The Runaway Apexai (Chapter THREE is up!)

[Shroom Man 777]

A few notes:

Zigonians are reptilian aliens, kinda like velociraptors that have been a bit...humanized in their looks. Click here for more: LINK

Apexai are your stereotypical grey aliens, but are about as tall as humans. Click here for more: LINK

Hybrids are humans the Apexai created some time ago. Contrary to the name, the Hybrids don't have Apexai DNA, but have been a bit modified by the Apexai to have subtle traits that they like incorporated to humans. Click here for more: LINK (scroll down though)

This fic is a joint project between me and Peregrine Toker and is set in a sci-fi universe I've created with the help of Peregrine (and a few other cool folks). So kudos to Peregrine, a guy who's very awesome and who's honored me by helping me out here and there.

Enjoy the show.




PROLOGUE

25th of March 2570, New Memphis, Zigon-5, United Sovereignty of Earth.




Doctor Agni Sharamon sat alone in a deserted office with his hand-sized PDA and started up a nearby personal computer. Aside from the security guard, he was the only living soul in the building.

The building, officially owned and operated by GeNode, a local genetics company most famous for splicing tomatoes, actually belonged to Odin’s Eye, an elusive terrorist organization considered an urban legend by around 99% of the USE’s population. Odin’s Eye wasn’t your ordinary terrorist group either. Its exact purpose wasn’t entirely clear even to the CEID, but its agenda apparently involved the extermination of paleohumans (those Homo sapiens who could in no possible way qualify as metahumans) in order to pave the way for metahumans, Apexai Hybrids in particular. However, the Eye hated the Silver Shield even more than they hated paleohumans, presumably due to the Silver Shield being comprised of metahumans who did not consider paleohumans the scum of the universe and even going so far as to collaborate with the Central Earth Intelligence Department.

The vast majority of the Odin’s Eye members were Apexai Hybrids, but non-Hybrid metahumans also found their way into the group, likewise with the Silver Shield. Sharamon himself was a 4th generation Hybrid, though it was not visible to the naked eye except for his thinness and somewhat prominent eyes, but he was hardly a good example of the typical definition of a metahuman. He had no ‘special gifts’, but the fact that the Hybrids were the result of genetic tampering made him a metahuman by technicality.

His only skill was his talent in the field of genetics, which made him a prime candidate for Odin’s top-secret operation taking place within this particular facility. It had been six months since Odin had recruited him. It had also been three months to the day when a CEID agent contacted (or more accurately, abducted) him and ‘persuaded’ him to work under their employ. Currently, he was in the process of copying classified information into his PDA.

Running into a folder that was password-protected, Sharamon ‘plugged in’ his PDA via an area-based remote interfacing system, and then, using a password decryption program given to him by CEID, accessed it easily with just a few clicks on the keyboard. Finding the folder’s contents to be useful, he then copy-pasted the folder’s contents into his PDA. At the same time, the PDA started up the Comm.-Net and automatically opened the hypermail program. Sharamon then attached the files he just copied to a letter addressed to Synthia Macintosh, an AI that would forward the message to an anonymous CEID agent somewhere in the galaxy and would make sure that the information transfer never happened.

Sharamon then began typing a short message, asking Synthia how she was, inquiring about some long-lost friend or something and talking about ‘stuff’. The CEID agent who gave him the PDA instructed him to do so, just in case if Odin somehow managed to intercept the messages and attempt to decrypt them. The attachments would be so heavily encrypted that upon first sight, the attachments and their contents would actually look inconspicuous and without the specific tools one couldn’t tell whether they were even encrypted at all. That combined with the seemingly innocent message typed by Sharamon would make the entire thing seem unremarkable and trivial. Something even an AI would miss.

Multi-tasking, Sharamon found another item of interest, a document about psychotic mental derangement brought about by genetic degeneration. Remembering something important the CEID agent told him after his abduction, he decided to copy it and attach it to his message. There was another document, seemingly unrelated, it was about an Apexai, someone important. Sharamon decided to include that too.

Just as he finished his letter to Synthia, he heard footsteps coming from outside the office. How far away it was, he couldn’t tell. Most likely, the security guard was probably wondering what he was doing here so late, but the CEID agent also told him to take no chances, so he didn’t. After attaching the last of the copied documents, Sharamon sent his letter to Synthia and closed the holo-screen monitor of the computer. He tapped several hotkeys on the keyboard to begin shutdown and went to another computer, his own, on a terminal opposite to the one he was just on. He pressed a random button on the keyboard, killing the screensaver, and pretended to be busy.

The footsteps stopped and the door opened, Sharamon turned to see who it was.

“Good evening, Mr. Sharamon,” the voice was albeit odd, but Sharamon knew who it was from.

“Why, hello there, Reggie. I didn’t know you were still here,” it was the janitor, who was supposed to have checked out an hour ago. “What are you doing?”

“Cleaning things up,” Reggie approached him. He looked like he was about to say something, but instead pulled out a tiny pistol from a pocket and aimed it directly at Sharamon’s forehead.

As soon as Reggie pressed the trigger, Sharamon’s world went black and blood splattered the concrete behind him.




“Hey, Reg, I didn’t know you were still here. Didn’t you check out a while ago?” asked the security guard. He was sitting on a desk facing the entrance of the building. “Why did you come back?”

“I had some things to clean up,” Reggie replied as he pushed a large garbage can on a trolley. Inside it was a garbage bag concealing Sharamon’s body.

“Rotten tomatoes? huh?”

“Yeah…something like that.”




2th of August 2570, Harssan-Sskuu, Zigon-5, United Sovereignty of Earth.

Elendil Nelxannu Sairenxa had just arrived on Zigon-5 and currently sat calmly on a couch in the Rrsak-Hlnarsha Starport. Elendil had sat there for half an hour or so, which was understandable due to this Apexai just having been through hyperdrive travel on a starliner and then landing in a hypersonic arrow-head shuttle. The sheer sensation from that had left this six-feet tall Apexai equal parts confused and exhausted. It was not made easier for Elendil that the interior of the starport was full of strange shapes and badly contrasting colours.

"So typical of Zigonian aesthethics. Too much bluish-green and none of the vexarui which they mistake for the former" Elendil thought.

It was only made worse by the fact that the entire way the interior of the building was designed made Elendil uncomfortable. Perhaps it was just the strangeness of the designs which offended him. It was certainly not a case of the air quality being bad, since Elendil could see that the ventilators were going full-on. It also looked to Elendil's eyes as if there was too much light in there. The windows were too big.

Realizing the futility of counting the amount of nuisances instead of getting out, this bluish-skinned Apexai decided to get to a more tranquil place to rest.

Elendil arose from the semicircular-shaped couch and slowly strode towards the exit. While walking, he (humans and Zigonians usually considered Elendil's personality male rather than female - belonging to neither any of the human/Zigonian sexes or genders, E. did not care about that) picked up a pamphlet about the city of New Memphis, which was his actual destination.

As soon as he was in the street, Elendil was met by a further array of various impressions. If there was one thing he hated more than anything else, it was confusion, and if there was any word with which he would describe Toraamal Republic design and architecture, it was confusing... if not confused. Asymmetrical starscrapers painted in garish and badly contrasted colours, buildings apparently designed to look like the laws of physics prohibited their very existence, criminal overuse of neon and an awkward mixture of round curves and acute angles - "What happened to form follows function?", Elendil was about to ask himself as he turned his eyes towards the tarmac in order to avoid the painful sight of buildings which were weird-looking for the sake of looking weird.

"Ugh", he thought, "I probably need a LOT of sleep when I get to a hotel".

With all those troubles of his mind, Elendil tried to keep his actual purpose with the trip to Zigon-5 in mind as he walked to the bus stop, awaiting the bus to New Memphis.

