Frozen Flora (The Gene Thief Series Book 2 - Short Story) (2 page)

Vials ready, camera loaded. Here we go again.

She had her bags packed, and she was ready to meet her favorite pilot. The favorite pilot that she'd never spoken to.

After his typical smirk, she got on the plane, and they took off. Before she knew it, she was flying above a vast land completely void of any color. The only things to be seen on the pure white canvas were the mountains poking through the snow.

Unsure whether this was going to be any better or worse than the rainforests, Kira was mentally prepared for anything. This plane represented the calm before the storm.

They landed on a cleared strip in the middle of nowhere. There were no lights, just a runway. Where the hell was this? Who had cleared the area before they got here? It rarely dawned on her how many people were involved for these operations to be so successful, but it was times like this that helped to expose the truth. It was most likely many more than she had thought about before.

As they landed, she saw a car waiting for her. This was a first. It was a car, but instead of wheels, it had blades to cut through the snow. She hopped in, no questions asked. She knew better. They sped off into the white wall of snow in front of them. Viewing distance could not have been more than five feet, but she had been in so many crazy situations that she didn't flinch. Besides, what was there to crash into?

After what felt like a couple of hours, they began to slow down. The driver, hidden behind glasses and a hat, said, "You will travel one mile west at which point, you'll start to see the village lights. Lanterns, candles, whatever. Follow that and your target will be inside. Take extra caution, the Uwahu Tribe has not survived this long in such a cruel environment by being push-overs. They are a smart and keen group of warriors. Over the last two hundred years they’ve successfully defended themselves against the harshest weather, nature, and other tribes. Hand to hand combat seems to be their specialty. Good luck."

Kira could almost hear the snicker on his face, taunting her, tempting her to respond.

A warning, another first. The only person she had ever dealt with was the pilot, and he was proving to be increasingly worthless over time. To date, she hadn’t gotten a single word out of him. Not a clue as to where she came from, what her real name was, or who she worked for. Nothing.

She took her first step in the snow, and it stopped just below her kneecap. This was going to be miserable, just like the soaking wet experience chasing the shaman.

Why the hell couldn't they give me some snow skis? Son of a bitch.

There was this sneaking suspicion that they didn’t always want her to succeed with as easily and smoothly as possible. It felt as if they were watching her, finding enjoyment in her struggle, and humor in her pain.

With lactic acid building up in her quads with every step, she was beginning to wonder if she would even make it. The burn in her muscles was relentless.  She massaged her arms, her legs, and nothing helped. Was the mission over before it had started?

She began to traverse a massive hill. Once she reached the top, she was able to look down into the valley, and she saw the twinkling. The lights were fuzzy behind the downpour of snow, but they were there. The mile that felt like a marathon was not enough to break her.

She made her way carefully down until she was about half a mile away, and started to dig a hole underneath the snow. She could find some warmth and regroup in there and get her vials and camera ready for action.

Off into the distance, to the left of the town, she heard screaming. She shot out from her hole and looked across. Just over two hundred yards away were three men, adorned with pelts, necklaces of teeth from trophy kills, and massive battle axes in each hand. They wielded these weapons as if they were extensions of their arms, similar to how she was with her vials and camera. Before them was a giant bear, going in for the kill. Swinging their weapons with incredible precision, the men ripped chunks out of the bear. It stood no chance, their axes coming down on it with unrivalled speed. After the beast had fallen, two of the hunters dragged it back to the village. The other put his axes on his back, crossing each other just behind his head. His confidence made it clear that he was the chieftain, or someone high up among the people.

That was unlike anything she had seen before. She felt as though she had been teleported to a world in the distant past. A tribe in the modern day still hunting to live, with weapons forged by their own hands. She appreciated this lifestyle, similar to what she had seen in the rainforest. She found herself relating with these people more than those she saw in the park with their cellphones and busy lives, chasing their superficial goals, not even celebrating when the goals were met, only setting more and more for further down the road.

The simplicity of these lives in front of her was much more in tune with what mattered in life. The fact that they worshiped the plant she was after, made her respect them even more.

