The Rebirths of Tao Read online

  “I mean I can show you after lunch. Maybe we can spar a bit.”

  “I would like that,” she said.

  The two got off the living room floor and moved their conversation to the kitchen. Jill, Rin, Ohr, and Vladimir were already there. His mom was setting out a plate of meatloaf and potatoes while Ohr and Rin were setting the plates.

  Pull the chair out for her.

  Tao flashed an image of a Victorian formal dinner party. He pulled out a gold trimmed chair for a lady wearing a funny white wig and made a grandiose gesture to her. She flashed him a smile and sat down.

  Cameron dutifully complied and tried to imitate that same gesture. He caught his mom looking at him funny and he blushed. He waited until Alex sat down before he took the seat across from her.

  Good. I think this is a good time to teach you a new game. It is called how to act like a gentleman and impress the girl…

  11

  Two Peas in a Pod

  Timestamp: 2666

  Let me tell you, if you ever have to stay at a hospital for an extended period of time, the Queen’s Hospital in Honolulu comes highly recommended. Sure, the food sucks; the best thing there was the jello, but there’s something about perpetually sunny days that’s good for one’s health.

  The very best part of my stay, though, was the time I spent with my family. Jill and Cameron were with me every day. After being separated for so long, we had a lot of catching up to do. I can honestly say that it was the happiest time of my life, all things considered. I did break nineteen bones in my body, after all.

  * * *

  The first six hours of the drive from the safe house in northern California to the fringes of eastern Oregon was downright pleasant, mostly because Marco was driving, and Roen had fallen asleep as soon as the farmhouse was out of sight. There was an unspoken rule somewhere about people riding shotgun having to keep the driver company, but Roen was a trained agent, and he slept every chance he got.

  After all, who knew when the next time he could get a solid block of rest in would come? It was one of the first tenets that Tao had hammered into him. Rest whenever you can, be ready to wake at a moment’s notice, and never fall asleep on the job.

  Early during their partnership, it had taken Tao a tremendous amount of effort to wake a slumbering Roen. Once Roen embraced his life as a Prophus agent, Tao was his constant alarm clock. These days, he had perfected the art of sleeping lightly. Somehow, whenever he needed to wake up, a phantom Tao would yell at him to wake up just like in the old days.

  At around the six-hour mark, Marco nudged him awake and they traded places. Roen took the wheel while Marco settled into the passenger seat and promptly returned the favor. Except this time, the Brit snored. Loudly.

  Roen preferred a snoring Marco to a talking one anyway. For him, chatting with the guy ranked somewhere between his yearly checkups with his proctologist and having a guys’ night out with Louis, Jill’s dad. Though the old man had sort of forgiven him by now, he still took a sick satisfaction in torturing Roen, usually with a combination of bourbon and not-so-subtle insults.

  Still, by the fourth hour of his shift, the drive was getting old, and as much as he’d hate to admit it, a little company would have been nice to keep him alert along these long winding mountain roads. He welcomed hearing another person’s voice when Marco woke up around the fifth hour. That welcome respite lasted a whole five minutes into their conversation.

  “Before we begin,” Marco said, “let’s get a few things straight. We don’t want a repeat of Egypt, right? We didn’t have a defined chain of command last time. This time we do. Are we in agreement?”

  Let it go. Just let it go.

  Tao’s voice repeated itself over and over in his head. Roen felt his guts twist into pretzels but held his tongue. Marco had a point, and this time, the chain of command was very clear. All hosts outranked non-hosts. The Prophus command structure was set in such a way that all hosts automatically were ranked at the Commander tier and had the ability to take control of any operation at any time, regardless of their capacity. The reason was that most Quasing were privy to more classified information.

  Roen was in the unique situation of being the world’s only ex-host, but there were several consequences to that. Even when he had operated as a rogue, he had had the authority as a host to leverage Prophus resources. Now no longer a host, coupled with the fact that most of Command – the Keeper most of all – hated his guts, he was effectively the lowest of the low. In fact, he was pretty sure the Keeper had created a new sub-rank just for him. Stephen was the only guy high up in Command who had ever championed him. Now with him gone to the Eternal Sea and Camr missing somewhere in Tibet, Roen had no one backing him up.

