Children of the Fifth Sun

by Gareth Worthington

  “Coast’s clear. Let’s go.” Kelly pressed the accelerator, letting the truck fully emerge from the boathouse. Then, with a screech of rubber on concrete, they sped off into the dark.

  Location: Washington D.C., USA

  Alone in her room, the Secretary hovered over the dial button. She didn’t want to make the call, but she knew she must. It had been bugging her. Why was the Colonel leading the search party? It was not part of his command within the CDC. It made no sense. She’d gone back through the files on the creature and General Lloyd’s and the Chinese’s involvement. The facts were there. It was all true. But that was it—just bare facts, no details, and far too few files for such a project. The description of the cloning process alone comprised only a few steps. These things surely were more complicated, right? One day nothing and the next day a fully grown animal has developed? Something was missing.

  On top of this, she still had the words of the Chinese Minister ringing in her ears: Delay the U.S. military from finding the creature. She didn’t know what to do. She wanted to be patriotic. But what did that mean? She knew the answer. She had to work in the best interests of her country. That’s why she’d gotten into politics—to make a difference. If nothing else, she had to find some answers.

  Her finger pressed dial on the touch-sensitive panel. The ring tone hummed. Ten seconds passed and then twenty. She waited a bit longer, but there was no answer. Was he there? He was supposed to be available on demand.

  The screen flicked on. The Colonel appeared on the screen, looking slightly irritated and completely distracted.

  “Yes?” he demanded.

  The Secretary found a rare moment of anger within her. “I’ll thank you to remember with whom you are speaking.”

  “My apologies.” The Colonel flashed fake smile. ‘With what can I assist you?”

  “Information, Colonel. Information. I have been going over the files you sent. It appears incomplete. Do you have anything on the initial cloning attempts? I can’t seem to find anything.”

  The Colonel narrowed his eyes. “I sent you everything we could retrieve from Paradise Ranch, Madam Secretary. You know what I know.”

  “I highly doubt that, Colonel.”

  “I’m not sure what it is you want, Madam Secretary. Should your attention not be focused on the possibility of war with the Chinese and containing the virus?”

  “Indeed, it is, Colonel. In fact, my discussions with the Chinese Minister went better than expected.” Keeping up this level of confidence was draining. She wasn’t sure if he could see through it. But she had to carry on. “And for that reason, I need you to oversee the development of the antivirus. You need to be at the CDC facility.”

  “Madam Secretary, you must be aware I am in the middle of tracking General Lloyd and his team. I will be leaving soon on a transport.”

  “Yes, about that. Why would you be doing that? Your position heading up the CDC does not include a search and rescue remit. Or am I wrong?”

  “Madam Secretary, I know Benjamin Lloyd the best. My relationship with him will be an asset to the search team.” His voice broke.

  “Colonel, your place is with the CDC to oversee the antivirus development. Find someone else to lead the team. Or would you like me to inform the President you have abandoned your post at a time like this?”

  He pursed his lips. “Of course, Madam Secretary. I will find someone else.”

  “Thank you, Colonel. Do you need assistance moving from where you are?”

  “No, I’m in a secure facility in New Mexico outside the quarantine zone.”

  “Good.” She flicked off the screen and sat motionless, adrenaline coursing through her. God, that was nerve-wracking.

  She had managed to delay him, for a while. But she knew it wouldn’t stop him entirely. She needed to do something else. But what? The Secretary leaned forward again and tapped away at her console. The video link hummed. This time the reply was quick.

  “Yes, Madam Secretary? Can I help you?” The doctor stood in his lab surrounded by monitors and paperwork. His sleeves were rolled up, and his brow was laden with sweat. Clearly he had not managed any kind of rest.

  “Doctor Christian, are you any closer to creating an antidote?”

  “It’s taking time, Lucy—sorry, Madam Secretary—but we are moving closer. At the moment, I have a problem with delivery. I have to keep the virus at very low temperatures. It means everything runs slower. It’s a problem I’m trying to sort out. I just need more time.”

