Day Twelve ∞ Tuesday morning & Anno 6649
THE FIRST THOUGHT on Danny's mind when he woke up was the same one he fell asleep with last night: what was written on Mickmi's scalp and forehead.
These were not random marks—these were there by design. They were put there to inform of what she carried within her, what kind of animal her extra chromosomes belonged to. There was no doubt about it: everything they had gone through up to now was pointing to this. It explained why she had an affinity—or some sort of psychic connection—to the panther he happened to pick up that night. That was why she could retrace its exact steps, experience what it experienced, feel what it felt, and taste what it tasted. Her whole body seemed to be connected to the panther in a way that it even reacted with the memory of her old scars.
They'd stared at each other in silence for a good minute before he asked her why she would be a carrier of cat chromosomes.
Her answer came without thought: "I am an Ark."
"Ark?" he echoed, her response conjuring images of animals marching in two by two. "You mean like Noah and the Ark saving the animal kingdom?"
That seemed to strike home, her eyes brightening. "I am an Ark for a single species of the Animal Kingdom, aye."
"But how... Is that something you were born with?"
She wasn't sure. But one thing she was sure of: she was not the only one. He could see that: she couldn't have been the only one if the purpose of her hosting cat chromosomes was to be an Ark. Her world must have been in serious trouble if people had to be used to host DNA from so many species. It was disturbing. Were there any side effects? How long would they have been expected to do that? How many generations before her world could sustain animal life again?
"You must not let it happen to your Earth," she'd said.
No, we mustn't. He sighed, closing his eyes. He couldn't imagine what that would be like; he didn't want to ever have to know. He hoped it would never happen in his lifetime—or any lifetime at all for that matter. But if World War Three broke out, or if Earth got hit by a huge meteorite...
He frowned at the depressing thought, rubbing his face—then froze. He'd heard a knock, but not on this door.
A pause, then there was another rapping sound. "Danny dear, are you awake?"
"Crap!" he exhaled and sat up hastily; he was still in Mickmi's room. It was only a matter of time before Mother found out where he'd been spending his nights. And there was no explanation that he could possibly give.
He heard his bedroom door open and Mother's puzzled voice muttering as she closed it again, then she knocked on the bathroom door. "Danny?"
He got up from the floor and stood listening inside the door as Mother's footsteps started down the stairs. He waited until she had almost reached the ground floor before pushing his head out.
"Gina dear, where's your brother?" he heard her say in the kitchen. He quietly skirted the balustrade to the other side of the landing, avoiding the creaking floor boards, heading for the balcony.
"I don't know... Maybe outside?"
Danny waited for Mother to open the front door to mask the sound of him opening the balcony door—and then he was outside, breathing a sigh of relief. He'd have to reconsider how to make sure Mickmi was safe at night.
"Good morning, Mickmi; have you seen Danny?" he heard her say below.
He leaned over the wooden railing. "I'm up here."
She stepped down from the porch and looked up. "Oh, there you are... Didn't you hear me looking for you? I wanted your advice on something."
"No, Mom, I didn't hear you—I'll be right down."
∞
Selina's deep thought took her back to the early days of her assignment, in the days when her name was only Blanc Aave. Entering the garden dome through the inner archway, she absorbed green energy from the lush trees as she passed them.
She found Queen Leyonara near the large pond, placing a bundle of mixed flowers in the basket King Urson carried, conversing. Both wore their casual loose-fitting tunics in earth tones matching their hair, the king in dark burnt ochre and the queen in yellow sienna, laced with subtle metallic threads.
As Leyonara stepped to a hanging rose bush, dozens of butterflies launched to the air and fluttered around her, a dancing aura of color and iridescence.
Her laughter rang through the air. "Good morn, my flower wardens."
Several perched on her lifted arm before they all streamed off to the nearest hibiscus tree.
King Urson chuckled. "You never cease to amaze me, my love." He caught sight of Aave as she halted at a respectful distance. "I believe you have an update approaching. Shall I take these to the hall?"
"Ah! Yes, my dear, thank you. Please ask Faera to arrange them on the tables."
Blanc Aave bowed her head slightly as the king's large frame approached.
"She misses your company, you know, now that you oversee the little ones," he said quietly, pausing.
"I know." Aave smiled.
"Saw you how the butterflies commune with her? Could you share that image with our Daughters?"
"Aye."
"When you see it fit, of course." Urson nodded, smiling through his trimmed beard.
