by Chris Fox
“Not that I can think of. There’s a lot we don’t understand about signals in general, even though most of our technology is based on them. Maybe your ancient civilization did, but if they left us any clues, they’d be in that pyramid,” Liz said, stepping out of the stairwell and onto the asphalt. She shielded her eyes as she scanned the parking lot for Trevor’s Land Rover.
“If only we could get back inside. Given time, I could learn their language and get us some answers,” he replied, joining her on the curb. “I’m still not sure how to explain how we change forms, and I’m betting they left some sort of user’s manual. If nothing else, the woman inside must know.”
“You’ve mentioned her a couple times. Keeping her alive that long should be impossible,” Liz said, biting her lip as she scanned the incoming traffic for Trevor.
“So should being a werewolf or reading minds. We’d be smart not to underestimate what these people might have been capable of. The woman was breathing,” Blair said, more than a bit defensively.
“I believe you. It’s just the scope of that…Well, it’s hard to accept, even for someone like me. Just give me a bit of time, all right?”
“Are you going to tell your brother the truth?” Blair asked. It was a question she was still struggling to answer. Would doing so put her brother in danger? What if Mohn came after them? He was a bit of a gun nut, but these people way outclassed any concerned citizen, even one as militant as her brother.
“I don’t know,” she replied, a bit surprised at her honesty. Showing vulnerability was difficult at the best of times, and Blair was a relative stranger. Maybe the shared experience was what made her more comfortable, or maybe it was some inexplicable twist of genetic manipulation now that they’d both been infected with the same virus. “Let’s keep quiet about it for now. We’ll go with the story we discussed on the plane. You were at a dig in Peru, and Mohn wanted whatever you found there. We’ll just leave out the whole werewolf part.”
“All right,” Blair agreed with a shrug. His shirt was finally starting to dry, but it all but pulsed with his scent. “It’s your brother. I’ll do my best to play this off, but how are you going to explain the tests you’re running?”
“I’m going to tell him the truth eventually, I just need to figure out how,” she replied, rising to her tiptoes. There it was. A forest-green Land Rover slid into a spot a couple rows over. She couldn’t help but hop up and down when a familiar shock of red hair appeared outside the driver’s side door. Trevor was the stereotypical ginger, just like her. “There he is. I’m going to go meet him. Give us a sec before you head over.”
She trotted through the parking lot, pausing to let a blue Camry pass before entering the row where she’d seen Trevor’s SUV. Trevor caught sight of her, lighting up with a big grin as he strode toward her. His goatee had a couple grey hairs, and there were a few more lines around the eyes, but other than that he looked just like he always had.
Liz couldn’t help herself, bursting into tears as she sprinted into a rib-crushing hug.
“God, I’ve missed you,” she sobbed, all the pent up emotion finally finding release. “Thank you so much for coming, Trev.”
“Of course, Wizzer. You know I’m always here for you,” he said, tousling her hair just like he had when they’d been children. There was something so comforting about her older brother, even in the face of all that had happened.
“Don’t call me that,” she said, unable to suppress a grin.
“I won’t say it in front of this Blair guy, but you’ve got to give it to me straight. I don’t need to know what trouble you’re in, at least not yet. But do you trust him? Your phone call sounded frantic, and if he’s got some sort of hold over you, I can deal with it.”
She disengaged reluctantly, turning as Blair approached. “He’s a friend, Trev. He’s saved my life more than once over the last few weeks. I trust him. Whatever we’ve fallen into, we’re in it together.”
“Later we’re going to have a talk about what that is,” Trev said, his smile melting. He’d gone into business mode.
“You’ll get the whole story, I promise,” she mouthed, gesturing at Blair as he darted around a battered pickup with a tentative wave. “Trevor, this is my friend Blair. Blair, this is my brother, Trevor.”
Trevor renewed his smile as he offered a hand to Blair. “Welcome to San Diego. Sounds like it’s been a hell of a trip.”
