Cazak

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Cazak Page 7

by Elin Wyn


  The shuttle settled onto its landing pylons and the back door cracked open, greeting us with an icy blast of wind. Jalok and I each took a side of the gurney and wheeled the mayor down the ramp onto the tarmac.

  Sybil took off her own coat and tossed it over Mayor Anatosian’s slumbering form. It had been much warmer down on the coast in Kaster.

  From the tarmac, we transitioned to an emergency vehicle and transported the good mayor to the detention center. Sybil sniffled and cried when she saw?

  the imposing building looming before us, but Dottie attempted to calm her down.

  Part of me wished I had the ability, or the right, to do the comforting myself.

  Something drew me to her. Not just her beauty, although that was undeniable. Something within her, a spark, that called to me. But I had no right to answer it.

  Dottie and Sybil were forced to wait in the lobby while Jalok and I wheeled Mayor Anatosian into the detention center’s processing area.

  Evie was there and we notified her of the situation. Grimly, she took charge of our prisoner/patient and directed us to report to General Rouhr directly, rather than using comms. Under the circumstances, given the sensitivity of our charge, I understood completely.

  Even as I was forced to leave Sybil behind, I felt conflicted.

  On the one hand, I was no longer so self-conscious of my scar without her there. But then I also felt disappointment, as well as relief. I’d barely known Sybil for a day, and already my world felt empty without her presence.

  My gut was flipping the whole way to General Rouhr’s office. Thoughts of Sybil kept leaping, unbidden, into my mind, but they weren’t wholly unpleasant.

  But every little fantasy I had didn’t end with a mutual declaration of affection, but with her vomiting at the thought of touching my scarred skin.

  We were shown into the general’s office. The big, aging man glared at us, but he did that with everyone regardless of his mood, or any wrongdoing on their part.

  “Cazak. Jalok.” He pointed at a pair of seats in front of his desk. “I already read a preliminary report, but I want to hear what happened in your own words.”

  Jalok and I looked at each other, and he shrugged. Sighing, I went into my report.

  “Mayor Anatosian just attacked us, sir. Well, he attacked Jalok first, but then—”

  “Then he bit Cazak.”

  “Bit him?”

  General Rouhr turned his gaze onto me.

  “Is this true, Cazak?”

  “Yes, sir. The mayor wasn’t acting like himself, not at all. He was more like, like, an animal.”

  “Or one of the possessed.”

  Jalok’s words hung in the air, leaving us to exchange worried glances.

  “And the two of you did nothing to incite him?” General Rouhr glanced between the two of us, and then for some reason his gaze settled on me. “Nothing at all?”

  Why would the general think that I’d done anything? Unlike that hothead, Jalok, I’m pretty laid back. Well, laid back for a Skotan soldier.

  General Rouhr stood up and straightened his uniform. Suddenly he seemed old, ancient even. He walked to the window and stared out at the evening sky as a shuttle flew by across the air currents.

  “This is the nineteenth case of possession to come across my desk in the last two weeks.”

  Jalok and I stared in shocked silence. Nineteen? How much did it take before it was considered an epidemic?

  “Nineteen, sir?”

  Rouhr grunted in response to Jalok’s query.

  “Nineteen. All of them just as you described. They attacked without warning. The only sign anyone has reported is that they talk differently than normal, but not so much as to be something overt they can be called out on.”

  “Does it usually involve anti-alien hate-speech?”

  “Sometimes. But when it does, it’s almost always from someone who is not known for that type of opinion.”

  “So, the Ancient Enemies are able to twist anyone’s mind. They don’t need to rely on existing prejudices.”

  Rouhr cocked an eyebrow at my statement.

  “Indeed. That’s a remarkable piece of insight, Cazak. Maybe it’s time you were promoted to officer.”

  That idea sent ice shooting through my veins. The thought of being responsible for the whole team was not one that I found appealing.

  “I—I’m just a soldier, general. Nothing more, and nothing less.”

  “That’s just what an excellent officer would say, Cazak, but I’ll let the matter drop. For now.”

  I made a mental note to myself to appear more incompetent around the general in the future. Perhaps I should act more like Jalok.

  “Sir, what are we going to do?” We both turned to Jalok, who had an uncharacteristic expression of worry on his orange face. “If the Ancient Enemies can just take over who they please, how can we fight them? What if they’re possessing people in this very building right as we speak?”

  “What would you have me do, Jalok? Start rounding people up at random and hold them in case they might be possessed?”

  Jalok opened his mouth, and then closed it.

  “I don’t know, sir. Maybe not everyone. Maybe just, just the people who—”

  “The people who what, cousin, have been talking skrell about aliens?” I shook my head at his ignorance. “Don’t you see what a disaster that would be for us, politically? You might as well hand the anti-alienists a talking point on a silver platter.”

  Rouhr rubbed his chin and stared at me. I silently cursed myself for appearing smart in front of him. I didn’t want to do paperwork.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Jalok sighed. “I just feel so damn frustrated. How do we fight an enemy we can’t even see?”

