Hybrid: A Shadowmark Origins Novel

by T. M. Catron

  “Yes, but yours doesn’t have the threaded barrel.”

  She handed her gun back to me. “Switch it out.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  Toral put the car in gear and drove us back to the hotel, frequently glancing back at me through the rear-view mirror.

  Back in our room, Toral showered and changed in the bathroom while I unwrapped my hands. The fabric stuck to the cuts, some of which began oozing blood again when I pulled off the make-shift bandages. I applied a fresh bandage from Toral’s shopping bag, rewrapped both hands, and put a bandage on my thigh.

  Toral came out of the bathroom and stood at the door. I tried to keep my attention on my hands but kept glancing at her out of the corner of my eye. Her wet hair reminded me of the day spent swimming in the Mediterranean.

  “Need help?” she asked.

  “I got it.”

  Toral hadn’t said another word about my scar or bruises. But I didn’t get the feeling her silence was caused by indifference. She’d barely let me out of sight since we returned to the hotel. She even stood outside the bathroom door while I showered, causing me to lock it to make sure she didn’t come in. Of course, without help, keeping my bandages out of the water while getting clean had been a challenge.

  I in no way resembled an Indian, but I looked like any other European tourist in Goa. Which is why I was stationed in Europe, because I blended in there. Hybrids assigned to India looked exactly like anyone else on the subcontinent, and that’s why they were here instead of me.

  Toral, on the other hand, would blend in beautifully in her new blue sari. I had fun thinking she had bought it because of me.

  Was that the human side of me, trying to get out? Had to be—the alien part had no real emotion. All it ever wanted was a victory. I wished to rip out one or the other. Not to be torn anymore between the two. And then I thought about my feelings in the Jeep after she’d gone to the shop. Did I love her?

  I didn’t know what love felt like, not really. How did I find out?

  “Hey,” I said. I unlocked the door. “Come here a minute.”

  “Hey,” she said when she opened it. “Everything okay?”

  I turned to her. “This may be the dumbest place to start this conversation, but what do you think of me?”

  A smile flitted across her mouth. Was she amused or happy? And weren’t they the same thing?

  She cleared her throat and said, “Would you clarify the question?”

  “Do I act normal? Is there something about me you don’t like? Anything about me that seems off?”

  Toral raised her eyebrows, silent a minute. I think my questions surprised her.

  “Let’s talk about the second question,” she said finally, leaning against the door frame.

  “Okay.”

  “There’s a lot about you I don’t like. The biggest problem I have, though, is how to reconcile your easy-going personality with the brutality I’ve witnessed on multiple occasions.”

  “Why?”

  “Why. Well, Morse, I’ve met a lot of hardened men and women. Agents, armed forces, and criminals don’t mind letting their fierceness show from time to time. They use it as a tool to get what they want or to avoid certain situations.

  “But you act like a regular guy all the time. You’re smart, well-spoken, and mild-mannered. Except…”

  I nodded. “Except when I’m not.”

  “Exactly. Like you have two personalities. I actually considered that you might be schizophrenic, but maybe you’re just a psychopath.”

  “But you don’t think so.”

  “No, I don’t. My current theory is that you were exposed to radiation in a lab accident and have some sort of super-human abilities that you are trying to hide.”

  I laughed. Toral did too. Then she waited, expecting an explanation.

  The words were on my lips: I’m not human.

  Instead, I rolled up my left sleeve, all the way to my shoulder. The ugly scar was colored purple and yellow with my bruises. “You asked about the burn. I did this to myself, the day I left Marseille.”

  Toral looked startled for a moment, and tears sprang to her eyes. She reached out to touch my arm. “Why?”

  “To punish myself.”

  “It looks bad, Morse. But that wasn’t long ago… it’s already healed.” Her eyes met mine. They were still glistening with tears.

  “Yes.” I held up my left hand, showing her the scar from the fork tines. It was almost gone. “When I met you, these were fresh.”

  “I remember. They were deep. And I noticed the other day they were almost completely gone.”

  “By tomorrow, most of this bruising will be gone, as well. And my collarbone will be mended in another couple of days. The cuts on my hands will disappear within a week. The pain is already subsiding.”

  “You burned yourself on purpose?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “Because…”

  Because I’m not human. I’m a slave.

  I’m not human.

  I’m a slave.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “But I want to. I’ve wanted to tell you since I met you. At first, I didn’t know why. Now I know it’s because you confuse me. I was raised to believe that humans were ignorant, barbaric beings with only surface intelligence. Their crude societies and weapons were a nuisance, standing in the way of a stronger, much greater civilization. But I don’t believe that anymore if I ever did. Even now I feel the urge to punish myself for telling you this, betraying my comrades and my masters.”

  The last word hung in the air as I grew silent. While I had been speaking, Toral’s expressions had gone from disbelief to confusion to shock.

  The last one reigned on her face. “If I weren't looking into your eyes when you said all that, I would think you had lost your mind. And I would be taking you to a mental hospital right now.”