"Of course, my King."
Aave dipped her head again as he continued on his way and Leyonara came to her and took her hands.
"Good morn, Blanc Aave. I believe you and my consort hatch plans in secret." Leyonara lifted a brow at her and smiled. "I mind not. What news have you for me today, my friend? How are my babies?"
"Good morn, my Queen. Both are well and showing much promise. I shall conduct my visits shortly."
"It is their ninth monthday today... One year already! How long is it to their Medolescenthood Ceremony? I cannot wait to meet them."
"In 99 months. Worry not—time will fly."
Aave described the latest milestones passed as they walked arm in arm to the exit steps of the palace dome where the clear foot transit tunnel began.
Leyonara turned to her. "Can I expect your presence at the yearday celebration dinner tonight? You may make a brief report to the Council then."
"I shall be here, my Queen."
Blanc Aave took her leave, phasing out of visibility and relocating at her destination near the highlands of West Amasia over 6,000 kilometers away. She usually alternated the order in which she visited the Daughters. This time she would see the Daughter hosting the black jaguar DNA—a green-eyed bundle of joy with black hair that promised to grow thick and straight, reminiscent of the people originally native to the region.
She descended through the roof of the dome habitat to locate the modest residence near the center of the city. Through the window on the second floor, she saw little Mic Lepantra Wamba sitting on the Royal Matrona's lap. Remaining invisible, Aave passed through the wall and approached for closer observation. The sound of that sweet voice still thrilled Aave; it radiated love, filling the room.
"Nee nee, nanee nannee. Mee mee Mic, pretty Mic! Nananeenee..."
Wamba laughed at the Matrona's attempts at drawing in the air. Then she looked up and straight into Aave's eyes. Without missing a beat, she lifted a tiny finger and pointed at her. "Nana, look!"
Aave froze, astonished. Wamba could see her in her present, out-of-phase Aumega state! This was a rarity indeed.
"Lay-dee, lay-dee!"
The Royal Matrona followed the toddler's direction, smiled and pulled the finger away. "Point not like that, Mic. It's not polite. Besides, nothing's there."
"Lay-dee play with mee!"
Feeling exposed, Blanc Aave rephased to her human body. Mic Wamba bubbled something unintelligible and pointed again. The Matrona looked up and her eyes widened at Aave's sudden appearance in the room. She jumped up and backed away with a piercing scream while shielding Wamba with her body.
The scream triggered a tremor from within, jarring Selina from that vivid memory to one word.
Cold.
An alert that her human body needed attention. Immediately she made her atoms vibrate faster for a few seconds, quickly bringing up her core temperature to a comfortable cool. Then she scanned the room without using her eyes, sampling the movement of the air.
There.
The insidious drop in temperature came from narrow air vents near the ceiling; it had crept up on her, compounding the soaking chill from her feet. But this was nothing compared to the cold of space on that last journey. This was different.
Different.
No longer did she have a clue of what to expect. No longer was she certain of her ability to navigate the fulfillment of her final assignment. This was totally alien territory.
She considered her situation. It was simple to switch to her true self and escape the restraints, but that would defeat the purpose of her being here. And it would remove the element of surprise when the time was right.
She could also easily initiate mind force over these men. But weighing the risks, she had no idea of who else or how many more were watching remotely over the new system. She was very aware that deviation from expected protocol would result in reinforcements being sent in.
Maintaining her human form limited her probing range and duration, and limited her effective range of influence. If they had the technology that could restrict her, it would without doubt be applied as soon as she revealed her capabilities.
So she would remain as they had placed her, learn as much as she could and await what was coming her way. As long as she had their attention, The One would be safe.
She extended her perception to the control room and beyond. He was still there, ever watching, waiting for something, she did not know what. He was now sitting and had one of his men standing behind him. They said nothing for the entire time.
That was how Selina spent her first four hours in restraints. She reduced her discomfort, subtly rearranging the cells in her body to soften the pressure of the hard metal in her back, and slimmed her wrists and ankles inside the straps. She stopped looking through the glass with her eyes, and lowered them, staring across the room, yet never ceasing to be aware of his presence. Nothing happened for the entire time. She remained alone in the brightly lit room, in silence.
Outside the room was silent too, there were hardly any vibrations of movement coming to her from the rest of the building though she was aware of the several presences scattered throughout, including three in the corridor immediately outside. Just the occasional faint aftereffect of some vehicle driving by on the street outside.
