‘I can’t let you, Michael. Too many have already died. I’ll turn myself in. They won’t want a scandal with the Sanctuary of Europe. If I tell them it was my idea, that I sought you out, they can tell my Leaders I enabled a traitor. That gives them the excuse they need to hold me here as a prisoner, keeping their base and the hybrid military a secret.’
‘No, Mercy.’ Chase sounded resolved.
He pulled her in, drawing her face to face.
‘You have to get out. If all else fails, you are our only hope. You must go home and tell them what’s happening here.’
‘I can’t…’ she shook her head, unable to finish.
‘You can, for me. For all of us.’ Chase insisted.
Michael crossed his wrists. ‘Ambassador Joan, I surrender.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
All across Sanctuary City, PVAs vibrated and glowed red. Holographic displays flashed the words EMERGENCY MESSAGE. Confused and dazed citizens poured out into the streets and onto building tops looking up towards the darkening sky. Projected across the Shade, a large image of the Prime appeared, her face looming over the horizon.
‘Citizens of the great Sanctuary of Americas,’ she began, her thundering voice ringing out from speakers and PVAs across the city. ‘When I took office, I did so with one promise – to protect you and to build a better future for humans and hybrids alike. We have accomplished much together. Our Sanctuary is stronger and more productive than we’ve been for over one hundred years. And we owe this to our collective efforts and speed of innovation. With science, we built the Shade. With science, we protected and improved our species through hybridisation. But this science can also be used against us.’ She shook her head slowly and gave a dramatic pause.
‘It is with great sadness today that I share this devastating news. Traitors are living among us. Those who would destroy everything we’ve achieved. Early this morning, our security forces arrested the leaders of the Purists party. Secretly, they had been engineering a new strain of the FossilFlu which can infect hybrids. Their capture came moments before they were about to release the virus into the public.’
Gasps erupted across the city. Citizens turned to each other in disbelief and fear, shaking their heads and clapping their hands over wide opened mouths.
The Prime went on: ‘The Purists’ desire to end the Chimera has never been a secret. Today we learned how far they would go to achieve their mad goals. And I fear it won’t be the last threat we face as we forge a new way of life for everyone. Rest assured, while I’m your Prime, you will be safe. Our way of life will be protected.’
Her face faded, replaced with images of the military base transposed over a rippling red, white and blue flag.
The Prime’s voice continued over the speakers. ‘Over the last few years, our government has been building a military in the Northern mountains. A new breed of hybrids, soldiers with specialised skills, who can protect our city.’
A scene projected onto the Shade revealed a parade of military machinery followed by thousands of marching Chimera soldiers, dressed in war uniforms, one hand pressed to their heads in salute, the other stiff at their sides.
The citizens shook their heads in disbelief; gaped in awe and confusion at the images rolling at them from the sky.
The Prime carried on: ‘As I speak to you, the remaining Purists are being rounded up by this new military force. I will defend our Sanctuary at any cost.’
The image of the military parade vanished, giving way to a grid of twenty screens, all live video footage of avian, lizard, cat, and wolf soldiers chasing and incarcerating terrified Purist Party members.
Slowly, one scene expanded, eclipsing all other screens until filling the entire sky. An avian soldier hovered in the air over the White Tower with Senator Arjun hanging from his claws.
The Senator screamed out, ‘Lies, it’s all lies!’ while desperately swinging his arms, trying to break free.
The soldier soared even higher until almost every citizen could see both the video and the real battle unfolding overhead. With one claw still firmly in the flailing Senator’s shoulder, and the other now wrapped around his skull, the soldier twisted and stretched his captive’s flesh and bones.
The Senator shrieked in pain, scraping desperately at the razor talons with feeble human hands. Then, before all the citizens of the Sanctuary, with one final wrench, the avian ripped the Senator’s head from his body. Arjun’s face stared lifelessly into the cameras, glazed eyes and a twisted dead mouth.
Gasps turned to screams from the stupefied citizens below.
