The Rebirths of Tao Page 3

  “Roger. Five bad eggs. One scrambled. Four live chicks. Will need to incubate.”

  “Already on it. Hey, Bad Seed mentioned one of the eggs was…”

  “…his age. Yes ma’am, she is.”

  “Is… is she pretty?”

  There was a very long pause.

  He finally answered. “Is this a trick question? Because to be honest, I can’t think of a good way to answer this without getting busted by you, the girl’s father, or some higher power. Therefore, I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

  “I see. Are their feathers clipped at least?”

  “Affirmative. They look a mess. Probably haven’t eaten in days.”

  Jill looked down at the small stack of pancakes she was building and went to the pantry to get more flour and eggs. Fifteen minutes later, a red light on the screen came on. Roen must have reached the entrance to the tunnels. They would be at the main safe house shortly.

  Jill wiped her hands of the pancake mix and removed her apron. She pulled back her hair and checked herself in the mirror. She left her pile of pancakes, snapped her holster around her waist, and walked into the pantry closet.

  On the far wall, behind the five-pound cans of tomato paste, she punched a code on a number pad and waited as part of the floor next to her swung down to expose a spiral staircase. She trotted down the metal steps and went to meet her new guests, as any good host would.

  The farmhouse, an old converted lumber mill near the Pacific Ocean, looked run down and decrepit from the outside. The interior reinforced the exterior image and looked perfectly ordinary. Under the farmhouse, however, was a fortified bunker prepped with enough supplies to last several years. The house stood on top of a mined-out gold plot with underground tunnels that snaked for several kilometers in either direction. At one point, back when most of the land here wasn’t part of the United States, this was the Prophus command center for the entire western half of the country. Now, it served an even more important job.

  There were two escape routes carved deep into the ground: a hidden tunnel that led westward two kilometers to an underwater cave where one of the remaining Prophus submarines – a tiny unarmed commercial submersible once used for tourism – served as their escape vehicle. The other tunnel was a straight shot east into the Redwood National Park to the edge of a cavern mouth. A dozen mountain bikes served as their getaway vehicles for that route.

  Roen had corralled their new guests into the main open area of the safe house. It had roughly the same footprint as the farmhouse above it, except the ceilings were low, which made the space feel claustrophobic. That wasn’t a problem for people like her and Roen, but for some of their guests – that Russian in particular, who had to tilt his head to the side when he stood up – it looked decidedly uncomfortable.

  There were half a dozen cots and couches lining the sides of the room and a large square table in the center. A television was attached to the wall on the far end, a stack of free weights stood in the near corner, and a Ping-Pong table was opposite it. The very first person Jill trained her sights onto as she came down the staircase was the girl.

  “Crap.”

  She is striking. The girl will be beautiful when she grows up. Definitely an Adonis Vessel.

  “Nothing worries a mother more than a pretty girl. I have a bad feeling about this one. Maybe I should forbid them from showering.”

  The fair-haired girl looked to be about Cameron’s age, though most likely a little younger. Jill could tell that the girl was agile; she moved easily when she walked and carried the grace of a dancer, though in this case, she was pretty sure the dances the girl performed were of the more deadly variety. Her gaze wandered back to the tall, gaunt-looking man standing protectively close to her. That had to be her father.

  Ladm is a pragmatic Quasing and has always played the role of financier. His hosts never got their hands dirty. Vladimir is high on Vinnick’s roster of rainmakers. Last recorded net worth was around four hundred million.

  “A big fish. Why can’t we have guys like that on our side?”

  We did. They either lost their fortunes or are already dead.

  “Is he soft? Just a rainmaker?”

  Unlikely. No one operating in Russia is soft, especially those under Councilman Vinnick. Since the war began, no Quasing has maintained a more stable zone of control than Flua.

  “Where does Vladimir rank on the fanaticism scale? If the reports are correct, many in Vinnick’s regime are almost as crazy as in Enzo’s.”

  Unsure. We will cover that during the debriefing.