The Eye. Odin's Eye. Elendil had been invited to join this organization. Though he had no clue whatsoever who or what "Odin" was supposed to be, Elendil was curious. Not only had they told him that they had been watching him and had found him "exactly their idea of an ideal member", but he also liked their stated purpose though it was very vague. "The rapid advancement of homo sapiens into a mentally and physically superior species" had a nice ring to it, especially in the eyes of Elendil. After all, Elendil had lost count of the times he had gone "huh?" at homo sapiens behaviour. In fact, the more Elendil got to know about humans, the more their entire way of being looked to him like some sort of hypothetical society a sociologist would create as a sick joke. There were exceptions, of course.

Though Elendil could move back to the ZKN settlement if he wanted, he had too much conscience to pass up on such an opportunity. Elendil reminded himself of this as he waited for the bus. "I can just imagine the sort of better humanity which Odin's Eye are thinking of. Minds matured beyond asinine and nonsensical concepts like like gender roles, free market economy, the vegan diet, interpretive dance and such nonsense. Not only that, these people would have minds devoid of irrational human personality traits such as their pseudo-religious insistence on self-destructive social rituals, almost robotic vulnerability to peer pressure, classifying latent empathy as a disorder and calling it "schizophrenia", the absurd concept that entertainment should not be mentally stimulating, and last but not least their outlandish idea that disgust is acceptable if you mask it well enough. And that is before we get to what we could fix about their physiology. Their ugly, cumbersome and lumpy bodies, with too much unneeded musculature and fat, not to mention body hair which makes perspiration more odourous. Their oddly shaped heads with sloping foreheads, too small eyes, chins either boxy or round as opposed to the ideal triangle, and oddly prominent noses and lips. And that's before we get to the twisted beauty ideals which a genetic predisposition for such a build inspires. For example, many of their males prefer women with disproportionately large mammary gland tissue despite awareness that so-called "busty" homo sapiens often suffer from back pains as a result. Not only does this inflict social stigma upon female homo sapiens with spine-friendlily flat chests, but has also caused the invention of the so-called "breast implant", a hideous monument to the wretchedness of the sick aesthethic ideals caused by the human brain. I'll give them that, there are actually many humans who look like what I would like to see, not just the Hybrids... such as... that one over there!"

While waiting for the bus, Elendil caught sight of a human female approximately between 15 and 20 years of age, roughly the same height as himself. Her pale face, crowned by brown hair which ended just below her shoulders, was somewhat triangular and had prominent turquoise eyes and a somewhat narrow mouth. Her frame was slender with her arms and legs being elongated and shapely. She was probably a little heavier than him, between 50 and 60 kgs. In terms of looks, at least, she was exactly what Elendil desired in a new humanity, perhaps because she reminded him so much of the Apexai species to which he belonged himself. She could perhaps be fifth-generation hybrid, though Elendil could not know for sure as he had not talked to her.

Then he immediately turned his eyes up towards the skies and thought: "Why the hell is an Apexai like me ogling a human female? Though she in her appearance bears some of the same traits that make us Apexais so graceful, she could very well in her mind be the absolute antithesis of what I stand for. And is it not a flaw especially human to judge ones personal character upon ones appearance? The more I think about or look at these humans, the more I become one of them, if not in body then in mind..."

[speaker-to-trolls]

Cool, I liked the first part the best, in the second the Apexai just seemed to be ranting to himself.

[Shroom Man 777]

Well, the second part is done by Peregrine, who's more inclined to do the philosophical societal commentary stuff. I'll tell him to try and tone it down a bit.

[Crazedwraith]

I agree very much with Speaker-to-trolls. I would also assume this isn't stand alone seeing as they seemed to be little point to it all.

Also I 've been thinking "Odin's Eye" Singular. Is it the one he scooped out to get wisdom or the one that remained in its socket or am I taking the cool name far to seriously?"

[Shroom Man 777]

There are coming chapters. Maybe I'll ask Per to edit the second part of the Prologue...

And you'll have to ask Peregrine for which eye it was, since I didn't even know Odin ripped his eyeballs out. I just thought he used that particular name since it was cool sounding. Personally, I think it's the one he scooped out, since it's the fancy one with symbollic meaning.

[Peregrin Toker]

Also I 've been thinking "Odin's Eye" Singular. Is it the one he scooped out to get wisdom or the one that remained in its socket or am I taking the cool name far to seriously?"

Actually, I haven't decided that yet. Perhaps that will made clear once I make an article for the OmniverseZero forums about the Eye.

[Shroom Man 777]

New chapter coming soon.

[Shroom Man 777]

ONE




7th of August 2570, Santiago Spaceport orbiting the world of Celeste, United Sovereignty of Earth

Agent Salvador Pelayo walked up to the uniformed security personnel guarding the entrance to the Echo. One was a tall bald human, the other was a greenish-blue-scaled Zigonian.

With a slight stutter in his voice, which was usually not present, he asked: "I request permission to meet with the Echo's owner."

The Zigonian then asked: "Legitimation, please?"

Pelayo then drew forth a card from his pocket identifying him as a CEID operative.

The two guards stepped aside and opened the door which Salvador then walked through.

Gods, Pelayo hated meeting with Ms. Wayne. He did not have any enmity against the silent matriarch of the Silver Shield. In fact, he felt fortunate that the CEID had this woman among their allies. There was just something about her presence that he simply found unnerving. It was not her preference of communicating telepathically over actually talking. which was supposedly the result of an assassination attempt inflicting a speech impediment upon her by damaging her vocal cords, though that particular rumour had practically nothing to verify it. It was not her appearance either. It was perhaps simply her presence for lack of a better word. He could already feel some sort of ethereal unseen vortex centered around her star-yacht Echo. This "disturbance in the force" as a Star Wars fan would call it was probably some facet of her immense aura since she was after all one of the most powerful psions in history, but Pelayo had not encountered such a literally awe-inspiring and powerful aura in any
psion he had met. And he knew plenty of those.

After walking through the corridor to the Echo's entrance, he felt very fearful due to that something in Ms. Wayne's very presence. It was as if the entire air was saturated with psychic energy.

It was not as if the Echo's interior was an uncomfortable place to be with its design style which seamlessly fused archaic and truly ancient Terran aesthetics with vague elements from late-25th century neo-degeneratism. Slightly odd, but very beautiful.

As he walked through the decorated corridors, he immediately felt an urge, no, an attraction to the nearest of the many living rooms on the 300-metre long staryacht. He knew that he was currently being telepathically manipulated by Ms. Wayne, which reminded him of another thing he found odd about her. She always insisted on receiving a briefing or message about something really important by a personal meeting eye-to-eye rather than receiving the news over the comm-net. That, though, was somewhat explainable since she did not have much company aside from her clone-daughter Stella.

Before he was aware of that, though, he had arrived in a huge, spacious room. The living room had a rounded ceiling and was almost triangular in shape, with the door in one corner and chairs in the other two corners. In the middle was a triangular basin of water with a column at each end of the water basin. The capitals of the columns, though, were not like the Doric-Ionic-Corinthian orders usually seen on neoclassical Terran architecture, but clearly shaped like the heads of snakes. The walls themselves were decorated with lavish murals depicting stylized animals from all over the galaxy, as well as an array of geometrical patterns mostly including zig-zags and whirls. The very structure of the room seemed somehow relaxing to him, though it did not counterweight the awe-inspiringness of Ms. Wayne's presence.

