"Will twenty volunteers be enough?" Emily asked.
"Between our blokes and what Petter can muster, we should be good. Valentine and her lot aren't going to be expecting any kind of assault from outside of the camp. If we're quick and quiet, we should be able to take back the camp with very few casualties."
"And when we do, what about Valentine and her collaborators?"
"I think there has to be a trial," said Mac.
"And then...?"
"Jail? Banishment? Execution? You know what my personal preference would be, but it's going to be up to the people to decide what course of action to take. It ain't my circus and those aren't my monkeys."
They reached the apartment building and were halfway up the stairs when Emily felt the familiar tingle at the back of her skull that signaled Adam had made a connection with her. She stopped, placed a hand on Mac's arm, then sat down on a step. "Hello Adam," she said aloud.
Mac looked at her quizzically, his head slightly cocked to one side.
"Hello, Mommy. Hello, Daddy."
Mac's mouth dropped. He looked around checking that he wasn't the recipient of a practical joke.
"You can hear him?" Emily asked.
Mac looked at her, not saying anything, his eyes wide with surprise. "Yes," he said finally. "I..." His voice trailed away to nothing.
"It's okay, Daddy, you don't have to be scared."
Mac sank down next to his wife on the stair. He reached out and took her hand in his own. "Hello, son. You sound so grown up now" he said, quietly. Emily saw tears welling up in the corner of her husband's eyes. It was true, Adam's voice sounded like a twenty-something man's. But even though his masculinity was obvious, his words were carried on a tone of gentleness; soft, melodic, calm. Kind, but also with an underlying strength that only came from certitude. Like a young priest comforting the bereaved, his voice had an intimateness to it that made her think he was at total peace. Emily squeezed her husband's hand gently, smiling reassuringly.
"I have news for you," Adam said. "I have moved deeper into the memories of the Caretakers, searching for information on the creatures that caused them to deviate from their assigned pathway."
"Locusts," Emily said. "We call them Locusts."
"Locusts, yes, a suitable name for these creatures. The Caretaker memories I have identified are old, deteriorated, but I have studied them and recovered knowledge that may help you. While not as old as the Caretakers, these creatures have existed for millions of years longer than humanity. But like the Caretakers, I believe that they are not a natural product of the universe, rather they are a construction of some older race, perhaps built as a tool or a weapon. And while they are undoubtedly intelligent, they appear to have no use for physical technology, simply relying on their innate ability to reprogram other lifeforms to become their tools or to carry out their bidding. While I cannot be absolutely sure of it, I believe these creatures to be comprised of energy, shedding their physical forms once the resources of the planet they occupy have been consumed, then occupying new bodies on the next, traveling via the hidden lanes that run throughout this universe."
"Hidden lanes?" Mac said.
"There are pathways running through and between galaxies, connecting stars and planets. If found, those lanes can move matter and energy over unimaginable distances in very little time. The Locusts utilize these lanes to travel from one world to the next, just as the Caretakers used them to bring their ships here to Earth."
"Wow!" said Emily.
Adam continued. "The Locusts' needs are simple; they consume everything. They do not seek enlightenment. They do not look to improve theirs or any other species' lot. They merely consume...and move on."
"Do you know when they will come?" Mac asked.
"I do not have the ability to track them finitely, the Caretaker technology is vast and complex and, even with my heightened abilities and capacities, it will take me many hundreds of years to fully comprehend and utilize all that it has to offer. But I am able to sense...disruptions within the energies that encompass the lanes connecting our world."
"And?" said Emily, leaning forward, squeezing Mac's hand tightly.
"And I believe they will be here very soon. You must prepare for their arrival. I detected the demise of the entities that sacrificed themselves for you. More lifeforms have agreed to help you."
Mac looked at Emily, both bewildered by what their son had just said. Emily voiced their confusion, "Adam, I don't think I understand what...Oh!" Her mind connected the dots of what he was trying to tell them. "You mean the Machine, don't you?"
