Transient Echoes (11 page)

You are not like us
, the eyes seemed to whisper.
Everything about you is wrong.

******

Ortego Reconstruction Outpost

April 22, 2350

Mei was going to miss her hair. The radiation poisoning would claim it all, Tabata said. But she wouldn’t let some stupid sickness take it. She’d see to it herself.

John stood over her with a buzzer, his image reflected in the mirror before them. “Are you sure about this?” he asked.

“Don’t ask dumb questions,” she said.

He pressed the tip of the clippers to her scalp. They were cold and sent a chill down her neck. He gulped. “Here we go.”

The buzzer ran along her skin, and a shower of hair fell to the floor. Mei watched as the reflection in the mirror transformed, and she saw a girl she didn’t know.

“All done,” said John after a few minutes.

Mei’s eyes widened as she stared at herself.
Is that me?
“I look like a doorknob.”

“It’s not so bad,” said John.

“You wouldn’t say that if it was you.” She got up and went to the other end of the tent. She hated everything about the last few days. This illness, the work problems, and Travis. What else did the universe have in store for her before the week was out?

A soft hum came from behind. John must have turned the clippers on again, probably to clean them. The noise made her uneasy. She turned to look at him. Ask him to stop. But there, grinning like a child, stood John, holding the clippers clumsily in his hands, pressing them against his head.

“What are you doing?” she asked quickly.

“Hang on,” he told her. He swiped his scalp and clumps of charcoal hair glided down. “I’m almost done.”

She watched in awe as he ran the clippers side to side, front to back, until there was nothing left. He set the device aside and swept his hand across his skull, a look of satisfaction on his face.

She ran to him, touching his head. “You’re crazy! Why would you do that?”

“You know why,” he said. “We’re in this together, the same as we’ve always been.”

“You’re an idiot.” She punched him in the arm, then hugged him.

“Maybe so,” he said, kissing her forehead. “But now we’re both doorknobs.”

******

Unknown

April 22, 2350

Terry watched as his captors built a fire, preparing to camp for the night. They re-tied the rope binding his wrists and attached the other end to a nearby tree. He couldn’t help but think they were right for taking such precautions. Too bad for them it wouldn’t do any good.

Throughout the day, Terry toyed with the idea of escaping, but chose to stay patient instead. The chance to run would come when most of them slept.

He watched them each lie on the ground, their backs on the dirt with only their clothes to cover them. Over the next hour, they each fell asleep, one after the other. Only one remained awake to guard him. Scar, who seemed less interested in making conversation or doing much of anything. Instead, he chose to sit in the darkness, staring into the wild valley before them, saying nothing.

Terry pretended to sleep, waiting for the right opportunity. A short time later, he opened his eyes, afraid he would pass out if he wasn’t careful, only to see the man still there, motionless. Terry’s eyes drifted to the sky. Based on the moon’s position, he gathered it must be close to midnight. Maybe now was a good time to—

They found you before,
said the voice in his head.
They’ll find you again.

No, not this time. He’d find a way to stop them if they came after him a second time. He could fight them if he had to…maybe set a trap. He’d head in the opposite direction they were going now. If he kept a good pace, they would have to give up eventually.

Wouldn’t they?

Terry fidgeted with the rope, nudging it loose. The knot was firm, but he eventually managed. Several minutes later he had one hand free, followed by the next.

He stared at Scar, who seemed to be ignoring him. The man only sat there staring, his eyes distant and empty. What could he be doing? Earlier in the day, this man and his friends had been so loud and energetic, ready to kick Terry’s face in. Here in the dark, however, he’d changed. He was like a stone, still and quiet, as though his soul had gone away, leaving only the body behind like some kind of hollow shell.

Terry shook his head. None of it mattered. He was about to leave, and he’d hopefully never see these people again. He’d have to pull on his power in order to make the run, but he could do it.

He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing, and in a moment, he felt the change take him. The world seemed to slow around him, and suddenly the darkness turned to light, brightening as it had deep in those underground tunnels. He heard the other men’s breathing, listening to them suck the air in and finally release it, louder than if they were next to him. He looked at Scar and waited but was surprised to hear nothing coming from him. No breathing. No heartbeat. Nothing to indicate he was alive.

