Anaz-Voohri (13 page)

Lord McDougall and Dr. Devertas met Kavak and her aide as they reached the ground in front of the mansion.

McDougall bowed, holding his monocle. “Welcome to my humble home, Exalted Leader.”

Good thing he didn’t offer his hand, like the first time they’d met. Kavak didn’t like the feel of human skin, so warm, moist and organic.
Thoroughly repulsive.
“As long as you keep providing me with your wonderful spirits, you are my favorite person on this planet, McDougall.”

Devertas cleared his throat as if vying for attention.
“This way, Exalted Leader.
Our Eastern Cell is assembled and eager to meet you. It’s such a great honor to receive you among us.”

As she followed the two men toward the mansion, Kavak sensed their curiosity and their fright. She could use that fear to ascertain the hybrids’ loyalty. They opened the door for her.

McDougall twirled his moustache, no doubt from anxiety. “Let me introduce you first, Exalted Leader, as we do for people of importance in our culture.”

 
“I will conform." Kavak liked decorum and rejoiced at the thought of making a grand entrance. All charismatic leaders used that stratagem.

McDougall entered the ballroom and Kavak heard him addressing the assembled hybrids, introducing her as their benefactor and friend from the Pleiades system. Then McDougall stated her name and title, and the door opened wide.

As Kavak floated inside, strange but dignified music filled the air. The crowd of hybrids parted to make a wide straight path from the door to the podium at the opposite end of the ballroom. They looked frighteningly human, all young, neat, handsome in a human kind of way, and disturbingly hairy. The hybrids applauded noisily, a nasty human habit that offended Kavak’s ears, but she didn’t show her annoyance. Excitement animated their faces as Kavak crossed the room, followed by her aide who didn’t float but walked, to indicate his lower rank.

Kavak wanted to make a grandiose first impression. She wanted to be feared and respected, but she also wanted to elicit enthusiasm and devotion to her cause. When she reached the podium, her aide stationed himself at the front edge and to the side, as any bodyguard would do, looking over the assembled hybrids with circumspection.

From the podium, Kavak hovered a little higher and stared at the crowd of upturned faces. She estimated two hundred hybrids. These men and women in their thirties were the result of the first Anaz-voohri intervention in human experiments. Their faces expressed pure awe and admiration.

“Greetings from the Pleiades."
Kavak projected her voice to be heard at the other end of the crowded ballroom.

The hybrids hushed, and all except her aide stared at Kavak.

“Over thirty years ago, we came to this planet and started our hybrid program by fertilizing your mothers’ wombs. You are the chosen ones, part human and part Anaz-voohri, the hope for the future of your planet and of our two races. You all look perfectly human, but you are far more advanced than any human in every way. Be proud to be hybrids, for you are the beloved children of the Anaz-voohri, and we will treat you as such.”

A sigh filled the silence, as if some great weight had just been lifted.

Kavak allowed herself a smile. Her strategy was working. “As a reward for helping us in our endeavor to bring higher civilization to this planet, you will enjoy an unlimited life span, immunity to human diseases, and the great honor of providing the seed for the future Anaz-voohri children." Kavak paused, observing the hybrids’ reaction.

Seemingly shocked into silence at first, they soon warmed up to the idea and applauded again.
Nothing like the promise of eternal life to foster loyalty.
It always worked for religious leaders through the ages.

“We already have hybrids in high places." Kavak recognized a bishop wearing a white collar and the shepherd cross on his lapel. Then she nodded to a young Major in uniform. “Since you have superior intelligence and physical skills, it is your sacred duty to become the best in your field and infiltrate,
then
take control of all branches of government, major industries, and religious groups in this powerful nation. We have hybrids in every country of this planet, working for us as you do, but America is the most powerful and holds the key to our success.”

“What if we prefer not to help?" A young blond man with startling blue eyes marched toward the podium, showing no fear.

Kavak sensed anger and threat in his mind, and so did her bodyguard, who moved to the front of the podium.

Devertas barred the protestor’s way, but the man shoved him aside.

Kavak’s aide fired. The protestor’s body vaporized into a cloud of ashes that fluttered down to the smooth stone floor, like dry snowflakes.

Cries of shock and surprise surged, but quickly hushed. Kavak felt the terror emanating from many in the room, but refrained from smiling.

When her aide stepped aside and returned to his place, Kavak sighed, loud enough to be heard in the shocked silence.
“Any other discontents?”

No one so much as breathed.

“Good." Kavak now smiled to soften the mood. “We’ll have to weed out those of you holding doubt in their minds. It is your duty to report such disloyal elements to Dr. Devertas." Kavak forced another smile. “Now let’s celebrate our alliance." She turned to McDougall. “Now would be a good time for one of your sublime drinks.”

McDougall winked. “I have just the thing, Exalted Leader." He brought her a glass filled with an unfamiliar blue liquid and handed it to her.
“One of my best so far.
I call it Blue Heaven."

The hybrids lifted their own glasses in a toast “To the Anaz-voohri!”

Kavak motioned to her aide, who discreetly analyzed the drink, not that primitive poison would affect the Anaz-voohri, but just in case. After tasting the liquor, he smiled wide and nodded approval.

Kavak raised her glass.
“To our fruitful cooperation.
Together we will succeed. Let’s win this planet and avoid bloodshed."

She lied about bloodshed, of course. The Anaz-voohri thrived on bloodshed, but there would be time for that later. She tasted the sweet liqueur that glided down her polymer pipes, sizzling deliciously and warming her synthetic blood. “I’ll take a few cases of this nectar, McDougall.”