There she was, sitting in one of the chairs, ten metres from the door Pelayo just had walked through into this room. Though the decoration of the room also made his impression, Ms. Wayne had simply caught his utmost attention due to the ethereal charisma she exuded. He was near her, the core of the psionic energy field which enveloped the entire Echo and he could feel it. His hairs were continually raised and he almost felt hyperactive. He almost trembled as she arose from her chair and walked towards him, followed by her six-year old daughter Stella.

As elusive she was, Ms. Wayne still looked exactly like he remembered her. If there was one person in the galaxy Pelayo could never mistake for anyone else, it was probably the banshee-like Charlotte Wayne, leader of the Silver Shield. She was tall, long-limbed and very thin, even for a hybrid. Her complexion was so pale that she almost seemed to shine. Her face was elongated and narrow and perfectly symmetrical save for a prominent scar above the left eyebrow. Her brown eyes and her nose were equally prominent. The only aspect of her apperance which had changed was her hair, which she used to tie up in a single braid and dye blue. Now, though, her hair was long free-flowing and its natural golden colour. As usual she wore a long, shimmeringly white yet semi-transparent dress along with a necklace carrying a small golden pendant shaped like a bird of prey with its wings spread out. The little Stella who walked beside her clearly had all of her mother's features though in diminutive forms.

Ms. Wayne then stared directly into Pelayo's eyes and opened up a slight hole in the empath-blocking psionic field she activated whenever an outsider visited her. He immediately understood that she wanted him to seat himself on the other chair, which he then immediately did. He felt somewhat uneased just by approaching the Echo, but now he was practically transfixed by her very presence.

As Charlotte and Stella Wayne took seat on the other chair, Pelayo took note of various mysterious and strange scars scattered across those parts of her body which her dress did reveal.

Directly seeing Pelayo in his eyes, Ms. Wayne sent another telepathic communication which was absorbed like a wave by Pelayo's aura. He heard the message play like a tape inside his head: "Agent Pelayo, I understand that the Eye has discovered that Agni Sharamon had become one of your informers. I also understand that the Eye killed him immediately."

Pelayo nodded.

Another telepathic message penetrated his mind. "I know what you want to say, Pelayo."

His forehead broke cold sweat trickling across it. Stella then said meekly: "Don't be afraid. Mommy doesn't want to hurt you. Mommy won't hurt you."

"Pelayo, I see millions of different futures. In every single possible future, I see the Eye starting a great conflict in the near future. My life will be endangered. Stella's life will be endangered. Many lives will be endangered."

She then paused to take a sip from a cup of coffee place in the cupholder on her chair's armrest.

"I see an Apexai called Elendil Nelxannu Sairenxa, who will be central to the conflict."

Sounding very afraid, Pelayo asked: "How?"

Ms. Wayne, continuing her transfixing gaze into Pelayo's eyes, explained further through telepathy: "I do not know for sure. What I know is that Elendil has recently joined the Eye. Elendil is currently in New Memphis on Zigon-5. We must know what Elendil is doing."

"Better yet, ma'am, we could try to win Elendil over to our side."

"I see that happening in several possible futures. In one, the Eye discover Elendil's treachery and kill Elendil. In another, they discover that Elendil is a traitor and Elendil manages to escape. In a third, we do not even convince Elendil to spy on the Eye."

She then took a deep breath and closed her eyes, promting Pelayo to sigh: "Finally she stops staring at me as if she wants to fuck me."

Ms. Wayne then opened her eyes again and sent a slight shock through Pelayo's body. He was engulfed by fear as his body electrified and almost drowned in cold sweat. It was as if his off-beat comment had angered her.

"You want to ask me what to do with Elendil, do you, Mr. Pelayo?"

Pelayo nodded as Ms. Wayne sent him another telepathic message: "Well, Pelayo, I agree with you that we must bring Elendil under our influence. If we will control Elendil, we can control the course of the conflict."

Ms. Wayne loosened her telepathic grip upon Pelayo. He wiped his sweat from his brow with his left hand as she resumed transmitting a telepathic message to him.

"I know what you want to say, Pelayo. You want to say that Elendil must be brought under our control. That would be stating the obvious. The question is how."

She paused to take a breath.

"I know also that us three alone cannot devise a plan to bring Elendil under our control, as much as I want to be able to. The Shield will not sit idly by, though. Our Calculator-Adepts will make a plan and report to the CEID by the comm-net within the next week. The organization you represent, Division 4, can, should and will try to turn Elendil into an informer."

"You're talking as if you're a CEID boss when you're not, ma'am."

Ms. Wayne's transfixing gaze intensified. Pelayo almost flew backwards in his chair and gasped for air.

"Well, would you rather leave me and my Shield to take out the trash while the CEID are doing nothing, Mr. Pelayo? Fact is, the Eye is a greater threat than most of you would think."

Pelayo gasped "I know... I know of their moles! Their spies within the CEID..."

Then he felt a terrifying wave of shock surging through his body, paralyzing him temporarily. He wanted to scream but could not do anything except for breathe and hear Ms. Wayne continue her telepathic communication: "... are you one of the Eye's spies in the CEID, perhaps?"

The terror intensified. He felt something sharp penetrate his already-weakened aura. His body felt no pain aside from its temporary paralysis. Oh dear, Ms. Wayne was not just mind-scanning him, she was mind-probing him.

Ms. Wayne then arose and walked slowly up to the contemporarily paralyzed Pelayo while she probed his mind, still staring intensely at his eyes.

Pelayo then felt the shockwaves draw out of his body and the sense of intrusion fade away. She loosened her psionic grip on him and saw him lift his right hand and wave it in front of his own face.

"No Disciple of the Eye there. Good boy."




7th of August 2570, New Memphis, Zigon-5, United Sovereignty of Earth

Sucking on the OrGazmo lollipop in his mouth, John Baylor arched his spine backwards and groaned in delight as the taste of chemically induced pleasure surged through his entire body. Starting in his mouth, the warm and tingling sensation of ecstasy coursed throughout his body and finally climaxed inside his loins with an orgasmic explosion of delectable proportion-

“Excuse me, am I interrupting something?”

Nearly falling off his chair and chocking on his candy stick, John jerked himself upright to find out what the source of this most… inappropriate of interruptions was. “What?! How the hell did you get in my office?!”

“Silly! It’s me, OrGazmo Boy!” indeed it was her, Selphie Alistair, John’s girlfriend, secretary and de-facto partner.

Imagining what would have happened if a would-be client stumbled up on him like that; John sighed and wiped the sweat off his forehead. “You could’ve knocked.”

“I had the keys.”

“The doors were locked, right?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” she was grinning and on the verge of laughing, John just noticed. She usually did that when she caught him in his less inappropriate moments, such as now, and it meant that she would spend most of her time with him grinning at whatever silliness he was doing, intentionally or not. “You look flushed.”

“You could’ve knocked,” John repeated, still a little bit annoyed at her sudden – and probably premeditated - intrusion. But it didn’t matter much to John, actually. She’d seen him half-groaning in pleasure a lot of times, and often she the cause of it, not some adult-only lollipop. John smiled at that thought.

“What’s so funny?”

“Uh…you look good,” she was wearing her usual thigh-length yellow dress that revealed quite a bit of her legs. And showed her slim figure. Somehow, John found it very arousing. “Aw crap, I dropped my OrGazmo! Anyway, what’d you find out?”

“Well, nothing much. She went to New Amsterdam and settled in at Einhoven after Agni disappeared,” Selphie got herself a chair, one of them with wheels, sat down and crossed her slender, milky white legs, giving John a very nice view. She winked and continued. “She’s got a boyfriend now.”

“What’d she say happened to Sharamon?”

“She said the guys at GeNode told her that he ran off with some corporate secrets.”

“And…?”

“That’s basically it. She said that she was about to dump Agni when he disappeared, so she didn’t really care that much. Saved her the hassle, she said.” Selphie shrugged.