What the hell were these guys?

There was no time to delay, though. He couldn’t keep the focus for longer than a few minutes. He’d have to hurry.

Terry leapt to his feet and took a deep breath. He placed his heel against the tree behind him. With a burst of strength, he pushed himself off the trunk and dashed as fast as his legs could carry him.

Scar looked at him, suddenly alive. He snapped to his feet, calling to the others.

With each step, Terry ran faster. He turned to see the guard readying his weapon, while the other three stirred.

A bang went off behind him. The bullet whizzed by. He dashed into the nearby woods.

Another bullet exploded from the gun, striking a nearby tree, splintering chunks of bark into the air.

Terry didn’t slow down. He ran as fast as he possibly could. He knew those men would follow immediately, and they wouldn’t stop until they had no other choice. He’d have to push himself, summon every ounce of strength he had.

It was time to put his abilities to the test.

******

The air felt cold against Mei’s scalp. It had only been a few hours since John had buzzed her hair. Did she make a mistake?
Doesn’t matter
, she thought as she made her way toward Bartholomew’s work tent.
I made the decision, and it’s done. Time to move on.

Today, Zoe was driving to Komodo to unload a cab full of research materials. Normally this only happened once a month, but thanks to recent developments, the process had to be accelerated. They didn’t have much time to get everything out, and Mei wanted to be prepared to leave at a moment’s notice.

There was also the matter of Travis’s body, which had to be shipped all the way to Central so there could be a proper funeral. Mei didn’t like the idea of stuffing him inside a box and sending him away, but they didn’t give her much of a choice. The labs insisted on doing an autopsy. Tabata assured her it was necessary, saying they needed as much information about the radiation as possible, but none of it made her feel any better.

As she reached Bart’s tent, she could hear metal hitting metal as the engineer performed his work. Unzipping and opening the flap, she saw Bart standing there holding what appeared to be a section of a Fever Killer. The hulking object was nearly as tall as Mei, but in Bart’s arms it looked much smaller. He wheezed, hefting it onto the table and letting it slam down. “Oops,” he said, gasping. “Sorry, Doctor Curie.”

“No, no, it’s my fault,” she answered. “I should have called ahead.”

He wiped the sweat from his forehead with his shoulder. “What can I do for you?”

“Zoe’s about to take off for Komodo. Did you want her to pick up anything?”

“Some potatoes would be nice,” he said, reaching for the toolbox at the other end of the table. He grabbed a Philips and spun it around in his hand like a fan blade. “Any reason she’s got you asking me? Seems like you should be in bed.”

Mei waved her hand at him. “I volunteered. Tabata says I need to exercise.”

“As long as you don’t overdo it.”

“So potatoes?”

He nodded. “A few dozen, if she doesn’t mind.”

“Why so many?”

“I’ve had a craving for some diced potato bits, maybe grilled and seasoned. If she gets enough, I’ll fix a plate for everyone.”

Mei smiled. “Sounds pretty good. I’m not too sure if Komodo has any, but I’ll ask her to look. We might get lucky.”

“We could do with some luck if you ask me,” he said, unscrewing a piece of the Fever Killer.

“I noticed you didn’t have any shipments to send home.”

“Still in the process,” he said, pointing to the other end of the tent with his screwdriver. Several crates were resting in the corner. “Filled half of them last night. I’ll have something ready next time.”

“Not this piece?” she asked, motioning to the machine on the table.

“I’m getting ready to test something.”

“Sure.”

“This’ll be the twenty-sixth try. Can’t say I’m expecting much, though. Backward engineering is one thing, but reassembling a hundred pieces and
then
doing it is slightly more complicated.”

“Keep me posted,” she said, getting ready to leave. She had no qualms with listening to Bart, but standing was proving difficult the longer she stayed. “I’ll see you at the meeting in a few hours.”

He didn’t answer.

