“What the hell were you thinking KJ?” Jonathan asked as KJ sat shivering next to a heater, clasping a mug of hot chocolate. “You could have died out there.”
“So... so... could the Hua... Huahuqui,” KJ stuttered through chattering teeth.
“You should have come and got one of us,” Jonathan nearly yelled, pacing back and forth like a caged tiger.
“No... no time. Had to save her ...” KJ’s eyes welled up, but he refused to cry.
“What on God’s green Earth would possess you to do it alone? You’re eleven,” Jonathan said, dropping to his haunches.
KJ couldn’t look him in the eye. “I was being brave... like my dad.”
Jonathan sighed heavily. “KJ. Listen to me. Kelly, your dad, was a brave man. No-one doubts that. But bravery and intelligence are two different things. He was brave, and totally reckless and—”
KJ didn’t want to hear another word, and so leapt up and ran to his room crying.
“He’s here,” came a whisper from the shadows breaking KJ’s train of thought.
Lex and Merry slinked into the beam of a nearby halogen. By their side were their Huahuqui. Kiska was so named for his likeness to a cat; his blunted nose and feline almond-shaped eyes. He was forever swishing his tail and pouncing on insects or small animals that had stowed away on the G800s as they made their journey to and from the outside world. Kroshka, literally little crumb, was a tiny Huahuqui—much smaller than any of the others. For a long time, there was concern she wouldn’t survive the cold of Antarctica, but Merry had stuck with her. Kroshka was resilient.
“Did you bring the boys?” KJ asked.
“Actually, I did,” came Catherine’s voice from the dark. She stepped into the light with Igor, Leo and their symbiotes, Xu and Jin. “It was easier for me than the girls. Didn’t want to arouse suspicion.”
KJ nodded in approval and eyed the Shaolin monks. Their bald heads, which seemed to nearly touch the ceiling, shone in the spotlights. Leo and Igor were the only humans of African decent in the Stratum. The first children were comprised solely of Nenets, save for KJ and Nikolaj. In the early days, Alpha Base had allowed several groups of orphans to pair up with those Huahuqui who were without a human. There was some stigma attached to being a secondo, but at six foot five and built like brick shithouses, no one was going to ask Igor and Leo about it.
“Evening, boys,” KJ said with a dip of his brow.
The men touched their palms together, and gave a shallow bow. In unison, their Huahuqui lowered their heads briefly.
“I’ll cut to the chase. I found Svetlana. Our Svetlana. Or at least, I ran into her. She was the assassin in Washington who tried to shoot the President.”
Catherine nodded in confirmation.
“Are you, sure, KJ?” Lex asked.
“Is it true?” Merry chimed in.
“Yep. Positive. And before you ask, no she didn’t tell me, Nikolaj. You can come out of the shadows,” KJ said, looking over Igor’s shoulder.
“You think you can sneak away without me knowing, Junior? You should have learned as a kid, I always know.” Nikolaj emerged from the darkness, his narrowed eyes glowing with condemnation.
KJ snorted. “And you should have figured out, I always know when you’re following me. Your annoying, curious ass wouldn’t be able to stay away from a secret meeting.”
The Shaolin Monks glanced at each other but said nothing. They weren’t known for their conversation skills; communicating with each other telepathically. Some thought they’d taken a vow of silence. KJ just understood most people’s conversations weren’t worth engaging.
“So, you think you found Svetlana, huh?” Nikolaj said, folding his arms across his large chest.
“I don’t think, I know,” KJ retorted.
“And now what do you propose to do about it?” Nikolaj fired back.
“I propose we go find her, and others who were taken, and bring them back.”
Nikolaj rolled his eyes. “Why would we do that alone? Why wouldn’t we talk with Alpha Base and the UN and all the people much more qualified than us to go get them?”
KJ rose to his feet, anger boiling up. “Because you know as well as I do, by the time this has made it through months of negotiation and planning, they’ll send in the military. Our friends will all be killed. No one has a better chance of reaching them, but you can bet your perfect-grade-A-ass they won’t send us in. We’re too important. Besides, now they have their panties in a twist about the nuclear threat. It’s gonna be red tape spaghetti.”
