Planet Hate, page 7
Until very recently, Lakesh had been suffering from a degenerative time-bomb that had been hidden in his DNA by Enlil, the Annunaki overlord. However, less than two weeks ago a chance encounter with a Quad V hybrid mutant called Priscilla had reversed the genetic curse in the elderly scientist’s system, retarding the aging process and granting Lakesh yet another lease on life. That encounter had brought Lakesh’s physiology back to that of a man of roughly fifty-five years of age, and he felt nothing less than reinvigorated at the hands of such a miracle. Dressed in casual clothes, Lakesh had arrived separately from the other three visitors, making his way to this hidden rendezvous under his own steam and appearing about an hour prior to his colleagues. He sat with a large travel bag at his feet, in which he had stored a powerful laptop computer among other items.
“The exiled son of Enlil,” Lakesh elaborated, referring to the loathsome Annunaki overlord who had proved to be Cerberus’s fiercest and most long-lived opponent, “Ullikummis returned to Earth in a meteor shower almost four months ago. As with all Annunaki, Ullikummis is indoctrinated to believe that he is a god here on Earth, and he began recruiting followers almost immediately. His methods of recruitment have been nothing less than brutal. The stone you refer to was most likely an obedience stone—a semisentient piece of Ullikummis’s own body that burrows under a host’s skin and is able to dull the thoughts of the host, as well as grant them incredible physical properties such as the rigidity of stone itself.”
Rosalia, the remaining member of the group, spoke up. Like Kane and Grant, Rosalia’s trim, long-limbed body was sheathed in a shadow suit, which clung enticingly to her curves like body paint. She had shucked off the torn skirt and jacket that she had arrived in, better showing the way the material hugged her trim body and firm muscles. A mercenary by trade, Rosalia had found herself siding with the Cerberus rebels after Ullikummis’s troops had infiltrated the Cerberus redoubt. She crouched on the wooden boards of the floor, stroking the neck of her faithful dog to calm it after the journey through the quantum gateway.
“Some of the stones have different properties,” Rosalia explained in her husky voice, the trace of her Mexican accent showing in the way she stretched her words. “The real nasty ones, they turn people into firewalkers, able to resist pain and even deflect bullets from their skin. I’ve seen them do it. Those people, they’re bad news—they’re where the whole thing starts up. You get one of those in your house, and he’ll recruit or kill anyone he can get his hands on.”
Shizuka listened as the beautiful Mexican woman continued. She had not met Rosalia before, had been surprised when Grant and Kane had arrived without their usual traveling companion, the red-haired Brigid Baptiste. For now, the samurai warrior woman would hold her tongue, but she wondered how much this dark-haired woman could be trusted—her body language gave so little away.
“But there are other stones, too,” Rosalia continued. “Lesser ones that just shit with your mind. Well,” she said, laughing, “they all do that, especially if you’re dumb enough to let them. But they have other properties, too. Some of them function like hidden keys beneath the skin.”
“Sort of like an infrared remote,” Grant elaborated in his deep rumbling voice.
“Exactly,” Rosalia agreed before turning her attention back to the dog at her feet.
Kane picked up the story then, unable to mask the anger in his voice. “A bunch of these stone lovers attacked Cerberus,” he explained. “They had help from inside—some of our own people had been turned.”
Shizuka gasped. “It hardly bears thinking about.”
“Well, we have to think about it,” Kane said. “We had to evacuate the redoubt, get the hell away from there before Ullikummis came back to wipe us out entirely. He’s already figured we’re a threat. When he took over the redoubt he thought he had us contained. Bad mistake.”
Shizuka looked from Kane to Grant, seeing the weariness in her familiar friends’ bearing, the changes they seemed to have gone through in the past few weeks since she had last seen them. While Kane was prone to a little bravado at times, his statement that this was a “bad mistake” seemed somehow more a hopeful revision of the situation than a reflection of the truth. Shizuka dismissed her suspicions for now, allowing them to fade into the background. “And what has happened to the rest of the Cerberus personnel?” she asked, looking from Kane to Grant to Lakesh.
