Текст книги "Dog Warrior"
Автор книги: Wen Spencer
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
"Neutralized," the Buffalo Get stated.
The Ontongard then bombed Eden Court, reducing the grand mansion to smoking rubble.
"This part we don't understand," Ice murmured.
"Female host has interacted with breeder," the Buffalo Get said.
"Prime's breeder?" the Boston Get asked.
"Prime's," the Buffalo Get said.
"Capture and contain," the two spoke in duet.
"Contained female," Buffalo reported. "Incubation, nine months."
"Incubate." Again the duet.
Ice leaned in, stabbing a key to pause the conversation. "What are they talking about? Ping is the only female missing."
Ukiah had avoided all thoughts of Ping and the night he spent with her and Core. Beyond the raw emotions of his rape lay the whole ugly inevitability of conception; he was a breeder and she had been all but painted with the breeding drug, Invisible Red. All the implications—from Indigo's reaction to another woman bearing his baby to the Ontongard holding Ping—and therefore his unborn child—churned in his stomach like icy snakes.
"Well?" There was fear and hurt, but also steel resolve in Ice's eyes.
"They have Ping," Ukiah admitted. "She's pregnant. They're keeping her alive and untouched until she has the baby."
"So she hasn't been possessed?" Ice asked.
"No."
As Ice relaxed, Mouse restarted the recording.
"Breeder contamination/infection/adaptation detected in one male," the Buffalo Get reported in Ontongard. "Survival possibility excellent."
Breeder contamination? Core was dead, and he was the only male Ukiah had interacted with for any length of time. They had to be talking about the missing Parity—but how? True, high on Invisible Red, Ukiah had nearly choked the boy to death, but that was just minutes before the Ontongard captured Parity. There couldn't possibly have been enough time. Ukiah flashed back to the beating he gave Parity in the hall. Wait, the contamination was already in Parity's blood . . .
Mouse had paused the recording and the cultists looked at him expectantly.
"What did it say?" Ice demanded.
How could Parity already have been infected? Realization dawned on Ukiah. "Did Parity handle my son at any point?"
"The nephilim?" Ice looked surprised at the question. "Yeah. It bit him in the leg; he needed stitches. Why?"
"They're planning to possess Parity; he's probably one of them now. Anything he knew, they now know."
Which included everything about him and Kittanning.
"Shit," Link hissed. "At least he was just an initiate."
Ice looked troubled but signaled Mouse to continue the recording.
"Contain breeder," Boston said.
"Current whereabouts of breeder unknown," Buffalo reported. "Aware hosts more dangerous than previously thought."
"They must not be allowed to interfere with the priority project," Boston and Buffalo stated together.
"Returning to confer," Buffalo said, and hung up.
"This was Saturday morning. There haven't been any more phone calls."
"Does Parity know about this place? Sanctuary?"
The cultists looked at each other.
Mouse shook his head. "No. Until the demons hit Pittsburgh, Sanctuary was restricted to inner circle only."
"Ping knows where it is," Ether pointed out.
"She wouldn't talk," Link said.
"She's alone with the demons," Ether said. "She has to be scared shitless. Who knows how long she can hold out?"
"Go check on the fortifications," Ice said wearily. "All of you."
"All?" Mouse squeaked like his namesake.
"Yes, go on," Ice said.
Cultists scurried off to obey him, leaving Ukiah alone with Ice.
Ice sighed. "We got back to Butler to find Eden on fire. I parked across the street and walked through the gardens. Crowds of people had gathered; the entire neighborhood had come to watch the great house burn. I saw themstanding in the crowd, like ravens among mourning doves, only no one seemed to notice them. Like they were blind to the evil beside them. There were bodies sprawled on the grass, covered with white sheets, stained with bright red flowers of blood. I couldn't tell who it was—Core, Ping, Io—but there was nothing I could do but turn and walk away."
Ice fixed his cold stare on Ukiah. "Where were you while it burned?"
"I was flying to Pittsburgh." Ukiah had managed to escape to the nearby Butler Memorial Hospital. The fireball from Eden going up had convinced the staff to fly Ukiah via the Lifeflight helicopter to Mercy Hospital in Pittsburgh. All things considered, it had been a fortunate decision.
Ice's eyes widened slightly at the news. "Oh, demons can't fly—but I guess that's part of being an angel."
Ukiah swallowed down an automatic "I meant by helicopter." It would be best not to shake the cult leader's belief.
Luckily, Ice was cuing up another recorded telephone conversation. "We'll step you backward from Saturday. We want to know what this priority project they're working on is."
