Essentially Human Read online

  There, by the side was tool box. She opened in and peered inside. The light revealed a screwdriver, very long. She knew this type, with interchangeable heads. She selected a sharpened end and snapped it into place. A button powered a motor and it spun as she set it along near the bottom of J’jasa’s display. It didn’t take long to be through the case. She watched as a few drops of water came out and she realized she needed a second one, near the top.

  She’d just finished that hole when the vehicle started and began to move. The drivers were separated by a barrier, so she continued working without concern. The water from J’jasa trickled out as air entered. A sudden essence of sea foam filled the air and she knew his body was gone. She took a moment to look inside and watched as his flesh melted away, returning to the basic form. Water.

  Once she’d emptied one side of the van, unsealing the containers carrying samples, she moved to the other. Gaba’s container was made of tougher stuff. Her tool proved inadequate to the task. She drew a heavy breath and looked around. Computers, binders of information, miniature data sticks she recognized from watching Sam put them together on the ship, organized in neat little rows. Labeled.

  Her eyes caught on one page as she flipped through it. Interrogation. He’d questioned one of them. She got to her feet and maneuvered until she could look through a small viewing window into the container. Eyes stared at her and she jerked back, upsetting the tool box, which slid loudly toward the front of the van.

  Alive?

  Crying out she returned to the window and gazed into the tortured orbs of Gaba. No, he was gone, but he still stared out, at nothing. The data rained down upon her as the van suddenly heaved to one side.

  No! They were going to stop and find her? She wasn’t finished…

  She threw the back door open and began heaving items from the walls and throwing them out. The binders, the laptops, the monitors, everything she could get her hands on went flying out the door, swinging erratically as the van reacted to some outside force.

  Sam? Was he trying to stop them? She couldn’t afford to wait. She seized a hammer from the tool box and began to strike at the window above Gaba’s face. But it was too tough! She fell to the floor as the van violently took a turn and began to roll. Gaba’s container broke free and she just missed being buried as she careened into J’jasa’s display, shattering it into pieces and throwing sea water everywhere. For a moment she felt suspended in the air and then the van struck, landed on its side and kept moving. Another small drop and she water poured in through the back door. They were sinking.

  She had to get break Gaba free. She scrambled as the water rose, searching for anything to use. But nothing worked. With a sob she collapsed against the container.

  “I’m so sorry! I can’t do it, Gaba… I’m sorry!” Her head fell against the lid. An odd sensation grew from her scalp. She opened her eyes to see something slender and shiny slide down her face, then another. They looked like the tendrices some of the Aleena sported at their backs…

  She tried to turn her head, thinking T’talin had found her?

  But, no. There was resistance to turning away. A moment later, she heard the hiss of a seam opening, and the tiny threadlike tendrils withdrew…back to her head.

  Oh, God. She really wasn’t human. All her attempts to relearn what it meant to belong to the rest of the world were in vain. None of it mattered.

  The water rose past her hips and she didn’t move. It was time to drown, she’d put it off long enough.

  15

  Hammer held the curse words inside, surveying the computer screens in front of him. There was a bug in the system and it was proving all but impossible to unearth. The underground had infiltrated. The head of security believed it had been done through the invite-an-intern program and they already had a suspect under surveillance.

  But that idea didn’t ring true. This worm was subtle and extremely fast. More like a spider, with invisible threads winding through the system. He had a feeling they hadn’t accidentally stumbled on a saboteur. There was a glacier buried beneath this intrusion.

  For weeks nothing had been coming together. They should have known much sooner about Montgomery’s brother-in-law and the prototype motorcycle he made his escape on. Once they knew, they should have been able to collect surveillance photos, but again and again, cameras failed within the nationwide system. Images came in blurred beyond retrieval, resulting in false leads time and again.

  A worker finally brought him a poster used to promote a club on Manhattan that clearly focused on a lone woman, dancing. Rachel Ash. Shorter hair, but it was the woman. “My son was planning a trip into the city to dance and came back with this poster, said it looked like the woman I’ve been searching for.”