“They haven’t been our friends in nearly twenty years, Junior,” Nikolaj said. “If the shooter was Svetlana, like you think, then they’ve done something to her. She’s gone.”
KJ banged a fist on the table and clenched his jaw. “Listen to me, you self-righteous prick. Twenty years ago, they didn’t have any friends before your mom and my mom decided to try and save them. Your mom died trying to save them. How about we owe it to everyone on that mission to try?”
Nikolaj’s expression softened. “I don’t need to be reminded she died, asshole.”
KJ exhaled out his anger. “Look man, the Nine Veils are planning something big. They waited seventeen years, then suddenly bust out of the closet like a repressed guy at Mardi Gras. That’s not a coincidence and you know it. Whatever’s up their sleeve, it’s happening now. So, you go tell on me to mom if you like, but I’m going after Svetlana.”
KJ felt Nikolaj’s consciousness searching his, probably for some ulterior motive—for some selfish reason. The sensation waned as Nikolaj’s gaze roved over each and every one of his fellow Stratum round the table.
“You all want to do this, don’t you?” Nikolaj asked, though his tone suggested he knew the answer.
“We do,” answered the girls. “We trust KJ.”
Catherine nodded.
Nikolaj flicked his head, a silent question, to Leo and Igor.
They nodded once.
“Better this than all-out war?” Nikolaj said as if he’d read the monks’ minds. He sighed heavily and took a seat opposite KJ. “Fine. We go look. But, if I get a whiff this is going south, I’m calling the cavalry, got it?”
KJ smirked and sat. “You got it, golden balls.”
Nikolaj rubbed his crew-cut blond hair. “So, what’s the move? How do we even locate her?”
“When we had our little tumble at the memorial, I felt her connect to me. Hell, I felt it all morning, at one hell of a distance. I think if we utilize our hive mind, we can zero in on her. Maybe even make contact.”
“Wouldn’t you have been able to do that before? Like in the last twenty years?” Catherine asked.
“Not necessarily,” Nikolaj said.
“If they’d shielded their minds somehow. But now they’ve come out, they’re exposed,” KJ finished.
“Careful, Junior, someone might remember there’s a brain in there,” Nikolaj said, a smug smirk once again plastered across his broad face.
“So, how,” began Merry.
“Shall we do this?” Lex finished.
KJ pursed his lips. Use of the hive mind was rare these days. As children they would often move as one organism around Alpha base, communicating only telepathically or occasionally in Aymara—because it was fun to feel special and hide from the adults—but in their teens and early twenties diverging paths, careers, and responsibilities had meant they did this less and less. Still, the bond was always strong and while in Alpha Base every member of the Stratum could feel the telepathic tether to each and every one who resided there. It was comforting, and they certainly drew strength from their number.
“We do it old school,” KJ said finally. “We hold hands and concentrate, like we used to.”
The others looked nervously at each other, then shrugged and grabbed a seat. Their Huahuqui took a place by their side, then sat on the floor with their front legs placed on the table in readiness. KJ, Igor, Leo, Lex, Merry and Nikolaj each took one hand of the Huahuqui on e
ither side, forming a complete circle. Everyone closed their eyes.
Click.
KJ opened one eye to see Catherine hovering over them, taking pictures.
“You mind?” he whispered. “We kinda got a thing going on here.”
“Posterity,” Catherine whispered.
“Noted. Just be aware, I’ll be taking pictures of your posterity later.”
Catherine smirked, but said nothing.
“Can we do this?” Nikolaj asked without opening his eyes.
“Sure,” KJ said and settled back into concentration.
Though out of practice, connecting a small hive mind like this came back to him as if he did it every day. KJ’s mind fluttered and crackled with firing neurons as everyone linked with him. Their consciousness tugged and pushed on his; but, much like daisy-chaining multiple CPUs, he could feel his processing power grow, the ability to entertain hundreds if not thousands of ideas simultaneously. He concentrated on his ordeal with Svetlana, on the lingering moment their eyes met. Next to him, K’awin warbled and padded on the spot though never broke the circle.
