The Veil

by Torstein Beck

  Gertlinger had been to twelve military bases across the Northern US states in as many days, and once again, he was standing in front of a large group of soldiers and officers, in front of a large screen, trying to explain the gravity of the situation.

  The death toll had risen to one hundred and sixty-three confirmed dead, eighteen still missing and the range was now from Minnesota to British Columbia. Since day eight, not a single one of the Varas had been killed.

  The Canadian Special Forces had managed to pick off a pair that were feeding on the carcass of a cow in rural Alberta with high powered rifles, but since then, there had been nothing.

  There were titters in the crowd as Gertlinger gestured to the screen, on which a large anatomical diagram of a Vara was displayed.

  ‘They can grow up to four and a half meters in length from snout to tail and are capable of standing on their back legs. Fully erect, they are over three meters tall, and—’

  A ripple of childish laughter echoed through the group at the usage of the word “erect”. A mean looking Lieutenant with a bald head started to yell. ‘You think this is funny? Seventy-five soldiers, our brothers, have already died at the hands of these bastards. So I ask again, do you think this is funny?’

  ‘No, sir!’ they replied in unison.

  ‘I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the laughter. Is this funny to you?’

  ‘No, sir!’ came the unified roar.

  ‘Good. Now shut up and listen to Doctor Gerbinger. It might just save your life!’

  ‘It’s Gert-linger, actually — you know, never mind.’ Gertlinger forced a smile and then carried on. ‘Varanus Lupus is an extremely dangerous predator. They can run at upwards of forty-five kilometres an hour and can leap almost twice their body length. They can scale cliffs, steep banks, walls, trees, or anything else with relative ease. Their claws are hooked and sharp, up to twelve centimetres long and their jaws are capable of breaking a human femur like a twig. Their hide is leathery and thick and will stop a small calibre bullet unless it hits something soft. The throat and underbelly should be the primary targets. These creatures are ruthless and should be engaged from a distance. If they come within striking proximity, then it’s already too late, there’s no escape. Retreat should be a priority if you are losing ground. They are cold blooded—’

  ‘So are we!’ Came an anonymous voice from the crowd. It was joined by ‘Hooahs!’ and whoops soon after.

  Gertlinger pressed his lips into a line. They’d never understand the true danger these things faced. Not until they were looking them right in the eyes.

  ‘Excuse me, Doctor,’ another officer interjected. ‘What about weaknesses? Is there anything to exploit? What are we looking at here?’

  ‘The unfortunate part of the situation, is that they have none. We specifically bred them without weakness. Their biological imperative is to survive.’ Gertlinger finished and rubbed his head. ‘And they are very good at it.’

  ‘Forgive me, Doctor,’ the officer continued, a little angry. ‘But that seems like a really fucking stupid thing to do — you know, to create an unstoppable killing machine like this. Didn’t you think about this possibility when you created these things?’

  ‘No, I didn’t,’ Gertlinger retorted.

  ‘Well, don’t you think you should have?’ the officer said, rising now. Everyone else was silent.

  ‘No — this was never a possibility because they were never designed to come back to Earth. They were never supposed to survive. They were kept heavily sedated before the launch, matured in test tubes of artificial embryonic fluid. Like big glass eggs. They were put straight into cryo from there and shipped off to the next goddamn solar system. Their potential threat to us didn’t occur to me because it never existed. They weren’t supposed to come back here and if I’d have known that they might, then I would have considered the implications, I assure you. But, that development was only introduced after they set off. So while I did design them, this is not my fault. But please, if you want to undermine me, take over. God knows I’m not going to be the one out there in the dark, hunting the most dangerous animal in history with nothing but a rifle filled with bullets that might not even break skin in my hands to protect me.’ He stopped and took a hard breath. ‘So please, come on up and give us the benefit of your wisdom.’ Gertlinger waited, his frail shoulders rising and falling gently as he seethed. This was the third outburst like this that he’d quelled in as many bases and each time, his patience was wearing thinner, his argument getting sharper.

  Needless to say, the officer backed down and nodded a quiet apology.

