by Thomas Stone
*
Bobbi and Kathleen remained in the crew’s lounge while Fagen, Harry and Tringl sat in the roomy confines of the cab. At first, Tringl was mildly interested in the desert terrain. He’d never seen a place so dry, so hot, and so totally devoid of any kind of vegetation. In the Malaaz tongue, he commented to Harry about the uselessness of such a place. Harry replied that it was a poor place for a vacation and, in response, Tringl chuckled a throaty laugh in an attempt to emulate human laughter but it came out more like a crackling moan.
In the quarters above, Kathleen and Bobbi reviewed topographical maps of the target area as well as copies of the videos taken by Ellis and his son.
“It’ll take a couple of hours or more to reach the dunes. That’s when we’ll slow down – probably take three times that long to get to our first stop,” said Bobbi.
“Another couple of hours to set up monitoring equipment and then at least a day’s observation before moving in for a closer look,” added Kathleen.
“I sure hope Jennings is in position by then. I hate to think about checking out this place without some kind of reinforcement waiting in the wings.”
“If he doesn’t show up, Edward will cut him out altogether. He’s nearing his limit with Jennings. I know I am.”
“Edward is the most patient man I ever met – until somebody gets in his way,” said Bobbi.
Fagen entered the lounge just as Bobbi completed her statement. “Ah, my woman is revealing my secrets.” He crossed the compartment and flopped down beside Bobbi, throwing an arm around her shoulders and pulling her close.
Kathleen stared at the couple with amusement. Finally, she said, “Edward, you have changed so much.”
“Oh?” he said, “In what way?”
“You’re more… human.”
Fagen laughed. “I find hanging out with aliens much easier than dealing with humans.”
“That has nothing to do with it,” said Bobbi with a smile, “it’s the love and guidance of a woman that keeps you in line.”
“Is that so?” quipped Fagen as he drew Bobbi closer and kissed her cheek.
*
Harry asked Minerva for an ETA to the looming sand dunes. “Two hours, sixteen minutes,” she replied.
As Harry watched the passing terrain, Minerva ran another series of scans detecting Harry’s blood pressure, temperature, and brain wave activity. All showed on the high side but still within normal ranges.
Harry asked, “Are you scanning me?”
“Yes. How did you know?”
“I can feel it. It’s uncomfortable.”
“Sorry. I have to monitor you.”
“Of course, I understand. You’ve done remarkably well considering the history of people who’ve been infected.”
“One reason for that, I think, is that your host is dead. The connective mechanism still remains – the kitzloc-enabled blood structures - but the flow of traffic is absent. The antiviral medications derived from the cellular formations in your circulatory system did little to stop the spread but the psychotropic drugs got you through the worst of it. Anyway, my guess is the structures are there but somewhat suppressed. You are definitely less agitated.”
“I don’t know, Minerva. I started feeling better on our approach to Mirabel. I wonder if just being here isn’t part of it.”
“Tringl’s proximity too,” added Minerva.
“Yes, that too, but there’s more.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, when I was infected, a connection was made. It poured itself into me. There was so much information I’m certain part of my mind is still processing. The host may be dead but I still have an imperative from another species inside me.” He said the words calmly, not in resignation to his fate, but in recognition of the extent of the problem.
“Harry, I’m sure I can fabricate an active antiviral from living essence. The blood structures will simply dissolve. It’ll feel like a fresh breeze through your thoughts. You’ll see.” She affected a Scarlett O’Hara tone at the end.
“You may be right, Minerva. You always are. But there is still something you don’t understand.”
“What’s that?” Scarlett queried.
“The power of these creatures. It’s incredible. Sense perception evolved to an extent far beyond our understanding. You know what a kitzloc infection is like? It’s like being schooled. Only there’s too much information.”
“I guess all those who died failed the grade.”
Harry nodded his head. “You could say that. Open a vent for me please, so I can get some fresh air.”
“It’ll be hot, like a furnace.”
“Do it anyway, for just a minute.”
