Toxic (67 page)

“You did a trace analysis, I assume.”

“The plant residues come from Siberia. We also estimated the date of the crash, around a dozen octans ago, maybe a little more. Whatever happened, it happened well before the invasion and even before the epidemic hit the planet.”

The reptilian officer climbed up the scaffolding that went around the front and his claws touched the metal of the hull, made up of many layers of composites.

“How many were on board?”

“This type of model holds up to four passengers,” Kuhn responded. “The water washed away the traces of occupants, which complicates the search for evidence. Also, without the ability to carry out beyond-frame impulsions and with quite a small action radius...”

“That means that it was brought close to earth by a transporter,” Kjet cut him off.

For a secret which was supposed to be well-protected, more and more people were revealing to be in possession of Earth’s coordinates. Jave understood the Primark’s precautions. He kept from sharing his impressions.

“What did the onboard systems reveal?” Kuhn’s superior asked.

“They were sabotaged. The technician is trying to restore a part of the information, but the chances are small. They didn’t leave anything up to chance.”

Kjet went back down the ladder and headed back to Jave’s side.

“Did you see what you wanted to?”

“I think so.”

“So, we’re going to take our guests back to HQ.”

Naakrit welcomed them upon their arrival at the summit of the tower. The sky had gone back to its electric blue color and the storm was no longer anything but a light breeze from the desert. The GenoSarans gave their thanks to the Primark, who had a parting gift for them. Jave and Kjet were invited to the foot of the HQ tower for a small ceremony whose commercial aim didn’t escape any of the attendees. A mini-dome had been put up on the syntho-concrete square.

“It’s just a sample,” the head mercenary presented, under the gaze of his clients, who hid their surprise. Nonetheless, Delko’s fluid voice raised to a high pitch.

“We are honored by such attention. Your reputation is truly deserved.”

The Lynian observed the maneuver of a surface drone positioning a container beside the ethereal wall.

“You must be thinking, Engineer Delko, that I’m hoping to convince your decision-makers for the provision of five thousand perfectly healthy and living units for your parks.”

“We will probably need more. After what I’ve just seen, I’m thinking about rebuilding an entire city.”

“Hmm... Understand that transporting living humans has a much higher cost.”

“It goes without saying,” the GenoSaran bowed.

A hiss interrupted the dialogue. The containment field shimmered and then covered the container’s airlock. The walls became transparent, revealing around one hundred units. The sample was made up of individuals with both clear skin and dark skin as well as long hair and short hair of different colors. Jave counted as many females as males as well as children, very rare products.

The Primark handed an information chip to Delko.

“I’ve taken the initiative to prepare a commercial proposal. Consortiums are showing interest in humans, so understand well that my offer of exclusivity is limited in time.”

The emissary appreciated the reptilian’s gesture, at the peak of the negotiating art which he was putting to use here, that of pressure on his clients at the moment of presenting his gift. Clever, he thought.

The dome contracted slowly, pushing captives towards the airlock which soon wouldn’t have an option other than to take their place inside the container. The Lynian felt the vibration transmitted by his rootlets. He excused himself from the Primark and GenoSarans. Kjet kept him in his view until he disappeared in the elevator tube.

Once he was in his quarters, he took the relay out of his suit’s pocket. The device lit up and turned orange.

“I found the radio and the computer,” he heard.

The human’s voice was raised and high-pitched, a little like that of the GenoSarans. Jave took the time to prepare his response. Now that he had confirmation, it was wise to act with caution. He wanted the radio intact and uncompromised, to communicate with what remained of the local organization.

“I’ve filled my part of the bargain, do you hear? Fuck, does this thing even work?”

She had even accomplished it in record time.

“I’m listening to you,” Jave announced.

“About time! I’ve been trying to reach you for minutes!”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t always respond right away. Do you have the radio?”

“Yes, and I think that it works. There’s also a computer,” Elaine specified.

On his flexible screen, Jave called up a video flow. The image of the Squil working on one of the seized devices took up the shimmering surface.

“There’s a button on the handle of the machine, on the right.”

“On and off, to turn it on. I’m not an idiot. There it is; it’s working.”

The sequence lasted less than an octain of seconds.

“My God...” the translation apparatus relayed.

“What do you see?”

“A world map... with lit up points, numbers, which look like coordinates. I’ve found my position, in the north of the Gulf of Mexico, there is a circled A and...”

An A, Jave reacted, losing the thread. “Site A!”

“
Knaj ishou navvit njet pa’a
”, he said. By chance or destiny, there sometimes didn’t exist a direct solution, only torturous paths.

A muffled thump, a dry cracking noise and the sound of voices brought him out of his thoughts.

“Don’t touch anything! Put down the keyboard of that computer or I’ll kill you!”

The Lynian refrained from intervening. Whatever he could have said at that moment, he would have just made Elaine’s situation worse.

Site A... The human was at Site A.

B
efore its transformation, this creature had been a person, a child of the Lord, the Reverend told himself. The infected man stumbled around, his head leaning to the side, and put on a disfigured joker smile from which a black slime dripped out. The unbearable smell stung his nose. The two men maneuvered the zombie with the help of a leash around its waist and second one around its neck. Just in front of it and walking backwards, Dan was drawing it towards him. The quartet led the thing to beside a wooden structure, an assembly of beams with four wheels and a basket at the far and of a flexible axle maintained in a lowered position by a braided cord.

