon worked on an oil rig in the Gulf of Mexico. Annie is his sister. I met her in the camp where I was detained.”

“Sister?”

“They have the same father and mother.”

The alien leaned its head to the side. Elaine thought that it would be good to clarify. After all,  maybe it didn’t have parents and the concept might be hard to understand for these creatures.

“Common genitors.”

“I understood.”

The projection reappeared. She didn’t understand anything of the succession of lists and tables, but she recognized names and words in English. Her gaze suddenly froze.

“Jon and Annie Heiss, son and daughter of Malcom Heiss, founder of Heiss Offshore Inc. owners of the Pony Oil Field.”

“How the hell… Where did you get that information? You destroyed all of our computers and databases. The internet doesn’t exist anymore.”

“We have a copy. The totality of your civilization is stored in tera-servers the size of a trunk. We really aren’t all that much when it comes down to it, isn’t that so?”

Its shoulders lowered. Elaine remained silent.

“What’s your decision?” Jave rushed her.

“And if there’s nothing down there?”

The alien left his chair and approached her. He dug in his pocket to take out an oval object.

“All you have to do is tell me and I’ll come find you. Put this in your hand and speak. It’s the equivalent of one of your mobile communication devices, but smaller.”

And more strange, she thought, opening her palm.

The sphere floated towards her and rested on her skin with the grace of a feather. The soft and almost hypnotic light caught her attention.

“I need to know if my friends are alive. I want you to protect them. I demand a guarantee that you won’t use the antidote against us, you and your kin, and, I want a fast boat.”

“So, we have an agreement?”

Her hand closed on the halo.

“Your word will suffice. I hope that it means something to you, because it does to me.”

She held out her hand to him.

 

Jave took the pilot’s seat of the T-J once again.

On the projection, he watched the human undo the knots which tied a slender boat to the pier. The emissary looked at his hand and moved his four fingers.

A funny custom, he told himself. The species of the Collective signed contracts, and humans contented themselves with a simple contact. He had felt the heat through his skin, transmitted by microrootlets. These beings maintained a body temperature of thirty-seven degrees, the preliminary reports on the description of the species had mentioned. It resembled a diffuse softness. Strange, but not unpleasant.

The humming at the back of the boat told him that Elaine had managed to start the engines. The T-J circled around the marina. Jave saw the woman open the palm of her hand. His own lit up in a response to the request which she had just made of him as a test.

“I hear you clearly,” the Lynian responded. “Send me a signal when you’re on board the platform and have found the radio.”

“Understood. Don’t forget our agreement: protect my friends.”

The glow disappeared.

Jave accelerated, leaving the tiny marina behind him. The T-J flew alongside the coast for an octain of kilometers, at such a low altitude that the displacement of the air left a hollow area on the surface of the sea. He re-established the tactical connection feed once he was far enough away from the human.

Giving her a relay device was a flagrant violation of the holy rule: never give sensitive technology to an inferior race which hasn’t yet joined the Collective.

The risk seemed not only acceptable, but necessary to him. He wrote a new message on the crease of his hand. The ideograms he input were mixed together and then vanished. The information that he had just obtained the cooperation of local representatives was without a doubt a large exaggeration; however, the rhythm of operations wouldn’t be long in picking up speed. He could feel it. His talent was whispering to him. He always saw the survivor in the middle of the horde, the one called Dewei.

Where was he?

 

Kjet’s enraged whistles shook him out of his thoughts.

The mercenary, responsible for the expedition and therefore the emissary, demanded explanations for his escapade, which was beyond his role. Jave gave the excuse of his ability to “shed his skin,” as the reptilian expression went.

“I went to verify a hypothesis within the context of my investigations for the Combinate. Your demands are interfering with my work.”

There was a moment of silence, and then with a shrill, angry noise, Naakrit’s lieutenant summed up the situation for him. They were in control of what remained of the base, which was smoking ruins. The infected, more than six hundred, had all been eliminated. The low number of losses of healthy products was a miracle: they had lost less than a dozen. The mercenaries had done everything possible to protect them, notably from the shots from their own side. They had gathered them under a containment field deployed outside the perimeter.

The Lynian landed close by. His ship stirred up a cloud of dust on the edge of the tangled forest. He adjusted his nasal caps. The region, a green lung, was emitting non-negligible quantities of oxygen. Kjet prepared to start the loading of survivors, following the protocol which excluded all contact between the products and their jailers.

“We captured one hundred thirty-four of them,” he informed him. “HQ is sending us an additional transporter.”

On the other side of the invisible wall, the humans in rags, the majority of whom were also scarred by the fight, formed a tight group. Jave approached the dirty faces.

“How many managed to escape?”

The reptilian’s claws closed on the handle of his vibroblade attached to his waist. Technically, healthy products has just escaped while he was leading the attack, a mistake which would stain his reputation.

“A few.”

Jave didn’t make the effort to comment. Just asking the question was enough to remind the mercenary that he hadn’t executed his mission perfectly. He had made several blunders, the first of which had been to expose himself to enemy fire. The Lynian walked towards a table on top of which he recognized a radio. The tubes had been broken. One more detail to add to the list of mistakes, even though this would have been difficult to avoid. The humans systematically destroyed their materials when they could in the event of an attack.

“They sabotaged it. I doubt it still works.”

“The computer?”

“On board my T-J, under tight guard. It will be examined by our expert.”

He turned towards the fragile beings clutching each other.

“I need to go inside.”

“I suggest that you don’t,” the mercenary reacted immediately. “If you do so, I will be forced to notify the Primark for sanitary reasons.”

“I know.”

One of the troopers made an opening with the help of a field cutter, which closed up as soon as he was on the other side. The Lynian advanced towards the crowd. He heard screams of terror and pondered the stupefied faces, some of which held aggressive expressions, most of all the males. They moved forward, forming a wall between him and the more vulnerable members of the species, such as the females and their young. Jave stopped several meters away. The men seemed ready to fight with their bare hands. Many of them had fought bravely. Of course, they had no chance of competing when faced with the Collective’s technology. Often, willpower wasn’t enough.

BOOK: Toxic
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