  She hesitated, but then said, “I know, I know. I’m sending the Colonel to oversee the last of the development.”

  “Lucy, I have been your brother for thirty-three years. You know I don’t need him here. What’s going on?” He stared directly into the camera.

  “Christian, I need you to do me a favor. I need you to trust me.”

  “Okay.”

  “When the Colonel gets there, I need you to stall him. He wants to go after the creature on his own. I don’t know why, but he isn’t telling the truth.”

  “What has that got to do with the virus and saving all these people?”

  “I said trust me. You asked me for time, and I’m asking you to return the favor. I just need to find out more. I need to go to the facility he was at. It doesn’t make sense. Why wasn’t he at the CDC headquarters anyway?”

  Christian paused for a moment. “It’s a good question.”

  “Exactly. I had a very interesting conversation with the Chinese Minister. I just need to investigate a little further. Get to the bottom of this.”

  “And how should I stall him?”

  “I don’t know, Christian. Just try, okay?” she pleaded. He couldn’t say no to his sister. Fact was, he’d never been very good at saying no to her even when they were kids.

  Christian nodded. “Okay.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be in touch soon.”

  “Take care, sis.” He clicked off the conversation.

  Location: Callao, Peru, South America

  Kelly killed the engine of the Hilux and let it roll to a soft stop. He pulled the handbrake and sat quietly. The moon overhead afforded some light. The tiny, private airfield in front of him didn’t look so secure. It was unassuming and had no barbed wire. Sure, there was a wall and a gate, but that was it. In the center was the hangar and off to its right was the single airstrip. Understandably, the owner didn’t want to draw too much attention. Kelly still knew in his bones somewhere in there would be a battalion of large Peruvian gangsters with very few morals and a whole lot of artillery.

  “I don’t like this,” Kelly whispered. “I’ve got serious nutflies.”

  Freya sighed. “What?”

  “You girls get butterflies in your stomach. Guys get them in our nuts. We feel them there. Nutflies.” Kelly didn’t look at her when speaking. It seemed perfectly logical to him.

  Freya raised an eyebrow but couldn’t be bothered to question his vocabulary further.

  “So what’s the plan?” Kelly asked.

  “Well, we have the key, which means we can sneak in quietly. I don’t want any bullshit from you. No charging in. Quietly. You understand?”

  “You got it.” Kelly saluted and climbed out of the car before mockingly closing the door as slowly as he could, clicking it shut.

  Freya had already exited and was watching him, arms folded across her chest. “Funny.”

  “What?” Kelly shrugged, grinned, and began his crouched skulk toward the airfield’s outer wall.

  Freya followed behind, one of her firearms drawn and held in both hands. They rested, backs against the wall, hidden in shadow. The moon’s light was not nearly bright enough to see properly. To their left, a large gate blocked the entrance to the airfield.

  “Do I get your other gun?”

  “It’s a Beretta. And no,” she replied.

  “Humph.”

  “Does your magical key work for the gate as well or only for the hangar?”

  There was
a lasting silence as it dawned on Kelly he hadn’t asked that particular question. “Umm ...”

  “Right. Of course you don’t know.” She held out one hand expectantly.

  Kelly pulled a keyring with two keys on it from his pocket and placed it in her palm. “Here.”

  Freya slid along the wall, never allowing her back to leave the brickwork. She reached the gate and, following a quick glance around, tried the lock. A dull thud confirmed that this was, in fact, not the gate key. Irritated, she pulled it from the keyhole and scurried back to Kelly. “Nope.”

  “Damn. Well, can’t win ‘em all! Let’s get over this wall. And I’m afraid you are going to have to give me a boost.” He smirked.

  “What?”

  “Well, no offence, but I don’t think you have the upper body strength to lift me if you go first. I’m gonna have to pull you up.”

  She wrinkled her nose. It was annoying when he was right. “Fine, just be quick about it.” Freya holstered her gun and braced against the wall, bending her knees and locking her fingers together to create a makeshift foothold. “Okay, go.”