  “There’re less of them here than I thought. Who’s our VIP?”

  The woman.

  “What about ours?”

  He is not there.

  Jill looked over the group, identifying and detailing each Quasing and their host’s role before clicking the safety off her pistol. She was sure there was no danger; Roen would never let his son get close to them otherwise. However, a show of force often proved the best deterrent for trouble. Just because both factions faced a new enemy in the IXTF didn’t mean the Prophus and Genjix didn’t still despise each other. Even years later, memories of Sonya, Paula, and Stephen were fresh in Jill’s mind.

  Jill stopped at the bottom of the stairwell and waited until everyone in the group noticed her, then walked deliberately slowly through them until she was at the far side. She turned around, keeping her hand close to her firearm. By now, the group had fallen silent.

  “My name is Jill Tan,” she said tersely, watching the recognition on each person’s face. She was used to being the bogey-woman of the Genjix. More than a few had tried to attack her on the spot after she announced that, something she highly recommended against with Roen in the room.

  She drew her pistol and kept it in plain view. “You are under Prophus protection as well as detainment. Try to escape and we’ll kill you and your Quasing. Be disruptive and endanger my operation, we’ll kill you and your Quasing. If you do not obey instructions, we will kill you and your Quasing. Do you understand?”

  The girl’s father put his arm protectively around his daughter’s shoulder, but she was eying Jill without any hint of fear. In fact, she looked like she was seething. Jill hoped the girl wouldn’t do anything stupid. Killing a child twisted her insides into knots, but no one lived in a civilized world anymore.

  “We’re going to interrogate you separately. Think very carefully over the next few hours about the words you’ll say. Your life could depend on it.” Jill looked at Roen. “Quarantine them.”

  “Excuse me,” the father said. “My daughter. She can stay with me?”

  She shook her head. “You, Vladimir, should think doubly seriously about your words. You have two to think for.”

  “She’s only fourteen!” He raised his voice. “What sort of a monster are you?”

  Two meters distance. Aim for his lower left leg to avoid the girl.

  “I’m not going to shoot someone in front of his daughter, Baji.”

  Jill cocked her pistol and pointed it at him. “Take another step, Genjix, and I’ll show you exactly the sort of monster I am.”

  Roen had his rifle pointed at the man as well. “Vladimir, step off. Nobody wants this; most of all you.”

  The large man held his hands up. Jill noticed that his daughter continued to look at her, no, study her, without fear. The girl was used to having guns pointed at her. She didn’t flinch at all. This child was dangerous in more ways than one.

  Jill holstered her pistol and walked back toward the stairwell. “You’ll be given your own rooms with hot showers and a bed for now. I suggest you get some rest.” As she was leaving, she saw Cameron standing halfway down the staircase looking at her.

  Her heart twisted a little. Her son had experienced a lot since Roen and she had reconciled. They had done their best to shield Cameron from as much of the ugly parts of their work as possible, but it couldn’t be helped. Then she noticed the pistol in his hand. Their eyes met and he
looked abashed. He crept back up the stairs and was gone.

  Jill shook her head sadly. Even with everything that had happened, he was a good kid. Reality was a harsh master, but in this case, it was also the best teacher. He was almost a man now. Pretty soon, he would need to join the network and fight alongside them. Not quite yet, though. Not if she and Roen could help it. At least not today.

  3

  Wanted Guests

  Timestamp: 2566

  They told me I was in a medically-induced coma for three weeks. Truth was, that was probably the best nap I’d had in years. When I finally woke up, I realized that something was wrong. I couldn’t move and felt as if my body was floating on water. I knew that couldn’t be, because I can’t tread water worth a damn. I tried to call out, but could only moan.

  A nurse came in and turned the lights on. She pulled this tube out of my mouth and asked if I could hear her. Asked if I was hungry or needed to take a shit. I nodded to all three. I looked down and saw that my entire body was wrapped in plaster like a mummy. My eyes focused on my exposed toe, and I wiggled it. Seeing it move felt pretty glorious. The pain that followed, not so much.