  In fact, if it hadn’t been for Jill, he was pretty sure they’d have just kicked him out of the organization altogether, which to be honest would have suited him fine if it hadn’t been for the fact that the rest of his family were chest-deep in Prophus operations. Well, that, and he honestly didn’t possess any other skills to make a living these days. After all, there weren’t many job opportunities for secret agents, and he sucked at his previous career.

  “You got it… sir,” he said, trying to appear as un-sullen as possible. After all, why give Marco the satisfaction?

  “Excellent,” Marco continued. “Now, because of your history as an ex-host, you’re my second.”

  Roen grunted an affirmative. To be honest, this was a little better than what he thought Marco would do. “All right, what’s our objective? I’m still in the dark on what’s going on.”

  “First things first.” Marco ticked off on one finger. “We bust our scout team friends out of the jam they’re in. The host commander is in a serious condition. Ines stabilizes him and we move him to safety.”

  Roen nodded. “Sounds easy enough. And?”

  “That’s just the warm-up,” said Marco. “The bean counters have been tracking various raw materials being shipped by the Genjix to this region. We think they’re building a base or a manufacturing facility here. It’s our job to help the scout team finish the job. Then we send the information to Command and let them decide what the next action items are.”

  “Sounds fairly cut-and-dry. We can swing in, show those amateurs how two pros do it, and be back in the morning for more of Jill’s pancakes.”

  Marco nodded. “I appreciate your optimism, old boy.”

  “Who is the injured host?”

  “Prie and his Quasing Pri.”

  “Prie and Pri?”

  “He had it changed legally when he became a host. He’s French and very much in love with his Quasing.”

  Roen made a face. The presence of hosts on this operation definitely complicated matters. However, most missions involving the Genjix required at least one host to identify other Quasing.

  A small yellow light a little ways up the mountain caught his attention. “What’s that?” Roen asked. He realized what it was as it became a bright streak shooting toward them. He punched the acceleration and swerved the car, but it was too late. The ground behind them exploded into a column of flames. Roen lost control of the steering, and gravity abandoned them. Then it came right back as the car crashed onto its side and rolled down the hill.

  Fortunately for Roen, this wasn’t his first rolling car. Tao was with him the first two times, and he had learned, albeit the hard way, how to handle the chaotic impact. He hugged the steering wheel tightly and closed his eyes. The car felt like it was bouncing forever, but it finally came to a stop after crashing down a line of trees on its side.

  It took a few seconds for his brain to reboot his bodily functions. He groaned as he moved his arms and wiggled his toes. Nothing seemed broken. He opened his eyes and looked over at Marco, who was hanging limp above him. Was the guy dead?

  “Oh no.” The thought of Ahngr occupying him gave Roen the chills. He whacked the guy in the chest. “Dude, wake up. You better not be giving me –”

  Marco groaned
and opened his eyes. He looked down at Roen. “We’re alive? Brilliant.” He twisted his head back at Ines and Hurley sitting in the back. “You guys all right back there?”

  He was rewarded with a soft affirmative.

  “No time,” Roen said, unfastening his seat belt. He climbed out the driver’s side window, barely squeezing his frame through the opening. He grabbed tufts of grass and pulled himself out of the car until his legs were clear. He moaned as several parts of his body complained about moving so soon after an accident. For a second, he considered giving his body a rest.

  You are in danger. Keep moving.

  Tao’s phantom voice echoed in his head. Roen looked up the hill and saw several shadows against the moon’s backdrop move toward them. He drew his pistol and looked over at Marco, who was still struggling to get out of his seat belt.

  “Stay behind cover. You have company coming,” he said, retreating into the thickets.

  “Where are you going?” Marco hissed, still working his way out of the window.

