The Cure (39 page)

This was troubling, but Erin was still all but certain Kyle was still Kyle, on the basis of logic alone. But she did understand why this group wanted to err on the side of caution. “Are you sure none of the other Wraps have been infiltrated?” she asked.

“Positive,” said Fuller. “The Wraps know the telltale signs. They’re as subtle as a quantum signature, but their computer knows how to find them. The Wraps are clean, unless all three are being controlled. And since they alerted us to the Hive and the current situation in the first place, we know that’s not the case.”

“If you know the telltale signature,” said Erin, “why can’t you clear Kyle?”

“We haven’t yet zeroed in on the precise telltales for humans,” replied Fermi. “Again, we’re not even sure if infiltration is possible in your species.”

“Okay,” said Erin. “But I’ve been working with Drake for years also. How do you know I haven’t been infiltrated?”

“We heard your conversation with Drake,” replied Fuller. “He desperately wanted the cure and you didn’t give it to him.”

Erin nodded. “So what do you propose?”

“While we’ve been talking,” said Fuller, “with the assumption that we’d be able to convince you to help us, we’ve had a team brainstorm a credible cover story to enable us to put you and Kyle back on the field of play.”

“To do what?”

“We’ll give you a thorough briefing on that in a few minutes,” said Fuller. “But for now, I’d like to run a cover-story scenario by you and see if you think it will work.”

Erin nodded.

Steve Fuller pulled a cell phone from his pocket and less than three minutes later a man joined them, his right arm in a sling. The same man who had entered her motel room.

“I gave Captain Brock here and his men a difficult challenge,” said Fuller. “They needed to capture you both without harming either of you, but with a catch. They had to put Kyle to sleep before you, so that we could later convince him that you had prevailed and saved his bacon. So we couldn’t use overwhelming force or he wouldn’t buy it. The captain performed brilliantly, at great risk to himself, since the strategy severely tied his hands.”

Brock nodded at Fuller, acknowledging the praise. He then turned to Erin. “I really want to thank you for not killing me when you could have,” he said gratefully. He gestured toward his injured arm. “It was a brilliant shot. Taking me out of play without doing any permanent damage. I’m in your debt.”

“Yeah, well … you’re welcome,” said Erin. A broad grin spread slowly across her face. “I have to admit, I’m not used to being thanked by someone after shooting them.”

“Do you shoot a lot of people, ma’am?” said Brock.

Erin laughed. “No. You’re the first.”

“Good to know,” said Brock with just the hint of a smile. “In any event, my team has come up with a cover story we think is workable.” He went on to describe the fictional tale of Erin’s heroic rescue of Kyle Hansen from the Saguaro Inn. “And we found a great location you can credibly say you were hiding at while waiting for Kyle to recover. We were really proud of this one. Did you know there’s a dried-out river in Tucson?”

“Yes,” said Erin. “My roommate told me all about its history. The Santa Cruz.”

“Very good. Anyway, once we fly you back and set the stage, we were thinking of placing you there. Under a bridge. And leaving a Lexus for you at the airport.”

“A Lexus? How will I explain
that
?”

“You ever fly to any conferences with your advisor?”

Erin shook her head no.

Brock smiled. “Well, Kyle Hansen won’t know that, will he?” Then, with a shrug, he added, “And I’ve decided your advisor is the kind of man who would own a Lexus.”

48

WHEN ERIN PALMER
finally finished her account of what had transpired after Hansen had lost consciousness, he was speechless. For years he had believed Steve Fuller had turned on the Wraps, killing them all. All but Drake. And he had believed that Drake was dedicated to helping mankind.

And now this. Incredible. A ruthless species fifty-eight thousand light years distant. A species capable of seizing control of a Wrap emissary sent to Earth. As if the existence of Wraps on Earth, and the description of the Seventeen, weren’t mind-blowing enough.

And Hansen believed every word. There was no other way Erin could know about Fermi, or that one of the other Wraps was named Roddenberry. This was the only way to explain her shifting of allegiances, and the electronic devices Drake had found on her.