It became increasingly important for her to think about exactly how much of the plant she would crush up for her DNA extraction. Would these people kill her without hesitation? No doubt about that, but she felt deep down that she could take care and be respectful. The less plant she used, the better.

After going back and forth about the plant, she reminded herself of what she just witnessed. The way they wielded the axes, fearlessly and with deadly precision. She knew the bear could just as easily be her if she got too careless. Any weakness or compassion festering inside her needed to be squelched. If anyone knew how deadly these tribesmen could be, it was her.

After the tribesmen had dragged the bear back into their village, she felt comfortable getting a little closer to the epicenter. She needed to find out where the plant grew, how they guarded it, and what it was going to take to steal a sample.

As she cautiously approached, she saw the torches hanging outside the doorways of the igloos. They were suspended on top of poles anchored to the ice. Aside from the fact the warriors were deadly and would kill her without hesitation, it was a beautiful town. The stars were shining brightly through the clear sky and a full moon cast a soft glow on the land. It was a nice change of pace from the smog infested skies she was used to in the civilized world. Aside from the frigid cold weather and numb body parts, she could get used to this.

She sat there poised, watching the people prepare the bear for the upcoming meal, skinning it, pulling out the entrails, and shaving off the useful pieces of meat for dinner. There was a fire in the center, with sticks holding up a cross bar ready for the bear to be mounted. Her stomach started to rumble; meat sure did sound good right about now.

Haven't tried polar bear yet, but I wouldn't mind it.

Next to the pit, just fifteen feet away, she saw the plant. It was poking up through the snow, and something just didn't look right. She was amused to see plants grow through the snow, and probably through the ice underneath. She realized that there was definitely something special about this plant. Around it was a three foot fence of bones. Sticking up from the ground, the tops of the bones had been shaved to dagger-like points. She could probably clear the fence with her eyes closed, but she sure wouldn't want to trip or have someone push her onto it. Being impaled sounded worse than falling to her death from the rainforest trees.

As she stared at the patch of plant that she needed to get to, she noticed three patrolling guards making the rounds. Each guarded a different side and, suddenly, her task was beginning to seem impossible. Kira began to wonder who determined the danger level on this one. Massive guards swarming the plants, buried bones all around, it was obvious these people would make quick work of her. She had no shortage of confidence in her skills, but this was really pushing the envelope. What made her sick was the thought that this was probably for a company creating a new drug that would hit the market. It would be touted as the next greatest thing, handed out like candy to anyone in pain, and added to the laundry list of pills the country is already consuming. This mission sucks, she thought. The notion that she was contributing to the spread of the pharmaceutical epidemic made her sick. Furthering the agenda of these conglomerates, enabling more and more people to detach from reality and become numb to the essence of life.

The polar bear was left on a flat rock, and there was a group of women and their daughters beginning to approach the slabs of meat. They were carrying what looked like ceramic jars and plants. The meat was layed out on a table, and the women began to reach into the jars, and pull out brightly colored spices. Herbs were crushed and plants were layed on top and underneath the carcass. Her stomach grumbled again, this time a little angrier.

By the time they were done, Kira was salivating at the sight before her. The food had been prepared by the elderly and the adolescent to perfection. The fire was now blazing, and the wood on top was warm and ready to add even more flavor.

She was cold, the mission seemed impossible, and that food was looking more delicious than ever. She felt as if she was being purposely tortured from all angles. She started to dig another hole to hang out in while she tried to figure things out. She wasn’t sure what she was thinking, but the clothes she had brought wouldn’t keep her alive for much longer, and calling that pilot in for a rescue mission was not an option. Aside from swallowing her pride, she had been warned about ever failing a mission. The consequences were not made clear, but the message and the projector made it seem like the outcome would be very grim and regrettable.

Maybe some sort of diversion could work, she thought. Hopefully those guards would react instinctively, and not think twice before leaving the plant alone. With a shortage of good ideas, this was one she had to run with. The only problem was she had to figure out what she could even do to draw their attention. She didn't have anything to light on fire or make a loud noise, just her vials and camera.

