Separation (10 page)

“We have IV bags, bandages and some syringes,
among other basic items. What else do you need?”

A centrifuge and a DNA differentiator
happened to be the two most needed items, but without them, Harry
had to rely on his knowledge and intuition. “If you have a few
glass slides and a microscope, I can run some preliminary tests. I
also need a couple of sterile syringes.”

“I will get what you ask for.”

Once Carlo had gathered the materials, Harry
used the syringe to withdraw some blood from Istvan. The little
pig-man stoically offered his arm up, but he sounded most dubious.
“You know my blood is special. You say so to me. Why you need
now?”

Harry had tested Istvan before, once in
Hungary, but he had to make sure of something. Even without
specialized equipment, he was able to run the most basic tests.
“Trust me, it won’t take very long.”

Dropping a little blood on a glass slide, he
examined the platelets under the microscope, squinting to make sure
of, and... there! It couldn’t be, yet it was. He then fed a few
computations into the computer, went up to the surface, ran the
equations, and sweated as he waited out the results as much from
anticipation as fear of being caught. He then returned below. “What
is it?” asked Istvan, once he came back.

It turned out Harry’s hunch had been correct.
“Your blood
is
different, yes,” he said, “but not in the way
you think.”

“I do not understand.”

While the little man’s blood carried an
enzyme capable of mitigating if not curing a whole host of
diseases, it had a time limit. “It can only be used within a
seventy-two hour time period,” said Harry.

“I still do not understand.”

Keep it simple.
“I have to make sure,
but if I’m right, the enzyme in your blood can stop or even cure
diseases if it’s combined with conventional medicine. The problem
is the enzyme breaks down after three days.

“In you, it’s keeping you alive and healthy.
You’ll live a long time. It’s also probably why you haven’t
devolved. But in someone else, it won’t work unless the medicine is
administered within that time period. Do you understand?”

Istvan nodded slowly while he listened to the
explanation. “I think so. It means my blood must be used as soon as
possible. It cannot be stored?”

“No, it can’t.”

Istvan nodded once more as if seeing the word
picture painted before his eyes. If Allenby was also aware of this,
then it meant he’d keep Istvan on tap twenty-four hours a day,
seven days a week. Not only that, Anastasia was expecting, and he
didn’t want her running around. Knowing her, she wouldn’t sit out
any fight and that meant trouble. Oh, this shed new light on the
meaning of the phrase imminent departure.

Grabbing his computer, Harry went on the
search for the underground’s security expert and found him talking
to three other dog-men. “I need to send another message and contact
my people. This is important.”

Carlo shook his head. “We cannot go up now. I
have reports citizens are searching for us. They spotted another of
our group nearby. They may know of our location. They may not, but
we cannot take the chance. Please wait.”

Anxious but aware detection would probably
lead to everyone’s death, Harry nodded. “Let me know when it’s
safe.”

“I will.”

With that, Harry rejoined his wife in the
chamber. Istvan and the others had decamped to another area and
most of the other occupants were sleeping. Anastasia curled up with
a blanket over top of her. “So,” she whispered, “is this the
vacation you planned on?” Her tone came across only as mildly
mocking.

“No, but I figured we’d go somewhere more
exotic,” he answered. Concerned, he placed his hand once more on
her stomach. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

A look of exasperation flashed across her
face. “I told you before, I’ll be fine. Morning sickness won’t stop
me. I can still move. When it’s time to go home, I’ll go, but for
now you need me.”

He started to say something, but she leaned
over and kissed him. Stroking the side of his face, she murmured,
“I love you, husband. Let’s get some sleep.”

Harry awoke when someone touched his arm. He
sprang to his feet, claws out. “Wait,” a voice whispered. “It is
me, Carlo.”

Quickly, Harry retracted his claws. His guide
stood a couple of feet away. “Let your wife sleep,” Carlo said.
“The area is clear for now. I will guide you up. We will leave this
place after you are finished sending your message.”