  * * *

  The first thing Roen did after he locked up the Genjix refugees was to walk Cameron to the end of their long driveway. It was already half past eight, so his son being late to school was a foregone conclusion. Roen handed him a typed-out tardy excuse; they kept a dozen of these in a tin box for these sorts of occasions. This time, according to the piece of paper, Cameron was needed to deal with coyotes that were stalking their chicken coop. He was pretty sure coyotes lived in these parts. Now if they only had a coop, or chickens, for that matter.

  The high school was used to his tardiness, and he was a straight A student, so the teachers were willing to look the other way. Besides, his parents – actually just Jill – spent an awful lot of time volunteering for the PTA, so that earned Cameron a decent amount of slack in this small community. Still, best not to push their chances.

  “Hey, Roen,” Cameron said, walking the bike down the gravel driveway toward the asphalt road.

  Roen nudged him on the shoulder. “That’s Dad to you, pal.”

  “Sorry, just voicing Tao’s words. He wants you to be careful with this group of Genjix.”

  “He says that about every group of Genjix.”

  “This one in particular.”

  Roen shrugged. “He says that too. They’re in my home with my wife and kid. If that bald Russian so much as looks at you and your mom sideways, I’ll put a –”

  Cameron said, hopping on his bike, “It’s not Vladimir he wants you to watch out for. He’ll talk to you about it later tonight.”

  “All right, son, have a good day. Come home straight after school and don’t run into any trees.”

  “Dad, I was six and the tree had it coming. It was between me and the sea lion pen.”

  Roen watched Cameron pedal away until he was only a speck disappearing down the road. He wondered what Tao meant. Wait, no, he bet he could figure out what his best friend and mentor was going to say.

  The only good Genjix is a dead one. Usually followed by shoot them or stab them through the heart. That was regular Tao wisdom, second only to get your ass out of bed.

  Roen chuckled as he walked back toward the farmhouse. The climb up the hill always reminded him of his age. His right knee ached again and both of his hips were flaring up. His lower back hurt. His left shoulder was starting to lose its range of motion, and he caught himself slouching more and more these days. Other than that, he was the picture of health. Now that he thought about it, he needed to take a piss more often, too.

  Roen walked through the front door and found Jill in the kitchen, sorting out several plates of food. Either she forgot to tell him about the squad of agents coming in, or she was going to use blueberry pancakes for advanced interrogation. He opened the fridge and pulled out a container of orange juice.

  He sniffed it and looked up. “Where’s the good stuff?”

  Jill shook her head. “Out of the non-concentrate. You’re stuck with that until next week. Did you get confirmation from our VIP guest?”

  Roen nodded. “She’s our girl, and by all indications, a whale.”

  Jill lifted an eyebrow. “A real one?”

  “As real as it gets. She smuggled some documents on this chip.” He held it up. “Harry is skimming the download now. If it’s legit, I’m shooting it off to Command for the brain boys to break down. I’m keeping her in the locked cells until we find out the other three’s intentions. No need to blow her cover unless necessary.”

  Jill nodded. “What about the others?”

  “Unknown. About to hit them up next.” He motioned to the humongous stack of pancakes. “Are we using these as an interrogation tactic or are you pregnant again?”

  “That’s not funny.” Using the spatula, she flicked a pancake at him. Roen caught it and put it in his mouth. “I’ll come with you to talk to them.”

  “You know, instead of feeding them,” he made a twisting motion with his hands, “I could just tighten screws into their thumbs.”

  She picked up the plate of pancakes. “Hearts and minds, dear. Hearts, minds and stomachs. Nothing speaks to a bunch of refugees like pancakes with mounds of syrup. Have they been separated?”

  He nodded. “Block D. I gave the Russian and his daughter the last two rooms with the connecting door. We can separate them during interrogation.”

  “What about our man on the inside?”

