by JK Franks
Henry, though, was beyond that, So far, it didn’t seem aggressive, except when it fed. The blocks of special chemical compounds that the creature needed for nourishment were pounced on like a starving cat going after a mouse. Lately, it had been eating and growing at a phenomenal rate. She wanted to urge it to maturity where maybe it would give up other data they desperately craved. The real key was when she had tried communicating with it. On some level, she knew Henry knew what she wanted, what she needed. Inside his genes, he carried the secrets of a civilization. Knowledge theoretically from beyond the stars, yet it was up to him when to offer that up.
Instead, Thera had taken to talking to the animal about humans, particularly about her and Kissa. More than once, when she’d mentioned Kissa, she had an image of him flash through her mind. It was brief and could have easily been dismissed as her subconscious recalling a very vivid memory, but the images were not scenes that the two had ever shared.
One was Kissa underwater alone, obviously searching for something. Another was him on a boat covered in purple looking blood and holding a weapon. Henry was communicating with her, and not just her, either, it seemed. Since coming out of the creche, the SS4 had never left this lab so…it was communicating with some of the lesser creations as well. Occasionally, Thera would feel a probing, questioning sensation when she looked into its eyes. If this was indeed how it communicated, it was not intrusive. She seemed to have control over what it saw. She had to willingly allow it to see her own memories.
Through a series of cause and effects, she learned to offer up more memories of her world, and occasionally, Henry would share more of his. To some degree, this was what Thrall had asked her to do, but none of it was recorded in her notes. Thera could sense the unease from Henry each time any of the other lab techs were nearby, and when Thrall or the Asian man, Pax, came into the lab, it was like an icy steel curtain went up between her and the Saraph.
So, Henry didn’t seem to trust them or didn’t want to share whatever it knew. Thera had let it see her own kidnapping, and it seemed to sense the fear she had, particularly of Pax Ruan. Thera had no illusions that she or Kissa would ever be leaving this vessel alive. “What are you thinking, Henry?” Three of the five dark black eyes studied her; the other two rotated in their sockets toward a window to the outside.
The floor had been tilting up slightly on one side for about half an hour. Thera had learned that this was when the Kalypso was transitioning from one depth to another. How a craft this large could stay down this long or maneuver defied her understanding of what was possible. Still, it offered a marine biologist a perfect research lab. That is, if she wasn’t being threatened daily. “Astra, what is our current depth and position?” She’d learned to make requests of the ship's computer whenever she needed. It would not always offer up specific information, such as locations of Thrall or Pax, but otherwise, was a very handy resource.
“Good morning, Doctor Otera. The Kalypso is currently at 9382 feet and ascending at ten degrees. I am not permitted to give additional information as to our exact geospatial location.”
Henry was staring up at where the computer-generated voice came out of the overhead speaker. It tilted its head, almost like a dog might do, if the dog had the face of a gremlin and small, fin-shaped winglets for ears. One of Thera’s abilities was to listen in on the underwater world through a series of acoustic sensors embedded around the Kalypso. Several times she had heard clicks of dolphins and the ultra low calls of whales, some of which she was certain had been distress calls. There was enough familiarity that she was fairly certain they were still in the Caribbean, or perhaps the adjacent Atlantic. While she could sense when the ship changed elevation, the sensation of all other movement was lost. Through the decking, there was an almost constant vibration and sense of inertia. She’d gotten used to it in just a few hours, but when she thought about it, her senses would register it again distinctly. That feeling did not impart any sense of direction, though, simply movement.