  “With heart, determination, and skill.” General Rouhr put his hands behind his back and glared at each of us in turn. “We’ve faced daunting foes before. The Xathi. The flora and fauna of this planet. Anti-alien extremists. We’re professionals. We’ll defeat this challenge, too. Dismissed.”

  Jalok and I left the general’s office, then we parted ways. Jalok wanted to go find his girlfriend, of course.

  Me, I was still bothered by a lot of things. So, I did what any self-respecting soldier does when circumstances are confusing or beyond our control.

  I hit the local tavern.

  There were a few guys I knew in there, loitering about, but they took one look at my black expression and left me alone. I drank in silence and solitude, but even though my body was still, my mind raced around in circles.

  But I wasn’t thinking so much as brooding. If I’d been thinking, I’d have been trying to deal with the Ancient Enemies, finding a countermeasure to their possession.

  Instead, I sat and drank while pining for Sybil.

  But I kept dwelling on the way she smiled at me. Sure, she smiled at my cousin Jalok, too, but her eyes didn’t light up the same way as they did when she turned it to me.

  I tried to tell myself that it was because she felt sorry for me. Or maybe she was just being magnanimous toward the guy with the scars, so she felt better about herself.

  The one possibility I was afraid to consider was also the one I most fervently hoped was true.

  Maybe she really didn’t care about my scars. Maybe she was even interested in me the way I was interested in her.

  Then I caught my reflection in a chrome lighting fixture, saw the scarred and twisted face and the missing ear, and sunk deeper into depression.

  How could someone as beautiful as Sybil be with someone as ugly as me?

  Sybil

  I expected the detention center to look like the kind of evil dungeon that always popped up in old Earth fairy tales. Those dark buildings with gargoyles and moats, that always had storm clouds and lightning looming behind them.

  Instead, it was just a normal building. I wouldn’t go as far as to call it nice. None of the buildings in Nyheim were nice anymore, at least not on the outside.

 
; The Xathi invasion did a number on the city, as did the Puppet Master before he became a friend of the people.

  The detention center was located on the outer edge of the town. That made sense. In the event of an escape or some kind of biological contamination, it wouldn’t spread to the public right away. There was an electrified fence around the property, but it didn’t look like a prison.

  From the outside, I could see an exercise yard. I wondered if they’d let my dad outside, since I was there. I hoped so. He didn’t like being inside for long periods. Which was ironic, since his job was mostly done from inside an office with only one window.

  Dottie came with me, as I figured I wouldn’t be able to get past security by myself. I needed her credentials.

  “If they question you, just pull rank,” she advised me as we entered the building.

  “Pull rank?”

  “Tell them who your father is. Threaten to get Vidia involved. You pull rank all the time in clubs and restaurants.”

  “Yeah, but that’s for a free appetizer, not to get into a secure facility,” I countered. “Besides, I’m off my game. I won’t be convincing.”

  “You don’t need to put on an act. You just need to be the concerned daughter you are.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Dottie and I approached the receptionist’s desk. I found it funny that a place like this had a receptionist in the first place.

  Dottie handed the receptionist her ID card and explained what we were here to do. I had a hard time focusing on the conversation. All I could look at was the security guards and the huge blasters strapped to their waists.

  “Visiting hours only apply to approved patients who can receive approved visitors. The patient in question has not been approved yet, so there’s nothing I can do,” the receptionist told Dottie. She at least had the decency to pretend to look sorry.

  Dottie gave me a look then jerked her head toward the receptionist. I was supposed to pull rank now. I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders.

  I’d done this a million times before, sometimes just for fun. I knew that made me kind of a shitty person, but perhaps all those times were training me for this moment.

  Like cosmic preparation or something.

  “My name is Sybil Anatosian.” My voice came out trembly and weak. “I want to see my dad.” Instead of sounding like a confident, determined woman, I sounded like a scared little girl. Tears welled up in my eyes. I blinked them away.

  “Oh, honey,” the receptionist hummed. I was so upset that I didn’t care how condescending she sounded. “I know you do. If he was on the approved list, I’d let you in during visiting hours. He’s not approved just yet. It would be dangerous for me to let you see him. I can put you on the contact list so you know the minute he’s approved. That list isn’t for civilians. Would that be okay?”

  Actually, yes. That would be fine.

  “Sure.” I nodded and gave her my information. As I was entering my contact info into her datapad, a woman with golden hair strode out into the lobby from the area where the patients were kept.

  “Evie?” Dottie perked up. The woman’s face split into a wide smile that looked like sunshine.

  “Hey, Dottie!” The woman, Evie, walked up to Dottie and gave her a big hug. “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

  “It wasn’t planned. My friend’s father was admitted earlier today. We’re just trying to get some information.”

  Evie turned to me with sympathy filled eyes.

  “The mayor is your father?” she asked me.

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m Sybil.”

  “I’m so sorry.” She reached forward and gave my arm a gentle squeeze. Normally, I wasn’t crazy about people I didn’t know touching me. However, her touch felt nice, almost motherly. “I’m Dr. Evie Parr. I’m one of the doctors who will be running tests on him later today.”

  “I thought the testing had already started,” I frowned.