"Tell me first, where are the founts?"
Ice stopped what he was doing to give Ukiah another cold look. "Why?"
"The demons created the founts for the sole purpose of wiping out humans." If the Ontongard found the highest order of native life on a planet too difficult to take over, they used the Ae to design a species-specific disease and wiped them out—settling for a less advanced species as a host. Since their own intelligence depended on their host, the Ontongard were reluctant to take such a drastic step. "They were holding them in reserve because they thought their invasion at Buffalo would work. They had been planning for centuries for that day, and until June they thought they would win."
"So why did they wait until September to check on them?"
Why indeed? With the FBI and the cult being new pressures on the Ontongard, why hadn't they acted?
"I don't know," Ukiah admitted. "But the founts are deadly. You can't use them. Don't even try."
"We've identified over a thousand demons, and managed only to kill less than a hundred. They have superhuman strength and speed, and now we learn they have telepathy. They can take massive damage and regenerate. Last Thursday we were fifty people; now we're down to twenty, and we're being hunted by demons that know all our secrets. We need to strike first, and strike hard, or we're not going to survive."
"The founts are too dangerous. You could accidentally kill everything on the planet."
"Core had a saying that truly applies: Would God give us the gift if he didn't mean for us to use it?"
Ukiah stared at him, horrified. "You can't be serious."
"God put Core at the car accident where he learned about the demons. He connected Zip with Core to give us access to the founts. A thousand little connections had to line up just perfect for us to find the founts and learn how to make them work. The chances were billions to one, and yet, we have the founts. Isn't that a miracle enough?"
What was the nature of miracles? Did the happenings have to be impossibilities, or merely extremely unlikely? Certainly it was stunning what the cult had accomplished, from decoding the Ontongard language to making advanced technology work without instructions. Ukiah could not believe, though, that God wanted the destruction of humanity.
"It's too dangerous," Ukiah said again. "You have no idea what you're doing. You're just guessing at this."
"Then help us. Surely God put you into our power so that we can use you."
He opened his mouth to say no, but then remembered that Atticus would play along, gathering information. He considered the computers around him, filled with the cult's databases. The cult didn't seem to realize that the Ontongard had genetic memory with perfect recall. While he had talked with Ice, he also overheard a conversation in the kitchen, and shouted instructions from the cultists outside.
And if he couldn't find the key to stopping the Ae, maybe he could keep the cult from misusing them.
"I am helping you," he said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Temple of New Reason Commune, Sanctuary Island,
Atlantic Ocean
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Ukiah worked through the night, translating and learning about the Ontongard and the cult. The island acted as the cult's ultimate data haven, with high-speed satellite Internet service and IP telephony. The last was a frustrating temptation. The phone sat on the desk beside the monitor he used, but since he didn't know where the island lay, he wasn't sure if calling out would have any point. GPS in regards to phone service was on the crumbling edge of his knowledge of technology. Part of his ignorance came from the fact that he was still fairly new to civilization. The rest was due to his lack of interest, until three months ago when he had received Rennie's memories, in learning all of the bells and whistles life had to offer. He knew land-based phones and cell phones could be traced, but IP telephony? He didn't know. He ached to find out, but the cult never left him alone.
He was dealing with the same type of problem with the translations. While in Oregon, he had noticed that his Pack memories were disintegrating, his "borrowed" memories being crowded out as he grew toward being a full adult. The Ontongard had been guiding technology development in dozens of small high-tech firms across the country, each one building tiny parts to be shipped to Boston to be assembled into something much larger. After the pieces had shipped, the Ontongard were dismantling the companies to keep their secret. But he was at a loss as to what they were building. Either he had never had the knowledge, or it had worn away over the months of hard living and dying.
But the most terrifying hole was in the last twenty-four hours, there was a tiny gap of what he had done between Animal dying and calling Max.
He had lost a mouse.
Or the cult had stolen it.
Neither was good.
He found excuses to roam the house: going to the bathroom, getting something to drink, raiding the refrigerator, stretching his legs by pacing the large living room. On these forays he couldn't sense any of his mice, but a small collection of cells had a limited range to their telepathy. Whereas he could spot Atticus anywhere on the island and the combined Dog Warriors from miles away, he would almost need to stand on a single mouse to sense it.
