Alphas - Origins Page 8

  More than one tunnel meant other lizards. “Did you track them down?”

  Lucas nodded.

  “Did they transmit what they saw?”

  Another nod.

  “So the enemy knows where we are?”

  Lucas grimaced. “Difficult to say. The Rippers are saying there was too much inter-dimensional interference for the transmission to have gone through fully. But it’s possible.” He clenched his teeth, pondering something, and said, “We had perimeter alarms, infrared, microwave, and frequency sensors. The sensors are very specific: if you look on Cedric’s collar, you’ll see a transmitter. The transmitter broadcasts a code. The sensors check this code against the database and if the code is active, the sensors don’t register an alarm. For some reason someone loaded an old set of codes into the system. The lizards came through fitted with transmitters of their own and when they broadcast the outdated set of codes, the system didn’t flag them.”

  “How did they know which codes to load?”

  Lucas’s eyes turned darker. “There was a woman. Galatea. She was a donor like you.”

  He said her name like she was a plague. “Was she your donor?”

  “Yes. She defected.”

  He’d clenched his teeth again. There was more to this story. “Were you lovers?”

  Lucas stopped and for a moment she thought she might have pushed him too far. “We fucked,” he said.

  Aha. She kept pushing. “For how long?”

  There was a short pause before he answered. “For four years.”

  “That’s some long fucking,” Karina said. He’d loved Galatea. He was in love, and she betrayed him, and now he wanted to kill her. Any woman past the age of fifteen would’ve connected these dots. He must’ve been young—it had obviously left a deep scar. “What was she like?”

  Lucas took a step toward her. A wild thing looked back at her from his eyes, the thing full of lust and aggression. She realized that in his mind he was peeling off her clothes and thinking of what it would be like, and suddenly she was back in the tub, naked, sitting two feet away from him and afraid he would cross the distance.

  He stared at her. “Would you like me to tell you about it?”

  She squared her shoulders. “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then.”

  He turned and they sped up to narrow the gap between themselves and Emily. Karina kept the pace, exhaling quietly. He had no brakes, at least not the ones she was used to as a woman. Ordinary men didn’t end dinners by breaking the table with their brother’s spine, they didn’t kill lizards by caving their heads in, they didn’t turn into monsters, and they didn’t feed on women. Ordinary men didn’t behave like this outside of movie screens and when they did it on the screen, other men ridiculed them for it. This was a game she couldn’t afford to play, because he held the best cards. She had to survive this.

  Karina chanced a glance at him. The wild, hungry thing in his eyes was still there. “Since someone had to have uploaded this old code, someone on the inside is helping Galatea,” she said, trying to steer him away from whatever he was thinking.

  “Looks that way. And when I find them, they’ll wish they were never born.” His voice contained so much malice, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up.

  If this enemy was coming, Emily would be in danger. “Should we evacuate?”

  “That’s up to Arthur.”

  “Do you think we should?”

  Lucas glanced at her. “It depends on how many people they bring to the fight. This is an old base, and we are actively mining this fragment for aluminum and beryllium. If the Ordinators are coming, they’re coming fast. So even if we begin full base evacuation now, we’ll take a hit in equipment. The base is run by means of a fiber network. It’s a sophisticated computer system that coordinates mining operations, bio-support, communications, and so on. It also has the locations of the nearest bases. If the Ordinators gain access to it, a lot of us will die, which is why the network must be destroyed before the evacuation is complete. Detonating it will make this base uninhabitable. Fragments like this, with a stable climate and ecosystem, are rare. Most fragments we find are dead: no plants, no animals, often no atmosphere. You have to wear a suit and live in a hermetically sealed bunker. And popping back and forth through dimensions leaves a trail. If the Ordinators don’t know where we are, they will once we start ripping.”

  The path ended, joining a larger road that rolled down the hill toward the prairie. In the distance a group of small horses galloped across the grass, ducking in and out of the brush. The vast prairie rolled to the towering mountain ridge, savage and ancient and somehow so much bigger than the modern landscape, that for a moment Karina stopped and simply stared, caught by the natural majesty of it.

