The Deaths of Tao (3 page)

“He doesn’t know his father!” Jill snapped.

“I’m not the one who forbade visits,” he snapped back. “Might I–”

Stop.
 

“Tao, butt out.”

Stop. Now. You dummies are quarreling in a parking lot at two in the morning off the side of a highway. You can go ahead and be stupid with each other, but at least have your shared idiocy some place safe where I am not endangered.
 

Roen sighed. “Come on, Jill, it’s late. We’ve both been drinking. Let’s talk at my place.”

She narrowed her eyes and her mouth curved upward. For a second, the old mischievous Jill he remembered was back. “Inviting me over? That’s a bold move. Daddy’s been asking where in Africa you Fedexed yourself to. Now I get to save him from needing vaccination shots.”

“How are Louis and Lee Ann?” Roen asked. No doubt both her parents wanted to string him up and use him as a piñata. It was really too bad. Roen had spent an inordinate amount of effort to get on Louis’ good side. At first, Louis didn’t think he was good enough for Jill, but he softened when he saw the engagement ring. Then he hardened up two minutes later when he found out it was going to be a shotgun wedding. He didn’t soften again until Cameron was born.

“Busy taking care of your son,” Jill replied, deflating. “I just couldn’t do it. Couldn’t take care of my own son with all that’s going on. I’m a terrible mother.”

Roen saw a tear sneak out of the corner of her eye and roll down her face. He reached over to embrace her. She socked him in the shoulder. Roen bit his lip and held his hands up in surrender. At least she still hadn’t learned how to throw a punch yet, else this conversation might become painful.

He was a bit uneasy about Jill’s parents taking care of Cameron, though. He knew that regardless of what happened between them, Jill would never badmouth him, but who knew what poison her parents, Louis especially, were whispering into his son’s ears. “How did you know I’d be at Buck’s anyway?” he asked

“Because you’re always here after one of your watch-over-Jill escapades,” she shrugged. “Don’t think the Prophus haven’t kept an eye on you. You’re not as off the grid as you think you are.”

She has a point. You have been maddeningly predictable lately.
 

“On the subject of which, by the way,” she added, “who’s your mole in Command?”

Roen shrugged, feigning innocence.

“Who’s our leak?” she repeated, emphasizing each word. “Come on, your having access to mission tactics and playing shadow on some of my assignments means some jackass with misplaced loyalties is feeding you intel. Who’s the dunce?”

“Not some of your assignments,” he grumbled. “All of them. I’ve watched your back on all twelve of those crap missions Command has sent you on over the past year.”

“Fourteen,” she corrected.

Roen shook his head. “Costa Rica doesn’t count. You didn’t even bring your gun. And I arranged for you to be watched in Paris. And a mole won’t be much of one if you knew, would it?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Sure you don’t,” he said gruffly. “You had tonight completely under control. Come on, my place isn’t far. Follow in your car. We can finish this conversation at a secure location.”

Jill looked like she was about to protest but then thought better of it. Baji must have seen the wisdom of his proposal. It must have killed her to agree with him. A small victory. Baji barely ever conceded anything to him, and she was like this before Sonya died. It must be ten times worse now.

They got into their cars and drove another six kilometers west deeper into the Appalachians, two lonely sets of headlights weaving through the darkened hills. Eventually, he pulled off the highway and traveled down a sloping gravel road to a dried up ravine. He parked under a small ledge that hid the car from the sky and got out. Moments later, Jill pulled up next to him.

“Either you live in a tent, or you lured me here to murder me,” she mused, looking around.

“After you, my lady,” Roen smirked as he gestured magnanimously at a crooked myrtle tree growing out of the slope.

Jill rolled her eyes and peered underneath the tree. She whistled when she discovered a concrete tunnel burrowed into the ravine covered by a rusty gate. “When you said you were going underground, you really meant it,” she said, impressed. “Gone to live with your kind?”

“Are you calling our son half-rat?” he teased.

“My looks, my brains, thank God,” she answered.

