The Parabiont Invasion Book 3

by Y. J. Gendron

  It was her turn to frown. “Are you saying he’s infected by some kind of virus?”

  He nodded. “But not in the strict biological sense. It’s more as if his Amilaki core had been affected, not the Human body.”

  Her eyes went wide. “Oh…”

  “Asalak, you’ve got to see this.”

  The call cut across the chorus of voices filling the hall. Kalxin raised his hand and they joined him to where he stood, about 20 feet away from the Cube’s only door.

  “What is it?”

  The elderly man’s eyes seemed even dimmer than usual and Beatrice thought he looked sick. Even his voice was lower than normal when he said: “Look at this.”

  Asalak gripped the compact display screen from his hands. Beatrice inched closer, finding a spot between the two men. There was a spiral of symbols and numbers on the screen, characteristic of the Amilaki interface she was getting used to seeing. She couldn’t make sense of it, but when Asalak’s breath caught, she knew it meant trouble.

  “What’s wrong?” She asked, looking at both men in turn.

  “It’s Eklan. He’s attempting to hack into the AI,” Kalxin said, the apprehension clear in his voice.

  “He can do that?”

  It was Asalak that answered. “Of course.” He nodded at the stack. “The disruptor is a collaborative effort. We each programmed our cores. They are separate for safety reasons, but he knows the overall system as well as I do… perhaps even better.”

  Beatrice glanced at the men working on the door. They had drilled a hole through the thick metal skin of the door and where now trying to disengage the locking mechanism from the outside. She turned back to the Amilaki. “Why is this such a problem? I mean he’s locked himself inside but what damage can he do? This AI of yours. It’s still offline, right?”

  “Correct,” Asalak said.

  “So…?”

  Both Amilaki looked at each other.

  Beatrice sighed. “Listen, guys, you got to tell me what’s going on if you want me to help. Unless you think I’m too stupid or something.”

  “It’s not that at all,” Asalak assured, shaking his head.

  “Then, what is it?”

  Asalak shot another glance at Kalxin. The older man shrugged, spreading his arms wide at the same time.

  “Just say it!” Beatrice said, lifting both arms in the air.

  “We screwed up.” Asalak’s stare turned faraway. “I screwed up.”

  The wretched look in his eyes was as shocking to Beatrice as the revelation from his lips. She had never seen him so distraught and nervous.

  “The AI is offline. That’s the good news. It is in still in silo mode, still not yet linked with the outside world, with what you call the ‘Net.” There was a sudden downcast to his shifting stare. “But the Coalescence is already inside the AI.”

  She glanced at both men, puzzled.

  “Yes, Beatrice. Our collective intelligence is now part of the machine,” Asalak said, his voice sounding as if it was about to break.

  There was a look of stupefaction on her face. “I don’t understand.”

  Asalak’s whole being seemed to crumble in front of her eyes. “We thought it would be safe there. I thought it would be safe.” His voice was full of worry. “But I see now it was a mistake. A terrible, terrible mistake.”

  She took a step closer and gripped his hand. Asalak’s stare was turned to her but she realized he was looking someplace else, somewhere inside himself. “You see,” he went on, “After the events in the warehouse, I was determined to secure our survival. It’s a sad fact that it is our own infighting which caused this situation.” He shook his head. “Tebayi’s vision clashed with my own’s, with everyone’s else; but I should have found a way to work with her, instead of against her.”

  He glanced at the men working on the door.

  “You were right not to trust us.”

  He took a step backward. “I regret what we have done to you. What we have done to your friends. What we have done to the men and women of this world.”

  “Every creature fights for survival” she said, surprised by her own words, by their innate truth. “Even highly civilized ones.”

  He made a face. “It still doesn’t atone our actions.”

  “No, but your next ones might.”

  He looked at her and nodded.

  “Is the Coalescence at risk?” Beatrice asked, fearing the answer.

  “Yes. Eklan can erase it with a simple command.”

