The Rebirths of Tao

by Wesley Chu

  She turned back to him. “You’re grounded too.”

  “What? You can’t ground me. I’m your husband.”

  She fixed him an eye and dared him to say another word.

  Roen shrank back. “For how long?”

  “For life. Or until I say so. And you, Cameron, you aren’t to leave this warehouse until after we get back from the –”

  Cameron went up to his mother and cut her off by giving her a hug. He then patted Roen on the shoulder. “I’ll let you explain to Mom. Have fun.” Grinning, his ingrate of a son fled the roof, leaving a bewildered Jill.

  “What did he mean by that, Roen?” she asked.

  Roen took a deep breath and prayed he was going to survive this conversation.

  40

  Insertion Point

  The Prophus are aware of the consequences of Quasiform, because we know our nature. We are fighting against our instincts, which are to consume a planet and mold it into our own image. That is our truth.

  Earth is a unique circumstance. It took a long time, but many of us have learned to respect and love the indigenous species of this world, something that has taken millions of years to cultivate. Therefore, this time, we must fight our nature.

  Tao

  * * *

  Get closer to the meeting. I need to hear what the plan is.

  Cameron, sitting in the far back of the transport, was looking out the rear porthole. He glanced over at the front, where all the adults were hanging out. Marco was going over last-minute tactics with them as the Chinook sped toward the Genjix loyalty haven. He caught sight of his mother and shrank inside his armor like a turtle retreating into his shell.

  First thing we do when we get out of sight is get rid of this outer jacket.

  “Thank God. I can’t even put my arms down wearing all this stuff.”

  Once Roen had decided that he couldn’t stop Cameron from going, his father had cocooned him in a triple layer of armor, as if bundling him up for a blizzard. Now, Cameron looked like one of those kids swaddled by their overly-protective parents for their first day of school. With all this gear, he wasn’t sure he could roll himself back to his feet if he fell down.

  When Jill found out about Roen losing the bet to Cameron, and that she couldn’t do anything to stop him from going, she blew her top and went on a complete tear, threatening to lock him in the warehouse basement until he turned twenty-one. When he pointed out that the warehouse didn’t have a basement, the conversation went even further downhill. At one point, she threatened to shoot him in the leg to prevent him from going.

  You probably should not have said it was my idea.

  “It was though!”

  And bringing up Vercingetorix was a mistake, considering he died pretty young.

  “That was your idea, too! Man, Tao, you’re getting me in trouble.”

  I admit I did not handle this situation well. At least you’re going, though.

  At least there was that. For some reason, Cameron knew he had to be on this mission. Maybe because he knew his dad couldn’t beat Jacob without him, or maybe it was to prove to his father that he was a man. Maybe he felt like he had to redeem himself for what that asshole Jacob did to him and Mom. Or maybe it was because he felt so betrayed by Alex. That last thought particularly stung.

  He gripped his rifle tightly and pulled it close to his body. Well, he deserved answers, and he was going to get them if he had to attack the damn Genjix base to get them. He wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but Alex had hurt him so badly he cried. Thank God no one saw that.

  I saw it.

  “You don’t count.”

  I tried to warn you about her.

  “You’re not helping.”

  But nope, teenage humans. The worst, most ill-conceived creatures in the universe.

  “Other than turkeys, right?”

  Yes, nothing beats those morons. Some of the worst hosts on Earth. But seriously, get up to the front so I can hear what’s going on.

  “I don’t want to. I need to hide from Mom until we leave the helicopter. She might still find some way to chain me to a railing.”

  Tao flashed an image of a vast desert inside Cameron’s head. It was midday, and the sun felt like it was roasting his skin. The outer metal of the tank he was perched on scalded him as the tank rumbled and whirled up and down sand dunes. He covered his eyes with his hands and looked into the distance, then he looked back at where he had come from. Nothing but pristine dunes. Even the tank tracks he had made were already covered with more sand.