  “This is paradise compared to some of the fragments I’ve seen,” Lucas said. “If we have a chance, we’ll fight for it. Come on.”

  He turned and strode up the hill. She sped up to keep pace, Emily and Cedric in tow.

  They rounded a bend and suddenly before them stood two tall white columns marking an entrance. Thrusting twenty feet up, they curved like the ribs of some prehistoric giant. An intricate network of designs covered the columns, etched into their surface. It drew the eye, hypnotic in its complexity. Once you looked, your gaze just kept sliding and sliding, up along the grooves and curved lines . . .

  A hand rested on her shoulder. Karina turned, saw Lucas’s fingers on her shoulder, and jerked away. He held his hand in empty air for a second and lowered it.

  Karina turned to Emily. Her daughter stood next to her, staring at the column, her expression blank.

  “Come,” Lucas said.

  Karina bent down and took Emily’s hand. “Come on, baby.”

  Emily blinked, as if waking up from a deep sleep, and walked with her. They passed through the arches and Karina stopped again.

  Pale buildings with curved roofs spread before her. On second thought, the complex was all one huge building in the shape of a horseshoe, rising three stories high. A beautiful garden lay in the crook of the horseshoe, crisscrossed by covered passageways, stonelined paths, and lush flowerbeds, artfully bordering artificial ponds. Picturesque shrubs spread their branches. Flowers bloomed, blue, orange, yellow . . . The wind brought the by-now-familiar tart flower scent.

  A large white sign stood next to the wide path leading into the garden, its smooth surface marked with an odd script. It had to be writing of some sort—groups of symbols separated by spaces—but it wasn’t any language Karina was familiar with.

  “What does it say?”

  A string of odd words spilled from Lucas’s lips, lyrical and surprisingly familiar. She waited for the meaning.

  “It says ‘The Mandate is everything.’ ”

  “What is the Mandate?”

  “The Original Mandate. It’s hard to explain in English. There is a word in the primary language, ile. It means ‘we,’ ‘us,’ but it also means civilization, the best of us, the best of our kind. The mandate is ‘Ile must survive.’”

  That explained nothing. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it. On this world, under this set of circumstances, the people among whom you lived are ile. We exist to make sure they survive. When we’re no longer needed, we’ll die out like many other subspecies before us.”

  The more he explained things, the more confused she became. For now she had to just gather the crumbs of information and hope all would make sense sooner or later.

  Lucas walked on, down the wide path of smooth stones. Karina scrambled to follow. They walked side by side along the path and over a bridge. The gardens burrowed into nooks in the buildings here and there, forming small sitting areas. To the left two women sat on a bench, discussing something. They looked so normal. Both wore jeans; the older of the pair had on a flowered top, white on blue; the younger woman wore a familiar yellow blouse—Karina had looked at it in J. C. Penney last week.r />
  Last week. A lifetime ago.

  The women saw Lucas. Their faces took on a certain tightness, as if they were straining to keep calm. They looked her over next. Karina met their gaze and saw pity in their eyes. Suddenly it made her furious. If Lucas grabbed her throat right now, they wouldn’t lift a finger to help her. They would just sit there and watch him choke her to death and feel sorry for her. She raised her chin and stared at Lucas’s back. No, thank you. She didn’t need anyone’s pity.

  Henry’s words came back to her. Lucas is the most feared. “They’re afraid of you,” she said.

  “I’m the security specialist here; I have the right of judgment,” he said. “I can kill anyone on base at any point without any retribution.”

  “You protect them, and all you get in return is fear. Why do you keep doing this?”

  Lucas kept walking. “Because everyone must have a purpose. The Mandate tells me what I am doing is right and must be done and because I’m the biggest and the strongest it’s my duty to put myself between my people and danger. I would do it for you.”

  He would. She believed him. “Lucas . . .”

  “Yes?”

