An expression of weariness formed on Ooze’s face, but the tone of his voice indicated irony. “I’m not taking their side. My knowledge download is telling me this is great science. My guess is Peterson is building an army, and he’s testing out his critters on the rest of us.”
“He also threatened us with some kind of weapon,” Stander said. “I asked Washington about it, but they’ve received no message.”
Angela chimed in. “Maybe he’s making sure his army works before he sends out his threat—”
“Or maybe he’s bluffing,” Stander said, but added, “I have a feeling he is. My training tells me that, but I’ve been wrong before.”
Angela had woken and came to join them. Her face wore a look of curiosity. “And how exactly would you know what he’s thinking?”
Stander eyed her and spoke in the dry and calm manner of a professor giving a lecture. “I studied communications in university before I joined the Rangers. ‘The media is the message.’ That’s one of the old sayings my professors used to tell us in their lectures.
“I also learned about various scenarios terrorists use when they issue their demands. One of them is to follow up the initial threat with a more specific demand, along with a video. They may even stoop so low as to show an execution or something almost as vile. Peterson might be a monster, but he’s still got a human mind—or most of one—near as I can figure. If he’d wanted something specific, like money or weapons, he’d have stated his demands by now.”
On the surface, it all made sense, but Paul knew they’d entered a world where the rules of ordinary warfare and communications didn’t apply. They were up against an enemy that did not value human life at all and didn’t care about murder. To make matters worse, they also seemed invincible, with the exception of their short shelf life.
Silence fell and no one bothered to look at each other until Angela asked the obvious question. “Why were they attacking Bertha?”
Stander offered a grunt. “We carry a lot of the latest weaponry and equipment. Maybe they were after that. Or maybe he wanted to test his soldiers against the best we had to offer.”
“Or maybe…” said Paul and fell silent, as a thought suddenly struck him. It was so simple he should have realized it earlier on. “Maybe they were after something else—or someone else.”
All eyes turned on him. “Who are we talking about?” asked Ooze.
“You,” he answered. “They want you.”
Chapter Seven
Threats and Action
“Me?” asked Ooze in a flat voice that suddenly verged into surprised territory. His attitude usually wavered between sarcastic and phlegmatic, but he seemed genuinely shocked. “Why would they want me?”
“It’s the knowledge you carry,” Stander said, nodding as if the truth was self-evident. “You said Bolson downloaded his mind into you. You don’t have his personality, but you have his secrets.”
If water could look thoughtful, then Ooze’s expression resembled Rodin’s Thinker. “I don’t know how I know what I know,” he said after a time. “I just do. The knowledge Bolson gave me? It comes and goes, like it’s somehow been pigeonholed into every molecule of water in me. Sometimes I have a brilliant thought and sometimes not.”
Stander furrowed his brow and a series of fine lines appeared. “Do you have total recall?”
Ooze nodded. “In a sense, yeah, I do. Once the information surfaces, I remember everything.”
As Paul observed the exchange of ideas, he realized Peterson’s endgame—at least part of it. In order to solve the problem of molecular instability, he needed a way to counteract the breakdown process, and Ooze carried that knowledge. Obviously, Peterson had managed to recreate the chambers to bring life to those monsters. However, he hadn’t been able to create anything that didn’t break down first.
The last thought made him shudder. Call it an untenable situation. It couldn’t be allowed to happen, but right now Peterson had the edge. No one knew where he was, except for one person.
“We’ll be at the base in about twenty minutes,” Hawkins said. “They damaged Bertha, which is why I can’t go at top speed, and the antenna must be down again. I can’t get through.”
“Then the world will have to wait for us until we get back to base,” replied Stander and he sounded testy. “Once we get back, though, Ooze, you’re going into isolation with maximum security. If Paul is right, if those things are out there, then they’ll attack the base.” He threw a worried look at everyone. “And we have no way of contacting them.”
“Let me out here,” Angela said as she made her way to the door. “It’s still night, around eleven-thirty. I can fly over and warn them.”
This wasn’t the best idea in the world. “Hang on a second,” Paul said. “They don’t know you. They’ll probably shoot—”
“I’ll take my chances,” she interrupted and kissed him hard.
Stander offered a brief nod. “Go. Be careful.”
After giving a quick wave, she disappeared out the door. Her form, outlined by her cape, illuminated her path back to the base. “Floor it,” commanded Stander, and the vehicle shot forward.
A moan from inside made them turn their heads around. The porcupine girl had woken up and was now sitting against the wall with a dazed expression on her face. Stander walked over to the cell. “I’m going to assume you understand English.”
“Yeah, I do,” she answered in high, almost childlike voice and she rubbed the back of her head. “What’s going on here?”
Stander smirked. “Just so you know, Miss, you’re a prisoner of the United States Armed Forces. You belong to us. We want information, and we’d prefer to get it the easy way. It’s your choice.”
Turning over on her side, she hesitantly put her hand on the floor, staring at it as she did so. A moment later, she got to her feet. “I’m sorry about what I did in the field to that vampire girl. It was really dark, and I didn’t know where I was or who you were. Are you good people?”