She left the tent and went to the edge of the camp near the fence. Zoe was there, hanging on the door of the dirt cab, one arm dangling through the window frame. She was talking with John.

“So you think you can get it for me?” he asked.

“Pineapple? I’ll see what I can do,” she said.

“Remember, it spoils pretty fast once it’s exposed to Variant. After that, you only get a few hours to eat it, so don’t break the seal.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. I got it.”

Mei made her way to the dirt cab, trying her best not to look too exhausted. “Do you have everything you need, Zoe?”

“Packed and loaded, ma’am.”

Mei looked at the tail of the vehicle, at the box with Travis inside. “And the extra cargo?”

Zoe’s face sunk. “Safe,” she said after a short pause. “I’ve got him.”

“Are you sure you don’t need me to go with you?” asked John.

“I might not look like much, but I make these trips every month. I know how to take care of myself. Besides,” she said, motioning toward Mei. “Your girlfriend looks like she might pass out any second now.”

“I’m fine,” said Mei. But she wasn’t. The energy in her legs had nearly given out. Her head was growing foggy. All she wanted to do was sleep.

“Uh huh,” said Zoe, unconvinced.

“Before I forget, Bart wants potatoes,” said Mei.

“Potatoes, got it,” she said.

John walked over to Mei and wrapped one of his arms around her shoulders. “See you when you get back, Zoe.”

Zoe nodded before climbing into the cab. A second later, the engines roared to life, and she drove off, kicking a small cloud of dust into the air.

John and Mei watched her leave. When she was far enough away, Mei let herself sink into John’s arms, relinquishing support. “I need to lie down,” she finally said.

John didn’t say a word. He simply swept her up and carried her into the tent.

Lying in her bed at last, Mei held his wrist, exhausted. “Wake me in a few hours.”

“I will,” he answered, stroking her arm. He smiled warmly at her.

A fog formed in her mind, pulling her to rest. She thought of Travis, imagining him standing beside her. She wished she could talk to him. Hear his voice. If only she’d paid more attention. If only...

“Mei, what’s wrong?” asked John.

She looked at him. “Nothing…” she whispered.

John tilted his head. “Are you sure?”

It’s all my fault. I killed him, the same as…

“Mei?”

…the same as Terry, all those years ago. Couldn’t see the answers. I’m always too late to see…

“Are you okay?” He felt her forehead. “You feel warm…”

…to see the truth…but I’m a fool, a stupid little girl trying to pretend, trying to be something I’m not…

“Can you hear me, Mei?” asked John.

…and it’s my fault…it’s all my fault…everything…because of me…

“Someone help!” shouted John. “Doctor Tabata? Somebody get in here!”

…my fault…

Ch
ap
ter
8

Ortego Outpost File Logs

Play Audio File 347

Recorded: April 23, 2350

PRESCOTT
: I’m sorry, but what did you say your name was?

MITCHELL
: Sophie Mitchell, sir. I’m Doctor Curie’s apprentice.

PRESCOTT
: Why am I talking to you instead of your mentor?

MITCHELL
: It’s as I’ve said, sir. She is currently occupied.

PRESCOTT
: Occupied with what, exactly? She’d better have a good excuse for missing this call.

MITCHELL
: As you are aware, sir, the recent tragedy involving Travis Scott has left a gap in work performance. Doctor Curie is busy overseeing the transfer of responsibilities. She has authorized me to speak with you on her behalf.

PRESCOTT
: This is absurd. Doesn’t she know how important these assessment calls are? If I deliver a poor review to the board, she could lose funding.

MITCHELL
: I assure you, sir, I am fully capable of delivering the report to you. Being Doctor Curie’s apprentice requires me to understand each and every facet of the project, regardless of—

PRESCOTT
: Fine, Ms. Mitchell. Go ahead and give your report. Let’s get this over with.

MITCHELL
: Thank you, sir. As you know, the subsections of the former Ortego compound have been uncovered. Upon excavation, the team discovered several intact rooms filled with servers, terminals, and other resources. Dozens of disks have been collected and are awaiting analysis as we speak.

PRESCOTT
: And the radiation?