The Parabiont Invasion Book 3

by Y. J. Gendron

  Beatrice watched another soldier arrive on the scene. Cornell Williams saw Kowalski with his hands raised and with stupefaction realized what was going on.

  “Easy, Corporal Hillcox, easy,” he said, slowly backing up.

  More soldiers erupted into the hall. Cornell gestured at them to stay behind. All the soldiers were unarmed, having just stepped out of their rooms to grab some chow before getting on with their day.

  “Whatever it is, Paige, we can work it out.” Cornell’s voice was smooth as silk. “Why don’t you put your gun away so that we can talk. How about it?”

  For all answer, Hillcox simply stared ahead, continuing on her path.

  Beatrice sensed a shift in De Rozan’s grip followed a moment later by release. She glanced backwards. The circular mouth of a Colt filled her view.

  Shit.

  There was another brutal shove and she was pushed ahead.

  Behind her, she heard the confused exclamation of soldiers as they enquired about what was going on. Cornell was shushing them down the best he could, his voice calling for attention.

  Up ahead, the main hallway waited. Beatrice noticed that a steel door was propped open with a rubber doorstop, jammed tightly into place. De Rozan shoved her forward and she walked past the door. A moment later, she heard a scuffle followed by the characteristic sound of someone hitting the floor. She turned her head. Kowalski was sprawled to the ground, inert. Before the image had time to register itself in her mind, she saw Hillcox kick the doorstop away and pull the door close. There was a loud clang of noise then shouts from behind the door. Hillcox gripped the security lock with both hands. On the other side, someone was attempting to open the door, tugging the handle. De Rozan watched Hillcox’s struggle and hurried over to the door, letting Beatrice go.

  She bolted.

  Fear and adrenaline coursed through her veins, propelling her forward. Too soon, she heard the sound of the lock sliding into place followed by the pounding of fists on the metal.

  She had only two yards to go before the hallway opened up to the large area, and to safety.

  “Stop!”

  Hillcox’s voice chilled her to the bone.

  She was still one yard out. She dove to the floor.

  The sound of footsteps echoed up the hallway.

  She rolled out of the way, protecting her head with both arms.

  “Miss McKenzie?”

  Sergeant Garcia’s voice engulfed her at once. She turned her head. He was standing twenty feet away, a look of concern on his face.

  “Stand back!” She called in desperation.

  Hillcox surged out of the hallway, weapon in hand. She turned her head toward her main target. Toward the Cube.

  “Paige?” Garcia said, his voice wrapped in uncertainty.

  She turned to where he stood and fired.

  There was a loud rattle as the weapon discharged, superseding everything else. Beatrice heard Garcia cry in pain then the sound of his body hitting the ground. De Rozan stepped around Hillcox and lifted the launcher to his shoulder. Beatrice got to her knees and with an inarticulate shout kicked him behind the knees. He crumpled, dropping the launcher to the floor. From the corner of her eye, she saw Hillcox’s Colt pivot into view. There was a slight quiver to the Corporal’s finger as it kissed the trigger.

  Beatrice squeezed her eyes shut.

  The shot rang out.

  She heard a low thud.

  Hillcox was lying on the floor, her upper torso drenched in blood.

  De Rozan picked the launcher from the ground and hefted it. Beatrice saw someone flash into view, running at great speed. Then, without warning, she heard bodies collide with great force, the noise culminating with the characteristic sound of a bone snapping.

  Then silence.

  Trying to still the heart galloping in her chest, she checked Hillcox’s pulse. It was accelerated but strong. She saw someone come closer. A hand came into view. She grabbed it and felt herself being lifted up. Asalak’s face materialized at once, clear as a bell.

  “Are you all right?” He asked, between breaths.

  She nodded, too shocked to say anything.

  Turning sideways, she saw De Rozan’s body on the ground. He was unconscious, with his nose all crooked and bloody.

  “Stay here,” she heard Asalak say.

  He ran away.

