Grady's Awakening

Chapter Eight

Bill Sinclair felt a tingle in the shafts of his feathers that meant another of his kind was near. They hadn’t understood why, but of the battalion of men created with wings, all had the ability to sense when another of their kind was close by.

Now that Bill had spent time living among humans and their special abilities, he almost thought it might be a manifestation of some kind of rudimentary psychic ability, but he was no expert. Still, there was no doubt that if he was aware of the other winged warrior, that same warrior was most certainly aware of Bill’s presence.

He’d dreaded this moment.

There was no way to hide and if he ran, the other warrior would see him and know that Bill—former Sinclair Prime—wasn’t dead. Either way, he was in trouble. He’d been found out. And all this time, he’d worried about the humans figuring out what he was. He should have worried more about his former brethren.

There was nothing for it but to confront the danger head on. Bill would not be shot in the back or captured fleeing.

Bill launched himself into the air, rising above the tree line with powerful strokes of his wings. He knew his brother waited for him up there, in the air that was their domain alone. There were so few of them. He knew every single one of the men who used to fly at his command. They were his brothers, his friends, his sons. He missed them more than he ever would have imagined before gaining emotions, though he doubted any of them would ever understand the depth of his loss when he’d had to cut himself off from them and all he had ever known.

He’d forged a new life for himself among the humans. He was needed here. He helped keep them safe. He was useful. That’s all he could ask for in life—what life was left to him now that he faced the daily specter of insanity. But he wouldn’t trade the freedom and revelations of the past few months for the world. He lived a full, rich life. He knew what it was to feel—really feel. Nothing could compare with that and even if he ended in madness, it had all been worth it.

He rose above the uppermost branches and did his best to hover on wings that were meant to glide. He looked around as he circled, trying to spot his brother of the skies. The other winged warrior wasn’t far away.

Bill signaled to the man he recognized as one of the young Dougals. He was a fast flyer and possessed a steady temperament. All in all, Bill could have done worse. If anyone had to find him, Dougal 17 was a good choice. The young man was smart enough to listen and might still be impressed enough with his former rank to be susceptible to persuasion.

The best of all possible worlds would be if Bill could convince the younger soldier to turn around and forget he’d ever seen him. Although he knew that outcome wasn’t very likely, it was within the realm of possibility. More likely was the prospect of convincing Dougal 17 to temper his report to his superiors. Bill might be able to get him to alter the record of his exact location if he could get Dougal 17 to believe he would be protecting innocents by doing so. The winged brethren never harmed innocents. It was part of their creed.

Flying closer, the two winged men circled as they descended through the canopy of trees. They’d have to land if they wanted to have any meaningful conversation. Bill took it as a good sign that Dougal 17 was willing to talk.

They landed and faced each other. Bill felt the pull on his heart, seeing one of his brethren for the first time since his emotions had become fully active. He missed his men. Missed them to the point of heartache.

“You’re looking well, Dougal 17.”

“As are you, Prime Past. I was sent to look for you.”

“Just to look for me? Not to eliminate me?”

“Those were not my orders, sir. I came only on a reconnaissance mission. The Patriarch himself gave me the order.”

“How is Ronin Prime? Still hatching his plans, I suppose.”

Dougal tilted his head, clearly not understanding the intonation in his voice. “The Patriarch looked well when I last saw him. He is a sturdy being for a wingless one.”

Did he detect the barest hint of pride in the young warrior’s voice?

“What is your message then, Dougal 17?”

“The Patriarch sends his compliments and wishes you well. He also cautions that you can expect company soon.”

“Company is not welcome here, Dougal 17.” Bill felt anger welling up in his soul. “I will leave before I put innocent humans in more danger. You may report back my location, but I will not be here if it will lead to a threat to those under my protection. In fact, I would prefer that you do not report my exact location. There are those nearby who have good reason to conceal their presence from all Alvians, and I respect them too much to put them deliberately in danger.”

“My orders are to report back directly to the Patriarch. No one else. He suggested you might feel this way if I was fortunate enough to locate you. He bade me give you his promise that your human companions will be protected. He also wanted me to tell you that the time is fast approaching when they will no longer be able to hide. The foreseers in the clan have foretold of a time not far off when humans from all over this continent will band together. The Patriarch believes that you will play a significant role in this occurrence. It’s why he tasked me with finding you.”