And it all made perfect sense. Drake’s actions in the garage were the most telling sign of all. Not only did he not behave as an avowed pacifist, but he seemed to take relish in their discomfort. Over the years, Hansen had caught Drake behaving in ways that clearly conflicted with what Hansen had originally been told about Wraps. But he had made excuses for Drake every time.

Hansen stared at Erin in wonder. “So they sent you back in as a mole,” he said. “So you could locate this, ah … H-Drake, and help Fuller stop him.”

Erin nodded.

“Is that why you wouldn’t sleep with me last night?” he asked suddenly. “Because you thought I might be, you know, H-Kyle?”

Erin laughed. “No. I’m convinced you’re human and they were being too paranoid. But I had a bug partially implanted in my skull. I knew Fuller and his people were listening in. I found the thought of a group of men around a speaker listening to our … noises … while we were having sex a little … inhibiting.”

Hansen made a face. “No kidding,” he agreed. “That could make anyone self-conscious. But what made you so convinced I wasn’t being controlled?”

“It has to be difficult to control a mind from fifty thousand light years away—even if you can send your thoughts out instantaneously. And, apparently, controlling a human is no easy task. The Hive would have had to start years ago. And what would be the point? It was already controlling Drake. Why expend the resources to control two people working side by side?”

“Well, let me reassure you. No one is controlling me.”

“Which is exactly what you would say if the Hive
were
controlling you.”

Hansen frowned. “Good point.”

“Don’t worry, Kyle,” said Erin with a smile. “As I’ve said, I have zero doubt. But I promised Fuller I wouldn’t risk telling you until after Drake was killed and your actions made it absolutely clear you hadn’t been infiltrated.”

“So the plan was to
kill
Drake?” said Hansen. “Killing him wouldn’t hurt the Hive. It would just abandon his mind at the time of death. Is there any way to just push out the hive-mind and save him?”

“I’m afraid not. Not according to Fermi. At this point, the Hive’s control is too strong. And if the Hive did leave Drake, it would be sure to kill him itself no matter what. Killing him is our only choice.”

Hansen pondered this. “Any chance Fuller didn’t buy Drake’s head fake with the homing devices?”

“I don’t think so,” replied Erin with a frown. “I think we’re totally on our own. Which Fuller promised me he wouldn’t let happen. In his defense, he had no idea Drake would discover his electronics and come up with such a brilliant misdirection strategy.”

“The Hive shows an impressive knack for deception.”

“True. But I’ll bet we’re still the champions in that category. I think the Hive is just a talented amateur. Our species are the true professionals.”

“Could be,” said Hansen. “But maybe not for too much longer. We’ve lost. You know why Drake left. To release the virus. And with Fuller tracking a decoy van, there’s nothing to stop him. The funny thing is that this cure will be a blessing to mankind in the short run. Even if it ultimately saps our drive and retards our scientific advancement. Even if it eventually causes us to lose a war we’ll never live to see.”

“Don’t be so sure we’ve lost,” said Erin. “Drake won the last round, true. And taking Fuller out of the picture hurts. But things may not be entirely what they seem.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t tell you,” she said. “Because Drake almost certainly has this garage bugged.”

Hansen’s eyes widened. This had never occurred to him. But she was right. It was obvious. Why else would they be left alone together, without any guards posted within earshot?

Drake had wanted them to chat freely. He hoped they would provide critical information before he even began an interrogation.

“Anyway,” continued Erin. “That’s the story. I may have left a few things out,” she added, nodding slowly and giving Hansen a wink at the same time. “But I think I covered most of it.”

Hansen stared at her intensely as though trying to read her mind. She had already disclosed there was a deeper picture, which she probably shouldn’t have. But for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out what it might be. They were restrained, weaponless, with no hope of backup. And Drake had doubtlessly finished releasing the virus.

Erin put a finger to her lips. Then she rolled her hand tight, the one that was lashed to the home gym. It was remarkable how small she could make it, and she had tilted her wrist slightly when the cuff was placed around it to gain extra room. Even so, even using her free hand to help pull her bound hand through the plastic bracelet, she could not remove it from her wrist.

