Timestamp: 3887
One thing that I do know, and this is irrefutable, the war will continue. The players will come and go. The names and faces will change, but there will always be a new host to take the place of fallen comrades. That’s how it has always been since the beginning, and how it always will be after we’re all dead and buried. This will continue until, as the Quasing like to say, we meet in the Eternal Sea.
All right, I think we’re done here. I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?
Enzo woke up in a stale white room. That buzzing. A fly? No, the harsh fluorescent light. A sharp white glow stung his eyes. He squeezed them shut, but the white still seeped through; he covered them with his hand and took several deep breaths. He felt some pain, a lot of discomfort, but mostly just numbness. They must have pumped a lot of drugs into him.
Everything was out of focus, from the sterile-colored walls, to the sound of chatter just outside the room, to his hazy memories. What happened? He thought he heard Zoras speak, but couldn’t quite make out the words. His Holy One’s voice sounded more like an itch on the back of his brain than a divine God channeling wisdom into his head.
Enzo closed his eyes, squeezed them tight. Slowly, the world came into focus as his senses collected themselves. The chatter outside the room coalesced into words he understood: Mandarin. The color of the walls, the distinct sterility of this particular facility, the feel of the sheets. This was the 301 Military Hospital; he was back at home in Beijing. He had cheated death, though to his shame, had not pulled victory from the jaws of defeat. It was his first, and Enzo swore, his last.
Zoras was saying something, and bit by bit, the words became clear. His Holy One was telling him to rest, not to move, to push the remote near his right hand to fetch the nurse and inject more painkillers into his bloodstream. He decided to forgo both for now until he had a better grip of his surroundings. He tried to sit up in bed, and had to stop as pain surged up his body, which changed his mind on the painkillers. He pushed the button and felt the immediate effect of the morphine coursing through his body.
Gritting his teeth, Enzo tried to sit up again. After all, he was not only an Adonis, he was the leader of the Council. He would not hold court lying in bed. He forced himself into a seated position. For the first time, he noticed the tubes sticking into his arm, his chest, his nose. He reached up to yank them out.
Leave them. Your injuries are many and severe.
“How long have I been gone? What happened?”
It has been three days since you were evacuated from the loyalty haven. Two Chinese destroyers were deployed to the Beaufort Sea and a commando team extracted all the survivors. Palos saved your life.
“His standing has been raised. I will see to it.”
Now there are other things you must attend to. The remnants of your Assembly are nearby.
“Amanda,” Enzo said, the words coming out in a slur. “Amanda. Attend me.”
His assistant popped her head in and gave a start. “Father,” she said, walking in and bowing. “We did not expect you to wake for another day or two.”
“Assemble.”
“But, Father.” She looked uneasy. “The doctors recommend rest.”
“Assemble!” he snapped.
In a few minutes, the remnants of his inner circle were gathered. The absent faces spelled out which of his brothers and sisters had fallen. Only a few of his younger siblings were here, and none of the ones he had grown up with at the Hatchery.
There were a few new faces too, not from the Assembly. What were they doing here? That girl – Mengsk’s daughter, no doubt trying to reclaim her position and ownership of her father’s wealth. Well, those funds would be needed now to rebuild Genjix operations. There was another boy next to her, Hatchery-trained by the looks of him, possibly a new vessel, given the casualties they had sustained recently. Well, he would need good people around him to recover from this mess.
He looked each person over. “We will have to grow a new Assembly. There is too much work, and I have too few I trust.” He looked over at Palos and acknowledged the grizzled vessel’s contribution to saving his life. “How are our operations in Russia?”
“Unstable, Father. The remnants of Vinnick’s operation have united and are allying themselves with the new vessels in the Federal Assembly. You left a vacuum in Russia before the situation stabilized, and they took advantage. Much of what you gained will need to be recaptured.”
“And the North American continent?”