"Yes," Adam continued. "The entity you called the 'Machine' was a collection of creatures that volunteered to help you. They understood that their lives would be lost once you reached the island, their temperature tolerance being limited to only a short duration within colder climates, but still they volunteered."
"Wow!" Emily said again.
Mac said, "You're telling me that the craft that Emily arrived here in was...alive? That it wasn't something that you made, it was built out of other creatures? And that they willingly volunteered?"
"Of course. I have others now who have agreed to render their assistance to you, they are aware of the danger the Locusts pose and will help."
"This is beginning to hurt my brain," Mac said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"You must meet the new craft here..."
Emily felt a new memory form in her mind. She gasped as she recognized the location.
"If I am able, I will tell you when the Locusts arrive, but it will be up to you to find them. You must locate them and you must destroy them before they can shed their corporeal form and move on to the next world. There will not be another chance to stop them. The possibility of another being such as I existing is now beyond improbable. Countless other worlds, other civilizations will fall to the Locusts. It is not only the fate of this planet that now lies in your hands, but innumerable others."
"How are we supposed to destroy them?"
"I will provide you with a solution once you have located them."
"Son, are you all right?" Mac spoke quietly. There was a suggestion of desperation in his voice that Emily had never heard before.
"I am...depleted," Adam said. "The constant absorption of knowledge that flows to me is a drain on my human mind. The systems that preserve me are attempting to adapt my body to accommodate these extra physical stresses, but the growth process is both gradual and painful. Nonetheless, I go on. I persevere."
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Emily asked, automatically, already knowing the answer.
Adam's voice became tender. "Thank you, Mommy, but there is nothing you can do to alleviate these changes. The pain is bearable. The outcome inevitable." Adam paused for a second. "Now, my time is done. You must be at the location I have given to you within the next two days. Farewell."
"I love you, son," Mac whispered, but Adam was already gone.
•••
"Are you okay?" Emily asked, trying but failing to hide the concern from her voice. In all the years she had known her husband, not once had she seen him anxious...until now. His eyes were wide, blinking only occasionally. Sweat ran down his forehead, mingling with a stream of tears and snot. He wasn't bawling, his features remained as stoic and rugged as they ever had, but his emotional distress was as obvious as the sun in the sky.
"Jesus!" he whispered for what must have been the fifth time. "Our son, he's...Christ!...What the hell is he exactly?"
"Still our son; that's what he is."
"But...Jesus!"
Emily took her husband's hand. "I know. I do, really I do. It’s an incredible amount to take in. This is all so overwhelming, so God-damned unfair, but Mac, I tell you now, he is still our son. He's still Adam."
Mac squeezed Emily's hand tightly, then released it. He used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe the tears and snot from his face. He took in a deep breath, puffed it out.
"Better?" Emily asked, smiling sympathe
tically.
Mac nodded, leaned in, took her head in his hands and kissed her on the forehead. He released her and leaned back. "So, where is Adam sending us to pick up the new transport?"
"New York," Emily said. "We're going back to New York."
•••
Emily had a distinct sense of déjà vu as she waited on the concrete dock, watching supplies and personnel being loaded aboard the Vengeance. Rhiannon and Thor stood beside her. The Vengeance was docked at Longyearbyen port, as close as was possible in the shallow water, supplies ferried out to the sub in a flotilla of small watercraft.
"You ready?" asked Mac, crunching through the snow to Emily.
"As we'll ever be," Emily replied. She smiled at her husband. Even in the subzero temperature, she could see beads of sweat on his forehead, a testament to how damn hard a worker the man was.
"Let's get a move on, then, shall we?" Mac helped Rhiannon into a dinghy moored nearby. Thor leapt in too, curling up at Rhiannon's feet. Of all of them, the malamute seemed to be the most at home here on this desolate, frozen island; Emily felt a pang of guilt at taking that away from her four-footed friend.
