The Rise of Io Read online

  Originally, they were one of thousands of refugees moved to camps during the war and told that these accommodations were temporary until the region stabilized. They were one of the first families to move to Crate Town when the containers were repurposed for housing. Now, a decade later, the same people were still living in their temporary homes.

  Ella hopped on a stool and took a piece of gum from the pack Little Fab had so carelessly left on the counter. She popped it in her mouth before he could stop her. “Did you sneak a peek at my lovelies in those briefcases?”

  He nodded. “A nice haul of tetanus and hepatitis doses. Short supply around here, especially with the rust getting worse.”

  “Will help a good amount of folks around here,” she said.

  “The ones that can pay.”

  Both chuckled.

  “With supplies low,” she said, “how much for the entire haul?”

  He wrote a number on a piece of paper and slid it along the counter. Ella glanced at it and raised an eyebrow. She looked over toward the beaded curtains. “Your youngest isn’t doing me right, Big Fab.” The old man glanced up from his book, then went back to reading.

  “It’s a lot of money for us to tie up. We risk opportunity cost for months selling this,” Little Fab shrugged. “Not like you can take this anywhere else, Ella. Besides, you brought some heat near us yesterday. Those punks are still prowling around looking for you. Take the offer or leave it.”

  Ella clenched her teeth and balled her tiny hands into fists. For all the work she had put in, she wanted double what he was offering. This was the biggest haul she had scored all year, and it was supposed to keep her afloat for months. She was the one who had scoped the job and done the legwork. She was the one who had risked her neck. More importantly, it set a poor precedence with the Fabs the next time she brought a score in. She knew she had quite a bit of haggling to do before Little Fab came up with something reasonable.

  Little Fab was wrong about one thing: Ella could take it somewhere else. She could take her inventory to Puab, another fence in Little Dharavi, the next slum over, though she had hoped at least to keep the medicine in Crate Town. Sure, it was great to make some scratch, but helping the community along the way was a nice bonus.

  She could sell it herself, but that was such a pain in the ass. She hated retail, especially when it came to selling medicine to neighbors. She had a hard ass image to maintain, but her resolve weakened when it came to those in need.

  The two of them haggled for another fifteen minutes. Ella hollered, threatened, and screamed, pushing Little Fab far enough up that she no longer felt insulted. He knew she had limited options with such specialized inventory and held his ground. In the end, as much about pride and anger as it was unwilling to get ripped off, Ella slammed the two briefcases shut, intent on striking off on her own.

  Take the deal.

  She froze. What was that? Who was that? Was that her? She stared at the two metal containers on the counter, doubt suddenly flooding her head. She considered herself to have good instincts, and her gut was telling her to walk. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

  Little Fab noticed the hesitation. “All right, I’ll give you five points on sales. Take it or leave it.”

  Five points was hardly enough, but it pushed Ella over the edge. She let go of the two briefcases and burned a little inside as Little Fab, all smiles, paid her out. Ella scrunched her face at the final tally.

  “Great doing business with you,” Little Fab said.

  Ella swallowed the scorching words begging to escape her lips and stomped outside. She hated being on the short end, but the Fabs were the only decent fences around. If she pissed them off and they stopped doing business with her, she’d have to haul all the way to Little Dharavi to get any product moved. That was not only inconvenient, but dangerous.

  In the end, she could only be mad at herself. She took the deal. No one twisted her arm. She could have held on to those two briefcases and walked out, and figured out how to offload them elsewhere.

  These thoughts stewed inside Ella’s head as she walked down the street. She replayed the scenario over and over, and wondered how she could have shook it out differently, but it all came down to her second-guessing herself, something she rarely did. This decision was going to haunt her for a few days.

  Stop!

  Ella was so surprised by the shout in her head that she tripped and nearly knocked a stall over. She put her hands together apologetically to the vendor and bowed. Rattled, she tried to continue on her way.

  Stop. In front on the left. Someone coming right for you.

  Confused, Ella looked to the left at the crowded market. At first, nothing looked out of the ordinary. It was a busy street with shops and steady foot traffic going both ways. Then she saw him: Uncle Manu. Their eyes locked and he began to run toward her.

  “Oh crap.”

  Stupid careless girl. Usually, she was much more aware of her surroundings. She had been so deep in thought she would have plowed directly into him. Fortunately, he was still half a block away, and Manu didn’t exactly move quick.

  Ella slipped behind a tent and crossed a narrow alley between two container clusters. She turned the corner and took off in a sprint.

  Head west.

  Ella was about to follow the order blindly when she realized for certain that this voice definitely did not come from her. She had planned on circling east and grabbing some food before dusk.

  This voice, where was it coming from? She looked around the narrow alley. “What the gods is going on? Is someone playing a prank on me? Some candid camera crap? I will knock your head off.”

  West toward the docks. The other way.

  “I know where the docks are!” Nobody ordered Ella around, not even herself. She planted her feet and crossed her arms. “I’m not doing anything until you tell me who you are and what’s going on. You’re not the boss of me.”