Bill was conflicted. On the one hand he lived for danger, conflict and confrontation. On the other, he knew concealment was the best option not only for himself but for those he lived with now. Yet the Zxerah Patriarch had sent specific information gleaned from the human clairvoyants adopted into the Brotherhood. Living among humans and watching over the O’Hara ranch had taught him the real value of such premonitions.

“I don’t like the sound of this but I thank you for passing on his words. The fact remains, no Alvians are welcome here. Please remind the Patriarch of that fact.”

“I will.” The young soldier moved back, then hesitated. “We were lost when you left, sir. The new Prime has done well but it took some time for him to gain the confidence and respect of the men. In many eyes, you are still our leader. I am pleased to have found you alive and thriving.”

The innocent words touched Bill deeply. “I have missed you, my brother, more than you will ever know.”

“Do you regret the experiment, sir?” The young soldier’s head tilted as he considered him.

“Not for a single moment. I wish you could feel just a fraction of what I experience, Dougal. If you could, you would understand.”

“I hope someday I’ll be able to, sir. I must return to base. Having found you, my mission is complete. I must report back.”

“I understand, son.” The word rolled off Bill’s tongue much the way he’d heard it used among his human friends, but he’d never used the term himself. It felt good. It felt right to acknowledge the relationship of teacher to student, father figure to son, leader to subordinate. He held out his hand, gratified when Dougal took it. The handclasp was a gesture among soldiers—among brothers in arms. He’d missed the companionship of men like him who had trained their whole life in tactics and combat. He’d especially missed the company of those who could fly. “Clear skies to you, Dougal. Please give my regards to the Patriarch, but tell him I will brook no interference in my new life. The Council believes I am dead. It is best to keep it that way.”

“Now more than ever, it appears the Patriarch goes his own way. Only rarely does it match the way of the Council.”

“The Patriarch has always been a wise man. I’m trusting him—and you—not to betray me, or the people who have helped me.”

“For my part, I wish you no harm, Prime Past. I do not believe the Patriarch holds any ill will toward you either.”

“I hope you’re right, Dougal. Fair winds on your journey back.”

“And to you, sir.”

The soldier left with a final sign of respect. All in all, that had gone better than Bill had expected. He knew the Patriarch to be a thorough man and realized he shouldn’t have been surprised to find a scout had been sent out to look for him. The only truly shocking part was that it had taken this long to be found.

Bill started through the woods, taking a circuitous route to the entrance of the underground complex where he lived with an ever growing population of humans, and one very special Alvian woman. Jaci was on the run every bit as much as he was, but she had her mates to keep her safe and share her life. She was a very lucky woman indeed.

Gina spent a restless night behind the locked door. Jim made her feel things she never expected and didn’t really know how to deal with. She was confused about her body’s response to Jim after the tempestuous night she’d spent with Grady. Was she becoming a slut? Had years of abstinence in the Zxerah compound resulted in some kind of weird sexual craving that was finally forcing its way out? Even her habitual meditation didn’t help much. By the time she actually fell asleep it was nearly morning. When the door finally opened, she blinked awake with abnormally groggy eyes.

“Get up, sunshine.” Jim was disgustingly cheerful in the morning. That had to count against him.

“Good morning to you too.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes and blinked a few times, hoping to clear the sandman from her vision.

“Here.” Fabric flew across the few feet separating them to land with a whoosh on the foot of the bed. “You clothes checked out. Get dressed. We have a big day ahead of us.”

Reluctantly, she edged out from under the thin blanket. She still wore the baggy jumpsuit he’d given her the day before. It was scratchy against her skin, but it was better than nothing to sleep in. It was good to have her own clothes back. The Alvian-engineered fabric was soft and resilient, and much quieter. When she moved in those clothes, there was not even the whisper of cloth brushing against cloth. She hadn’t really realized how loud that sound seemed until she’d moved around a bit in the heavy cotton of the jumpsuit.