Mercy sat alone in a room with no windows on floor twenty of the White Tower, dedicated to the police headquarters. Two chairs sat at opposite ends of a steel table with a holographic generator embedded in the centre. Leaning forward, hands clenched, she watched in horror at her private showing of the Prime’s announcement and the beheading of Senator Arjun.
Separated from Chase and Joan the moment they turned themselves in, she had to rely on herself to get through the next few hours. Joan told their story precisely as planned and the Prime congratulated her and welcomed all three of them back safely, taking Michael away as a prize well won.
After hours of interrogation by officers, Mercy sat alone, waiting for the Prime. The holographic screen disappeared. Still sick from watching the horrifying event, she barely noticed the door sliding open.
‘Hello, Doctor Perching,’ The Prime’s use of Mercy’s formal name made it clear there had been a reboot in their relationship, back to the beginning.
‘Madame Prime,’ Mercy replied.
‘You must be tired?’
‘A little, yes.’
‘I’m sorry we’ve kept you so long. These are extraordinary circumstances; extraordinary times, even. I hope you understand.’
‘I do.’ Mercy’s reply was obedient.
‘Such a horrible ordeal, your kidnapping. The fugitives didn’t hurt you?’
‘No,’ Mercy shook her head in truth.
The Prime took a seat, relaxing back into the chair. A blatant attempt to draw in Mercy’s trust.
‘Doctor Perching, I believe we owe you a debt; a thank you at least.’
‘Me? For what?’ Mercy was on guard.
‘Your research revealed the mutation was human-made. But, you knew that already, didn’t you?’
The only way forward now was to play along. ‘Yes, I suspected. But I didn’t know who or why,’ Mercy conceded.
‘Of course.’ The Prime nodded. ‘Well, that’s what led us to the Purists and uncovered their plot to kill the hybrids.’
Mercy’s gut twisted as she thought of the Senator’s head torn from his body. ‘I’m glad my research proved helpful,’ she lied.
‘One question if I may. Did your captors ever mention the virus? Ask about your research?’
Mercy feigned surprise. ‘No, why would they? Were they involved?’
‘That’s what we are trying to ascertain. It seems a little too much of a coincidence; your tests, the sudden kidnapping, the revelation of the terrorist plot.’
‘I’m sorry, I can’t help.’ Mercy’s heart raced, but her body remained still. ‘We didn’t talk about my research. We didn’t have much interaction at all. They told me that if I behaved, I would go home safely in exchange for their friends on the base. I don’t know anything more than that.’
The Prime eyed her suspiciously, her response measured. ‘Well, the one thing we can be grateful for is your safe return. My deepest apologies for getting you involved in this mess.’ There was a calculated silence before she continued. ‘We’ve started preparing for your return home, considering the circumstances.’
Mercy’s mind spun. They hadn’t planned for this. She had to think quickly.
‘Madame Prime, while I’d welcome being back home, we’ve come too far not to see this t
hrough. There is so much more Doctor Chase and I can achieve before I go back.’
The Prime raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you sure that is the reason you would like to remain?’ A crooked smile crossed her face, almost a threat. ‘Ambassador Joan has informed us of your developing relationship with Doctor Chase. And we are aware you’re carrying his child.’
Mercy grew pale. For a moment, she was almost faint.
The Prime dug deeper into her fear. ‘You are aware we don’t allow breeding for any hybrids above C8. I’m sure Doctor Chase informed you he is sterilised?’
Mercy nodded out of instinct, still numb with disbelief, the baby was never part of the story.
‘Well, yours isn’t the first “miracle”. Nature has a way of surprising us,’ continued the Prime, her voice almost annoyed. ‘I’m sorry to have to inform you, but every pregnancy from hybrids above level C8 has resulted in abnormal foetal development. Most are self-terminated through miscarriage. A small few die shortly after birth. And in a few rare cases, where the parents hid the pregnancy, and the infant survived birth, the disfigurations were so severe and life-threatening that termination was the only morally responsible choice.’