  She stared over to where Garcia lay. The Sergeant sat on the floor, cradling his left arm, a pained expression in his eyes.

  She walked over to him.

  “Sergeant, are you okay?”

  “Never mind me,” he said. “How’s Paige?”

  “Still breathing. I think she was hit in the shoulder.”

  The Sergeant’s eyes closed. “Jesus.” His stare settled on De Rozan’s still form. “And Kyle?”

  “Unconscious. Broken nose for sure,” she said, the words escaping her mouth with a much faster rate than usual.

  “Help me up.”

  Beatrice stepped closer to the soldier. He raised his arm, the one uninjured, and she slid her shoulder underneath him. He counted to three and she lifted him up as he pushed, the two vacillating under the strain.

  “Thank you,” he said, after finding his footing.

  “Don’t thank me. I should be the one doing that,” she said, shaking her head with a sob. “You saved my life.”

  His eyes clouded over. “Help me to her.”

  Propping him up, they slowly made their way over to where the two soldiers lay. At the same time, a rush of bodies erupted from the hallway. Asalak hurried over to her, accompanied by Moffatt and Williams.

  “Let us take over, Beatrice,” Cornell said, easing alongside her.

  She nodded, her mind playing back in a loop what Hillcox and De Rozan had done. She stared at her hands. They shook with uncontrolled nervousness, beyond her capacity to keep them still. The images kept spinning crazily in her mind, a wild kaleidoscope that mashed together the scenes of what she’d just lived through. Then, a specific vision asserted itself. At once, she felt a gauntlet of ice clutch her heart.

  “Oh my God!”

  With a look of despair to Asalak, she ran down the corridor, her heart about ready to explode. She dodged the troops rushing in, dancing right to left and back again, her sight locked to the heavy doors of the rear entrance. She couldn’t run fast enough, even when the hallway fell behind, even when she pushed the doors wide open, even when she exploded out in the open air. The cold wind struck her skin but she ignored it and careened down the hill, all other thoughts left behind. She could hear Asalak’s footsteps behind her, the man following her every move. Up ahead a human figure sat on the ground, looking lost.

  “Noah!”

  The kid’s dark brown eyes didn’t look up. There was a mess of fur on his lap, the sable and white hair matted and dirty.

  Beatrice’s heart sank. “No!”

  She ran over to them and dropped to her knees. Noah turned to her, his stare all wrong. His head was cocked sideways and a trickle of blood completely occulted his ear.

  “She’s hurt,” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

  Beatrice put a hand to Foxy’s head. The dog lifted her head a centimeter, letting out a low whimper. There was a large spot of blood in her side, next to the right hind leg.

  “Oh, Foxy…”

  Not knowing what to do, Beatrice stroke her with a hesitant hand, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. She could sense the Sheltie’s accelerated heart rate through the palm of her hand. It raced with a rapid cadence, matching Foxy’s labored panting.

  “Easy, girl. Easy.”

  The words hung in the air. Foxy’s hind leg twitched and she turned her head a few degrees, to the voice she recognized from any others. She let out another whimper, even more feeble than before.

  “Easy, love.”

  She heard Asalak run off. “I’ll get Kalxin,” he called, his voice sounding as pained as Noah’s.

  Beatrice’s whole universe shrunk with
each of Foxy’s breath, with each of her moans.

  Noah sat, transfixed, refusing to move, to think. His head hurt like crazy but he refused to let it bother him. He was here to support Foxy. To support Beatrice.

  And when she turned to him, her eyes so impossibly sad, he knew he would never forget them… for as long as he lived.

  11 Insertion

  Vokug observed the pandemonium with satisfaction. Events had not proceeded exactly as planned, but it was even better in a sense. ‘The puppets have failed,’ the voice said, directly inside his head. ‘Proceed as planned.’

  Though the voice was distracting, he welcomed it anyway, enjoying the closeness of the contact. Tebayi was a ferocious entity, one he admired, respected, feared… and loved. There were no uncertainties with her: you either had her trust, or you didn’t.

