The Rebirths of Tao Read online

  Another ping, this time from the west. The federal with the scanner fell.

  “Drop your weapons,” a voice called out from the forest, “and the rest of you can live.”

  The surviving four federals swiveled in all directions, trying to determine where the shots were coming from. Finally, one of them dropped his gun and held his hands up. Two others, after a second, followed suit. All eyes were on the remaining armed federal, the one with the bullhorn, as he considered his options. There was a soft ping from the forest and the dirt between his feet kicked up. He finally followed suit and dropped his rifle.

  “Always a guy in the bunch a little slower than the others, almost ruining it for everyone else,” a figure said, stepping out of the woods. He was dressed in camouflage and a hoodie, and carried a small assault rifle. He walked into the clearing, gun still trained on the four remaining federals.

  Vladimir studied their savior. The man didn’t look or sound familiar, at least not by the descriptions from their contact’s dossier, considering their contact was supposed to be a woman. Most of his face was covered with a pair of dark brown aviator sunglasses and a scraggly beard, and the rest of his head was hidden by a skullcap.

  “On your knees, folks.” He squinted at the leader who had carried the bullhorn, who squinted back. “You know me, Boy Scout?” he said finally.

  The now de-bullhorned agent scowled. “Yeah, you’re a ghost.”

  “Not just a ghost. The Ghost.” The man grabbed the comm from the agent’s shoulder and lifted it to his mouth. “Hello. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?”

  “Special Agent Kallis of the Interpol Extraterrestrial Task Force. Who the fuck is this?” the voice snapped.

  “It’s your favorite human traitor.”

  “Rayban Ghost? You bastard. What have you done with my men?”

  “They’re fine. How are you? How is the family?”

  “Well, you shot my guys, so pretty damn terrible right now. And how many times do I have to tell you to never bring up my family?”

  “Well, I used the electric tranqs on the guys I hit. They should be fine. You still got some live ones here, and they’ll stay that way if you follow my demands. There’s six North Korean Nationals at Guantanamo I need released within the hour. I also need fifty million dollars wired to a Swiss account.”

  “You know I can’t do that.”

  “Okay, how about we compromise and you just donate four thousand bucks, a thousand for each of your surviving men, to the Eureka Animal Shelter. Then we’ll call it square.” He looked over at the kneeling federals. “Maybe one-point-five for that big guy over there.”

  “You better watch your back, Rayban Ghost. I’ll get you one day.”

  “And my little dog too?” the Ghost grinned, clearly enjoying this exchange. “Like you said, no one else has to get hurt.” The Ghost turned to the men in front of him. “Face down with your hands behind your back. You know the drill. I got half a dozen others in the forest who I had to convince to not blow your brains out and toss your bodies into vats of acid.”

  A few minutes later, the federals made a neat little line of trussed-up bodies as they squirmed face down in the dirt. The Rayban Ghost took the time to tie up the unconscious ones as well. Vladimir wondered why the man was using non-lethal force. Satisfied with his work, the Ghost spoke into his own throat mic and then signaled for Vladimir and his group to stand and follow him.

  “Thank you, uh, Rayban Ghost,” Vladimir said as the stranger hauled him and his group to their feet. Unfortunately, their skin did not touch through the thick layers of clothing, though by now, he was pretty sure this man wasn’t a vessel.

  “Hey, what about us?” the de-bullhorned agent shouted. “You can’t leave us here. We’ll die like this! Why even bother sparing our lives then?”

  “Rayban Ghost, we had a deal,” Kallis’s voice shouted over the comm.

  The Ghost picked up the receiver. “You’ll get your men back. I told you before, Kallis. We’re the good guys. I’ll call a forest ranger for them later on.” Then he tore the comm unit from its cord. He turned and gestured to Vladimir’s group. “Shall we?”

  The Ghost marched them fifteen minutes deeper south into the forest. When he was satisfied they were far enough away from the federals, he called for a stop and studied the group.

  “Thank you, brother,” Vladimir said.

  “Authenticate yourself.”