“I’d like to think we are,” Stander replied. “The question is, are you?”
At once, the girl startled to babble out how scared she was when she’d set foot in the field for the first time. Repeating her earlier statements, she said it had been dark and she’d been frightened. It got tiresome very quickly, but as Paul listened to her speak, he realized she was much younger than he’d first suspected.
At first he’d thought she was around his age. Upon closer examination, from the vocabulary she used and the sound of her voice, she seemed to be around fifteen at the most. “What’s your name?”
Abruptly, her mouth clamped shut. Her lips trembled and she blinked her eyes rapidly. Finally, she shook her head and said, “I don’t remember. I woke up in a room and saw all these…these monsters looking at me.”
“Can you remember the room or the city or anything else?”
Another headshake. “No, just that the guy in charge—I think it was a guy. He had a body like a…a shaved bear and a head like a shark, sort of. He had lots of legs and arms, too.”
“How about the others,” Stander pressed. “How many were there?”
She bit her lip. “There were…two others. One of them was a guy, an Asian guy. He wore a kind of silver suit. It was real dirty, and he had burn marks all over his face.”
Hija… It had to be Hija. “Let me guess,” Paul interjected. “The other guy looked like a centipede or a big slug—brown, bad attitude?”
“Yeah, I saw him. I didn’t see anyone else, just some chambers and stuff.”
Chambers… She must have been in one of their research labs. The only question was where. “Why were you in the field?”
The girl started to cry. “They made me come with them.”
“When was this?” demanded Stander.
She sobbed some more then took in a series of deep breaths, sh
uddering all the while. Eventually, she calmed down enough to ask, “What time is it?”
He looked at his watch. “It’s almost midnight.”
The crying started once more, and in between sobs, she hiccupped and eventually got herself under control. “It was daytime when we came here.”
“Go on,” he pressed.
She held her hands to the side of her head, massaging her temples, as if to draw out the details. “They told me once I got out that I could go home. I don’t know where home is. I don’t remember my name. I wandered around until dark. Then I saw this vampire girl, and I got scared and—”
She stopped to look at her hands then swept them down the rest of her body. “What did they do to me?” she wailed. She turned around and noticed her tail, and the wailing started in earnest. “What did they make me into?”
Paul felt a strong tug of sympathy, but Stander’s face resembled a stone statue’s, silent and impersonal. He motioned with his head, and they walked out of range. “Think she’s a spy?” Paul asked.
“Wouldn’t you?”
This wasn’t exactly a cut and dried case. “Maybe she is,” Paul answered, thinking fast, “but we know one thing. She’s a hybrid, like me. If she were like the zombie guy, she would have dissolved by now.”
“I could take a test,” said Ooze from the communications section, “but I’d need time to make sure.”
Stander blew out a deep breath. “We don’t have time.” He turned to Hawkins and asked, “How much longer?”
“Ten minutes, sir.”
With a sigh, Stander turned back to the cell and took the keys out of his pocket. “I’m taking a chance on letting you out. It’s against my better judgment, but I’m doing this. Keep in mind that if you make one wrong move, I’ll shoot you. You look on the teen side to me, but right now, I don’t care if you’re a minor.”
She swallowed hard and wiped her eyes. “I’ll try to help.”
After unlocking the door, she walked out with her head down and sat in the nearest chair, her attitude meek and mild. For his part, Paul watched her, but she didn’t move, and he hoped they’d be in time to help out if necessary.
****
They weren’t. As Hawkins steered the creaking Bertha into base, they found nothing but the smoking remains of crushed and overturned vehicles. The barracks and other administrative buildings had been destroyed, and rubble littered the road. Nothing had been left standing save one building, the hangar where the plane was.
Even through the closed door, the smell of charred flesh crept in to assault their noses. The stink was horrible. “Jesus God,” breathed Stander, as they arrived. He got out and surveyed the carnage, arms hanging loosely at his side. “What have they done?”
Hawkins got out with him. “I’ll search for survivors.”
He took off on the run, passing by Angela, who walked over wearing a stunned expression on her face. “What happened?” Paul asked.
“I don’t know,” she replied in a small voice. “I saw smoke rising. I landed and saw…this.” She swept her arm around to indicate the devastation. “They must have come in after we left.”
“But why—” Paul began.
“To make a statement,” ground out Stander between clenched teeth. “They want us to know they’re here, and they want us to know how strong they are. It’s as simple as that.”
He turned to the girl who was staring at the carnage with her hands over her mouth. “You see this? I want specifics, and I want them now!”
The very savagery of his question made her jump. “I told you that I don’t remember,” she protested. “Like I said, I woke up in some kind of room with these chambers in them. They looked like big eggs. I saw things staring at me. The large, shark-head guy—the other two guys called him ‘doctor’—told me that if I came with him, he’d let me go, and now…” She looked lost.
“Peterson,” breathed Paul.
Stander’s face purpled with rage, and he began to curse, but Angela took command and waved him off. Quickly, she put her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “Hey, I know you’re confused and scared, but we need to know. Can you describe the room in as much detail as you can?”