“Hmm…” John got another stick of OrGazmo and was about to tear open the wrapper, but he stopped himself.

“You buy it?”

“After Sam Cayhall, who was GeNode’s lead splicer after Agni, also mysteriously vanished and turned up as some floater in some river halfway to Crocus? No way in hell!” John got his feet off the table and leaned towards his computer console. “But what the hell is up with this? GeNode just splices tomatoes, for fuck’s sake!”

“I like it when you get all serious and professional.”

“I like it when you give me a clear view of your panties.”

“You perv!” Selphie mocked as she pulled down her skirt to cover her undies.

“Heh, it’s not fun when people peek at your privates, or your private business, now is it?” John replied with a smirk that threatened to crack his already dry lips. Side-effects of OrGazmo. “Anyway, these files-”

“The files I got from GeNode?” back when they were both in the Marine Corps, when John was a jarhead slugging it out with terrorists and aliens and terrorists who happened to be aliens, Selphie used to operate the starship’s communications AI. They taught you lots of neat tricks in the Academy.

“Yeah. These files you got from GeNode, most of which are just ‘meh’ anyway,” John paused for a while. “Err…could you get me a glass of water? A bit thirsty…”

“Sucked on too much ‘gazmo?”

“Something like that,” as Selphie went out of the office and to the reception area, which was her domain, to procure some mineral water, John grabbed the OrGazmo stick he was playing with just a short while ago and was about to open it when he noticed that the stick was one of Selphie’s. It was Hard-On OrGazmo, phallus shaped lollipops. “Hands off…”

“What?” she came back with two bottles of mineral water. One was already opened and had half its contents drained. She handed him that one.

“Nothing. Thanks for the water,” John’s parched voice was literally dripping with sarcasm.

“No problemo,” Selphie smiled.

Downing the bottle’s contents with just one gulp, John paused for a while as he tried to remember what he was just talking about, then he remembered. “Yeah, most of these files you got were just ‘meh’. Nothing dirty, but I knew they wouldn’t leave their important stuff hanging around for amateur-“

“Hey! I’m not an-“

“The point is, we know they’ve killed a guy over some tomato sauce recipe so they’re going to be crazy enough to buy some OmniSoft Firewall disks.”

“…yeah.”

“Don’t cry, here, I’ve got a Hard-On.”

“Thanks!” her eyes lit up and she snatched the large OrGazmo stick and placed it in a pocket.

“Anyway, you didn’t uncover any damning evidence of them killing people and ditching them into rivers, despite giving me nearly a week’s worth of reading material. But I did notice something interesting though. They’ve hired a new lead splicer, an Apexai named Elen something-something. Wait, let me see… Elendil Nelxannu Sairenxa. Yeah-”

“Wow.”

“Pretty long, huh?” John asked rhetorically. Selphie nodded. “Anyway, E here’s their new lead splicer. Just like Agni Sharamon and Sam Cayhall. Agni’s missing. They found Sam floating back in late June. Chances are, this alien’s going to be either missing or dead pretty soon, so we better watch him.”

“You, you mean?”

“Yes, me.”

“What do I do?”

“Try to steal us some more data. And maybe go shopping for this week’s edition of the Orion’s Guard-”

“Why do you read that stuff anyway? I mean, it’s totally insane and downright silly!”

“That’s kinda like the point,” John said, mockingly rolling his eyes. Selphie retorted by sticking out her tongue. “Hey, here’s a fun fact. Elen arrived at Harssan in August 2. Same time you went to that flight for New Amsterdam.”

“Yeah, I thought I noticed a few Greys there. Heck, one might’ve even been staring at me.”

“Ew!” John made a face and a few spastic hand gestures and Selphie laughed out loud. “Anyway, how was the trip?”

“Bad. Economy class? The trip would’ve been better if someone wasn’t so frickin’ stingy!”

“Hey! If I got you first class, Ms. Cayhall would’ve had to end up paying for that. She is paying us for all we’re doing, you know? And I don’t like unfairly charging my clients.”

“…boy scout.”

“Ex-US Marine, actually. Hey, how was New Amsterdam?”

“Flashy. Lots of cultists. And hookers.”

“Did you get one?”

“No…since someone didn’t want me to go on a spending spree.”

“Too bad. I would’ve gotten myself one. Heard they were pretty hot, even the hermaphro-” John realized, with a little hint from the contemptuous look Selphie was giving him, that it was time to change topic. “Hey, uh…you look good!”

“I get that a lot.”

[Crazedwraith]

very nice. So whats the timeframe compared to that other 'Baylor as marine' fic?

[Shroom Man 777]

About three years after his exploits as a Marine.

[Shroom Man 777]

Did some editting:

Replaced this:

“Try to steal us some more data. Mooch off me some more, maybe. Maybe buy your own flat. Or get yourself some nice lingerie and some toy handcuffs so we can-”

“Okay, okay.”

“Hey, here’s a fun fact. Elen arrived at Harssan in August 2. Same time you went to that flight for New Amsterdam.”

With this:

“Try to steal us some more data. And maybe go shopping for this week’s edition of the Orion’s Guard-”

“Why do you read that stuff anyway? I mean, it’s totally insane and downright silly!”

“That’s kinda like the point,” John said, mockingly rolling his eyes. Selphie retorted by sticking out her tongue. “Hey, here’s a fun fact. Elen arrived at Harssan in August 2. Same time you went to that flight for New Amsterdam.”

I think it makes Baylor less of a prick and makes the couple seem a little more cute-ish.

[Shroom Man 777]

8th of August 2570, New Memphis, Zigon-5, United Sovereignty of Earth

“Name’s Ollie, filling in.” John Baylor calmly said as he entered the room. He was dressed in a janitor’s uniform and had a knapsack slung over his back.

“Huh? Where did Edward go?” asked another man in a janitor’s outfit. He had graying hair and was probably around 50 years old, John estimated. His nametag read ‘Reggie’.

“Heard some contest guy came up his doorstep, said he won a free trip to Aruba.”

“Why him and not me?” Reggie asked rhetorically as he punched out. “I hate this job.”

“Me too,” John/Ollie said with a shrug as Reggie left the room. He stuffed his own card into the time clock and went about his business.

Just a few hours ago, he told Selphie that he had been planning this ever since GeNode bought out NevoGen. Prior to its acquisition, GeNode was a very small outfit, but now it had several hundred employees - which made infiltration a piece of cake. As for Selphie, the office was closed since she was having lunch with Ms. Cayhall. She requested an update on the investigation so John decided to give Selphie something to do; besides, he wasn’t really a people person. He also did not want to be the one to tell her that she had been wasting her husband’s insurance money on an investigation that, after more than a month’s worth of frustratingly digging through all sorts of files and ‘evidence’, has turned out to be little more than a fruitless endeavor. He didn’t want to tell himself that either. Of course, there had been leads, and John knew for sure that there was something funny going on inside GeNode, but sour leads and gut feelings do not equate to evidence of foul play. So this was why he sent Selphie to buy them some more time, and this was why he was dressing up as a GeNode janitor and going all Agent Spozavik. Desperate times…

John unzipped his knapsack and checked its contents, a change of clothes so he could dress up as one of the company’s geneticists, an Orion’s Guardian tabloid in case things got boring, and a bunch of fancy gadgets; namely a tiny camera and a pen-sized listening/recording device he bought from the local S-Mart. “Shop smart,” John muttered to himself.

He was currently in what seemed to be a ‘janitor’s room’, which had a desk complete with a time clock, a holoscreen and a keyboard. All over the room were janitorial supplies. Looking around for something inconspicuous he could use to carry his luggage, he found a tool bag. He dumped all of its contents and replaced them with his knapsack’s, stuffing into the tool bag his extra clothes and the tabloid. He placed his camera and listening device inside his breast pocket, zipped the tool bag shut, and headed for the door. “Showtime.”