Chapter 43- Watched
Ahiga stopped next to an odd metal conveyance the locals called a car. They were larger and much more ornate than those found on the southern continent. The sapphire hue on this one was strange to him, its unnatural sheen something that would have been near impossible to fabricate in his own time. He pretended to be opening the door, fumbling with the keys he’d taken from his last victim. The whelp and his female seemed unaware of his presence as they met with a fiery-haired man near a larger vehicle of the deepest green.
He’d known a moment of worry when he’d stood so near the whelp in the press of bodies seeking entrance to this nation. Fortunately, the stench of the clothing’s previous owner had masked his scent, particularly the red shirt emblazoned with the word 49ers. It had indicated the owner’s loyalty to a particular tribe of warriors, if he understood the garment’s purpose. He’d shaped his face into an exact replica of the man who’d worn it, and that subterfuge appeared to have worked. His presence was still secret.
Where was Blair going? Frustration boiled in him as he considered the bare handful of days remaining. He understood that the whelp must find his own acceptance of the powerful new body he’d suddenly been thrust into, but time was a luxury they could ill afford. Yet he could do nothing to sway the whelp. His own energy was all but spent, and the female would tear him apart if he attempted another direct confrontation.
Ahiga reached for the fiery-haired man’s mind, slipping past his rudimentary defenses like wind through a forest. He plucked the man’s destination with a deftness earned through centuries of practice. It was a town known as Bonita, nestled near the edge of this strange, sprawling sea of concrete and pollution. He would follow them and make one final plea to the whelp.
He must convince him, must show him the rudiments of shaping. If the whelp could not be prepared, all of them would pay the price.
Chapter 44- Helio-seismology
Trevor slid into the driver’s seat, yanking the heavy door shut with its comforting metallic groan. The tan leather was cracked and faded, but the Land Rover was as reliable as the sunrise. He buckled the frayed seat belt, adjusting his wire-frame glasses as Liz slid into the passenger side. Her companion hopped in the rear passenger side, buckling his belt over a wide chest that spoke loudly of time in the gym. Trevor used the opportunity to study this Blair through the rearview mirror, taking in the sweat-stained shirt and stubbly face. Strangely haunted eyes darted around the parking lot, probably scanning for some sort of pursuit.
What could possibly be worth chasing them all the way from Peru? He glanced again at Blair. Putting that kind of fear into someone took a special kind of people, the sort who didn’t balk at leaving bodies.
“So, uh, Trevor, what do you do for a living?” the man asked, shifting uncomfortably under Trevor’s gaze. He eased the Rover out of its spot and into the line waiting for the on-ramp to 5 North.
“I’m a helio-seismologist.” Trevor said, waiting for the inevitable confusion. He was used to it.
“Helio-seismologist. Sun vibrations?” Blair asked, straightening in sudden interest. That was certainly a surprise. “How does that work, exactly? I’d think it’s too hot to get any sort of accurate measurements.”
“That was the prevailing belief for a long time. It’s part of why helio-seismology is such a young science. We only recently discovered that the sun has many different layers. By analyzing the P-modes and G-modes, we learn about the composition and density of those layers,” Trevor explained. Most people could care less about what he did.
H
e eased onto the on-ramp, flicking his turn signal as he maneuvered into the flow of traffic.
“So why helio-seismology? That’s an oddly specific field,” Blair said. Trevor was aware that Blair was steering the conversation away from himself, but that was fine for now. There’d be time to find out the circumstances surrounding their flight from Peru after they were safely back at his place.
“When we were kids, my sister Jessie and I called Trevor Spaceboy. We still do. He’s always been an astronomer,” Liz interjected. Leather squeaked as she craned her neck to give Blair a smile. Something significant passed between them, a look that said don’t talk about it. That Liz would keep secrets bothered him, regardless of the circumstances. He’d always assumed she’d trust him with anything.