Mercy clutched her stomach, fighting back her tears, not wanting the Prime to see her weak.
‘I’m going to be blunt. For your good, we would like you to terminate the pregnancy before you leave. This isn’t how I hoped to introduce Chimeras to the world, you see. The incident can remain between us. I don’t think your Leaders need to know.’
‘But it’s my choice.’ The words stumbled out of her mouth, surprising herself. ‘I mean – our choice, Chase and mine.’
Terminating her pregnancy was always an option in her mind, perhaps already knowing it was the only one. But hearing the Prime make that decision for her triggered something she hadn’t felt before: the need to fight for her unborn child.
Mercy went on, almost begging. ‘If I chose not to terminate? See if the foetus develops normally?’
‘It won’t.’ The Prime’s words were direct, unhesitating. ‘But, I’m willing to give you a few days to come to terms with this reality. And, selfishly, I could use your help. The man working with the Purists and responsible for the mutation is Doctor Brutus; he used to run the Population Research Centre. He’s being held in custody at the military base up north. We believe he not only created the mutation strain but was also close to developing a vaccine.’ She shook her head, a convincing dramatic gesture. ‘Can you imagine the power that would have given the Purists if they had gotten hold of a cure?’ she said aghast.
Such a good liar, Mercy thought.
‘Doctor Brutus is refusing to talk. I’d like you and Doctor Chase to go to the base where I’ve set up a lab. You’ll have access to his work. See if you can find anything useful.’
‘Thank you, Madame Prime,’ answered Mercy restraining her enthusiasm, a little stunned their plan seemed to be working.
‘I’ll give you forty-eight hours in the lab. Ambassador Joan will escort you to the base, for security. There are still fugitives in the Belt, and you’re not safe.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Well, then, we have an agreement.’ The Prime stood. ‘We’ll speak after you’ve been through his research. Now get some sleep. You’ll be leaving for the base tomorrow morning.’
Alone, Mercy’s face twisted quizzically; unsure who had just played whom. Her lips curled upwards. Joan’s plan had worked.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Two guards stood outside Mercy’s quarters. With no way to contact Chase, she lay down and reluctantly fell into a deep sleep.
Mercy dreamt of white-capped waters running down a river filled with boulders, forcing the water to split, twist, and push past the hurdles. A voice – no, it was a song – lingered in the air, brought to her by the cool breeze blowing down the pebbled banks. She recognised it; it was Jillet’s melody from the tunnel. Mercy started running up the riverbank, towards the sound. Without notice, the location of the music changed, moved to the other side of the river. The crossing could endanger her unborn baby. Unable to choose, she woke.
Lying in bed, eyes open, a lingering sense of frustration haunted her. She tried to hold onto the images from the dream, maybe even fall back asleep and make the final decision, to cross the river or not. But the pull of the waking world was too strong. She found herself sitting up in bed. It was already morning.
Joan escorted Mercy to the docking bay and onto a transport ship where Chase was anxiously waiting. They sat in silence throughout the entire flight, hand in hand, no longer having to hide their relationship. Mercy caught herself daydreaming about a family, her possible family: Chase, their baby, and a new life free of viruses, free of politics, free of life-threatening missions. She brushed the idea off as silly, a waste of time, improbable. There is no family, no life if the virus mutation spreads, she told herself. She was a scientist, a genealogist, and a good one. Saving humanity, ensuring the cure for the virus was available for everyone – that’s where she was needed right now.
They arrived at the base two hours later. The military vehicle slowed, coming to a soft landing on the roof of a large industrial building, a formidable metal structure with no visible windows from the outside. Identical buildings fanned outward from their central location, perfectly measured and lined up along a perpendicular gridwork of roads some forty blocks deep.