After midnight she went into rest mode, closing her eyes, relaxing her limbs. Her neck remained straight, never allowing her head to dip. Suddenly a loud crackling sound made her eyes fly open. It continued, like indeterminate static from a radio with occasional clicks and beeps. She tried to analyze its purpose, found no hidden message, and eventually tuned the noise out by reducing the sensitivity of her membranes and inner ears.
Barely five minutes later, the blare of a siren jarred her senses and she felt the muscles of her brows contract to a slight frown as her gaze flew to the speaker above the glass. Then she lowered her eyes to meet his sharp gaze and read his satisfaction in having her startled.
Over the next hour, Selina found she was not allowed to enter rest mode for more than five to ten minutes at a time before a siren or loud ringing interrupted her. She was beginning to understand the purpose of what she was experiencing. By the third occasion, she had calibrated her atoms to start neutralizing vibrations a split-second before the speaker blared alive, and managed to gain some rest.
But that did not last for long either. As she stopped reacting and remained with eyes closed during the fifth audio assault, in came three men. She looked up when one paused in front of her. He was carrying a bucket of water, and by the size of it, she did not think all of its content could hold in the basin. In the next moment, she was doused with ice-cold water, and she gasped in shock—her body reacting as human bodies do. She shook her head, blinking the water away from her eyes, shivers threatening to overtake her.
Before she could analyze the situation, her arms and legs were released, basin removed, and she was lifted to her feet, only to be shoved into the wall with arms twisted at her back. The man held her roughly, keeping her head turned away while objects were swiftly moved. Then she was shoved to the floor, and the footsteps walked briskly away.
She waited with head hanging. As soon as she heard the door lock behind them, she rose from the puddle left by her on the floor. She looked around; the room was absolutely empty. The speaker was silent. The silence was loud after being exposed to the abuse of static for two hours straight.
What was this new strategy?
She was free to move within the confines of this room—perhaps she should utilize the opportunity. She could not predict what their next move would be, but she was certain that her release from the chair was only temporary. So she started walking in a circle, round and round in the room, first clockwise, then anti-clockwise. As she did so, she increased the vibration of her atoms, raising her body heat enough for her clothes to warm and dry, while absorbing the moisture to hydrate her cells.
Eventually she halted in the middle of the room and sank down into lotus position, her legs folded in front of her, facing the glass—facing him. His attention was still unwavering, untiring, unlike any human she had ever met. She let her gaze focus beyond the wall as her attention turned inward, contemplating her situation again—this time coming to a conclusion.
She could see this as a test.
She had never been tested before; she had only supervised the tests of The Two in their training toward selection. That was a different lifetime.
This was here and now; this was the opportunity for her to prove her worth to her Queen, staying true to her friend. At the end of this, if she succeeded in fulfilling her assignment, she would have proved her worth to The Daughters—to The One. It was the only thing that mattered.
A test.
A time for her to test her boundaries, to stretch them, to see if she could rise to the challenge.
The full understanding of her objective made her usual expression shift into a slight smile, the uncertainty and confusion that had troubled her since the new arrival put to rest.
She should not have smiled.
The door flew open—the start of fresh activity—but she rose before they reached her to yank her to her feet. She was not surprised when she was pulled away from the wall that the chair and table had returned to the room, along with another chair. This time they strapped her in with her ankles tied on the highest rung between the chair legs, forcing her knees to a sharp bend, the metal hard in her back. Then they left again.
She decreased the pressure on her wrists and ankles, and waited.
Five minutes.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen...
The door opened and closed. Selina did not look but kept staring straight ahead, feeling his presence very close. After a moment standing and looking at her, he said, "Do you know who I am?"
She did not turn her head, but she knew he expected an answer. "Yes."
The man strode to the chair in front of her and stopped, his very demeanor demanding that she look at him with her eyes.
She did.
He was exactly how she had perceived him. His stature was deceptive, belying his power. He was of slight build, with graying hair slicked back, pointy cheekbones and a scar under the left eye that mirrored the edge of his glasses. She had already noticed his shoes, polished like glass, the gold watch that he had removed before entering, and the thick, crested ring. He was short of one little finger—a souvenir of absence due to some traumatic event many years ago.
"What is my name?" When she did not respond immediately, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I know you heard me yesterday. Say my name."
A strange name, she thought. "Apocalypse."
