Deadly Memory (Living Memory Book 2), page 12
The lab was crowded when she got there. Two VIPs, a man and a woman, were standing in the observation deck to watch Charlie feed. Samira didn't know who they were, presumably military bigwigs or congressional staff involved in providing the black budget for this whole operation. She wanted them to leave. It was going to be hard enough to get any time alone with Charlie, and impossible with this kind of attention.
Hunt was there, narrating the show, more gregarious and charming than she'd ever seen him. She played along like a good pet scientist, answering questions about him like a docent at the zoo. The microphones in his cage had been shut off. Apparently, a speaking dinosaur was one marvel too many for the bosses to swallow.
Samira thought about switching them on and engaging Charlie in conversation. She wanted to see the shock on their faces, but most of all she wanted them to know: He's not an animal. He's not a golden goose you can squeeze and out comes a mind-control drug. He's a person.
She didn't, though. As much as the thought pleased her, she knew she couldn't control what happened next. Instead of a person, they might see him as a threat. A weapon was one thing; an intelligent weapon with its own ideas and agenda might be more than they could accept.
Why wouldn't they just leave? She needed to ask Charlie for help, but she couldn't do that with anyone else around.
Finally, far later than she wanted, the VIPs filed out with Hunt and his staff, leaving her and Paula alone with Charlie.
Paula yawned. "That was two hours of my life I'll never get back. I still haven't finished those budget numbers for Hunt yet."
"Go ahead," Samira said. "I can handle things."
"You're sure?" Paula asked. "We're behind on the cleaning checklist; there's a lot to do here."
"I've got it. Go write up your numbers."
Paula flashed Samira a grateful smile that made her feel a bit guilty. "You're a lifesaver. Seriously, though, call me if you change your mind."
"I've got it," Samira said again. She waved her hand. "Run along, now, I don't need you."
"Fine, if you put it like that," Paula grumbled, but she made her way to the door, leaving Samira alone.
Samira switched the microphones and speakers on immediately. "Hello, Charlie."
“Hello, Samira.”
“I have news for you.”
“News?” Charlie had no sense of voice inflection, but she was starting to recognize some of the slight scents that he used to characterize his communications. She could smell the question mark, and realized he was unfamiliar with the word.
“Yes, news. Um, new information. Something to tell you.”
“Tell.”
She took a breath. She had already delivered the shattering news that he was the only one left of his species; now she had to tell him she might have been wrong. She had briefly debated withholding the information, but then decided she had to tell him. What if she woke up to discover that intelligent cockroaches ruled the world, and she would never see or speak to another human being again? It was the least she could do to tell him that another of his kind had survived. “There might be—might just possibly be—another one of you. Another one of your species, still alive in the world.”
Charlie went rigid, his protofeathers sticking out around his neck, and another flood of scent reached her, though this one she couldn’t identify. “Who?” he asked.
The question surprised her, but then she realized he must be making the obvious assumption—that the surviving maniraptor was one he knew. A relatively small number of pits had been built, and Charlie had been instrumental in preparing them and convincing others to use them. His assumption might be right.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t even be certain it’s true. I heard from a friend, who heard from another man, who claims to have seen it.”
“We go there,” Charlie said.
“No. We can’t go there. It’s on the other side of the Earth.” She realized she had never explained to Charlie that he was now thousands of miles away from where his body had been discovered. “If there really is another maniraptor, it’s being held by other humans. They won’t let us come.”
Charlie shifted from foot to foot, growing more agitated. Samira realized it might have been cruel of her to hold out this hope and then snatch it away, when he understood so little of the modern human world. There was very little chance he would ever be reunited with a maniraptor held by the Chinese government. They might never even get confirmation that one existed.
“I have a favor to ask you,” she said. “Or at least a question. My friend—the one who told me the news—he’s in danger. The people who hold the other maniraptor are looking for him. They are using scent, maybe the scent they took from it, to control and hurt other people, and they want to capture or kill my friend. I want to help him.”
It was a long story, and she waited to see if his grasp of English was enough to understand.
“They take scent from other one,” he said.
“Yes.”
“They use to hurt humans.”
“Yes.”
Charlie paused. Finally, he said, “You take scent from me.”
Samira drew in a sharp breath. He was right, of course. They still put him to sleep on a regular basis and extracted chemicals from his scent glands for military research. She hadn’t thought he could know about that, but presumably when he woke, he could feel what had been done. Maybe the process left his glands sore, or less ready to produce scent as usual. She couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t even protest that the military would use it for good purposes, because she wasn’t sure they would.
Her silence lasted too long.
“I’m sorry,” she finally said. “That’s what the people who run this place want. That’s the only reason they keep you alive.”
Prey struggled to understand. It wasn’t just the language, but the human culture and thought process that was hard to grasp. Samira spoke patiently, working around unfamiliar terms, trying to explain to him how her world worked. It was hard for him to wrap his mind around the idea of a world filled with billions of individuals, coordinating their civilization on a scale that dwarfed anything his people had ever done.