Two men, dressed in expensive looking suits, walked briskly through one of the GeNode building’s lavish marble hallways. They walked past dozens of men and women, humans and Zigonians, most of them scientists under the employ of the company and most of them leaving the building for lunch. One of the men was the CEO of GeNode, Rob McCauley, and the other was the head of security, Nathan Anderson. They were walking against the current of human and reptile on their way to one of the building’s meeting rooms.

“Just who’s idea was it to put Elendil in the ground floor meeting room?” asked CEO Rob McCauley, disgusted with having to walk past the scores of starving employees, and annoyed with having to go down to the ground floor in order to meet with their new lead geneticist.

“Mine,” Nathan replied tersely. He wasn’t the talkative type.

“And why did you do that when you knew we were going to meet him at this time?” Rob asked in frustration as he nearly bumped into one of the hungry Zigonian geneticists. “No, don’t answer. You know what? I can’t believe they gave me such a shitty security chief, you know that?”

Nathan didn’t respond.

“I mean, sure, you got rid of Sharamon, which was a nice job, by the way, pretending to be that retarded janitor and all. But then you had to do Cayhall, who wasn’t even working for them!” Rob hissed exasperatedly. Although he was obviously mad, he made sure nobody could overhear them. “He was just a snitch for NevoGen, and they just wanted tomatoes, for Christ sake! I should tell our superiors to have you transferred.”

“It was you who wanted him watched, Rob. And it was you who wanted him gone if there was the slightest chance of him being a snitch. You ordered it.” Nathan replied, obviously pissed off with Rob’s whining, as evidenced by his unusually long reply.

“Nates, you knew what I was talking about, you’re just using that as an excuse because you’re a bloodthirsty psychopath!” Rob snapped back. “A facially deformed psychopath, I might add.”

Nathan was silent for a while. Though in fact he facially deformed via a mutation, it wasn’t obvious since the deformity/mutation just made his face very soft and pliable, moldable. It was why he was such a proficient assassin, because with just a few cosmetic alterations, he could assume the identity of nearly anyone, becoming an undetectable, polymorphic killer. Why such an efficient killer like him was assigned to such a prick like Rob McCauley was a mystery even to him, but one thing he knew was that he would never take shit from anyone, not even his superior. He grabbed Rob’s arm and jerked hard, forcing the CEO to face him.

“What the hell? Get your hand off-”

Cutting him off, Nathan spoke in a cold and chilling tone: “Let me remind you that right now I can kill you in over a dozen ways and you wouldn’t even know it until you heard your neck snap. Don’t test me, Robert. You are expendable, they can have just about any pencil pusher replace you anytime. I, on the other hand, am special… ‘facially deformed’ as you put it.”

Rob didn’t say anything as he tried his best to maintain a poker face. His eyes betrayed his fear, however. But he didn’t say a thing, not even when a janitor nearly bumped into him.

Waiting for the janitor to pass by, Nathan continued: “Go talk to Elendil, have your meeting. I don’t think you need me there, boss. See you around. And don’t worry; I’ll take care of everything. I always do.”




“What the hell was that about?” John muttered to himself as he entered a lavatory. He knew those two, one was the CEO of GeNode and the other was the security chief. The latter was a shady character and aside from being listed as the head of security, John didn’t know anything else about him, he had no paperwork, no medical records, nada. Definitely need to keep my eye out for that one, John thought. He regretted not being able to eavesdrop to their entire conversation, having turned on his listening device too late.

Thankfully, the lavatory was empty; nobody was taking a shit since everyone’s stomach was empty, including John’s. Entering one of the stalls, he opened up his tool bag and immediately began changing into his lab clothes. A pair of eyeglasses, a lab coat, khaki pants, a collared shirt, and all that. The only thing he didn’t change were his underpants and his shoes. Almost forgetting his surveillance gadgets, John took them out of his uniform’s breast pocket and stuck them into his lab coat. As he struggled with his pants, John asked himself why exactly he was doing this – changing from one disguise to another. Then he reminded himself of what his contact said, that coming in dressed up as a scientist would be suicidal since all scientists coming into the building were asked for identification, and since a new guy punching in would be noticed – despite the size of the GeNode building. To enter undetected, one had to come in through the back door dressed as something obscure and low-key, such as a janitor, and only after getting in could one go trick-or-treating as a geneticist.

Finally getting his pants in, John buttoned it and pulled up the zipper. Then he stuffed the janitor outfit into the tool bag and hoped nobody would notice him lugging it along. He got out of the stall and headed for the computer banks on the second floor. What Selphie couldn’t find by hacking into GeNode through the comm.-net, he would have to find in GeNode’s own computers. Desperate times…





Rob McCauley and Elendil beheld each other. One was a small, thin human with large dark eyes. The other was a small, thin humanoid with large dark eyes.

"Goodday, Elendil Nalxennu Sairenxa. Welcome aboard GeNode."

"That is indeed what my name is. You are the one they call Robert Elijah McCauley?"

The CEO of GeNode smiled. "Indeed I am, through I prefer Mr. McCauley. Do you prefer being called a he, a she or a he/she?"

Elendil then made an abrupt gesture with his hands as he asked:

"Eh?"

Sounding almost smug, McCauley replied: "He-she, or alternately she-he, like the human androgynes of the LFW. You know, that 5% of the LFW population who have been raised to consider themselves neither male nor female, regardless of whether they actually are biologically intersexual, or bio-androgynous as they call it over there, most of the freeworlder androgynes are like everyone else in the genitals department, except that their parents either don't believe in..."

Elendil, liking what he had heard about the LFW, interrupted: "Those Freeworlders are catching on to something, but you can just call me Mr. Sairenxa. Most members of the homo sapiens species find my personality male. It would also seem to many that you have lost track of the original topic of this conversation."

McCauley smiled as he noddingly walked around Elendil in a circle while keeping eye contact. "Oh yes, Mr. Sairenxa. You are now the lead splicer of GeNode, the legal front of The Eye."

Full of curiosity, Elendil asked: "And what does that involve?"

McCauley stopped walking and answered. "Well, officially GeNode's business is genetically engineering new breeds of vegetables and other crops."

Elendil then asked: "What am I actually supposed to do here at GeNode, Mr. McCauley?"

"That was what I was about to tell you, Mr. Sairenxa. As you may know, the goal of Odin's Eye is to replace modern-day homo sapiens with a hypothetical metahuman species known as homo sapiens superior or homo sapiens novus. The basic template for these will be a whole new batch of purestrain Apexai Hybrids like those Grix made back in the 24th century. With eventual help from either Grix himself, we will make a second generation of Hybrids who will be all psionic, and completely ridden of any possible mutation. The literal Superhuman!"

Like music to Elendil's ears. He wondered, though, why the Eye was so opposed for having a goal like that. It was not as if genetically engineered humans were any rarity these days.

Elendil solemnly remarked: "I can certainly help you with that. However , I have to inform you that I do not yet share Grix' knowledge of how to clone psions or genetically engineer psions through other means than ensuring that psions only spawn with other psions."

"The word you are looking for is eugenics, Mr. Sairenxa."

McCauley then took a deep breath and said: "However, don't tell anyone outside the Eye, not even other GeNode employees, about this. If it gets out to the public, the Silver Shield and their CEID cohorts will be all over us like a bunch of Korendian hellgoblins with zombie fever. The Shield hates us because our goal is to become what they were supposed to be."