  The sun hammering down on his back was unbearable, so he climbed into the hatch. The solace of darkness lasted only a few seconds as the oven that was the inside of the tank made it hard to breathe. A few minutes later, he had to climb back out for air. This back and forth happened a dozen more times, and then the tank ran out of gas.

  One of my previous hosts decided that he would let his tank commander take care of all the plans while he napped. Tank commander got shot through the eye. Host made a wrong turn during the retreat. Get my drift?

  “Wow, that sucked. Don’t show me stuff like that again, especially before we go into a situation where I might die.”

  Trust me. Any death you might suffer here is far better than getting baked to death.

  “Not making me feel better, Tao.”

  Just get your ass up to the front.

  With only a slight pout, Cameron dragged himself closer to where all the grown-ups were huddled, avoiding Jill’s glare. He settled into a seat behind Faust and looked out the port window again at the vast Canadian forests.

  Faust interrupted Marco during the summary. “Are we really only going in one way? With only one entrance, it’ll be a death trap.”

  Marco nodded. “It won’t be easy. Based on the satellite footage, there’s four ways down: three stairs, one elevator. The ones taking the elevator will have to rappel down. The good news with that setup is that once we get down to the main base, they can’t trap us in a corner, since we’re coming in from all four sides. The other good news is, because we’re in an underwater facility with pressurized air, I think it’s pretty safe to say neither side will use explosives.”

  “We’ve been far dumber before,” Roen piped in.

  The entire group chuckled, except for Jill. She looked his way, and her already-stern face darkened even more. Cameron knew when to tread carefully when his mom was this way. Unfortunately for Roen – er, Dad, he reminded himself – he sometimes was too much of a blockhead. She already wasn’t talking to either of them.

  Technically, you outrank Roen anyway.

  “Well, don’t make me give him orders. He won’t take it well.”

  Oh, we will never play that card. He is much more easily cajoled into doing what needs to be done than ordered.

  The meeting went on for another twenty minutes. The most recent satellite images were beamed over to the transport, faint structural imaging of the underwater base. It was much larger than initially estimated, and Marco worried that they were biting off more than they could chew. The attack force could be severely outnumbered.

  Minutes later, two more Chinooks pulled up to their starboard side, and the three of them moved into formation to speed over the Great Slave Lake. Cameron’s stomach began to churn, and he felt the urge to throw up. He clenched his hands to keep them from shaking and tried to stay calm. He had never felt these sorts of butterflies before. What made this mission any different than the ones he had run with his father over the past year?

  There is a big difference. You might not have known this, but you were in absolutely zero danger during all those jobs. Roen saw to that. This is an entirely different beast.

  “You aren’t making me feel better.”

  Throw up if you’d like. I told you not to have all those pancakes for breakfast.

  “Everyone else did.”

  Did you see anyone else go for thirds?

  “Well, Uncle Marco, Faust, and Dad had some scotch before t
hey got on the transport. I’m guessing that’s probably not very good for them.”

  That is a different story.

  The platform came into view a few minutes later. Four grayish metal beams were sticking out of the center of the lake, making up the corners of a large metal platform. The three transports circled the metal towers a few times, closing in until they were following each other in a tight triangular formation, with each front of one transport pointing at the tail of another. Then, synchronously, they lowered and came to a rest on the platform. All the agents jumped out into the middle, using the three transports as a barrier.

  Cameron stepped out onto the platform and was hit with a blast of Arctic wind. He inhaled the chilly air into his lungs, shaking himself out of his numb stupor. This was the real deal. He was going to go fight the Genjix, not just tag along, hide in the woods, and snipe at federal agents with a hard-shell tranquilizer rifle.