  She wanted to tell him that if he ever shielded her or Emily, she wouldn’t be afraid of him. She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to put up with people shrinking away from him, but inside a cold rational voice warned her that she was losing her grip on reality. The plan had to be to escape. The plan couldn’t be to fall for Lucas and be that one sole person who comforted him.

  He was looking at her.

  “I’m really confused right now,” she told him. “So this actually doesn’t mean anything.”

  He nodded. “Okay.”

  “Bend your arm at the elbow.”

  He did. Karina reached out. What am I doing? She put her hand on his forearm and raised her chin. The two women on the bench stared at them, openmouthed.

  “Now we walk,” she murmured, avoiding looking at him.

  “We can do that,” he agreed. They started down the walkway. His arm was rock-steady under her fingers. A few moments, and the dense greenery of rhododendron shrubs hid the women from their view.

  “Why?” he asked.

  Because she lost it, that’s why. “Would you hurt those two women?”

  “Not unless they tried to hurt someone else first.”

  “Then they’re in no danger and they know it, but they still make a big production out of you walking by, minding your own business.”

  “That still doesn’t answer my question,” he said.

  “Can we stop talking about this?”

  He didn’t say anything. They simply kept walking. It was surreal, Karina reflected. Beautiful flowers, Emily and a tame bear-dog, and she and Lucas striding side by side.

  “I’m tired,” Emily said.

  Karina bent down and picked her up. The effort nearly made her lose her balance. Apparently she was weaker than she thought.

  Cedric sniffed at her feet.

  “Let her ride him,” Lucas offered.

  “What?”

  “Let her ride him. He doesn’t mind.”

  “I want to ride!” Emily squirmed in her arms.

  Karina surveyed the bear-dog. He was almost as big as a pony. Gingerly she lowered Emily on his back.

  “Hold on to his fur,” Lucas said. Emily dug her fingers into Cedric’s brown mane and they were off again.

  They emerged from the stand of rhododendrons. Lucas stepped aside, revealing a round plaza paved with dark red stone. A bronze statue rose in the center, a nude man, muscled with crisp precision. Enormous wings thrust from his shoulders. An angel, but not a garden cupid or some mournful cemetery statue. The angel leaned forward, one arm stretched out, his muscles knotted on his frame. The wings thrust up and out, featherless, as if made of sharp bone. The angel’s perfect face stared into the distance, its gaze focused. Everything about it communicated fury and power. This was a predatory being about to kill its victim. Metal letters beveled on the side of the statue read “A. Rodin.”

  Karina glanced at Lucas. “A. Rodin? The sculptor who created The Thinker?”

  Lucas shrugged. “He says so, but I wouldn’t put it past him to have the name slapped on there over the actual sculptor’s signature. He is vain enough.”

  What? He who? She scrutinized the statue.

  Oh, God.

  The angel wore Arthur’s face. It had to be figurative—she hadn’t seen any wings on Arthur’s back when he offered her tea.

  “But Rodin died in the beginning of the last century.”

  Lucas circled the statue and kept walking.

  “Lucas!”

  He turned and looked at her over his shoulder, light eyes under black eyebrows like two chunks of ice. “Arthur is a Wither. Subspecies 21. They live a long time.”

  “How long?”

  “Long enough to have met Rodin. Come.”

  She wanted to freak out. She wanted to scream and kick her feet in panic, because right here, in cold bronze, was the final proof that this was not a nightmare. Instead Karina waved Cedric ahead of her and they kept going deeper into the garden.

  Lucas turned left, down a path leading to a section of the building structured with an almost Japanese flair. Except for the white roof, it could’ve been part of a teahouse. An older woman waited on the covered porch, a stack of clothes neatly folded next to her.

  They were twenty feet away from the porch when the siren ripped the quiet into shreds.

  CHAPTER 7

  Karina pulled Emily off the bear-dog and into her arms.

  “Stay close,” Lucas barked as he turned and ran back up the path. She followed him, trying not to stumble. They pounded over the bridge they’d crossed on the way in.