  “Don’t die,” Roen called back and, keeping his head down, rushed into the brush.

  “Thanks a lot, arsehole!” Marco shot back.

  Roen crawled ten meters into the thick foliage, cut a hard left and doubled back toward the road. The sounds of gunfire erupted, sharp banging noises from Marco’s pistol and the more rapid tick-tick sounds from their assailants’ automatic rifles. Roen hoped the guy could hold out for a little while longer.

  He reappeared out of the woods thirty meters from the crash. Hiding behind a large tree, he glanced over the top of a branch and assessed the enemy’s strength: three, no, eight spreading out to flank the car. Roen set his sights on four of them, moving through the rotation a few times. Then he exhaled and unloaded five shots, two of which found their marks. He was able to take down another before he had to duck behind cover.

  The branches shuddered as a stream of automatic fire tore into them. He felt the heavy thud of bullets as they punched into the tree’s trunk. Then he heard pistol fire again. Well, at least one of his people was still alive.

  Roen turned to the other side of the tree, but was rebuked by a stream of gunfire. They had him sighted. Grimacing, he flattened to the ground and dragged himself to the adjacent tree. He shot off another grouping and took down one more of the assailants, and then he was out of bullets. Roen reached down to his side and realized he wasn’t carrying spare magazines on him. He smacked his forehead.

  Duffel bag front pocket.

  That left one thing to do. As much as he hated Marco, there was no way Roen was going to leave his guys to take on a group of heavily-armed men just because he was out of bullets. Roen picked up a baseball-sized rock, moved a bit further down the tree line, and sprinted up the bluff, scrambling against the steep incline and loose soil. Over seventy meters from the enemies, it was dark enough and he was far enough away that he was a difficult moving target to hit with an automatic rifle. Hopefully, he could draw some heat away from those guys in the car without getting shot. Then he remembered he wasn’t wearing any armor.

  “Crap,” he muttered as dirt kicked up nearby. He reached the top of the hill and dove onto the road as more gunfire trailed after him. Peeking over the edge, he saw one of the enemy giving chase. Well, that was one less attacking his teammates. He hoped Hurley and Ines were all right.

  The exchanges continued below as Roen lay in wait for the guy scrambling up the hill. Just as his head came into view, Roen lunged forward and tackled him. Together they rolled back down the bluff, the guy struggling to push Roen off so he could get a shot off, and Roen desperately trying to keep the rifle muzzle away from his chest.

  They were halfway down the slope when Roen found himself on top. He swung the rock in his hand at the man’s night-vision visor, once to knock it off his face, and then two more times against his skull. The guy stopped moving. He wasn’t surprised when no Quasing left the man’s body. The Genjix didn’t assign Quasing to scrub missions. Even if it had been a host, though, Roen didn’t care. Most Quasing would only move into an enemy’s body as a last resort. Joining with someone from the opposite faction was practically suicide.

  Gasping for air, Roen pulled the body up in front of him as more bullets flew at him. He grabbed the assault rifle, noting its strange make and model, and then returned fire. After his magazine ran out, he dug through the man’s pockets to find more magazines, and then continued to pick off the shadows one by one. The battle seemed to go on forever, until finally there was a lull, the echo of the last round hanging in the air.

  “Roen,” Marco’s voice pierced the calm. “You alive, old boy?”

  “I think so.” Roen peered over the bullet-riddled body he was using as cover and watched as Marco came out from behind the car and checked the bodies. He scampered to his feet and made his way back down the slope.

  Marco was checking the Oldsmobile when he got down there. He looked over at Roen and shook his head. “Hurley died in the crash, and Ines took one in the chest during the exchange.”

  Roen slammed the rifle on the ground. “Damn it!”

  He had feared that one of his people might not make it out of this ambush alive, but losing both hurt. Badly. It had been years since he had lost an agent, and it still tore at him just as much as the first time.

  “Come on,” Marco said. “We have to get going. How far are we from town?”

