The Deep Beneath (15 page)

Erika’s hand had involuntarily gone to her throat, checking for a rope. When she noticed it, she put her hand back to her side. “You killed him the same way you killed Nacho,” said Erika.

“Yes.”

Jack’s voice sounded hesitant, but he asked the inevitable question. “What happened then?”

“I ate my breakfast.”

“With him lying there, dead on your floor?” asked Erika. She could not imagine eating so much as a grain of rice if a dead person was in the same room as her.

“He was dead. I could not bring him back to life. And even if I could, I would not have. I was hungry, so I ate.”

Erika looked over to Jack, and he held his stomach and pretended to gag.

“They increased the humidity so you wouldn’t be a danger?” asked Ian.

“Yes. It worked quite well. Until tonight, that is.”

“What was it like? The humidity, I mean,” Erika asked.

Tex did not answer immediately but then said in nearly a whisper, “It is like a waking sleep.”

Erika tried to imagine what Tex meant but couldn’t quite get her head around it. She liked that her mind worked like pistons in a Hemi engine. Strong and solid. If her mind had been filled with cobwebs, she probably would have tried to end her life rather than live in a fog bank.
I wonder if he ever tried to kill himself.

“That attendant. He was a sicko,” said Jack. His voice dripped with disgust.

“I do not believe he was ill.”

“What Jack means is that he was probably sick in the head. You know, crazy,” said Ian. He swirled his finger by his head as if that would help Tex understand the term.

“Perhaps,” Tex said.

Erika had listened to Tex tell his story with rapt attention. And Tex had told the story with no more emotion in his voice than if he had read the phone book out loud. The cabin of the Hummer was thick with the silence left in the wake of Tex’s admission of his first killing.

“Did you feel upset for killing him?” asked Erika. She hoped that he’d say yes. If he had remorse for the act, it would mean that maybe he was more human than – what? Machine? Alien?

“I do not have any feelings about the episode other than regret that from that point forward, Commander Sturgis required that my quarters stay at such a high humidity level that I have lived the last ten years barely alive.”

“You feel no remorse for taking a human life?” asked Erika.

“I was designed to be a weapon, Erika Holt. I was not trained to feel regret for killing.”

The leather seat squeaked as Jack shifted. He wiped his hands on his jeans.

“You’re more than a weapon,” said Erika. “Back there, in the desert, you could have killed us, but you didn’t. If you were a mindless killing machine, you wouldn’t have spared us.”

“Then perhaps I am not very good at my job,” Tex said.

He turned and looked out his window. Erika took it as an indication that the conversation was over. She turned to her window as well, but all she saw in the dark was a hint of her own reflection. The image startled her. Her right eye was swollen, her hair looked like it had gone through a tornado, and her lower lip was cut. She closed her eyes so she didn’t have to look at the reflection of herself.

“I don’t understand this,” said Jack. “Why create these hybrids? He says he’s a weapon. A weapon against what? I mean, we’ve got bombs that’ll destroy a whole city and we don’t even need to be there. Push a button and goodbye. If we have that kind of technology, what do we need him for?”

“That’s a good question,” said Ian. “Do you know the answer, Tex?”

Tex turned his head and looked at Ian. “I was created to fight in the upcoming war.”

“What war?” asked Erika.

“The alien war.”

Commander Sturgis sat at her military-issue, grey, metal desk. She scanned the condolence letter to Lopez’s family that Sewell placed in front of her before lifting her pen to sign. She knew that she should call Lopez’s wife, but she had more important things to do than spend time listening to someone wailing. The letter would have to do.

The stated cause of death was that Lopez had fallen asleep at the wheel, run into a concrete barrier and perished in the flames caused by the gas tank’s explosion. Not only was it plausible, but it was, in fact, the truth. Well, almost the truth. Sewell had left out the part about the human-alien hybrid passenger.

Sturgis signed the letter and shoved it back to Sewell. “Have this hand-delivered today.”

Beads of sweat rimmed Sewell’s brow. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears as he took the letter. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. I know you hate this. Do you think I enjoy it?”

Sewell stood silently waiting to be dismissed.

“It’s a regrettable incident, Sewell. But remember, we must all make sacrifices if we’re to win this war.”

