GENESIX: THE TRILOGY

by Greg Logan

  Cosmo brought the chair crashing onto that massive skull. Marty went down. His eyes didn’t shut as there were no lids, but he was still. He was breathing, but that seemed to be all.

  “Hey, Marty,” Cosmo said. “Can you hear me?”

  No response. Unconscious, Cosmo figured. He hated having to do this. Marty wasn’t a bad guy. He was caught up in the blind-following of Mother, Quentin and Snake, but he wasn’t a bad guy. Cosmo hoped he wasn’t hurt badly. But he had no time to think about this now. He had to get out of here.

  Cosmo ran down the hallway then bolted through a doorway and down a flight of stairs.

  Jake stood in the computer alcove, a beer in his hand. Akila was now at the computer console. For someone who had never even seen an electronic device until four years ago, she had gotten fairly adept at monitoring the central computer and all of its myriad functions.

  She said, “Incoming. I’m detecting a sudden rise in tachyon waves.”

  “The away team is returning?” Jake said.

  “It would seem that way.” She was looking into one monitor at a series of read-outs. “Seems to have the right quantum signature.”

  With a flash of light, the away team was suddenly standing in the central lab, just behind the alcove. Jeff was wearing the ragged remains of his shirt and jacket, and April was in her golden jumpsuit but had apparently discarded her 1880’s clothing. The faces of all four were streaked with dust and soot.

  Jake said, “Are you all right?”

  April nodded.

  Scott said, “Just barely.”

  “For once, just once, I would like to see a mission go routinely. Just once.”

  Scott nodded. “How about you get me a beer?”

  Once he had a cold Heineken in one hand, he sat in the alcove to rest a moment, and then relayed the story to Jake and Akila. He loosened his tie while he spoke. April, meanwhile, headed down to the residential wing to have a shower.

  “No shit,” Jake said, listening to their story. “An alien invasion? Actual, real-life, honest-to-God space aliens?”

  Scott shrugged. “We have theorized their existence for some time.”

  “Yeah, but to actually see one.”

  Sammy was grabbing a beer.

  Sammy said, “Like we talked about earlier, Scott and I once detected what was probably a ship out at the edge of our solar system. Now, it appears their existence isn’t merely theoretical.”

  Akila said, “So, what do we do? Begin scanning space, looking for this armada of ships that is apparently on its way here?”

  Scott looked at Sammy and nodded. “I would say that’s exactly what we do.”

  “Well,” Sammy said, “they haven’t entered the solar system yet. I have the computer set to give an alarm at the sign of any sort of motion out there. We have four telescopes in orbit, now. The original intention was to watch for asteroids that might present a threat to the Earth, but they could be used for this purpose, too.”

  Scott said, “We need to develop a long-range telescope, to be able to give a detailed view beyond our solar system. Much better than we have now. Way better than what Hubble can do. We have to find that armada, so we can maybe determine an estimate as when it might be arriving. I have no doubt they are on their way, and I want to be ready.”

  Jeff had showered, and was now in a pair of gray sweatpants. He glanced at the chronometer on the wall, which showed the time and the date. They had been in 1880 for six hours, and he had attempted to bring them back to their own time six hours after they left. Looked like he was pretty close. Of course, he could have brought them back only a second after they had left, but many people found that sort of thing a little disorienting. Scott’s time-traveling equipment couldn’t do that. If it took you into the past for four hours, it could only bring you back four hours after you left. The reason was the machine took you to the past in a linear sort of way, but time moves in curves and swirls. It was no wonder the machine couldn’t work right. To Jeff it was elementary. He didn’t understand why the genius of Scott Tempest had such a hard time understanding it.

  He felt weary. The battle he had fought in the past hadn’t physically tired him, as powering-up usually left him feeling exhilarated. But he felt a sort of mental and emotional weariness.