  I just saved you from that policeman. He is still close by.

  “I don’t care.”

  Fine. I will make you a deal. Get to safety, and I will explain everything. I recommend the docks. Once there, I will explain.

  Ella grudgingly nodded. The docks made sense. Few people other than fishermen, dockworkers and construction crews hung out around there. “Fine,” she grumbled. “But you spill everything, yeah?”

  I will. Get moving.

  Six

  First Contact

  Ella left the market area and grudgingly made her way west, traveling along narrow less-traveled back streets, cutting across the Rubber Market, then through the warehouse district and finally past the construction site.

  The list of people after Ella seemed to be growing longer and longer with each passing day. Manu had been chasing her for months now, and it seemed she had misjudged the Pakistani gangsters’ tenacity, thinking they wouldn’t stick around after she had robbed them.

  When she had signed on to be their translator, they had claimed they were heading back across the border that very day. A few of the gangsters must have stayed behind, which was surprising. She had only taken a tenth of the merchandise, and none of it cash. Ella had thought it wouldn’t be worth their while to hunt her down. It seemed she had thought incorrectly.

  She should probably keep a low profile until things blew over. After all, the longer they hung around Crate Town, the likelier someone was to sell her out. No matter how tight the community was here when it came to outsiders, everyone had a price.

  She reached the docks just as the sun was sinking into the ocean, and sat down near the ocean’s edge to watch the water lap the jagged broken concrete blocks. The air smelled of fish and brine and garbage, and the constant buzz of horns and people shouting was replaced by the honking of seagulls, slopping waves and construction machinery. Ella lay down against a cracked slab smoothed over by the elements and stared at the fast-moving clouds.

  “OK, talk, you crazy intruder in my head. Who the gods are you?”

  Do
you know what a Quasing is, child?

  Ella did not appreciate being called a child. She had, however, heard of Quasing. “It’s those weird aliens that the world just fought that war over. What about them?”

  I am one of those Quasing aliens, and I have chosen you to become my next host. You should feel honored.

  “Is that so?” Ella said. “My amma fought in that war. She died for those stupid aliens. If you’re one of those, then it’s your fault she’s gone.”

  I am sorry about your mother. Who did she fight for?

  Ella’s eyes watered. “She was a fighter pilot for the RSAF.”

  I am with the Prophus. It is the Genjix who are responsible for her death.

  “If you weren’t fighting at all, she’d still be alive!”

  The Prophus and the Genjix have been fighting through our hosts for hundreds of years. However, we are getting ahead of ourselves. As I said, I have chosen you to be my next host.

  “What does that mean?”

  It means I have chosen to inhabit you. I will offer you my wisdom and knowledge. In return, you will offer your body. Together, we will do many great things.

  Ella frowned. Offering her body to anyone didn’t sound very attractive. “That sounds like a lousy deal. Feels like I have to do all the work. You just sit in my head and order me around. What do I get out of this?”

  You get the benefit of my eons of experience and wisdom. I will train you to become an agent, and you will enjoy the many benefits of the Prophus network. You will no longer need to live on the streets.

  “And all I have to do is let you tell me what to do?”

  Of course. Think of it more as–

  Ella sat up. “Yeah, well, no deal. I’m my own president. No one tells me what to do, and I don’t want to share my body. You can leave now.”

  Unfortunately, that is no longer an option. I cannot leave until your death. We are bonded and must learn to work together as one.

  It took several moments for that news to sink in. She was trapped with this… this thing. “What are you anyway?”

  The Quasing hail from a planet far away from your solar system. We crashed millions of years ago, and have inhabited and guided some of the greatest people in history.

  “Yeah, like who? Who have you been in?”

  Rolf Andreasson the Berserker?

  “A what?”

  Captain Wilbur James Forrestor?

  “Who?”

  Well, it is not my fault you are uneducated.

  Ella pulled out her phone and swiped a few keystrokes, and then she held it up in the air as if she were showing it to a ghost. “Well, alien invader thing, the Internet doesn’t know who these guys are either, and the Internet even knows who the stray dog living next to my house is, so your guys couldn’t have been that great.”

  There was a long pause.

  Io.

  “What?”

  My name. I am called Io.

  That gave Ella pause. For some reason, it never occurred to her this alien – this thing – had a name. Somehow, that made it more human, or at least more of a person than just some nebulous thing or virus in her head. She shrugged. Well, if Burglar Alarm had a name, why couldn’t this stupid alien in her head?

  All right. Let me deconstruct your thoughts for a second. First of all, I am not a thing. I am a living being just like you. Being from the planet Quasar, my physiology is different from the creatures of Earth and it offers advantages and limitations when compared to humans. We self-reproduce constantly, which allows us to move our memories, experience, and vast knowledge over millions of years, but we are physically limited while on your planet since we cannot survive in your atmosphere. That is why we must inhabit the living beings on Earth.

  Second of all, having a name does not make me more human. The Quasing are far superior and more advanced than the dominant species on this planet.

  Lastly, do not compare me with your mangy pet.