  “I wouldn’t go quietly.” I smiled, attempting to lighten the mood.

  Toral didn’t smile back. “What are you, Morse?”

  “I’m not human.”

  Relief washed over me. There, I’d said it.

  Silence, then, “But what are you if not human?”

  “A weapon, a slave, a feral dog, a liar—take your pick.”

  “You look like none of those things.”

  “Because you only see what I have wanted you to see. Sometimes, didn’t you get the feeling I wasn’t quite real?”

  “I always knew you were putting on an act. I saw you do it in Paris.”

  “Toral, the act was an act. A play within a play. The only time I’ve stepped out of the performance was when I was with you.”

  She snorted, backed out of the doorway, and then laughed in earnest, her arms wrapping around her belly in her mirth as she leaned against the outside door for support.

  “What’s funny?” I asked, leaving the bathroom.

  “That must be the best line I’ve ever heard,” she said through tears that ran down her cheeks. “Is this some kind of elaborate metaphor to explain your childhood or something?”

  I nodded, smiling with her. Her response was appropriate—the laughter a release of tension. Better than anger.

  “But you believe me.”

  Toral sobered, straightened, and wiped the tears from her face. “I don’t know what to believe since you haven’t actually explained anything. You’re good at saying things without giving any information. You sure you’re not SIS, IDF, or FSB?”

  I grinned. “Positive, although the Russians would pay handsomely for me to work with them.”

  “Then say something to prove all this to me.”

  “Maybe you better sit down.”

  Toral went and sat in the chair by the desk. I sat on the edge of the bed facing her. I scratched my beard, thinking about the words I should use.

  “In this galaxy, there are millions of civilizations. Some advanced, most not. I’ve had personal contact with two—humans on Earth, and ano
ther race from a star system from the other side of the Milky Way. I won’t say its name, so you can never even accidentally speak it.”

  Toral leaned forward, her eyes on my face. She was taking me seriously. My heart began racing. There was no going back from this.

  “That race created me from human DNA and their own. I may look like a human, but I was made for the sole purpose of destroying humanity. As far-fetched as this may sound, I am an alien-human hybrid, preparing Earth for an invasion. Their ships are already in this solar system, hidden by technology you can’t even imagine. Nothing I can say will prove this to you since I don’t have the power to show you any of it.

  “But I know why Emerson-Wright is building remote compounds around the world and arming them—he knows about the invasion. He spoke of it the night of the party. When you told me what he was doing, I couldn’t help but work with you, to find out if the leak extended beyond EW’s network and into the government. And I think it does.”

  “The mole at the Embassy.”

  “Yes.”

  Shock registered across Toral’s face. She blinked several times as if she were trying to clear something in front of her eyes. Then, she stared at me for a hard minute, trying to determine if she should believe me. Finally, Toral stood to open the sliding glass door. The sound of the waves broke the momentary silence, the breeze bringing in a hint of warm salt.

  “You can’t go back and confront them, Toral,” I said. “If they know, they’ll do anything to keep it secret. You’re better off just disappearing.”

  She turned to me, composing herself. “You don’t seem distressed that you have a leak.”

  “I am—was. My masters are handling it. I was to go back and continue my observation of EW.”

  “Until you fought your way out of the building with me.”

  I nodded.

  “Assuming I believe any of this, why are the aliens going to invade?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t.”

  “No, I’m a slave. I only have autonomy as it pertains to my particular mission. But I’m never told why I do anything. Like I said, I can’t prove any of this.”

  “But you have proven some of it already, with your strange ability to heal, and your inhuman strength.”

  “I’d rather not try too hard to convince you. Already I’ve endangered you with this information.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m not likely to go around proclaiming the end of the world, am I? Not if I ever want to return to my job.”

  “You’re still considering that, then?”

  “I don’t know what else to do.”

  I reached out to her with my good arm. “Stay here with me.”

  “And wait for the apocalypse? Is that really what’s going to happen, Morse?” A flicker of fear crossed Toral’s face for the first time. She began pacing in front of me.

  “Yes. I’m not exaggerating.”

  “Maybe if we start preparing now—”

  “No. It will be the same either way. Condar has inserted hybrids all over the globe. They will stop anything like that from happening.”

  “The news, then, a viral video.”

  “There’s already plenty of that around. Does anyone really ever take those kooks seriously? If I walked up to the President of the United States today and told her everything I know, I’d be arrested and then sent to the hospital. I’d be a soothsayer, nothing more.”

  “I just can’t sit and do nothing!”

  “But you will, because you know I’m right.”

  “When will it happen?”

  “Not tomorrow, or next month. But too soon to stop it.”

  31

  Human

  “Promise me something,” Toral said later. She sat on the bed in pajamas, her finger toying with the buttons on the remote control. The TV was on, but the late-night program had been forgotten. It was just background noise.

  “What’s that?” I was trying to sleep on the floor next to the bed but not having much luck. A great weight had been lifted off me, replaced by another, more sinister feeling that I had written my own death sentence two times over now. But Condar wouldn’t find us. I’d make sure.

