“Yes. We believe that Castillo's tattoos are what caused his rapid and destructive transformation when exposed to the virus. As for Velasquez, it seems his aggression was increased as well. And yes, you are not at four hundred percent. I believe, based on our observations, you are well above a thousand percent of baseline. And no, that was a separate list.”
“Great.” I muttered.
“Indeed it is, lad. You are the only person I have ever seen respond to the... energy, as Jim called it, in such a fashion. More than ninety nine percent of the population have severe negative reactions. It's less than a hundredth of a percent of people that have a positive effect. You appear to be unique in how positive however.” Allan spoke with passion, clearly fascinated by the research.
“So I am infected.”
“Again, yes and no. You were infected. Mr Bazua was assigned to watch over you, and we waited to see how you would be affected.”
“Explains why he's always right under the fan with me.”
“I'm sorry lad, 'the fan',” Allan asked with confusion.
“The fan the shit is hitting,” replied Bazua. He smirked.
“Ah, yes.”
“Mr DeWisr, do you remember what I said to you when your group arrived? I said 'Welcome to Project Osiris'.” Interjected Turner.
I nodded, then sipped more of the scotch.
“Osiris was the Egyptian god of death and rebirth. As you know, the military detected an object hurtling at our sun two years ago. It was death if it impacted the sun, due to its sheer size. The combined mass would likely have caused a premature supernova, annihilating the entire solar system. A project was proposed, approved, funded, and set underway in record time. The goal, to fling humanity to the stars. Our rebirth, as it were. Of course, the object never impacted the sun, but blocked it, and arrived far faster than we had projected.”
“It isn't just blocking the sun. It's consuming it. It's a Dyson Sphere.” I replied off hand.
“A what?” asked Turner.
“An object that partially or completely surrounds a star. It's like a solar panel, except it covers the entire sun when complete. They are draining the sun of all of its power. Sshaa told me.”
“Ah, yes, the alien,” said Allan.
“The warrior class? It had a name?” Asked Turner.
“Yeah, she had a name.”
“Fascinating. And you said it was a she? How do you know this?” questioned Allan.
“We spoke. I heard English, but Bazua said otherwise.”
“Hissing. Just... really fuckin' loud hissing. Like he was trying to act like a cat.” He then quietly sat back and continued to sip his scotch. When he placed his glass down, Turner poured two more fingers.
“Anyway, she told me a few things. Not enough though. Kept saying Chosen, which is a very strange coincidence, when you consider my last name. Then she started talking about fighting me. I have a strong suspicion she wasn't talking to me.”
“By that you mean...” inquired Allan, letting the question trail off.
“I think she was talking to the mothership. Her eyes were glazed, and she died as soon as she finished talking.”
“Yes, I see what you mean. There is a lot that is unanswered,” commented Turner.
“Oh, one other thing. She called herself 'hatch leader', said she was going to become a 'Matriarch'. I have a feeling that the giant one we faced in the tower was a Matriarch. The small ones, the ones that are roughly the size of a regular person, they're all male. I got the feeling a lot of the males in that fight were her children. She said she laid hundreds of eggs.”
“Males, Hatch Leaders, and Matriarchs. Fascinating. This has many implications. Perhaps only Matriarchs can lay eggs for Hatch Leaders. That is too far into supposition without supporting evidence. Anyway, I think now is a good time for Jim to continue his explanation.” Allan nodded at Turner, signaling for him to start talking.
“Thanks, Allan. Alright⸺” he paused to gather his thoughts. Bazua and Turner both looked significantly more relaxed, likely due to the scotch. “Project Osiris, right. There's five ships that were created as part of the project. Philadelphia, Dallas, Salt Lake City, Los Angeles⸺”
“Fuck!” Bazua and I said together, interrupting Turner. He glowered at us, then continued.
“And Juneau. Hawaii did not get a ship, due to prohibitive costs. Yes, that was a concern even facing the end of the world. Care to explain why you interrupted me?”