  “Well, if you’re so superior,” Ella wiggled her fingers and pretended to quiver, “then why do you even need us lowly humans?”

  What? I just told you. Are you even listening?

  “Actually, I think you’re boring,” Ella snapped. “I’ve had enough of you and this dumb talk.”

  Well, that is too bad because you are stuck with me unless you want to jump into the ocean.

  “Your Hindi sounds awful. Why do you talk so strange?”

  It has been a long time since I have had to speak the language. I originally learned Braj Bhasha Sanskrit hundreds of years ago. It will take some adjustment to acclimate speaking in modern Hindi.

  “Don’t bother. I don’t need you and I would appreciate it if you just stop talking as long as I’m alive,” huffed Ella. “I’m going home.” She stood up and stomped across the beach.

  That will not happen and you do need me. A criminal gang is actively hunting you in your own neighborhood, it seems the police are looking for you as well, and the Genjix will now come after you.

  Ella balled her hands into fists and tried unsuccessfully to push the voice out of her head. She felt like a cornered animal and, to make matters worse, she had forgotten to eat today, so she was starving. That was a bad combination for her.

  Why are you risking your life stealing from low-level criminals for such small payouts, anyway? Is this how you want to waste your life?

  “You don’t know me,” Ella seethed. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. Who are you to judge how I live my life?”

  I know a lot about you, more than I want actually. I probably made a mistake inhabiting you.

  “I obviously made one saving that woman’s life and getting you inflicted on myself!” Ella became aware that she had just practically screamed in the middle of a busy street. Fortunately, most of the people around ignored her. The citizens of Crate Town were good at minding their own business. Getting involved in other people’s problems tended to lead to bad things. Even showing that you noticed could get someone in trouble.

  However, there was a big difference between getting involved in something and paying attention. Everyone paid attention, and everyone gossiped. Ella was pretty sure that half the slum would know that she was talking to herself and screaming at nothing by evening.

  Watch–

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up. I don’t want to talk to you anymore.” Ella was so frustrated she was on the brink of tears. However, she would rather have died than had people on the street see her cry. That would just ruin everything.

  No. Listen! One of the gangsters is eating at that curry stand to your left.

  Instinctively, Ella slipped behind a stall and glanced over the side. She saw the patrons eating at the counter at the curry stand, and scrunched her face. “Are you sure? I don’t recognize any of them.”

  The third one from the left facing the street. He was the muscle standing in the corner next to the door when the deal went down.

  “How do you know this? I don’t remember him at all.”

  An image flashed briefly into Ella’s head. She was pulled back into the dark smoky room where the trade deal between the Pakistani gangsters and the Indian smugglers was happening. There were nearly twenty men and two women in that cramped room.

  Ella had been hired to serve as the translator between the two groups. She remembered thinking how bad ass and cool those two women were. More images flashed in her head until one came from the time Ella had to look away because of the thick cigar smoke. That was when she saw the man standing in the back with his arms crossed. It was the same man stuffing his face, just meters away.

  She pulled away from the street and took a different route. “How did you do that?”

  I am in your head, girl. I can dig through your memories. I retrieved that con you pulled off yesterday to study how you operate. You are not a bad thief; a lucky one, perhaps. I found some problems with your plan. I also caught a few things you missed, like that man I just warned you about, or that you could have grabbed t
hat satchel of cash instead of one of the briefcases.

  “For your information, I didn’t go for the money intentionally. If I had, both gangs would be on my ass. Right now, I only have a couple from one. I don’t appreciate your poking in my thoughts like this.”

  I am not sorry you feel this way, because I have saved your life twice in the past hour.

  Ella couldn’t argue with that logic. “Fine,” she sputtered. “Although I think you should ask for permission first next time. It’s only civil.”

  Would it make you feel better if I do?

  “Damn right it would.”

  As you wish.

  “You’re just humoring me, aren’t you?”

  Yes.

  Ella couldn’t help but crack a smile. At least this stupid alien had a sense of humor. Maybe she could make use of this situation, somehow use this thing to her advantage. After all, these aliens had to be rare, and rare things were expensive. Maybe Ella could leverage this alien in her head for some profit. She could worry about excising this Quasing from her head later on.

  You know I can hear your thoughts, right?

  “Damn it!”

  Go get some food. We are hungry. Can we agree on that at least?

  The mention of food made the gnawing pain in her belly worse. Ella nodded. “A truce then, at least until after I eat.”

  Very well, a truce. Now go get your noodles.

  “You know way too much about me. I don’t like it.”

  All right. Go get mushroom soup.

  “I hate mushrooms.”

  I know.

  “Cut it out!”

  Seven

  Shura

  Shura the Scalpel stepped onto the commercial liner heading back to Moscow. She had stayed in Abu Dhabi one extra day, first to gauge the emirate’s response to the assassination of someone in their line of succession – the reaction was muted, the news quiet – and second, to do some shopping and play a few rounds of golf. She had a weakness for both, and at one point in her youth had considered joining the LPGA and becoming a cultural operative for the Genjix in that capacity.