“The team is currently in a number of locations,” Lakesh explained, “keeping on the move as much as possible. An associate of ours has been immeasurably helpful in hiding our teammates while we took stock of our changed circumstances.”
The associate to whom Lakesh referred was an independent trader called Ohio Blue, who worked out of the Louisiana/Tennessee border area. Ohio Blue’s network of mercenaries, thieves and ne’er-do-wells numbered in the dozens, with numerous other allies hidden among the gray markets that operated outside of the old villes. Blue had agreed to hide the Cerberus team in scattered locations for a fee, and while that fee was high it was notable that Cerberus—or Kane, at least—trusted her. As Kane had put it when they had settled on this course of action, “I trust these bottom feeders about as far as I can throw them, but Ohio’s pretty light so I figure I can throw her further than most.” With no better options presenting themselves, Lakesh had taken that as a recommendation.
“But, of course,” Lakesh continued after a moment’s consideration, “you already received my message or we would not be here, Shizuka.”
Shizuka nodded once. “The Tigers of Heaven own many properties across the globe,” she said. “This winter hideaway here on the Californian coast has been held by my family for over three hundred years.”
Lakesh smiled, choosing to say nothing. To him, three hundred years was his lifetime plus some small bills in change.
“The winter palace suffered extensive damage during the nukecaust and the horrors that followed, but craftsmen have worked laboriously to remake it just as it was,” Shizuka continued. “From your message, I understood that you had need of somewhere hidden away from prying eyes. Will this suit your purposes?” she asked Lakesh, gesturing around the room with a graceful sweep of her hand.
Lakesh looked around, a broad smile forming on his face. “It seems ideal,” he said, patting his hand on the large travel bag he had brought with him, “and a very generous offer. It is my hope that we can set up a semipermanent base of operations here where we might regather the Cerberus group and from which we can aggressively pursue Ullikummis and the other Annunaki.”
“You believe there are others still out there?” Shizuka asked.
Lakesh nodded.
“Those snake-faces don’t die easy,” Grant reminded his lover.
“I thought they had all expired in the explosion of Tiamat,” Shizuka said, referring to the Annunaki’s mother starship that had begun a self-destruct sequence while she was aboard about a year ago.
“We’ve bumped into Lilitu again recently,” Grant said, “and we had a run-in with Marduk last year over in Greece.”
“By establishing a definite headquarters,” Lakesh proposed, “we can tap the satellite feeds and begin monitoring for trouble once again. Our final encounter with Ullikummis showed us one thing—we had, all of us, become lax.”
From his position by the window, Kane nodded wearily, rubbing a hand over his face. “The world got a whole lot nastier while we were taking a vacation,” he said. “Ain’t going to happen twice.”
WHILE SHIZUKA WENT through the plans with Lakesh, Kane’s field team took the lull in activity to get cleaned up. It seemed they had been going nonstop for longer than any of them cared to remember, and for Kane and Grant that period of activity stretched back to the meeting with Lilitu that Grant had alluded to.
Still rubbing at his face, Kane made his way to one of the winter retreat’s bathrooms, locking the door behind him. Alone, he removed his jacket and stripped off the top portion of the shadow suit, leaving his chest bare. His chest was scarred and marked, and the shadow suit itself had tears in its weave where it had suffered some savage trauma. He still half felt as if he was trapped in a prison cell, as he had been just a few weeks ago when Rosalia had shown him a way to break free. His muscles ached, not from overuse so much as from the almost constant tension he felt.
He looked at himself in the mirror, taking in the untidy visage he presented these days. He had been a Magistrate—and a damn good one at that—in the barony of Cobaltville. A peace-keeping and law- enforcement force, the Magistrates were instilled with the discipline of soldiers, and took pride in their abilities and their appearance. Seeing himself looking so unkempt, his hair uncombed and the dark stubble that was already closer to a beard than he’d like, made Kane feel a sense of shame.