  “That there’s absolutely nothing we can do to stop this. No person to contact. No weapons to manufacture.”

  Toral had spent the afternoon in a myriad of emotions. First denial, then fear, then rationalization. I had let her vent, work through her feelings. There was nothing for me to add. I couldn’t even reassure her that everything would be okay because I knew it wouldn’t be.

  “I swear there’s nothing we can do,” I said. “It’s going to happen. In fact, if you let the hybrids do their jobs, humanity will suffer less. Most people won’t even know what hit them.”

  “And you believe that.”

  “I absolutely do. The invasion can’t be stopped. Trying to will only cause more suffering. If I were going to lie about this, I wouldn’t have even told you.”

  “Then why did you tell me?”

  I sat up and looked in her eyes. “I thought that was clear.”

  She shook her head. “Nothing is clear.”

  “My whole life I’ve been only acting like a human. I look like one, mostly, but I was only able to be convincing because I’ve studied people. In reality, my natural tendency is to act like the other hybrids—a race all our own. Not alien, not human. An entire race of psychopaths.”

  Toral looked at me. I could tell she was thinking of our earlier conversation.

  I nodded. “But in trying to be a convincing human, I’ve had to push the alien parts away. And I’ve been ashamed of the new thoughts I’ve had as a result.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’ve had to deny a huge part of my existence just to be in this room with you, without having any other motive than because I care for you. While acting like a human, somewhere along the way, I became one.”

  Toral watched the TV show for a minute, her eyes on the screen but her gaze somewhere else.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “I’m just finding it all a bit difficult to deal with. But I don’t have to believe you to believe in you.”

  I smiled. “I can live with that.”

  “Can you?” She leaned over and took my bandaged hand, pulling me up off my palette.

  I sat on the edge of the bed beside her.

  “I have a confession to make too,” she said.

  “What’s that?”

  “I liked meeting you on the Plage des Catalans. At first, I didn’t want to believe that you were the same person as my target because you were so good-natured and fun to be around. That’s why I asked you to take me swimming. It wasn’t planned. I just felt compelled to feel you out. It upset Charan—he was worried about me being alone with you, for obvious reasons. Later, it hurt me to tell you who I was because I enjoyed our time together. For a while, I entirely forgot I had an end game. That’s why I told you when I did, actually. It was then or not at all. I’ve struggled all this time, warring with myself on what to do. You may not believe this about me, but I have an impulsive streak. I had to be careful around you. Are you really what you say you are, Morse?”

  A feeling of relief washed over me at hearing my own feelings reciprocated. “Afraid so.” I leaned over, wanting to kiss her but afraid that this was the last step of my betrayal. Toral kissed me first, her hands letting go of mine to move to my neck. I held her, gently, afraid she would break if I weren’t careful.

  Toral touched my broken shoulder. I winced.

  “Sorry,” she whispered.

  “Hey,” I whispered back.

  “What?”

  “I have the craziest idea.”

  “Yes?”

  “Marry me.”

  32

  Happiness

  Toral pulled back but didn’t break contact. “Why?”

  “Because I love you, and it’s the most human thing I can think of to do.”

  Toral smiled. “I bare
ly know you.”

  “You know everything about me that matters.”

  “What if you snore?”

  “You know I don’t snore.”

  “You barely know me.”

  “That’s not exactly a no, is it?”

  “Answer me one thing, Morse. Do you want to marry me because it’ll make you feel human, or because you want to make a lifelong vow to me?”

  “Our lives might not be very long.”

  “Don’t be crude.”

  “It’s because I want to prove to you that I love you, and only you, for whatever time we have left.”

  Toral stared at me, her eyes searching mine for the truth. It was a stretch. I could barely believe what I was saying. First, I told her the world was going to end. Then, I asked her to marry me. It sounded like a bad line from a movie. I meant every word, though.

  Finally, a slow smile spread across her face.

  She said yes. Maybe she loved me too. Maybe she said yes because her world had turned upside down. Maybe it was learning that civilization was going to end. Whatever her reason, I didn’t question it. And she didn’t question me.

  That morning, we hunted down a place in Goa where we could exchange vows. I was surprised she was content to just find a church that day. I had been even more surprised to find out she wasn’t Hindu like she had told me, but Christian. I had experience with neither, so it didn’t matter to me. Toral chose a small non-denominational church where she persuaded the pastor to marry us without the proper documentation.

  The man, an Indian, looked at me curiously as I stood off to the side. Toral did the talking, explaining in Hindi that her family would not approve of the marriage but that we had given our decision much thought. She looked credible, standing there in her sari. The pastor looked at the scar on her face as if he pitied her. For once Toral didn’t get angry about it.

  “You realize this isn’t exactly legal,” he advised before we said our vows. I think he assumed I didn’t know what he was saying. Toral didn’t even know I knew the language. “The state does not recognize this type of marriage as binding.”

  “But does God recognize it?” Toral asked.