  He had traveled to the past. He had stood on the streets of Boston in 1880. Not many could claim that. And he had actually fought space aliens. Correction, one space alien and the alien’s android lover. A great adventure, he supposed. Maybe at thirteen, when he had first found his father and Scott and the others, he would have thought so. But he didn’t want this life. He had been living off the grid for as far back as he could remember. Raised by Mother and Snake, and surrounded by other meta-humans also living off the grid. And with Dad and Scott, he was taking part in the exploration of the multi-verse, though today was the first day he had actually seen action to this degree.

  He just didn’t want this. Not now. Not anymore. He was tired of all of it.

  They had learned an alien armada was on its way. They had yet to determine exactly when it would arrive, but he figured Scott and Sammy would figure it out. And they would be ready. Scott, Sammy and Dad would figure it all out. They always did.

  All Jeff wanted was college. He wanted to have a life. Major in literature. Study dead poets. Maybe become a high school teacher. He wanted to marry someone and live in the suburbs and have a couple kids. He wanted to drive an SUV, and his wife could have a mini-van. The kids would play soccer and do karate and ballet. Boring, perhaps. But he was finding boring seemed kind of appealing.

  He raised his left fist to his face and said into the ever-present wrist band, “Chloe.”

  Within a few seconds, a sound field formed around him. He heard Chloe’s voice. “Jeff?”

  Her voice was warm, friendly, and not just a little sexy. Jeff found himself smiling. “Hey, Chloe. I hope I’m not catching you at a bad time.”

  He glanced at the chronometer again. 3:15 PM. He said, “You know how it is, here at the facility. You feel so cut off from the rest of the world, time doesn’t seem to have a lot of meaning. Kind of strange, I suppose, for that to be coming from someone like me.”

  “No,” she said. “I totally know what you mean. And it’s okay. I don’t have class this afternoon. I’m in my room studying for a trig test tomorrow. So, are you, like, okay? You don’t sound so good.”

  He snorted a chuckle. “Rough day at the office, that’s all. Hey, is that party still on for this weekend?”

  “Yeah. You coming?”

  He nodded with a smile. “Yeah. I’ll be there. Definitely.”

  After clubbing Marty into unconsciousness with the old wooden chair, Cosmo had run down a flight of stairs and through a door and out onto the sidewalk. He then ran all the way to the end of the street, which joined to another, larger four-lane street. He recognized exactly where he was and he knew where he wanted to go. However, to get there, he had to avoid being captured by Quentin or any of the other freaks.

  He wanted to run, but that would attract attention. So he forced himself to move along at a walking pace, mixing in with the pedestrians who were moving along.

  Boston wasn’t a big city when you were driving through it. But when you were on foot, it could seem pretty damn big. And God, he could use a cigarette. They had either been taken from him or had been lost in the alley when Quentin and Snake attacked him. Not that he would be able to light one, anyway. He never carried matches or a lighter because he didn’t need them. Until he could figure a way to fix whatever they had done to him, he wouldn’t be able to use his fire power.

  He could just imagine the two of them, sitting in a back room in the old jewelry shop Mother used as a sort of office. He could see them dumping the cash on the floor and counting it, and deciding in what way they could use it to for the good of the entire society of meta-humans. Mother and Snake were always watching out for everyone’s well-being, and yet everyone lived on the edge of homelessn
ess, often with little more than the clothing on their backs. He had to wonder who was watching the watchers? When your leaders are leading you right into poverty and starvation, maybe you needed new leaders. That’s what a democracy was all about. But then, what the meta-human society in Boston had could hardly be called a democracy. In a democracy, you at least got to vote for your leaders. No one had voted for Mother and Snake to be their leaders, or for Quentin to join their little triad.

  They had taken on the job of judge and jury all on their own, and convicted Cosmo. Or would be soon. Well, he thought, we’ll see about that. You shit on old Cosmo, and he shits back twice as hard.