  He watched as his dad greeted a chubby red-faced old man. It took him a few moments to realize it was Uncle Dylan. It had only been two years since he had last seen Uncle Dylan, and retirement did not suit him at all. He had gained some weight, and his face was an unhealthy shade of red and purple. He carried a limp, and waddled almost as if he were pregnant.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Roen cried, throwing his arms around Dylan, giving the big man a rough embrace. Dylan, now well into his sixties, was Roen’s only surviving mentor. The others – Sonya, Stephen, Paula – had long fallen in battle. Each of their deaths had hurt Roen very badly, and he had been particularly happy when Dylan had announced his retirement.

  Dylan tousled Roen’s hair. His father would never allow anyone else to tousle his hair like that. “Meredith gave me access to mission updates. Saw you were going on a batshit suicide mission. Couldn’t let my boy do that alone, could I? Pulled in a ton of favors and got smuggled back into the States. Had to fly across the Pacific on a cargo plane and everything. By the time I got here, the whole fiasco was called off, thank God. Was an awful plan to begin with. Anyway, then I caught wind of this little operation, so I thought, hell, I’m already here, might as well.” He spread his arms out and beamed at Jill. “My girl, you look finer with every passing year. I’m still gobsmacked this guy landed you.” He gave her a bear hug, lifting her off the ground and twirling her. He turned, and his wide grin brightened even more when he saw Cameron. “Well fuck a duck, Cameron!” Dylan exclaimed holding his arms out. He wrapped Cameron up as well. “I can’t believe your ma let you come.”

  “She didn’t,” Jill said, her eyes darkening. “And I’d appreciate you watching your language around my son.”

  “The whole damn crew off to see an old mate on his last hurrah, eh?”

  “It’s not always about you, Dylan, no matter how much you wish it were,” Marco said.

  Dylan nodded and shook his hand. “And always a stuffy one to ruin the festivities.”

  A heavily-armored agent – one of several from Dylan’s transport carrying riot shields – approached. “Insertion points are ready, Colonel. All the doors are cut open. Even if these columns could lower, the Genjix wouldn’t dare anymore. Ready on your go.”

  Dylan nodded. “Split into your teams. Coordinate through all the hosts. Operation Saeftinghe is a go.”

  Cameron looked at his mother; she and Marco were team leaders. Dad was probably going to be with her as well. For a second, he considered asking if he could go with Dylan instead. His mother probably would put him in the far back. He hadn’t come this far not to see any action after all.

  You have so much to learn.

  Roen came up to him from behind and put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, pal, I have an important job for you. We need to make sure our exit points are secure and open at all times. The squad assigned to guard the transports is a little short-handed. I want you to shore up their ranks.”

  Cameron’s heart sank. He wouldn’t be allowed to participate in the attack after all. He wasn’t even going to make it down into the base. Might as well have just stayed at home. “Dad,” he pleaded. “Come on. Let me prove to you I can do this.”

  “You already have, son. I’m tremendously proud of you.” Roen’s voice caught a little. “Being a soldier requires being on the front line and also taking care of the rear. I need you up here. It’s an important job.”

  “But the Adonis…” Cameron stammered, trying to weasel any excuse to join the main attack.

  “I will call for you if we encounter Adonis Vessels,” Roen said.

  “Tao, do something! Order him to let me go down with the others. You know he’s not going to let me do anything.”

  He is right. This is a lesson I had to teach your father as well. Guarding the escape point for the entire mission is as important as any job.

  “What happened to all that big talk about me being ready?”

  This is all part of the experience. I agree with your father sliding you softly into these roles, especially with your recent distractions.

  Cameron swallowed the retort he was about to throw at both his father and Tao. “Fine, Dad.”

  Roen put his hand on Cameron’s shoulder. “I couldn’t wish for a better kid. I can’t say it enough. Keep your ears on the comms. If things go poorly, get out of here and live to fight another day. Got it?”

  Cameron bit his lip and nodded. Roen pulled him in and squeezed tightly before walking away. Just then, his mother blindsided him with her own hug, her face moist with tears.

  “You are so grounded when we get back, but I love you, Cam. Listen to Gwenda. Do whatever she says. I’ll see you topside in a few.”

