Anaz-Voohri (22 page)

“
Madre de Dios
!
What happened?”

“We think it’s a biological agent. The ship appeared out of nowhere and just hovered in place. The journalists started filming. After several warnings, the troops, ours and our enemies, started firing at it with no result. Then the ship sprayed a cloud of gas.”

“Dear God." Tia stared at the images of sheer carnage.

“When the image cleared, all the soldiers had collapsed, so had the journalists, but the cameras kept recording. As far as we can tell, they are all dead. These images are now streaming live all over the world, on TV networks and on the Internet.”

“What have we done?" Tia couldn’t help but think it was a reprisal for the raid on the weapon’s cache.

“The whole area has been quarantined." The General obviously misinterpreted Tia’s question. “We have no idea what we are dealing with. Only one thing is sure, it’s the Anaz-voohri. They’ve just taken the offensive and we have no recourse against them."

“This is retaliation for taking their weapons, isn’t it?”

“It looks like it.”

“How many are estimated dead?" After Zack’s sacrifice, Tia couldn’t take anymore bad news.

“Hard to tell at this point, we don’t know how many square miles are affected by the gas or how long it will hang there, or whether it will travel to other areas. Including the civilian population and the rebel troops, there could be over fifty thousand dead.”

Tia couldn’t believe what her team’s last raid had triggered. “This is an abomination.”

“The world leaders are on their way to London to discuss the formation of a global security sector, an international organization for the protection of the planet against alien invaders.”

“That fast?" Tia couldn’t believe such a swift response.

The General clucked his tongue. “Let’s say it was already in the works. They just made it their top priority.”

“It’s about time." Tia still stared at the screen, transfixed. “We are going to need all the help we can get.”

“After the briefing, as soon as we know more, you will take command of Captain Duncan’s unit." The General raised his brow. “I promoted you to Captain. From the information in your report, I understand he’s not coming back.”

Unable to speak, Tia only saluted. She had to keep fighting, for Zack, for the helpless people of this world. It might keep her mind off her own guilt, although she doubted it. Maybe she would die in battle, solving all her problems at once.

Chapter Fifteen

One year later, 2010, in a military hospital in Virginia

“Damn!" Zack moaned as the door opened and he lay helpless on his stomach. Stuck to his hospital bed, his mind in a constant fog from the medications, unable to even lie on his back, he had lost control of his miserable existence.

The female doctor smiled as she entered Zack’s room. “How are you this morning?"

Why did it have to be the pretty blonde? How humiliating. As she went to the other side of the bed, Zack could have turned his head but preferred not to face her. “Life sucks.”

She pulled back the sheet and her cold latex-gloved hands probed the newly grafted skin on his back. “It’s healing nicely.”

Despite the tenderness of his shoulders, Zack managed not to flinch under her touch. Her hands probed further down. With no feelings below the waist, Zack wondered how much of his anatomy she explored. He probably looked like a repulsive patchwork of scar tissue. Even the skin on the back of his legs had been replaced.

“It’s a splendid spring day outside!" Why did she flaunt her obvious happiness at him?

Zack snorted. “It’s just another freaking morning,” he mumbled, unable to keep his anger in check. “Nothing good will come of it, trust me. Our lives are just a bad joke designed to amuse the Almighty, even yours."

How many times had Zack dreamed of ending his life since he’d awakened from his coma? He couldn’t count.

The latex gloves snapped as the doctor removed them. “The last grafts are doing fine, and I think it’s now safe to rest on your back, even sit up, if the new skin doesn’t feel too tight.”

Zack grunted. “Should I thank you or something?”

“It’s great news." The Doctor came back into his field of view and smiled. “You’ll now be able to read, or use a computer.”

“Big deal."
How could Zack rejoice about that? “Now I can look people in the eyes and see their pity when they look at me.”

“Nonsense.
No one pities you here." The doctor went to the door, peeked outside and motioned to someone in the hallway. Two sturdy medics rushed in and she directed them to the bed. “Turn this patient over and prop him up.”

The medics moved Zack with great care and he saw for the first time the ceiling and the back wall of his hospital room. It was painted various shades of blue in wide geometrical patterns.

Zack also realized he was shamefully naked. Fortunately, his frontal skin still looked as it should, but his legs had lost their muscle tone. When the medics bent him over to insert pillows behind his back, Zack cried out from the sudden pull on the skin.

“Still painful?
Would you like me to increase your pain medication?" The doctor reached into her breast pocket and pulled out her epad.

“About that,” Zack winced then paused, wondering how to formulate his request. “That stuff messes up my brain. Don’t you have anything less... debilitating?”

The doctor arched her pretty brow. “It’s your choice, but the non-drowsy pain killers will not be as effective.”

“I have to start somewhere if I ever want to get out of here, don’t I?”

“Does that mean you feel ready to start physical therapy?" Why did she have to look so happy all the time?

“I might as well make the most of what I have left,” Zack lied. He intended to end his mockery of a life, but he wouldn’t be able to do it lying helpless in a bed. He needed to regain some kind of mobility. And in order to end his existence with dignity, Zack was willing to go through the trials of upper body re-education.

The doctor dispatched the medics with one wave of the hand. “We’ll need to exercise and rebuild the muscles of your back, arms, hands and fingers. Then we’ll work on your upper arm and shoulder strength with bench presses. We’ll teach you how to move to compensate for the dead weight of your hips and legs, so you can turn in bed and crawl, and get in and out of your wheelchair without any help.”