  Beatrice shook her head in disbelief. “But he won’t do it, right? I mean, what would be the use?”

  “None,” Kalxin interjected.

  “Then what is he doing?”

  “It’s unclear at this point.”

  “You must have theories,” she retorted.

  “Yes,” Asalak admitted, though it seemed to pain him. “We have a few.”

  “I’m all ears,” Beatrice said, crossing her arms.

  “And so am I.”

  Colonel Graves’ baritone voice dropped over their heads, like a mobile PA system. The heavyset man maneuvered his way alongside the trio, his face as taught as the muscles bunched up underneath his shirt.

  “Go ahead Asalak,” he said, after acknowledging them with short nods.

  “We think he could use the Coalescence against us.”

  “How?” Graves said, his voice rising above the din.

  Kalxin answered. “The AI.”

  “What about it?”

  “He might be able to use it as a weapon.” Kalxin turned to Asalak. “We think he could deploy the AI in your infrastructure, have it take over your networks. It would be a powerful entity if it siphons knowledge from the Coalescence. A very powerful one.”

  “This is not good,” Graves said.

  “No, Colonel,” Asalak admitted, his stare darting from one person to the next.

  The sound of the drill eased then stopped altogether. “Colonel!” A voice said from near the door. “We’re ready!”

  Graves spun on his heels and regrouped with the soldiers. Beatrice followed the Amilaki and took position ten feet away from where the soldiers stood. The industrial-grade door was punctured by a latticework of holes that still smoldered from the heat generated by the drill. A sharp odor of burnt metal accompanied the whiskers of dark smoke as they wafted up to the rafters. The holes had been drilled around the lock and Beatrice realized that with one swift hit, it would be rendered useless. She saw Graves nod in the direction of Chris Moffatt. The Private swung a large and heavy mass at the door. There was a resounding boom followed by the sound of eight men rushing the door. The door slammed against the wall, revealing the Cube’s interior. She craned her neck to see what was going on. The soldiers hurried inside, aiming their weapons every which way. There was a flicker of movement behind the row of displays lined up on the metal tables.

  “There!” One of the soldiers called, indicating the figure huddling in the shadows.

  “Don’t shoot!” Graves ordered, making his way inside.

  Beatrice saw Asalak cross the door’s threshold. She hesitated for a millisecond then followed him inside. Turning her head back to Kalxin, she saw that the old man was waving at her to proceed. His face looked as if it was made of wax and she thought he looked even more sick than before. She gave him a quick nod then turned back to see what was going on inside the Cube.

  That’s when she realized how quiet it had suddenly become.

  She was standing a few feet from Asalak and maybe a dozen feet or so from Graves and the soldiers. Expecting the soldiers to jump Eklan and wrestle him to the ground, she noticed with bewilderment that they were still at arm’s reach out, transfixed into immobility. She stared, startled, at Graves. The Colonel had his hand up, pointing directly to Eklan. He, too, was immobile, a frown of consternation etched on his face.

  What the…?

  Beatrice took a step forward and circled around Asalak. She saw his eyes shift her way, the movement taking an
eternity to her frazzled mind. He could only stare out as she pushed past him, his body rooted to the floor like a utility pole. Turning to the soldiers, she felt her heart sink at once. They, too, had turned into statues. They all gaped at their surroundings with confusion in their eyes, aware of their situation but powerless to change it.

  From the corner of her eye, she saw Eklan move away from the shadows. She stared at him as he came forward, the fear building within her. His features were distorted by pain. The eyes, dark and terrible, quivered with uncontrolled energy, the pupils dilated beyond normality. It was too much for her and she began to back away, dismayed by what had befallen him.

  He saw her hesitation and rushed forward.

  “Eklan,” she said, her voice breaking. “You can fight it.”

  There was a flicker of change on his tormented face. He mouthed something that she couldn’t make out. Then realization struck.

  It was just one word, but it exploded in her heart like a nuclear bomb: “Trish?”