“The IXTF is now in control of both the catalyst facility and the loyalty haven,” Amanda said, scanning her tablet. “Total casualties at the loyalty haven were eighty-seven percent. The catalyst facility…” she paused, “… fought to the last man. It was total attrition.”
“More importantly, what of the catalyst reaction rods?” he asked.
“Between the two facilities, a total of twenty tons of the catalyst reaction rods are now in Interpol’s hands.”
Twenty. Tons.
That was half of their global stock. It would take ten years before they could replenish that amount. Damn Vinnick for stealing the rods. This delay had proven so costly. The others on the Council would use this against him.
Not just the others. All the Holy Ones feel that this catastrophe could have been avoided.
“My standing is lowered. I understand. Still, time is meaningless. We can rebuild.”
There is something else. Ask Amanda to bring forth Weston.
Enzo complied, wondering who that was.
The young man at the back next to Alex came forth and fell to one knee. “Father,” he said reverently.
“Who is this boy, Zoras?”
Stand up and greet him.
“Why?”
Do as I command, vessel.
Not quite understanding the order, he pulled the tubes and needles out of his body – the ones going up his nose in particular hurt – and tried to get out of bed, except when he twisted his waist to swing his legs over the edge, they didn’t obey. Puzzled, he tried again. Nothing happened. Then he realized that he couldn’t feel his toes or feet. He poked his thigh with his fingers. There was no sensation.
“It can’t be,” he muttered, more perplexed than anything. “I don’t understand.”
It is as I feared; you are paralyzed.
Enzo looked down at the body that had failed him, and then up at the circle of people standing around the bed. It must be awkward for them to stand over him like this. Well, they had better get used to it, then. His recovery could take a long time.
“It seems my injuries are more serious than I thought,” he began. “I’ll need more staff to assist me during the physical therapy.”
No, Enzo.
“My Guardian?”
You have been a devout vessel, Enzo. However, your body betrays us. Your time is at an end. Weston is your replacement.
Enzo’s hands froze and his body stiffened as Zoras’s words sunk in. He was being replaced by a new Adonis Vessel, similarly to how he had once replaced Devin. How could that be possible? He was the leader of the Council, leader of all the Genjix. He was blessed above all others, his standing higher than any other to have ever walked on this planet. He was the one who was supposed to usher in Quasiform. This couldn’t be how it ended!
“Zoras, my Guardian. My Holy One, we are so close to completing our goals. We must see this through. A transition at this crucial moment would be disastrous.”
I am still close to achieving my goals. Your part of the journey has ended… You rarely heeded my wisdom, believing yourself an equal. It was tolerated as long as you saw success. However, the longer you walk along the edge, the higher the odds of your inevitable fall. I had warned you years ago to be careful of your place among the Genjix, Enzo. There is only one penalty for extreme failure on the Council.
“But Zoras…” Enzo found himself at a loss for words as his destiny – so assured a few days ago – was taken from under him. He felt true fear for the first time in his life – fear of failure, fear of unfulfilled fates, fear of this new reality. Mostly, he felt this new fear of dying. Throughout his life, he had thought himself not only special, but a prophet. Now, he knew the truth, and it killed him more than any physical death could.
As if given a hidden signal, Palos – the vessel with the unwavering loyalty, who had watched over him since the very first day Enzo had become a vessel – approached and fell to one knee next to Weston. He held up a tray in his hands. On it was a glass of water, a cyanide pill, and a serrated knife.
“Praise to the Holy Ones,” those in the room chanted.
“Praise to…” Enzo began the prayer reflexively, but couldn’t quite get himself to finish it.
The Edmonton Long-Term Veterinary Care Center was one of the nicest animal hospitals in all of Canada, except that it had only cared for four animals in its seventy-year history; three dogs and a cow that happened to have been hosts. It was also one of two remaining long-term medical facilities for the Prophus in North America, Canada being relatively ambivalent in their policies toward the Quasing, and Arizona being relatively ambivalent toward the policies of their government.
