15.
Kitamura secured his gas mask and took in the macabre scene inside the train tunnel. One black body bag after another was carried off. Anxiety welled inside him, threating to burst like a geyser.
"Lieutenant?" Colonel Jasper said, already on board the train.
Flashlight beams passed across the windows on the train car. Kitamura threw a last glance at the chopper, and then headed aboard the train.
No one spoke as they moved from one car to the next. There was nothing to say. Death was everywhere he turned. Arms and legs strewn akimbo on each corpse, eyes wide, staring into the darkness. Dried black fluid stained the seats and carpet. But it was a little girl that made Kitamura lose it. Her hands reached for her mother who had collapsed just out of reach. He knelt, lifting her wrist, and noticed her nails were painted blue with little white flowers. The nails were scratched and broken where she had clawed at the seat.
Kitamura hadn't planted the poison; he hadn't given the order, but it had been his plan and he'd burn eternally for it.
"Kitamura, down here," he heard in his headset. He didn't respond. He needed to breathe - to get the damn gasmask off before he blacked out.
"Lieutenant, respond," Colonel Jasper said from somewhere within the train.
Kitamura didn't trust himself to speak. Once clear of the tunnel and away from the body bags, he ripped off his mask and gasped in the night air. He sank to his knees, holding back the tears that would drown him if he let them flow. Rivers of sweat ran down his brow and beneath his uniform. At long last, he opened his eyes. Colonel Jasper stood before him.
Kitamura reached for his Lieutenant bars. "I'm sorry," he said. It was over for him.
"If I wanted your resignation, I'd ask for it. What I want is a solution. If not this, we keep trying," Colonel Jasper said. He took out his tin of chewing tobacco, grabbed a pinch and tucked it in the back of his gums. "Every battle has casualties, son. We're not at the end yet."
The Colonel turned to his soldiers. "Make it look like the train jumped the tracks and caught fire."
Kitamura's voice felt like grinding sandpaper in his throat. "What was it all for?"
Jasper grabbed Kitamura's arm and lifted him to his feet like he were nothing more than a stuffed animal. "What it's always for – saving more lives than we lose. We're still here. Let's find another way."
They walked along the tracks. From the beginning Kitamura had wanted to try another way, now he finally had his chance. But how could he salvage the damage that had unfolded here? The variable that mattered most was whether the teens were being coerced in whatever their objective might be.
"You're an advanced civilization," Jasper said, trying to reason through the same puzzle. "You send a ship to earth to contact someone. Why them?"
"Maybe that's not why they came," Kitamura said. He could still feel the indentations from the gas mask straps on his flesh. "They flew a long way for the limited message they sent."
Jasper continued in the same train of thought. "The ship may have only just revealed itself because it's no longer concerned about concealment. Whatever the intent, the time's come. Sequencing Complete."
"Exactly," Kitamura said. "The need for secrecy's passed. For all we know the ship's been there for years, just waiting for an event ... like the gathering of the four, for them to reach a certain age or developmental stage. That could be the Sequencing Complete element of all this," Kitamura said. "What if they're just a test run for what's coming?" If that were so, things were far worse than he imagined.
"Let's think of it a different way. The satellite's transmitting to them when they're on the run. Unless they're carrying some massive equipment, how are they getting the signal?" Jasper asked.
Kitamura weighed the logistics. Mankind was not capable of something like that, but an advanced civilization – who knew what their limitations were? "They'd have to implant some sort of receiver either after birth or in the embryonic stage."
The complexity of the mechanics staggered the mind. Kitamura knew enough about engineering to piece together how it worked. The ship must have an optical transmitter that converted electricity to light radiation signals. Those infrared signals contained the message. Whoever received the transmission must have built in avalanche photodiodes to convert the light back to electricity and decode the message. Perhaps it was through the photoreceptors in their eyes and the messages were converted in the optic nerve. He started to share this excitedly with Jasper, but found himself quickly cut off.
"I'm less concerned with the mechanics. How do I use it?" Jasper said.
"Think about this - Max never made any effort to conceal himself. If anything, his suicide attempt was like a flare in the darkness. Getting found wasn't a worry." Despite the tragedy all around him, Kitamura couldn't help but feel hopeful that things could be done differently now. "What if Max isn't the same as the others and he's just begun to, I don't know what to call it, turn on? Maybe he's not really one of them – not yet anyway. We might have an ally in him."
"Course we did try to kill him and his companions," Jasper said, spitting in the dirt. "He might have some doubts about us after that."
The waters had been muddied. They needed to figure out how to appeal to Max, assuming they could reach him at all. Kitamura raced back to the helicopter and brought his laptop to life. Glancing through the satellite communication patterns, he saw the transmissions were sent on the same frequency each time. He shared this excitedly with Jasper. "If the ship transmits to Max's wavelength, we might be able to replicate the signal frequency and send a message of our own, assuming we know it's his and not one of the others."
Something close to a smile broke through Jasper's expression. "Good to have you back, Rudy," Jasper said, climbing on board the chopper.
*
The Arizona desert came alive at night. Lizards scurried, cicadas played their song, and bats fluttered overhead emitting high-pitched squeaks. But there wasn't a hint of flora. Not even sagebrush grew on this part of the mountain. The rocky, cragged landscape was as bleak as anything Max had ever seen.