Below the mirror there was a basin shaped like a deep lotus blossom, its petals reaching up to contain the water from the faucet. Kane reached for the faucet, fitting the stopper and filling the basin with cool water, watching himself in the mirror as the basin filled. Then he reached for the faucet, turning it until the flow of water stopped.
Eyes on the mirror, Kane splashed water on his face, feeling its coolness waking his pores like the first shock of winter. He stood there for a while, splashing water over his face and feeling it enliven his tired skin. There was something there, in his eye. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it there, like a deadweight tucked behind the socket.
Kane leaned forward, bringing his hand up to his face and pulling down the flesh beneath his left eye, gazing at himself until he blinked. There was nothing there. Just tiredness. Tiredness weighing him down.
ROSALIA WAS SHOWN to a guest room by one of the Tigers of Heaven, a narrow-shouldered man defined by his erect poise and the katana blade sheathed at his hip. After pulling back the paper door, he bowed curtly to the woman and left her, assuring he would provide anything she required—she need only ask.
Rosalia pulled the door closed and made her way to the bed, sitting on its side before lying back to gaze at the ceiling. Her dog sniffed at the door and the creamy white walls of the room, licking at the paper sheets that made up the sides of the room.
“Stupid mutt,” Rosalia muttered, shaking her head in irritation. The dog had become her familiar companion in recent months, yet she had little time for the beast, whose purpose and reasoning seemed at best contrary and at worst nonsensical.
She lay on the bed and pushed back the left sleeve of her shadow suit, searching for the little scarlike ridge that was all but hidden on her skin. Rosalia ran her finger along the inside of her wrist until she felt it, the little bump that indicated the presence of her obedience stone. It was an infiltrator in her body, a souvenir from the brutal attempt to indoctrinate her into the cult of Ullikummis.
The stone had remarkable properties that made Rosalia retain it, including acting as a key for specific doors relating to the Ullikummis faction, and hiding her presence from other indoctrinated worshippers of the stone god. However, the thing worked like a parasite, fueled by her own body, drawing blood to keep itself alive. Unchecked, it would spread tendrils within her body, take control of her mind and make her see the world in a different manner, and so she had to keep a steady watch on it.
As her dog settled itself on the floor, turning around three times before finally lying in a spot close to the door, Rosalia reached for her jacket and pulled out a portable sewing kit, its fabric case no longer than her ring finger. She unfolded the casing, pulling out one of the long sewing needles that resided within. Then, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, the beautiful dark-haired Latino plunged the tip of the needle into her wrist and began to work it in a tiny circle, probing for the vampiric stone that had buried itself in the flesh that ran alongside her ulna bone.
ALONE FOR THE FIRST time in more than a week, Grant left Lakesh to sort out the details while he made use of the bath that rested in an en suite arrangement off the master bedroom he would share with Shizuka. The bath was a vast circular bowl, finished in white and set at the same level as the floor, a mixer faucet at its edge. He filled it with steaming water, stripped and dipped beneath its surface, letting its warm embrace soothe his aching muscles. His body was immensely powerful, all muscle with not an ounce of fat, a few old scars puckering his mahogany flesh. This wasn’t just the first time he had been alone in more than a week; it felt like the first time he had been off his feet in all that time. His knees had cracked as he sank into the bath, and he was all too aware of the kink in his back muscles.
“I’m getting too old for all this running around,” Grant grumbled to the empty room, sinking back into the bathwater. He was only a few years older than Kane and had always been stronger than him, but there were occasions when he envied Kane’s speed and enthusiasm just a little. Lately, however, Kane’s enthusiasm seemed to be waning; the man was clearly grieving for their missing companion, Brigid Baptiste.
Grant lay in the bath, the water still running from the faucet, allowing his thoughts to drift along with the eddies of the water, until the door slid back on its runners and Shizuka came to join him on whispering feet.
Grant peered over his shoulder, watching Shizuka shuffle into the room on her wooden sandals until she stood in front of him. She bowed once in acknowledgment, her face emotionless.
“You need me out there?” Grant asked. “I kind of lost track of time. How long have I been here?”