  Hammer took the poster, ripped off a telephone pole and frowned. It had to be from a video, why hadn’t his facial recognition programs unearthed it? Then he’d known, something was working against them. The engineers set their focus on uncovering why they’d missed the video and were still digging.

  At the same time, the defense department reported a constant wave of malfunctions in their be-on-the-look-out for system. Descriptions changed, locations switched, images were altered. All geared to keep Montgomery and his fugitive free of detection.

  Then the alert programs began to feed alternative information regarding the underground cells the government had been tracing for decades.

  It all started with the escape of Bales. With a growing sense of frustration, he attempted to research her background in greater depth and discovered she knew more about computer systems then he’d been led to believe. When he double checked the information, the school records showed her as majoring in underwater basket weaving.

  He wasn’t amused.

  More than a month of attempting to shield his systems and deal with complaints from Washington regarding the mischief left him ready to personally murder the next idiot who crossed his path. Since his technology had been breached, he sent for the physical proof of the Aleena, preparing to reveal to the military the presence of the aliens in the waters.

  The sonar weapon hadn’t brought them to the surface, but once the entire world was on the watch, they’d be found and mercilessly destroyed. He already had plans to use a modified nuclear weapon in the deepest trenches.

  When his cell phone signaled an incoming text, he automatically shifted the message to display on the large screens he monitored, attempting to stay ahead of the malfunctions.

  YOU WILL PAY

  What the hell? He attempted to back trace the origin of the message but found the signal faded before he could even begin to track it. Another message flashed across the screen.

  The cetacean institute was raided. Specimens missing. Suspect is a slight woman, aided by at least one individual. Search ongoing.

  A pounding headache throbbed into being as he slowly pushed his chair away. Without a backward glance, he left his office and disappeared into the afternoon sun.

  *****

  Sam crawled from the remains of the sedan and dove into the water. The van was beginning to drift with the current, already half submerged. He hadn’t seen the two men get out, but he didn’t care. Ria was in the back. He’d seen her climb in and been too late to join her. Rushing to the sedan, he followed the van and saw no recourse; he had to force it off the road. Sheer luck saw him succeed, but he hadn’t counted on the bridge over the tidal flat.

  The current wasn’t very strong, or deep, just enough to keep the van sluggishly moving. He wrenched the door open as the sun pierced the morning clouds, giving him enough light to see by. Chaos reigned inside the vehicle. Containers floated, bobbing here and there. Similar to the ones he’d had to dodge as they were thrown into the road.

  “Ria!”

  The van settled lower and he pushed into the rising water, desperately searching. His hand encountered something familiar…and he grabbed hold and pulled at the strands. When Ria’s face rose before him, the eyes were open and bla
nk. Without thought, he pulled her close and fought his way toward freedom. The water closed in and he had to dive to reach the exit.

  Ria wasn’t helping.

  Please, oh, god! Please, don’t die. Don’t die!

  They must have fallen into a deeper channel; he thrust upward and found the surface. Twisting to his back, he hauled Ria onto his chest and kicked for shore. Just beyond her too still face, he saw a bare corner of the van still above water, twisting and then coming to a stop. Must have hit a sand bar.

  “Sam!”

  The next few minutes were a blur. Hermione waded into the water and helped him pull Ria to the muddy shore. He bent over her and began CPR. A mouthful of muddy water greeted his third breath as she coughed. Hermione rolled Ria to the side and struck her back several times as she gasped between bouts of vomiting.

  Sam knelt, looking at them. Hermione sported a black cap of short hair and had lost more weight.

  “Uncle Monty! H! We need to get moving, I hear sirens!”

  “Jermaine?” Sam blinked at the skinny young man, fighting to shuffle the events of the last hour into order.

  “You grabbed their bags?” Hermione looked up from Ria.

