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Authors: Stéphane Desienne

BOOK: Toxic
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His dialect was closer to a guttural rumbling than a language.

“They say that the Primark gives a bonus to soldiers who have finished their contract.”

In reality, the emissary neglected to add, very few of them completed their service in one piece. Working for a Primark implied risks and misfortune was one of them. However, this elite society of survivors was enough to maintain the legend and, most importantly, to start careers. The mercenary companies remained large consumers of manpower.

“When I’m done my commitment, I’m going to pay for my seat on the administration council of a small planetary combinate,” Kuhn continued. “I’ll become a respectable prelate and will spend my time developing a good business portfolio.”

That was a story well-loved by the societies of the Commercial Collective.

“I hope you do.”

“And you? You’re a Lynian and you work for a multi-planetary combinate. What are you doing in this lost little hole with us?”

“I go where they tell me to go to solve problems.”


Haj!
You were promised a percentage of sales if you discovered a cure against the virus that is fucking with our merchandise.”

The practice reflected the current norms. Many counselors or special agents benefited from similar arrangements to supplement their fees.

“You’re well informed,” Jave merely responded.

“The reptilian officers are mocking us from under their rocks. Because they’re afraid of ice delirium, I’m taking advantage of the situation to be alone with you.”

“What do you want?”

Kuhn hesitated. His massive hands trembled on a knee which was a large as a human head.

“Are you going to find the antidote?”

The Kathari was worried about his end of contract bonus. That explained the present conversation: he was testing out the ground looking for insurance.

“The reward, in the case of success, is a very good motivation.”

Even though it remained difficult to perceive the facial micro-expressions under the tuft of hair covering the Kathari’s face, Jave made out a glimmer of satisfaction in his black eyes.

 

After half an octain of minutes in flight, the T-J started its trail of condensation towards the pure blue and almost crystalline Antarctic sky. The metal insect plunged towards the ocean. It leveled up above the frozen waves and then flew along a chain of volcanoes just below the snowy tips to hide its approach. Kuhn and Jave verified their materials for one last time while awaiting the opening of the cargo ramp. The swarm of robotic drones, sent as a recon, was already moving around the site in the corner between the sea and the mountains. They maintained sufficient distance to assure maximum discretion. The scouts transmitted their information onto a narrow, encrypted beam.

According to the reports dating to the invasion, humans had established scientific bases on the southern continent. The tera-servers mentioned a treaty that prohibited its exploration for commercial or military reasons, a reason that would likely explain the disinterest of the mercenaries for a region lacking a large quantity of healthy products in the end. Jave observed the shacks, which were scattered like boils on a dirty carpet. He counted several caterpillar vehicles and two boats stuck in the ice. There didn’t seem to be signs of activity there, which was contradicted by the scanners locked onto the heat stains inside the three buildings connected by flexible airlocks.

“Nobody outside,” Kuhn confirmed. “That will make our job easier.”

Their Squil pilot told them to be on guard. “They could use individual firearms. We must neutralize them.”

Shoot first, discuss later. That was how it was with the mercenaries.

“Only sonics,” Jave reminded them.


Haj!

The Kathari jumped down into the open from the ramp.

 

After a free fall, Jave flew over the snowy ground until reaching the facilities. He saw brief blue sparks through the windows of the metal shacks. Kuhn, after having cut a large opening, hunted the humans inside. He heard the screams. Shots resounded from the shacks. In a few moments, everything was over and the alien victory was total. Silence came back to the site. The Kathari came out of a dwelling and started to cut it with the help of his vibroblade to expose its interior. That way, it would be easier to inspect the contents.

Jave approached him. Even through his exoskeleton, he felt the cold, which was trying to make a way through to bite his flesh. As a reaction, his rootlets retracted and his pores closed. He bent down to pick up the snow and appreciate its texture.

The T-J landed on a platform designed to hold airships. The Squil joined them as fast as possible.

“Good! Let’s find that transmitter.”

In addition to his qualifications as a pilot and his soldier’s training, he had a skill coveted by mercenary companies raiding their holdings. He was an expert in primo-engineering. While the robots extracted the sleeping bodies, he got started at exploring the premises meticulously, sweeping the burst open spaces with his enormous gray eyes. His four upper limbs touched objects. Jave helped him move segments, with their edges still red, to allow for a quick and efficient search. Shelves and cupboards fell over – some of them literally cut in two – and spread their contents onto the same snow. The bundles of paper documents didn’t interest them. They had come here to get their claws on the transmitter.

They went about visiting several smoking sections like this. Jave remarked black impact marks on the walls. All of a sudden, the Squil stopped his movements right away.


Zir, argen ios
!”

He moved his tentacles covered with thermo-regulated tissue. The apparatus responsible for this sudden excitement, placed on a table, was made up of two parts linked by the edge and a sort of panel covered with buttons. The response, sent by the tera-servers following his request, told the Lynian that it was a type of computer. The expert examined it with care and then connected it to a portable generator. Under his eyes, the pre-tech machine emitted a beep and its screen lit up.

Jave shared his surprise.

“How is that possible?”

“I don’t know. On the other hand, this isn’t what we’re looking for.”

As an echo of his thoughts, Kuhn appeared. “Over here,” he yelled.

Right away, the Squil jumped with the help of his agrav repulsors.

When Jave arrived in turn, he looked regretfully at the sheet of wood on which the glass tubes were fixed. A dial with a graduated scale and a black button adorned the front of the oxidized metal. The machine was very pre-tech in any case. The pilot confirmed that this was the transmitter.

“Does it work?” Kuhn asked.