Svetlana’s face, initially just a blur, came into sharp relief. The remnant of her invading KJs mind was shared between the friends as if it were a chunk of viral data to be replicated. Her shapely eyes, the long dark hair, and square jaw all seemed to morph back and forth with that of a child—her as a child—standing in a frigid squall on the Yamal Peninsula all that time ago.
There was no mistaking it was her, yet her mind was unlike any other KJ or his kin had encountered—two personalities, one lying atop the other masking the weaker one, controlling it. The group gathered their collective consciousness and pushed deeper into her psyche, pressing on the upper most personality and willing it to break.
The small child returned to the vision. You can’t be here, the young girl said. It’s not safe.
Svetlana, it’s us. Your friends. KJ and Nikolaj. Do you not remember us? KJ projected.
The girl shook her head. You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe. She’ll hear you.
Who? Who Svetlana? KJ pressed.
The girls face suddenly contorted becoming that of the adult woman KJ had encountered, and then in a blinding flash of white and strange imagery her face was for an instant someone else entirely; a woman of sharp angles, cold eyes and blondish-grey hair. A shrill scream and the connection was severed.
Everyone jolted in their seat, breaking the circle and clasping their own heads.
“Jesus, fuck, what was that?” KJ said, his eyes scrunched together.
“I don’t know,” Nikolaj said through pressed teeth. “But it hurt.”
“What did you see?” Catherine asked.
“Svetlana, it was Svetlana,” KJ replied.
“You don’t know that,” Nikolaj said, rubbing his temples.
“How the fuck can you say that. You saw it. We all saw it,” KJ protested, already rising from his seat.
“No, we saw something. You know the connection of minds is a tricky thing, Junior. Navigating the psyche, the imaginary from reality can be difficult. What we saw could have been cooked up in that brain of yours.”
KJ clenched his jaw. “I ain’t making shit up. That was Svetlana. I know it. You know it. Guys? Back me up here.”
Merry and Lex looked to each other, and then gave an apologetic shrug.
“Sorry KJ,” Merry said.
“It’s difficult to tell,” Lex finished.
“China.”
KJ stared at Igor. The monks rarely spoke, and when they did, it was usually the absolute minimal amount of words possible.
“What?” KJ fired.
“China. She’s in China,” Igor replied as calm as a meadow stream, casting a sage gaze at each one of them.
“How the hell do you know that?” Nikolaj began.
“He’s right,” KJ interrupted. “When the connection broke, there was like, like a static. Residual memories randomly igniting. Images. Pools of water, but high up. Near the clouds. Green. And flowers. And farmers, Asian farmers in those funny hats. Igor—you’re sure? China?”
Igor nodded.
Leo dipped his head in agreement.
“Yes!” KJ nearly shouted. That’s what I’m fucking talking about. China. We go to China.”
“We go to China,” Nikolaj repeated. “Do you know how stupid you sound? China is massive, Junior. You’re just going to drop into China and ask for directions? You’re an idiot.”
“Look, boy genius. If we can connect from here, then if I can get closer maybe the bond will be stronger. Ergo, I go to China. You can keep your boring ass here if you like. I don’t need you. I have these guys. Right?” KJ looked expectantly at the other Stratum.
No one replied.
“Guys. C’mon, don’t leave me hanging.”
“I’ll go,” Catherine piped up from the corner.
KJ rolled his eyes. “You can’t come.”
“The hell I can’t,” she snapped back, the northern Irish accent becoming stronger with her irritation. “I’m the official journalist for the Stratum. Where you go, I go.”
KJ pursed his lips, which then turned into a one-sided grin. “Fine, but I’m not paying for an extra hotel room—you have to bunk with me.”
Catherine opened her mouth to retaliate but was interrupted by Lex.
“We’ll go along,” she said with a soft smile.
“For the ride,” Merry completed.
KJ gave a triumphant bang on the table with his fist.
The monks looked to each other and held a silent gaze. KJ assumed they were communicating telepathically, since they had the ability to block others out. Another neat trick learned at the monastery. Eventually, they turned their attention to KJ and gave an imperceptible affirmation.