The cover for the hospital, a large unadorned brown building an hour north of Edmonton, was perfect for the constant stream of medical supplies that were drop-shipped in. The hospital’s supplies were being strained this week, as over sixty injured Prophus agents now called the center their home, at least for the next few weeks, if not months.
Cameron Tan stared out the window while a nurse re-sewed a cut on his brow, courtesy of the beating that Jacob Diamont had given him. Twice now. He had gotten the cut during their first fight, and it seemed Jacob found joy in repeatedly bashing him in the same spot over and over again in their second. Maybe he was just an eyebrow hunter.
That is what I would do if I were Jacob.
“You’re very brave to hold so still,” said the nurse, an elderly woman. Cameron had never heard an accent like hers before and wondered which part of the world the Prophus had recruited her from. As for being brave, it was more because of the local anesthesia. He couldn’t feel the top part of his face right now. She could be tattooing it for all he knew.
He had had another nightmare last night and had split the cut open when he woke up flailing and fell out of bed. This was the third consecutive night he had had dreams about the attack on the Genjix base four days ago. The first night, he was too exhausted to dream. Now, while he waited for the nurse to finish her work, his mind wandered back to the terrible events that had happened there.
So many people he knew were now gone, people he had grown up with. Uncle Dylan and Faust were almost family. No, they were family. Uncle Faust was Dad’s best friend and Cameron saw him every holiday. Uncle Dylan was an important man, but he was also Cameron’s godfather. Then there were all of Mom’s people at the farmhouse. They were his babysitters, friends, and playmates. Everything that he had known, his entire life over the past few years was gone. Almost everyone he cared about was dead, and it hurt.
It is not an easy life. This war will claim many loved ones. I have lost more people I care about than I can count, hosts and Quasing alike.
Cameron’s thoughts moved from the friends he had lost to the people he still had. Thank God Mom and Dad were still alive, though Dad was now more mummy than human. Both his arms were in monster casts with fiberglass going all the way past his shoulders. He wore a neck brace, had his chest wrapped in plaster, and one leg wrapped past his knee. The nurses in the hospital doted on him and called him the Golem. Dad loved the attention.
Uncle Marco was scheduled for another surgery tomorrow. This would be his third in five days. They were still hoping to save his leg, and he would have a terrible scar along his chest. Needless to say, he was probably retiring from active duty after this. Cameron had tried to see him a few times, but all he did was sleep. Medically-induced coma they said, and Ahngr, his Quasing, was ordered not to take control for fear of further injury to his frail body.
Rin, the scientist, was recovering alongside a handful of other civilians caught during the Genjix evacuation when Jill’s team was able to cut off their escape route. She had suffered a broken leg and was now recovering in the same hospital down the hallway from Dad.
That left Alex. Just the mention of her name made his chest contract just a little. Of course he wasn’t going to see her at the base. In fact, he had forgotten all about her while he had been fighting there. Like they would send a fourteen year-old girl to fight anyhow. Well, Cameron had gone, but it was against the wishes of his parents.
He was being foolish; he knew that. It was stupid of him to have let her influence his going to the haven. What was he going to do, confront her? Ask her why she would stab him in the back like that? Ask if their time together – that one whole week – was even real, or just one big lie? Would he have just shot her or something? It was all just very immature of him; Cameron knew it and felt ashamed for being so selfish. Good people had died, and all he could think about was the girl.
No, Cameron. There is no shame. You were betrayed and have a right to be hurt. You know better now. Learn from it. Alex is the enemy. If you ever see her again, do not make the same mistake.
“I’m just so stupid, Tao.”
It is an unfair burden to place on you. You are still young. Maybe it will be best if we pull you out of this for a while longer. You were robbed of a childhood. Perhaps we can give you some peace in your teenage years. Perhaps relocate you to Switzerland or England to finish school. Perhaps even go to college.
