Toxic (8 page)

South, bad idea
.

What did he mean by that?
she inquired silently with a movement of her shoulders. Dewei didn't write anything more.

“We could vote.”

Bruce's proposal received a bitter welcome.

“We don't live in a democracy anymore. It’s him who’s in charge.”

Alva's reply ended the conversation. The young man moved over close to the bow.

The opportunity for a one-on-one presented itself in the middle of the afternoon. Under a blazing sun, Hector abandoned his post. Elaine followed him with her eyes until he went inside. Carefully and without making any noise, she joined him right away. Bruce and Alva we're lying down facing the deck, asleep. Masters had his back to her.

As soon as she adventured beyond the door frame. The Colombian seized his shotgun which he armed with a quick gesture. “Get out or I'll kill you.”

“Calm down. I just want to talk.”

“There's nothing to talk about. We're going south. If you don't like it, you can get off.”

“I understand.”

His attitude didn't surprise her. Elaine's father, an accomplished sailor, always made them remember that he was the sole master of his ship during Sunday family getaways. No matter what happened, he demanded blind obedience of his orders.

“So, skedaddle.”

“I... to cross the Caribbean Sea, we need to restock provisions, potable water, make sure we have fuel, materials. Also, you'll have to deal with us for a few days during this. I don't think that's what you want.”

Hector agitated the gun's barrel. “
¡
Fuera!
”

Returning to the deck, she wondered what was making him so nervous. Then it hit her: an armed Colombian on a big semi-sub at large in Florida.
Of course
, she said to herself.
It's no surprise he wants to navigate alone
.

Masters shared her opinion when she mentioned the subject to him.

“A drug trafficker.”

“I didn't see any drugs below,” she remarked.

“We haven't seen the rooms or the hold. I imagine that in this world like in the previous one, junkies still need their fix. Maybe he sold it all.”

“He couldn’t have many clients left.”

“The aliens and the epidemic succeeded where years of fighting failed. It was enough to eradicate the demand, not the supply. We always did it backwards.”

Elaine laid down on the paneling. The sun shone. The sky glowed blue. For a moment, she felt herself transported onto her dad's sail boat, listening to him grumble about the idiots who governed us. But the previous world wasn't really that bad after all.

T
he cargo hold of a T-J could hold up to twelve soldiers in PAS spatial dress. Jave was sitting in the stall neighboring that of the Primark. Three mercenaries filled up half of the row in front of them. Not far away, they had put the Russian, on a tiny seat taken from a human vehicle fixed on a removable pallet. The quick work of technical services confirmed the adaptation capacities of Naakrit's organization when confronted with varied situations, sometimes incongruous. The emissary meditated on the importance of reliable and efficient logistics.

The vessel had jumped out of the atmosphere. Its ballistic trajectory came to its peak above Europe, and then it plunged in the direction of the east coast of the American continent. Oleg hadn't moved since the take-off in Dubai. The S descent had shaken him. The maneuver aimed to disperse excess kinetic energy and to break the speed of the re-entrance by using a series of closed turns. The human had been tossed about to the right and to the left, restrained by his straps under the indifferent gazes of the mercenaries.

The T-J approached from the north. The virtual projection revealed a green landscape filmed from a drone sent as a scout. The quickness with which the ecosystem was recovering its vitality and its ability to “re-conquer” former empty spaces didn't really surprise him. Vegetation set off to attack buildings, with apartments and bridges constituting new temporary niches. The slow process would cause a sort of dissolution of the local civilization over the very long term.

The vehicle turned to face the notched horizon. “They called this place Manhattan. Large city built on an island. An ideal position, almost unique for a raid. All we had to do was cut the access and the products could no longer escape.”

“That's what you did, I presume. How many units were captured?”

Naakrit's bitterness came as a whistling sound. “Three hundred thousand, at the best. The city became infested so quickly.”

“Am I to understand that we're going to land in a territory dominated by infected humans?”

“That's why I brought along an escort.”

“Three soldiers against millions of these creatures.”

Jave closed the visor of his helmet and checked his CO2 levels.

“Don't be afraid. We're armed and have drone support,” he heard through bone conduction.

The tracker-jumper glided through the forest setting with a backdrop of broken down façades. It moved like a crab, following the direction of the wind. The ramp lowered onto a landscape in the middle of mutating. What was once Central Park was bursting from its borders and infiltrating neighboring streets. The vegetable density was such that finding a clear surface revealed itself to be difficult. The T-J continued its progress southward before coming to a stop.

The three mercenaries jumped first to secure the disembarkment of the Primark and the emissary. The latter moved towards the gaping opening. “And the human?” he inquired.

Naakrit pressed a button on a display connected to the cargo hold doors. “Express delivery.”

The Russian screamed, hands covering his face. He slid backwards, still strapped to his seat. He suddenly emerged at his side, and then fell into nothingness. Oleg still hadn't stopped screaming. Before hitting the ground, the agrav engine worked its magic and the pallet softly hit the tall grass. Jave launched himself when it was his turn. He straightened himself out a few meters away on top of the savage prairie. The detectors signaled the presence of spoiled products, but they didn't constitute a threat.

“We're going to have to walk,” he announced.

They had to rely on the human way of getting around, which didn't benefit from any protection. The reptilian had refused to give him any means of locomotion, as this way, they would catch him again easily if he were to run away. He watched the Russian drag himself out of his seat and stumble while shouting. The translator displayed a series of Russian swear words.