  He unceremoniously put a dirty boot in her hands and pushed up until he could reach the top edge of the brickwork. Using his free foot and the wall as a launch pad, he attempted to propel himself upward. It was to no avail. He shook his head and sheepishly placed the other boot on Freya’s shoulder. She groaned under his weight, clenching her eyelids together.

  As she opened her eyes, something caught her attention. Two men were circling the truck that had been left behind on the other side of the road. She peered through the murk, trying to make out who they were. A brief scan to their left made everything clear. The police. Shit. They were radioing in the license plate. There must have been a BOLO out following the incident on the highway.

  “Kelly, we have a problem.”

  “I know. You are way too lady-like. I need a Russian shot putter.”

  “Actually, our problem is on the other side of the road.”

  No sooner had the words left her lips than the officers spotted the would-be burglars scaling the outer wall. One man shouted into his radio while the other bolted toward them, a flashlight in hand, its beam flailing left and right with his gait.

  “Fuck!” Adrenaline coursing through him, Kelly gave an almighty thrust and heaved up onto the wall. On his knees, he reached down with one arm. “Grab it. C’mon.”

  Freya complied, scrambling up the wall as Kelly hauled her up.

  “Now jump!” he yelled.

  Several bullets ricocheted off the wall as they leapt down to the tarmac on the other side. Without stopping, they charged toward the hangar, leaving the police officer cursing and unable to pursue.

  A burst of yellow blinded them as a searchlight atop a small control tower erupted into life. Several men sprayed the ground with ammunition from the tower’s windows.

  “Run!” Kelly grabbed Freya’s hand and dragged her in his wake.

  She struggled to keep up, tripping every few feet and then stumbling back into his meteoric pace. They slammed into the metal doors of the hangar. Freya fumbled with the padlock, wincing and flinching as bullets squealed on the metalwork about her head. Kelly grabbed the spare Beretta from her holster and opened fire in the general direction from which the onslaught of lead was coming. His single shots were pathetic in comparison with the constant and unforgiving rain of destruction pouring down all around him.

  “Got it.” She threw the padlock away and shoved the sliding door upward, momentum carrying it to a fully open position.

  Freya turned to leap inside but yelped as a bullet scathed her right thigh, sending her sprawling into the ground.

  Kelly grabbed her and yanked her into the cover of the hangar. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, it’s just a graze.” Freya pawed at the open slit in her flesh. “Damn, I bet that’s gonna scar.”

  “Don’t worry. Just gives guys an excuse when they get caught staring at your legs.” He winked and then tugged at her arm once again. “C’mon, we gotta move.”

  The G650 stood majestically in the middle of the hangar. Kelly froze where he stood, letting go of Freya’s arm to stare in awe. It was regal. More than one-hundred feet long with a wing span equally as wide, it had a long, elegant nose cone balanced by two sleek nacelles at the rear. The machine glowed pearlescent white in the dim light.

  Freya had already opened the side door and was ascending the stairs. “C’mon!”

  He shook off his boyish wonder and ran after her up the staircase, closing the door behind him. The interior was even more impressive than the exterior—cream leather everything, black glass tables, and wine coolers. Kelly thought these things only existed in cartoons or movies. He cursed the advantages of being a drug-peddling criminal and stepped through the door into the cockpit.

  “This thing’s got a Gulfstream PlaneView II avionics system. It’ll practically fly itself.” Freya’s excitement grew as she pressed buttons and flicked switches, commanding the twin Rolls-Royce engines to roar into life. The aircraft edged forward. “Sit down. This is going to get bumpy.”

  For the first time, Kelly did as he was told. He strapped in and sat wide-eyed at the array of colorful monitors. He didn’t know what it all meant, but he didn’t have to fly the damn thing.

  “Here we go.” She slid a lever forward, and the jet accelerated.

  As soon as the nose emerged from the hangar it was showered with bullets. The cockpit glass remained remarkably unscathed.

  “Clever bastard must have had bulletproof glass installed.”

  “I guess,” Freya shouted over the roar of the engine. She swung the plane around and pointed it down the runway. The echo of bullets on the hull shifted from the nose to the left flank.