Woodenly, she took her black clothing into her arms and headed for the small bathroom. Jim let her go with no comment, merely resting against the door to the room, watching her with an amused curl to his lips as she shut the door.

She used the toilet, washed her face and tried to clean her teeth as best she could, then dressed gratefully in her own clothes. When she emerged from the bathroom, Jim was still leaning back against the door, waiting patiently.

“Are you always this grumpy in the morning?” The teasing note in his voice warmed her, even though she knew it would be safer to stay on a less emotional footing with him.

She’d had a lot of time to think about the situation the night before when she couldn’t sleep. Jim was a figure out of her past and that alone made her want to trust him, but he’d proven beyond the shadow of a doubt that their past wasn’t enough for him to return the favor. That so-called search had disturbed her on many levels.

First, she’d felt betrayed. Jim had known her in the old world. He’d known her family—her father and brothers. That should have counted for something, but instead he treated her worse than a stranger. He’d treated her with suspicion and hostility, and even a bit of animosity.

Second, she wondered if he’d only been using her. If his claims were true and he didn’t partake of the females he protected within his community—if protection was indeed all that was offered and given—then the body cavity search that had devolved into a quasi-sexual encounter might’ve been something real between them, something legitimate. But, on the other hand, if it was just the big bad male asserting his dominance over the little female, she should have punched him in the nose. In fact, she was still considering it.

“You’d be grumpy too if you had to sleep in that itchy fabric.” She’d left the much-despised jumpsuit in the bathroom. Her Alvian-made clothing was much better. It didn’t stain easily, it made no sound and it didn’t smell, even after a hard workout. The fabric had been engineered specially by the Zxerah over many generations, to aid them in their work.

Jim’s lips widened into a grin and she fought hard against the butterflies flitting around in her stomach. The man hadn’t lost any of his appeal over the years that separated her teenage crush on the young operative studying martial arts with her father and the hardened, world-weary man he was today. She was attracted to him whether she liked it or not.

“If you’re ready, I’ve got breakfast waiting in the conference room. We have a lot to discuss.” He levered himself up from his leaning position against the door and motioned for her to precede him, but as she drew closer and put her hand on the doorknob, he reached out, closing one hand over her arm. “I’m sorry about last night, Gina.” His voice was pitched low, the intimate rumble vibrating through her. “I didn’t mean for things to get out of hand. I won’t apologize for what happened between us, but I will apologize for not being able to trust you. Things happened here in the past. Things that were my fault for being too trusting. I hope you can understand and forgive me.”

She looked up at him, trying not to let the appeal in his eyes get to her on an emotional level. It was a losing battle. He was already under her skin, but she had to fight against it. Her Zxerah training didn’t erase emotion but taught her the value of controlling it. No emotion, the Zxerah had learned, was a detriment to a warrior, but too much was equally—if not more—incapacitating. A balance was required. In all things.

But Jim had already shot her equilibrium to hell.

“I think I understand. So does this mean you trust me now?”

He stepped closer, his subtle scent surrounding her, his warmth tempting. His eyes smoldered down at her as one of his brawny arms snaked around her middle and drew her right up against him.

“I’m getting there. Gina…” Her name was a whispered caress as his head dipped.

This kiss he claimed was one of mastery, of possession, but it was also the sweetest foray of exploration and tenderness she’d ever experienced. He seduced her with his lips, his tongue, his heat. She succumbed readily. No matter the chastising talk she’d had with herself deep in the night. This was not to be fought against. This was a force of nature. He was a force of nature. Inevitable and unwavering.

Only one other man had brought out such a response in her. She felt a pang of uneasiness as Jim lifted his head, ending their kiss. In that moment, the image of Grady’s handsome Alvian face appeared in her mind. He’d kissed her just this way, with the same tenderness, respect and ardor. He’d touched something hidden down deep inside where she hadn’t known it even existed. Jim touched off those same feelings and he unintentionally reminded her of Grady and all they’d shared.

“What?” Jim breathed the question as he searched her gaze.

Gina turned away. She couldn’t face this now. She couldn’t deal with these confusing, conflicting thoughts. How could she let Jim kiss her but think about Grady? And how could she think about Grady and still be attracted to Jim?

