Stranded (A stand-alone SF thriller) (The Prometheus Project Book 3) (23 page)

BOOK: Stranded (A stand-alone SF thriller) (The Prometheus Project Book 3)
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Miguel nodded his agreement. “Regan is right,” he said.

A surge of adrenaline coursed through Regan’s veins. She was beginning to get through to them. She decided to use an example involving sweat that Ryan had made up when he was convincing her of the truth. He said he thought of it because people naturally started sweating when they were afraid, and a swarm of bees had shown him that sweat could be dangerous. She had no idea what he meant by
that
.

“Imagine a planet full of carnivores with an incredible sense of smell,” said Regan. “But they can’t smell
humans so they leave them alone. The only human scent they
can
smell is sweat, and this smell drives them out of their minds with rage. When they smell it they have to destroy the source at all cost. So everything is perfect between humans and these animals until one of the humans sweats for some reason.”

“Then the carnivores smell it and come after them,” said Mr. Resnick.

“Right. Which causes the humans to sweat some more. Which causes more animals to pick up the scent and attack. Which causes the humans to sweat even more. It’s a never ending cycle. But what we’ve been dealing with is far worse, because what the wildlife is bringing out of us isn’t sweat. It’s fear. It’s hatred. It’s rage. It’s a kind of madness.”

Even though the eyes of many in the group burned with the exact rage of which Regan was speaking, she knew she was getting through.

“Hostility between us and the native wildlife is mirrored back and forth and amplified,” said Regan. “Have any of you ever remembered being
this
angry? For
this
long?”

Mrs. Resnick shook her head. “No. Not even close. But I can’t shake it. You’re my daughter and I know I love you. But every time I hear your voice I want to scream at you to shut up. It’s been taking all my self-control not to try to rip the arms off everyone in the group.”

There were murmurs of agreement from several members of the expedition.

“This team is as good as it gets,” said Regan. “Everyone here has been tested and selected because they’re great scientists. Or the best military people in the country,” she added, nodding in Miguel and Cam’s direction. “Calm. Smart. Good at working with others. Yes we’ve been under a huge amount of pressure. But look at us! We’ve been at each other’s throats since we were attacked in the rainforest.”

She had even more evidence, but it was evidence Ryan had given her that she couldn’t pass on. Evidence that had helped Ryan piece everything together. She and her brother had been in some tough spots. And the tougher things got, the closer they became. Ryan had always kept his cool under pressure. But not this time. This time he had turned into a hateful jerk. In addition to some of the hurtful things he had said to Regan, he told her how he beat his fists against the shield until he couldn’t lift them. How he had hurled stones at the pack and screamed at them until his throat hurt. Ryan had gone insane with rage also. But just a few minutes back on Earth had helped him regain his emotional balance.

“There are four of us who have been in a state of constant hatred,” continued Regan. “And four of us who haven’t. You all know who you are.”

Everyone surveyed everyone else and it became instantly
obvious. Four sets of eyes were rational. Four sets were burning with barely contained fury.

“Eric, Bob, Donna, and Mom are filled with hatred,” said Regan. “Miguel, Cam, Dad and I aren’t. So what’s different about these two groups?”

“Just tell us!” thundered Donna, further demonstrating Regan’s point. “You’re right. You must be. These animals
are
driving us mad. Which makes it hard to concentrate. So get on with it!”

“The difference is that Miguel, Cam, Dad and I were all injured,” said Regan. “We were all dosed with the Med-Pen. The four of you weren’t.”

Her father tilted his head in thought. “So the Med-Pen must interpret the changes to the emotional centers of our brains as infections. Infections it can cure.”

“Exactly,” said Regan.

Ryan had told her that when their mom had finally used a Med-Pen on Carl, it had rebalanced him emotionally within about five minutes. Regan’s own experience had been similar.

“I felt normal about five minutes after I used the Med-Pen,” said Regan.

Mr. Resnick nodded. “Me too. I was finally able to remain calm.”

“So that’s why you needed a Med-Pen,” said Eric. “You wanted to dose us all and cure us of this emotional poisoning.”