In desperation, he insisted that he knewthat Schrцdinger needed to be outside to go to the bathroom, claiming inside angel knowledge, and that he could use some fresh air. The cult reluctantly agreed, but tripled his guard, kept him within fifty feet of the house, and sent Mouse along as an escort. The night was cold and clear. To the west, the moon gleamed on the ocean like a massive field of silver flowers. He was thankful the kitten did its part to uphold his ruse and buried its waste in the loose sand. Ukiah circled the house, using up his hoarded gum, picking up occasional bright pebbles to examine. The cult had drawn heavy black curtains on the expansive windows, keeping in the light so no passing boats would realize people were living on the island.
"It's really not safe out here in the dark." Mouse shivered in the freezing wind. "We've got land mines everywhere."
Ukiah slipped his most recent find—a thumb-sized disk of matte black stone—into his jeans pocket, picked up Schrцdinger, and went back in, none the wiser on the location of his mouse.
As they walked into the house, the phone rang.
Mouse froze, a look of utter terror on his face as he stared at the phone. It rang again, the noise jarring in the sudden stillness of the house.
Ice came running down the stairs and paused at the bottom of the steps. "Was that the phone?"
The phone rang in answer.
"We're all here," Mouse whispered.
Ice approached the phone with caution and snatched it up as if it were a poisonous snake, barely holding it to his ear. "Hello?"
Ukiah's keen ears caught the voice on the other end.
"Ice? Is that you? It's Parity."
"Parity?" Ice gasped as if punched.
"Parity. Only Parity—no one else. None of them. But listen—they know where you are! They're coming to get you. They're pissed as hell and they plan to make you all one of them."
"H-h-how?"
"It was so hard to think straight at first. I had to tell them something so I gave them some old addresses—places I knew you wouldn't be. I told them about the boat slip. When we found the wolf boy there, I managed to slip away long enough to clear out my head."
"How do they know about the island?" Ice growled.
"Ping—Ping told them. They've got her at Totten Pond. I haven't been able to get to her. She said something about the wiretapping. They traced the tap back to the satellite provider and you're the only connection within miles of that GPS position."
Ice glanced upward as if to see the satellite overhead, pinpointing them.
"You've got to move before they get there. They'll be there in force—like a hundred of them. You've got to get out! I'll get hold of you later, somehow. I've got to go."
The phone clicked to silence but Ice stood there with the phone to his ear for another minute, pale and stunned. Finally he hung up, whispering hoarsely, "They know where we are. Start an evacuation."
The cultists remained still, reflecting his shock.
"Where are we going to go?" Ether finally asked.
"I'll think of something," Ice said. "Go on. Grab only the bare necessities and get them down to the boats."
"We just believe him?" Link said.
"We don't have a choice." Ice sighed heavily.
Link started to protest, "But he didn't sound like one of—"
"Move!" Ice shouted, and flung the phone at Link.
The cult scattered like a flock of frightened birds.
Ice focused on Ukiah. "Is it possible? Could he be one of them—and yet not be?"
Prime had been a mutation—a sole individual—but they didn't know why. What had caused Prime to be different? If Parity had been exposed to Kittanning, the Ontongard, and Invisible Red, maybe he had built up a resistance.
"Yes or no?" Ice hissed.
Ukiah replayed the conversation with Parity, listening to the words and the tone of voice. There had been a slight drag, but it wasn't Hex's emotionally dead intonation. There had been fear, sorrow, and true concern—things a Get seemed incapable of understanding despite its human form, its original personality drowned under Hex's alien mind. "Yes. He might be something new."
"Do you know what they're building yet?"
"No."
Ice gave a weary sigh. "We're running out of time, angel."
***
An hour later, Ice declared that ready or not, they needed to leave. "Meta, get the angel down to the boat."
The tall, burly cultist caught Uriah's elbow and guided him toward the door. Ukiah snatched up Schrцdinger, determined that the kitten wouldn't be left to the mercy of the Ontongard.
Outside, Ice pulled Mouse aside, saying, "Link, we're all out of the house. Set the defenses and come down to the boats."
"Keep to the path." Meta urged Ukiah down the hill to the boathouse. "It would be inconvenient if you got blown to pieces now."
Ukiah wasn't sure if Meta was teasing him or not, but kept to the graveled path. Ice and Mouse trailed behind, arms over each other's shoulders, heads close together, deep in whispered conversation.
There seemed to be some kind of preplanned system, as the twenty cultists split themselves in orderly fashion between the two boats. Ukiah found himself firmly escorted to a boat called the Ashpool.
Ice and Mouse stood on the dock, the younger man crying openly.
"We're going ahead with the Cleansing," Ice said. "Take the angel and go south."