Mac reached a hand out and helped Emily down into the slowly rising and falling dinghy. He nodded to a Norwegian on the dock. The man untied the mooring line from the metal bollard, then tossed the line into the dinghy. The outboard motor coughed into life and Mac edged the boat out into the choppy water, making a beeline for the Vengeance, the dinghy dipping and rising as it bounced across the water. He pulled alongside the sub and proceeded to reverse the process they had just gone through, tossing a line to a waiting sailor, then helping the women and Thor on deck. The Norwegian sailor who had caught the rope climbed into the dinghy, wished them all luck, and headed back to land.
"Well, this is just like old times," said Emily, smiling at Mac as he walked with his family toward the sub's main access hatch. As they approached it, Mac pulled something that looked like a large piece of folded cloth attached to a coil of paracord from the inside of his jacket.
"What's that for?" Emily asked.
Mac smiled, and rather than answer, called Thor over to him. Mac unfurled the cloth and Emily had to smile when she saw it was a dog harness. He slipped the harness over Thor's head and then fastened it behind his back. "This'll make things a little easier for the old man," he said.
Emily leaned in and kissed her husband on the cheek. "Well you just think of everything," she said.
"I aim to please," Mac replied, with a grin.
Holding Rhiannon's hand, Emily maneuvered the girl to the access hatch, then climbed onto the ladder and down a few rungs until her shoulders were just above the deck of the submarine. "Okay," she said to Rhiannon, "Now just move your foot forward a bit...that's it." She reached out and took Rhiannon's left ankle in her hand. "Now just step forward slowly...perfect." She guided Rhiannon's foot onto the first rung, then repeated the action with her right foot. Emily urged Rhiannon to step down a couple more rungs until the girl was safely between Emily and the ladder. "Now, one foot at a time."
Emily and Rhiannon slowly descended the ladder. "Step off now," Emily said when they were safely inside the sub. Emily guided Rhiannon a little farther into the corridor then stepped back into the pillar of light shining down from the deck access hatch.
"Okay, lower him down," she called up.
In the circle of sky still visible at the top of the ladder, Emily first saw Thor's tail appear then the rest of the malamute as Mac slowly, carefully, lowered the dog down to Emily's waiting arms. Thor seemed completely unfazed by the whole experience, waiting quietly while Emily removed the harness. When she was done, she yelled up to Mac that he could drop the rope. Emily collected the rope as Mac started down the ladder, sealing the hatch behind him.
"This way to our rooms," Mac said, when he had both feet on the floor. He took Rhiannon by the elbow and moved her along the corridor. "Duck your head," he told her as they stepped through the opening of a watertight door.
Their room was at the end of the corridor, near the sub's galley. It was large enough for two people and, as Rhiannon could not be left by herself, Emily would share it with her while Mac would take the berth next door. A number of pieces of fresh clothing, donated by the Norwegians, lay neatly folded on the two beds. There were enough for a week's change of clothes for both Emily and Rhiannon, which was a godsend, as far as Emily was concerned.
Emily guided Rhiannon into the room then spent a couple minutes helping her navigate around it by touch until the girl was confident she could maneuver in the tight confines of the barely three-meter wide cabin.
"I'll arrange for some food to be brought down as soon as we're under way," said Mac.
HOME
CHAPTER 7
A cool breeze blew off the choppy water of the Hudson River as the HMS Vengeance cruised across its surface into the Upper Bay. The submarine adjusted course slightly until it headed toward the west side of Manhattan. The three figures standing on the observation deck of the sub's conning tower stood in silence; just looking. Before them, what had once been the pinnacle of humanity's engineering skills and striving for a better tomorrow now lay obscured behind a tangle of red jungle.
"My God," Emily gasped, unconsciously gripping Mac's forearm. To the sub's left, the unmistakable outline of the Statue of Liberty was still visible rising into the air, hidden beneath a red shroud. Vines had wound around the statue's base and grown upward, twisting their way up the symbol of freedom. Lichen and other vegetation covered every centimeter, until nothing of the original statue was left visible other than its blood-red silhouette.