  Another officer soon spoke up instead. ‘What about tracking them? luring them into a trap?’

  ‘They can’t be tracked from the air. By now, they know they’re being hunted. They’ll be sticking to the shadows, moving at night. We implanted them with a flight receptor as a fallback to the pack mentality,’ Gertlinger replied, thankful that the comment wasn’t just more ridicule.

  ‘In layman’s?’

  ‘The Varas will move in packs. They’re groups, usually consisting of one mature male and a group of females if it’s small. Or, if it’s larger a few males, depending on an establishment of hierarchy — an alpha male and then the betas. It’s hard to say. We haven’t observed them in the wild. But, we know they will move cautiously, sending scouts out to scour the area for food and potential predators. Those two that were killed in Alberta? They were scouts. Two isn’t a pack. When the scouts don’t return, the pack goes into flight mode. Predators nearby — run and hide. It was in case they ran into any indigenous life on Orsus when they landed.’

  ‘Aliens?’ asked one of the faces in the crowd, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his hair.

  ‘Effectively. But they wouldn’t have been the aliens — we were, or at least the Varas were. They are the ones who came down in a ship from the sky. But anyway, we didn’t know what they’d encounter there, and we didn’t want them to get caught up in some sort of battle for territory or food and die the second they got there. It was just in case — but we programmed them with the ability to ascertain the situation, flee if necessary, and regroup. They didn’t run into any life at all so far as we know, so that imperative didn’t matter there. But down here, being hunted by us, they’ll hide, they’ll run, and they’ll survive. They can live in any terrain, in any temperature, on very little food and water. The pack that belonged to those two scouts — we’ll never see them again. We certainly won’t find them to kill them. All we can do is wait for them to kill again and then pick up the trail from there, or hope that they die of old age in the meanwhile…’ Gertlinger chuckled a little to try and lighten the mood. It got no response. Perhaps this wasn’t a good time for jokes. He cleared his throat and looked around for any further queries from the crowd.

  ‘How do we track them? Thermal imaging doesn’t work, right?’ someone keen asked, pen and paper poised at the ready.

  ‘Right. The only way to do it is on foot. The old fashioned way. Follow the tracks. Horseback would be easiest. You’d be able to keep up with them then. On foot, they’d outrun you without breaking a sweat.’

  ‘Horseback? On Foot!?’ The officer laughed. ‘You’re kidding, right? We can’t go after these things on foot, it’s suicide! We need tanks. Gunships!’

  ‘And they will run if they see them. And we’re back to square one with a cold trail. They’ll head into rougher terrain where they can’t be followed. And there’s no way you can follow a trail from inside a tank. On foot, they won’t run. They won’t see you as a predator.’

  ‘They’ll see us as prey!’

  ‘Exactly. You’ll be able to draw them out. Kill them,’ Gertlinger said flatly.

  ‘We’d lose more men than it’s worth. I’m not sacrificing soldiers needlessly,’ the officer said dismissively.

  ‘Then I don’t know what else to suggest,’ Gertlinger said, raising his hands. ‘I’ve had this conversation a dozen times at a dozen differ
ent bases. Everyone says the same. But if this threat is not contained quickly, then the task will become impossible.’

  ‘Why? What’s going to happen?’ the officer asked, a little more concerned now.

  ‘They are pushing north. They’ll reach Alaska within the next month. A month after that they’ll cross the Bering Strait into Siberia. Once that happens, it’s down to the Russians. That’s their country, their jurisdiction. For now, they don’t even know the problem exists. If the first they know of it is the death of one of their citizens, and they find out we unleashed a host of unstoppable killing machines into their country — well, it won’t do anything for political relations. If they are allowed to reach Siberia, we’ll never stop them. There’s thousands of kilometres of forest for them to move through, totally unhindered, free to hunt and kill as they please. They will spread like a virus until there’s nothing left. Priority one should be containment — at all costs.’

  After a further hour and a half of explaining, Gertlinger clicked off the last slide and the talk ended. It hadn’t reassured anyone. In fact, it seemed to have scared them. The officers and soldiers alike had asked questions to which Gertlinger could only give vague or disappointing answers.