She explained about nations—like roosts, only much larger—and how her nation competed for power with another one. She explained how chemicals derived from his body could be used to dominate other humans. He didn’t understand, at first. Of course, scent chemicals were used by the strong to dominate the weak. That’s how society worked.
But no, of course it wasn’t with humans. They dominated each other through words and through technology and the organization and constraints of their society. Chemical domination was a new thing for them, something that subverted existing structures and gave more power to those who controlled it.
“I know you can create chemicals that do many different things,” she said. “I saw a memory once where a maniraptor chased away predators by producing a scent that provoked intense fear. Could you create a chemical like that for me?”
He watched her, thinking. The humans already took what they wanted from his body without his permission. He was their prisoner, no matter how well Samira treated him. What would happen if he refused her request? Would they torture him until his body created the chemical they wanted against his will?
“You take it from me?” he asked. “For your leaders to use?”
“My leaders don’t know,” she said. “I won’t force you or take anything against your will. I’m asking for your help so I can help my friend.”
When Alex arrived for the evening shift, Samira headed out.
“Anything eventful?” he asked.
“Not really. VIP tour earlier.”
Alex grimaced. “Gotta love those.”
She slipped out, taking her bag with her. It looked like a gym bag, but besides a change of her own clothes, it contained a large plastic Ziploc filled with several damp T-shirts. As long as no one opened them or looked too closely, she’d be fine.
She reached her car with nobody stopping her and drove away. She’d almost expected that Everson would have had her under surveillance, and she’d reach the gate to find a dozen military rifles pointing in her direction. No one looked at her twice.
She drove to the nearest post office and got there just before it closed. She pulled a large mailing box from the display and, blocking the view with her body, pulled each Ziploc from her gym bag and carefully closed them all inside. She copied the address of an apartment in Bangkok onto the envelope and approached the front desk. A gray-haired woman in glasses stood behind the counter, stamping packages and tossing them into a bin.
“I’d like to mail this to Thailand, please,” Samira said.
The woman rummaged in a drawer and handed her a customs form, which she dutifully filled out. She wrote “six T-shirts” and estimated the value at six dollars.
“Does it contain anything fragile, liquid, perishable, or hazardous?” the woman asked, reciting the words like a mantra.
“Nope,” Samira said, though she almost laughed at the question. It was certainly liquid, though most of it was soaked into the T-shirts. It was also arguably one of the most hazardous materials on Earth.
“That’ll be $34.65,” the clerk said.
“How long will it take to arrive?”
“Six to ten business days.”
Samira shook her head. “Is there any way to get it there faster?”
“You can send it expedited. That’s three days.”
“Let’s do that.”
The clerk pressed a button. “That’ll be $64.27.”
Samira handed over the money. As the clerk processed the label, Samira’s eyes drifted to the television hanging overhead. BREAKING NEWS, the banner said along the bottom of the screen. The news anchor’s cheeks were flushed, and he was almost hyperventilating with the drama of the information he had to convey. The volume was set low, but Samira could make out the words.
“...have just confirmed that the two Americans at Saint Joseph Hospital in Denver have been positively diagnosed. There is no longer any doubt: the Julian virus has made its way to the United States.”
Denver. Samira felt something slide sideways in her belly. Saint Joseph was only twenty minutes from her apartment. She gripped the counter for support. The post office clerk heard it, too, and almost dropped Samira’s package.
“According to doctors, neither patient had traveled overseas within the last year, leaving the question of how they became infected in the first place as a mystery. Are other residents of Denver walking around with the virus? Or did it arrive via a shipment of food or other material from another country? The CDC is encouraging anyone in Denver who has traveled overseas in the last three weeks and is vomiting or running a high fever to see their doctor. Anyone vomiting blood is especially urged to see a physician as soon as possible.”
The hospitals were going to be overrun, Samira thought. She had to get back to the apartment. She had to call Beth. This whole thing had suddenly hit too close to home.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Pak was a traitor, and he knew it. He had been able to convince himself that so much of what had happened in the last year was not his fault. He hadn’t meant to kill poor Nikorn. He hadn’t meant to become a mule for a drug cartel, or join Princess Sirindhorn’s makeshift army. He hadn’t chosen any of it; it had simply happened to him. None of it felt like his life.
But he had chosen to betray the princess. He couldn’t argue his way around that. He had given that shadowy woman the information she wanted, and she had given him money in return. All the drug labs had been attacked based on his information, and the special chemical stolen. He’d thought the princess’s control would collapse after that, but he’d been wrong. She had done the impossible, marched to the palace, and taken over the government with no drugs and no weapons, armed only with the love of the Thai people.
Pak was deeply ashamed of his betrayal. Queen Sirindhorn was a truly good person, one who brought evil men to justice and freed the innocent. She deserved his loyalty. He had thought to take his money and go home, but that would be just another betrayal. She was in trouble. If he could die to protect her, he would do it gladly. His life wasn’t worth very much, even to himself, so if it could be useful to her, he would willingly sacrifice it for his queen.