I looked at Bazua and he nodded.
“Because that means the nearest ship is almost two thousand miles away. If it wasn't for the Cascades, the Salt Lake City base would be easier to get to. In these conditions, it'll be a miracle if we get there at all. If we take all six hundred some personnel, we're bound to lose dozens, if not hundreds of people.”
“That's the least of our concerns at present. We can no longer stay in this base. Just in the time we've been discussing this, our defensive platforms have shot down five more alien craft. However, we've lost three of our six platforms in attacks. We will shortly be under siege. Before that happens, we need to be out of the base and on the road to L.A.”
“How the fuck are we going to evacuate more than six hundred personnel, with enough food, water, and fuel to get us all the way there?”
Turner shot me a stern look, but I stared back at him placidly. He could judge me for my language all he wanted, but he needed me far more than I needed him.
“It's worse yet.” He sighed. “We lost contact when darkness fell. Your office was our main communication hub. All of our backup systems have failed as well. We haven't heard from Base 16 in over a month.”
“Well, we've got our work cut out for us. What do we need to do, and when do we leave?”
Chapter 24
Darkness +36, 2033
Greater Seattle Area, Washington, USA
Location Undisclosed, Base 13, Project Osiris
-65°F
0059 Hours
“Babe, where are you?” I whispered in the dark. The power had come back on shortly after the attack, but our room was still dark. The alarm flashed red zeroes. I scanned the room, but only saw the rumpled sheets on top. The pillows and blankets were missing. Then I heard a huff, and looked under the bed.
Linda and Eddie were curled up together, pressed side to side under the blankets. They were lucky they were so small, they had just enough room to shimmy around. I doubted even Eddie would be able to sleep on his side under there.
“Hey, get up you two. We've got work to do.”
“Five more minutes,” mumbled Eddie.
“Yeah, ten minutes sounds good,” grumbled Linda.
“No can do. You need to get up because we've got to get dressed and pack.”
Both of them moaned in protest, but started to crawl out. Eddie was awake much faster. He ran to his room as soon as he was able to move freely. Linda sat on the edge of the bed, hair looking like a Greek monster. She rubbed sleep from her eyes.
“What's going on, Dante? What happened earlier? Is this about all that rumbling?”
“Yeah. We were attacked by the Naga. We repelled the first attack, but we're going to be under siege if we don't leave very soon. They're already trying to close in.”
“Fuck!” She swore fairly loudly. I was a little taken aback. She rarely cursed, and never with such vehemence.
“We were just settling in. Life here was so... nice. Especially considering what's going outside.”
“I know babe. There's one more thing⸺” she focused on me like a laser. I gulped and continued. “The General wants to see us. He said he's got something important he wants to discuss with us.”
The PA system crackled to life in the hallway and in the entry to our suite. I wondered why the speaker inside our suite hadn't been used earlier. I figured it had been to prevent waking people unnecessarily. The General's voice boomed out.
“Attention all residents. There is a mandatory meeting in the Chow Hall in one hour.
That is at o-two-hundred. Mandatory all hands meeting at o-two-hundred in the chow hall. That is all.”
“Speak of the devil.” I muttered.
“What's that all about?” Asked Linda. Panic edged her voice.
“There's going to be a few announcements. One of them is what I just told you. Another is the fact that we're leaving in five hours. We're evacuating the base.”
Linda nodded, determination causing a firmness to brush aside her panic. She sat straighter, like steel had infused her spine. “Let's get packing then.”
I took a fast shower to get the feeling of being clean. Then I changed and started working with Linda. We had virtually no luggage, and weren't sure what to bring.
“Let's just get everything out and ready to pack. I'm sure they'll cover what we can bring during the meeting.”
Two came around far too fast. We met up with Eddie and made our way over to the Chow Hall. The crowds were daunting. I hadn't seen more than a hundred or so people at a time since we had arrived. Most of the tables were already full, with people starting to line the walls, or kneeling in the aisles.
“The fire marshal would have a field day with this.”