“No,” Shizuka assured him. “Lakesh and I have agreed upon the essential workability of the project now, and Lakesh is putting together his plans so that he can call upon and gather your people.”
“Oh,” Grant said. Being on the run with Kane and Rosalia, it had become easy to forget that they were part of a larger organization. He had grown accustomed, however briefly, to calling the shots without worrying about the rest of the team. His thoughts brightened as he admired Shizuka properly for the first time since they had arrived at her winter vacation palace. “Still as beautiful as ever,” Grant observed, “only more so than I ever can actually remember.”
Shizuka smiled timidly, her silky black hair falling over her face for a moment as she leaned forward. Then she ran one of her delicate hands through the bathwater, letting it play through her widespread fingers. “It’s getting cold,” she said.
“It’s been a while since I got to do this,” Grant said. “Hot or cold doesn’t come into it awful much.”
Making her way around the edge of the sunken bath, Shizuka adjusted the mixer faucet, turning its trickle back into a gush until it ran steaming hot, replenishing Grant’s bath with warmth. She was closer to his head now, in line with his chest, and she peered openly at his face for a half minute.
“Something on your mind?” Grant asked finally.
Shizuka stroked her hand across her own chin, holding his gaze. “You look different,” she said, meaning his beard.
“It’s a new world out there,” Grant told her, “more dangerous than it’s ever been before. Ullikummis and his followers have got a mad-on for Cerberus—me and Kane especially. Not had much time to stay neat and tidy, but I figure it doesn’t hurt to change my appearance a little, just to keep them on their toes so they don’t know quite who they’re looking for.”
Shizuka reached forward and, very gently, ran her fingertips through the hair of Grant’s scalp. The sensation made his head tingle, and he felt suddenly relaxed, as if he could fall asleep at any moment. “I like the beard,” Shizuka told him with simplicity.
Grant closed his eyes, languishing in the warmer water that was topping up the bath. “It’s good of you to do this for us,” he said. “For Cerberus, I mean. It could bring down a shedload of problems on your house, you know.”
“I know,” Shizuka whispered, her voice close to his ear.
Grant sighed, the images of the past few weeks playing across his closed eyelids. “We didn’t see it coming,” was all he said, deep resignation in his voice.
Then Grant felt a movement beside him, and when he opened his eyes Shizuka was right next to him, stripped naked and dipping herself into the wide pool of the bath beside him. He smiled, pulling his arm around her and leaning in to kiss her gently on her rose-petal lips. They kissed for a while, with increasing urgency as they rediscovered one another in the flowing waters of the bath. When they were done, Shizuka pulled away, resting her hands on Grant’s broad chest.
“Grant?” Shizuka asked. “You said that you and Kane were wanted by this Ullikummis thing and his followers. But what about Brigid? Kane never travels without her, and you rarely travel without him. Is she in hiding? Have things become so bad that the three of you have had to split up so as not to be recognized?”
Grant shook his head, and suddenly it seemed as though all the life had left him. “Brigid’s missing,” he said. “She disappeared during the assault on Cerberus. We haven’t seen her since. We tried tracking her by the transponder implant,” he explained, referring to the subcutaneous transponder that had been injected beneath Brigid’s skin. It should have been instantly traceable via the Cerberus mainframe anywhere on Earth. “It seemed to have been switched off or blocked somehow. Lakesh has people working on it.”
“If the transponder is no longer broadcasting,” Shizuka said, “could that mean that Brigid is…?” She stopped, either unable or unwilling to state her fear aloud.
“No,” Grant said, shaking his head wearily. “Kane thinks he’d know somehow if Brigid was dead. Says their anam-chara link would warn him.”
The nature of the anam-chara had never been fully explained, but in essence it meant that Kane and Brigid were soul friends, mystically bonded throughout eternity, ever vigilant for the other’s well-being. Some assumed it meant they were destined to be lovers, too, though Kane and Brigid had discouraged such speculation, preferring to keep their own counsel on the matter.