Minerva opened an unseen vent in the cab and, as she said, a stream of hot air issued forth. Harry bent his face to the airflow and, closing his eyes, inhaled deeply.
*
Minerva brought the truck to a stop between two dunes approximately sixty-four kilometers south of Jennings’ coordinates. Line of sight communication was useless below the dunes, so Fagen asked Minerva to relay his signal to Jennings. When contact was established, Fagen asked Jennings if he was still in Boomtown.
Jennings answered from his simulcon command console. “We’re still here, but we’ll be winding it up soon.”
“Any luck?”
“None whatsoever. Not a track, not a sign of any kind. We had a tough time moving the robots through the tunnels but we made it far enough to convince Griswold nothing is here. He’s uh, pretty disappointed.”
“We’re at our first observation point and setting up sensors now. Nothing more to report. I suggest keeping this channel open.”
“All right, will do. I’ll check in with you again when we’re moving. Out.”
It was late afternoon by the time Fagen began setting up the passive sensors and the desert heat was stifling. From the top of a dune, Fagen watched rising heat waves in the distance. Before him was another seemingly endless sea of dunes; behind, in the direction they’d come, was a similar view.
He placed the first sensor near the crest, burying it completely but allowing a few centimeters of antenna to remain exposed. When activated, the sensor would detect vibrations from the rumbling of a passing truck or the footsteps of a man. Nearby, he placed another passive sensor; a simple microphone, highly sensitive but with enough signal processing intelligence to distinguish between natural sounds and mechanical. As Fagen began placing a third sensor, Harry exited the truck.
Tringl appeared at the open doorway but when the heat hit him full on, Tringl balked. Harry turned and signaled for Tringl to follow as Fagen watched, but the orange-headed alien wouldn’t budge. Finally, the fur-covered alien retreated from the heat and the hatch slid shut. Harry shrugged and trudged up the hill toward Fagen.
Both men wore desert cooling suits that covered them from the top of their heads to their toes. Liquid coolant circulated through the lightweight suits by artificial veins and arteries. Additionally, their eyes were shielded from the intense sun by a visor and self-adjusting sun-glasses.
As Harry approached, Fagen commented, “You didn’t expect Tringl to follow, did you?”
“No, but I wanted it to be his choice. We don’t have a desert suit big enough although I suppose Minerva could rig one up.”
“He’s Malaaz,” said Fagen, “he’d rather pierce his nipples than put on restrictive clothing.” Fagen gave Harry a long look. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, no problems. What do you want me to do?”
Together they set up the remainder of the sensors and launched a spy kite that gave them visuals for the entire surrounding area. The kite went straight up on its micro-thin tether and within seconds they were watching a swaying video feed.
Harry stood atop the sand dune and inhaled as he looked northward. After a moment, he looked at Fagen. Fagen returned the gaze, finally asking, “What?”
“There’s no kitzloc that way.” Harry cocked his head to the
north, and then looked eastward. “That’s the way we should go.”
Fagen sighed. “Look Harry, you were very sick, there were physiological changes; to us you seemed out of your mind – we still don’t know your present mental condition. You seem all right, but then you get that faraway look. Tell me something.”
“Something that’ll help convince you I’m in control of my faculties?”
“Maybe. What I keep wondering is what you’re connected to since your host died? Can you tell me that?”
Harry thought about the question, then said, “A collective consciousness created at a quantum harmonic level.”
The idea of what Harry said rolled around in Fagen’s brainpan for a long moment. “A collective consciousness of other kitzloc?”
“Yes, I think so.”
Fagen nodded thoughtfully. “That’s astounding. If it’s true -- if you’re right. But that’s the question, isn’t it? If not for you, then at least for the rest of us? We’re all concerned about you. It’s why we’re here. I have plenty of questions when you get it all figured out, but right now I can’t risk going on a hunch and wandering in uncharted desert. Can you understand that? We have an arrangement with Jennings and it’s important that I follow through. We can use his help. I wouldn’t leave him stranded out here in any case.”