Sewell nodded. The intercom on Commander Sturgis’ phone buzzed. Sewell jumped slightly.

“Don’t be so jumpy, Sewell.” Sturgis picked up the phone. “Yes, what is it? Well, don’t be an idiot. Send him in. We can’t keep a general waiting.”

As Sturgis hung up the phone, she noticed that Sewell had gone two shades paler than his usual potato-flesh white. Sturgis could not imagine why Sewell would be anxious about a visit from General Bardsley. Sturgis was the one who should be nervous. After all, she was the one that needed to deal with General Bardsley’s wrath at the loss of a man and the escaped hybrid still at large.

Pasty-faced Sewell still stood in front of her desk. “You are dismissed.”

As Sewell opened the door to leave, General Bardsley was on the other side. His wide shoulders nearly filled the doorframe. Sewell looked like a small rodent next to the general.

“General Bardsley, please come in,” Commander Sturgis said. She tried to sound as fresh, warm, welcoming and awake as she could. It was not an easy task for her. She had not slept in over twenty-four hours, and she was not in the habit of being welcoming.

Sewell held the door open for General Bardsley, then snapped to attention. As Bardsley huffed into the room, Commander Sturgis also stood at attention.

“At ease.”

Sewell let the door close behind him, and Commander Sturgis dropped her arm. General Bardsley sat and motioned for Commander Sturgis to sit as well.

Bardsley looked back before he spoke, perhaps to ensure that Sewell had closed the door. “What the hell happened out there last night, Lilly?”

“A regrettable bit of business, that’s what.”

“You’ve got a crashed civilian car and a dead soldier charred beyond recognition. You call it ‘regrettable business’?”

“In the more than sixty years of the H.A.L.F. program, this is the first death.”

“First death? What about that attendant? And I guess all those women who gave birth to those mutants of yours and were killed to keep the secret don’t count?”

Commander Sturgis felt heat rise to her neck. She hated that her fair skin so easily signaled her feelings. “You know that no amount of money can keep someone quiet. You and I both agreed on what we had to do, so don’t put it all on me as if I’m an evil witch and you and Dr. Randall are blameless.”

“Don’t start with feminist crap or revisionist history. That decision was yours and mine. Leave Randall out of it. But that’s old history. Let’s stick to our current mess.” Bardsley’s jaw tensed and his eyes narrowed. “Have you recovered the runaway hybrid?”

Commander Sturgis shifted in her seat, looked down at the empty desk in front of her, and returned her gaze to the general. “Not yet.”

Bardsley hit the desk in front of him with his meaty closed fist. “Dammit, Lilly, what have your people been doing all night? You’ve got to get that mutant freak back into his cage before more people see him.”

Sturgis pushed her chair back in an attempt to put more distance between herself and the general.

“We have attempted two recoveries. But there’s a silver lining in this cloud, Frank. His escape has given us the first truly thorough test of his capabilities. And what a successful test it has been.”

“Silver lining? Do you hear yourself? A man is dead because your teenaged mutant had an itch.” General Bardsley leaned forward, bringing his imposing body to within a few feet of Sturgis. His brow furrowed and his voice boomed at her. “Lopez was a decorated ex-marine. And the freak is still out there running amok. I’d hardly call it a success.”

Commander Sturgis let out a loud breath and set her jaw. “To win any war, unwelcome sacrifices must be made.” Commander Lilly Sturgis knew about sacrifice for a cause. She had foregone having a family so that she could devote herself wholly to the H.A.L.F. project.

“But that’s just it. We’re not at war. At least not the war you’re talking about.”

“Not yet.”

“There’s no alien war, Lilly. There isn’t going to be an alien war.”

Commander Sturgis’ throat went dry. General Bardsley’s words were like a punch to her gut. “What are you saying? Of course it’s coming. It’s what we’ve been planning for. What I’ve worked for. What I’ve sacrificed for.”

“It’s what
you’ve
been planning for.”

“Why do you keep turning this all back on me? I wasn’t the one who came up with the H.A.L.F. program. And that’s what it’s all about. Creating the H.A.L.F.s so we have a secret weapon. Some kind of defense.”