“Yes. And I think when we do the animals will go back to ignoring us.”

“It won’t happen,” said Donna. “We’re far past the point of no return.”

“We
aren’t
,” insisted Regan. “Have you noticed that none of the animals threw themselves at the shield trying to get at Miguel and Cam? That’s because they couldn’t ‘smell’ them emotionally. So we need for everyone to be cured by the Med-Pen. And then we have to relax. Be super calm. Generate no emotions, or even positive emotions. Let the animals of Isis go back to not being able to sense us, to thinking we’re harmless trees or something.”

“Okay, already,” said Eric Morris, nodding. “I took the Med-Pen,” he confessed, pulling the alien device from his pocket. “Let’s give it a try.”

Eric pointed the Med-Pen at Donna, Bob, Amanda Resnick and himself, pressing the appropriate control each time. “You had better be right!” he hissed, unable to control his hostility even knowing what was causing it.

Regan blew out a mouthful of air in relief and lowered the silver remote. “In five minutes or so you’ll all be able to think clearly again,” she said. “We’ll be able to work as a team again.”

No one spoke for three or four minutes, waiting to see what would happen.

Mr. Resnick broke the long silence. “Your analysis is excellent, Regan,” he said. “But do you have any idea
how this ability to transmit and receive emotional energy could have developed?”

Regan thought about it for a moment. “Not really,” she said.

“I think I do,” said her mother, already beginning to feel more like herself. “I think it has to do with the volcanic nature of the planet. We’ve seen that lava can sneak up on you. Maybe in the early days of life on Isis this happened all the time. Rare animals were born with the ability to sense emotional energy at a distance. Negative emotional energy. Because they could sense the panic and fear of hundreds of other animals running away from lava many miles away, they could save themselves. Evolution rewarded this trait. These animals survived to have offspring while many animals without this trait didn’t.”

“An interesting hypothesis,” said Eric, also now feeling more like his old self. “We wondered why the animals surrounding us had left when we were about to set up the portable force-field. Now we know.”

“Right,” said Mrs. Resnick. “They knew the lava was coming—ten or fifteen minutes before it reached us. They sensed the collective panic and fear of the animals that were closer to the lava source and
hadn’t
been warned. While the lava river was on us before we had any warning,
they
had plenty of time to get away. They left calmly. Orderly.”

“A very unique survival mechanism,” said Bob.
“From its early start as a natural disaster warning mechanism, this sense probably evolved a variety of uses. And the animals evolved the ability to send as well as receive emotions.”

“The sense probably takes the place of smell in many situations,” said Mrs. Resnick. “Predators on Earth use scent to track prey. Prey animals can smell hidden predators approaching. Isis animals must have developed a complex system to use emotional energy to sense or to deceive other animals.”

Regan grinned. This was more like it. The three biologists were working together again. Without the slightest hint of hostility. They were back to acting like enthusiastic scientists rather than deranged serial killers.

After just a few more minutes there could be no doubt: the cure had taken complete effect. For the first time since being attacked in the woods, all eight of the human beings still stranded on Isis were calm and rational once again.

Although the predators were still circling, still itching to get at them, the humans stayed relaxed and unafraid. Gradually predator after predator wandered off, as if not sure why they had been there in the first place. Suddenly freed from the overwhelming compulsion to stop the source of the brain-splitting emotional energy being directed toward them, the wildlife returned to normal. Animals that were natural enemies woke up as
if they had been in a trance, and fled from each other or attacked each other violently.

Within five minutes every animal had dispersed.

“Ryan?”
broadcast Regan questioningly once the crisis was over.

“I’m still here,” came the immediate reply.

“You did it!”
she told him excitedly.
“It worked!”

“Fantastic,”
he replied, finally letting out the emotional breath he had been holding for almost an hour.

If his theory had been wrong his family would have surely died on Isis. Worry had eaten at his insides like battery acid as he waited to hear back from Regan. It had been the longest wait of his life.

“I can’t tell you how glad I am that being on Earth brought you back to your senses,”
broadcast Regan.