The girl nodded. She shook all over as she related her story of how she’d come to be. It was a big room, underground, as light streamed in from cracks in the ceiling. She remembered seeing four chambers with different shapes in them. Scared, she recalled coming out of the chamber and coming face to face with something only a mother alien could love—Peterson. “He had this deep, hoarse voice and he kept saying they’d let me go soon. They did.”
With a look of fear on her face, she looked down at herself. “Am I always gonna look this way? What am I?”
It was pretty obvious, but since no one offered an answer, Ooze took up the slack. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he said, “but you look like a porcupine.”
Immediately, the fearful expression disappeared from her face and a glimmer of rage crept into her eyes. “So they made me an animal?” A quiver went through her voice, but then a hardened expression settled over her face, like cement. “All right, I’m an animal. I’ll deal.” She looked at everyone else. “Are all of you real or did they make you, too?”
“I’m real, like you are,” Paul said. “I’m a hybrid. Angela and Ooze and another guy on our team”—he looked around, searching for Sandstorm, then spotted him entering the hangar—“were, uh, created.”
“Created,” she echoed and her rage started to fade, replaced by a terrible emptiness in her voice. She brought up a delicate paw to scratch the back of her head. “Sorry…my head itches.” She then brought her hands together in a kind of prayer-like gesture. “I must’ve been a girl once. I don’t remember where I came from or why they did this to me.”
Angela gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’re still human. All of us are.”
Stander grunted. “Human or not, that doesn’t help us much. We don’t know where you were. From what you said, it’s clear you were in one of their labs. Did you spot any signs on the way out or hear any names of cities?”
“No. I just remembered waking up, then I was here.”
A scratching sound interrupted her. Sandstorm slithered over and formed the words I found something. You should see this. Follow me.
The girl stared at him for a moment, slack-jawed, and once Sandstorm moved off toward the hangar, she shut her mouth and her face hardened.
“Let’s go,” Stander said then started off.
Once everyone was inside, he went over to where a lone computer had been placed on a table. The screen was on and a video was playing. Stander increased the volume.
Peterson, in all his ugliness, stood in front of a camera, flanked by Sluggo and Hija. Both of them wore arrogant smiles. The girl pointed at the screen. “Those are the things I saw!”
“Fine,” Stander said and waved his hand for silence. “Listen.”
“By now you’ve discovered what we can do,” Peterson was saying. “You know we are a force to be reckoned with. We are giving you the girl as a sign that our process of creating hybrids has been perfected. I am also going to tell you where our next target is.”
“What is he, crazy?” asked Stander, waving his arms around with exasperation. “He must be insane, giving away his—”
Paul put up his hand for silence. “Wait. He’s not finished yet.”
Peterson continued, “I am also in possession of a bacterial agent that will effectively annihilate the entire Eastern seaboard, should I choose to detonate it. I call it the ‘Atomizer’.”
A chuckle emerged from his misshapen mouth. It sounded like a file being rubbed over sandpaper. “I’ll admit it’s not a very fancy name, but then again, it doesn’t have to be. What it will do is disperse an agent—something similar to anthrax but far more potent—over a five-hundred square mile r
adius of my own choice. I can assure you, I will detonate it over a densely populated area. I will be at this location. Try to stop me.”
One second later, a location flashed on the screen. Stander felt around in his pocket and brought out a pen and a piece of paper. He hastily scribbled down the information. A second after he finished writing, the screen went dark. Ooze closed the computer top. “It sounds like he means it.”
“I mean it as well,” Stander replied in a grim voice. “But if we can’t take him down this time—”
“You’re not ready to take him down,” Angela interrupted. “You’re not even close. That monster and his gang destroyed an entire base.” She swept her arm around to indicate the devastation outside. “He butchered well-trained, armed men and women. You can’t fight him on your terms. You have to fight him on his.”
Stander glared at her. “And how to you propose we do that without—”
“You don’t,” Paul cut in. “We will—me, Angela and Sandstorm.”
A large hand waved itself in front of his face. “What about me?” Ooze piped up. “I’m going, too.”
Angela shook her head. “No, you’re not. It’s probably a trap, but if Peterson gets his hands on you, he’ll find a way to download Bolson’s knowledge and use it. You’re staying here. Peterson won’t come back. He wants us to fight him on his own ground.”
“I agree,” said Stander as a look of admiration crept into his eyes. “I like your battle sense. Ooze stays with us for now. We’ll take him to a location where that madman won’t think of looking then hide him. We’ll stay in touch the old-fashioned way, via cell phone. He can’t trace those signals.”
He yelled for Hawkins and the man ran over. “Did you find any survivors?” Stander asked.
Hawkins’ face was distraught. “They’re all dead, sir, including the commanding officer.”
“Well, that leaves me in charge, then,” muttered Stander, “At least, for the time being.”
Blowing out a deep breath, he ordered Hawkins to find as many cell phones as he could. “On it, sir,” Hawkins replied and took off.
Integration Page 10