  His destination was One Central Plaza. Home of the Boston branch of the FBI. He only hoped he could get there before they closed. Most government offices closed at four in the afternoon. If he couldn’t get there before they closed, then he didn’t think there was any way he could avoid being recaptured before morning. That blind mind-reading guy could detect meta-humans. He would be able to lead them right to Cosmo. He had no doubt Quentin was already out on the street, somewhere, looking for him. And once it got dark, the one who called himself the Darkness would be out prowling.

  Cosmo hurried up the concrete steps of One Central Plaza, and found the front doors still unlocked. A clock on the wall in the lobby read 3:48. Fantastic.

  He went to the reception desk. A woman was behind it, maybe late twenties. A business suit. Long, straight hair. Seemed like all the girls had long, straight hair these days.

  “I want to see Agent Kincaid,” he said.

  “Excuse me, who?”

  “Come on, lady. I don’t have time for games. I know they reinstated him to active duty. They cleared him of all charges. I keep my ear to the ground. Tell them I want to see him about Jake Calder. Captain Courageous. You tell him that.”

  She was looking at him curiously, like you might a strange dog you thought might bite you, but you weren’t quite sure. She said, “Could I have a name?”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Cosmo. Tell him I used to be a friend of Peter LaSalle. Tell Kincaid I got some information for him. But hurry.”

  She gave him one last curious look, then picked up a phone.

  Four minutes later, two agents stepped out into the lobby and ushered Cosmo into an office on the third floor. There was no name on the door, but in the office was a metal desk. Government issue. Behind the desk was a man in a dark suit. His forehead was kind of tall and his hairline had a sharp widow’s peak.

  “Agent Kincaid?” Cosmo said.

  The widow-peak guy nodded to the two agents who had escorted Cosmo in, and they turned without a word and left, the soles of their shoes clicking on the hard tiled floor. They closed the door behind them.

  “Yes,” the man said. “I’m Kincaid.”

  “I had to ask. I never met you before.”

  “My time is precious,” the agent said. “What can I do for you?”

  “Well, I would demonstrate for you just who I am, but you see, this guy, Quentin, he’s put a lock on my ability.”

  Kincaid leaned forward on his elbows. “And what ability is that?”

  Cosmo wasn’t sure if the man was interested or just humoring him. “I’m a firestarter. I’m the one who’s been burning these buildings, the last couple’a nights. But I can’t because this Quentin guy, Quentin Jeffries, has put a lock on me.”

  “And how did he do that?”

  “With his mind.”

  Kincaid sat back in his chair, looking at Cosmo as though he were evaluating him and trying to decide just what to do about him.

  “Look, Kincaid,” Cosmo said. “I know who you are. I know you were after Scott Tempest and Jake Calder. I know you almost caught ‘em too, four years ago.”

  “And how do you know that?”

  “I keep my ear to the ground.”

  “Mister...I didn’t get your name.”

  “Cosmo. Cosmo Lewis.”

  “Look, Mister Lewis..,”

  “Cosmo.”

  “Look, Cosmo. I’m not sure what it is you want from me, but..,”

  “I want protection.” That had Kincaid’s attention. “I want protection from all of ‘em.”

  “Protection, exactly, from who?”

  Cosmo leaned forward and rested one elbow on the desk. “What if I could tell you there’s a whole community of super guys living right here in Boston, right under your nose? Guys just like Tempest and Calder. Women, too. People who have that genesis gene, you people call it.”

  “How many?”

  “Dozens.”

  “And just where would these people be?”

  “I’ll tell you everything,” Cosmo said. “But first..,”

  Kincaid’s brows rose. “First?”

  “You gotta give me a cigarette, man.”

  TWENTY

  2034

  Three nights had passed since the battle. The straggling band of survivors was gathered about in an alley in the remains of Boston. Three of them, including Henry, stood around an upended barrel housing one of the fires. Jeff and Quentin sat by a small campfire they had made from broken wooden pallets.

