Anaz-Voohri (27 page)

Tia steeled herself for the effusive embrace she knew would follow and let the woman fawn over her and nearly constrict her breathing. She smelled of Chanel Number Five, just as Tia remembered.

Her mother let go of her, stepped back then straightened the embroidered bodice of her white cotton dress. “You should have called,
chica
, I’d have sent the cook to shop for a special lunch.”

The idea of a traditional Venezuelan home-cooked meal sounded heavenly, mainly since Tia had left before dawn without breakfast. “I’m sure the regular fare is fine. Besides, if I had called, you’d have escaped to one of your favorite
monasterios
just to avoid meeting me.”

“Nonsense."
The woman dismissed Tia’s remark with a wave of the hand. “But someone has to pray for your brother’s soul and it certainly won’t be you." She looked Tia over with obvious disapproval. “You barely look like a woman in these clothes, and you remind me too much of Felipe. You should have been the one to die, not him. ”

What a thing to say! The comment stung but Tia was used to it. Besides, she knew her mother spoke from a place of deep grief. Tia managed to control her temper. “Felipe was an angel from God, I know. I miss him, too." But she realized with a start that she missed Zack even more than her brother.

“You were always the strong one,
chica
. Never sick, never hurt, even the scratches on your skin healed within hours and never left a scar." The older woman sighed. “Not Felipe... He was fragile, he needed me.”

“And, of course, I didn’t." Tia had never needed anyone... The only person she ever needed was Zack, and she’d never see him again. Not in this life, anyway.

“You were always...” her mother searched for words, “different.”

“About that."
Tia wished she had more time to ease the topic into the conversation, but she had to report back to the base by nightfall. She wondered how to formulate the question she had come so far to ask. “Could you tell me what happened to you when you were expecting me?”

Her mother’s body tensed. “I don’t know what you are talking about,
chica
.”

Tia couldn’t believe such stubborn denial. “When I was a child you mentioned being abducted.”

The woman shook her head adamantly. “You must have misunderstood."

But Tia couldn’t afford to let it rest and pressed on. “I remember you crying. I remember Papa yelling, telling you to shut up. He sent you away for a long time. Where did you go?”

After a short silence, her mother sighed. “These were the darkest months of my life." She suddenly looked weak and dropped back on the chaise. “Order me some coffee, please.”

Tia went to the door and pulled the blue cordon. A bell rang in another room. Within seconds, the servant boy came running.

“Bring us coffee and some
cachapa
pancakes." It was still breakfast time and Tia could eat an anaconda.

The boy bowed and left.

Picking up a wooden chair, Tia brought it close to the leather chaise then straddled it, staring at her mother. “We live in dangerous times, Mama. For your sake and mine, I need to know exactly what happened. I won’t leave until you tell me.”

Her mother seemed confused, or scared. “If your father ever hears of this...”

“I won’t tell him one word, I swear. But I do want the truth.”

After staring at Tia, her mother shrugged. “He sent me to a psychiatric ward.”

Tia suspected that much. “Why?”

“I was having hallucinations, and he couldn’t possibly have me around his business partners, talking nonsense about alien abduction.”

“Alien abduction is not nonsense." Tia softened her voice as when talking to a child. “Are you sure these were hallucinations?"

“It was a long time ago,
chica
. They told me I was sick, and I believed them.”

“What did you see in these... visions?”

Her mother took a deep breath. “Monsters, evil spirits, horrible creatures…”

“I remember you drawing on Father’s desk pad.”

Smiling shyly, her mother held one finger across her lips for secrecy. “I kept the best ones." She rose and went to a drawer chest. Digging into her neckline, she pulled out a small key. “Promise me you won’t tell.”

Reminded of a gentler time when she and her mother had many little secrets, Tia smiled. “Not a word." She crossed her heart.

Her mother opened the drawer and pulled out a handful of pages yellowed with age. She spread them on the low table then pushed one in front of Tia. “This is my favorite.”

The drawing, very elaborate, had a striking resemblance to those Zack had sketched on the white board in his class at Camp Hell. The warrior, in full armor under a fluid cape, looked unmistakably Anaz-voohri. “What else do you remember of your... hallucinations?" Tia didn’t want to say abduction, as her mother obviously had problems dealing with the truth of it all.

Shivering, her mother gathered the drawings. She turned them over when the servant brought a tray to the table and poured coffee in blue
mazagran
mugs from an elegant silver pot. The rich aroma filled the room, reminding Tia of childhood breakfasts in the kitchen with the servants. She grabbed a pancake from the tray, rolled it up and bit into it without using plate or flatware, eliciting an arched brow from her mother. The honey buttermilk taste exceeded her expectations.

After the boy left, her mother absorbed herself in the contemplation of her coffee mug, the question seemingly forgotten.

Tia had to draw on her reserve of patience. “Will you tell me what you remember? Mama, please…”

“Are you sure you want to know,
chica
?" The compassionate tone surprised Tia.

“Yes, Mama.
Only the truth can save my life.”

“Your life?"
The older woman hesitated. “If I am to believe that my hallucinations were the truth... then it means that you are a child of evil." She crossed herself quickly.

There it was. The answer Tia feared all along. She swallowed a sip of the smooth brew to ease the knot in her throat. “Tell me more.”

“Well, they certainly didn’t care about the torture they put me through." Her mother’s eyes glazed over. “They did something to the baby girl in my womb, with needles, tubes, and strange strobe lights. They took great care when they did it, while I lay there in agony for hours.”