The cold was setting into her bones, and she felt desperation take root in her gut.

She walked towards the camp, her sweatshirt in hand. The plan was to set it on fire, run away, and as the guards went to investigate, sprint towards the plant. The women and children should be no issue, even their little warrior children, but any straggling guards would be. She needed something big to draw their attention.

Suddenly, the ground began to rumble beneath her feet. Her eyes squinted and tried to focus and confirm that this was a real sensation that she was feeling. Vibrations continued to roar through her feet and up into her legs.

With time for distractions, she pulled her lighter out of her pocket to turn her sweatshirt into a flaming ball of distraction.

The rumbling was undeniable. Like rolling thunder, getting louder and louder, she put her sweatshirt back on and waited to see what it was. She focused on the peak of the hill, and saw a line of torches moving quickly towards the tribe. Another local clan must have planned an invasion, she thought. They were sprinting, their hooded pelts bouncing up and down as they made their way towards the people down in the valley - the unsuspecting people.

Inside, she was crying out, warning them of the ensuing massacre, but she couldn't. Her voice wasn't there. She couldn't make a peep. At the risk of exposing herself and being caught by either clan, she couldn't afford to do make any noise. She extended her hand towards the people, wanting warn them from the oncoming invaders. The people in the village rejoiced and conversed as the meat roasted over the fire. As impressive as they were hunting the polar bear, they stood no chance against the sheer numbers of the invading clan. The Spartans versus the Persians reenacted, here in the Antarctic.

No longer did her numb limbs matter nor the stupid plant she was after. The rumbling had apparently reached them, and she saw the man who had killed the bear run and fetch his axe. A few of them hugged their wives and kissed their children, and they set up in a battle formation at the outskirts of their village.

The invaders didn't even hesitate, sprinting towards the village.

Just beyond the patch of the plants, she saw a little girl. Holding a homemade doll, made from some sort of sinew or grass from below the ice. Kira was now close enough to see the tears streaming down the girl's face, partially freezing against her cheeks. The terror in her eyes was unmistakable. Kira wanted to sprint towards the girl, hold her, and harbor her off to safety.

The village around her began to turn black. All that existed was that little girl and her doll. A moment later, she too faded and a familiar voice rang out to her. It sounded like the woman from her flashback memories.

"What's that toy you have, sweetie?" It was her.

Of all times, not now. No, not now, Goddamnit. I have to be able to do something, to help those people. I don't have time for these memories.

It was no use. Before she could stop it, the world faded into oblivion. All she could see was a mother and daughter playing with a little doll. The hair made of golden fibers, a polka dot outfit and big blue eyes. The little girl was hugging it, swinging it around in circles. She was dancing with it, telling jokes, and laughing with it. The mother was sitting on the front porch with a smile of pure bliss, watching peacefully and quietly as the girl twirled around endlessly in the front yard.

The little girl stopped, walked up to her mother on the porch, and asked, "Do you think Sissy would like this, though?"

The look on the mother's face went cold. The question had blindsided her, punched her square in the stomach. She looked at her daughter, trying to process what she had said, but failing.

The little girl asked again, "Would you mind if I gave this to her instead? I think she needs it more than me."

Tears began to roll down the mother’s cheeks. "Yes, I think she would like that."

They held hands, the little girl hugged her doll tightly with her free hand, and they walked in the house upstairs into the bedroom. The sister was sleeping, so she placed the doll next to the bed underneath all of the wires and IVs.

Kira heard screaming, the most primal screaming she had ever heard. The little girl and her mother faded, and she realized that the invaders had closed the distance. The clan in the valley was defending with everything they had, but the overwhelming numbers of the invaders were proving to be more powerful.

The little girl with the doll was running towards an igloo with her mother, toward safety.

The patches of plants were now unguarded. Realizing Kira could do nothing to alter the outcome for the tribesmen, she decided the time was perfect to complete the mission.

Complete the mission. She felt so brainwashed for even thinking such a thought. So robotic.