Elendil nodded and commented, supplying his oddly-accented English with Apexai sign language out of sheer instinct: "I get this right - I am working on creating the Superhuman while everyone will think I am just working on increasing the growth rates and fruit size of common household plants?"

"Correct, Mr. Sairenxa. However, I have always been a man of few words. I am not a technical type. So I will leave it to Ms. Andrea Ravensburg to give you a tour of our facilities."

The door in the room then opened. A woman roughly same height as Elendil, though of course somewhat heavier, entered the room. She had a slightly rounded face with a small mouth and rectangular glasses before her slightly larger-than-average eyes. Most oddly, the hair on the back of her head was tied up in a topknot but the hair on the front of her head hung down, reaching her shoulders.

On the left side of her dark blue blazer jacket was a nametag reading "Andrea Natasha Ravensburg". She then looked at Elendil and said to him: "I am Andrea Ravensburg. You are Elendil Nelxannu Sairenxa, right?"




John was slouched in front of a computer terminal in the second floor of the GeNode building. For twenty minutes, he had been going through the GeNode databanks in search of incriminating evidence. And as usual, he found none. It was getting frustrating, since he was sure that there was something going on with GeNode, and people certainly weren’t getting iced over tomatoes or the other genetically enhanced GeNode food products.

Personally, John thought they were splicing people, illegally modifying their DNA for profit. He had heard in both the news and the various tabloids he enjoyed reading that custom ‘metahumanizations’ were all the rage in underground circles. Illegal fighting tournaments such as the MetaBrawl not only had cyborgs and low-level psions, but they also had fighters with animal DNA integrated into their cellular structure. And in the more lawless and/or amoral parts of the galaxy, some people even had themselves cosmetically spliced in order to look better and prostitutes in these parts of the galaxy had gone as far as having themselves spliced with feline DNA – or so John read in an Orion’s Guardian tabloid article.

However, there were some legal applications of splicing, but they almost always never involved the DNA of sapient species. One of the shadier but acceptable applications of splicing technology is the creation of super soldiers, the Zigonians did this and so did the Sovereignty, and John knew for a fact that many criminal and terrorist organizations were dying to get their own gene-modded killers.

So maybe GeNode was indeed illegally splicing, creating meta-brawlers, or making people look better by altering their DNA, or even producing super soldiers for scumbags. They were perfectly capable of this since they were a genetics company, after all. Also, John had recently discovered that they had just acquired several Cray-Cyberdyne meta-processors, supercomputers that had the processing power required to tinker around with human DNA, but had way beyond what was needed to splice fruits and vegetables-

“Interesting,” John muttered to himself. He had found the day’s first halfway interesting piece of information. It was a tidbit about the Apexai geneticist, Elendil Nelxannu Sairenxa. “Was the foremost student of Grix, eh?”

Grix, Azvatan Khedon Grix, was a renowned Apexai geneticist. In reputable media sources, such as the news or the equally renowned Encyclopedia Galactica, he was credited as being one of the founding scientists of the project that eventually produced the Hybrid subspecies. And in less-credible sources, such as say…the Orion’s Guardian, he was the subject of much speculation - the incredible and downright insane kind.

“Very interesting…” John said as he rubbed his chin. To get that ‘janitor’s look’, he had stopped shaving for nearly two weeks. Selphie liked the rugged grizzled fuzz that had crept up on his face like some mildew infestation, heck, when they were having se-

“What’s very interesting?” someone said. John jerked himself around to face that someone, looking like he had been caught doing some sort of immoral act. At the other end of the spiffy room, at the doorway, was a small gentleman with an expensive looking suit.

Holy shit, it’s the CEO. Quickly John, think of a way to bullshit this guy. Come on! Use some of that US Marine training! John opened his mouth and uttered an ‘um’.

“Well?”

“Err…I was just going through all the research data my group has accumulated,” John said, trying his best to bullshit his way out of looking suspicious. Thankfully, the geneticists who used this room were supposed to access the central-databank for the information gathered from their research, so the character John was ‘roleplaying’ didn’t really look out of place.

“Isn’t it lunchtime?”

“Oh…well…I was just so engrossed in my work, I guess. I think I may have found a way to increase Lycopersicon esculentum’s amount of anti-oxidant by threefold by manipulating the base pairs of its interior cellular structure,” hopefully, the biological gibberish would disgust and repulse the CEO, who John figured out wasn’t the type who cared what his employees were working on. At the very least, it would convince him John was actually a scientist who wasn’t doing anything suspicious.

“Ah. That’s very interesting! Maybe I could arrange a meeting with you and my scientific advisor, tomorrow perhaps. I’m sure she would be also interested in what you’ve uncovered,” he was trying, diplomatically, to bullshit his own way out of listening to even more technical jargon. It probably hurts his ears, John mused.

“What time?” John feigned interest and joy. Maybe he was finally going to get a raise!

“How about right after lunch?”

“Sure!” Scientific advisor? Did he mean the Apexai? “Um sir, is your advisor Elendil Nelxannu Sairenxa?”

“No, it’s Andrea Ravensburg. I’m sorry but I’ve really got to go, I have a meeting with the shareholders. Just be there tomorrow. Andrea would love to talk to you!” the CEO, Rob McCauley, was apparently in a hurry to get out of the room. The meeting he spoke of was probably real, but John was sure that Rob was also very tired of talking to some weird lunch-skipping anti-social geneticist. Whatever.

Disappointed with not having a chance to talk with the Apexai, John got out of his chair and headed for the door. He knew who Andrea Ravensburg was, she was cute in a geek-ish kind of way, but aside from that he had no real reason to actually meet with her. And like Rob McCauley, he also despised ‘technobabble’. He peeked his head out of the doorway and noticed that Rob had already gone to a nearby elevator. “Shitcock,” he muttered as he closed the door and made sure that this time it was locked. “Now back to work.”




8th of August 2570, Santiago Spaceport orbiting the world of Celeste, United Sovereignty of Earth

Chang Cheng Shui, brother of one of the Shield's most legendary Calculator-Adepts and a close friend of Regeneratrix Charlotte Wayne, the leader of the Shield, walked through the ornamented corridors of the Echo. He had just three seconds ago received a holographic message on the wrist-computer he and Ms. Wayne shared, marked specially for her. It was sent by none other than Casey Heng, director of CEID's Division Four, so Chang Cheng Shui felt obliged to show it to her.

His intuition, as well as the extensive draw of Ms. Wayne's enormous psionic presence, enabled him to know exactly where she was - namely in the Echo's Great Hall Of Mirrors.

As he strode directly to the Great Hall of Mirrors as quickly as possible, for Ms. Wayne was a very unpredictable personality to practically everyone save for her clone-daughter Stella who was currently asleep in her room, Chang wondered what the message was.

Then, as he stood before the door to the Great Hall of Mirrors, the familiar telepathic voice of Ms. Wayne utter: "You have news for me, Cheng. I know that they are from Casey Heng himself. I can also guess what they will be about."

Chang opened the door and entered the Great Hall of Mirrors. Five metres wide, twenty metres long and four metres high. Its metallic walls were not a series of mirrors as such but were in practice huge mirrors with a surface of eighty square metres each. Its floor and ceiling were purest white marble.

In the middle of it all stood the Regeneratrix herself, Ms. Wayne, or the Matriarch as she often called herself, standing proudly. Her dark eyes, which formed a stark contrast to her shining golden hair, stared directly at Chang's from ten metres. The pale Regeneratrix sometimes struck him through her powerful aura as angelic and other times demonic; the best word he could use to describe her presence being "divine". This time, though, he could clearly sense a great negativity in her aura.

"I wonder, Cheng Shui, why Casey Heng has decided to send a comm-net message instead of saying this personally to me. It appears that he is afraid of me." As she communicated that message, she walked towards Cheng Shui.