They passed through the gate and walked down the dark tunnel. Roen flicked a switch, and a series of dull yellow makeshift lights buzzed on one by one, illuminating a tunnel that continued on for a good fifty meters. They walked in silence for a ways, their footsteps making a series of dull thunks that echoed all around them.

“How did you find this place?” she finally asked.

Roen kicked a rock and watched it bounce around the circular tunnel. “When I left the Prophus, I needed a new supplier. A lead pointed me to Old Alex, a recluse selling illegal munitions. He was a doomsday prepper who bought this old nuclear missile silo back in the Eighties and turned it into one of those underground castles. What we’re passing through right now is the exhaust of Launch Pad 2.

“The old man hated the government and thought the world was involved in one big conspiracy. Went on for hours about them coming to take his guns and his Bibles and his moonshine. Finally got busted trying to buy a Soviet tank. Died of lung cancer in prison. Guy never believed in hospitals. Thought they’d harvest his organs or something. Who’d want his dirty kidneys I’ll never know. He had no family and all his friends had four legs. When I found out he died, I moved in. Now I have a lifetime supply of munitions to play around with.”

They reached the end of the tunnel where a large rust-stained door and a high-tech electronic keypad not unlike the ones on their safe houses barred their way. Roen muttered a phrase in front of a microphone and put his eye in front of the scanner. The door beeped and hissed open, and they entered what could only be described as his living room.

It was a massive silo that spanned upward so far a person couldn’t see the ceiling. The room was filled with mismatched furniture; some looked like Roen had found it at a garage sale while others looked like pristine antiques. There was a couch that Jill swore was an authentic French colonial antique, and then a tacky coffee table made from carriage wheels. Three shelves of books lined one side of the circular room. There was also an air hockey table and a lifting bench on the far end. On the near side was a set of six LCD televisions stacked on top of each other.

“Living out your Bruce Wayne dreams, I see,” she remarked. “It’s actually quite impressive. I spent the past two years imagining you were living it up on some beach in Panama surfing all day and hitting on the locals at night.”

“That was the first six months,” he grinned. He gestured at the barren kitchen. “Mi casa es su casa.”

“Anything respectable to drink or did you go native with the moonshine?” she asked.

He took out a half bottle of bourbon and two glasses “Little low on ice,” he apologized as he poured her a glass and mixed it with water. “You’re staying for the night?”

Jill shook her head. “I need to be back on the Hill in...” she checked her watch, “seven hours.”

Roen took the glass away from her. “It’s a three-hour drive. Stay or you get water. Tao would probably like to have a few words with Baji.”

“I’m not sure Baji feels the same way. Give me the drink. I’m a big girl.”

Roen hesitated before handing the glass back to her. They had more pressing issues to fight about than her drinking habits. He sat down on the couch opposite her and leaned forward. “So how is our Cameron?”

“Sprouting like a weed. Throwing kicks and punches better at three than his daddy at thirty.” Jill offered the first sincere smile he’d seen all night. For a few minutes, they forgot about their past and fell into the world of their son. Roen was briefly overcome by guilt and pain as she detailed Cameron’s first time on a bike with training wheels. For a few moments, their problems over the past two years were put on hold and they were a family again, sharing proud pictures of their son.

An hour later, she was still regaling him with the latest adventures of three year-old Cameron. It had gotten late and both of them were exhausted, barely able to keep their eyes open. They huddled close together. Roen could smell the faint aroma of smoke, blood, and alcohol over her. It made him even more protective as he held her gently.

“You did this on purpose,” she murmured sleepily. “I need to get back to Washington.”

Roen mumbled something incomprehensible as he wrapped his arm over her shoulder and closed his eyes. And for that brief moment, they were a couple again.

 

THREE

BAJI AND TAO

The ship burned up entering Earth’s atmosphere, breaking into several pieces that rained death across the face of the planet. It had been bred to harden its membrane when exposed to the high heat of atmospheric entry. It was the only thing that saved us from complete annihilation.
 

