Read Paradise Hacked (First Circle Club Book 2) Online
Authors: Alex Siegel
The soldiers were obviously unfamiliar with the base, and the driver made a few wrong turns. The car eventually pulled up to a brick building isolated from the others.
Sara was still bound at the wrists and ankles, but the soldiers didn't untie her. Two of them simply carried her inside the building. The lights were turned on.
The building contained big water valves, meters, filters, and pumps. She could hear water flowing through pipes as big as two feet across. An old desk, a wooden chair, and a tool chest were in the corner. The floor was solid concrete. Buzzing fluorescent fixtures hung from a ceiling with exposed wooden beams.
"What am I doing here?" Sara said.
"Staying for a while," a soldier muttered.
The men set her down on the cold floor. One of them found a big roll of duct tape among the tools, and he wound it around her body many times, pinning her arms to her sides.
"That's not very hospitable," Sara muttered.
More men entered the room. The soldiers snapped to attention and saluted a man wearing the silver bird of a colonel on his collar. Even without the insignia, Sara could tell by his bearing that he was in command.
The colonel had a big, beefy body and a round face. His brown hair was cut short and perfectly even. Pink ears stuck out on the sides of his head.
"I must apologize for the crude accommodations," he said. "We weren't really prepared to take prisoners, and our headquarters is currently in transition. I hope you're not uncomfortable."
"I guess I'm OK. I'm Sara. You are?"
"Just call me colonel. Sara Blandish?"
"The Blandish part is made up," Sara said.
"Ah. Before we get down to business, my medical doctor would like to examine you."
She knew the examination would produce some very surprising results, but she wasn't in a position to resist. She sighed. "Go ahead."
Another officer setup a video camera on a tripod. He crouched down in front of her and placed a medical bag on the floor. He turned on an audio recorder in his shirt pocket.
The doctor started by taking her temperature using an electronic thermometer. He stared at the reading, shook his head, and tried again.
After a third attempt, he reported, "Body temperature: 48 degrees. Could that be right?"
"Just continue," the colonel said.
The doctor shined a penlight into her eyes. "Pupils are... completely unresponsive. No visible blood vessels. No blink reflex. Say, 'ah.'"
"Ah," Sara said.
He pushed her tongue down with a tongue depressor. "Mouth is dry. No saliva. No tonsils. Fused teeth." He sounded frightened. "I want to look down your throat."
"Must you?" she said.
He nodded.
He took a flexible probe out of his bag. It had a tiny camera at one end and a display screen at the other. A built-in light provided illumination.
The doctor pushed the probe down Sara's throat. She had no gag reflex, but the experience was still unpleasant. He stared at the screen with a dismayed expression.
"What is it, doctor?" the colonel said.
"No esophagus. I don't think she has a digestive system."
"Keep going."
The doctor pulled out the probe and put it away. He used a stethoscope next to listen to her heart. He tried several different spots.
"No heartbeat," he reported. "Dead silent in there... or just dead." He rubbed his forehead anxiously. "Are you a zombie?"
Sara smirked. "No."
She noticed another man in the corner staring at her with particular fear on his face. He was wearing a lab coat over his uniform. He was tall and skinny, and he favored one leg. Big glasses enlarged his bloodshot eyes.
The doctor tried to take a blood sample next, but he couldn't draw any fluid through a standard needle. He had to use a much larger needle to extract a small amount of white, gluey material. He stared at it.
"You'll have to let me know what the analysis results are," Sara said. "I'm curious."
The doctor swallowed. "Tissue sample."
He grabbed a scalpel out of his bag. He cut a tiny piece of flesh off her calf and placed the sample in a test tube. He put a rubber stopper in the tube and clear tape over the stopper. By the time he finished, the wound had already healed.
"Are you done?" the colonel said.
The doctor nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Then get back." The colonel addressed the crowd in the room. "I have an announcement. I'm about to have a top secret conversation with the prisoner. You are staying here to protect me. She is extremely dangerous, and her capabilities are unknown. She might exert some kind of influence over our minds, so be wary. You must not repeat what you hear. Understood?"