“He would you, if the situation were reversed,” said Harry.
“Well, I’m not him, thank goodness.”
Harry shrugged.
As Harry and Fagen re-entered the truck, Minerva reported the sighting of three vehicles forty-eight kilometers behind following their tracks.
“It’s got to be Luther Cross and his boys,” Fagen said to Minerva. “That guy just doesn’t give up.”
Fagen radioed the new information to Jennings who didn’t seem surprised. “Luther’s a stubborn SOB,” Jennings explained. “I’m about halfway to my first stop. I suppose I’d better turn around and sneak up behind them.”
“That’s going to delay us even more and raise the risk of giving away our positions to any nearby kitzloc. Why don’t you proceed according to plan and let me deal with Luther?”
“He’s got three times as many people as you. You’re outnumbered.”
“Yes, but he’s still outgunned and he knows it. As long as he maintains his distance, we’ll be fine.”
“I hope you’re right. Any good data from your sensor placements?”
“It’s all good data. Unfortunately, so far none of it shows any sign of kitzloc activity.”
“That’s okay. Slow and easy is the way to go. I’ll call when we get to our stopping point. Shouldn’t be long now. Call me if you need back-up. Anything else?”
“Nope,” said Fagen.
“Then good luck. Out.”
Fagen called for Minerva again. “Yes?” she responded.
“Anything to report?”
“Yes. Your destination appears to be a stand of boulders in the dunes. I’m keeping a close watch on the location but there’s been no movement.”
For the next six hours, they watched and listened. More to the point, Minerva did the actual work and reported nothing extraordinary except that the small convoy of trucks had stopped less than eight kilometers from their position.
“They’re resting and waiting,” she said. “They’ve got sensors out as well. Nothing like ours, of course, but they know where you are.”
“Okay. Let’s move closer to the spot. Inform Jennings we’re moving to our second location.”
After a moment’s hesitation, the truck lifted and, with a bit of a start, it began moving. Minutes later, Minerva reported that Luther’s convoy was on the move again.
They drove between the dunes to maintain a low profile and reduced speed the closer they got to the site. Jennings called over the radio and reported that he’d set two drones loose but neither had anything unusual to report. Fagen launched two additional drones that flew in crossing patterns before their path.
Minerva’s zigzagging course finally ended as the big truck slowly glided to a halt at the base of a large dune. “Here we are,” she said. “From the top of that dune you can see the boulders marking the spot. It’s about a kilometer due north.”
“Thank you, Min.”
Kathleen and Bobbi prepped the simulcons while Fagen and Harry exchanged their desert suits for hunter’s suits. They weren’t as comfortable as the desert suits but they had the ability to bend light, effectively making the wearer invisible. Regulated micro-cooling units adjusted the suits’ temperature to match that of background temperatures so the wearer was also invisible along the infrared spectrum, all the while keeping the wearer insulated and protected inside an inner skin. The suit was lightweight and included woven ceramics armor. A small backpack provided power, a communications hook-up, a portable sensor array, and controls for a heads-up display within a helmet of lightweight alloy.
Harry and Fagen scrambled up the incline of the dune, dropping to a crawl as the sands shifted. Behind, attached by tethered lines, they dragged packages containing sensor equipment. Near the top of the hill, they stopped and, using the telemetry optics in their helmets, took a careful look. Nothing moved save for the occasional spray of sand lifted by a stray breeze from the tops of neighboring dunes. They couldn’t see Luther or his men but knew they were only a short distance away. Radio chatter with Jennings was silenced in accordance with earlier agreements. At a preset time, when Jennings was in position and all preparations were made, he would be contacted briefly in order to back-up Fagen’s approach to the lair.
Fagen telescoped an optical peeper over the edge of the dune. The display showed more dunes as well as a leveled area nearly a kilometer away. In the middle of the area was a jumble of boulders marking the entrance to the lair.