  “What’s happening, Mommy?”

  “I don’t know, baby. Hold on tight.”

  Emily was so heavy. Karina never remembered her being that heavy. It was like all of the strength had somehow gone out of her arms.

  They cleared the garden and burst into the open space between the two spires, Lucas ahead and she, out of breath, a few dozen yards behind. A group of people stood by the spires, where the road out of the settlement rolled down the hill. A familiar face looked at her with merciless sky eyes. Arthur. Daniel’s golden mane swung into view. He grinned at her, a deranged wild grin that had too much mirth. On the periphery a few yards away, Henry stood with his eyes closed, tense, his face raised to the sky. A young girl, barely a teenager, stood next to him in an identical pose. To the right an older, dark-skinned woman and another man, tall and gaunt, imitated them.

  “Good of you to join us,” Arthur said.

  Lucas walked up to stand next to him.

  A huge sound came from the distance, deep, booming, as if someone was playing a foghorn like a trumpet.

  The girl at Henry’s side inhaled sharply and dropped to her knees, breathing in ragged, painful gasps. Henry’s eyes snapped open. He thrust his hand out and clenched it into a fist. “Oh no, you don’t.”

  A desperate scream of pure pain came from the distance.

  Henry smiled. His face glowed with vicious joy, so shocking that Karina took a step back. He stared into the distance. “Not as fun to pick on someone your own size?”

  The scream kept ringing higher and higher, pausing for the mere fraction of a second that it took the agonized being that was making it to gulp some air.

  Behind Henry the fallen girl opened her eyes and rose to her feet. The older couple awakened from their trance.

  Henry twisted his fist and jerked it, as if ripping something in half.

  The scream died.

  “Thank you,” the girl said.

  “It’s all right. Next time remember to cloak.” Henry turned to Arthur. “They have two hundred civs, fifty pigs, two heavy field artillery batteries, six squads of twenty-five men each, and seven Mind Benders. Minus one.”

  He’d killed an enemy Mind Bender, Karina realized. Kind, shy Henry crushed
him, but not before he made him suffer.

  “Too many,” someone muttered.

  “It’s overkill,” Daniel said.

  “There is at least one Demon, too,” Henry said.

  Lucas laughed, a bitter, self-assured chuckle.

  They had a Demon like Lucas. Lucas would fight it. She saw it in his face. She didn’t want him to die.

  Something climbed over the crest of the distant hill, spilling onto the prairie. Karina squinted. What in the world . . .

  Arthur’s face remained serene. “Begin immediate full base evacuation.”

  A dark-haired woman on Karina’s left held out binoculars to her. “Here. Looks like I won’t need them.”

  “Thank you.” Karina lowered Emily to the ground and took the binoculars. “Stay with me, baby.”

  The woman turned and ran, back toward the garden. A moment later the alarm sounded again, but this time in two short bursts.

  People peeled off from the group and headed back, deeper into the base. Now was her chance. If she could slip away and go through the gate, she could get away. Nobody would find her in the confusion . . .

  “Lady Karina,” Arthur’s voice rang out.

  She snapped back to look at him.

  The gaze of his blue eyes bore into her. “Stay close. We must hold until the evacuation is complete. Lucas may have need of your services.”

  His voice was soft but his eyes left her no doubt—he knew what she was thinking and escape was futile.

  Arthur turned and looked out to the plain. She looked, too, raising the binoculars to her eyes. The mountains swung into view, suddenly clear. She tilted the binoculars lower . . .

  People came walking over the hill. To the right a middle-aged man in filthy khakis and a ripped shirt with thin blue stripes climbed over a rock. Next to him two dark-skinned men in jeans helped a third limp forward. On the left a woman in business clothes walked on, stumbling. The binoculars captured her face. Her features, caked with grime and dust, twisted into an expression of abject terror.

  Karina inhaled sharply. A red-haired teenage girl followed the woman. Her ruffled black skirt hung limply around her skinny legs in torn stockings. She shuddered as she walked and Karina realized she was sobbing.