Invasive Procedures (36 page)

Hal reached inside, grabbed several vials and syringes, and held them over the ledge. “You think I’m bluffing?”

“I think you’re a smart person. You’re not going to do something that will hurt yourself.”

“You’re wrong.” Hal threw what was in his hand over the side.

“No!”

“I said, stay back.”

Frank looked over the ledge and saw the vials and syringes fall into the river below and get swept away with the current.

“I’ll dump the rest, Frank. Don’t push me. I’ll do it.”

“All right. Calm down.”

“Put the gun down.”

“All right.” Frank set the gun on the ground.

“Now kick it to me.”

“So you can shoot me? I don’t think so.”

“Kick it over the side.”

“Think what you’re asking me to do, Hal. Right now there is a group of people up that road behind us, and our only defense against them is this gun, and that isn’t much. If I kick it over—”

“Shut up. Just shut up, all right? You always got to play the smart guy, don’t you? Always got to be the one with all the answers. Got to get the last word in? How anyone can stand you is beyond me. Here, you want the bag? Take it.” He threw the bag high in the air toward Frank.

Frank’s eyes followed it, and he reached out to catch it just as Hal
rammed into him and tackled him to the ground. The bag fell away and rolled toward the edge as Frank struggled to get Hal off of him. The gun was still on the ground, several feet away.

Hal’s face was red and furious. He grabbed Frank by the throat and squeezed. Frank pulled at Hal’s hands, but they held him tight. Hal squeezed even harder, his teeth clenched.

And then Hal went rigid, put his hands to the side of his head, and screamed, as if suddenly blasted by a thousand deafening decibels. Frank scrambled out from under him as Hal fell to the ground and writhed in apparent agony. His scream continued, a deep, throat-cutting cry that echoed over the cliff face and down into the canyon.

Frank backed away in horror as Hal flopped around in the dirt, convulsing.

And then it stopped. All at once. The scream died away and Hal lay still on his back, eyes closed.

Frank waited a moment for Hal to move, and when he didn’t, looked for the gun. He saw where it lay and got up to retrieve it just as Hal started laughing. Frank stopped and turned to him. Hal’s laughing grew louder, a deep raucous laugh that shook his chest. He looked down at his hands and laughed, felt his face and laughed, stood up and jumped up and down and laughed.

And then he saw Frank, and a look of surprise came over him. “Frank. Look at you. You’re a mess. You’ve got dirt all over you.”

Frank didn’t blink.

“You are still Frank, aren’t you? You didn’t beat me to it, did you?” He winked.

Frank stared at him. “Galen?”

Hal threw his arms wide. “Tada! New and improved, version two-point-oh. Goodness, I had forgotten what it felt like to be this young. Did you see how quickly I can move?” He jumped from side to side like a schoolkid trying out a new trampoline. Then he stopped. “What are we doing out here, anyway?” He looked around him, and then over the ledge. “Where’s Lichen?”

“Here,” a voice said. And then Lichen and three other Healers emerged from the trees at a run. Frank reached for the gun and grabbed it, but Lichen was on him in an instant and easily took it from him. The Healers pointed their tranq guns, and Frank held still.

Hal smiled. “Lichen, my boy, your sense of timing never ceases to amaze me.” He looked them over. “Goodness. You’re a mess, all of you. Lichen, you’re worse than Frank here. Of course, I suppose I’m no better.” He brushed the dirt off his jacket. “Kill him and let’s get a move on.”

Lichen look confused. “Sir?”

Hal became agitated. “I am your prophet, Lichen. I have given you an order. You will obey.”

Lichen motioned to one of the Healers. “Check him.”

Hal held out his arm and waited while the Healer produced a small scanner and placed it on Hal’s arm. There was a popping noise. Hal winced as a needle pricked him, and then the scanner beeped. The Healer read the display.

“Genetic match,” he said.

“Of course it’s a match. Do you think I allowed myself to die only to stay that way?”

The Healer pocketed the scanner and wiped the drop of blood that remained on Hal’s arm.

“You will excuse us for making certain, sir,” said Lichen, bowing his head.

“You were following procedure. You need not apologize for doing precisely what I asked. Now, get rid of this one.” He waved absently to Frank.

Lichen looked to Frank and then back to Galen. “I don’t understand. Our orders have never been to kill the vessels, sir.”

