Animalis (9 page)

They followed for an hour, making their way west, to the outer fringe of the port city. It was an older portion of the city that didn’t expect to be visited by anyone but the daily workers, and the majority of the buildings were rusted and stained. Here in what seemed to be the slums of the city, Jax realized he couldn’t see another human anywhere. They watched as a shipping door on a three-story factory opened, and the cargo truck pulled in.

“Here, let us off on this corner,” Hank said. “Captain, they’ve stopped.”

He gave the location and received an update on the location of the other team, which was now forty-five minutes away. Talon slowed to a stop, crouching to let Hank off, and Wes stopped a few feet away.

“What happened to the other unit?” Jax asked.

“The city’s navigation computer sent them to the north harbors. Could be a glitch, but it’s suspicious.” Hank shook his head. “Every computer system is bound to have bugs.” He turned to the kangaroos. “Hey, you two. You can take a break, go get some breakfast or something. Just stay within five minutes of here to pick us back up.”

“Thank you, mates. You’ll love Australia, so just send in a request for another ride whenever you’d like,” Talon said and tipped his hat.

With a few bounds, they were gone, and suddenly Jax felt slow and vulnerable. When they had been on their mounts, a city block seemed almost too close. But now, among the more feral Animalis, it felt like a death march.

“Let’s make a casual pass in front of the building to see what sort of security they have.” Hank said, holding up his ICT scanner.

They started their walk to the building. On the edge of the sidewalk they were on, a dingo Animalis paced back and forth. Its left eye had a gray film over it. Its upper lip had a long scar that extended up its face. He was muttering to himself.

While Jax was looking at him, the one good eye stared back at him. The hairs on the back of Jax’s neck stood up. The thing seemed to light up in a fury when it noticed Jax looking at it. It started yelling a string of words that Jax couldn’t understand, a mix of several different languages, probably all profanities.

Hank kept walking and grabbed Jax’s shirt to pull him along. The dingo got right up in Jax’s face, snarling. That close, the large canine teeth looked like daggers.

“You looking for something!” the dingo shouted, then it switched to another language before saying, “I’m the boss of this sidewalk. I say when someone can look at me! Hey!”

It kept at it as Hank dragged Jax past him.

“Keep walking,” Hank said to Jax. “He wants you to know he’s tough, but he isn’t going to do anything.”

Jax felt Hank’s hand tremble when he let his shirt go.

The dingo stopped at the next corner but continued to yell. After a moment, he turned around and went back to muttering. Several more Animalis walked along “his” sidewalk, but he didn’t seem to notice.

The building that the transport had gone into was large, made with plastic alloy that had been a popular construction material twenty years ago. It had a lobby area in the front, and two big bays for receiving shipments.

Jax saw a badger scratching at the counter inside the lobby as they passed. It didn’t move its head, but Jax saw its eyes flick up and watch them as they walked past.

“It looks like they aren’t expecting any trouble,” Jax said when they were past the building.

“They shouldn’t,” Hank said. “Hold on, this spot will do.”

The building next to the warehouse had wall screens looping an animated fishing advertisement. They stepped into the alley between the two buildings, and Hank leaned against the wall trying to look casual. His eyes flitted back and forth.

“Here’s the scan,” Hank said.

A document blinked in Jax’s retina monitor. He expanded it, sending a transparent re-creation of the inner rooms of the warehouse floating into the alley. The scan had only been able to penetrate fifteen feet into the warehouse, about five feet past the lobby area. As Jax looked over the image, Hank kept talking.

“This building is owned by Cybollo Corporation, which seems to be a middle man in the fish industry. Operations are run by some guy, Marcus Finch. It looks like they take shipments of fish from all over the world and sell them to hotels and restaurants. Could be that their latest shipment was not exactly fish.”

The program Hank had run the scan through made the most out of the image, more than Jax would have seen. Along the back wall of the lobby sat three office rooms. Then inside the garage bays was open space. The program identified two hyena Animalis inside the offices, based off of a foot and an elbow that had been caught in the scan. It was a strange breed to find in Australia, but other than that, the scan looked normal.

Jax felt anxious, he wanted to be doing something more than wait for the second unit to arrive, which was still twenty-five minutes away. The back of the building had to be checked for security, didn’t it? He closed the scan.

“While you go through this information, I’m going to loop around the back of the building to see what’s back there.”

Hank nodded, appearing to be consumed by the computer scans.

Jax jogged along the side of the buildings to the alley. Deadly scenarios started to creep into his imagination. There could be a group of guards ready to shoot trespassers in the alley, or a sniper on the adjacent building. The sniper’s laser would create a clean hole through his head, every blood vessel cauterized. Would it hurt? Or were the nerves numbed, either sending half his body into quiet paralysis or killing him? Hank probably wouldn’t even hear the sound of his body crumpling to the ground when it happened.

He tried to prepare himself for each scenario. If it was a sniper, where would it be? With a quick glance, he scanned the edges of the rooftops and pinpointed what seemed to be a position of optimal visibility, where he would be if he was a sniper.

Jax decided to play ignorant and explain that he was lost, if anyone actually was in the alley, but there wasn’t. Nothing was behind the building. The back alley was filled with boxes and trash and pigeons, but there weren’t any Animalis. Jax came out into the alley to see if there was anything useful about this trip to the back.

There were two big glass windows on the back of the building. Jax crept up to the bottom of the nearest one and peeked in.

Inside, there was a small room. Boxes were stacked in the corner; there were a few chairs, a desk, but nothing that gave very much information. The glass could be cut into with Jax’s laser tool. Maybe this would be the best way into the building? The door to the room was cracked open a little. He was about to check the other window when a message appeared in his retina monitor:

Someone’s coming—

But the message ended abruptly.