Horrified as much by what her mother went through as by the confirmation of alien interference in her genetic makeup, Tia started to understand why her mother always resented her. “Did they speak?”

“Only among themselves, in a language I didn’t understand, but it resembled the dialects of our local tribes.”

Of course, the Anasazi connection.
“Can you describe where you were held?" Tia couldn’t keep her voice steady as fear inched its way into her mind.

“Vaguely."
The dark eyes gleamed with unshed tears. “I remember purple colors, bright lights, and funny little stick figures on the ceiling, one of them playing a flute.”

“Kokopelli?”

Her mother nodded. “The table felt like living skin. I hated that table. I was scared it would wake up and devour me.”

Shuddering with disgust, Tia still needed to know more. “Did they restrain you?”

“No need. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. I was totally helpless to protect you." Was it guilt on her mother’s face? “Forgive me,
chica
.”

Tia rose to join her mother on the chaise and took her hand. “You did nothing wrong, mama. They are the guilty ones. What do you think they did to me?" But Tia already knew.

“Something bad, something horrible."
Her mother crossed herself again. “They were determined, cruel. They threatened me in my mind. I was convinced they’d kill me if I told anyone.”

“Yet, you told Papa.”

“Only after several years, when I realized they were long gone.
I needed to tell someone." Her mother pulled a lace handkerchief out of her sleeve and dabbed at a tear. “I thought your father loved me enough to understand. I was mistaken." She broke into wracking sobs.

Taking her mother in a warm embrace, Tia whispered, “I believe you, Mama." She smoothed her mother’s glossy hair. “Did they change you in any way? Did you feel different afterwards?”

“I don’t think they did anything to me, it was you they meddled with." The woman leaned her head on Tia’s shoulder. “I envy your strength,
chica
.”

Tears welled in Tia’s eyes. For a while, they cried in each other’s arms. But Tia realized she didn’t cry about being a hybrid. She cried because the only man she ever loved had died alone in a hospital bed, and her mistake had caused his death.

“I’m not as strong as I seem, Mama." Tia cleared her throat and patted her mother’s back. “Don’t tell anyone about any of this. You are probably safe, but if the government learns about your abduction, I’m as good as dead.”

“Don’t
worry,
chica
." Her mother blew her nose. “I’ll keep your secret.”

As she consoled her mother, Tia harbored no more doubt about her hybrid nature. Her exceptional stamina and mental abilities had to be the result of DNA tampering by the Anaz-voohri. She was one of the hated mutants she’d been hunting for the past months. How ironic.

Had Tia really become the enemy? She’d heard of the hybrid hunter, Colonel Jason Carrick, nicknamed
The Nazi
. The new urban legend said he killed hybrids for sport and ate them for breakfast.

Due back on US soil, the new battleground, where she must lead her troops against other hybrids, could Tia still do her job? How long could she believe in her mission to save humanity without questioning herself? Worse, how long before she was discovered and hunted mercilessly?

*****

Zack’s heart pounded fast as he opened the sealed envelope left on his desk, the one with the large confidential red stamp. It contained a folder with Tia’s name on it. Carrick had kept his promise. As Zack opened the folder, a highlighted line jumped to his attention.
Married to a rich coffee grower in Venezuela and elected not to change her family name.
A photograph showed Tia in a wedding gown, kissing a well dressed man in his late forties.

The pang of jealousy stabbed Zack with a sharp pain in his chest. Tia married to another man? How could this be? She’d always seemed so independent, what had changed her mind? This reeked of an arranged marriage, probably a business deal to consolidate her family estates. Apparently, giving up on love, Tia had married for money. The envelope also contained a note with Carrick’s handwriting.

I took the liberty of contacting the lady on your behalf. She made it clear she wanted no further contact with you. Sorry, pal. Forget the fucking bitch and let’s have a drink tonight to celebrate your freedom. PS: shred the file along with this note when you are finished.

After a last look at the picture, Zack fed the file to the shredder. How could he blame Tia? It had been so long, she had to move on sooner or later. Still, the rejection hurt. She didn’t even want to talk. Zack should have tried to contact her earlier. Then again, how could he have faced her in his diminished state? The world was a cruel place, and Zack swore he’d never let anyone steal his heart again.

Chapter Twenty

New York
- Two months later

The feeling of freedom overwhelmed Zack, as he walked confidently out of the Manhattan Gym with Dylan. They now worked out every morning since Zack had recovered all his physical abilities... and more. Not only had his psychic talent returned a hundredfold, but it seemed that Zack’s strength had doubled and his agility and speed had increased as well. His incredible healing even included the gradual fading of the scars from the skin grafts on his back, something Zack hadn’t expected.

 
The smell of hot dogs and fries from the street vendors, the chilly spring breeze, even the contact of the khaki pants on his skin with each step made him feel glad to be alive. In his exhilaration, he could almost forget the suffering and the re-education he’d gone through to get there. To think that he’d wanted to end his life... It all seemed like a faraway nightmare. Only one thing in his life was missing, Tia. But Zack would never break a marriage. Tia had made her choice, and he would respect it and stay away.

Dylan slapped Zack’s shoulder as they approached an imposing glass structure. He pointed to the brushed steel logo of the Haepheon Technologies tower. “That’s the place." His casual jeans and long hair didn’t quite match the formal building.

Zack whistled. “Are you sure this guy is a biologist?" Such fancy feat of architecture indicated a greater fortune than Archer’s track record suggested.

“It helps to be the son of a rich captain of industry, I guess. And the Defense Department pays well, but Archer’s really not like that. You’ll see. You’ll like him." Dylan opened the heavy glass door for Zack.