The bulk of our people were vaporized with the main portion of the ship when it crashed into the ocean. Several hundred thousand of us survived in the fragments that were scattered across the Earth. I was in a section of the ship that crashed into the depths of what is now known as Africa.
 

Tao

 

“Hello, Baji.”

Jill’s eyes fluttered open and focused on Roen looking down at her. She pulled away from him and moved to the other end of the couch, a twisted look of anger on her face. “What do you want, Tao?”

Tao, through Roen, leaned forward. “Right now, I want to talk to my old friend. How are you?”

Baji shook her head in disbelief. “You have some nerve to ask that. Things are terrible. In fact, in the history of our six hundred year war, including that fifty years I spent in the Tower of London, this is the worst it has ever been. Maybe if you had not run out on us, you would know.”

“Come now, the Tower of London was nice as prisons go,” Tao said mildly. “Besides, you know me better than that. When have I ever run from this war?”

“Then where were you when Capulet’s Ski Lodge fell? Where were you when Dubai and Ankara were invaded? Were you with us defending Central Command when they came to Denver? Right when the Genjix brought the hammer down, you disappeared.”

“Our bases in those cities were casualties the moment the Genjix infiltrated the old network. My presence there would not have made a difference.”

Baji stabbed a finger into Tao’s chest, pushing him back. “Six Prophus and a squad of thirty held off four hundred Genjix in Boulder for five days. Reinforcements were three hours too late. Do not dare tell me the great Tao could not have made a difference.”

She leaned back and buried her face into her hands. Tao could tell Baji was exhausted.

“We have lost two hundred to the Eternal Sea this year alone. Newly acquired intel uncovered a prison in Tibet holding approximately two thousand agents and hosts. What could be so important for you to run out on us?”

“The Genjix are playing a different game now, and it has nothing to do with controlling humanity.” Tao grimaced. “We were not doing a good job of winning the old way regardless.” He stood up and walked away, then rounded on her, suddenly furious. “I warned them after the fall of Toronto. I told those fools to initiate the guerrilla protocol and go underground!”

Baji stood up and glared. “And when the Keeper did not listen and ordered you to focus on other objectives, you left in a huff. And with you, Jill’s husband and Cameron’s father.” She threw her hands in the air. “Did you imbeciles stop to think about the consequences? They were a family. Did you two selfish bastards ever consider what you put her through?”

“Do not put this on Roen. She threw him out of the house!”

“That is because he disappeared for months at a time on off-book missions. On your orders, I might add!” she snapped. “He was not there when she was struggling to raise his newborn.”

Tao lowered his eyes and whispered. “Roen struggles with this more than you can imagine, but it was important. He understood.”

“You felt it was important! And make no mistake, it was your plan. That imbecile obeys you like a trained dog, so it could not have conceivably been his idea.”

“It had to be done,” he said more emphatically. “The information I received out of South Korea was too important to ignore. The Keeper chose not to put resources into it. I did what had to be done. Command has been dropping the ball more and more these days.”

“By hiding in an abandoned missile silo in the middle of the mountains?” She raised her voice. “By stalking our communication channels and popping up whenever it suits you?” Baji shook her head and turned away. “I have known you since the Inquisitions. You have never been predictable. In a way, that made you the most human of us all. And Sonya paid the price.”

“It always goes back to Sonya, does it not?” Tao snapped. “People die in war. Edward died. Do you think I did not mourn him?”

She stalked back toward him. “Yes, it always goes back to Sonya. Edward died on a mission in the line of duty. He accepted the risks. You had twenty years with him. Sonya was just coming into her own. She was going to be one of my greatest hosts, and Roen robbed me of her potential. She left Metropol to save him. He was the reason she was captured. She died for your idiot host because he had a brain freeze and went after his stupid girlfriend.”

Tao frowned. “The stupid girlfriend that is your current host? With the way you treat humans, maybe you should fight for the Genjix.”

Baji’s left hook just missed Roen’s nose. Fortunately, with the sluggish control the Quasing had with their hosts, Tao blocked it, if barely.