“Whatever it takes."
The word crawl evoked images of a worm. That’s what Zack had become, a worm.

“If you are serious about this, I’ll make a request for one of the new experimental wheelchairs. You’d be the perfect candidate. It has an integrated personal computer, complete autonomy of roaming including climbing stairs, communicators, internet, satellite TV, radio and GPS access at your fingertips.”

Zack whistled, faking an enthusiasm he did not feel. “That’ll come handy with all the social life I have left,” he railed, not up to the happy thing, although such a chair would make his suicide easier. “Super-duper wheelchairs are real babe magnets."

“Maybe more than you think." The doctor pocketed her epad. “We’ll start this afternoon." She grabbed the laptop from the bedside table and laid it on the bed next to him. “Here. Knock yourself out." Then she left him alone in the room.

Zack stared at the laptop. He could find out about Tia’s whereabouts. He’d been told she’d survived the explosion, but he hadn’t heard from her, not even once. He worried about her, but he harbored no illusions about their relationship. Obviously she didn’t love him enough to put herself through the inconvenience of taking care of a disabled ex-soldier, and he couldn’t blame her.

Zack pushed the laptop aside. At twenty six, he had gone from hero and protector of the human race to a total
burden,
even to the woman he loved. At least the doctors had been honest with him. Zack knew there was no hope and he only had a few years to live anyway. And since he refused to spend the rest of his days in a drug-induced dream, he would have to bear the brunt of the agony until the merciful end. But he didn’t intend to linger in a society that idolized fitness and beauty. He would forever be considered an object of pity.

In the following weeks, Zack struggled in physical therapy and kept tabs on Tia through military websites. She’d made Captain, and her unit had done well. He couldn’t find any details about her missions, although she gathered praises and even had her picture in several military publications.

Zack could probably contact her through the Armed Forces, but chose not to. Inadequate as a man, useless as a lover, he had no right to impose his love upon her. Tia could do better than a crippled ex-soldier. She had already moved on, and with the enemy at the gate, she had duties to perform. She’d be better off if he just vanished from her existence.

As Zack
surfed
the Net to keep his mind off the pain and catch up with all the momentous events he’d missed during his prolonged coma, someone knocked at the door.

“Door’s open,” he yelled with impatience. Since when did the staff bother to knock?

When the General in charge of the Anaz-voohri counterattack walked in, Zack frowned and closed his laptop.

The older man flashed a jovial smile. “I hear your physical therapy is going well and you are learning to use that special chair we assigned you.”

“Is that what you came for? Hear me thank you for the chair? Forget it.”

The General chuckled. “Actually, I came on behalf of the whole administration to convey their gratitude over the success of your last mission.”

“You mean my very last mission." Zack couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice.

“But a very successful mission, in which you demonstrated uncommon valor."
The General pulled out of his pocket a navy-blue velvet case, opened it and solemnly presented it to Zack.
“On behalf of your country, grateful for your heroism.
Congratulations, Captain." He saluted.

Automatically, Zack straightened his pain-ridden back and saluted, bemused.
“A medal?
You’re giving me a medal?" Zack shook his head. “And that’s supposed to make up for being paralyzed?" He knew he was unfair but couldn’t help it.

“I know it’s not much..." The General paced, as if reluctant to speak. “I also have a request.”

What could anyone possibly want from Zack now? “You can’t be serious! My abilities are rather limited. I don’t think I’m in any position to grant anything.”

The General stopped pacing and faced him. “I’m offering you a job.”

“A job?"
A nervous laugh escaped Zack’s lips. “Do I look to you like I can hold a job?”

“Your doctors assure me that you’ll soon be completely mobile." The General wasn’t laughing. “And your brain, your knowledge, your memories are intact. Isn’t that right?”

“Son-of-a-bitch!
That’s why you gave me the super-duper chair?" Zack couldn’t believe how callous the military could be. “Did my doctors tell you that I am on constant pain killers? Even so, the ache never stops, and I don’t have the luxury to be civil anymore. I have become a total pain in the ass, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“Listen,” The General went to close the door, pulled up a chair then sat beside the bed. “We miss your knowledge, your special sense of the way our enemy thinks. More than ever the world needs alien experts, and you are still the best. We need you.”

“No offense, General, but now that the world has the Global Security Sector to take care of the Anaz-voohri problem, you don’t even have jurisdiction anymore.”

“On the contrary."
The General lowered his voice.
“The super-soldiers defending the hoard?
They are part of a new race we just discovered, half human and half alien. There are hundreds and possibly thousands of them, they look entirely human, and they work for the Anaz-voohri.”

“Jesus Christ! We are finished.”

“At this time, we have no way of identifying these hybrids and The GSS is vulnerable to infiltration, so we are creating a new, smaller international organization, a secret one, with people of undisputable loyalty. This is an aggressive force to seek out and destroy any alien threat and target the hybrid spies helping the Anaz-voohri. Like the black ops section of the GSS, if you will. We’ll do the dirty work for them in the shadows." The General stared into Zack’s eyes with uncomfortable insistence. “We call this new organization ORION. Operational Readiness/Intelligence
On
Nations."

Why was the General telling him so much? Zack didn’t like it.
“ORION?
Like the constellation? And who else is in there?”

“Scientists, doctors, engineers, and special troops, of course.
We are also experimenting with new DNA research to create our own breed of super-soldiers.”

Zack whistled. Much had changed since he’d been out of commission.

“And thanks to reverse engineering, we are also very close to replicating their phase-guns.”