Linda snickered at my comment, giving my arm a playful smack. Bazua was standing with the General in the center of the mess hall, talking quietly. They both saw me and Bazua waved us over. As we approached, I saw three open seats at the nearest table. He told us to sit there while we waited for the announcements. Turner had a sour expression on his face, but I was beginning to learn that was just how he looked.
Bazua pulled me aside, and whispered just audibly over the dull roar of the crowd.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Yeah man. It has to be done.”
“Fuck, alright then. Good luck.” He handed over a small package, and I slipped it into the pocket of my coveralls.
Turner waved his hands briefly, and the room settled into an expectant silence.
“Before we address the situation above, it has been brought to my attention that a crime was committed.”
Linda gasped, though it was barely audible. She clutched my hand, and I gave her a gentle squeeze back.
“One of our new personnel falsified records, thus committing fraud to the US Military.” He paused, then turned to me.
“Mr. DeWisr, please stand and approach.”
I nodded, standing to my full height. I towered over everybody, visible to everybody present. I scanned the hall, and saw Larry casually leaning against a far wall. He nodded, and started walking toward the center where Bazua and Turner stood. I stopped just in front of Turner. My back blocked Linda's view.
“Are you sure you want to do it like this?” he asked quietly.
“Yes, sir,” I replied equally quietly.
“Very well.” He pointed at the ground. “Mr. DeWisr, please sit so everybody can see this.” I nodded and slowly sat.
“Please hold out your hands. You are under arrest for fraud.”
I heard Linda gasp again, this time much louder. I shot her a look and she stayed put.
“Sergeant Bazua, please cuff this man.”
Bazua nodded crisply and produced a pair of handcuffs. He then began to attempt to cuff me. I held my hands out. He struggled to make half of the cuff fit over my wrist. He started to grumble and cuss under his breath.
“Is there a problem, Sergeant?”
“Yes, sir. DeWisr is too big. The cuffs won't fit him.”
“Then what can we do? He's broken the law.” Both were speaking loudly enough that anybody could hear the words.
Just then, Larry spoke up from the side.
“Fix it.”
“That is an excellent idea. Mrs. DeWisr, will you please approach.”
I saw her stand, red in the face. She had already started crying. I held my hand out to her, still sitting on the ground. I nearly sat even with her head. She took my hand, and I got to one knee. She looked startled for one moment, then started to shake her head.
“Linda Williams DeWisr, will you marry me?”
“Oh, I am so going to⸺” she started. The red flush had started to turn to anger, then she stopped herself. “Yes, you giant oaf. Of course I'll marry you.”
A few people started to cheer and cry nearby, but Bazua and Larry quieted them. General Turner stepped to our side. I held her hand as we turned to face him. I stayed kneeling, thus allowing everybody to see all three of us. Larry walked to my side, and Jessie stood and walked to Linda's side. She handed over a bunch of flowers, the colors unbelievably vibrant.
“As the highest ranking official of the US Government, and due to the fact that we have no Chaplain, I will be officiating this wedding. Linda Williams DeWisr, do you take Dante DeWisr to be your husband, in sickness and in health?”
She broke down sobbing then, one hand over her face. She started nodding vigorously.
“I'm sorry ma'am, I need you to say it.” Turner said gently. She looked up at him, and he smiled down, like a ray of sunshine across a craggy mountain. She sniffled for a moment.
“I do!”
She smiled as wide as I had ever seen her smile. Turner then addressed me.
“Dante DeWisr, do you take this woman, Linda Williams DeWisr, to be your wife, in sickness and in health?”
“I do,” I said solemnly.
“I now pronounce you man and wife.” The final words were barely audible as the entire hall erupted in cheers and applause. I slid the tiny ring over Linda's finger, and she looked at it for a long moment, before leaning in and giving me a kiss. Her tears fell on my cheeks.
When she stood, Jessie tapped her shoulder. She held out a box that Linda took. Inside was a silver ring. Linda took the ring out and slid it over my ring finger. It fit snugly.