It was enticing, that thought of a normal life. Cameron almost agreed on the spot. The war should still be here when he was ready. He could just join and help the Prophus later, right? However, that would leave his parents and remaining loved ones fighting while he was gallivanting in safety. Could he live with himself? He knew the answer to that.
“There you go, dear,” the nurse said. “The glue should hold better this time. Try not to split it again.”
Cameron stood up and stared into the mirror at his bandaged head. Nurse Sheung at school would never believe he fell off a tree looking like this. He looked like, well, like he had just come out of a pitched battle. He thanked the nurse and headed to his father’s room. They had placed him in a private room on one of the top floors, since he was pegged for long-term care. He found Roen awake and seemingly in a cheerful mood. Mom was sitting next to his bed, and they were laughing and holding hands. Both of them brightened even more when he walked in.
“The prodigal hero returns.” Roen lifted a club arm and waved. “Ow.”
“How’s my little man doing?” Jill asked.
“Hey, guys,” Cameron said, giving his mother a hug and high-fiving his dad on the part of his club arm where the hand should be, earning him another “ow.”
“Pull up a seat, son.” Roen tried unsuccessfully to gesture at a chair. Cameron pulled one up close to the bed and sat down next to his mother. She reached out and held his hand. Right then and there, he knew he had fallen into a trap.
“Listen, Cam, your mother and I have been talking. What do you think about studying overseas in the UK? The Keeper can pull some strings, and we can enroll you in school there, and possibly have you attend Oxford when you’re old enough.”
Cameron saw the expectant looks in his parents’ eyes and realized that they’d already conspired with his Quasing. “Tao, you totally went behind my back, didn’t you?”
Maybe.
“I thought you were on my side.”
I am on everyone’s side.
Cameron stood up and crossed his arms. “No. I’m not leaving you guys. Forget it.”
His father and mother exchanged glances. “Actually,” Roen said. “I thought I’d come with you. I think I’m pretty much done. I’m officially retired the day these damn casts come off.”
Cameron looked at Jill. “You, too?”
His mother shook her head. “Got offered a new job. Thinking about taking it.”
“Is it in the UK as well?”
“No, but it’s close.”
“What’s the job?”
“The Keeper’s.”
WHAT! Baji is the new fucking leader of the Prophus?
Cameron wasn’t sure who was more shocked, him or Tao. Probably Tao. Still, the news left him speechless. That would mean…
“You’re moving to Greenland?” he asked.
She nodded. “Kind of a requirement for the job. Meredith can’t do it anymore, and her heir, the Keeper’s new host-in-waiting, is too young to take the reins – thanks to your Dad, by the way – so she asked me to take interim command. Probably a five- to ten-year stint.”
“Will Dad go with you?”
Roen grinned. “I’ll be traveling between you both and living out my golden years in retirement while you attend school and your mom slaves away for the Prophus in the Arctic tundra.”
Cameron’s mind raced as he considered the relocation. In truth, he was used to it by now. He had been traveling most of his life, going from place to place. Sure, he’d be far from his grandparents, but it was probably for the best now that he was a Prophus agent. Wait, was he? Cameron had assumed that starting from the mission on the haven, he’d be a full-blown operative, but if he went to school, were they going to pull him from the front line?
“Am I still going to be an agent?” he asked.
His parents exchanged looks. “No,” they said together.
“Then screw this.” Cameron shook his head stubbornly. “You’re not going to tuck me away while you guys risk your lives and the Genjix destroy the planet. I think I’ve proven myself enough.”
“Look, Cam,” Roen said. “You are a Prophus agent already. However, this damn war isn’t the only important thing in the world. You need an education. You need friends. You need a life outside of the Quasing. That way, you know what you’re fighting for.”
They are right. It will just be for a few years. Get a degree. Figure out what is so beautiful about your species and your world.
“I… guess.”