The Squil connected his generator and let his verdict be known after a few movements. A static noise came out of the archaic communication apparatus.

“Absolutely. It’s primitive but completely operational. This converter controls the movement of the needle until obtaining the desired wavelength. This button here,” he pointed with one of his tentacles, “turns it onto broadcast mode.”

“I thought the EMP bombs had destroyed these devices.”

“The electromagnetic charges fry electronic components based on semi-conductors as well as electric generators, but that technology is useless on vacuum tubes, those little bulbs you see there.”

Jave moved closer. He had never seen anything so rustic. One detail caught his attention. “And the writing on the glass?”

The Squil unfolded his flexible screen and moved it above the radio. He then presented an enlarged image. The emissary reacted right away, recognizing the writing.

“Russian.”

“I imagine that it doesn’t have any memory.”

“Obviously not. The messages sent are lost forever except for their receivers.”

“No way of tracing what they said to each other; that’s convenient,” the Kathari grumbled.

“They saved resources and supplies to hold out here as long as possible. They’re tough, more so than reptilians, to hold up against such a cold, isn’t that right?” the pilot joked.

The Lynian pointed to an area where wood crosses were erected.

“Not all of them. Some of them didn’t survive. Humans bury their dead and put these signs over the graves.”

“Yeah, I already saw. Strange custom.”

Kuhn moved between them. “The Primark wants to know what they’re doing here. We need to get answers.”

For the first time, the emissary used his prerogatives. “I’ll take care of questioning the prisoners.”

“Really? Why?”

“I speak their language.”

He made a point that didn’t suffer from any discussion. He noticed the Kathari’s annoyance under his layer of fur.

 


Miniya zavout
Jave,” the Lynian started, conscious of the terror in the eyes of his interlocutor.

Many humans liked tea. That worked out well, as he was an expert on plants. The Lynian requested the assistance of a mini-drone that came back with a can. After a quick preparation, he handed a steaming bowl to the Russian. The latter hadn’t managed to take his gaze off of the claws and strange anatomy foreign to their local norms. The lack of nose or ears, his slightly squished head, his greenish-colored skin and his pores, which looked like buds, most definitely caused him disgust.

“I’m a vegetable being,” Jave continued. “I know that my physiognomy may shock you.”

The important thing with the representatives of this species was to never lose sound contact. Their voice conveyed the essential aspects of their emotions. As he spoke, he caught the man’s attention and could even lead him to forget about his condition and give him a bit of confidence. He was a scientist, a mind accustomed to seeing beyond appearances.

The human managed to express himself after a few minutes, the time it took him to get heated back up and to put himself together after the trauma of the attack of the troopers that looked like metallic monsters. He gave in and stated his name and position.

“I’m Sergei Loubienko, a PhD in arctic biology from the University of Saint Petersburg. I... I was posted here before... the invasion or infection. We haven’t heard news from the
rodina
for months. Are you the invaders?”

Jave avoided the question.

“Who built the radio? Was it you?”

“No. Ivan put it together from an old supply of detached parts.”

“Who is Ivan?”

The Russian kept his mouth closed. He didn’t want to point out a comrade in case they thought him a traitor. The Lynian brought out his next point.

“The computer. How is it that it’s working?”

“I comes from Vostok station. That’s where all of them come from. We came back to the coast. We’ve been stuck here for more than a year and a half, more or less. I don’t know anymore.”

Jave unfolded his flexible screen and pulled up a card. Sergei pointed to a point close to the pole.

“So, you left your base?”

The human drank a sip of the tea.

“We understood that something was not quite right after losing our satellite uplinks. The breakdown affected our generators and all of the technological materials. We couldn’t stay there. Without energy we were at risk of dying. We evacuated after several weeks of trying to get the facilities back up and running.”

“But the computer is running.”

“It was under repair, I think.”

That seemed plausible to him, but at the same time very troubling. The emissary excused himself and joined the Squil, who was studying the radio.

“It’s possible that so close to the pole, the bombs have had less of an effect. There are always losses along the lobes of magnetic fields.”

“A little?”

“Around two octiams,” the expert estimated. “I’d need more information to give you a correct evaluation. If it wasn’t turned on at that time, maybe the microwaves wouldn’t have damaged it so much. The preliminary examination of the machine shows that it had been reinforced.”

Upon returning, an individual stepped in his way. He took off the hood that was covering his copper-colored hair around an emaciated and tired face. His strikingly blue eyes resembled those of ocean moons without clouds.

“I’m Ivan.”

“Good,” Jave said. “You built the radio, right?”


Da
. I’m an engineer.”

“Who did you send messages to?”

The Russian spat onto the ground, which the emissary interpreted as an insult if he could count on human behavior customs. His reaction surprised Ivan, who was rooted to the spot, terrorized.

The Lynian grabbed him by the throat and carried him like that across more than a hundred meters until reaching the T-J. The Russian tried to free himself in vain. Jave flattened him against the cabin.

“Your world doesn’t exist anymore. There’s only infected left walking around the cities and desolate lands.”

“I...”

“You’re all going to die.”


Da
... I...”

The Lynian held him harder. Ivan’s face took on a violet color.

“The only way to get out of this is to give me information. Who did you contact with the radio?”

Jave released him and Ivan curled up on the frozen ground. He leaned forward and swallowed.

“Answer my question,” the Lynian shot at him.

The Squil and the Kathari hadn’t missed any parts of the altercation.


Da
... I’m the coordinator of a desperate planetary defense network. I came to Vostok shortly before the invasion with a computer protected against rays and old transmission materials. I could provide you information in exchange for my life and that of my companions. We just want to see the
rodina
and our families again.

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