McDougall beamed at the compliment. “Certainly, Exalted Leader. As many as you like.”

Kavak tapped her glass with a long sharp nail and the room grew quiet again. “Now, the moment you have been waiting for." She paused to keep them waiting just a little longer. “Bring forth the adoptive parents.”

Six couples and a single mother gathered in the center of the room.

Kavak still had her doubts about the missing father, the human exception. Devertas had better be right about his bright political future. “You are the chosen parents who will go home tonight with a special child, a girl who will precipitate our takeover when she reaches maturity. And until then, you will groom that child in the skills required for her particular task. Never forget that these girls are human and totally unaware of the mission programmed into their DNA. All their memories have been erased."

When Kavak sent a pulse to her communicator, the windows flew open and several beams of light slanted inside the ballroom. In a general gasp, the hybrids vacated the center of the room where the beams converged. Only the adoptive parents remained close.

The seven girls, floated down toward the circle of parents. Now ages four to thirteen, all dressed in purple and pink pajamas, they lay asleep in mid air. They leveled off four feet above the floor, lovely in sleepy abandon, their names glittering above their heads.

“I give you the Pleiades sisters,” Kavak said, imitating the phrasing McDougall had used to introduce her. “Each adoptive couple will take their pre-assigned child to their new home. When they awake in the morning, they will have no recollection of who they are, so you can feed them the memories you prepared for them. If they give you any trouble, consult Dr. Devertas.”

Proud of herself, Kavak watched the parents carry the children out of the ballroom,
then
she smiled to McDougall.
“How about another glass of this delicious drink?
Blue Heaven, is it?”

Chapter Nine

Army
Aviation School
, Ft Rucker, Alabama –
Fall
2006

Zack stepped out of his TH-67 helicopter simulator and landed lightly onto the hangar floor. Although the inside of the simulator looked exactly like a cockpit, the exterior resembled a giant white egg with no windows, blades, or tail. Zack grinned to the instructor coming to meet him. “How’d I do?"

The instructor nodded as he applied the stylus to his electronic notepad, epad for short. A printed sheet came out of the attached razor printer and he handed it to Zack. “The best beginning student I ever had, Lieutenant. You really have a feel for this.”

Zack took the sheet and glanced at it. Perfect score in instrument flying procedures, ground emergencies, in-flight emergencies, and weapon accuracy. “Thanks. I love that stuff. Great visual display, too. It’s like being there."

Five simulator eggs away, Lieutenant Tia Vargas stared at her score sheet, frowning.

The instructor slapped Zack’s shoulder. “Tomorrow, we’ll get you into a live bird.”

“Awesome." Zack’s heart raced with excitement. Who’d have guessed he’d ever pilot a helicopter?

Tia crumpled her score sheet and threw it in a trash can. She stormed out of the hangar into the Alabama sun, bright and warm even in early spring.

Zack squinted against the glare. “What’s with her?”

The instructor shrugged. “She did okay, but she seemed distracted.”

Zack wondered what could possibly distract the cool Tia Vargas.
“Got to go.
Black Hawk maintenance training."
He ran out to catch up with Tia. “Hey! What’s wrong?”

She didn’t slow down, didn’t glance at him,
just
kept walking. “I sucked.”

“The instructor said you did fine." Zack matched her quick steps.

“Average is not fine.”

Zack shrugged. “Hey! You can’t excel at everything all the time.”

“You don’t understand. I always do." Tia stopped and faced him, her deep brown eyes sparkling with anger. “Where I come from you don’t settle for average.”

Zack resisted the urge to smile at such pride. Who’d guessed the Lieutenant to be so touchy under the tough-girl
act.
“With one more training session, you’ll pass easy.”

“It’s not good enough." Tia bit her lower lip. “As a woman officer, I have to be the best. Besides, perfection is my trademark.”

“You never failed anything in your life?”

Her face remained screwed tight.
“Never...before today.”

“These are high standards to uphold." Zack attempted a smile.
“Maybe too high.”

“They are mine, okay?”

Zack shook his head. He remembered when he'd been promoted from Second Lieutenant to Lieutenant. He had to cheer her up then as well. “Listen. It’s our weaknesses that make us human. Not allowing yourself to fail now could set you up for a disaster later in life." Zack knew his philosophical views didn’t really align with military doctrine. “You didn’t fail today.”

“It’s just as bad, I didn’t win." She looked devastated. “Tomorrow you get to fly for
real,
and all I get is more simulator training.”

Although Tia was three years older and had combat experience, Zack saw her vulnerable side and felt compelled to reassure her. “Ah, but I had the unfair advantage.”

“How so?"
Tia’s face lit up with surprise and hope.

“I’ve been flying helicopters on my videogames since I was ten.”

“Really?"
Her face relaxed. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”

“I wouldn’t think of it." It was a lie, of course. Zack couldn’t stand to see her down and gladly made it up just to see her smile.

They started toward the next hangar where several teams busied themselves around half a dozen helicopters in various stages of disassembly.

The instructor spotted Zack and Tia as they walked in. “You two, get some coveralls and take this bird. Yesterday we disassembled, today we reassemble. Start cleaning each moving part and rebuild the bird according to the manual. I want everything in top shape."

Zack and Tia grabbed olive drab coveralls from the pile on a bench and quickly donned them over their uniforms.

The instructor addressed all the teams. “The army’s fleet of Black Hawk helicopters, some dating as far as the 1970's, requires much maintenance to keep flying, as you can see.”

The retired Black Hawk assigned to Zack and Tia looked like a pile of junk, assembled and disassembled so many times by the inexpert hands of trainees. Zack hoped no one would ever fly it again.