Henry’s head rotated and stared up at the ceiling to the left. It lingered several minutes, then snapped its head back to lock eyes with hers. Instantly, she had visions. She was underwater, deep in the ocean, but not alone—divers. An earlier version of the Saraph preparing to attack. What does that mean? Is that really happening somewhere up there? Is someone coming to help? Ideas flooded her head, this time all her own. Then one more from the SS4: Kissa confined in a small windowless room. She knew instantly where the room was, even though she’d never been to that part of the ship. Then an image of a hand moving across a key panel. She committed the long sequence to memory. She wanted to thank Henry aloud but knew Astra would be listening and recording everything. If she were correct, the animal didn’t rely on auditory senses, anyway. Mentally, she sent an image of her offering him lots of food blocks. It was the most positive thing she could think of. “I’ll be back soon, need to go check on some other experiments.” With that, she moved away and headed for the door.
79
Caribbean
“Sweet Baby Jesus, Nomad. What in the holy fuck is that?” Alias asked.
Rising up from the abyss was another Saraph, the blue light emanating from its pulsing abdomen nearly blinding in the sea of darkness. “Alias, I think we’ve been entertaining the babies, that must be mama bear.”
“Well, the babies are ripping us apart. WarHawk is down to half strength.” Deuce said.
Cade keyed his comms to contact Riley and Alex far above, “Cutter, monitor these feeds. We have a new bogey, and it’s larger than any of the others. If we don’t make it, you get your team out of there, don’t be heroes. Riley, we’re going to need some rescue craft in here soon. I have some incapacitated divers probably headed to the surface.”
Both women acknowledged, as Cade was already running through team dynamics and what resources they had available. Tactical advantages…umm, few. The Saraphs seemed to be ignoring the XOD suits where the occupants were incapacitated. So, they stunned their prey, then moved on to others to hunt. How did that help him? And then he knew—well, he had a crazy idea of how.
“Dee, can you give me control over another diver's suit?” He knew the suit’s own built-in combat AI had an autonomous mode. It had been designed primarily to get an unconscious diver out of impending danger.
“They were not designed that way, Nomad. Allow me to interface with the suit's internal AI.”
“Dee, who’s carrying the lancets?”
“Greg, Deuce, and Pyro,” came the instant reply. Cade checked his displays for their location. Greg and Deuce were close enough, and both were yellow indicating the diver was at least partially incapacitated. Pyro’s suit was flickering between yellow and red on his display and seemed to be one of those heading topside.
“Suits are now enabled for autonomous mode on your command authority, Captain.” Dee answered in her inappropriately cheery British voice.
“Great, thanks.” Decision made, he informed Alias of the plan. The other man was less enthusiastic about it but agreed with the order. “Suit, engage autonomous mode.” His own suit seemed baffled by the command. After all, it had a target approaching fast and a larger enemy not far behind. He had to confirm multiple times before the suit complied. “Dee, give me control of Greg.”
Instantly, his faceplate display showed what Greg was seeing. The HUD was flashing yellow and red for eminent threat. Cade canceled the alert and the evasive maneuver the suit had planned to execute. The Saraph was glowing brilliantly and closing to within a hundred meters. Tentacles whipped about, and he could now see the razor-like, hooked claws at the end of several of them. Carefully, he reached back remotely on Greg’s suit and grasped the lancet. “Alias, you in?”
“Yes, sir, and by the way, your friend snores.”
“No surprise, just take care of him, that’s his body you’re fighting with. Remember that.” Cade then ordered those who could to prepare for the beast coming up from below. It was up to him and Alias t
o deal with these first two. He could now see a dark stain trailing from the Saraph. Some countermeasures had found their mark. They injured it; hopefully, that slowed it down some. Watching it move, though, he was pretty sure they had just pissed it off. He felt Greg spasm violently, the suit struggling to compensate. The damn thing was blasting neural waves at the boy. “Hang in their, kid!”
The lancet was a four-foot long rod of polysteel, only a few millimeters thick, but incredibly strong with a lethal tip. It reminded Cade of a tactical baton, and, just like one, it extended out to more than twice its initial length. As the final section locked into place, a blue arc ran along that section. A supercharged plasma beam fired along a razor thin line on both sides of the baton, creating a wicked cutting edge.