  “No, he’s only just completed his inpatient examinations. He had to be heavily sedated again,” she added quietly.

  “How is he now?” I asked.

  “Still asleep. We’re giving him some time to recover before we start testing. It can be a draining process. We like to make it as smooth and painless as we can for our patients.”

  “How many are in here?”

  “Over two dozen.”

  “Do they all have the same thing my father has?”

  “From what we can tell, yes,” she nodded. “What they all have is still a mystery.”

  “Is it like the hybridism the Xathi unleashed? People changed then, horribly.” I remembered all too well. Not even my near-constant partying since the Xathi had been defeated could erase that memory.

  Evie’s face went ashen but she didn’t drop her smile.

  “That’s one theory. We call them possessed, rather than hybrids, since their physical bodies don’t seem to change.”

  “Evie was part of the team that developed the cure for hybridism,” Dottie spoke up.

  “Really?” I perked up. “How did you do that? Do you think you can do it again?”

  “I’m going to try,” Evie laughed nervously.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to put that kind of pressure on you. I’m sure you’re getting plenty of that from everyone else, too,” I said.

  “It’s okay.” Evie smiled kindly. “I have more experience than most with the effects of hybridism. It’s only natural that people look to me to fix it.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  Evie pressed her lips together, pondering her words.

  “If you don’t want to share, you don’t have to,” I said quickly.

  “I think it might give you some peace of mind to know why I’m as qualified as I am. But we shouldn’t talk about it here. Step into my office?”

  Evie swiped her ID card to open the door to the back rooms. Dottie and I followed.

  “You have a permanent office here now?” Dottie asked.

  “Sort of. It’s also a storage room. Space is cramped around here, but it’s okay. I don’t need much room. It’s not as if my proper office is far away, either.”

  The room Evie took us to really was a storage room. It was packed to the brim with boxes, with just enough room for a desk and a filing cabinet.

  “I hope the labs aren’t like this.” Dottie looked around the room and wrinkled her nose.

  “The labs are pretty nice,” Evie replied. “Not as nice as the one in the main building, but a close second.”

  “That’s a relief. Bad equipment can be as detrimental as bad research,” Dottie said.

  “That won’t be a problem here,” Evie grinned. “Now, about my little story.”

  “Right,” I nodded. “Go on.”

  “I don’t know how much you know about the Xathi,” she began, “but they are a hive-mind species. Their minds are linked to sub-queens. Those sub-queens report back to and take orders directly from the queen of their hive. Hybridism stems from the queens and is inflicted through the sub-queens. Does that make sense?”

  I nodded.

  “I was working in a clinic in another city studying the first cases of hybridism. Apparently, the queen didn’t like that. This was before the aliens set up their base in Nyheim. I was reporting back to their original ship, the Vengeance, when the Xathi queen herself attacked my mind.”

  “That must’ve been horrible.” I chewed my bottom lip.

  “It was,” Evie nodded. “She somehow accessed my deepest childhood memories and used those against me. It took me a while to break free from her grasp.”

  “How did you do it?” I asked. A wistful expression passed over Evie’s face.

  “I heard the voice of someone I loved. It was strong enough to puncture the shield the Xathi queen set up around my mind. From there, I was able to pull myself out of my memories and fight her off. I wasn’t right for several weeks after that.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “T
he Puppet Master has explained what he knows about the Ancient Enemies, but it doesn’t give us any way to fight them, much less cast them out of one of their victims.” She leaned back against the wall. “Understanding how the Xathi queen took over her slaves helped me figure out how to reverse the damage she did,” Evie explained. “I’m hoping the same principles apply to what’s happening now.”

  “I hope so, too.” I nervously tugged at a strand of hair. “Is there anything I can do to help? I’ll be here in Nyheim until my father’s well enough to take home.”

  If he’s ever well enough, that was, but I didn’t say it out loud.

  “Hearing a familiar voice helped me. Once your father’s cleared for visitors, maybe it will help him,” Evie suggested. “Until then, I just need you to be patient and put some trust in me. I understand if you can’t put all of it, but at least give me some.”

  “I can do that.” For the first time since this nightmare started, I smiled. “Can you do me one favor, though?”

  “I can try,” Evie shrugged.

  “Can you keep me updated?” I asked. “I hate being in the dark about things like this.”

  “Of course.” Evie reached forward to grab my hand. “Anything for a friend of Dottie’s.”

  Relief washed over me.

  “Thank you,” I sighed. “My dad’s the only family I have left. If I lose him-”

  I couldn’t finish the sentence. Just the thought of it made my throat grow thick.

  “We’re going to do everything we can to help him,” Evie assured me.

  Evie walked Dottie and me back to the lobby. I gave them a moment to chat before we left, thinking over everything that had been said.

  And everything that hadn’t been.

  Finally, I decided that if anyone was going to be in charge of my dad’s health, I was glad it was Dr. Evie Parr.

  She was a fighter. She’d fight for him. And so would I.

  Cazak

  Using the barrel of my assault rifle, I gently lifted a thin branch out of my path of vision. The sun didn’t penetrate well past the dense foliage of the Nyheim jungle, making the forest floor dark and murky.

 

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