  And if you didn’t, you were her enemy.

  He knew she polarized opinions among those who followed her. Those who embraced her vision of the future were way too extremist for Asalak’s more sensible approach.

  But sensibility during times of war was a luxury no one could afford.

  They had to have control.

  Control of their future.

  Of the future.

  Slipping away from where the puppets lay on the ground, he stepped into the shadows, hugging the high walls of the room. It was his first time inside the restricted area, inside the private space where the others worked. Only officers were allowed here, but with Hillcox and De Rozan shooting up the place, he had managed to make his way inside, unnoticed.

  Hugging the concrete walls, he hurried out to the objective. The Cube was calling to him, a beacon of possibilities in a vacillating world. According to Tebayi, a new destiny would await them… if he was successful.

  But first, he had to wait.

  ‘Stand-by,’ the voice said, as if in response to what he’d been thinking.

  He was standing about thirty feet away from the Cube’s entrance. He could see the security panel that granted access. It was the only piece of tech around, save for the natural-gas powered heating units hanging from the rafters. Looking up at them, he noticed there were four of them, one in each corner, though at the moment only two worked, the blue flames easily visible even from the ground.

  Back near the hallway, he saw the doctors attend to those hurt. He watched as Marilisa Leyland staunched the flow of blood oozing from Hillcox’s wound, a concerned expression on her face. Williams and Moffatt rushed to her side, maneuvering a gurney into position.

  ‘Get ready.’

  He felt his heart skip a beat then resume its normal rhythm.

  How weird it was. To have someone else’s heart.

  He shifted his gaze to the Cube. There wasn’t much time left. Soon, he knew, Graves would lock everything down and force everyone out of the room.

  Something had to give, and right now.

  The security panel’s light flickered twice then switched off.

  ‘Go.’

  He raced off. Vokug was tall, heavily built, with the body of a hockey player. The powerful legs propelled him with maximum efficiency and a few seconds later he reached the door.

  ‘Wait.’

  He took position alongside the opening, flattening his back against the wall.

  The door opened, pushed out from the interior.

  A man stepped out.

  He recognized him at once.

  Eklan.

  Not waiting for the confirmation he knew was coming, he pressed a needle-like device against the back of his neck. Eklan gave a short sigh and crumpled, senseless. Vokug caught him by the elbows and settled his body to the ground.

  Got him.

  ‘Go in,’ the voice urged. ‘Now.’

  Vokug slipped between the door and the frame and disappeared inside. He let the door close behind him and hurried over to the target.

  The stack overshadowed everything else in the room. It was a glowing assemblage of focused power, shining forth with purpose. He knew what it was. Tebayi had guessed its function as it was being built, channeling Asalak’s intentions. At first, the plan had been to destroy it, plain and simple. Then, Tebayi had settled on an even better idea. One that might be even more providential.

  He approached the structure, staring at the engraved decagons glimmering with steadfast intensity. The object’s size and complexity was impressive and he admitted to himself that Asalak and Eklan had worked wonders with the resources they had on hand. It was a beautiful thing to behold. There was Amilaki grace to the design and its eloquence wasn’t lost to him.

  But he had something to do.

  He extracted a tiny octagonal-shaped tube from a hidden slot in his belt. The tube was small, even for Amilaki tech, but it was the contents that were truly singular. With utmost care, he pressed the tube to one of the blinking decagonal devices. There was an almost inaudible click and with amazement, he watched the tube burrow its way beneath the surface. Then, with a tiny burst of light, the tube ruptured. A cloud of microscopic, nanosized infiltrators dispersed at once through the stack, finding refuge at once within the central matrix.

  His job done, Vokug made his way outside the Cube. He closed the door and waited.

  The panel lighted up and he heard the bolt slide back into place.

  Staring at Eklan still lying prone on the floor, he made a move to finish what he’d started.

  But the voice advised against it.

  ‘You need to get out, now.’