All the soldiers said, "Yes, sir."
The colonel drew his sidearm and aimed at Sara's head. "Now, don't try any of your mind-control tricks, or I'll blow your head off."
"There are two errors in that statement," she said. "First, I'm not capable of mind-control. Second, that gun wouldn't blow my head off. It's a 9 mm. At worst it would make a nice hole."
"You're an expert on guns?"
Sara wanted to reply that she had seen tens of thousands of gunshot wounds during her career as a medical examiner. Instead, she merely said, "Yes."
"That's interesting," the colonel said, "but I care much more about your expertise on alien weapons and technology. Let's start at the beginning. What is your home world? Where do you come from?"
She raised one eyebrow. "You think I'm an alien?"
"Of course. That examination just established you can't possibly be human. What else would you be?"
Sara couldn't tell him the truth because Barachiel had forbidden it. Only the people directly involved with the First Circle Club knew of its existence. Mei and Detective Haymaker were the only mortals, and even that made the lords of Heaven and the princes of Hell uncomfortable. The whole arrangement violated the spirit of the Celestial Contract.
Sara needed a cover story. Fortunately, the colonel had just provided one.
"I'm from the planet Nibiru," she said. "We are called the Zetas, and we have been secretly observing earthlings for decades."
"For what purpose?" the colonel said.
"To determine if you're a threat, of course."
"And are we?"
"The human civilization is currently classified as 'mostly harmless,'" Sara said.
The skinny man in the corner appeared very surprised. He clearly hadn't expected that answer. She wondered what he knew.
"We examined your base in Chinatown," the colonel said. "We didn't find evidence of advanced technology."
"That's because you don't know how to look properly. I have a question for you. My people have detected unusual activity lately. What are you doing to cause so much trouble?"
The colonel stared at Sara for a moment. "Performing experiments," he finally said. "So far the results have been disappointing. You're going to tell us how to succeed."
"You'll have to be more specific."
"We're sending explorers through a gateway to your home world."
Sara immediately grasped the truth. Somehow they had found a passage to Heaven and were trying to use it. The next question was how they had discovered it. An angel must have told them.
"You're trying to invade my planet?" she said.
"We come in peace," the colonel said.
"Then why is everybody in this room armed? Why do you bear military insignia? Why were my friends and I attacked tonight? These are not peaceful actions."
"We're simply taking necessary precautions. Your technology is more advanced than ours."
That statement struck Sara as ironic. Angels and demons possessed almost no technology. Their methods hadn't changed in thousands of years. The Celestial Contract granted specific magical powers to them, but that had nothing to do with science or technology. When Sara had returned to Earth, she hadn't even known what a cell phone was. The colonel knew more about the modern world than her.
"Nonetheless," Sara said, "I'm not permitted to open that doorway for you. How did you discover the secret?"
Several people in the room glanced at the skinny man in the corner. She realized he was the key to everything.
"I'm not going to tell you that," the colonel said.
"Then I certainly won't help you. You obviously don't want a trusting relationship."
He waved his pistol menacingly. "I can compel you to cooperate."
Sara shook her head. "There is no power on Earth that can compel me to do anything. I feel no pain. I'm immune to heat and cold. If you want my cooperation, you'll need to earn it. You can start by telling me how you acquired forbidden knowledge."
The colonel just stared at her.
"But I will give you a warning," she added. "Your experiments have pissed off some powerful folks. If you keep it up, they'll destroy you. It might already be too late. You need me to get you out of this mess."
"All I need from you is information, but this isn't the time or place for a real interrogation, and there are special considerations because you're an alien. Arrangements must be made. You'll wait here in the meantime."
The colonel left and took most of his men with him. The skinny guy in the corner was the last to go, and he gave Sara a fearful glance on the way out.
She looked at the half-dozen soldiers who remained behind. Their rifles were aimed at her head. She squirmed, but the duct tape allowed very limited movement.
"Anybody see a good movie lately?" she said in a joking tone.
She was answered with silence.