"Excellent. Know that I – am – your Apocalypse." He eyed her a while, then went to place his case on the table. "Here on Earth," he started in a conversational tone, taking off his glasses, placing them next to the case, "we like to use chemicals to help us know when people are lying." He took off his jacket, laid it properly folded behind the case, then turned to her, rolling up his shirt sleeves. "I am not going to lie to you... It's important that we are truthful."
He went to her left side and rolled her sleeve all the way up to her shoulder. Then he felt the folded material, checked her collar, then grabbed a section of her hair, squeezing it with a tug. "Dry," he commented, as if to himself. "Interesting."
She followed his movements without moving, staring straight ahead.
"Lucky for you, my employer wants to learn from you—and not just from studying your corpse. So I'm not going to kill you. At least, not just yet..."
A movement entering the control room drew her attention and she raised her eyes to the one-way glass, meeting the gaze of the only observer in the vicinity—Sterling. She could feel his disapproval of what was about to happen. She still did not know what it was.
Apocalypse opened his case, pulled on a pair of latex gloves, moved a couple of objects, and picked up a syringe and two small bottles. His movements were slow and deliberate, intended to unnerve his subject. He carefully extracted a certain measure of the clear fluids into the syringe, turned it upside down, tapped it and squirted a few drops out. He was satisfied.
"I'm giving you a shot of 3-Quinuclidinyl benzilate, with just a touch of a nerve stimulator," he said, turning to her. "It usually causes an above-average human with incredible pain thresholds to pass out in thirty seconds... Let's see how it works on you," he added, smiling coldly as he stepped close to her and injected her arm. "Don't worry. I won't let you sleep for long."
He stepped back to his chair and sat down, watching her closely for the chemical to take effect.
Selina found herself blinking a few times and her heart rate triple to nine beats a minute as she felt the cold foreign substance making its way through her vein. But she had already activated her defenses before it could spread. With targeted focus she mobilized her atoms, her cells, first making her vein impenetrable to prevent leakage to her nervous system, then reversing the blood flow to force the chemical toward her fingertips.
Without wavering her gaze from his, she shifted her hand off the armrest, as far as the restraint would allow her, holding it over the floor. The man watched her movement, met her gaze, then looked at her hand again. Little by little, she felt the liquid squeeze out through her pores, gathering to become heavy enough to drip to the floor.
"You're very intelligent... Incredible self-preservation response. I'm impressed." Apocalypse paused, not showing any form of reaction. But she could hear the surprise registering in his brain. "It is not wise to play smart with me."
She brought her hand back to a rest, inspecting the cells of her affected vein from within. The inner and middle layers forming the blood vessel along its length, and the white blood cells that had transported the chemicals were tingling uncomfortably. But it was manageable. It was keeping them locked off from exposing the rest of her cells that was the problem. There would be decreased blood flow to that part of her arm. She would have to do some cellular gymnastics to keep it from falling asleep. She had no idea how long she would need to do that before the effects of the drug wore off.
She returned her focus to the man, though she had not moved her gaze in the few seconds she inspected herself. She perceived his internal smile of satisfaction, and she realized that he had noticed her brief distraction. He noticed everything, and she needed to learn fast to match against this brain.
She decided she would probe him. She mentally stretched toward him as he sat there locking her gaze from just an arm's length away. But she stopped short, hesitating just inches from the host of his mind. The darkness that this man was, was denser than she had imagined. Not only was it dark, it was black—and violent... savage. It made her cells cringe. Cautious, she decided to withdraw. Entering this mind would with all likelihood come at a cost higher than not entering it; a cost that would jeopardize any possible chance she might have at completing her assignment.
His sunken eyes narrowed a bit more. "Okay, Snow Ghost..."
He smirked, waiting for a reaction. She saw no need to give him one.
"You think you can read my mind, right? Control it, huh? Go ahead, try. You like what you see? I told you from the beginning that I would never lie to you... Read my mind, know who I am—and know what's going to happen to you if I don't get what I want."
Selina drew a long, silent breath, sending extra oxygen to her affected arm as she waited for what was coming next.
He noticed that too. "Do you know why I'm here?"
She decided it was best for her to be responsive. "Yes."
"Then why don't you tell me?"
"You wish to know whether I am alone."
"Are you?"
"No."
"See... That was easy."
Selina wondered vaguely why he would expect it to be difficult.
"Who is with you?"
"Blanc Aave."
"Your ghost. And where is it?" His eyes did not waver from hers.
"Here."
"Where here?"