  She heard the acknowledgement as if someone else had spoken it. “Yes?”

  “Who am I?”

  The question caused a tsunami of doubt inside her. She had the horrible sensation that her answer would plunge him into madness. She so desperately wanted him back, like the way he used to be. But she’d been told that it was impossible, that Asher’s trauma had been too severe.

  That he was irrevocably gone.

  Yet, she couldn’t help thinking that maybe they’d been wrong.

  The parabiosis was new to the Amilaki. Maybe, somehow, with time, the bond between parabiont and host changed, even evolved. God knew she didn’t want to hurt him, but this was perhaps the only chance she had of bringing Asher back.

  She had to try.

  Eklan, I’m sorry.

  “Who am I?” Eklan repeated, his words like the desperate pleas of those drowning in the ocean.

  Settling her nerves, she steeled herself. His whole body was coiled, as if he was ready to pounce on her and possibly rip her to shreds. She had no idea what was going on inside the cranium of the man standing before her. He could be angel or demon, or neither, or both.

  But could he be both Eklan and Asher?

  “You are Asher Sullon,” she said in a whisper. She saw a tiny spark of light in the too-wide pupils. Then an indisputable conviction exploded inside her head.

  Raw. Powerful. Impossible to deny.

  And she simply had to blurt it out. “You are Eklan of Ukun.”

  The illumination inside the Cube brightened as a horrid scream filled the air. Eklan’s face melted into pain and he fell to his knees. He looked up at her. Tears streaked down his face.

  She knelt down next to him and grabbed his shoulders.

  “Beatrice,” he wheezed, fighting to remain conscious.

  “Yes. I’m here.”

  He pressed both hands to his skull.

  “Help us.”

  And with a foreboding sense of doom, she watched him collapse to the floor, insensate.

  16 The Cube

  Beatrice felt her powerful presence at once. Close by. Outside the door.

  Tebayi.

  She shot a glance at Asalak. Though he was rooted in place, she noticed that his gaze was keen, aware.

  He’s still conscious.

  She carefully set Eklan’s head to the ground and after a short hesitation hurried over to the other Amilaki.

  “Is there something I can do?” She said, drilling her stare into his own’s. “Asalak?”

  His gaze shifted slightly to the left.

  She followed it across the room.

  The bank of displays were throwing a kaleidoscope of imagery unto the polished steel surfaces of the tables. Behind them, the machine she’d labeled ‘the stack’ stood like a phantasmagoric sentinel, a monolith among the more mundane furnishings of the room. A mess of power couplings and thick cables snaked out from its base and joined up into a thick bundle that ran along the length of the floor, an ungallant solution probably due to the short time frame involved. She followed the bundle with her eyes until it disappeared inside a large, ten-feet wide by ten-feet high, electrical power unit. She realized that the unit must function like a miniature power center, driven by its own independent source of energy.

  She glanced back at Asalak.

  His eyes had stopped moving.

  So that’s the key. The power source. He wants me to shut it down.

  The unit’s facade was a sheer slab of aluminum with nary a lever in sight. Only one, single, source of light indicated there was power inside the cabinet.

  That thing is more battery than machine. How do you stop a battery from working?

  There was only one way. She had to severe the tie between the stack and its power source.

  But how?

  The cables seemed hard-wired from one end to the other. There wasn’t a plug she could simply pull, or breakers to snap off.

  That would have been too easy, of course.

  Thinking hard, she followed Asalak’s stare once again. Was she missing something?

  There was a noise right outside the door.

  Shit!

  She had to do something, now!

  Galvanized by the clock spinning in her mind, she ran over to the stack, dropped to her knees and pulled the thick snake of cables as hard as she could. The wires tugged, refusing to give. She pulled again, harder.

  “Tssk, tssk,” a voice said from behind her.

  Beatrice turned to the voice.

