Toxic (29 page)

The two soldiers that accompanied him came up to him.

“How did they escape without the drones spotting them?” one of them asked.

The humans had fled, leaving behind two females. By questioning them, they would surely end up with answers. In reality, the question wasn’t really that important. There was only one way to hide from the electronic eyes operating in the sky.

“How deep is it?”

A trooper leaned over the guardrail. An oval object was ejected from the casing on his forearm.

“A little less than a demi-octare,” the mercenary specified after a few moments.

Almost the equivalent of two floors, Naakrit guessed. A movement in his peripheral vision drew his sharp glance. He stayed still. The infected were infiltrating all parts of the ship now. Seeing them appear here didn’t really surprise him. The soldiers got into position, forming a barrier in front of their boss. They pointed their impulsion weapons in the direction of the threat. One of them proposed a volley of fire.

“Too dangerous. We risk piercing the hull. I’ll take care of it,” Naakrit suddenly declared.

Naakrit noted the hesitant attitude of his soldiers, who exchanged a surprised whistle.

“I also need to let off steam.”

The Primark tensed his grip on the handle of the Trystel saw. The soldiers moved away. He moved forward to face the creatures, which were limping in his direction. In response to the litany of grunts, he activated the device, which let out a buzzing noise. The blade started to vibrate and then to shine. Very quickly, the end of the beveled edge became white and the reptilian lowered the visor of his integral helmet. The indifferent infected continued their chaotic march without ceasing to whine or grunt. All of their smashed mouths resembled each other, sporting infected scars or gaping wounds. The mouths vomited blood. Their eyes became lively at the sole desire to feed on living flesh, whether human or not. The source of the protein didn’t seem to be important.

He had planned to carry out the operation of his life when he acquired the holding. Now look what he was stuck with: spoiled merchandise on a lost planet. His luck was running out.

“Na’ak, art kyll mund,” he yelled, brandishing his weapon.

His bony lips spread, revealing his fangs. The butchering movement of his blade cut down the first row of emaciated corpses with a clean diagonal. Those on the right lost their heads. On the other end of the path of the blade, the infected fell,lacking the support of their legs. Their blood exploded, literally evaporated by the intense heat of the saw. A cloud of red particles quickly enveloped Naakrit, whose arm was making ample twirls. With each swipe, he projected shreds of cauterized entrails. The gurgle of the trampled flesh wasn’t long in droning out the more and more sparse wheezing noises. The massacre continued until the last creature passed under the blade of light. A sickening aroma emanated from the shapeless mass.

When he stopped for lack of enemies to massacre, Naakrit returned to his subordinates.

“Reprogram the drones to search for an underwater vessel,” he ordered. “Enlarge the perimeter to include the coast if you have to.”

“We won’t have their support if we send them so far,” one of the troopers remarked.

“It doesn’t matter. We’re not risking anything here anyway.”

The Primark activated his repulsors and went back to the platform deck.

Jave placed his hand on the cover.

On the other side of the cold glass, a body floated in a greenish liquid. The chlorophyll colored halo reminded him of the pale atmosphere of his home planet. The individual – a woman with short hair – wasn’t moving. She sported a deathly pale face, her skin almost white. He spent a moment watching her translucent, expressionless gaze. Life had deserted these glazed and lifeless eyes. Wounds ran along her fragile nudity as a testimony to the cause of her death. The torn flesh of her sides and her violet bruises crudely exposed the violence of her final moments.

The laboratory contained several sarcophagi of a more developed model than that of the Siberian complex or the prototype at the Saharan complex. Cylinders beside them displayed arms or legs, torsos and sometimes entire infected creatures at various stages of the disease that was eating at them from within. Did these materials come from a workshop or a factory hidden somewhere on the planet? The Lynian speculated on the possibility of an active production center. The idea seemed seductive to him, though in practice it conflicted with reality: the local civilization no longer existed. The line production of sarcophagi definitely dated to before the invasion.

He went along the shelves and the benches where bunches of tubes and recipients were grouped. The Lynian paused at a sort of mechanical calculator. The instrument, of pre-technological manufacture, summarized in itself the desolation and regression which he saw around him. The device also revealed that the humans were adapting to the new reality, a world without electronics or technology. They experimented, searching for a way to avoid the demise of their species, like the boy caught in the trap in the middle of the forest, who he had saved from certain death. On the edge of extinction, they kept on working and waiting. That was an encouraging sign.

The arrival of the Primark interrupted his exploration.

The reptilian had taken off his armor. His features were spattered with blood stains, the emissary noted. The mercenary stepped into the laboratory before stopping in front of the first sarcophagus, which was occupied by an infected creature. Jave was on the lookout for his reaction. Naakrit kept silent, although he closed his claws against his scaly palms.

Each cylinder and each artifact: the evidence was a testimony to the humans’ desire to develop a cure. The degree of preparation implied long-term planning. Of course, it wasn’t established that they had developed a solution, but the Lynian had the feeling that they had been close, he told himself, inspecting a cupboard. Dozens of labeled vials sat on the shelves. He opened the glass door and grabbed one of them. The reference on a grey background said
SC741 — EMC
. He didn’t have the slightest idea what that meant. He grabbed the one beside it:
SC742 — EMC
. Intrigued, he groped around in more compartments.
SC743 — EMC, SC744 — EMC...
They contained vials classified according to an order and unknown criteria. Behind him, he sensed Naakrit’s agitation while he communicated with his troops. The reptilian’s sharp whistle, clearly upset, didn’t disrupt his examination. Jave pursued what looked like a trial inventory. The containers filled the cupboard. All of a sudden, the antidote seemed far from a finished product possible to administer to the masses. He directed himself towards the top shelves.

Naakrit became animated.