  He was packing up his laptop when an officer approached, the same one that had attempted to give him a dressing down earlier. ‘Doctor?’ he said as he approached, his voice low.

  Gertlinger looked up and sighed, readying himself for another stern argument. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘I just wanted to apologise for my outburst earlier,’ he said sincerely. He was a fairly large man with a flat nose and a sandy coloured hair.

  Gertlinger was caught off guard. ‘It’s alright,’ he said.

  ‘No, it’s not. I’m not usually an outspoken person, but this situation, it’s unprecedented.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I don’t feel very reassured by what was said today.’

  ‘I’m not surprised.’ Gertlinger sighed again, zipping up his bag. ‘The situation is dire.’

  ‘Yeah, seems that way. In all honesty, I’m scared — scared for my family.’

  ‘Where are you from…’ He trailed off, fishing for a name.

  ‘Master Sergeant Guzman. I’m from Arizona, but I was stationed here in Francis Warren two years ago,’ he replied, unsure of where this was going.

  ‘You still have family in Arizona, Sergeant?’ Gertlinger continued, still packing up.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Do you have family here?’

  ‘Wife and two children. Girls. Six and eight,’ the Sergeant said, half confused.

  ‘What family do you have in Arizona?’

  ‘Uh, my brother and his family, and my Parents. Why?’

  ‘Go to them,’ Gertlinger said in a hushed tone. What he was saying was inciting insubordination.

  ‘Sir?’ Guzman asked, instantly conflicted.

  ‘Go to them. Get your wife and your kids and go.’

  ‘I don’t understand…’ Guzman stammered.

  ‘You’ve got to understand. I’ve got talks like this all week, and probably all year. I’m speaking at bases across the country, radiating outwards from Montana. The ones closest are the highest priority but give it a few weeks and I’ll be in Colorado, Nebraska, Idaho, Missouri. Staying ahead of the spread.’ Gertlinger finished packing up. ‘They aren’t planning on it being stopped because it’s not going to be stopped. This is just press. Propaganda.’ He was sick of lying.

  ‘But the whole army is looking for them. The Navy, Air Force, National Guard, local Police forces. We’re going to find them and we’re going to stop them,’ Guzman said with a patriotic chest puff.

  Gertlinger smiled. That’s what they wanted them to believe. ‘That’s a notion that will get us all killed. There are things that I’m not allowed to tell you. Things that I’m not allowed to tell anyone. Things that would change that attitude instantly.’

  ‘Things like what?’ Guzman said, probing the old man.

  ‘It’s classified. If I told you it would start an irrevocable panic.’ He wanted to. He wanted to shout it from the highest building he could find.

  ‘You’re starting one anyway,’ Guzman scoffed, rising a little.

  ‘Just trust me. Get out while you can. Once they reach here, it will already be too late. They won’t attack a fortified army base. They’ll go for the easy targets. Houses where the strong military fathers with guns are away at work and the wives and kids are left unprotected. Understand?’

  Guzman nodded gravely, envisioning it.

  ‘You should go. While you still can. Head to Arizona. Get the rest of your family, and then go south. As far south as you can. Once they reach the southern states, they’ll shut down the borders to stem the flow of people. This won’t be quiet forever. The government are pouring all their resources into keeping this out of the news, but it won’t last. The country will crumble in days once this hits the headlines. The army will be spread so thinly, trying to enforce a state of emergency, that the Varas will just slip through the net. There’s no stopping them. They’re a force that will only grow.’

  ‘Grow? What do you mean grow?’ Guzman asked worriedly.

  Gertlinger pressed his lips into a line. ‘I’ve said too much already. I’m sorry, I have to go, I’ve got a plane to catch.’

  ‘Doctor, wait. I can’t just leave. I’ve got a duty. If I run they’ll hunt me down and throw me in jail for going AWOL.’

  Gertlinger laughed abjectly at the idea. ‘If they waste even a single man chasing you instead of them, it’ll be a mistake on their part — a big one. But if you can’t leave, for moral reasons or otherwise, at least get your family to safety. Even if you stay, send them South before it’s too late.’