The Saraph closed to within twenty feet, then began attacking with tentacles and claws. It was all Cade could do not to stare into the glowing open mouth full of what had to be needle-like teeth. The suit automatically defended itself against the first attack. One tentacle lashed out with lightning speed only to be severed as it reached around the suit. Greg’s suit’s AI fired multiple darts into the animal but had no effect. Cade felt the suit jolt as a blow hit on the back of the helmet. Don’t forget that is a boy you are using as a weapon, Cade. The internal voice of Gus was calming but unnecessary.
He felt his own suit jets maneuvering and knew it was engaging in an attack as well. It was disorienting to try to accomplish what he was doing. He idly wondered if Gus could handle his suit while he ran Greg’s, but dismissed the thought as a massive claw arched down carving a gouge out of Greg’s face shield. Cade swung up with both hands, gripping the lancet and slicing off two arms of the beast. He felt an impact in his back and a searing pain, realizing this was inside his own suit. Alias, get this thing off of me! he thought, Alias using Deuce to fight and he using Greg.
“Kalypso is detected, three thousand meters and closing.”
Cade registered the fact distractedly as suit warnings in Greg’s HUD began going red one after the other. The damn thing had both of the massive dive suit's arms gripped tightly in its tentacles. Looking to the side, Cade could see they looked like massive tree limbs, one side covered in barbed, rimmed suckers. Each of the Saraph’s tentacles wrapping around Greg’s arms were as thick as a man’s thigh. They rippled and coiled with muscles like a constricting boa. Cade kicked out but contacted nothing. The alarms inside the suit increased, then distantly, he heard alarms inside his own suit begin to trill.
The Saraph he was fighting seemed intent on pulling Greg in half. They had trained for this. What was the play? “Suit, execute…” Shit, he couldn’t think of the command. He was aware now of the Saraph attacking him and Alias. It was using its neural blast on him. “Riley, help, take over…”
“Suit, set defense condition Alpha,” he heard over the open channel into Greg’s XOD. The suit covering shield of supercharged energy instantly increased multiple times, almost maxing out the small PICA power supply. The Saraph instantly recoiled, almost like it had grabbed a hot pan from the stove. Riley then initiated a movement with the lancet, twirling it nearly faster than Cade could see. She drove Greg’s suit into the retreating beast, carving off chunks and limbs and then eye stalks and finally, portions of its massive body. She continued pressing the attack until dark blood filled the viewscreen and the last of the blue light faded to dark.
“Target one neutralized,” the helpful Battle Computer announced.
“Thanks, Riles,” Cade said, exhausted and in pain as his presence was once again firmly back in his own suit where he was looking into the gaping maw of a glowing mouth. Instinctively, he swung up with the lancet weapon only to remember his suit didn’t have that. He was pretty much defenseless.
“Alias, get this mother fucker off me! Do what Riley did,” he said, then realizing the man had no idea of what the girl had done. “Riley, can you help him?”
“This is Alan, Riley is helping Greg, he needs some patching up right now. His suit was compromised. Taking Alias’s position in three.”
“Whoa!” Alias said, returning to his own suit. Alan was now commanding Deuce’s XOD, and the kid knew how to use it. Where Alias had been focusing on the back of the animal’s head and tentacles, Alan jetted below and then blasted to full power on a slicing run through the glowing underbelly. The Saraph jerked back and moved to engage its attacker, but Alan had already maneuvered to one side and launched the lancet deep into the face of the animal. Cade had forgotten the baton could be used as a throwing weapon. It would return to the suit once inertia was canceled. Unfortunately, it left Alan defenseless during the interval.
“Target three within 500 meters.” His suit was suggesting evasive maneuvers at once. Cade could already see the glow filling the lower third of his face shield. “Dee, supercharge my suit like we did with Greg’s.”
“Charging.”
The smaller Saraph was nearly on top of Alan/Deuce. The lancet had fallen away from the glowing gash and was slowly returning to Alan’s outstretched hand.
“Ready,” Dee announced.