“They didn’t disappear like a lizard under a rock! Find them!”

The Primark cursed the humans. All of a sudden, he picked up a heavy metal chair from its base, which flew unexpectedly across the room only to end its course in the piece of furniture thatJave was inspecting. The Lynian just barely dodged the improvised projectile, which broke the shelves. When he reopened his claws, he deciphered the writing on the vial that he had just saved from the disaster:
SD966 — NT
.

NT
, he re-read. The sticker was blue, the only one of the lot to have a two letter sequence and a different color.

“Do you really think we’re going to find an antidote on this wreck?” Naakrit raged.

“I’ve never confirmed it, but according to the evidence, the experiments that took place here attest to...”

“Njet, krek’tu!” the Primark yelled, cutting him off. “They wouldn’t have been able do anything worthy of calling research in these ruined facilities. And the humans,
my humans
, have fled!”

He left the laboratory, pushing the table away from in front of him. Jave once again looked at the surviving vial and then slid it into one of the pockets of his suit.

The mercenary who had captured the two healthy units came to give his report shortly afterwards. He had taken off his armor outside and was dragging his prisoners as if they were vulgar puppets or prey tied to his belt. Jave recognized the woman. Looking for his superior, the trooper hesitated and then decided to get back on his way.

“Wait,” the emissary yelled to him. “The Primark had to leave for a moment.”

Backing up his words with a gesture, he pointed to the nearest table. “Lay them down there. I’ll watch over them until he comes back. In their state, they don’t constitute a threat or a security problem.”

The servile soldier obeyed. He submitted to Naakrit’s orders to satisfy the requests of the Combinate envoy. He left them roughly on the aluminum table. Jave kept his distance.

“Stunned by sonics. They’re unconscious,” the mercenary specified as he slipped away.

Jave observed the two outstretched bodies. The plan didn’t crystalize in his mind immediately. He stayed still. The women didn’t move. They seemed to be asleep. Peaceful. The Primark had reserved a fate that was not to be envied for them, the common fate of a number of life forms in the three galaxies that were used as food for more evolved species. The pyramid principle implied a base and a tip, the first being a feast for the other. When a species realized that it no longer dominated the food chain, it went back to its instincts and its will to survive. Often, this wasn’t enough. Predators regularly conquered their prey, proud to bring home their bounty. The search for allies constituted a healthy strategy for victims.

They Lynian walked towards the back of the laboratory. Cans were lined up along the wall. After opening them, he sniffed several of them. He left those of them that weren’t of interest. One after another, he smelled once again the tins, which he had just placed on a bench. Once the formula was clear in his mind, he found a bowl into which he poured the quantities needed for the desired effect. The composition seemed correct. The only thing he was missing was a powerful energy source. Jave detached a thermal detonator from his belt. He hesitated: the mercenaries marked their materials with trackers to avoid having them fall into enemy hands. After reflecting, he started to remove the tracker and then reprogrammed the weapon before submerging it. The homemade bomb would blow up several floors of the facilities, he guessed, satisfied.

The Lynian came back towards the aluminum table, undecided on what to do about the fate of the prisoners. Either he could save them or he could preserve potential critical evidence. Even though his talent enticed him to give knowledge precedence, he could sometimes be mistaken. He had learned to not always listen to it and to keep it under control.

Carefully, he picked up the two women, who he swung over his shoulders. Then he stepped over the hatch, making sure he didn’t hurt them or bang them. Moving around burdened like this in the narrow passages revealed itself to be frustrating. He got to the far end of the passage, not without difficulty and the need to contort himself, and turned to the right, moving along like a crab. Pipes and beams were significant obstacles in his path. He put down the humans on the floor near a hatch that led to outside. His vibroblade slid into his hand. With a confident gesture, he cut through the metal hull. The rectangle with its red borders swayed in the open, revealing a square opening giving way to a sea of oil. The sea breeze rushed inside. Jave adjusted his carbon dioxide flow as a result. He found a buoy attached to the wall along with life jackets. Would that be enough?

The woman that he had already saved was protecting the human that had escaped from the horde and from death. She had gotten down from the fence for him when she could have fled. She had risked her own existence. No creature behaved in such an extreme way for no reason. Even if he didn’t know why, this individual played a part and he trusted this female who had displayed proof of respectable courage.

The explosion rattled the ship right when he decided to hurry. He harnessed the women and then pushed them into the water. The Primark had sent drones to hunt underwater. They weren’t at all at risk.

He also threw in the detonator’s tracker. Next was the more delicate part. Jave took a breath before lighting his own suit on fire and then climbed up the ladder with large steps. When he appeared on the bridge, his arms raised and on fire, two mercenaries ran immediately to his aid. They covered him copiously with a sort of sticky foam. He fell and turned on to his back. The sky spotted with stars was replaced by the rigid features of a helmet.

Naakrit raised his visor. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. I was getting ready to leave when everything exploded.”

The Primark whistled in anger.

The platform was starting to incline, Jave remarked, as he tried to get back on his legs. The foam made the floor as slippery as an ice rink.

The reptilian addressed his lieutenant. “Maybe they were able to booby trap the ship. Double your precautions and be ready to evacuate. I don’t want anybody inside anymore.”

He questioned the emissary once again.

“Where are the two females?”

“Delivered to the wrong place. It’s my fault. I told the soldier to leave them on the table at the laboratory entrance.”

Naakrit whistled once again. His next decision was not a surprise. He ordered them to leave the ship, which was tilting more and more.

“And the humans?” Kjet inquired.

“As far as I’m concerned, they’re dead. I’ve got to capture one hundred thousand to honor the Kuat cartel’s contract. The Nairobi operation remains our only priority at the moment. I don’t want any more distractions.”