Pointing at one of the dog-men who stood by
the chamber entrance, he gave him a signal, and the dog-man went to
the sliding brick wall and opened it up. “That person is from
France. He escaped and brought us a message. We are to meet up in
the countryside of Lyon as soon as possible. He will guide the
way.”

Good news to hear.

On the surface, Harry sent a message. This
time Jason answered.
I got the information here. Hang
on.

Seconds later, a picture flashed on the
computer’s screen. It was the man Leo had described, right down to
the port wine stain. Harry’s heart began to beat fast, and he
smelled something—men. The odor of sweat, fear, and rage was
unmistakable. “We’ve got to get below,” he said to his guide.
“Istvan has to leave now. Everyone has to leave.”

“I understand. Let us descend,” his guide
said.

Down in the chambers, the dog-man disappeared
into one of the other chambers, ostensibly to warn everyone. Harry
stood with his wife, and Monsignor Morello came over to meet them.
“I am sorry I could not meet with you earlier. There are spies
everywhere.”

“Even among your people?” asked
Anastasia.

A look of sorrow crossed the old man’s face.
“Yes, even among us there are those filled with hatred.” He shook
his head, apparently in dismay for his fellow members of the
clergy. “At any rate, I have a message from France. As Carlo has
informed you, they will meet you soon. We have linked up with
Bernhard Lambert. He is their government’s official liaison, but we
must be careful...”

His speech was interrupted by an explosion
and the chambers rocked under the force of the blasts. Dust sifted
down, and really, did they need a cave-in right now? The cries of,
“They are here, they are here,” rang throughout the entire
underground complex.

Machine gun fire soon drowned out the cries
for help. Anastasia came running over with Leo and Istvan in tow.
The look of fear on her face was magnified twofold in her small
companions’ faces.

“Take them out of here,” Carlo said, handing
over another memory stick. “This is the information on where to
meet. I will hold them off.” He pulled a pistol out of his
waistband, checked the ammo clip, and cocked the weapon.

“You can’t—”

“Go!”

Having no choice in the matter, Harry
pocketed the memory stick, slung the bag over his shoulder, grabbed
Anastasia’s hand, and took off for the exit. In turn, she grabbed
both little men and shoved them ahead of her. They made it to the
exit as the sounds of grenades going off and bullets filled the
chambers along with the cries of the hunted. “Keep going,” she
urged.

Shouts of rage filled the air. The death
squads had arrived, and Morello stood in the way of six armed men,
his arms spread wide. “Stop,” he cried. “This is holy ground you
are on. The Pope has declared these people are to be protected. You
are doing the work of the devil. I beg you to see the light!”

One of the men cocked his machine gun and
aimed it at the old man. “You are in league with the devil. They
are demons of hell and you will join them.”

He cut loose with a burst of gunfire and
Morello fell to the ground. Six other transgenics charged, but the
gunfire was intense and they soon joined the Cardinal in death.

Carlo was the last to stand against them.
With a snarl, he fired his pistol, taking out three of the
assassins, but even he, too, fell. A bloody smile was on his face
as he spiraled down to the hard earth.

“We must leave,” Leo panted as he pushed the
bricks on the wall. It slid open. “I know the way. I will guide
you.”

Hurriedly, they made their way into the
sewer. Anastasia gave a sudden gasp and bent at the waist. Harry
put his arm around her shoulders. “Can you make it?”

She shook his arm off. “It was just a dizzy
spell. I’m fine. Keep moving.” She followed Leo and Istvan up the
ladder to the surface.

At the top, Leo pressed a small button on the
side of the sewer wall. Harry hadn’t even noticed it and asked,
“What is this?”

“It is armed. If they follow us here, they
will get surprise.”

It seemed like a good way to deter any
followers. Harry grunted and pushed the manhole cover off. Poking
his head through the hole, he cautiously surveyed the area. It
seemed clear for the moment. “Let’s go.”

They emerged in the alleyway and flattened
their backs against the wall. Anastasia asked, “Where do we go from
here?”

Leo sniffed the air. “There is truck up
ahead. We can drive over border... but men are coming.”