Sara had an idea. If she could make contact with Barachiel, the angel might rescue her.
"Can I have a glass of water, please?" she asked the soldiers. "I'm very thirsty. You don't want your prisoner to dehydrate, do you?"
The men looked at each other. Eventually, one brought a canteen over to her and held it to her lips. She head-butted the canteen, sloshing water onto the floor.
She leaned over the puddle and said, "Barachiel! Can you hear me?"
There was no response. Maybe the floor wasn't smooth or clean enough to allow the magic to work.
"Do you want the water or not?" the soldier said irritably.
"No, thanks," Sara said. "I changed my mind."
* * *
Mammon stared across the Lake of Ice at the bottom of Hell. The demon was wandering through the Ninth Circle, also known as the Pit. It was so cold, even Mammon was uncomfortable. Satan was locked in the ice at the center of the lake, and its enormous wings created a constant, freezing wind. Unlike most circles of Hell, the souls of the damned didn't cry out in pain here. They were buried under the ice, permanently frozen in grotesque positions, unable to scream.
Mammon heard a thunderclap, and another demon appeared. It was Azazel. Unlike most demons, the newcomer was handsome, even beautiful. Its skin was as smooth and black as gently flowing crude oil. It was the size of an elephant, but it had the body of a goat.
Mammon was astonished. Azazel was a notorious recluse and hadn't been seen in centuries. It had strange and mysterious powers. Mammon feared very few things in the universe. Satan was one, and Azazel was another.
"What are you doing here?" Mammon said. "Have you finally come out of hiding?"
"The chattering of fiends aroused my interest," Azazel said. "It seems Limbo has an unexpected new resident, a Mr. Peng Li, and you're responsible. Now I find you sulking on the shore of the Lake of Ice."
"I was just getting back at Heaven for stealing the souls of two sinners."
"A bold move. Did you have authorization?" Azazel looked across the lake at Satan in the far distance.
The Ruler of Darkness was half-submerged in the ice. Sinners were jammed into its three enormous mouths, and blood dripped down its chins.
"Uh, no," Mammon said. "Perhaps I was a bit hasty. You won't tell, will you?"
Azazel cracked a smile. "Of course not, most gluttonous one. I think your actions were justified. Such initiative should be encouraged."
Mammon exhaled with relief. "Thank you."
"It is curious though. You violated the Contract. I don't understand how."
Mammon looked down at the black, rocky shore. "I can't explain it. A sudden urge grabbed hold of me. For a moment, I had...."
"Free will?" Azazel raised its eyebrows.
"But that's not possible! I have no soul. I was created for a specific purpose. Are the humans infecting me with their creativity? Will I dream?" Mammon gasped in horror. "Will I... love? What's wrong with me?! I must tell Satan."
"Be at ease. Return to your duties, and we'll pretend this incident never happened. Satan does not need to know."
Mammon felt a sudden calm. Its troubling thoughts and fears evaporated.
It noticed Azazel was standing on the shore of the Lake of Ice.
"What are you doing here?" Mammon said.
"Just passing through," Azazel said. "Good bye." It vanished with a thunderclap.
Mammon looked across the lake at Satan.
"Why am I here?" Mammon muttered. "I have work to do." It also vanished.
* * *
Dr. Harlow's eyes kept closing. Dawn had come, and he had been awake all night.
He and his assistants were just finishing the process of packing the experimental equipment in the basement of the house. All the delicate electronics and laboratory apparatus were in cardboard boxes. Some of the boxes had already been loaded onto trucks, but Harlow had no idea where the stuff was going. Colonel Knox was keeping the location of the new headquarters secret for the moment.
Whenever Harlow closed his eyes, he saw the face of the creature called Sara. She looked like an attractive woman in her mid-thirties, but the examination had shown how superficial her appearance was. There was nothing human about her.
His experiments had brought that monster and others like her out of hiding. They were coming for him and would eventually catch him. The colonel's soldiers could only slow them down. The events of the night had left no doubt about that. Harlow's only hope was finding a way to use the portal safely first. Once he reached Heaven, he would be secure for all eternity.