Ryan thought about how he had acted before he had left Isis and winced.
“Yeah, me too,”
he broadcast sheepishly.
“I was the biggest jerk ever.”

“Yeah, you were,”
agreed Regan with a grin.
“But it wasn’t your fault. And you saved all our lives—so you’ve got that going for you.”

Ryan smiled.
“Hey, I owed you one. I told you I’d make it up to you.”
He paused.
“Well, it’s a huge relief everything worked out. Hopefully we’ll be able to get you off Isis by Sunday. But I have to get going. I left Alyssa and Kelsey Cooper outside the zoo building almost an hour ago.”

Regan smiled.
“Good one, Ryan. It’s nice to see your sense of humor come back.”

“I’m not kidding.”

“Come on, Ryan. Alyssa? Inside Prometheus?”

Ryan chuckled.
“It’s a long story, Regs. But I have to get going. Next time you’re on Earth I’ll tell you all about it.”
With that Ryan stepped through the portal and severed their connection, wishing he could see the startled look he was certain was now frozen on his sister’s face.

C
HAPTER
29
A Lethal Decision

R
yan rejoined Alyssa and Kelsey and apologized for leaving them alone for so long. They hadn’t minded at all. The unique architecture of the city had continued to captivate them the entire time.

As he drove away from the zoo building Ryan considered telling Alyssa that he had lied that morning when he said he was an expert in classical and operant conditioning. He had done it so he would have something in common with her, but it was still a lie. He was getting very good at making up elaborate stories. It was true that much of the time he didn’t have a choice, and telling creative lies had saved his life on a number of occasions, such as when he had bluffed the mercenary in the woods earlier that evening. But just because there were many times he
had
to lie didn’t mean he should make it
a habit. It meant that he should make even more of an effort to be honest when he was able to be.

Just as he decided he would tell her, he realized it wouldn’t matter anyway. Carl would be sure to use his amnesia inhalant on her very soon. This inhalant, developed by a team of scientists at Carl’s insistence, would erase the previous ten hours of a person’s memory. Carl thought something like this was vital to protect the secrecy of Prometheus. When he used it on the Cooper sisters, they wouldn’t remember anything about Prometheus. If he used it soon, Alyssa wouldn’t remember her dentist appointment or her earlier conversation with Ryan either.

Ryan sighed. This was unfortunate, but there was no use dwelling on it.

He decided he should turn his attention to another matter anyway. Something was bothering him. Something Regan had broadcast to him when he had gone back to Isis, although for the life of him he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He had a nagging feeling it was something critically important, though, and he had learned to trust these strange hunches of his in emergency situations.

Hopefully he would figure it out, but right now they needed to reconnect with Carl. His ground assault team should have arrived long before to secure both Proact and Prometheus. Given that certain air force jets could travel well over a thousand miles per hour, Ryan
wouldn’t be surprised if the decorated colonel was already back in the city.

Sure enough, when they arrived at the entrance to Prometheus, Carl was facing a group of about twenty soldiers, issuing orders. Each was wearing full commando gear and carrying assault rifles. Although Carl was in civilian clothes, he carried himself with such confident grace and easy authority he had the instant respect of the soldiers. If not for the streaks of silver in his hair, no one would have guessed he was in his fifties. When he had finished giving orders the soldiers quickly dispersed to carry them out.

“Ryan!” said Carl warmly upon seeing him, his eyes lighting up. “Boy am I glad you’re okay.” He clapped Ryan on the back affectionately and turned to his two companions. “And you must be Alyssa and Kelsey.” He leaned forward and shook each of their hands. “I’m Colonel Carl Sharp. But please call me Carl.”

The girls shook his hand and said hello.

“Good timing,” said Carl. “I just entered the city a minute ago. I need to reset electronic security down here. Follow me.”

Carl began walking toward the security headquarters building that was very near the entrance to the city. The building projected a different holographic image around itself every day so it never looked the same twice. Today it was white and shaped like a tear-drop.

BOOK: Stranded (A stand-alone SF thriller) (The Prometheus Project Book 3)
4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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