When she had walked up to him, she directed her gaze towards Chang Cheng Shui's wristcomputer instead of his eyes. As he felt the air saturate with signatures of telekinetic activity he saw the holographic menu pop up and Ms. Wayne select the message in question, all by her mind.

Then, just by her side, a full-size hologram of Mr. Casey Heng, the director of Division 4 appeared and said: "I'm getting impatient, Charlotte."

Ms. Wayne, who hated it when Casey Heng referred to her by her given name, then spoke to the hologram as she smiled wryly: "Indeed you are, Casey"

It was a rare occasion that the silent Ms. Wayne spoke with her mouth rather than her mind, and Chang Cheng Shui felt surprised to the point of being shocked.

"Ms. Wayne, your treatment of Agent Pelayo has been completely unacceptable. You had absolutely no right to use force against CEID operatives. Remember, if it was not for CEID, you and your little secret society would never have existed."

The holographic Heng then increased the wrath inherent in his voice and looked directly down to Ms. Wayne's eyes as he uttered: "If this incident repeats itself, you will be punished. Ms. Wayne, I would like to remind you that you are not above the law just because you fancy yourself the most powerful psion in the known universe. You will ultimately have to answer to the same authorities as any other citizen of the United Sovereignty of Earth. If this incident repeats itself, a task-force team of Division-Zero 7th-Degree Pariah-Adepts will in such a case be dispatched to neutralize you completely."

Ms. Wayne and Chang Cheng Shui both shuddered. They were among the few people outside Division Zero who knew about the Pariah-Adepts. The Pariah-Adepts were psyborgs, psions whose abilities had been enhanced by neural cyborgization, who also had undergone a mysterious and enigmatic program known as Aura Inversion Therapy. Their training, whatever it involved, gave the most skilled Pariah-Adepts the ability to permanently strip other psions of their paranormal abilities.

Sounding even angrier, Heng then asked her rhetorically: "Do you understand, Ms. Wayne?"

Ms. Wayne nodded and then asked: "But why do you refuse to face me, Heng? Are you afraid of me?"

The director then replied: "You can kill me now if you want to, or just do to me what you did to Pelayo. But you won't do that, because then that would make you no better than Odin. Then it's quid pro quo, and the rest of CEID will take you down in no time."

Ms. Wayne, on the brink of saying to herself "if Casey Heng says quid pro quo another time...", muttered: "I understand, Mr. Heng."

He then continued: "Don't presume that because you are the most powerful psion in the galaxy, that it entitles you to special privilages, Wayne. That's what Odin thinks. And if you even begin to consider those preconceptions, then you have become no different from them..."

She then stepped back, frightened by how furious the usually calm Casey Heng appeared to be, whispering: "I get the picture, sir."

"Don't try to act like a little girl this time just too get my sympathy, Charlotte. To make it short - if you're caught red-handed one more time, you can bet those Pariah-Adepts are coming to neutralize you."

[Crazedwraith]

swish. The plot thickens. It seems to be holding at a sort of porridgey level. (yes i know i made the same joke at OZ I'm not original) Thats not important what is important is this is damn good. Keep it up.

[Shroom Man 777]

Poridge?

[Shroom Man 777]

The second chapter mentions 'Agent Spozavik'. For all those wondering, here it is: LINK

[Ace Pace]

I like this, though some scenes are abit overflowing with discriptions and background information, its nice in the start to place us in the currect time period and give some information on the characters, but in other places, its too much.

Great story overall!

[Shroom Man 777]

THREE

New Memphis, Zigon-5
United Sovereignty of Earth
11th of August, 2570

John Baylor took one look at the mirror and grimaced. Immediately, he reached for the AntiFuzZ, squirted some on his hand and slapped the gunk on his face, directly on the blanket of tiny little whiskers that dominated his chin.

While pretending to be a janitor was a rough job (and necessitated not-shaving), spending a week without sleep combing four terabytes worth of text and turning up with nothing was something else entirely. Something not even his years as a US Marine could’ve prepared him.

He stuck his other hand into his pants and rubbed his sore buttocks.

“John, it’s five in the morning!” Selphie yelled from the bedroom. She was still on the bed, half-naked and rather pissed at loosing a very huggable heat source.

“I know,” John replied casually as he put on his wristwatch. “Just got some stuff to do.”

“What ‘stuff’ could you possibly be doing at five in the morning?” she asked. “Come back to bed, soldier!”

“Have to borrow a camera and take some pictures,” John said as he exited the bathroom. “I’ll be gone the whole day, but don’t worry. I’ll buy something nice on the way back.”




Neo-Berlin, Earth
United Sovereignty of Earth

“Sir, I honestly think we should call it off. The Shield is already working on how to get Elendil,” Pelayo said. “I don’t think they would take it lightly if we snubbed their suggestions.”

In front of the hologram and behind an intricate oaken table was the Director of Division 4 himself, Casey Heng. He replied calmly: “Pelayo, we know that the Eye is most probably trying to clone Hybrids, just like what they did years ago. All we need is the evidence to pin them down; we don’t need to recruit their lead geneticist. And the Eye has done a great deal to obtain him and to ensure that he will not be turned. He will be watched. We need to do this another way, by recruiting multiple low-profiles. Besides, it will take time to wait for the Shield to devise a way to approach Elendil, which in itself is a very risky proposition.”

Decades ago, Odin’s Eye had successfully attempted to create their own Apexai Hybrids. The total number of their vat-grown metahuman army numbered approximately in the hundreds, maybe in the thousands, and the Eye took great pains to ensure that all of them were indoctrinated into fanatics, fanatics who could blend into the USE’s population seamlessly. Though they didn’t number much, as there were trillions of humans in the USE, CEID would nevertheless not allow a repeat of that incident.

“But sir, Wayne told me that Elendil would play a very crucial role in the future. She said it was imperative to have him under our employ,” Pelayo protested. His hologram was standing on the carpeted floor of the Director’s office, seemingly materializing without an emitter.

Casey Heng was silent for a moment. Despite his outburst a few days ago, where he even went so far as to threaten Wayne with Pariahs, he was generally a calm and collected person who never raised his voice unless if the situation – like say having your employee mentally violated – required it. He rubbed his chin. “Personally, I believe that Wayne is no longer in complete possession of her faculties – and I believe that opinion can be objectively quantified by her erratic behavior, such as mind raping you. So it would be wise to doubt and question any and all of her suggestions, actions and motivations. At least for the time being.”

“Are you questioning her loyalty, sir?” despite being her victim, Pelayo was still rather loyal to the self-styled Matriarch of the Silver Shield, being one of the CEID’s ambassadors to the Shield’s hierarchy. Perhaps it was also because of his prolonged exposure to Wayne’s psychic influences, though that thought didn’t bother Heng much as it was a given.

“Her sanity, Pelayo, her sanity,” Heng said, shaking his head. “Her appointed successor is a homicidal basket case, you know that? An ex-mercenary from the Federation.”

“You have to be kidding me,” Pelayo said, disbelievingly.

“I’m not,” Heng replied. Not enjoying the digression, he shifted back to the original topic. “The recruits are making real progress, by the way. You might want to tell them, her, that.”

“Do you also want me to tell them that our plans for Elendil have been discontinued?”

“Yes. Tell them it’s for the sake of not jeopardizing our other operations,” Heng checked his wristwatch and realized that he had an appointment with the Director of Division 1 and the President coming up soon. He would have to end this conversation. “Is that all?”

“Chang was inquiring about Sam Cayhall, GeNode’s lead geneticist before Elendil. He was wondering if his untimely death had something to do with us.”