“That’s because I have never given the order. Now you will do as I direct.”

Lichen still hesitated. “But, sir, the Council.”

“Ah, yes, the Council,” said Hal. “I had forgotten. My memories are coming back sporadically. You will be patient, gentlemen, as I organize them. Where are the others?”

“In a barn,” Lichen said, “a few miles back.”

Frank’s heart sank. They had found Monica and the others.

Hal made a face. “A barn?”

“We tracked them there,” said Lichen. “Stone is with them now, awaiting our return. I would have stayed with them also, but you and Frank, or rather Hal and Frank, ran ahead. I had
to
leave
to
catch you.”

“Then we will go to this barn,” said Hal. “Wait, I remember it now. A
dreadful place. I sneaked out of it, didn’t I? And you were trying to stop me, Frank. It’s coming back to me. You wanted this.” He went to Monica’s medical bag and picked it up. “All that trouble for a silly little bag.” He tossed it over the side.

Frank watched it fall and then disappear into the water below.

Hal took Frank’s gun away from Lichen. “This one is not worthy of any council, gentlemen. He has done nothing but disrupt our work and mission. We can no longer allow ourselves to be influenced by his blatant disregard for the betterment of our species.” He pointed the gun at Frank. “Not very pleasant, is it Frank? To have a gun pointed at you? A taste of your own medicine, as the saying goes.” He stepped toward him. “I read your military records, you know? Incredibly boring, but if my memory serves me right, you have a nasty case of acrophobia.” He stuck the gun to Frank’s chest. “Amazing how thorough those records are, don’t you think?”

Frank stood still and said nothing.

“It’s a long way to the bottom, Frank. I imagine that makes you very nervous.” He pushed Frank backward toward the edge with the gun.

“It’s funny,” said Hal. “I was certain that I wouldn’t have any of the host’s memories. But lo and behold, Hal has left me with some. A few of them not so pleasant, I’m afraid. Hal wasn’t the holiest of angels, if you get my meaning. These hands have killed before, sadly.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Frank could see the ledge behind him, only inches away.

“But one of the most distinct memories I have is how you treated Hal, Frank. How you treated me. Always like an imbecile.”

Frank stopped. His heels were at the precipice. The churning water roared below him.

“You’re sweating, Frank. I can actually see tiny beads of sweat. You’re afraid, aren’t you? Well, let me make it easy for you. If you’re already dead, there’s nothing to fear.”

Frank twisted and dove backward just as Hal pulled the trigger.

The force of the bullet spun Frank around and threw him farther from the cliff face. He felt his body spinning, falling, tumbling through the air. Another shot rang out, and then he sunk deep into the frigid rushing water, consciousness slipping, the world turning black.

Director Irving welcomed Agent Carter into his office with a hearty pat on the back.

“Good to see you alive, Carter. You gave us all a scare. Come in, have a seat.”

“Thank you, sir.” He took a chair opposite Irving’s desk. He was showered and changed and looked rested.

Irving went to window, looked up and down the hallway, then closed the blinds. “Got something to eat, did you? Filled that empty stomach of yours?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Irving rammed his hands in pockets and shook his head sadly. “Terrible thing that happened to you. Just terrible. I’m glad you’re okay. I didn’t know you were in there.”

Carter cocked his head. “Of course you didn’t, sir.”

“Hm?”

“You said, you didn’t know I was in there. I assume you mean you didn’t know I was in the rest home, the Healer compound?”

Irving looked momentarily shaken, then smiled again. “Did I say that?” He took quick steps to the watercooler and poured himself a drink. “What I meant was, I didn’t know you were in—” He looked for the right
word. “Trouble. I didn’t know you were in trouble.” He downed the water in a single gulp.

“Of course I was in trouble, sir,” said Carter evenly. “I was missing.”

Irving licked his top teeth, produced another smile, and poured himself another cup. “Of course. Of course. That’s what I meant.” He downed the second cup, coughing on this one. He crumpled the cup and threw it away before the coughing stopped.

“Are you all right, sir?”

“Me? I’m fine. I’m fine. Just went down the wrong pipe, is all.” He pulled up a chair beside Carter and sat, looking as relaxed as possible and rubbing his hands together.