Cade put his own suit at full speed, blasting through a forest of tentacles and onto the beast. He hooked in with specialized grips and felt the raw power of the animal. He guessed the actual body was about the size of an elephant, maybe two, and it bucked like a rodeo bronco. Razor claws and tentacles whipped wildly about. One caught him in the shoulder as another came out of the darkness directly at his face. “Be ready, Alan!” He triggered the discharge.
Immediately, the Saraph reared back, arching its back to get rid of the interloper. Alan, snatching his lancet from the water, fired it and sliced into the midsection in an arcing cut that ended just under the mouth. The light dimmed, and the outer shell of the creature fell away.
Cade’s suit informed him, “Target two neutralized. Suit integrity is marginal. Target three is…”
“Will you shut the fuck up? I see the goddamn thing.” Cade stared as the house-sized creature filled his field of vision in every direction. What in the fuck had I been thinking to come up with this plan?
80
Texas
The thick man twitched nervously as Margaret moved around behind where he was sitting. “You are the personal driver for Mister Goldman?”
He nodded enthusiastically, “Si, si…yes.” The security team had already pulled up the man’s driver’s license, customs papers, and a considerable amount of travel history. To Margaret, it was all irrelevant, more stagecraft.
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know, he left early.”
“Does he do that often?”
“Si, very often. He is a very busy man,” the man said.
“And you are the only staff here at the house?” she asked.
“Most days, yes. He has a private chef come in several days a week and a housekeeper every Thursday. He likes a small operation.”
The man appeared to be in his early fifties with a pronounced accent, but one that indicated many years here in the U.S. “Is it often he leaves without leaving you any instructions or timing for his return?”
The driver, whose name was Juan, seemed to consider that question. “It’s not unheard of, but he will normally call later and give me instructions. Somewhat unusual…yes, maybe.” He looked around, terrified of the men and guns. “I’m…I in trouble?”
Doris wanted her attention, and Margaret was pretty sure she knew the reason. “Yes, Juan, you are in trouble.”
The man seemed to recoil at the knowledge, then sagged as if in resignation.
The director moved to the far side of the room and addressed the three soldiers guarding the man. “If he makes any sudden moves, shoot him anywhere that won’t kill him immediately. Go ahead and pick different targets, concentrate on the most painful and most debilitating long-term.” She watched as each man centered on a different part of the man’s body.
Making sure she was not in a firing lane, she again approached the driver. “L
et’s try this again...Richard.”
The man looked up, then straightened himself in the chair. He seemed to instantly transform into a larger more robust man; his demeanor, his expressions all became that of a very different individual. “Very good, Director. When did you know?” he asked in perfect English with no sign of any accent.
“I knew from the moment I walked into the room. The real question is, when were you on to us? Or do you just always spend hours waxing a perfectly clean car?”
He shrugged, the restraints limiting his movement. “My intel systems showed a team was being brought into the area. Small town, not that many likely targets.”
“Why didn’t you run?”
“I will, in time. I was curious as to who was after me, who would have gone to such lengths to track me down. Your people literally went to the ends of the earth, did they not?”
Margaret smiled, but the man’s confidence was unnerving even to her. “And is your curiosity settled?”
“Not even close,” Goldman answered. “You, Director Stansfield, are supposed to be dead. One more victim of Janus attacking Camp David. Oh…excuse me, a rogue terrorist cell. Wasn’t that the official story on that little episode?”
Margaret thumbed her phone to the video captures of the Saraph, “Tell me about these.”
Goldman accepted the phone and glanced at the image. “It is a Series-3, a small one by the looks of it.”
“You helped create it?”
Richard thumbed through several other images, the Kalypso, the cave, the artwork. He paused on one she had placed there, knowing it would get his attention. She repeated the question.
“Not precisely, no. But I provided the impetus to get the Angel Project moving in the right direction.” He handed the phone back. “But I assume you already knew that, or you wouldn’t be here. Would you?”