“We should go,” she said into the silence. She knew Jim was looking at her with questions in his eyes, but they were questions she couldn’t answer. Not now. Perhaps not ever.

She had no answers for him. Or for herself.

The conference room was full of people when she entered with Jim a few minutes later. The three men from the night before with there, eating breakfast with others she hadn’t yet met. All were male, but some of the newcomers didn’t have that same soldier swagger as Jim and his top lieutenants. They looked more like accountants. Rugged accountants, sure, but still with that scrawny, geeky look that only developed when you spent the majority of your life in an office behind a desk.

Jim led her to the small buffet that had been laid out on a side table. He passed her a plate and she filled it, surprised by the bounty of eggs, bacon and good fresh bread.

“You do all right for yourselves down here, don’t you?” She directed her question to Jim, but it was one of the newcomers who answered.

“This facility is very self-sufficient. We were able to adapt several areas to house livestock including chickens, hogs and even some cattle. The hydroponics areas only needed seeding, which we did in the first few days of settling our families here.” The man held out his hand for her to shake, using the other to adjust his glasses on the bridge of his nose. “I’m Wallace Dexter. I was the lead scientist in this facility before the crystal bombardment started. You can call me Wally.”

“Gina Hanson,” she replied politely, shuffling her plate into one hand so she could shake with the other.

“I know.” The scientist grinned at her. “I watched you win gold at the Antwerp games. You were terrific.” His enthusiasm reminded her of the old days when people—fans really—had often stopped her on the street or in restaurants to say hello and ask for autographs or pictures. She’d never taken their adulation for granted but had always made time to talk with each and every one.

“Thank you, Wally. Antwerp was really the high point of my career, but that was a long time ago.”

“Yeah,” Pierre agreed, gallantly taking her plate and escorting her to a seat at the table. “She’s even better now. You should have seen her take on the boss last night. Gave him a real run for his money.”

Wally took a seat next to her, still smiling, while Jim sat quietly on her other side. Pierre went to his seat across the wide table after sending a teasing wink in her direction.

“I believe it,” Wally said, still enthusiastic. “Jim’s good, but very few could ever match what I saw in Antwerp.”

“Young Dex is almost as good as she was back then,” Jim offered, making Wally beam. Only then did Gina notice the young man sitting on Wally’s other side. They looked a lot alike.

“This is my son, Wallace Junior,” Wally introduced the younger man.

Where Wally was built like an accountant—or the scientist he actually was—his son was something altogether different. Wide shoulders and sleek muscles filled out his frame, and he had the eyes of a wolf—cunning and dangerous. He was a warrior. A young warrior, but someone to be reckoned with, she was sure.

“They call him Dex, short for our last name,” Wally continued, oblivious to the sizing up going on in both directions. “Because you can’t have two Wallys now, can you?” He laughed and Gina responded politely, smiling at the older Dexter.

“My dad’s told me about your bouts. I even saw some old DVDs he has of the Antwerp games. You were damned good, Ms. Hanson.” The young man was polite but not gushing the way his father had. He was more serious than his scientist dad. More serious and watchful. Very little got by this young man, Gina thought, and she respected him for his vigilance. The world was so different now. Without the protected environment of the underground facility, she doubted Wally Senior could have lasted this long.

She thanked Dex for the compliment and turned her attention to eating breakfast. The men were all halfway through, and she didn’t want to hold them up. Whatever required this many people to discuss had to be pretty important. Her curiosity was piqued, but she would bide her time until they got around to the reason they had all gathered together. She let the conversation flow around her, participating when she was asked a question and offering comments here and there.

Wally explained the history of the base while she ate. He was a gregarious sort of person who liked to talk and probably rarely met strangers. She didn’t mind at all. In fact, his openness was refreshing and also very helpful since Jim, like most warriors, was reticent. He wouldn’t talk much about himself, she knew, so Wally was a good source of information.

As breakfast wound down and the table began to clear of plates and utensils, they were replaced with large rolls of yellowed paper. They looked like rolls of schematics or some kind of engineering drawings, but she couldn’t tell much more until they were unrolled. Her curiosity was an annoying itch she hoped would be scratched soon.