"I had always imagined that I would visit New York one day," said Petter, "but not like this."
Jersey was nothing now but rolling hills of red, the vast bulk of buildings devoured, Emily imagined, by the same strange fungus that had dismantled the hotels in Las Vegas. Brooklyn had fared a little better; the skeletons of buildings were still visible through the gently swaying cover of red leaves, thick boughs of Titan trees, and tall grass. Gone was the iconic landscape of New York City, the towering skyscrapers vanished, supplanted by alien Titan trees. The human-jungle of buildings and roads replaced by an otherworldly jungle that had obliterated most of the buildings and landmarks. But dotted across the landscape. the remains of an occasional skyscraper still peeked out from behind the jungle like bleached bones; the eviscerated cadaver of humanity's greatest social achievements.
"Engines to one-quarter," Mac said quietly into a microphone.
Emily exhaled a short breath, knowing she was not the only one that felt as though they were entering an ancient sepulcher, her silence an emotional reaction born out of respect for the millions that had been consumed by the red rain in these cities. She was, she realized, quite possibly the only person left on Earth who had ever set foot in that great city, and that weight was a terrible, painful burden to her.
The Vengeance cruised upstream, leaving a v-shaped wake behind it.
Governor's Island was little more than a blood blister floating on the Hudson. To starboard, the wharfs of Red Hook were still visible, the red jungle having stopped about fifty meters from the shoreline, leaving a long gray concrete scar along the river's edge. The rusting hulk of what had once been a huge cruise ship now lay half-submerged in the water, its prow pointing skyward, its once-pristine white paint flaking and dappled with orange. A half-bat half-bird-like creature flew into the air from one broken, rusted porthole on the side of the cruise ship's upper deck, its wings glinting in the afternoon sun as it flapped high into the air then glided out over the remains of Brooklyn.
"There," said Petter, pointing ahead, past the ship's sunken remains.
Emily strained her eyes against the glare of the sun bouncing off the water to see what the Norwegian major was pointing at. It was a large concrete berth, free of any ships or watercraft.
Mac moved a pair of binoculars from around his neck to his eyes and studied the dock for a g
ood minute before speaking. "It looks clear of any debris above water," he said. "Let's give it a shot." He quickly spoke directions into his microphone and the submarine almost immediately began to slow, then angle toward the open mouth of the dock. Mac continued to scan the water ahead of them, looking for any signs of submerged hazards, but within a few minutes the Vengeance edged slowly alongside the dock.
"Engines, all stop," Mac ordered.
The sub came to a complete stop. Within a minute, the deck hatches opened and a group of burly sailors hefted a large metal gangplank from below deck then quickly maneuvered one end over the four-meter gap between the Vengeance and the dock. Another group of sailors jogged over the gangplank onto land, weapons drawn as they fanned out before dropping to one knee. They scanned the open ground between the dock and the edge of the jungle. A third group of sailors followed behind, quickly tying mooring lines from the sub's stern, center, and bow to rusty bollards dotted along the crumbling edge of the pier.
When the sailors were done they retreated onto the deck.
Mac turned to face Emily. "Okay, now what?" asked Mac.
"Now," said Emily, "I guess we wait."
•••
Emily stood alone on the deck of the Vengeance, staring across the jungle in the direction of Central Park, a slight breeze ruffling her hair. Her mind was running back over the events of those first few days after the red rain had come and the change it had brought with it. Those changes were completed now; the old world—humanity's world—was all but gone, buried beneath the carpet of red. The ruins of man's greatest achievements consigned to the same chapter of history that contained the world's other vanished civilizations.
"Mommy?"
Adam's voice startled Emily from her reverie.
"Adam. I'm here," she said to the empty air in front of her. Although she could not see her son, all her other senses told her he was right there, beside her.
His voice floated to Emily again, "I'm sending the transportation to you and Daddy. Tell the others with you not to be afraid."
Extinction Point: Kings (Extinction Point Series (5 book series)) Page 6