  ‘I can protect them,’ Guzman said sternly.

  ‘No, you can’t.’

  ‘There must be a way,’ he assured himself.

  ‘There is. Run. It’s all any of us can do. In a month it will be Colorado, then Arizona, Mexico, Panama, Brazil, Argentina. At the same time, Russia, China, Europe. The only safe places? Islands. Britain, Iceland, Madagascar, Australia, New Zealand, Japan. They’ll be the only refuges. But they’ll shut the borders once the migrants start flooding in. Mark my words. Things will get bad, fast. Good luck, Sergeant. I wish you all the best, I really do.’

  And with that, Gertlinger gave him one smile, turned on his heel and left.

  Guzman stood still, thinking about Gertlinger’s parting words, and when Gertlinger stole a glance back from the door, Guzman was gone. He just hoped that he’d gone to his family and not to try to fight the invasion. If he had, then he, and his family were as good as dead already.

  THIRTY-THREE

  THE VEIL

  2122 AD

  It was practically a conference call.

  Sorina and Aaro stood in front of the screen with Ek and Bjork while the other truck’s team did the same on their end. Ek blandly relayed the information they’d had from the base in Stockholm about the radiation surrounding the town.

  The trucks set off around eight in the morning and trundled down towards the harbour in Murmansk. In the early twenty-first century, the rotting carcasses of no more than a dozen or so subs lay there, but now, the harbour was full to the brim, courtesy of the war and the following denuclearisation treaty.

  The trucks had been parked side-by-side with the tailgates facing the water. The feeds showed no movement or life of any kind. The mics came back with an eerie silence. Not even birds lived here.

  ‘The current readings of the residual radiation are as we suspected,’ Ek said. ‘Sealed overalls are required for the dust and respirators are vital. Take them off and you’re dead. Even so, long term exposure with them on will kill you. So don’t waste any time.’ He let that sit for a second and then said it again to make sure we knew what we were in for. ‘Do not take your masks off for any reason. If you breathe in the dust out there, you’ll be going home with rotting lungs. Fortunately, the subs are differe
nt. They’re lead lined and sealed. Most of them never saw action, so they should be intact. Inside, you can take your masks off in sealed sections and get to work. Radio us when you’ve got the core and we’ll back the trucks down to the water and start working on the crane.

  ‘It’s going to be dark for another two hours, so by the time you locate an appropriate core and get to work, it should be light. We’ve got six hours of daylight from that point — we want to be back on the road before dark. That means that we’re leaving at least an hour to load and secure the core.’ He looked at his watch. ‘We’ve got seven hours. Let’s get moving.’

  He clapped his hands together and Sorina jolted. She was rattled by the conversation Aaro and her had shared, and stayed quiet throughout because of it. She was on edge. No one noticed though. It was easy to assume that it was because of the ride here, and not from anything else. Especially not from Aaro telling her he was intent on murdering half the crew. Or at least Aaro hoped that’s what Bjork and Ek would think.

  If they knew something was off, it would throw a real spanner into the works. He kept stealing glances at them. They seemed fairly relaxed, as though they were in full control.

  He smiled. They weren’t.

  A few minutes later Aaro wriggled into an overall and strapped the gloves on tight. He fastened the neck seal and shouldered a toolbag from the back of the truck before going for the gun case under his cot.

  ‘Woah, what’re you doing?’ Asked Ek suddenly, jumping up from his cot.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Aaro asked, cocking his head, one hand on the case.

  ‘You won’t need that out there,’ Ek said with a fake smile, coming forward to try and take the case out of Aaro’s hands.

  ‘It’ll make me feel better,’ Aaro said, pulling it out of reach.

  Ek’s hand hung in the air, their eyes locked. ‘The feeds show nothing. You won’t need it. It’ll just get in the way.’ He grabbed at it again.

  ‘It’s just in case. If any of them show up, I don’t want to be unarmed,’ Aaro said calmly, gripping a little harder.