Chapter Thirty-Seven
New Terms
As much as I have come to sympathize with Ella Patel, she is still just a human and a vessel. I have a higher purpose calling me, which is to fulfill my destiny. It is always a delicate balance when dealing with this primitive species.
The desires of the vessel, if not in the right mindset, can be unwieldy. I trust that you see the wisdom of what had to be done, and why certain decisions had to be made.
Ella woke to a blinding headache. A voice called her name over and over again, and something was rocking her back and forth. Everything was so dark. That was when she realized her eyes were closed. She stirred and groaned.
“Ella, you awake? Your Quasing is back to her old ways.”
That voice sounded familiar. She was about to reply when Io began to catch her up on what had happened since she was out, cluttering her mind with a barrage of words.
Listen Ella. A lot has happened. I am trying to play both sides to ensure our survival. The Genjix were winning, so I worked out an arrangement with Shura. Now it seems the Prophus are winning. The problem is, Roen overheard me talking to Shura. If they win, which it looks like they now might, you need to convince him that I was just playing along to survive.
“Wait, what? You’re talking too fast. You’re hurting my brain.” Io’s million words a minute sounded like someone was gurgling water between her ears.
No matter what, we have to be on the side of the winner. I am doing everything I can to keep us alive. You just have to follow my lead. The situation is extremely fluid right now. I am no longer sure who will come out of this victorious.
“Shut up for a second. By Krishna, my head feels like a crushed melon.”
Ella squinted. Roen Tan was standing next to her, and had a gun pointed at Shura, who was standing off to the side. It looked to Ella like the Prophus were winning. That was a good thing, right? They were the only people who so far had not tried to kidnap her. Roen was saying something. Ella tuned in on the sounds escaping his mouth.
“Welcome back to the land of the living. As I was saying–”
Shura did this thing Adonis vessels did that made people stop and stare in the middle of a fight. She pounced on Roen like a snake, moving so quickly Ella could have missed it.
Roen managed to squeeze off a shot, but Shura avoided it with ease as she closed in. One karate chop sent the gun spinning out of his hand. It was followed by a breathtaking sidekick that sent the old guy crashing into the inner wall of the transport. Roen slammed into the metal wall with a thunk like a gong, then slid to the ground. He coughed, spewing a small spray of blood.
Shura looked at Ella as she stalked toward Roen’s broken body. “Are you the Holy One or the girl?”
Ella, still frazzled and now a little in awe, barely managed to mutter, “the girl.”
“Good. As soon as I kill him, we depart.”
A blade slid out of its sheath with a hiss and appeared in the Adonis vessel’s hand. She knelt in front of Roen and waved it in front of his face, carving the air as if a predator toying with its prey. “Killing you will do little for my standing. However, you were once a worthy opponent, Roen Tan, and as you surely know, the Holy Ones hold long grudges. The Council, Zoras especially, will be pleased to hear that you died by Genjix hands.”
OK, so things are fine again. As long as you play along, we should be in the clear. Just follow Shura’s lead, and we will both live through this night.
That didn’t sound right. Ella’s fingers itched to do something. Both Shura and Roen were within arm’s reach. She grasped for her big dagger, which of course was not there. She looked around for a weapon – any weapon – to help the old man. Her hand crept toward a knife holstered on the thigh of the corpse of the asshole magazine cover model guy.
Listen closely, Ella, do nothing. You cannot help Roen Tan. You owe him nothing. Let Shura take his life.
Ella didn’t like the sound of that one bit, but it wasn’t like there was anything she could do to help Roen. She knew enough about Adonis vessels to know that trying to take one on was guaranteed suicide. Still, the idea of doing nothing while Shura killed Cameron’s dad didn’t sit well with her. She pulled the knife out of Rurik’s sheath and stood up.
If you try to help Roen, she will kill you. Let this play out.
“Why should we do anything for the Genjix, anyway? We should be helping the Prophus. It was the Genjix that tried to kidnap us. What arrangement did you make with them? Why do they want me?”
They do not want you. They want me. The Genjix need my skills as a Receiver. We can use that as a bargaining chip. I can keep us both alive this way.
There was a tone in the way she spoke that raised Ella’s hackles. The Quasing was hiding something. Io was trying to mask it, but it sounded – Ella couldn’t quite put her finger on it – as if she was sincere.
What is wrong with being sincere? I thought we agreed to work together as a team. That we should be forthcoming and honest with each other from this point on.
Shura turned to her and stared, amused, as if daring Ella to make a move. When she didn’t, the woman shrugged. “Find a gun. It may be several hours before I can secure extraction.”