  What about Eklan?

  ‘Leave him… he may still yet be of use.’

  He hesitated.

  ‘Vokug. I need you by my side.’

  Tebayi’s words jolted him and he hurried off, without a backward glance. As he rushed between the soldiers still crowding the corridor, the voice of Colonel Graves boomed down from the PA system.

  “I want all non-essential personnel to go back to the common area. I repeat: non-essential personnel to the common area, on the double.”

  Striding down the hallway, he nodded with curt acknowledgements to those who crossed his path, evading their stares. Nobody blocked his way as he left the dormitory behind and walked towards the rear entrance, to the one he had used to infiltrate the unit in the first place.

  He closed in on the door, put his hand to the aluminum crossbar and pushed.

  “Hold that door, soldier,” a voice called from ten feet away.

  He froze.

  He knew that voice.

  Asalak.

  The traitor was squatting next to a woman with a mess of reddish hair. Another traitor, Kalxin, faced them, attending an injured animal lying on a piece of clothing. Neither Kalxin or Asalak were looking up, their attention focused on the dog.

  This was his chance. He could take care of them both and end their misguided actions with a few well-placed blows.

  ‘No.’

  ‘But they’ll never know what hit them.’

  ‘Leave them.’

  He understood Tebayi’s decision. His mission had been a complete success thus far. He risked being captured if he went on the offensive. And being captured meant Graves would worry about his presence in the compound, and what he’d been up to in the first place.

  It was too great of a risk.

  So he pivoted on his heels and walked away, hurrying off without a backward glance.

  “Let’s get her inside,” Kalxin said.

  Asalak turned to his friend. The Amilaki was both a scientist and a veterinarian, the marriage made possible by a particularly efficient matching of the parabiont to its human host. Kalxin was rather unique in this aspect. Most of Dr. Henry Sopp’s knowledge, accumulated along the years, was accessible to him so even though he had no formal training in animal medicine, Kalxin knew what to do.

  With a silent nod, Asalak lifted the dog in his arms.

  Beatrice stood alongside, her mind whirring with questions. But she didn’t want to find the answers. Not right now.

  Like an automaton, she f
ollowed both men inside the plant. The earlier chaos had abated but there was still a buzz of energy echoing in the place, like an aftershock. Soldiers and medical staff hurried from one place to the next, carrying blankets and medical supplies. As they approached the area that had been setup for medical needs, Kalxin hurried forward, searching for something. Beatrice noticed Doctor Leyland cross the open space with haste, going from one treatment room to the next. She vanished behind the olive-green curtains of a section partitioned off from the others, followed close behind by Nurse Allston.

  “This way.”

  Kalxin had found an empty space, the last one available in the Medical area. It was small and was used to store supplies but it would do the job. There was a gurney already setup, along with a pillow and an empty chair.

  “Put her there.”

  Beatrice’s breath caught in her throat.

  Asalak’s shirt was stained with blood.

  With great care, the Amilaki deposited the Sheltie on the mattress then stepped back to let Kalxin work.

  “I need an instrument tray.”

  Beatrice nodded, turning to Asalak. “I’ll get it.” She heard him say.

  Her heart went out to him. He understood her unspoken desire to stay at Foxy’s side. Though it might have been an alien concept to him, he still respected the deep bond that existed between her and Foxy.

  “Hold her steady,” Kalxin said.

  She saw him pull something from a pocket. She recognized the Amilaki design at once. Compact and smooth, the device had the same eerie light show as the rest of their tech. He thumbed the surface and the pattern of symbols solidified into a new emblem. She had no clue what it meant but she guessed it was the Amilaki equivalent of the caduceus, the symbol traditionally used to depict medicine.

  He closed his eyes for a few seconds, his hand hovering an inch away from Foxy’s forehead. Then, with a sure hand, he placed the device between the Sheltie’s eyes. Beatrice stared in amazement as Foxy’s rapid breathing eased, becoming normal again. A moment later, she was fast asleep.