"South?"
"As far south as your diesel will get you."
Link came dashing down the path. "Everything's set," he said, and scrambled on board the Nautilus.The engine revved up and the boat started to pull away from the dock.
Ice hugged Mouse fiercely, kissing him on the forehead. "Go on. Live for us."
Ice jumped onto the Nautilusand the boat leapt forward away in a spray of water.
Ukiah was on the wrong boat to stop Ice.
***
They went south as fast as the Ashpoolwould take them, the cultists silent as the big engines roared. The Nautiluswas nowhere in sight, and the island quickly vanished behind them. Ukiah huddled in the corner of the stern's sitting area, with Meta in the opposite corner, keeping close watch on him.
He'd screwed up. He should have done something, anything, although even now he wasn't sure what.
He considered his options. There was the radio, but he still didn't know where he was, where Ice was heading, nor where the Ae were, except they hadn't been loaded onto the boats. His chances of overpowering all ten cultists to steer the boat to land, which presumably lay off to the west, were laughable.
He eyed his guard. Meta was pale and unfocused, as if the heaving boat were making him seasick. Ukiah wasn't prone to motion sickness; after the first few minutes of jiggling, his body would ignore his inner ear as alarmist.
"Are you okay?" Ukiah shouted over the engine's roar. When Meta didn't respond, Ukiah leaned over to prod the cultist. "Meta?"
Meta's eyes rolled up to white and he went rigid, his arms and legs stiffening and starting to jerk rhythmically.
"Mouse! Mouse!" Ukiah eased Meta to the floor.
The little cultist appeared at the cabin doorway, swore, and hurried to Meta. "Oh, no, not again."
"What's wrong with him?" Ukiah made way for Mouse.
"It's Blissfire withdrawal!" Mouse turned and shouted for the other cultists. "Oh, God, please don't die, Meta. Please don't die."
Ukiah found himself pushed to the bow of the boat as the other cultists crowded around the fallen Meta. Qwerty had a small bag that she dipped her fingers into. She painted a glittering cross onto Meta's forehead, and then, as others pried open Meta's jaw, coated the inside of his mouth. It was doubtful Meta could be saved once the drug triggered its extermination subroutines, but apparently the cult had pulled others back from the brink, using a new dose of the drug to override the kill order. Qwerty kissed the unresponsive man, her tears falling on his face and the hands of the cultists holding him still.
Rolling thunder pulled Ukiah's attention away from the desperate scene. A 747 jet passed low overhead. Its flaps were up and its landing gear down. It vanished from sight over the shifting horizon, but he could hear the whine and roar as braking jets kicked in.
It was landing at Logan Airport. Boston was just over the horizon.
It felt heartless to take advantage of Meta's collapse, but it might be his only chance to slip away. He had to get to Boston. He had to stop Ice.
Grabbing the rail, he swung over the side and dropped into the ocean. He let himself sink for a moment, and then angled off so that when he surfaced, he was on the other side of the boat.
The cultists had stopped the boat. Mouse and other male cultists were scanning the rolling waves, presumably as the females worked to save Meta.
"Ukiah! Wolf boy!" Mouse shouted, as another male said, "I don't know how long angels can hold their breath. He might not even be down there anymore. He's an angel!"
Ukiah ducked under the water, kicked off his shoes, and swam until his lungs felt like they were about to burst, then surfaced again. He was alone in vast shifting waters with only the echoes of jets to guide him.
***
It was a lot farther to Boston than he imagined.
***
He found the first lobster trap by accident. A wave was rolling him down a plane of water as he swam and he saw a Tide detergent bottle floating in the water. Four years of Boy Scouts told him that detergent bottles made good floatation devices in a pinch. He detoured and caught hold of it, hugging it to his chest. It was a relief to float there, at rest in the chilly water. It would have been perfect, except the bottle was anchored to something far underwater. It puzzled him for a while until he realized it was a lobster trap and the Tide bottle was a buoy marker.
He bobbed in the waves, panting, weary, nothing but water in sight.
He'd been insane to leave the boat.
He knew he couldn't stay with the lobster trap buoy, but he didn't want to let go. It was starting to dawn on him that drowning was a real possibility. Strange, except for being hit by cars and shot, he'd never pushed his body to its limits before. Max had always been there, reining him in before he'd collapsed, shoving food into him, keeping him safe from his own stupidity. Any normal human wouldn't have jumped off a perfectly fine boat, blithely assuming he could swim to an unseen shore.
Atticus probably wouldn't have been so stupid.