“There it is,” said Fagen. “Take a look.” He handed the peeper to Harry. Harry squinted through the eyepiece but made no comment. He handed the device back and began connecting the sensor antenna to the passive array. Once that was accomplished, he buried the small console in the sand.
Data began coming in immediately, all of it indicating an area devoid of anything alive. The massive desert was a No Man’s Land, but there was occasional wildlife of mostly the insect and reptilian variety. With the gear in place, Harry and Fagen backed away from their position at the top of the hill and slid down the sandy slope on their backsides.
At the bottom, Fagen commented that Harry had been quiet and asked if everything was all right.
“This suit is stifling. I feel like I’m smothering. I’d rather deal with heat directly than wear this thing. I want it off.”
“All right. Maybe you’d better tend to it.”
Harry nodded and returned to the truck. Fagen watched as his friend disappeared inside, then spoke into his mic, “Minerva?”
She responded immediately. “Yes?”
“What’s Cross up to?”
“They’ve stopped again and are apparently observing us.”
“I wonder what their intentions are?”
“A piece of the action, I’d say.”
Fagen nodded. “No doubt. But how are they going to go about it?”
“If I was Luther, I’d wait and watch until we have the essence, then I’d attempt to hijack it. I think he knows he’s got no chance once it’s inside the vehicle so he’ll probably try to intercept you upon leaving the lair.”
“Yes, well, in that case, he’ll have to deal with the simulcons. Good luck there.”
“Luther doesn’t strike me as foolhardy. He’s got something up his sleeve and it’s not all about the essence either. He and Jennings have ongoing problems.”
“Okay, sit tight and observe. Send a microburst to Jennings on the designated frequency to signify we’re in place. I’m going to explore the immediate area.”
“Be careful.”
“Oh, I will.” With that, Fagen set out on foot. From the standpoint of a casual observer, there was little to see. When Fagen moved, there w
as a blurring in the air and shifting sand where his steps landed, but little more.
*
Inside the truck, Harry peeled off the suit and pulled on looser-fitting dungarees, then went upstairs to the simulcon control compartment where Kathleen and Bobbi sat plugged in. At a glance, Harry noticed Bart’s console was active as well. Harry crossed the small compartment and placed his hands on Kathleen’s shoulders. She responded by briefly touching his hand.
Harry felt her touch course through him, invigorating and strengthening him, finally gathering in the middle of his chest where it resonated a moment before dissipating. Harry left the compartment without distracting the women further and crossed into the crew’s lounge where he found Tringl watching cartoons on a video display.
Tringl glanced at Harry as he entered. Pointing to the screen, he grinned broadly and emulated a human laugh. In the Malaaz native tongue, he said, “Plenty funny.”
Harry sat beside Tringl and donned a VR helmet. “Minerva, take me to the simulator please.”
Instantly, he was transported to the main chamber. Before him was the plot. Minerva was already there, dressed as a southern belle, with matching bonnet and parasol. “I made some adjustments,” she said.
Harry walked to the plot and peered at the bowl of water. The plot itself was a different color and texture, more pleasing to the eye than the previous one, more familiar.
“I can see. It looks great, just as I remember it. You did a marvelous job. I’d like to tweak it just a bit – may I have an interactive monitor please?”
Minerva twirled her parasol and a monitor materialized beside Harry. Harry immediately set about accessing, then manipulating the simulation code. Minerva passively stood to one side and watched.
*
For all practical purposes, Fagen was invisible as he walked between the dunes. The loose sand made walking difficult and Fagen strained to keep going. Behind him, a trail of footsteps indicated his progress. He had worked his way to within three hundred meters of Luther Cross’s halted convoy and could see them lounging in the shade of the vehicles. Luther himself sat in one of the old trucks looking at a display – probably reviewing his sensor data, Fagen thought. From where he stood, Fagen could see two antennae connected to associated instruments sitting atop a nearby dune. The antennae pointed at the suspected kitzloc lair and Fagen’s truck. If Fagen could work his way to the dune and get his hands on the equipment, Luther would be without his eyes and ears.