  “To advance without the possibility being checked…” Vladimir began saying.

  The passphrase died in his mouth when the Rayban Ghost cut him off. “Shut it, Genjix. I don’t care about that.”

  Then Vladimir realized who had saved them. At this point, he wasn’t sure if they were better off being prisoners of the Interpol Extraterrestrial Task Force than with this man. At least with the IXTF, his people had a chance of being released by their people on the inside. With the Prophus, he expected nothing more than a quick death as soon as they got whatever they wanted out of him.

  “I want names; you and your Quasing’s,” the Ghost said. “Full names and origins. Now.”

  Both Ohr and Rin looked to Vladimir for direction. He shook his head and spoke in a clear and loud voice. “Vladimir Mengsk. Ladm. I am a businessman from Moscow, and this is…”

  “I can speak for myself, Papa,” Alex said. She took a step forward and lifted her chin. “Alexandra Mengsk. My job is to be my papa’s daughter, betrayer.” She jutted her chin out at the Ghost as a challenge.

  Vladimir stiffened as the Ghost approached his daughter and dropped to a knee. “Feisty little one, eh? And what’s your Quasing’s name, Alexandra Mengsk, Papa’s daughter?”

  Alex shook her head, refusing to speak. The Ghost looked up at Vladimir.

  “It’s all right,” Vladimir said. “Go ahead and tell our friend here.”

  “Tabs,” the name came out of her reluctantly.

  The Ghost smiled. “Thank you, child. I hope she guides you well.” He stood up. “What about the rest of you?”

  Petr, unsurprisingly, refused to divulge any information. The colonel clamped down and looked away, refusing even to acknowledge the Rayban Ghost’s existence.

  The Ghost sighed. “Like I said, always someone screwing it up for everyone.” He grabbed Petr by the shoulder and kneed him in the stomach, doubling him over. The Ghost knocked him to the ground and drew his pistol, jamming it into his forehead. He looked over at Rin. “His name and Quasing. Now.”

  “Petr. Coruv,” she said reluctantly, eyes down on the ground.

  Petr glared. “Weak runt.”

  His name must have meant something to the Rayban Ghost, who took a renewed interest in Petr. “Coruv. Russian by your accent.” He looked down and saw the bayonet holster on each side of Petr’s boots. “You’re one of Vinnick’s dogs?”

  “What’s it to you, betrayer?” Petr snarled.

  “There’s little I can do with a rabid animal.” The Ghost took off his aviator sunglasses. “The Russians killed thirty Prophus refugees escaping the Chinese Inquisition two years ago. I had some friends there.”

  “I took great pleasure partaking –” Petr said.

  “My name is Roen Tan, you mass-murdering asshole.”

  “You! You and your bitch were the ones that betrayed us to the humans!” Petr lunged at him and collapsed from a single gunshot through the chest. His sparkling Quasing rose from his body and fluttered about as if a wisp among these giant trees.

  “Get out of here, Coruv, and consider yourself lucky I don’t have a flamethrower on me.” Roen Tan turned and faced the rest of the group. “Anyone else want to release their Quasing? I’ll be more than happy to oblige.” He stared each of them down before finally adding. “Here’s the deal. I can kill you now so your Quasing can find a host among the redwoods for a few centuries, or you can cooperate and come with me. Oh, by the way, if you were expecting your contact, sorry, but I think her Quasing is now living the good life in an anteater. What wi
ll it be?”

  The small group exchanged looks, and the rest of them looked to Vladimir. He stepped forward. “We will cooperate, Prophus.”

  “Good.” Roen gestured to Ohr. “Authenticate yourself.”

  “Excuse me, Mr Uh…The Ghost,” Rin asked. “Why don’t you just use the vessel the Penetra scanner had detected earlier? He can just identify us through touch instead of going through this charade.”

  Roen Tan shook his head. “I had to send him off ahead. His mom’s going to kill us. He’s already late for school.”