What the hell did he think he could do once he got back to Boston? While the cult had unknowingly supplied him with information on the Ontongard, their plans remained a mystery. He had no money, no shoes, and no weapons. The Pack would have moved dens, making finding them nearly impossible. And it seemed unlikely, now, that he'd even survive to reach land.
He tugged at the knots tying the buoy to the trap, but tension and time had rendered them impossible to untie. He chewed at the rope, hoping to fray it, but several minutes of gnawing produced no noticeable effect.
Nothing to be done but abandon the tiny haven of safety and swim on.
***
There were a surprising number of lobster traps in Boston Harbor.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Atlantic Ocean
Thursday, September 23, 2004
Later Ukiah would recall the boat bearing down on him, and the blare of horns. As it was, though, the Coast Guard officer seemed to appear in the water beside him like magic. He was far too weary to do anything once they hauled him into their boat but huddle around the mug of hot cocoa they gave him.
"We're taking you to Mass General Hospital."
"N-n-no," he forced out between chattering teeth. "No hospital."
While hanging from lobster buoys, he had pieced together a plan. It was filled with things he had originally wanted to avoid, but facing death, they grew less unpleasant. Atticus was one of them.
"My brother—he's at the Boston Harbor Hotel." The Pack had plucked the hotel name from Atticus's memory during his test. "D-d-drop me there."
"We really should take you to the hospital. You're hypothermic."
"I-I-I'm fine," he told them. "P-p-please—hotel."
In the end, they dropped him on the wharf in front of the hotel. He squelched his way into the lobby and stood dripping on the marble floor as he waited for the elevator. It was easy to find out which floor Atticus and Ru were on—running his hands over the buttons inside the elevator, he found the one they'd pushed to get to their rooms. He went down the hall sniffing, smelling mostly the Atlantic Ocean soaked into his skin.
He found their rooms. Atticus wasn't there, but someone was moving around inside. Teeth chattering, he knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" Kyle called.
"U-U-Ukiah."
"Step back from the door," Kyle said.
Ukiah leaned against the far wall.
Kyle had his pistol in hand when he opened the door and scanned the hall. He relaxed once he saw they were alone. "Why are you wet?"
"I-I-I was swimming."
Kyle sniffed at the north Atlantic stench. "You need to clean your pool."
Ukiah laughed weakly.
"So, what do you want?"
"A sh-sh-shower and something to eat—f-f-find the cult—w-w-world peace."
"You mean, like, use our shower?"
Ukiah nodded, sniffing.
Kyle paced back and forth, trying to decide what to do. Down the hall the elevator dinged, signaling its arrival. The sound decided it for Kyle. He reached out, caught Ukiah by the shirt, jerked him into the room, and slammed shut the door.
"Okay. Okay. Everything's cool." Kyle motioned toward the adjoining room with a king-sized bed. "You can use Atticus's bathroom and I'll call room service."
***
It felt weird to be using Atticus and Ru's bathroom, the counter strewn with toothbrushes and combs and deodorant, the hotel's shampoo ignored in favor of their own. It seemed like an invasion of their privacy. Out of habit he fumbled through his pants pockets as he stripped. The cult had managed to strip him of his wallet yet again—the only things in his pocket were the gum wrappers and the pebble from Sanctuary Island. He dropped the gum wrappers into the trash, but the pebble slipped through his trembling fingers to land among Atticus's things, disappearing from sight.
Ukiah eyed the crowded counter. Where did it go? Under the toiletry bag? He lifted the corner of the bag and nearly knocked over a bottle of expensive aftershave. With a sigh, he abandoned it; he'd look for it once he stopped shivering.
***
Ukiah stood in the steaming hot water until he heard room service at the door. He stepped out of the bathroom, towel pinned around his hips, drying his hair, to find a stranger in the room with Kyle and the food.
The stranger glanced at Ukiah and made an exasperated noise. "Johnston's been telling me he didn't know when you were getting back."
Kyle looked over his shoulder at Ukiah in surprise. "But this isn't—"
"Zip it, Johnston," the stranger snapped. "Where the hell were you?"
Ukiah guessed that "the shower" wasn't the answer the stranger was looking for. "I was kidnapped by the Temple of New Reason."
"Where is your partner?" the stranger asked.
Partner?Ukiah froze. What did he want with Max?
"Takahashi is with the Coast Guard," Kyle said, making it obvious this man thought Ukiah was Atticus. "Out looking for . . . him. Hikaru will be back in a couple hours."