“How did you manage all of this,” she said. I had to read her lips because of the level of noise.
“I came clean with the General. Told him I had to make it right. Get this, Larry was a machinist too. He made the ring. Bazua had to track him down.”
“Is there anything he can't do?” She laughed.
I stood and picked Linda up. She shrieked in delight, then I lowered her for a kiss. Cheers began anew. Suddenly people were moving around us. Food came out of nowhere, and it smelled heavenly. Larry grinned at us as he rolled a cart up with a large cake. He handed Linda a knife, and she just started cackling.
I shot him a look, and he shrugged. The guy really was a miracle worker.
We cut the cake and started enjoying food. People constantly came by to congratulate one or both of us. After I had finished my first plate of food, Turner stood again, once more waving for attention. Silence descended, apprehension thick in the air.
“Thank you folks. Now, as much as it was a pleasure to marry these two, that's not the only news. Unfortunately, the events of a few hours ago have set new plans in motion. This is our final day- in fact our final meal in this base. We simply cannot fit all of the food into the vehicles. We have to leave the base before we come under siege. So, today at 0600 hours, we will be loading up and leaving the bunker behind. Our destination is Los Angeles.”
Groans echoed through the room, along with boos. Then Bazua stood, and clinked his glass. The clinking continued until it was a wall of sound, then abruptly cut.
“A toast!” Bazua shouted. A roar was his answer. “To Dante and Linda, and to rays of light, happiness when all appears dark!”
I felt a grin threaten to split my face. I could hardly contain my joy. Linda was smiling as well.
“To Dante! To Linda!” The base roared back.
Epilogue
Darkness +36, 2033
Greater Seattle Area, Washington, USA
Location Undisclosed, Base 13, Project Osiris
-65°F
0445 Hours
“How the fuck are we supposed to be ready to leave in another hour?” said a willowy woman with a slightly southern accent. Her mannerisms would lead one to believe her to be from Arizona.
“More like how the fuck are we supposed to get anywhere? There's no way we have snow plows that can handle all the crap that's going to be on the roads,” replied a tall, thin man with a distinctly Georgian accent.
“Shut the fuck up, Christian. Besides, it's not like you to be so forward thinking. You're more of a 'pantser' anyway.” Said Arizona.
“Uh, 'pantser'?” Asked a different woman, this one built like a mechanic with a midwestern accent. Could have been from Oklahoma.
“It means seat of your pants. Someone who reacts instead of planning,” said Christian. “And I am deeply hurt you would say such a thing, Taylor. I thought you Phoenix people could handle the heat.”
“Fucking lame,” smirked Taylor. Oklahoma stifled a laugh. There was a fourth man, silent and sullen.
“Aww, cheer up Miles,” said Oklahoma when she saw his downturned expression.
“Cheer up? Someone killed Betty!” whined Miles.
“Betty? Do you mean Amber?” asked Taylor.
“Wha⸺ no! Why would I give a fuck about her? I barely knew her. I'm talking about my hummvee! Look at her, she's fucking wrecked!”
Christian's hand made an audible smack as he palmed his face. Taylor groaned.
“Really? It's a truck dude.” Said Christian in a dead pan voice.
“Yeah, my truck. After all this darkness bullshit, that was all I had! So I made her awesome. Hell, she was probably the best in the fleet.” Miles continued to rant for a minute, then sat and slumped.
“We get it dude. It sucks. But we're going to have to pull parts from your truck to make sure the rest of the vehicles are good to go,” said Taylor quietly.
Miles just growled, then turned and grabbed a wrench. He was a slight man, only five-nine and a hundred thirty pounds. However, what he lacked in muscle he made up in ferocity. He spent the next fifteen minutes dismantling his vehicle, showing just how well he knew the hummvee.
The other three watched, impressed at how often parts flew out of the crumpled chassis.
“Fuck this job sucks,” said Oklahoma.
Darkness Trilogy (Book 2): Death In Darkness Page 16