“I’ve always loved the night sky, but I found helio-seismology in junior high. I was in seventh grade waaay back in 1989, you know, before rocks were invented? Anyway, I saw a news story about how six million people in Canada were without power after a solar event called a coronal mass ejection,” Trevor explained, weaving into the fast lane as the Rover roared to a triumphant eighty miles per hour. “I was a big sci-fi buff, and it seemed so post-apocalyptic to me, the idea that we could all suddenly be without power. I wanted to know what had caused it, so I spent most of that summer in the library. Are you familiar with coronal mass ejections?”
“No, but I can take a stab at what they are from the name,” Blair mused. “Some sort of mass ejected from the sun’s corona?”
“That’s it exactly,” Trevor replied, unable to suppress a grin. Except for his sister and a few professors, he didn’t often get to have conversations like this. “The sun sends out two bursts, the first traveling at the speed of light. It hits our magnetosphere, warning us that the mass of charged particles will be arriving a few days later. Those particles wash through the magnetosphere too, and if they’re strong enough, they surge through our atmosphere like they did back in 1989. There was an even worse event back in 1859, one many times stronger. We didn’t have the kind of instrumentation to track it like we can today, but from what we understand, something like the Carrington Event could be catastrophic if it happened today.
“These events wreak havoc on electronics, and if a wave were strong enough, it could probably knock power out to most of the world. Since replacement transformers only come from a couple different places, it could take the world months to recover. I did my thesis on that possibility, and it got the attention of not just the federal government but a private corporation called HELIOS. They recruited me to a research team that monitors solar flares and other activity; we’re tracking a big one right now, actually. If we see a large enough wave, we’re hoping we can warn the world to turn off the lights before power grids get fried. It’s pretty scary stuff. So how about you, Blair? You seem pretty sharp. What do you do?”
“I’m an anthropologist. I study Meso and South American cultures. You know, pyramids and that sort of—“
“Trevor, I’m starving,” Liz cut in, glaring over her sunglasses at Blair. It was uncharacteristically blunt of her, an obvious attempt to steer the conversation.
“We’re only ten minutes out. I’ve got some venison steaks ready for the grill,” he said, wondering what it was she didn’t want him to know. “So, Blair, you study pyramids and ruins? Is that why you were down in South America?”
“Trev, don’t grill him. We just got here, and it’s been a really stressful couple of weeks. Can we maybe talk about this after dinner?” Liz asked, slumping in her seat. She looked like she’d been through hell.
“It’s all right, Liz,” Blair said, leaning forward until his face was even with her headrest. “Yes, Trevor. I study pyramids. That’s what I was doing in Peru. I don’t want to give you the whole story right now, but we found something that some unfriendly people want very badly.”
“Does it have anything to do with the attacks down in Peru?” Trevor asked, praying the answer was no.
The question seemed to catch the pair totally off guard. Neither answered. Nor would they look at him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Blair was eyeing the door as if he were considering the risks of ejecting himself into traffic. The silence was damning.
“Well, does it?” Trevor asked again, tone firming. He switched on his blinker and glided into the slow lane.
“Listen, Trev, now really isn’t—“ Liz began. He hit his hazards, jamming on the breaks and pulling onto the shoulder in a spray of gravel.
“Think very carefully about your next words, Liz,” Trevor said, his voice as soft as death. “I sent you a big chunk of my savings along with that passport and picked you up at the border, knowing you’ve likely committed some sort of crime. I will not be toyed with or kept in the dark. It’s me, Liz. Let me in on this and I’ll help.” He locked eyes with her, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze.
She was silent for a long moment, face betraying signs of her inner battle. The fact that she even had to think about it suggested whatever she was involved in was worse than he could possibly imagine.
“Blair, we have to tell him. Everything,” she said, not breaking eye contact.
“Liz, there’s no way he’ll believe us. He’s going to think—“ Blair began, raising a hand to his door lock.
“He’ll believe us,” she said, quietly but with the determination Trevor had always loved about her. “I trust him more than anyone. He’s my brother. Look what he’s already done for us.”