  “Five, maybe ten klicks. By the way…” Roen picked up the rifle again and tossed it to Marco, who flipped it over and studied the markings. “Chinese CS variants. Interpol in the US uses M variants.”

  Marco grimaced. “Genjix, and they knew we were coming. We have a leak somewhere.”

  Roen’s blood froze at those words. Jill and Cameron’s well-being immediately came to mind. All it would take is one dropped word or a giveaway, and they could have the IXTF or the Genjix at their door. Images of the IXTF hauling Jill away and putting Cameron in… where do they take host children? It wouldn’t be juvenile detention, would it? Certainly not the black ops alien containment prisons that were rumored to be all over the country. He was only a kid! Roen’s hands balled into fists.

  Marco gestured at the bodies. “Come on, grab our gear and get our friends out. I want them buried by dawn. We’ve got a bit of walking to do. I want to be in town by first light. Let’s move.”

  12

  Federal Assembly

  From the Persian Empire, the cradle of civilization, I moved west to Greece through a satrap, a Persian governor. It was my vessel who negotiated the alliance with Sparta, shifting the balance of the war from Athens to the Peloponnesian League and escalating the conflict. It was also there that my satrap vessel was assassinated for being a Persian spy.

  I stayed in the region for nearly five hundred years, studying human philosophy, culture, and government until a new opportunity arose. I moved further west and joined with several other Quasing as they began to expand their influence from a new empire based in Rome.

  Zoras

  * * *

  “Finland can get quite cold,” Vitaliy Laminick mused as Enzo laid out his offer. “And you only offer me the northernmost province. Lapland feels…” he held his hands out in a shrug, “…not enticing. Beautiful, yes, but lacking in useful resources, and I already experience enough harsh winters here in Russia.”

  Enzo personally adored Finland and thought the land not only beautiful, but its residents easy to manage. However, when it came to its climate, the country did tend toward the cooler end of the scale.

  However, Vitaliy, though on the Federation Council, was not one of the more prominent members in the upper house, and Enzo would be damned if he was going to offer him prized real estate near the Mediterranean. Those parcels were reserved for important people. Besides, Lapland was a relatively large territory. Who did this human think he was?

  Dangle the carrot. Vitaliy carries six, but has some influence over a larger caucus. Possibly twenty. That would be significant.


  “There is some flexibility, Councilor.” Enzo leaned back, legs crossed as he drank his tea. “However, I am told you can bring six votes. Show me you can bring me more, and I can definitely see opportunities for… an upgrade.”

  Vitaliy stiffened. “One vote or six or fifty. I am a member of the upper house.”

  Massage his ego a little harder, but offer a threat.

  Enzo wiped his hands and stood up. “You are an important man, Mr Laminick, but you are an important man among many hundreds of important men. Your support will be appreciated and rewarded, but know that there are others who would gladly take your place and reap the rewards I offer. Think it over.” Enzo stood up. Just like that, the meeting was over. Vitaliy looked like he was about to protest, hoping to finagle a final concession, then, reluctantly, he stood up as well.

  When the councilor left the room, Enzo allowed his body to slump a little. This was draining. He had spent the entire day speaking with over two dozen members from both houses of the Federal Assembly. These small, near-sighted men wanted small things for their support: money, land, positions. Most, Enzo was happy to offer, though he had to be careful about how much he conceded.

  Once Quasiform was in play, these small materialistic desires would be worthless. However, he needed their support first, and he certainly could not offer them all the same thing. If they were ever to compare notes, his takeover of Russia would fall over like a house of cards. If one got the scent of what another was offered, it could throw the entire negotiations into disarray. In truth, it didn’t matter what any of these fools received in the end. So, as painful as it was for him, he would have to play these silly games. For now.

  “Is there anyone else?”

  Azumi looked down at her notes. “You had three cancellations. Tachkin from illness, but Polanski and Maximov abruptly at the last minute. I think Vinnick may have gotten to them first. I will check my sources and confirm.”