All of that faded in the background as the trio stood atop the mountain looking out on the remote scientific compound in the valley. Somewhere within that complex was the device that would let them live – those who made it that far. Max looked back at Noah, who lay shivering beneath their jackets despite the second dose.
Vincent went over to Noah and laid his hand on his shoulder. For a moment, Noah's eyes cleared, and he gripped Vincent's hand in his own clammy palm. "It's time to bring Max in," Vincent said.
"Good, I didn't want to miss this," Noah answered, propping himself up as best he could on the rock.
Jamie moved over and knelt beside Noah, giving him a shoulder to lean on to watch whatever was about to happen.
Wind swirled around them as Vincent approached Max. "There's nothing more I can do," Max said, feeling completely useless and knowing there was no way he'd convince them to bring Noah in. He'd tried once more on the van ride and Noah had awoken just long enough to tell Max to drop it go before falling back into his fevered sleep.
"It's how he wants it," Vincent said, putting a hand on Max's shoulder. "How we all would, even you, knowing everything you do. Don't torture yourself – I need you focused now."
As the wind died away, Vincent reached in his jacket and pulled out the case. Soon the glass canister was in his hand. The red liquid pulsed, as if aware the four were gathered and the time to awaken had arrived.
"What are we doing?"
"I don't need to be a mind-reader to know you have doubts. We all do - but not in each other. We're all we have in a world bent on our destruction. We're just trying to survive. And this," Vincent eyed the glass reverentially, "is how we'll do so."
These three were the only family he had. He'd do whatever he needed to do. Maybe this, whatever it was, could help Noah in some small way.
"We've played our part in initiating the release. Yours is the last key to unlock what lies within," Vincent extended the glass.
"Don't let me down," Noah called before a coughing fit gripped him.
Max took the canister. He felt connected to the pulsing liquid – he could sense the essence of the other three swirling through it. Maybe that was why it felt so familiar.
"Each of us represents an element of our home world. Noah accelerates particles. Picture that on a grand scale. Jamie influences neural patterns. Imagine how knowledge could be transferred around the world that way."
"You want to control thoughts?"
"Perhaps our ancestors were philosophers and teachers. It's just a means of passing on knowledge. Now, the only piece missing from the puzzle is you. You reign over the most powerful ability of all - the particles of life," Vincent said.
"You left yourself out of the grand design."
"I'm insignificant. Think of me as Darwin. My purpose is to make sure the strong survive. You're the one that really matters. Time to embrace your origin."
"What am I supposed to do?" Max asked, staring dumbly at the glass.
"You're holding the essence of our old world. It's all we have of them. Connect with that and you save us all," Vincent said, as if that were sufficient guidance.
Max looked past Vincent to Noah's sunken form. His friend was dying before his eyes. Ignoring the liquid in his hand, he went over to Noah. "Please let me get help. Even living in a cage is better than this."
Despite his pain, Noah managed a smile. "Quit stalling, runt. Make me proud."
Max studied the liquid, but his mind stayed on the train, on his fear of the dangers still lurking in the shadows, on how they were dying as much as Noah and maybe just as quickly.
The liquid cooled, pulsing slowed as if it realized there was little reason to expend energy in his hands. "Maybe I'm not who you think I am," he said, fearing if that were true, their chance of a future was lost.
'Why did you try to kill yourself?'
Jamie's words echoed in his head. She didn't want Vincent to hear. Max shook his head, unable to reciprocate telekinetic thoughts.
'I'll know your thoughts if you let me see. Why?'
He played over the visions of the fire, the screams, and anguish. Most of all, the overwhelming emotional toll seeing a world's end took on him.
Jamie gave the faintest nod. 'You were suffering and you didn't understand what you saw. So you wanted to end the pain. But if you want to live, if you want us to live, you have to let that terror back in – you have to accept your other half.'
Fierce winds whipped down the mountain. Max pulled his jacket close, knowing it wasn't the chill that made him shiver. He might have the same DNA structure as the others, but they were something very different. The great and powerful Eye, it turns out, was fallible after all. While the others had learned to balance their dual nature, Max was rooted to one side - terrified of losing his humanity and of what he'd find in his other half.
Then he looked back at Jamie, and saw nothing but hope in her eyes. Was there anything more human than hope? Time to wake up.
Max opened the canister and held the swirling red liquid up to the dark sky. The walls of resistance fell away as his mind revisited the vision that nearly killed him not so long ago. The red liquid roiled. A hint of fire reflected in the dark alien sky he'd seen so many times in his visions. His hands trembled, but he kept his gaze on the glass. The sky exploded in a maelstrom of fire.
The red tempest grew until it covered everything in sight. A smaller storm took form within the larger one. Within that, millions of red particles furiously bounced off each other. The movement seemed random and chaotic, a never-ending series of particle collisions. But as he pushed closer, they took on a new clarity. Patterns emerged; he intuitively understood how each molecule reacted to its counterparts. Soon, Max could predict their paths in relation to the others. The meaning within the mystery had been revealed.
Max slowed the frenzy, taking control of it. Atthe same time, he moved a single particle toward the opening of the glass case.Once free, it pulsed and flashed wildly. The particle grew at a furious pace.It formed a fiery sphere, a red sun threatening to engulf him. But this time hecontained that sun and pushed it farther into the dark sky. When he couldfinally see around him, he was in the city of ashes. Once towering spindles laycollapsed in clouds of ash and smoke. He was the last witness to a greatcivilization's end - and the last chance that they might live on.