When Jim cleared off his plate and turned to her, she was about ready to scream. She wanted to know what was in those rolls and patience had never been her strong suit.

“Now.” Jim resumed his seat. “As to the reason we’ve all gathered here.” He looked directly at her. “We’ve known about the other NORAD locations for some time. As you just learned, a lot of the personnel who had been stationed here, stayed here, bringing their families to live in safety. As a result, most of the knowledge about the systems and capabilities of this facility has been retained. For instance, your map confirmed old maps we already had indicating the locations of sister facilities—both hidden and known. What we didn’t know was which ones survived the cataclysm and which ones might house human survivors.”

“We’ve been working on clearing the tunnels for a long time,” Wally put in.

“Tunnels?” Gina asked, intrigued.

Jim signaled for the rolled drawings, opening them up when they slid across the table to him. Gina took a minute to try and figure out what she was looking at.

“This is a drawing of one of the lower levels of this installation. This is what we call the transit level.” Wally sounded excited as he shared his knowledge. “In the old days, there were a couple of tunnels leading from here, through the mountains to the north, south and west. None of the tunnel engineers survived, but the commanding officer, General Yeager, told me about them. They were made to house maglev pods that were used occasionally to shuttle the higher-ups from facility to facility covertly. There’s one tunnel in particular that I think leads to the Canadian installation. We’ve explored most of the tunnels for some distance past the blast doors and that one is the clearest.”

“Are you saying there’s some kind of subway that will lead you right to the Canadian site?” Gina was amazed by the thought, but then, NORAD had been a very well funded government program designed to protect the North American continent from things like intercontinental ballistic missiles. It shouldn’t have surprised her that they could build something like this. And it could come in darn handy, if it still worked.

“Better than a subway.” Wally sat forward in his chair. “It’s maglev—magnetic levitation. The system uses electricity to create a magnetic field. The car, or pod, doesn’t actually touch the rails. It floats above. There’s no friction, so the speeds it can reach are dramatic. In the old days, when the system was being maintained on a regular basis, the hundreds of miles between here and the Canadian facility could be traveled in a matter of hours.”

“That’s remarkable,” Gina was both pleased and amazed by the idea that the system might still be usable in some fashion. “Does this maglev thing still work?”

“I’ve had it powered up a number of times, and it’s functional to the point we’ve been able to explore. I would advise caution however, beyond the scouted area. There may be obstructions on or near the rails that we don’t know about. You could still use it, at reduced speeds, as long as you watch ahead for obstructions. There are lights in the tunnel and lights on the pods, so even if the tunnel lights no longer work in sections, the pod lighting is independent and will still allow you to see for some distance.”

She turned to look at Jim. “He makes it sound like we’re going somewhere.”

“That’s because we are.” Jim grinned at her, and her tummy did a little flip. “We talked it over last night and decided we should try to make contact with our neighbors to the north. If anybody’s living there, we should see if they want to open up communications. At the very least, we could share information.”

Gina felt hope take hold and expand in her chest. This was going to work. They were going to take a chance on making contact. It was the first step in the plan the Patriarch had laid out for her. She might yet succeed in her mission and humanity might have a fighting chance after all.

“We’ve explored up to this point and the tracks are sound.” Wally flipped through the large drawings until he reached a section of tunnel that looked a lot like all the other sections of tunnel that preceded it to her untrained eye. “That should give you a good few hundred miles or so of fast coasting. After that, you’ll have to take it slower.”

Jim took hold of the pile of drawings and flipped to the beginning. “Each section of track, as I understand it, is powered separately. We’ll have to get out and flip a switch every once in a while, right?” He brought the scientist back to the beginning with ease, and Gina realized he’d probably done this before.

But Wally’s enthusiasm was undimmed as he explained. Jim had been so diplomatic in his choice of words that he hadn’t hurt anyone’s feelings. Gina was pleased to see the brash young man she remembered had been tempered by time.

“Yes. There are certain points, here…” he pointed to a spot on one of the early drawings where the tunnel took a sharp turn, “…and here. You’ll have to apply brakes at a predetermined point. There’s actually a switch on the rail that will trigger it for you if you’re on automatic, but it’d be safer if you drove manually since these rails are old and we’ve only been up this far once before.”