Only she wasn’t queen anymore, not really. Those men from China with their smelly flowers and insincere smiles were running things now.
Pak didn’t have much education, but he wasn’t stupid. He understood that the chemical the Chinese soaked their flowers in was the same chemical the queen herself had used to make the worst of the Red Wa soldiers kill themselves and the others follow her. He even understood that it was the same chemical that had made him hallucinate a giant bird and kill poor Nikorn. Most of all, though, he knew that the queen needed help.
Which was why when he saw Kittipoom Chongsuttanamanee, the former Science Minister and the queen’s friend, skulking around the palace grounds, he said nothing. As a guard, it was his duty to report anything suspicious, but he just watched the man instead. He watched him observe the palace each day, and he watched him follow Colonel Zhanwei into the city. He heard the colonel when he returned from that trip disheveled and furious, ordering a warrant for Dr. Chongsuttanamanee’s arrest.
That’s when Pak decided it was time to act. He was tired of letting life happen to him. He might never get his old life back, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t make his new life count for something. If they caught him and he went to prison or died, well, that was no more than he felt like he deserved.
When Dr. Chongsuttanamanee appeared across the street from the palace gate again, Pak was the first to spot him. He left his guard post and crossed to intercept him. When Dr. Chongsuttanamanee saw him coming, he ran, but Pak ran after him. Pak was younger and faster and finally caught him after two blocks.
“Stop!” Pak said. “Wait, I am a friend.”
“Let me go. You have no right to hold me.”
“I want to help you! I want to help you rescue the queen.”
The scientist’s face went still. “What makes you think the queen needs rescuing?”
“You know why. She’s not in charge anymore. They’re making her say whatever they want her to say, and now she’s going to marry some Chinese man she never met before. Also, you should stay away from the palace. There’s a warrant out for your arrest, after what you did to the colonel. If anybody else besides me spots you, they’re going to find a dark hole to throw you in and never let you out again.”
“Who are you? And how do you know what I did to the colonel?”
“I’m nobody. Just a guard,” Pak said. “I came with you and the queen from Tachileik. Before that I was in Khai Nun. I don’t know what you did to Colonel Zhanwei, but I saw you follow him, and he came back furious. If we’re going to make a move, we’d better do it before he tracks you down.”
Dr. Chongsuttanamanee gave him a calculating gaze. “We?”
Pak shrugged. “The queen needs our help.”
The other man was silent for a moment and then shrugged. “Come on.”
He led Pak around a corner and into an alley, away from anyone passing by who might overhear. “What’s your name?”
“Pak.”
“Well, Pak, I need to get into the palace. Is that something you could help me do?”
“Easy.”
“Easy? They’ve got twenty agents with a mind-control chemical, not to mention the whole Royal Army at their beck and call. It might be possible, but it won’t be easy.”
“I can get you in. That’s what’s easy. The question is, what will you do then?”
“I’ll tell you once we’re in,” Dr. Chongsuttanamanee said.
Pak crossed his arms. “This isn’t going to work if I don’t know the plan.”
“How do I know you’re not going to just turn me in?”
Pak huffed in frustration. For a university professor, the man could be pretty dumb. “If I wanted to, I could have called a dozen soldiers out to chase you down. I wouldn’t need to trick you.”
“Fine.” The man smiled nervously. “It’s not exactly a plan. But I have something we can use.”
“You have some of the chemical, don’t you?” Pak said.
“Not yet. But I should be getting some. It won't be processed in a lab, like what the Chinese are using. It won’t control anyone. But it will make them afraid.”
Pak thought about that. It might be enough. Or it might not. “I might be able to get some myself. The real kind, like they use.”
“From the Chinese? They’re not just going to leave it lying around.”
“One of them took a mistress from the staff,” Pak said. The thought of it made him sick. “He uses the chemical to make her do what he wants. I can convince her to steal it.”
“That would be incredibly dangerous for both of you.”
Pak got angry. “What’s dangerous is her staying in that palace every day. Just because that man likes the look of her, he makes her do anything he wants. He destroyed her life. If she could kill him, I think she would.” After all the queen had done to overturn sexual slavery in this country, it was now happening right inside the palace, and no one could do anything about it. Pak wanted to kill them himself.
“Okay,” Dr. Chongsuttanamanee said. “Steal it then, if you can, and bring it to me.”
“Not so fast,” Pak said. “This stuff is the worst invention in history. Worse than all the guns and bombs in the world. It gives men a terrible power, and before I get some of it for you, doctor, I want to know what you mean to do with it.”
Dr. Chongsuttanamanee placed his hands together and bowed his head in a deep wai. “Call me Kit,” he said.
“Okay. Kit. What will you do with it?”
“I, too, want to free Queen Sirindhorn, but I want more than that. I want to find the source of this horrible weapon, which Zhanwei tells me is in Yunnan province. And I want to make sure no one can ever control anyone else like this again.”