“All we know is that he somehow ended up in floating face-down in a river near New Memphis. Undoubtedly, the Eye did it, but we don’t know why. Hopefully, our recruits will find something that could justify an all-out investigation, which would help us pin them down, ” Heng glanced at his watch again. “Is that all?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” and with that, Pelayo’s hologram dissipated into nothingness.




Harssan-Sskuu, Zigon-5
United Sovereignty of Earth

No more than ten seconds after he exited his car’s air-conditioned interior, John Baylor immediately began feeling the effects of Zigon-5’s natural climate. Not accustomed with such humidity, he pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his face, which was already accumulating sweat.

He cursed how the Ziggies preferred the planet’s natural humidity to the coolness provided by the weather stations of human-dominated cities. How they only turned on their air-conditioning during noon, when it was hottest. How they actually savored the heat like how a human would stick his face in front of an air-conditioner. How they-

“Crazy lizards,” John muttered as he walked towards the nearest building. Hopefully, its owner would have had the common sense to turn on the air-conditioning. He opened the door and stepped in.

No such luck.

“Sherkash’shaela’nak, Baylor,” the blue-feathered, green-scaled Zigonian behind the counter greeted happily. Like most Zigonians, he had an accent that seemingly pronounced everything with a snake-like hissing sound.

“And good morning to you too, Kal,” John replied pleasantly as he pocketed his hanky and tried his best to distract himself from the unbearable heat. “Anyway, do you have the package?”

“Sadly, no,” Kal’shak’kalseh answered. His accent pronounced ‘sadly’ as ‘ssshhssadly’ and John would have smirked at that (as he always did) if it were not for what he had just said. That and the inhumanely unbearable heat. “My suppliers ran out of stock.”

“You said-”

“But wait,” Kal interrupted as he bent down to get something below his counter.

“I mean, how am I supposed to do my job without a-”

Cutting short John’s protests for the second time, Kal got up and deposited a heavy looking package on his counter.

“What’s that?”

“It’s not a lip-reading camera with an integrated amplifier-thing, but it will do, I believe.” Kal said confidently as he handed the package to his human patron.

“It’s not very heavy,” John noted.

“My supplier had to ‘dress it up’ so it could pass customs unnoticed.”

“Whatever. Anyway, thanks. I knew I could count on you,” John said as he started walking towards the door. “By the way, you might want to get your air-conditioner fixed.”

“Indeed,” Kal replied with the Zigonian equivalent of a smile plastered on his face.


New Memphis, Zigon-5
United Sovereignty of Earth
11th of August 2570


It was another evening in Nancy's Restaurant. Nancy's Restaurant was not the finest of eateries, but it was more glamourous and definately served better and more expensive food than the stuff you could buy in a Burger Boat. The customers of this night were a broad sampling of whomever you would expect to dine at a restaurant; either groups of people celebrating something, lovers on hot dates, and people who just were too lazy to cook their own dinner this particular evening.

The checkerboard-patterned floor and the three horizontal lines on the walls which formed the main interior decorative patterns, in combination with the overall rounded architecture of the place, gave it a cozy feel evoking that particular, slightly kitschy style which seemed to become popular every fifteenth decade.

At one table in a faraway corner was seated something which put the "odd" into "odd couple". The odd couple in question consisted of a somewhat miffed-looking Apexai and a waifishly pretty human female. They were not any random Apexai and human female, either. One was Elendil Nelxannu Sairenxa, lead splicer of GeNode. The other was Andrea Ravensburg, another high-ranking GeNode employee. Though Andrea had understandably requested a table as far away from the inquisitive gazes of most of the other guests, those waiters and janitors who happened to pass by could not help but stare in disbelief at what they were seeing.

While the curious stares did only make Elendil even more uncomfortable than he already was, Andrea did not mind. After all, bypassers may have gained the impression that the two people were romantically involved with each other. Some found the idea disgusting from a purely biological viewpoint, whereas others had no idea how a human mind and an Apexai mind would even comprehend each other, regardless of how cosmopolitan-minded the Apexai in question happened to be. Andrea found no reason to worry about that; after all, she never felt obliged to concern herself with the stupidity of people she could just as well ignore.

Those who did understand that Elendil and Andrea were not remotely in love with each other, unless the Platonic definition was used, had another - and much more logical - excuse for those awkward stares; after all, it would be a gross understatement to call Andrea attractive.

The hair on the back of her hair was tied up in a topknot, the rest hanging down to her shoulders. Her face had a distincly narrow chin, a small nose and wide eyebrows above large, dreamy eyes crowned by rectangular glasses which only magnified her charisma. Her frame was thin, probably leaner than what was generally considered normal and definately much slighter than average; but she had an excuse for looking like that. Many women considered it mind-rape whenever somebody looked at them the wrong way, but Andrea did not mind as she took it as a form of flattery.


Elendil looked somewhat empty-eyed at the food on his plate, trying to direct attention away from how odd it looked to him now that he had partially eaten it; mainly consisting of various cooked vegetables contained in a mold of what passed for jelly among humans. Then, he whispered: "So, Ms. Ravensburg, what you are saying is that you are secretly creating a bunch of psionic faux-Third-Genera..."

Andrea then uttered, with silent outrage present in her voice: "Yes. You know, Elen, I think it would be wiser if we spoke of this using code words. And why are you looking that way at your food? I am not used to eat what I ordered, either."

"It looks like plants trapped within a forcefield, Ms. Ravensburg."

The otherwise stern Andrea could not help but giggle only to see Elendil's great black eyes stare towards her in sheer puzzledness.

Still giggling, she answered: "I am laughing because it is true what you are saying. And the 'Ms. Ravensburg' at the end just made it sound so cute."

"I do not see the funny in stating the obvious. As for the bit about code-speaking - so, what GeNode actually is about is... uhm, making tomato plants with somewhat purplish fruit... but with much bigger... stalks. And bugs will not eat them, right?".

Andrea nodded smilingly as she said: "Something like that."

She then sighed quickly afterwards, and commented more meekly: "I sure as hell hope nobody heard that other stuff I said. Please don't tell'em that we even talked about this outside that sort of codespeak."

As the Apexai lowered his gaze to study the jug of water which stood upon their table, noting that it was shaped like a stylized statuette of a bear, he said: "I should have known".

"Don't worry, Elen, we can always figure out some way to discredit those who heard it."

"How?"

Andrea answered almost dryly: "You know... uhm, making a particular green chili look like red even though they technically are green so that everyone will think of them as red chili. But we, and only we, will know that it actually is green chili. I probably do not need to tell you what we will do if that does not work out."

Elendil suddenly looked more anxious, or at least made an expression with his hands in Zedath-Kaleshi Sign Language which Andrea had understood to denote anxiety as she had in the past observed the same signing done by every Apexai who verbally expressed anxiety. She always thought it extremely odd for Apexais to communicate simultaneously in spoken and sign language at every opportunity, especially considering that congenital deafness was completely nonexistant in the Apexai species, but she had never really said it to them because the Apexais were legendary for their similarly baffled attitudes at much human behaviour.

Understanding fully what Elendil probably was about to say, Andrea Ravensburg added: "Don't worry..."

"That is the second time you say that today, Andrea."


Meanwhile, in the parking lot outside the restaurant, John Baylor sat in an inconspicuously parked car, a generic Eurasian Systems two-door something from the early 2540s, when Eurasian Systems made some of the most deliberately inconspicuous-looking cars designed within the last 50 years. It was painted in a very inconspicuous colour; a dark, slightly brownish red.

He held a parabolic microphone in one of his hands, which he then aimed at the restaurant and then turned on.

Baylor was surprised and shocked by what he was hearing.

He then muttered after a while: "Purple tomatoes. Green chili which look red. I wonder what the hell they mean with that."