  2

  Domesticated

  The Prophus, and I am sure the Genjix as well, had watched the Senate hearings very closely. Senators Mary Thompson and James Wilks, along with Haewon, Mary’s Quasing, were interrogated, prodded, and tested extensively by the Military, CIA, FBI, and every other branch of the government.

  In the end, three months following the Great Betrayal, the Extraterrestrial Sedition Act was passed. That marked the beginning of a new era on Earth. The governments of the world, one by one, began to recognize the existence of aliens. The game had changed for everyone.

  Baji

  * * *

  Jill Tesser Tan used to hate cooking. The truth was she never learned how to cook growing up, because both her parents were too busy with their careers to ever step foot in the kitchen, other than to heat up the occasional late-night carryout. Unlike for most families, their kitchen was the least-used room in their home.

  Now, in her forties, Jill had finally discovered the joys of making food from scratch. That was fortunate, because now, she had a kitchen in her quaint farmhouse that was about as big as her entire condo in Manhattan growing up, and she loved it. Over the past few years, she had found comfort in the constant warmth of their working brick oven and the aroma of home-cooked food wafting throughout the entire house. This kitchen was the heart of her home and the place where she conducted all her business.

  She adjusted her headset as she mixed a batch of pancake batter. “I don’t care if it takes three hours. I want a full count before we exchange the currency. No more weights, since he shorted us 30k last time, and damn it, Hite, make sure that rate is three quarters. If Moyan flubs it again, you tell him we’ll wash it elsewhere in the future.”

  Moyan will know you are bluffing. There is no one within a thousand kilometers who can move this much volume.

  “On second thought, don’t tell him that. Just frigging count the money.”

  Jill switched over to the second channel as she turned the stove on and sprayed oil onto the griddle. The perimeter alert on the map of her property began to blink orange. Jill looked through the kitchen window and saw an armed figure emerge from the thickets. She stared at the orange light until it turned green, and then went back to working on her pancake batter.

  She switched over to the next channel. “Kate? Oh sorry, Harry. Ping me when you receive an update on the registry. We need to get the Patels working during the trip, so make sure they have upgraded accommodations.” She switched again. “Kate? Good. When you meet with the Hillmans, see if they have a couple extra cases of .45 bullets. Untraceable, of course. And some incendiaries. Preferably nothing older than the Korean War this time, please.”

  “Hi, Mom.” Cameron Tan, wearing a ghillie suit with a SCAR rifle slung around his back, waved as he walked through the kitchen doorway. He had wiped his feet before he walked in, but the rest of him looked like he had just come out the losing end of a mud-wrestling contest. She waved back, instinctively checking for any signs of injuries as he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek.

  Jill took one sniff and shooed him away. “Go take a shower. You’ve already missed the bus, and you smell like you waded through sewage.” She paused. “Did you and your father go…?”

  He shook his head. “No, we did not go dumpster diving again.”

  Jill grinned at her gangly teenager. Cameron had floppy hair that she disapproved of because it covered half his face, which was a spitting image of Roen. His skin was dark from the many hours he spent outdoors every day. He was going through his growth spurt right now and at fifteen, much to the chagrin of his father, he was already the tallest member in the family. The perfectly fitting long-sleeve shirts, sweaters, and pants she had bought him just last winter were already showing too much ankle and wrist. She also noticed during their many sparring sessions that he had gotten noticeably stronger as well, whether from puberty or because the t’ai chi was finally clicking. She’d have to watch out for that; pretty soon, they wouldn’t be able to spar anymore, and strangely, that made her a little sad.

  She shooed him toward the stairs. “I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’re not stinking up the joint.” She held up a finger and turned away. “Comm Ops. What do you mean they can’t support the Patels? There’s a very specific reason we paid for board on a research vessel. It’s a damn waste of money otherwise. Tell them we want our money back then. No, screw them. Get a refund or I will peel it from their hides.”

  Jill continued running Prophus operations for the entire Pacific Northwest while she poured the first batch of pancakes over the hot griddle. As she spoke, she noticed that Cameron had not moved. She clicked on the mute and looked at him. “Is there something else?”