“What do we do then?” Gina was curious about the system and wanted to be sure she knew as much as she could about it before they set off into the unknown.

“There are power grids that will allow you to power down the previous section of track and power up the next section. You’ll have to have both powered up for a short time as you coax the pod onto the new set of rails. I think they designed it this way to conserve energy by powering a section at a time. This is a long line of track and the mountains above dictate the shape of the tunnel in some spots. It creates sharp angles that are impossible to glide around at speed. By having to stop and manually turn the vehicle, it adds time to the trip but also a factor of safety to the journey. Of course, the generals and other bigwigs who used this system in the past had aides with them who did the grunt work. In this case, you’ll have to do it yourselves. I suggest one gets out and sees to the power grid while the other maneuvers the pod.”

The scientist babbled on about technical specifications and exactly how to work the apparatus, but one thing was clear to Gina as she listened with one ear. She was going with Jim. Alone. Nobody else would be accompanying them on this excursion. She didn’t know what that meant. Did Jim want to use caution when approaching the Canadian encampment? If so, she thought it was prudent, but she also thought they could take at least one or two of his men with them.

She wasn’t sure why he was making this a solo trip for just the two of them, but then, she hadn’t expected to be able to make the journey in just a matter of a few days either. She’d fully expected to have to go over land—by foot, if necessary—evading Alvian patrols all the way. This maglev tunnel would save an incredible amount of time and if it really worked, it might open up yet another secret road of communication and even transportation between the human encampments. This could be a real breakthrough for human freedom.

When Wally finally wound down, the questions started in earnest. Each of Jim’s lieutenants had questions relating to the safety of the tunnel and what to do in case of problems. Jim also talked about how to best approach any strangers he and Gina might encounter along the way and at the other end of the line. He particularly asked about other entrances to the tunnel system, which Gina thought was a really good question. Who knew what might be in those tunnels? It was a good idea to know how and where they could get out if they had to.

“There are access tubes leading to the surface in several places along the tunnel’s path,” Wally explained, indicating various points on several different drawings. “After the blast doors, which we keep closed for safety reasons but will be opening and manning while you’re gone, there are no access points for about fifty miles. Then they begin to appear closer together. Mostly, that section of tunnel is in the literal middle of nowhere. The terrain is too rugged for even the hardiest of mountain men to live in, so chances that anyone’s found their way into the tunnels is remote at best. If you find the way blocked ahead of where we scouted, you can always climb out of the pod and hike to the nearest access tube. There should be a ladder leading upward and the way should be clearly marked. At least, all the tubes we’ve encountered in the length we’ve been able to search were well designated and in good condition.”

Gina liked the sound of that. She’d never been fond of enclosed spaces and wasn’t looking forward to spending so much time underground. She wasn’t claustrophobic, but the thought of being underground in unexplored sections of tunnel that had somehow survived the earthquakes and upheaval of the cataclysm gave her the creeps. It was good to know there were ways out should they run into problems.

The questions eased finally, after about an hour, but the biggest question of all loomed big in her mind. Finally, she just had to ask.

“This is all great, but when do you plan on us going?”

Jim looked at her, and she had a hard time reading his expression. “The sooner the better. How about we set out this afternoon?”

“All right.” Well, he certainly didn’t let any grass grow under his feet, did he? Gina was taken aback by the speed with which he was acting, but she knew it was for the best. The human race was already behind the eight ball. The sooner they came together to fight for their freedom, the sooner they would be free.

She thought it was appropriate that the struggle for freedom start in North America. The place that had once been the home of the greatest human democracy ever to grace the planet. It would start here, in the center of the old United States, hopefully in partnership with the Canadians. But they were all humans now, not Americans or Canadians. Just humans, fighting not for a country, but for freedom itself. Hopefully it would start here and spread to every corner of the globe.

From here, smaller pockets of human resistance in what had been Europe, South America, Africa, Australia and the Asian continent would be united in the fight against Alvian domination. The Zxerah kept tabs on human activity all over the world, ready to coordinate and aid where possible when the time was right. Any day now, the time would finally be right.