The hard part of the operation was keeping the L-D on the catapult until the throw. It was moving incessantly and the proximity of fresh flesh didn’t help at all. The Reverend put his hood back up and crossed his arms in the sleeves. His lieutenant had found an elegant solution to the problem of crossing the pit and fence.

With a firm hand on the chest of the monster, he impaled it on the metal stake that stuck out in the center of the basket. That way, the creature would stay in place. The acceleration power would be enough to throw it a good distance. The test turned out conclusive. Dan cut the cord with the help of a knife. Made of a group of fibers, the brutally released spring transmitted its force to the lever arm. The latter banged into the crosspiece. The ejected zombie found itself in the air, following a parabolic trajectory.

The Reverend followed its course until its impact in an area covered with tall grass similar to the one surrounding the property they were going to attack. They waited and then the infected creature got up and stumbled straight ahead.

“Good,” Dan declared. “Just a little fine-tuning left, and I think that we can have a little fun. The bombardment will start shortly and we’ll have front row seats to the spectacle.”

The spiritual leader bowed his head.

“Send infected corpses over a wall. The good old methods are still the best.”

“Yeah, we’ve even improved the system; back then, the corpses didn’t get back up.”

The two subordinates laughed at once.

“Umm... Let’s call that a tactical advantage.”

The men headed back to the stockyard. The living dead were pressing against the fence, maybe in their desire to test that strange device from the Dark Ages.

Elaine was tied to the chair, in the middle of a windowless room, for so long that she had lost the notion of time. The stifling heat transformed her into a wet mop. When the rush of light suddenly sprung in from the door, the pain was the same as that of her swollen lip. The whack from the butt of the gun was still resounding in her head. She tried to turn away from the light and squinted. A vague shadow formed in front of her. She recognized the voice, that of the boss of the oil workers. The icy water that another individual threw on her with a bucket woke her up with a start. The décor became clear. The nurse recovered a portion of her lucidity.

Someone pushed a table and then her interlocutor approached a chair. He sat down.

“You were communicating with someone when we caught you. Who was it?”

The bonds bit at her flesh and the suffering bore into her mind. She begged for something to drink. A plastic bottle appeared in front of her, as if by magic.

“You’ll have some when we have answers.”

Her intimate conviction commanded her to keep silent. If she talked, she would end up at the bottom of the gulf. Nobody, not even the alien, could do anything about that. Richardson didn’t get angry, she noticed. He expressed himself with a calm voice, repeating his questions. From her brief and recent experience, this type of situation could often turn to violence. She expected him to hit her. Mentally, she was prepared for it and imagined that the first blow would come without warning. It always hurt, in one way or another. But the boss didn’t do anything.

Instead, one of the guards, obeying the gestures of his boss, detached her, helped her get up and brought her outside. She enjoyed each breath of fresh air. The sun had almost disappeared under the horizon and the sky was the color of twilight. Two beefy guys guided her through a maze of hallways until she found herself facing the ocean.

A group of four joined them. Among them, Elaine spotted a familiar silhouette that she hadn’t expected to see here. Her eyes opened wide. The man greeted her.

“
¡Hola chica!
”

Richardson stepped between them. “You know each other well, it seems?”

He raised his gun and pointed it at the Colombian’s temple.

“Either you respond to my questions or I kill him. I thought I understood that you saved his life. It would be too bad if we had to go to such an extreme.”

“Hector, what the fuck are you...”

“You can talk later,” the boss cut her off, “if you answer me.”

He pushed the barrel of his pistol against the skin of the Latino, who clenched his jaw.

“We don’t have all day!”

Elaine hesitated. What if they had captured the entire group? He would kill the trafficker, and afterwards if would be Dewei’s turn, then Alison’s. She couldn’t stand it.

“Well then, because you insist.”

Hector closed his eyes and his lips quivered.

“No! I’m going to tell you everything. Don’t hurt him.”

They spent a part of the night listening to Elaine’s story, from her first encounter of the third kind in a garden in the Bahamas up until the dramatic attack on the camp.

Keeping up a good shooting pace was a feat in its own right.

They had to attract a zombie to isolate it from the horde and then extract it from the enclosure, grab it and then guide it towards the artillery apparatus, where they placed it on the spoon. Dan then cut down with the blade with an agile movement and the living dead projectile disappeared immediately into the nighttime sky. According to his calculations, they could throw more than a hundred creatures inside the property. They fell into the high grass, which greatly softened the fall. The dead could withstand heavy blows and broken bones better than any living being. They didn’t feel anything. The important thing was that they could grunt, scare and bite. Their reserve held around four hundred, a sufficient number of munitions.

When the Reverend shared his observations, Dan explained himself clearly.

“We’ll leave them near the bridge; that will add a stress factor. They think they’re safe. I think they’re going to have a harsh wake up call.”

The Moon provided them with enough light to view the landing zone of the infected. The surroundings offered perfect shooting posts. They had chosen an ideal spot, protected by a hedge barely one hundred meters from the pit. A sign of the Lord’s goodwill, the Reverend had affirmed, baptizing the machine Joseph because he was a carpenter. That had seemed appropriate to him. Dan hadn’t hid his pleasure at that choice.

The religious leader reported the result of the tosses by following them with the binoculars. The corpse had rolled in the vegetation and the gotten up, its right arm hanging, which put its walk off-balance. In the early morning, their enemies would find themselves with infected in the middle of their garden. The Reverend smiled at the idea.

“Where are the others?” Elaine pleaded.