Coming for Jax? It was too vague. It wasn’t like Hank to leave something so vague.

He sent a message back:

What’s the situation? Hostile?

He crept to the edge of the building and peeked around it. There wasn’t anyone coming for him. Hank should have responded immediately, so Jax messaged the captain:

Hank’s gone silent. His last message was “Someone’s coming.” Can you get through to him?

As Jax crept back down the alley to where Hank had been, the captain’s reply appeared:

No response to me, either. If you can’t find him, he was taken. He’ll only have a few minutes before they kill him, if they haven’t already. We need Hank. Can you get into the warehouse?

Jax sent back:

Confirming that Hank is gone. There is a way in through the back. Checking the front before going in after him.

Jax came back out onto the sidewalk in front of the building, scanning left and right. Something was wrong. Jax could feel a panic rising up within. Hank must have felt in danger when he sent the message “Someone’s coming.” Could he not see them? Did someone come at him from behind? If Hank couldn’t use his retina monitor, he was either unconscious, or the internet connection was being blocked by some kind of signal disrupter.

Jax’s adrenaline was starting to tunnel his awareness. He had to go after Hank alone … with only his laser tool.

He messaged Hank:

I’m coming for you. I’m going into the warehouse. If you aren’t there, you’d better stop me now.

Then he messaged the captain:

I’m going into the warehouse after Hank.

Jax sprinted back down the alley to the back of the building. At the window, he pulled out his laser tool and set the variable laser focus lens to one centimeter and lit the tip. He quickly cut a small circle in the glass.

A message from Hank popped up:

… h#rn … d … 0110 ... dont@ …

Jax dropped below the window to read it. But it was gibberish, jumbled. A mind that was struggling with consciousness could send a message like that. Or a mind that was being tortured.

At least he knew Hank was still alive. He stood back up and wet his fingertips. Using the viscosity of his spit, he brought his fingers close to the glass and let the spit grab onto the glass. Very, very slowly, he pulled his hand back, and the minute suction from the spit tipped the glass out toward himself. He caught the little circle and lowered it down to the ground. Then, using the hole as a handhold, he hopped up onto the ledge of the window and cut another section of glass around the hole, large enough for him to fit through. When the glass came free, he stepped down into the room and set the glass against the wall.

He loped to the partially open door. The opening was just enough for Jax to see a small sliver of the space beyond. The room opened up into a large factory. He saw conveyor belts, racks of boxes, and several printers. Animalis in white coats and hair nets stood in a line, watching wrapped packages of fish on a conveyor belt. Their backs were turned to Jax.

Around the edge of the room was a maze of refrigeration boxes: nine feet high, five feet wide, and twelve feet deep, Jax’s retina monitor told him. Those had to be what was shipped to the restaurants in the area.

Jax didn’t see any guards, or Animalis walking around with weapons, as he had expected. It seemed so normal, like he was intruding on a perfectly legitimate business.

Jax crept out onto the factory floor. He noticed he was holding his breath and began to take in slow, controlled breaths. Jax stayed close to the refrigeration boxes, walking behind the group watching the conveyor belt as he moved through the warehouse. It looked like there was a transport near the front. Now he could see someone else moving. He crouched down and moved over to where a second conveyor belt assembled fish products overhead.

Two hyena Animalis came out of the back of the truck, pushing what Jax recognized as one of the large crates from the plane. They pushed it to the far wall, away from Jax, and went back to the transport for another.

Jax slid underneath the belts, between racks of shelves, under another conveyor belt, and stopped behind the last refrigeration box, two yards from the line of crates the Animalis had brought out. The crates had a superconducting base that floated just above the ground, and had thick plastic covers protecting their contents. Once the two hyenas were back inside the cargo truck, Jax silently moved to the first crate.

There was a menu to interact with the crate in Jax’s monitor, but he knew that might set off an alert somewhere. He’d have to make an incision small enough that it wouldn’t disrupt any electrical equipment in the plastic.

Jax reset his laser to an inch and cut it open on the back. The hyenas stepped onto the walkway coming out of the truck, sending a hollow echo into the warehouse. They were on their way back. He abandoned the crate and ran in a low crouch to the nearest refrigerator.

The two Animalis pulled the crate over to the wall and went back to the transport again. Jax ran back and finished his cut. The piece of plastic fell away to reveal weapons—pistols and rifles. A rush of panic hit Jax—he had found them! And the Animalis had Hank.

Jax reached in and tried to pull out a rifle from his impromptu opening. It clicked against the plastic and got caught against something. He could hear the hyenas moving out of the transport. Trying again, he pushed the tip in, twisted it, and pulled the rifle out by the butt. Their footsteps had left the walkway, and they were making their way across the glossy finish of the warehouse floor. Jax dashed back to the refrigerator and held his breath, listening. The hyenas were talking in another language, possibly Russian? They put the crate against the wall and went to another room. His risky exposure had gone unnoticed. Jax let the air come out of his lungs.

He looked at the weapon he had pulled out. It was an advanced laser rifle. Jax checked for a cartridge and found it loaded with three power cells. Laser guns had been a fantasy until the introduction of power cell batteries. The super-saturated electron carbon mixture of one power cell could supply enough electricity to take thirty shots. You could set the penetration level and the distance for what you wanted the beam to stop. The lens tried to mimic what a traditional firearm would do by adapting the focus of the laser in a fraction of a second, sending the deadly tip of the laser away from the nozzle of the rifle.