  “Yup!” The young man offered a hand to Hermione, then grinned at Sam. Ria tried to sit up, but her hands sank into the mud and she flopped back down. Sam reached to help and she shrank away from him.

  There wasn’t time for this. He grabbed her arm and ignored her attempt to get away. They weren’t far from a levy road and there a small hatchback waited, engine running. Ria turned to look back at the water, still dripping with mud and water. Sam noted a small curve at her lips before a blank wall fell across her face. She’d lost her skirt in the skirmish, and her shirt gaped open.

  Sam followed her into the back seat, shoving their packs into the luggage area behind the cushions. She coughed, then as he watched, she collapsed.

  “She all right?” Jermaine asked from the driver’s seat, waiting for Hermione to shut the door.

  Ria didn’t try to pull away as Sam touched her. He picked the wet strands of hair off her face and gazed into her eyes. Her breath warmed the palm of his hand, she’d just escaped the only way she knew.

  “She’s asleep. We need somewhere warm.” He rubbed at her arm, chilled to the bone. “And clean clothes. And I want to get drunk.”

  “I know just the place. Reservations are made.” Hermione twisted to watch as he pulled Ria into his arms. “I think there is a blanket on the floor behind my seat.”

  “Thanks.” The car was tiny and he easily found the rough fabric, covered Ria and gazed at Hermione. “How the hell did you end up here?”

  “Followed the logical path you were taking. Jermaine here needed to get out of town.” She lifted her phone and studied it. “Take a right at the next intersection. We’re going into Old Bridgeport. The two in the van got out, I saw them climbing from the water on the other side, but they didn’t stick around to see what you did.”

  “You find what you were looking for?” Jermaine smoothly made the turn, ignoring the three sheriff’s vehicles tearing the opposite way.

  “I think she did.”

  “I found one of those canisters she was dumping, just had funky smelling water in it.”

  “T’talin said the Aleena dissolve into water at death, much the same way we turn to worm food. So, perhaps that was one of the missing.” He shook his head and laid it back on the seat.

  “Dig the new hairstyle, Monty.”

  “Shut up, Jermaine.” Exhausted, Sam smiled at the ceiling and closed his eyes. What the fuck to do now?

  *****

  Ria woke up as Sam carried her into one of the nicest hotel rooms she’d ever seen. She pushed away from his chest and he didn’t argue, only set her down. Blinking at Professor Bales and the tall, young black man standing next to her, she unerringly headed for the bathroom, shedding the remnants of her clothes as she did so, along with large clops of dirt.

  She heard muttered voices just before she started the shower, then the slamming of a door. Her brain mercifully didn’t chatter while she methodically washed herself. The memory of the threads in her hair returned as she shampooed. The day before, her hair had been to her shoulders, now it hung to butt.

  Must be another thing they changed when they brought her back. Why so fast? A fleeting thought answered.

  To hide the threads necessary to free the missing ones.

  Odd, that almost sounded like T’talin. But she was far from the Aleena and assumed it was nothing more than some tidbit of knowledge she’d forgotten. They might have told her at some point about the threads, but if so, the memory was so far lost in the past she couldn’t retrieve it.

  The water sluiced down her back as she rinsed her hair. She spit, still tasting the salty mud from the inlet. How had they ended up in the water?

  Didn’t matter.

  She used to hear voices. When she wrote it was joke the writers shared with each other. How their characters spoke to them, sometimes felt like they stepped in and wrote for them. It happened for her.

  But this was different. A shiver ran up her spine, despite the hot water and she thrust the concern away. It didn’t matter anymore. The two youngsters were returned to the sea. The tide would carry the news to the Aleena. She just wanted to go back to the ship.

  Once dried off, she braided her hair and saw a pile of clothing left by the sink. Her ragtag dress and a sweater, along with a pair of sandals. She was actually tired of wearing clothes, but human social norms had to be followed.