It took another thirty minutes of convincing, but in the end, Cameron accepted his parents’ decision. Wasn’t like he had much of a say in all this, especially with all three of his parents hammering him, but he realized in the end it was for the best, and it was the only way they could stay close together. At least for a little while longer. The family had come to a consensus and were about to hug it all out when Liesel, Jill’s new assistant sent from Greenland, walked in.
“Ma’am,” she said, saluting. “We have a situation. There’s been an unusual chatter along several underground channels. We believe it’s a message.”
Jill switched gears and was all business. “For me? From the Genjix?”
“No, we believe for him.” She pointed at Roen.
She frowned. “What does it say?”
Liesel looked down at her tablet. “Rayban Ghost. Let’s talk.”
Roen knew how ridiculous he looked when he got off the elevator onto the fourth floor of the IXTF regional headquarters in Seattle. The security guard at the entrance stared, mouth agape, as he hobbled into the hallway. The casts on his arms forced them up like Frankenstein’s, and with most of his body in wraps, he must have looked like a walking punchline.
It also was pretty damn painful to make the trip here by himself from Edmonton. However, Kallis insisted this be done in person. Cognizant that this could just be a trap to haul him in, Roen insisted on going alone. The risk was high, but the possible payout was even greater. Besides, his wife, as the new leader of the Prophus, would bust him out, right? Well, at least he hoped so. Roen limped into the office like Quasimodo and waved at two of her guys he recognized from Ontario. Fortunately, they were far too shocked by his appearance to assault or arrest him.
“Wow, you look like absolute shit,” a familiar voice said.
Roen did a complete body turn and saw Kallis, hands on her hip and facial expression somewhere between bemusement and surprise.
“A little help here?” he asked, eyes looking down at the messenger bag about to fall off his shoulder.
No one moved a muscle to help him. Roen should have figured. After all, not only did he work for the aliens, as a full human, he was actually betraying his own species. He was also the Rayban Ghost. They knew for a fact that he had not only injured, but probably gotten some of their brothers- and sisters-in-arms killed, though in Roen’s defense, he had tried his damnedest to avoid that.
Most of all, though, they probably felt like he had completely betrayed their trust. He had sat at their table and broken bread with them. Well, had had drinks, which in this day and age was the same thing. For those in his line of work, it meant something. He had played them for fools and manipulated them. That was something that was difficult to forgive.
“Back to work. All of you,” Kallis snapped. She gestured to Roen. “Come with me.”
He hobbled after her into an interrogation room. The bright side was that none of the agents pounced and tried to cuff him. That was a good sign; it probably meant that he wasn’t going to get arrested and thrown into prison. Well, the day wasn’t over yet.
They went into a bland gray room with a table in the center, two chairs on each side, and a window at one end. On the desk were a pen and paper, and a video recorder, pretty stereotypical, like a bad cop procedural movie. Kallis took a seat at one end with the camera behind her, and Roen sat down on the other side. The camera was already on.
“Thanks for coming,” Kallis began. “What happened to you, anyway?”
“Roller-blading accident.” Roen shrugged. When she gave him a look, he decided to stop trying to be witty. He was never really good at it, not since Tao left him, anyway. “That underwater base your people captured and are trumpeting as a major coup against the aliens?”
She nodded.
“You’re welcome.”
Kallis looked back at the video recorder with the lights on and turned back to him. “Right. Well, over the past two weeks, we captured two alien bases and we saw some crazy shit in there. Our best guys have no idea what they’re for. I bet you do.”
He nodded. “Maybe.”
“So instead of us trying to reinvent the wheel, I’d thought I’d just ask someone who already knew,” said Kallis.
“What are you offering?”
“Immunity.”
Roen shrugged. “And?”
Kallis leaned back and studied him for a few seconds. The silence was long and exhausting, but Roen knew this trick. He waited for her to shut the camera off, which she did a few seconds later. Of course there was another hidden camera behind that two-way mirror. Now the real negotiation began.