He felt guilty now that he had misled the Coast Guard into thinking he had only suffered a boating accident. They'd taken his name but apparently not checked if anyone was looking for him.
The stranger looked at his watch. "Fine. Call me when he gets back."
"Who the hell was that?" Ukiah asked after the door closed behind the stranger.
"Our boss. Sumpter. He came in with room service."
Kyle had ordered stuffed rabbit with peppers, pea shoots, and onions, three types of strong-smelling cheeses he didn't recognize even after several years of Max's tutelage; a plate of pistachios, macadamia nuts, and almonds; and lastly, chocolate desserts. Protein, protein, protein with a shot of pure sugar.
Kyle fidgeted in silence as Ukiah ate, and finally fell into report mode, as if he wasn't comfortable with carrying the main bulk of the conversation. "I sent your clothes down to be washed. They said they wouldn't be ready to be picked up until tomorrow morning." Realization dawned on him. "I guess I should get you something to wear until then."
Finally given a task, Kyle ticked down the needed clothes, providing T-shirt, boxers, sweatpants, socks, and a pair of tennis shoes out of Atticus's luggage. None of the suitcases were unpacked, only canted open, ready to be zipped shut and taken at a moment's notice.
"Where isAtticus?" Ukiah asked around a mouthful of the rabbit.
"He and Ru are out searching for you. The coast guard is flying them to various islands where the cult might be hiding."
Actually this worked well with his plans. Atticus didn't have Pack memory; he didn't know the dangers that the Ontongard represented to the world, so it was extremely unlikely he would help Ukiah raid one of their dens. Nor did Ukiah want to put his brother's "family" at risk, not when the Pack was available to help instead.
"Can I use the phone?" Ukiah didn't wait for permission, glancing at the instructions for getting an outside line and then dialing Indigo's number while Kyle was still trying to form an answer. Without a vehicle or money, his only hope of contacting the Pack was via whoever was guarding Indigo. Unfortunately, her number dropped him straight into voice mail. "It's me, Ukiah." He paused, not sure what else to say—he wasn't sure how long he'd be staying in Atticus's hotel room. "I got free of the cult and I'm safe. I'll call you back."
"I don't know—" Kyle managed to get out as Ukiah pressed the reset button and dialed Max.
"Bennett." Max answered the phone with a snarl worthy of the Pack.
"Max, it's me."
"Ukiah! Where the hell are you now?"
Ukiah explained about his kidnapping and escape, which got an "Oh, Jesus, Ukiah, you didn't!" from Max and a "You just jumped off the boat?" from Kyle, who up to this point had been pretending not to listen.
"You're lucky you didn't drown," Max snapped. "Who's there with you now?"
"Kyle," Ukiah said. "He's one of Atticus's best friends. He knows everything. Max, I know where the Ontongard are holding Ping."
"You want to rescue Ping? After what she and Core did?"
The curse of a perfect memory meant it took only one mention of his rape to shove Ukiah back to the night that Core drugged him with Invisible Red and shared him with Ping.
. . . candles lit the mom to a soft glow. Ping knelt on the white satin sheets of the king-sized bed, dressed in a black robe so sheer it seemed to be only shadows. Core checked Ukiah just short of the bed, and Ping stretched with false casualness, the candles silhouetting her lithe form as she arched her back, lifting her breasts. To Ukiah's disgust, his body responded. He wanted to say no, but his mouth wouldn't shape the words. The breeding drug held his will captive, freeing his body to its artificial desires. He started to growl instead. Ping parted the gauze robe aside enough to reveal her sex, and it glittered with Invisible Red.
She stroked herself there, and lifted her damp, glittering fingers to him." Come to me."
Ukiah's legs stoned to move, carrying him to her, while he could only snarl in helpless anger. A moment later, he felt Core's nude body beside him . . .
Ukiah pushed the memory away. "Yes, I want to rescue her."
He had had lots of time to think, out in the ocean. He hated her for using him, and that the child she carried could destroy his ties with the ones he loved most—Indigo and the Pack. But he didn't hate her enough to wish what the Ontongard planned for her. "She was part of the cult's inner circle. She knows all their secrets. She'll know where Ice has the Ae, and what his plans for 'the Cleansing' are."
"You're not thinking of doing this alone?" Max asked.
"I'm taking the Pack—once I find them."
"Good," Max said. "So where's this den?"
"I just have a street name, no number: Totten Pond Road."
Kyle sat down at his computer and started to type as Ukiah spelled it out to Max. "That's in Waltham."