  Roen shook his head. “Sachin didn’t make it. He sacrificed his life to buy them time, and he initiated a firefight with IXTF purposely in order for me to pinpoint their location. I wouldn’t have reached them in time otherwise.”

  Jill cursed. “We are rapidly running out of agents in Asia. Do you think anyone will turn?”

  Roen shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Moderates on the run. Lost everything but the clothes on their backs. What do they have to gain dying by the sword? The line has been blurred since the Council Power Struggle enveloped all of Asia. Everyone’s loyalty is flexible. It’s just too bad the Prophus are so weak, we can’t take advantage of the chaos.”

  Jill exhaled. “It’s a shame. Even with their Council at odds, everyone is more powerful than us. But as long as Rin’s turned, we might finally have found a way to win.”

  “Ohr should turn as well.” Roen tried to pluck another pancake with his fingers, only to be rewarded with a slap on the wrist and a stern look from his wife. “The interesting one will be the Russian. We’ll have to play him close to the vest.”

  “Rats scurrying off the sinking ship? His network files had both him and his wife pretty high up in Vinnick’s hierarchy. In fact, Alexandra is Vinnick’s goddaughter.”

  “Fleeing that psychopath Enzo for sure.” Roen paused. “The girl’s a host. We could use her as leverage.”

  “Have we sunk so low we use children now?”

  “Pfft. Pretty sure we kicked down that threshold four hundred years ago. It’s a burden I’ll gladly live with if it means getting the upper hand.”

  “Doesn’t mean we should give up civility.” Jill handed him the plate and picked up a bottle of maple syrup. “Let’s go feed our guests.”

  The two of them went down the secret staircase to the main safe house area and then into a series of single-file corridors. Most of the tunnels here predated the farmhouse, a veritable maze of old mining tunnels, except now some of the walls closer to the main living space were plastered with rough and uneven drywall, courtesy of Roen’s handyman skills. He had spent much of their first year here excavating and making the mineshaft functional for their needs by building everything out with nothing more than power tools and a do-it-yourself manual he bought from the Internet.

  He admitted the hallways and rooms looked hideous, but they were his hideous hallways and rooms. He swelled with pride every time he led anyone down here and was always sure to let them know about his handiwork, even th
e prisoners. Especially the prisoners.

  “Remind me to call the IXTF office after this meeting,” he said, as they walked toward the doors at the far end.

  “You tied them up and asked for animal shelter ransom again?”

  “Might as well go to a good cause.”

  “You know, you’re not helping any of these shelters by putting so much heat on them. I bet every charity you force a donation upon has gotten their books audited with a fine-toothed comb. One day, it’s going to catch up with you.”

  “If they do, I hope they remember all the living IXTF agents that could have been dead IXTF agents.”

  They unlocked the door on the right and entered a small cell. There was a bed against the right wall, a small table with chairs on the left, and a toilet and sink on the far end. There was also a door that connected to an adjacent room. Vladimir was sitting at the table with Alex, whispering with their heads close together. The two stood up, and he moved his daughter behind him as Roen and Jill walked in.

  “If you have any decency,” Vladimir said, “do what you must, but not in front of Alex. Send her away. I beg you.” He looked down at the plates of food in their hands and took on a sheepish look. “Perhaps I spoke too soon.”

  “Oh no, you were right,” Roen quipped. “We just like to eat while we torture.”

  Jill slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Vladimir Mengsk, would you like some breakfast? I’m going to take your daughter next door.”

  Roen watched as she coaxed the girl out from behind her father and ushered her into the next room. She looked back and nodded before closing the door. He gestured for Vladimir to sit before joining him. Roen watched as he dug into the pancakes, and waited a few minutes to let the guy swallow a few big bites. After all, the man had been on the run and hadn’t eaten for a while. Not to mention that Roen still might have to shoot him, and he’d hate to execute someone without a last meal.

  After he had polished off five pancakes in less than two minutes, Vladimir wiped his mouth and studied him. “The famous Roen Tan.”