“All right,” Blair said, lowering his hand. “Trevor, I don’t know your sister well yet, but I’ve come to trust her. If she thinks you’ll listen, then I’ll tell you the truth, but you’re not going to believe it.”
“Try me,” Trevor said, shifting to face Blair as best he could from the driver’s seat. “We’re not going anywhere until I at least know how you’re connected to those killings.”
“You want to do this, or should I?” Blair asked, turning to Liz. Then the oddest thing happened. Their gazes locked over the rim of their respective sunglasses. Something crackled between them, static electricity, maybe? He had no idea what to make of it.
“It’s your story,” Liz answered, electricity dissipating. She turned to face him. “Trevor, everything he’s about to say is true. You know I wouldn’t lie to you. Hear us out.” She turned back to Blair. “Go ahead.”
“I was called in to study a pyramid in Peru, the oldest ever found anywhere. It appeared all by itself about two months ago,” Blair began, slouching back into his seat. The tension bled from him, as if telling his tale set him free somehow. “The people who built it are far more advanced than anything we’ve ever seen. And before you go there, no; there was no evidence of aliens. No gate with a wormhole to another world. But these people accomplished things we can only guess at.”
Trevor quietly turned back to the road, flicking off his hazards and turning his blinker on. He waited for an opening and then gunned the engine. The Rover roared back into traffic as Blair continued.
“I was called in to find a hidden central chamber the Peruvian government suspected was there. They were backed by the Mohn Corporation,” he said, pausing for a reaction.
“I’ve heard of them. Private mercenaries. Contractors, they call themselves.”
“Mercenaries with an agenda,” Blair gave back. “They were the ones running the show, not the Peruvian government. They knew about the pyramid before anyone else and had already checked the place out before they brought my team in. They held back a lot of important information, like the radiation coming from the central chamber. I watched a good friend wither into a madman.”
Trevor stayed in the slow lane, angling toward the 805 exit. The man seemed earnest thus far, but Trevor had a feeling there was still a bomb to be dropped.
“When I finally solved the puzzle, I sprung a trap. I was injected with something. Something lethal,” he continued, pace slowing as he neared a topic he clearly didn’t want to discuss. “Trevor, I died. My heart stoppe
d. When I woke up, I was in a clinic with your sister. We were attacked by Mohn, but we got away—”
“Bullshit,” Trevor said, drifting past a black Mazda and back into the fast lane. “You don’t just ‘get away’ from Mohn, particularly in a backwater like Peru. If they wanted you dead, they’d have killed you. So how did you ‘get away’?”
“You asked how we were linked to the attacks. Whatever I was injected with turned me into something. It altered my DNA, if your sister’s theories are right. Mohn didn’t let us get away. I tore them apart and they ran,” he finished, turning to stare out the window as if waiting for condemnation.
Silenced reigned for a long time as Trevor considered the story. It was implausible for a lot of reasons, but it didn’t sound like a lie. It couldn’t be a lie, because Liz wouldn’t lie to him, not once he’d confronted her like this. She was scared in a way he’d never seen.
Then there were the attacks, grisly murders that reporters couldn’t explain. Like animal attacks but on a scale that made no sense. As outlandish as Blair’s tale was thus far, it could explain them. Still, something bothered him.
“So you turn into some sort of creature,” Trevor allowed, glancing over his shoulder. “Did you kill all those people, then?”
“No,” Blair said, a little too quickly. “A percentage of those killed come back as the same kind of creature. That’s how the attacks are spreading, at least that’s our best guess.”
“So what kind of creature is this, exactly?”
“Trevor,” Liz interrupted, squeezing his hand in exactly the same way he’d done. “This is the part you aren’t going to believe.”
Chapter 45- Reconciliation
Bridget rose to her feet and began to pace again. It was a precise twelve steps from one corner of the unrelieved white wall to the other, twelve shuffling steps forced by her manacles. The room wasn’t tiny, but it was completely barren. No decorations. No furniture. Nothing to entertain a mind that had grown desperate from boredom.