“You called me to your office, sir,” said Carter expectantly.

Irving clapped his hands. “Yes, yes. I wanted
to
welcome you back in person and tell you myself how pleased we are to have you back.”

“Thank you again, sir. . . . And is that all?”

Irving’s left eye began to twitch, and he rubbed it with a finger until it stopped. Once composed again, he grinned as if nothing had happened. “No, I also called you in here for another reason.” He leaned forward in his chair, looking concerned. “I wanted to assure you that I didn’t know Frank would find this building when I sent him out there.”

“When
you
sent him out there?”

“It seemed a good course of action to examine the scene thoroughly. But I didn’t want to flood the place, you know. Two men would be enough, I said. Carter and that new one, Dr. Hartman. They’ll do, I said. So that’s why I sent just the two of you out there. I’m sure Frank told you it was an assignment I had given him, and I simply wanted to clarify the matter. I didn’t want you thinking I had sent you there . . .” he laughed, “intentionally. I can assure you I had no idea of the danger that was waiting for you.”

Carter shifted in his seat. “Actually, Director Irving, Dr. Hartman never explained to me that the assignment had come from you. This is the first I’m hearing of it.”

The grin on Irving’s face waned. “I see. Well, all the same, I didn’t want there to be any confusion. You understand.”

“Oh, I understand, sir. I understand perfectly. You’re getting sloppy.”

Irving was sure he misheard. Smiling good-naturedly, he said, “Come again.”

“I said you’re getting sloppy, sir. Look at your hands. They’re trembling. You’ve waited too long between treatments.”

Irving paled. “What are you talking about? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Carter reached into his own pocket and produced a small vial of clear, thick liquid. “Treatment, sir.”

Irving suddenly stood, the back of his hand covering his mouth. “Where did you get that? I mean, what is that?”

“Look at you,” said Carter, a look of disgust on his face. “You’re a mess. You can’t even keep your thoughts straight.” He stood and went behind Irving’s desk, pulling out drawers.

“What are you doing there?” said Irving. “Get away from that. Those are my things.”

“Please,” said Carter. “Stop whining like a baby fighting for his rattle.” He opened the top drawer and found what he was looking for: a vial of liquid identical to his own. Except Irving’s was nearly empty.

“You’re almost empty,” said Carter, holding it up. “You’re using too much of it, too quickly. You have to ration it.”

Irving stood like a statue, mouth agape.

“The treatment affects us all in different ways, Eugene. The weak-minded become drooling idiots while the strong ones, the ones like you and me, of course, stay cool as popsicles. Only you’re not so cool anymore, Eugene, are you?” He tossed Irving his vial, and Irving caught it. “You’re melting away, Eugene. Losing it. Coming apart at the seams. And unless you wise up, you will disappoint the master. And you don’t want that, Eugene. You don’t want to disappoint the master.”

Irving closed his eyes and cried quiet little sobs. He shook his head. He didn’t want to disappoint the master.

“And that’s why I’m here,” said Carter. “That’s why the master chose me.” He sat in Director Irving’s desk and put his feet up. “He’s been a little displeased with your performance so far. First you fail to inform him that agents were watching the home of one of his potential clients. And Stone nearly gets shot to pieces. Then he asks you to send Dr. Hartman to the compound, and for some reason you ask me to tag along. The prophet was surprised by that and was forced to improvise. So he took me under his wing as well. And my assignment, Eugene, is to make sure you don’t
screw it up. Call me the prophet’s insurance plan. That’s like the master, isn’t it? Always thinking ahead.”

Irving nodded. It
was
like the master. Irving wasn’t sure why he felt so certain of this—he had no evidence to support the claim—but the master was good at things, after all, so it must be true.

“I’m glad we see eye to eye, Director Irving. Because it isn’t over yet.” He put his feet down and picked up a pen off Irving’s desk, spinning it in his fingers. “Now, about this Healer your boys shot and apprehended. Pray tell, what
are
we going to do about him?”

Frank opened his eyes and immediately vomited up water. He was still in the river, pressed against a felled tree positioned between the rocks. The current churned around him, pulling at his feet and nearly sucking him under again. But his arms were draped over the tree, and his head was up. He reached out with the one arm that didn’t pain him, grabbed a tree branch, and pulled himself out of the water.