Sturgis felt like a tsunami was barreling toward her and she was about to drown. A wave of panic rose in her. She tried desperately to push it down. She had been sure Bardsley was her ally – that he’d have her back. But as their conversation progressed, she was feeling more and more certain that he was pushing her in front of a bus.

“Sixty-plus years, billions upon billions. Chasing our tails after a paranoid delusion brought on during the Cold War. And all we have to show for it is your two teenage mutant hybrids,” said General Bardsley.

Sturgis rose and walked to her bookshelf. She picked up a small spray bottle and misted a dusky purple orchid craning toward a single grow light clipped to the side of the case. She misted the mossy green bed surrounding the orchid. “They’re not mutants.”

“Whatever.” General Bardsley waved his hand in the air. “Ten women dead, Lilly. Now I’ve got a dead soldier to deal with. The cost of this thing is too high. The benefit too low.”

Bile rose in her gullet and she was near to letting loose what little was left in her stomach. She took a deep breath before turning back to the general. General Bardsley sat as still as stone and stared evenly at Commander Sturgis.

“You don’t mean …?”

“We’re shutting it down.”

Commander Sturgis walked back to her chair on shaky legs. She practically fell into her seat.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know you’ve poured your heart and soul into this thing. And we’ll use your two successes to start up again where that old remote viewing project left off. They’ll take it to a whole new level. Those slimy terrorists won’t know what hit ’em when we show up with your little mut … I mean hybrids, and we wipe out a whole cell without firing a shot. We’ll finally put an end to the war on terror. Unless your little green men –”

“Actually, they’re more grey.”

“Green, grey. Unless a mother ship arrives tomorrow and blows up the Whitehouse, my orders are to shut A.H.D.N.A. down.”

Commander Sturgis was never at a loss for words. And she could not recall the last time she had thrown up. But as she listened to General Bardsley tell her that she would be cut off from her life’s work, she found she was both robbed of speech and frightfully close to puking on the general.

After a few moments of awkward silence, General Bardsley cleared his throat. “I know this comes as a shock. I should have given you more of a heads-up on this.”

“How long have you known?”

“Oh, the inner circle has been batting it around for almost a decade.”

Bardsley’s revelation made Sturgis’ head swim. She had to fight off the feeling she may pass out.

“You can’t really expect them to keep pouring money into a project with no returns.”

“But I’ve produced. Not only on the H.A.L.F. side but on the A.H.D.N.A. side as well. I’ve written published papers under my ghost identity, broadening the research on genetics. The advances in our understanding of genetics … well, if it weren’t for our research down here –”

“No one’s saying you haven’t done an amazing job. And you’ll continue your work. But you’ll come back up to the real world, not slave away in a glorified cave. It’s time you come out in the open and stop preparing for a pretend war.”

“Oh, and I suppose I imagined the crash in ’47? Or the dead extraterrestrials we’ve got preserved in jars.”

Bardsley did not offer a denial.

“So despite the crashed ship that we’ve reverse engineered in Nevada; the alien bodies whose DNA Dr. Randall and I have been using to create an entirely new, hybrid species; and despite the statements made by the survivor of the crash while under interrogation – the revelation of the coming war – despite all of that, it’s going to be swept under the rug?”

“All that happened during the Cold War. The entire nation was paranoid. Red hysteria.”

“What about now? Are we paranoid now? The increase in abductions, the UFO sightings? We both know the real reason they shut down Project Blue Book was because they had too many legitimate sightings, not too few.”

General Bardsley shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He opened his jacket and pulled a cigar out of his inside breast pocket. He patted his outside pockets. “Hell’s bells, I forgot my lighter. I don’t suppose you’ve got a light?”

Commander Sturgis opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a silver lighter decorated with finely etched filigree. “This is a nonsmoking facility.” She handed the lighter to the general.

“So give me a ticket.” He lit his cigar, took a puff and inspected the lighter. “Nice lighter. Old. They don’t make ’em like that anymore.” He handed back the lighter.

“It was my father’s,” she said. She replaced the lighter and gently closed the desk drawer. “He smoked cigars too. It’s what killed him.”

General Bardsley looked down at his cigar and slid back further into his chair. But he made no move to put out the smoke. “Ah, dammit all to hell. You deserve the truth.”