  Cameron watched as, one by one, the Prophus agents entered the four metal columns. The bulk of the teams went down the three sets of stairs while a smaller team rappelled down the elevator door they forced open. In a few moments, he was alone with the pilots and the squad of three agents guarding the helicopter.

  “Commander,” Gwenda approached, bowing. “It’s an honor to meet you and Tao, sir.”

  “Uh, thanks?”

  A host is always a commander. Act your rank.

  “I’m stationing you at the elevator doors, sir. Keep on comm channel nine, and please follow my orders at all times.”

  Cameron nodded and watched as she left him to relay instructions to the pilots.

  “Some commander I turned out to be.”

  One day, you will learn that assignments like this usually are the best. Let us just hope that today is not that day.

  41

  The Attack

  The Quasing have always been able to predict the future. Time is cyclical, and for thousands of years, events have regularly repeated themselves. As much as humanity has changed, it has for the most part stayed the same. The way we treat humans now is similar to how we treated them when they first discovered fire. The power struggles, strategies, and manipulations we ran during the Mesopotamian era were similar to the ones we ran during World War II. That has always been the key; humans were always a constant.

  This is no longer the case. Now they know us. The pattern has been broken.

  Zoras

  * * *

  Enzo watched the red blip approach from the south on an intercept course toward the Four Towers, which was what the base workers called the landing pad. It was soon joined by two additional dots heading from the east. Soon, the three dots moved into formation and closed in on the loyalty haven. Enzo was willing to wager that it was the Prophus.

  He didn’t know how they had found this base, but it couldn’t have been a coincidence that a Prophus attack force appeared shortly after the bulk of his operatives left to reinforce the catalyst facility, especially since Jacob had just delivered the scientist here. It could be the Canadian military, though the last time he had had a strength analysis done on North America, Canada’s armed forces ranked just slightly below the New York City Police Department. In any case, shooting these invaders down over the water would be a simple task. Far easier to destroy a
nd cover up than bury knowledge of the haven’s location.

  “Coen,” he said carelessly, not looking away from the screen. “Get men up to the platform with shoulder-mounted missiles and blow them out of my sky.”

  “Uh, Father?” Coen replied.

  “Have a diving unit prepped as well. I want bodies pulled and identified. See who we’re dealing with.”

  “Um, I’m sorry, Father, but we don’t have any missiles. In fact, we don’t even have any grenades. It’s a haven directive from Councilman Vinnick. None of the underwater havens are allowed any explosives, not even a self-destruct.”

  That would make sense, though probably inopportune at this time. In hindsight, maybe sabotaging the platform was short-sighted.

  Enzo frowned and turned to the Coen. “Nothing?”

  “Not even C4.”

  “Well then,” Enzo said, gesturing to Azumi and walking briskly toward the armory. “We do it the old-fashion way. Sound the alarm. I want all personnel armed; my people first.”

  Coen hurried after him. “I’ll send security up to the platform to keep them at bay.”

  Enzo turned on him. “What do you think will happen when you send forces up to the platform with no cover, armed with only small arms, with the wind howling, in total darkness? They won’t see the enemy; they won’t hear the enemy. They’ll be cut down like target practice. So no, you will not give that order. In fact, you will not relay any order unless I expressly give it. Do you understand?”

  Coen bowed in submission. “Yes, Father. Apologies.”

  “Good. Have your security forces ready to move on my command. Lock down the command center with a kill switch on my order.” Enzo turned and walked toward his quarters.

  With the speed of the three incoming bogies, he had less than twenty minutes to organize what was left of his people. Who knew how many of the enemy was coming? Who knew which enemy it was? It didn’t matter. Neither the Prophus nor the IXTF, nor the Canadian military, for that matter – he chuckled at the thought – had Adonis Vessels. It was the Goths trying to match swords with the Roman legions all over again. Enzo was looking forward to this.