Oleg adjusted his earphones and addressed them. “Things have changed,” he started. “There are infected people here, right?”

“We will keep them away. Concentrate on your task. Your miserable life depends on it,” Naakrit pressed.

A green background in the middle of a forest of skyscrapers
, read the emissary, standing up on the handrail. He ran through the information extracted from the tera-servers.
It seemed certain
, he told himself,
t
hat this place would have delighted Lynians who were fans of oxygen intoxication
. He verified his carbon dioxide levels once again and then deactivated the agrav. After a brief free fall, his feet penetrated the weakened asphalt of a former promenade. Networks of roots fractured the coating already invaded by shrubs.

“I lived here for a year, before... before you arrived. We're near the Museum of Natural History. The easiest thing to do would be to take the subway to avoid the hordes. It must be rush hour down there.”

Oleg's proposal seemed sensible to him. He didn't reveal what seemed to be a joke according to the translator.

“We're following you.”

The group followed the alley, flanked by the three mercenaries in charge of repelling potential infected creatures. Naakrit and Jave assured close protection. Despite this device, the human didn't feel comfortable. He was looking everywhere, his head turning from left to right, constantly sweeping the area. All of a sudden, he stopped and crouched down.

In front of him, Jave saw a bolt of lightning and heard a familiar noise. Naakrit hurried, leaving him alone with Oleg. Next, he heard the Primark reprimand the soldier who had just shot, it seemed, at a spoiled product. “These are investments,” the reptilian reminded him. “Don't shoot unless it's absolutely necessary.”

They got back into place and started again. The entrance to the underground station mentioned by the Russian appeared along a street designated as Central Park West. Multitudes of shrubs were prospering on the cracked asphalt. The clusters of bamboo reached impressive sizes. The half-erased signs at the entrance to the subway comforted the human. “We have to go down. A service tunnel links the museum to 79
^th
Station, and from there, an entrance leads to the laboratory.”

Naakrit made sure that the way was clear. He released half a dozen miniature drones which were no bigger than insects. The images transmitted by the swarm made the initial plan impossible. The water had flooded the tunnels.

“According to the map, 79
^th
Station is one kilometer away on foot.”

“And between us,” Jave specified, “are thousands of infected creatures. We should make a fail-safe itinerary.”

The reptilian, who wished to conserve the commercial potential of the spoiled products, wanted to avoid going to extremes. “By air, then.”

“And him?”

“Take him with you.”

The Russian recoiled. The option wasn't at all appealing to him, and Jave could see that. The emissary extended a mechanical arm towards him. “Don't make me use force.”

Resigned, Oleg came closer and put his hands on the transverse alloy composite which folded around his torso. Wedged in like this, there was no risk of him falling. The alien activated his agrav repulsors and together, they rose above the street, offering him a unique view of the unfortunate ending of one of humanity's model cities.

The infected wandered like damned souls in the middle of a decrepit world which was falling into ruin. They flew along the cracked walls, façades marked by fighting or weather. The apartments with their broken windows seemed like sepulchral skylights, open to the wind.

Oleg lowered his eyes. His legs were hanging out in the open, above a city which he had known as dynamic and noisy.
The most surprising of all,
he thought,
was the silence
. He didn't hear any of the sirens or horns which had made up the everyday sounds of the inhabitants. They flew like birds between the buildings where flora and fauna were being reorganized in levels, taking advantage of the verticality which kept them out of the reach of the hordes that proliferated under the sun.

The group set down just before the entrance that lead to the underground subway. Already, the infected, grouped together at the end of the street, were starting to move in their direction. Oleg waited at the alien's side, without moving.

The robotic recon brought good news. The partial flooding of the premises didn't stop them from passing, as long as they remained on the upper levels. They would have water up to their calves, which it considered acceptable.

The troop started down the metal stairs. The armored aliens lit up their helmet projectors. Two mercenaries had the back of the group.

The heavily damaged walls showed signs of major firearms damage. The halo of a lamp captured a half-torn up sign with the words
Siva-B
, followed by
Don't break the law. Get vaccinated!

Oleg shot an ironic glance which Jave questioned. He let them know the basis of his thoughts. “Da, we vaccinated thousands of people with this shit and look where we are now.”

“Now's not the time to lag behind,” the Primark nagged.

The Russian brought them to a door which one of the troopers smashed open with a kick. The beams of light didn't even reach the other side.

“The main entrance to the complex is about five hundred meters from here.”

The narrow tunnel forced them to go single file. Their armor scraped the walls in places. Oleg didn't feel right. If they were to run into something bad, they would be in an unpleasant situation. He took a deep breath upon arriving at the room, which was big enough for them to deploy a security perimeter.

Oleg pointed to the massive entrance. “The laboratory takes up five levels and runs up to the edge of the Hudson River. Like I told you, everything was burned after the alarm was triggered and purification procedures were initiated. It's not very likely that you'll find useful information.”

“That, we'll judge for ourselves,” retorted Naakrit, giving a sign to one of the mercenaries. The mercenary then placed a cord on the armored entrance. “There's no risk to you.”

Once it was placed, the device emitted a blinding glow. The rectangular cut glowed for several seconds before a soldier gave the panel a light push, making it fall backwards with a muffled thud.

Jave was first to cross the still smoking threshold.

The lights of his PAS swept across the darkness. The rooms seemed impenetrable, the walls burnt to a cinder by an intense heat. The emissary put his foot down. A film of carbon remained glued to his metal-covered toes. He felt like he was walking on top of a plate of glass which crunched and cracked under his steps.