A concrete fortress, and the jagged snow-capped mountains beyond the wall, protected the base on all sides. Getting in or out other than through flight looked impossible. Mercy tried to imagine Michael and the fugitives escaping. The thought gripped her heart in sadness and worry for Michael, somewhere on the base if still alive.
The camp was busy in preparation. Armoury vehicles weaved up and down the streets, moving supplies from one building to the other. Troops of hybrid soldiers dressed in blue and grey uniforms marched side by side: bipedal hybrids in the front, quadrupeds bringing up the rear. Wings, claws, tails, scales, pinchers and raw animal muscle were on display in perfect synchronisation; all the armoury of the natural world bred into an unstoppable fighting machine.
The sheer scale of the operation exposed the Prime’s real ambition. The base was not a military designed to stop a small political adversary. This machine was big enough to take over the world.
Once in the building, Joan led the heavily guarded escort. She moved with the familiarity of having been there many times before, passing quickly through security checkpoints, endlessly weaving deeper into the heart of the building.
She finally came to a stop in an enormous room, three stories tall. Layers of glass-cubed laboratories racked on steel beams, stitched together by a cross-work of staircases, filled the hall.
Bent over the upward rays of holographic light, dressed in grey uniforms, scientists worked in absorbed concentration, blind to the visitors entering their workspace.
‘This is the Department of Science and Medicine,’ explained Joan. ‘We’ll be working in the next room.’ She pointed to a west-facing door on the other side of the hall.
Mercy listened half-heartedly, distracted by a peculiar experiment happening over Joan’s shoulder. A life-sized holographic vision of a golden lion-human hybrid, with avian wings, sharp eagle’s talons, and a scorpion’s tail, roared and hissed, while the scientist prodded the creature. Mercy watched with both horror and fascination: crossing three or more species had never been done before.
‘Good god; this is more like the lab of a mad scientist than a medical facility,’ Chase whispered into Mercy’s ear.
The angry creature finally struck back in defence. Venom squirted from its poisonous tail, bleeding throughout the holographic display like ink in water. Nodding in agreement with a pleased sinister smile, the scientist began running tests on the fluid.
The plaque hanging to the right of the door read: CAUTION: LIVE BIOHAZARD MA
TERIALS.
‘I have to warn you,’ Joan started, in a quiet voice meant only for Chase and Mercy, ‘this isn’t pleasant viewing. All of the hybrids you see in these holographic experiments are real people, imprisoned in the next area.’
One of the guards waved his wristband over the security panel and the door opened with a loud metal clang and a smooth westward glide. Warm air, released from inside, pressed against them. A blood light fell out of the chamber onto the sterile floor of the science lab like a red-carpet invitation.
Inside, glass-fronted cages lined the cavernous hall. Behind the barriers, strange and ferocious creatures twisted and screamed, as they were prodded, cut and broken by the invisible scientists in the next room. Tiny black metal bots zipped along the cage floors cleaning up blood and venom nearly as fast as it fell and slipped back through the mouse holes in the wall, delivering the precious specimens for further evaluation.
Chase went white. A low menacing growl rumbled in the back of his throat as he spewed out his words, ‘Joan, how could she?”
Suddenly, before Joan could respond, someone answered for her.
‘Aren’t they beautiful?’ came the shrill voice of a tall, hollow-cheeked man standing at the door.
They spun around.
‘Brutus!’ Joan cried with surprise.
‘Hello, Ambassador Joan,’ his words slithered out, seemingly enjoying her bewilderment. ‘And Chase, it’s been a long time.’
Chase snarled and stepped in front of Mercy, placing himself between the two.
‘I presume this is Doctor Perching you’re hiding?’ He pointed a gaunt crooked finger in her direction.
Joan interrupted: ‘The Prime said you were incarcerated?’
‘Annoying isn’t it? These lies.’ He sighed. ‘You can let down the pretence, Joan. Michael has already confessed. I know Chase and Mercy are aware of my work. And I know what you’ve been up to, helping my soldiers escape.’ He spat the words out maliciously, enjoying his position of power.
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