  “Mom,” he said. “Dad’s on his way back. He’s radio dark, but wants you to know he’s bringing a group of Genjix in.”

  She nodded. “Got it. Tell Ines to have the quarters in the dungeon prepared. The ones with the external locks, please.” Cameron still looked like he had something else on his mind. “What is it?”

  “There’s a girl with them. My age. Kind of. I think…” he paused. “I think she’s a host.”

  That gave Jill pause. She saw the confusion in his eyes and the hesitation when he spoke. God, she hoped the girl wasn’t cute. As a mother, she just wasn’t ready for that yet. If this girl was a host and attractive, his fifteen year-old brain might explode.

  Your worst fears realized?

  “Up there with Roen grocery shopping carte blanche without a list.”

  Jill pointed at the stairs. “Shower. Now.” She watched as her son slung the rifle off his shoulder and put it in the weapons closet, and then scampered up the stairs. This was probably the worst time for a host girl to come into his life, especially a Genjix.

  Trust me, we hate humans going through puberty too.

  Cameron was a good son; his three parents saw to that. Between Roen and her putting all their energy into him and Tao’s constant mentoring, he had little choice but to grow up the way they molded him. However, due to their special circumstances, he also had a worryingly unusual childhood, and hadn’t grown up with many children his age.

  They had had to pull him out of the second grade when the new administration ordered the IXTF to sweep all of the schools in the Washington DC area with Penetra scanners during the government purge. He spent most of his childhood either constantly on the move with Roen and Jill, or living with her parents in San Diego, only finally returning home after Jill’s operation in the Pacific Northwest was up and running. Even with Tao to guide and keep him company, it had been a very lonely childhood.

  The family had settled down on the outskirts of Eureka, California, four years ago, and this was the longest they had stayed in one place since the Great Betrayal, when humanity had learned about the Quasing. Now, Jill was responsible for Prophus operations from Vancouver down to San Francisco. Her job was especially critical, since the Quasing Underground Railroad ran directly through this region.

  The tension between the Eastern and Western hemisphere had been ramping up for years, with diplomats on both sides predicting the breakout of World War III soon. The extensive naval blockades on both sides made transportation by ship dangerous. Traveling by plane was near-impossible, since there were Penetra scanners at every airport.

  That left the thin stretch of ocean between Siberia and Alaska the safest option for refugees fleeing Asia. The overland path across
the Bering Strait, through the North American continent toward safe havens in South America was one of the most trafficked and dangerous routes for the thousands fleeing Genjix domination in Asia. Interestingly, the refugees fleeing the continent were nearly equal parts Prophus and Genjix.

  The Council Power Struggle had taken a toll on many Quasing and their hosts. For over half a century, Vinnick with Flua, and Devin with Zoras, had been the most powerful on the Genjix Council. Ever since the upstart Enzo succeeded Devin and became the leader of China, Enzo and Vinnick had waged open conflict, now known as the Genjix Power Struggle, that had spilled over across many other regions.

  In recent years, the United States had tightened their borders, and the job of smuggling Quasing refugees had become more dangerous. These days, Jill half-expected the IXTF to burst into her farmhouse at any time. Couple that with raising a teenager…

  She looked down and cursed. The first batch of pancakes had burned. She slid them into the garbage with her spatula and started over. She had thought taking command of the Pacific Northwest region would be a quiet change of pace from undercover work in the dense metropolitan cities of Chicago and Washington DC. Boy, had she been mistaken.

  The work she did now was more important than any work she had done on the Hill for Senator Wilks. Back then, she had just helped create policy that might or might not have trickled down to the people she was trying to help. Now, she was on the front line. If Jill made a bad decision or her team failed, people could die or get captured by the IXTF. She directly saw the consequences of her failures. It was a sobering experience.

  Jill switched over to Roen’s channel. “This is Hen House. What’s your location? Heard you’re dark. Can you talk?”

  “For you, darling, any time,” his voice piped across the comm cheerfully. “We’re just outside of the perimeter, a little over a klick out.”

  “I hear you went grocery shopping. Scrambled?”