“Fine,” Nikolaj conceded. “But, I’m going to keep your dumb ass out of trouble.”
Location: somewhere in China
Svetlana’s heart beat fiercely; so hard she could feel the pulse in her jugular. What the hell had just happened? she thought. She lay there on the damp mud, seemingly unable to move. Voices buzzed around above, and someone tugged at her arms, lifting her back to her feet. She swiveled her head around to make sense of her surroundings. The heat of anger subsided and was replaced with a longing pain in her chest.
The noise of her own thoughts faded and melded with the relentless whirr of the chopper rotors. Svetlana’s attention snapped into sharp relief. She was home. The helicopter had landed, and she’d been climbing out when the mental-attack hit. Too far from the compound to be protected by the psychic barrier—the only thing that had kept the Phalanx hidden for so long.
In the heat haze, a tall slender woman stormed toward Svetlana. While her features were masked in the shimmer, Svetlana knew who it was: Victoria, the Phalanx Mother.
“What the hell is wrong with her?” Victoria yelled at the chopper pilot as she approached.
“We don’t know Mother,” he replied. “She just collapsed.”
Victoria clasped a bony hand around Svetlana’s arm, her claw like nails digging through the fabric. Heat rose in Svetlana’s chest and her limbs tingled with adrenaline. The desire to rip the woman’s head off was overwhelming. But, as every time these thoughts filled her mind, they were pressed away. What would Victoria do to her, or worse her Phalanx? Svetlana swallowed away her pride.
“Move your incompetent self,” Victoria snarled.
Svetlana was tugged hard and pulled like a disobedient child toward the great temple. And much like a child, she ensured the progress was slow, dragging her feet and walking purposefully slowly along the main path, referred to by the Doyen as Miccaotli. The man’s penchant for old Nahuatl permeated everything. Miccaotli meant ‘Avenue of the Dead’; a famous path at Teotihuacan. In fact, he’d designed the whole compound as a tribute to the ancient Mesoamerican site. Covering more than twenty square kilometres, his complex—built on the Chinese mountainside—contained nearly 2,000 single-story apartment
compounds, and a multitude of pyramids, plazas, and temples all interspersed with reflecting pools connected by channels for the Huahuqui. The Doyen called his palace Tocayōtla, literally: namesake.
At the northern end of the Miccaotli was the Pyramid of the Moon. The second largest building, at more than forty meters high and 150 meters wide, played home to Victoria. It was the shrew-like woman’s very own shrine. And as such it remained empty of any other person and Huahuqui. The cold bitch kept herself isolated. Refusing to be bonded to a Huahuqui, she remained outside of the Phalanx hive mind. It made Svetlana trust the woman even less. Yet despite such inner hatred she was unable to disobey Victoria’s command.
They trudged along the wide stone path that cut its way through the sloped rice terraces and many reflecting pools of various sizes, toward the largest temple which sat just south of the Pyramid of the Moon. The colossal truncated step pyramid stood more than sixty meters high, 230 meters wide, and was adorned with numerous stone heads. At the site of Teotihuacan these heads were of Quetzalcoatl the feathered serpent, but here, in deference to the Nine Veils and their Phalanx, the carvings looked more like the Huahuqui.
As she began to climb the hundreds of steps to the top, Svetlana fixed her gaze on one of the stone heads. Its glossy, obsidian, eyes cast her convex reflection back. It seemed fitting: a distorted image that she knew was her, but somehow felt foreign. She’d stared at these inky black marbles many times as a child. They had been a fixing point when Mother publicly reprimanded her on the stairs of the Temple of Quetzalcoatl.
Their Phalanx Mother had tried all kinds of methods to establish control of the children and the Huahuqui, while still maintaining some lucidity so they were useful. LSD and other chemicals, hypnosis, sensory deprivation, isolation, verbal and even sexual abuse. Most of these techniques left the victims in a catatonic state at best. Svetlana couldn’t pinpoint when the torture had stopped, but one day it just did. Svetlana later learned that the Doyen had stepped in and decreed that the Phalanx’s devotion would come from understanding their place in the world and his ultimate vision. Their Mother had disagreed but was forced to find other means of control.
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