She pointed at the stack of papers in front of her. “Past couple of days, I went over all the operations pertaining to you over the past two years. You went out of your way to not kill my guys. Sure, some died, and others got hurt, but you tried to avoid casualties.”
“Like I said.” Roen tried to act as casually as he could. Did she want him to incriminate himself? “We’re not the…”
“… bad guys,” she finished. “I believe that now.” She paused. “I want to work with you and your people.”
“With the Prophus?” he said, surprised. Now he really did wish Tao was here.
“You specifically. I want you to be the liaison between the IXTF and the Prophus.”
“Do you even have the authority for this?” he asked.
Kallis broke into a smile. “You’re looking at the new North America Deputy Director of the IXTF, so yes. Capturing two huge alien bases in the span of a couple of days gets you all sort of accolades and promotions.”
“Well,” Roen said, “you’re welcome again. So what are you offering?”
“Full immunity for all the Prophus,” she pressed, “as long as we receive complete cooperation between IXTF and your… organization, with you as the intermediary. Only you. I don’t trust anyone else.”
Roen’s mind raced. He was pretty sure he wasn’t in a position to make a treaty with Interpol’s Extraterrestrial Task Force. This discussion should really be between Kallis and Jill, not a guy like Roen, who was supposed to retire. Hell, he should be the last guy in the world to drive Prophus policy.
“Why me?” he asked. “We have diplomats who will work better with you. Heck, we have people working for us who are already part of the IXTF.
Kallis scowled; she didn’t like hearing that. “Because these aliens inhabit people. They all have their own agendas. I’m sure you do as well, but you’re the only person I trust right now on that side. Because I have a file this big on you, and the enemy you know is safer than the enemy you don’t.”
“That’s it? I’m the least bad option?”
“That and we have no idea what we’re up against. From what I can tell, something bad is going down, but our lab boys can’t make heads or tails of what we found in that giant facility. Care to shed some light on it?”
Roen grimaced. “It’s part of a giant terraforming operation that will remake Earth into a new Quasing home world, except that process will kill all life on the planet. We’ve been trying to stop it. There’re a couple of these facilities hidden in the United States. We don’t know where they are exactly, but we can help you find them.”
Kallis sat across from him, looking stunned as he spoke. The blood had drained from her face and she sat very still, as if Medusa had turned her into stone. It took a while for his words to sink in. Finally, she coughed and cleared her throat. “That’s some deep shit. So assuming it’s all true, then I’d say our goals align. We both want humanity to continue breathing, so let’s do it together. As long as IXTF leads the operation, I’d like you on board. What do you say?”
For the past few years, the Prophus had been teetering on the brink. Still, this was probably the greatest opportunity they had of turning the tide against the Genjix. Otherwise, this recent victory might have bought them a few years, maybe even ten, but the writing had been on the wall now for a long time. The Prophus weren’t going to make it out of this century. By his estimation, the Earth wasn’t going to, unless something extreme and drastic happened. Maybe this was it.
He swiveled to his left and aimed his right arm at Kallis. “Deal.”
She shook his hand. “There’s one more thing, Rutherford.” She accentuated that name. “I need the truth from you.”
“My real name is Roen. Roen Tan.”
“That’s a start.” Kallis looked toward the mirror and then back at him. “But I need to know everything. If this is to work, let’s have a fresh start and be completely honest with each other.”
“There’s a lot to go through,” he said. “We could be here for a while.”
“I’ll have coffee and Chinese food delivered.”
“How about pizza?”
She smiled. “Pizza it is.”
She turned the camera back on and spoke in a clear voice. “Let’s get started. Timestamp: 0001. From the beginning, shall we?”
Roen made himself comfortable and looked directly at the camera. “My name is Roen Tan, and I am a Prophus operative. I used to be a host to a Quasing alien named Tao. ‘Used to’ because, well, let me start from the beginning. I first met Tao in Chicago…”