  In the greater room, she found the young man, sitting on the edge of a bed, fiddling with a large screen monitor mounted on the wall. He stood up and held out his hand. “I’m Jermaine Drummond.”

  That’s right, she needed to shake his hand. She took it a moment. “You’re Doctor Drummond’s son? I’m Ria.”

  “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “The shower is free now, for Agent Montgomery.”

  “He used the one next door. H got two rooms. He’s already cleaned up and…” The young man paused as if uncertain how to continue.

  Ria waited, saying nothing.

  “He asked me to stay here with you.”

  “Fine.” Ria turned to look at the monitor. A local newsfeed was talking about the accident on the bridge. “Where are we?”

  “This is Old Bridgeport. The facility was in New Bridgeport.”

  She tilted her head. There was something she wanted to do in Old Bridgeport. She held out a hand. “May I use the remote, please?”

  He turned it over and she clicked over to local entertainment news, found the music clubs and proceeded to flip through screens so fast, she heard Jermaine ask her to slow down. She stopped at a map and studied it. “We are here?” She pointed at a square on the map.

  “Yeah. What are you thinking…?”

  She traced the route and computed how far it was to the club. Only six blocks. She set the remote down, grabbed at her pack to pull out the strappy purse holding her ID and credit chits. Stepping to the door, Jermaine jumped up and blocked her. “We’re not supposed to go anywhere.”

  “No, you are supposed to keep an eye on me. Well, keep an eye on me at the club. I also want to eat. It’s dark no one will take particular notice of us.” She stared into his eyes and after a moment, she saw one eyebrow lift.

  “Okay. You’re right, I’m hungry and I don’t know those bands. I’m up for something new.” He grabbed a jacket off the stuffed chair and actually held the door open for her. The monitor had the map on it, route traced. She considered changing it and decided not to. Sam would be angry already. And she didn’t want to get Drummond’s son in trouble.

  But she had to go. She needed the music, someplace loud where she could scream and not be heard.

  *****

  Sam looked up from the bloody Mary and gazed at her. “What they did to her…it’s obscene. And she didn’t know!”

  “Well, from what you’ve said about her emo
tional state, knowing they’d implanted something alien into her head, might have done her more harm than good. I doubt it was done lightly. Drum has been in contact with them, Sam. And he is incredibly impressed. You know, he is the most compassionate and empathetic person I know. He’s communicated nothing but awe and appreciation for what they can do.”

  “But he doesn’t know what they did to her.”

  “Perhaps he does. You know, I haven’t been able to examine the data or chat with him regarding what they’ve shared. He’s a doctor, it would make sense for him to ask about her.” She paused, considering a memory. “I know he’s examined the records of her short stay at the facility…”

  He stared into his glass, eyes weary. “She didn’t know. How could she not know? How could they not tell her?”

  Hermione reached over and slid the glass from his limp hands. “Eat, no more booze until we’ve eaten.” She waved a waiter over and ordered for both of them, while he stared at the table. The lines on his forehead ran a crooked path between his eyes. The long hair took some getting used to, but it was a good disguise. She’d barely recognized the man struggling out of that muck. “You’ve been on alert for months because she is volatile and prone to walk into trouble, Sam. Perhaps they did tell her and she forgot. Or they knew she couldn’t handle it, so kept it from her. Or…who knows? They are aliens!”

  He snorted, as if appreciating her humor. She hoped so. He glanced up through the hair strands, pulled free from the ponytail, and his blue eyes sharpened. “You’re on the run. Jermaine is with you…fill me in.”

  That was more like it. As she explained her fall from grace, and why Drum’s son was with her, the food arrived. Sam ate and listened, asking questions about her resources and the allies they might still have at the capitol.

  “Something is going on with Hammer. The underground hub I’ve been working at is finding it increasingly easy to infiltrate and mess with his systems. I suspect the Aleena are breaking through and opening windows, doors…hell, I think they are going to tear the roof off.”