  A soldier, stocky and with a somber look, appeared in the doorway. She had seen this man before though had never spoken to him. He was holding up a device with both hands, handling it with utmost care. The object, the size of a toaster-oven, glowed with the characteristic signature of Amilaki tech; an intense display of light that seemed to defy earthly conventions. A flexible, hose-like, appendage went around his waist, casting a glow that clashed with the surrounding light. This hose was attached to a flat and heavy-looking piece of machinery, which he carried on his back with effortless ease, as if the apparatus weighed nothing.

  Beatrice let the cable drop and took a step backward.

  Vokug eased forward, thrusting the device forward with both hands.

  Around her, those that were paralyzed twitched at once, a jerking movement that made her jump back in fright. He moved his arms again and the statues jolted, defenceless against the power he wielded over them.

  Behind him, a group of people appeared, fanning out into the room.

  Beatrice recognized some of them. Scar Man was there, as well as the other Alaska Park Ranger, the one called George. Her old boss, Carl Oliver, also came into view, looking around with a satisfied smirk; but it was the lithe figure of a stupefyingly beautiful woman that caught her attention.

  The woman captured the light and draped it around her like an heavenly cloak. She had seen her before and though her beauty was still intact, there was an edge of the sinister to her appearance, as if the veneer required to maintain the illusion was beginning to crack.

  Tebayi swiveled her head around, settling to each of the transfixed individuals standing in the room.

  Beatrice felt a river of cold go down her spine. She had no way out, no chance of escape and no one around able to help her.

  “You, again,” Tebayi said, a smile growing on her pale lips. “Interesting.”

  Beatrice straightened, trying to reign in her galloping heart. She didn’t know what was going to happen and that scared the bejesus out of her.

  What can I do against a dozen of them, against their powers?

  “You’re always at the right place at the right time.” Tebayi’s gait was as smooth as her voice. “Like a pest that refuses to go away.”

  “I could say the same of you,” Beatrice countered, working her throat to get the words out.

  Tebayi’s blue eyes glittered against the stack’s diffused glow. “Spunky, to the last.” She stopped walking and drilled her eyes into the other youn
g woman’s stare. “It’s too bad you can’t be swayed to work with us… we could accomplish so much together.”

  There was a shift in Beatrice’s stance.

  “Oh, that’s right, You don’t know.”

  “Don’t know what?” Beatrice asked, sensing the terror rise within her.

  “Why you can’t be influenced, can’t be controlled like the rest of them,” Tebayi said, opening her arms to take in those rendered immobile.

  Beatrice’s eyes widened in stupor.

  She had no idea what Tebayi meant, and that scared her even more.

  “I pity you.” Tebayi whispered, shaking her head as if in compassion. “You’re so clueless about your own fate.”

  Beatrice’s fists tightened. “Why don’t you enlighten me?”

  Tebayi smiled but there was no warmth in it. “Oh, I will, I will… when the time is right, but it’s not quite there, yet. Let me just say that you have a gift inside you, one you weren’t destined to have.”

  A sensation of dread flowed into Beatrice’s heart.

  Somehow, she knew that Tebayi was speaking the truth. She had relegated the thought to the depths of her mind, scared by what it could mean.

  But…

  It would give sense to the terrifying visions that kept blowing up in her head like supernovae.

  I’m different.

  It pained her to even acknowledge the possibility, but there it was.

  Nothing is never without reason.

  The thought bubbled up from memory, like a life vest in rough seas.

  But it wasn’t her voice. It was Asalak’s.

  She veered her head to him. The pupil of his right eye dilated but a fraction of a centimetre but it was enough for her to understand that he was still with her, that he was still trying to help her.

  The telepathic link between them was dead.

  It was surely due to Tebayi’s new device, the one the soldier brandied about like a weapon.

  She had to find a way to communicate with Asalak. Perhaps she, herself, could initiate the link. She had never entertained the thought before but now that it took form, she couldn’t let it go.

  She had to try.

  Asalak?

  Forget it, my dear.