  “Punch it!”

  Freya shoved the accelerator. The jet powered forward, throwing its crew back in their seats. The clatter of shrapnel waned as the plane pulled away and upward into the sky. Kelly saw the flashing blue lights of the police surrounding the abandoned truck and the infuriated skyward-firing gunmen in the tower.

  “Where are we headed?”

  “Egypt,” Kelly replied.

  “Yes, I know that, smartass.” She sighed. “I meant, where in Egypt?”

  “Cairo West Airport. It’s about thirty-four miles outside of Cairo. They take chartered planes and business flights. I have a buddy there. We’ll have no problem landing.”

  Location: U.S. submarine, somewhere in the Pacific Ocean

  Tremaine stared at K’in. The strange animal lay asleep on the floor of its tank, half submerged in water. It looked different now compared with what he had seen back at Paradise Ranch. Its skin was now a fully opaque milky white. Eyelids had formed to shield its retinas from the sunlight, and its gills were a deep scarlet. They billowed outwards and then fell back to a resting position with each breath the creature took. It shook slightly, shivering.

  The Shadow Man reached out one of his huge hands to touch the creature. His dark, thick fingers drew close to the contrasting white skin of the animal’s head. What was all the fuss about? What did it mean to touch this thing? The temptation to make contact was overwhelming. But he couldn’t. He just didn’t trust it. Kelly trusted it and so did Freya. And she trusted Kelly, which annoyed Tremaine. He’d spent years protecting her, and that damn fool gets her respect in days. He grunted away the feeling and slowly pulled his hand back, careful not to disturb the air around K’in. As he took an awkward step backward, K’in jerked awake. Caught unaware, Tremaine fell and smashed onto the cold floor. K’in quickly sprang onto all fours and padded over to the fallen man. The creature positioned himself over Tremaine’s body and pushed his face directly in front of the man’s. He stared into his eyes, blinking as he did so, cocking his head to one side and then the other like a curious plumed bird. Tremaine stared back. His body frozen. Not in fear but confusion. What did it want? He propped himself up on his elbows, bringing his face closer to the animal’s. K’
in blinked again and sniffed at the Shadow Man’s skin. A final blink and the animal quickly reversed, span around, and waddled back to its low-lying tank. He climbed inside and lay back down, tail folded around his body, head resting on his forelimbs.

  Tremaine climbed to his feet and pulled his clothes straight. Strange little creature. It was time some other fool watched the goddamn thing. He wasn’t a babysitter, or dog sitter, or fish sitter, or whatever kind of sitter there was for that thing. He marched over to the heavy metallic door and pulled it open, stepped into the hallway, and beckoned one of the submariners.

  “You watch it for a while.”

  The soldier nodded.

  Tremaine shook his head and continued along the corridor.

  * * *

  The XO, General, and Wiezorek were huddled around the interactive navigation table. An illuminated map of the Pacific Ocean lit the room with a faint green glow.

  “Mr. Tremaine.” The General acknowledged his subordinate as he entered the room.

  “Sir, I’m sorry, but you have to get someone else to babysit the big fish. I think it’s sick or something. It just sits in its tank shivering.” Tremaine huffed and placed both hands palm down on the table. “Something’s not right.”

  “I would agree, but we have bigger problems right now, Mr. Tremaine. It seems we are being hunted, not only by the Chinese, but by our own government. A few faithful men on the surface have kept me informed. It seems one of the original team, Colonel Robertson, has taken it upon himself to find me.”

  “So what’s the plan?” Tremaine asked, expectantly.

  “At the moment, we keep out of sight. We need to protect the creature and keep it from both our government and our enemies. We have to wait until Freya can provide more information regarding a new orb.” The General motioned his head toward the XO. “Executive Officer Teller and I were just discussing options. If we found the Chinese down here, then they can find us. We are working on a strategy to stay undetected.”

  “And we just let Nilsson and Graham fend for themselves?” The Shadow Man’s face was as deadpan as ever, but his gaze contained genuine concern.