Undeterred, her face a mask of pure concentration, she began to saw the skin of her wrist into the plastic. Blood began to seep out where she had cut herself, and she twisted her wrist in such a way as to coat all of it with a fine layer, using it as a lubricant. Hansen was amazed at her stoicism. She didn’t cry out in pain and her face continued to show nothing but determination.

Erin was about to try to slide her wrist free once again when the door from the house opened, and Drake, Burghardt, Gibb, and Zalinsky entered the garage.

Zalinsky took one look at Erin and raised his gun. “Having trouble with your cuff?”

Erin shook her head. “No trouble. Why do you ask?”

Drake glared at the muscular mercenary. “Just keep the gun on her and assume she can slip her cuff whenever she wants,” he said.

“Roger that,” said Zalinsky.

“So,” said Drake, facing the two prisoners. “Have you been having fun?”

“Don’t pretend you weren’t listening in,” said Erin.

“I was. But I didn’t catch all of it. I was busy releasing the virus, I’m afraid. And now it can’t be stopped.”

“How was it released?” asked Hansen with genuine curiosity.

Drake gestured to the short genetic engineer. “I had Max here separate it into thirty half-full perfume bottles,” he replied. “We wanted to make sure that it was properly scented, for good measure. I had previously hired thirty women to go to all the terminals at Denver International Airport and spray the perfume around. Pretending to apply it to themselves. I explained I was doing market research for a perfume company, and would later ask questions of passengers to determine if they had smelled anything pleasant at the airport or not.”

“Impressive,” conceded Erin. “What better place to begin a global infection than at an international airport?”

“Exactly,” said Drake. “Denver International is one of the top fifteen busiest airports on your planet. Even as we speak, infected passengers are jetting to every city in America, and most countries of the world. Within a few days, there will be infectious centers in thousands and thousands of locations worldwide. A virus this infectious doesn’t really need such a big head start, but why not?”

Hansen turned his head toward the genetic engineer and two mercenaries. “Did any of you hear our conversation in here?”

The three men all indicated they had not.

Figures,
thought Hansen. Drake would be sure that the bug in the garage transmitted only to him. But the human members of Drake’s team were here now. So maybe he could plant a seed of doubt. It would take considerable doing, but it might be possible. A malevolent hive-mind fifty-eight thousand light years away controlling Drake? The cure for psychopathy part of a grand plan to defang the human race? To get these men to believe this would be exceedingly challenging. But Hansen was determined to give it everything he had.

“You know I was Drake’s biggest supporter,” he said to the humans in the garage, speaking as quickly as he could since he didn’t know long he would have before Drake found a way to stop him. “But Erin convinced me Drake has played me for a fool. And he’s doing the same to you. So hear me out. Don’t let Drake muzzle me. The stakes couldn’t be higher. If you hear me out and I can’t convince you,
shoot
me.”

Gibb considered. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll hear you out. Why not? Tell us how we’re being played.”

“No.” said Drake. “Shoot them immediately!”

“If Drake has nothing to hide,” said Erin, “why is he suddenly so eager to kill us?”

Hansen caught the eye of the genetic engineer. “Drake told you he was the ultimate pacifist, didn’t he, Max? Does
‘shoot them immediately’
sound like the words of a pacifist?”

“I said to shoot them!” barked Drake.

Gibb hesitated.

Drake shook his head in disgust. “No matter,” he said. “None of you would have been useful for much longer, anyway.”

Suddenly, Burghardt and the two mercenaries sank to their knees, screaming in agony, the weapons held by the two mercenaries falling to the ground beside them. They continued screaming and writhing, as if their entire bodies were being sprayed with acid.

Hansen glanced at Drake, but he wasn’t moving and looked bored.

The screaming continued for several seconds and then all three men passed out, all at about the same time. An eerie silence filled the enormous garage.

Drake walked over to the three unconscious men, lifted one of their guns from the floor, and put a single bullet into each of their skulls, his expression never changing.

While Drake was going about this with cold-blooded efficiency, Erin redoubled her previous efforts to slide her wrist through the cuff, tearing more skin as she did so, but making sure this occurred on the top of her wrist so she didn’t cut through her radial artery. With one last heroic effort, shredding the skin on top of her wrist to the bone, she finally pulled it through.