She put a hand on Roen’s throat and touched the point of her blade on his neck. Roen futilely grabbed her wrist and tried to bat her arm away, writhing in her grasp like a fish flopping out of water. The Adonis vessel easily held him in place. Irritated, Shura bopped him on top of the head as if he were a child. “Stop it. Die with some dignity.”
A flash streaked by. Shura was suddenly skidding across the ramp, tumbling head over heels. They landed near the bottom of the ramp with Shura pinned to the ground. They struggled, the man on top pried the knife out of her hands, and then she knocked him off her. The two stood and circled each other.
Ella’s heart sang: Nabin was here!
Nabin, looking stone-faced and scary (and hot), feinted and attacked the Adonis vessel, charging like a rabid animal. He forced Shura backward even as she snapped his head back with an elbow, then doubled him over with a knee. He continued to smother her with his big hairy hands, lifting her off the ground and crushing her into the wall. It was a brutal, ugly dance, with their bodies pressed close as in a lover’s embrace.
The fight continued, but it was painful to watch. Nabin fought valiantly, but as the seconds passed it was obvious he was getting the worse end of the melee. In a few more seconds, he would succumb to her continued beating.
Ella balled her hands into fists. She pulled out her knife and stalked the two, looking for an opening to plunge the thing straight into that bitch’s heart. Or back, or thigh, or anywhere really.
Ella, no. The smart thing to do is let things play out.
“Shut up, Alien.”
What if–
“I’m through listening to you, Io.”
The opening came when Nabin, noticeably slowing and trying to not take any more damage, charged to smother Shura once more. She reversed his desperate attack and ended up pinning him to the wall with her elbow on his neck.
Shura’s back was completely exposed. Ella wielded the blade in her hand and readied to charge. Before she could take two steps, another man and woman appeared. They jumped on top of Shura, striking her from behind. They each locked one of the Adonis vessel’s arms in place and dragged her off Nabin.
Nabin collapsed to the ground, and then Ella was there, wrapping her arms around him and holding him up. “Are you OK, darling?” she asked, stroking his face.
He blinked and broke into a bloody grin. “So that’s what it takes to get a hug. Just another woman beating me senseless.”
“You stupid, stupid man,” she growled, squeezing him tighter.
“I… I thought you were gone forever,” he said, in between heaving breaths.
“You can’t dump me that easily.”
“I dumped you?” he gasped, indignant.
“Excuse me,” said the woman. “A little help?”
She and the man were still holding onto Shura, but barely. The Adonis vessel was obviously drained from her fight with Nabin, but she was still putting a beating on the two. It took all of the Prophus agents there to finally subdue her. Once she realized that she was captured, a calm passed over Shura, and she became quiet, almost docile. Upon closer inspection, Shura’s face was its own mass of purple bruises and cuts.
She is conserving energy. Listen, Ella. It appears the Prophus once again have the upper hand. We just need to play it cool and things will be fine. Do you understand?
“I hate you, Io.”
“Where’s Josie?” asked the man.
“I left her guarding the cockpit. She’s in pretty bad shape,” said Roen. He still hadn’t moved from where Shura had dropped him. Ella had forgotten all about the old guy. He struggled to his feet and called into the transport. “Hey Josie, are you still alive?”
“I will not let you outlive me, asshole,” replied a weak voice.
“Good to hear.” Roen waved. He turned to the others. “Did we win?”
“The police got reinforcements and have regained control of the facility. The yakuza appear to be retreating,” said the man holding Shura by the arm. “What do we do about the Adonis vessel?”
Nabin got to his feet and picked up a rifle. He aimed it between her eyes. The Adonis vessel stared back defiantly.
“Don’t shoot her,” barked Roen. “Unless any of you are interested in becoming a Genjix host. Does anyone have a flamethrower? If you do, then by all means blow her head off. Anyone?”
Everyone shook their head.
“Drat,” snarled Roen. “My kingdom for a flamethrower. I guess we’ll have to–”
A gunshot cracked, and then the group found themselves surrounded by half a dozen figures, each with a gun trained on them. It was the surviving yakuza.
A young tattooed woman stepped forward. “Hands up. Drop your weapons.”
At the same time, Shura, who had fallen into a relaxed, almost meditative state, came alive. She broke free from both her captors’ grasps, tripping the woman, and then got behind the man with her arm squeezed around his neck.
Within an instant, the tables were turned.
Again.
Then Ella noticed Nabin. The pistol had tumbled from his hand. He clutched at his neck as a stream of blood leaked out from between his fingers and down his forearms, then he crumpled to his knees and onto his side. She screamed and fell to the ground alongside him, clutching his head as he stared blankly into the sky.The cries that escaped out of Ella’s lips tore through the air. Loud, wracking sobs spasmed her body. It was an ugly cry, her grief pure and agonizing, cutting deep into her being.