  The number of their little band of survivors was now down to merely twelve. They had buried Mother the morning before, and the others who had died with her, in a small wooded area that had once been a city park. Sammy was gone, also, damaged beyond repair when he fell through the concrete roof of the airport. He was buried with the others. None of the group of survivors had ever considered him merely a machine. They considered him to be a living being, as much so as the rest of them.

  Sondra had been among those who died.

  Jeff thought there was nothing the Darkness could do to creep him out anymore. He had seen this strange energy being only a few times when he was growing up, but for the past seventeen years he had been fighting alongside him. And yet, when Jeff and the Darkness had pulled Sondra’s lifeless body from the wreckage of the old airport, the Darkness let out a wail that echoed into the distance. He then seemed to dissipate into the night.

  He reappeared the following morning. He spoke like he always did, in his deep theatrical voice. And he spoke like he was reading the words, not like he was just saying them off the top of his head like most people do. “I must be gone for a while, Jeff. I have to grieve in my own way. But I will be back.”

  “How long do you think?” Jeff had said.

  “A few days. Perhaps a week. But I shall return, and then I plan to wage war on the Machine, and any who stand in my way. I plan to crush them all. The aliens will rue the day they ever decided to take the Earth.”

  Rue? Did anyone really talk like that anymore? But before Jeff could ask, the Darkness was gone. He hadn’t been heard from since.

  Jeff thought he had seen everything the Darkness was capable of. He was now wondering what the Darkness unleashed would be like. Maybe he didn’t want to know.

  So many had died. So many who had become like family after so many years of running from the Machine. And there was Sara, who had never really existed at all. It seemed like one part of Jeff wanted to grieve the loss of her, but how do you grieve for someone who was never actually there? Someone who was in reality a shape-shifting squid masquerading as a human?

  Quentin sat with his right arm in a sling. Jeff still wore no shirt. What extra clothes he had were lost when the airport was destroyed, and they were simply out of resources. He had his pants and boots, and that was all he now owned in the world. Rick was out in the night, scouting throughout the city to see what he could find.

  Quentin reached with his good hand to one ear and removed what looked like a small hearing aid.

  “The device Scott Tempest made,” he said. “It enabled me to use my telekinesis at full force. Otherwise, my cranial blood pressure rises dangerously. Without this device, all I can do without endangering myself amounts to no more than mere parlor tricks. But now it’s damaged. It no longer works.”

  Jeff nodded. “We won that battle, but
at an extremely high price. We lost Sammy, and we lost Mother. Without her, it’ll take much longer to nurse back our wounded. And without your hearing aid device, you’re effectively no longer a living weapon.”

  “I am afraid another such attack, and this war will be over.”

  Jeff nodded. He looked into the fire. He said nothing.

  Quentin said, “Are you all right?”

  “Just thinking about Sara.” Jeff stood silently a moment, staring into the flames. “I guess I don’t know if I’m all right. I don’t really know how to feel. I guess kind of numb all over. I mean, she was the love of my life. And to find out she wasn’t even real..,”

  Quentin was silent, letting Jeff speak.

  Jeff said, “I mean, it’s not like she died. That would be hard enough to handle. But I guess I was sort of prepared for that. We’ve been at war for so many years. You kind of get used to the idea that anyone you know may not be around long.

  “Our whole relationship revolved around this war. We met just two weeks before the invasion began. Did you know that? I suppose I had always expected we wouldn’t have a lot of time together, so we were trying to make the most of every moment we had. But to never really have had her at all. To know she was really just a shape-changing squid. A spy. It was all a lie. There never really was a Sara. I never really had her at all.”

  He looked to Quentin, his eyes almost pleading for some sort of answer that would make sense of it all. “She never even really existed, Quentin.”

  “I don’t know what to say, my boy. I really don’t. This has been a down-hill battle from the start, really. All those years ago, when they caught us with our proverbial pants down. Remotely took command of the central computer at the Colorado facility. Killed your father before he could even power-up. Killed Scott. It’s been a downhill fight since then. I suppose it’s amazing we lasted this long.”