“Are they like us?”

“No.”

Waving them back, Harry took the lead and
peeked around the corner. Leo’s sense of smell was definitely off
the charts. Three men armed with clubs were headed their way. “I’ve
got this.”

“Not without me, you don’t,” Anastasia
declared.

She would pick this time to go and
fight.
“Be careful.”

A silly notion, really, as with a yowl, she
leaped out ahead of him and took on the first two men, slashing the
weapons out of their hands and taking them out with a few sharp
punches.

So much for motherhood, he thought as he went
to join in the fray. After clobbering the third man with a vicious
right hook, he panted and then called out softly, “Leo, show us the
way.”

Leo got his assertiveness back, sniffed the
air, and led the way through the back alleys and cobblestone
streets until they came to a truck. “You can drive?”

Harry got in and started the engine. “I’ve
got this. Just tell me which roads to take.”

The little mole-man got in beside him.
Anastasia got in back with Istvan, and Harry put the truck into
gear and drove slowly and carefully out of the city.

The way ahead was clear, and Leo gave
instructions on where to turn. Once they’d reached the countryside,
Harry pulled over to the side of the road and killed the engine. “I
have to check something.”

Pulling the memory stick from his pocket, he
fed the information into the computer, and a map of the Lyon
countryside in France sprang up. He noted the location, then sent a
message to the USA.
This is Maze
the reply came.
The
transponder signal is working perfectly.

Where’s Overton?

Hang on a second.

Harry waited impatiently, drumming his
fingers on his thighs, and then a message flashed on the screen.
This is Overton. I just got back a few hours ago.

How are you feeling?

Shoulder’s banged up and I have jetlag...
I’ll make it. Where are you headed?

France,
Harry wrote.
We’re supposed
to link up with a man named Lambert in Lyon. Follow us
there.

The transponder signal is only good for
another thirty-six hours,
Overton wrote back.
Have you got
Istvan with you?

Yes. We’ll take him along and try to get him
back to the USA as soon as we can.

I’ll have a plane waiting for you at
Lyon-Saint-Exupery Airport. I’ll be on it. Be at the airport at
08:30 on Tuesday, runway seven. We’ll fly you home.

It was Sunday night, so they’d be cutting it
close. Right now, there was no way to know if they’d make their
flight, so Harry simply typed in
we’ll try. If we can’t, we’ll
find another way.

Logging off, he stowed the computer away and
turned to Leo. “It’s up to you. We have to get to the border and
then find a way over.”

“I get you there,” Leo declared. “Let us
go.”

Back at the truck, Anastasia elected to sleep
in the back. “I’m either going to get carsick or morning sick,” she
said. “You don’t want to see me heave in the front seat, do
you?”

It seemed like the best idea. She kissed him
quickly and then clambered into the rear, followed by Istvan. They
set out, the way ahead dark, but there had to be some light at the
end of the tunnel, and Harry was determined to find it.

Getting to the border of France didn’t prove to be
much of a problem at first. There was very little traffic, and they
saw only a few vehicles on the highway. Their problem was fuel.
After the first three hours, they ran out of gas. The estimated
distance from Rome to Lyon was around five hundred miles, and they
had to cross the border, which meant avoiding armed personnel who
might not be overly welcoming.

Additionally, they had to meet this Lambert
character in Lyon, and if they ran into any citizens on patrol, it
would not bode well for them. Once they abandoned their vehicle,
they skirted civilization as best they could and picked their way
through the countryside.

It was dark, roughly three in the morning,
and the stars shone brightly under a clear sky. Great, Harry
thought, there couldn’t have been better weather in order to spot
someone. Their going was slow, and they were careful to keep low to
the ground and avoided making undue noise. Conversation was kept to
a minimum.

During their first hour of walking, they
spotted a group of five men armed with flashlights. They were
talking to each other in rough, heavy tones, each word laced with
menace. Harry didn’t understand Italian, but he heard the word
straniero
mentioned a number of times and asked Leo what it
meant.