The answer that she had in mind to give did not seem to be appropriate for this man. Defining the word 'here' would probably aggravate him, so she did not answer.
He ignored her silence. "Can you tell me where you're from?"
"Earth."
"Was your Earth violent—was it painful?"
She found that a strange question. "Violence ended millennia ago," she responded.
"You have a lot to learn then if you're going to stay in our world... We're all about violence." He studied her for a while, then said, "Do you know what pain is? Wait, don't answer that." He got up and went behind her, gently lifted the hair from the side of her face and gave it a hard tug. Then he pressed his cheek against hers. Her cells wanted to cringe at the contact but she was not about to give him that satisfaction.
"Do you know what I think?" he said quietly after breathing next to her for five seconds. "I think there's someone else out there, someone you're protecting..." He moved his head to her other side. "Am I right or am I right?"
She knew he wanted her to fear him but right now she was focused.
"It's only a matter of time—you know—before I find out..." He switched sides again. "Do you know, Snow Ghost, what I am capable of?"
"Yes," Selina said without blinking.
"Do you know—what I can do to people... Have done to people... and will do again—and again—for National Security?"
She could see the deliberate images in his mind, of victims being tortured—lacerated, hung, beaten, de-fingered—snapshots of recent targets and the malicious pleasure he gained from it. Such actions were unimaginable to her, ugly and horrific. She drew a breath and answered, "Yes."
"And how do you know this?" He waited long enough for her to answer, but she did not.
"I think you can read my mind." He pressed his face closer to her cheek. "And I'm prepared for all of your little ghost and mind tricks... Know this: I have a group of highly trained killers waiting for my command. As soon as I find out who or what you're hiding, they will get their orders. And their orders are simple: take it, take them—no matter what needs to be done..."
He walked around her to face her, drilling his gaze into her. "Understand: there are no – rules – of engagement here... There are no – civil – or constitutional – rights for you... Your – presence here is an invasion. America – is under threat of invasion and we – WILL – defend ourselves at whatever the cost."
Now Selina understood the full seriousness of the situation. This was what it all boiled down to. They were all a threat. "We are not invaders."
"Then what are you?"
"We are here – by accident."
"And who exactly are 'we'?" He waited a moment before stepping back to the table to load another syringe, this time from a third bottle.
Selina followed him with her gaze, getting her cells ready to defend herself from another invasion. "My self, and Blanc Aave. "
"Only two of you, huh? We'll see." He swung his chair around and straddled it like a horse, holding up the syringe in plain sight, smiling coldly. "Your ghost's little games with the power and playing with our instruments are over... How does that make you feel?"
How did it make her feel? She had no answer for that one, so she countered with a question. "How should I feel?" It was better than remaining silent.
"Hm. Are you capable of emotion?" He studied her, then said, "Let's see if we can't wipe that smug smile off your face." He got up and stepped next to her, waving the syringe in front of her face. "Let's see how you handle this one." He injected her in the same arm. "This is Amphetamine. It's one of my favorite cocktails..."
Selina closed her eyes as she put her defenses to work. It took a little more effort to eject the drug because she had already isolated those cells. She was also beginning to tire, having utilized a significant amount of energy to dry herself earlier.
"So where is this ghost of yours?" He did not wait for her reaction to the injection this time.
"Here."
"Why doesn't it come out to defend you?"
She expelled it, but the isolated cells in her arm were burning, distracting her. Splitting her focus was not as simple this time. She needed to be careful of what words she chose to speak. "We believe not in violence."
"Yet that ghost broke into this facility, disabled all of our instruments, terrorized our personnel, and corrupted our investigation," Apocalypse countered. "In my eyes, and the eyes of my employer, that makes you an aggressor. There's not much distance between passive aggression and violence." He bent close to her face, boring into her gaze. "And you know something? It said it was alone. But then you turn up... 'voluntarily' turning yourself in." He paused, his eyes narrowing, looking for the reaction in her eyes. "You – are – not – alone..."
Selina stared back, counting the seconds until she would need to take her next breath. She was not going to let the distraction make her waver.
"Are you going to answer me?"
She took the breath to answer, "That was not a question."
He chuckled humorlessly as he sat down. "You're so right... Then answer this: Who else is here from your planet?"
That was the correct question. She could not prevent her core temperature from rising a degree.
— ∞ —
Thanks to Echo4Echo for helping me build 'the interview'!
©2016/2017 by kemorgan65