She cradled his head in her lap and stroked his hair. The sounds of the violence all around her faded, like the wind whistling overhead or the insects chirping in the distance. None of it mattered. Not any more.
Ella could count on one hand the living beings she had ever loved, truly loved, and now she did not need to count any longer. Everyone she had ever cared for was gone. Her mother, her dog, her home, the love of her life. And it was all because of her. She was the cause.
She caressed his face, feeling the stubble on his chin. She hated its prickliness. It was like kissing sandpaper, she often complained. She wrapped his curly hair around her finger. His knotty wiry hair, oily as always. Ella looked into his blank stare, and had to look away. His eyes used to be so full of life, mischievous and bright, his smile ready to pull into a grin. They were all gone now. Ella brushed her hands over his face and closed his eyes for the last time.
Ella, listen to me. I feel your loss. May Nabin find peace in the Eternal Sea, but you have to snap out of this. We are still in real danger. Shura believes you ally with the Prophus. She will kill you.
“I don’t care.”
Grieve later. You are needed right now.
“I DO NOT CARE, ALIEN. TO HELL WITH EVERYONE!”
People are going to die, Ella. Is that what you want? What would Nabin want?
That pulled her back from her grief. She looked around and saw Shura next to the young yakuza woman who appeared to be in charge. The yakuza were rounding up Roen and his friends, and lining them up inside the plane. A firing squad. Ella had seen those in her early days in Crate Town.
Listen to me. If you love Nabin, do this for him. If you want to honor his memory, then do something.
Ella raged internally even as she shed her grief outwardly. “Why Io? Why do you care what happens?” Then it hit her. “You want to go! You want to join the Genjix.”
No, Ella. That is not true. I admit my greatest desire is to fulfill my destiny and continue my work as a Receiver. To do what I was bred to do. I have always made that intention clear. But not like this. You are also my host, and I do not wish to see you harmed or killed. I also admit I do not relish being transferred to a Genjix fanatic.
“They killed Nabin. I can never be with the Genjix.”
Let us reach a compromise then.
Io made her case. Ella shook her head, not liking what she heard, but she realized what few options she had. Ella had had to learn at a young age how to survive. She often had to do whatever it took to make sure she would live to see the next sunrise. Sometimes it meant eating rotten fruit or stealing from good people. Other times it meant hurting innocents. These were all sins she knew were wrong, actions that grated against her character, but survival was a cruel teacher who offered little sympathy or the luxury of deciding what was right or wrong. This was one of those times.
Ella stood up. “Stop,” she commanded stridently, in a loud strong voice she did not know she possessed. The yakuza, who were lining up to finish off the Prophus, did as she ordered. All eyes turned to her, even Shura’s. Ella crossed her arms. “Shura, you and I have an agreement. I want to fulfill Io’s destiny and aid the Genjix. I will go with you willingly and Io will help you, but we need a token of goodwill.” She pointed at the Prophus. “Let them go.”
Shura studied her, shrugged and turned away. “No.”
“Let them go or you will never get my cooperation.”
“I’ll just kill you and Io will find another vessel, one less belligerent.”
“These are Io’s wishes,” said Ella.
That gave Shura pause. “I don’t believe you. Why would Io care one way or another if the Prophus live or die?”
“Because I care, and Io wishes this. If you do not listen to her, then she knows you cannot be trusted,” said Ella, with as much conviction as she could muster. “Io and I are one, and that is the price I demanded to follow her to the Genjix, and she accepted.”
Shura walked over to Ella and looked into her eyes. Ella stared back defiantly. Both knew the bond a Quasing and their host could possess. The question was, was Shura willing to gamble on the strength of Ella’s bond with Io? Anyone who spent more than a few minutes with either Ella or Io would know that answer.
Fortunately, Shura had never bothered to take the time. “Very well,” she said finally. “It isn’t like any of these Prophus are of high value. At least, not any longer.” She signaled to the yakuza. “Tie them up and let them go. Let the police deal with them. If we’re lucky, they will finish this job.”
When they were done, Shura led Ella and the remnants of the yakuza into the mountains away from the base. As they reached the crest of the hill outside the base perimeter, Ella paused and looked back as clusters of lights swarmed around the transport. She wondered if her sacrifice was for naught.
“Come, girl,” said Shura, beckoning to her. “We have great things ahead of us.”
“Goodbye, Nabin.” Ella’s lips barely moved. The words came out hardly more than a whisper. “I’m going to see you again.” Then she nodded to Shura and followed her down the slope of the hill. They were picked up by a group of yakuza a few hours later and spirited straight to a private airport. By the next afternoon, Shura and Ella were on a plane flying over the Sea of Japan. By that evening, Ella was in the heart of Genjix country.