World After

6

SAN FRANCISCO International Airport used to be about twenty minutes north of Palo Alto if there was no traffic. Of course, the highway is clogged now and driving sixty miles an hour is no longer feasible nor a good idea. But no one seems to have told Dee-Dum that. He takes open side roads in our SUV, weaving through abandoned cars and thumping over sidewalks like a drunken race-car driver.

“I’m gonna be sick,” I say.

“I’m ordering you not to,” says Obi.

“Ah, don’t say that,” says Dee-Dum. “She’s a born rebel. She’ll puke just to make a point.”

“You’re here for a reason, Penryn,” says Obi. “And throwing up in my car is not part of it. Buck up, Soldier.”

“I’m not your soldier.”

“Not yet,” says Obi with a wide grin. “Why don’t you fill us in on what happened at the aerie? Tell us everything you saw and heard, even if you think it won’t be helpful.”

“And if you have to get sick,” says Dee-Dum, “shoot for Obi’s direction, not mine.”

I end up telling them almost everything I saw. I leave out all things Raffe, but I tell them about the endless angel party at the aerie with champagne and hors d’oeuvres, costumes, servants, and the sheer decadence of it all. Then I tell them about the scorpion-angel fetuses in the basement lab, and the people being fed to the scorpions.

I hesitate to tell them about the experiments on the kids. Will they put two and two together and suspect that these kids might be the low demons who were tearing people apart on the roads? Will they suspect that Paige might be one of them? I’m not sure what to do, but I end up telling them in vague terms that kids have been operated on.

“So your sister, is she all right?” asks Obi.

“Yes, I’m sure she’ll be back to herself soon.” I say this without hesitation. Of course she’s all right. What else can she be? What choice do we have? I try to radiate confidence through my voice despite the worry that gnaws at me.

“Tell us more about these scorpion angels,” says our other passenger. He has wavy hair, glasses, and rich brown skin. He has the air of a scholar who’s getting his geek on over a favorite topic.

In my relief to change the subject from Paige, I tell them every detail I can recall. Their size, their dragonfly wings, their total lack of uniformity that’s so unlike lab specimens you see in the movies. How some of them seemed embryonic but others looked nearly fully formed. I tell him about the people trapped in the tanks with them, getting their lives sucked out of them.

When I finish, there’s a pause as everyone absorbs my tale.

Just as I think this question-and-answer session will be easy, they ask about the demon who carried me and dropped me off at the Resistance rescue truck during the aerie attack. I have no idea what to say so my answer to all their questions is, “I don’t know. I was unconscious.”

Despite that, I’m surprised at how many questions they ask about “the demon.”

Was he the devil? Did he say anything about what he was doing there? Where did you meet him? Do you know where he went? Why did he drop you off with us?

“I don’t know,” I say for the umpteenth time. “I was unconscious.”

“Can you reach him again?”

That last question squeezes my heart a little. “No.”

Dee-Dum does a quick U-turn to avoid a backed-up side road.

“Anything else you’d like to tell us?” asks Obi.

“No.”

“Thank you,” says Obi. He turns to look at the other passenger. “Sanjay, your turn. I hear you have a theory about the angels that you want to share with us?”

“Yes,” says the scholar holding up a map of the world. “I think that most of the killing during the Great Attack could have been incidental. Sort of a side effect of the angels coming here. My hypothesis is that when a couple of them enter our world, it’s a local phenomenon.”

Sanjay pricks a pin through the map. “A hole in our world is created which lets them come in. It probably causes some kind of local weather disturbance but nothing too dramatic. But when an entire legion comes through, this is what happens.”

He punches a screwdriver into the paper. The handle and his hand also go through, tearing the map.

“My theory is that the world rips when they invade. This is what triggered the earthquakes, the tsunamis, the weather disturbances—everything catastrophic that caused the majority of the damage and deaths.” Thunder rolls through the gray sky as if to agree with him.

“It wasn’t the angels themselves who controlled nature when they invaded,” says Sanjay. “That’s why they didn’t create a giant tsunami to swallow us up when we attacked the aerie. They can’t. They are living, breathing creatures just like us. They may have abilities we don’t have, but they’re not godlike.”

“You’re telling us that they killed this many people and they weren’t even trying?”

Sanjay rakes his fingers through his thick hair. “Well, they did kill a bunch of people after we killed their leader, but they may not be as all-powerful as we initially thought. Of course, I have no proof. It’s just a theory that fits what little we know. But if you guys can bring back some bodies for us to study, we may be able to shed some light on this.”

“Want me to confiscate some angel parts from the hallways?” asks Dee-Dum.

I don’t joke about how he and his brother are probably dealing in angel parts, just in case it’s true.

“There’s no guarantee any of those parts are authentic,” says Sanjay. “In fact, I’d be surprised if any of them are. Besides, it would be much more helpful to study an entire body.” The shreds of the paper depicting our world lie drooping on Sanjay’s lap.

“Cross your fingers,” says Obi. “If we’re lucky, we might be able to bring you some live ones.”

I feel a flutter of unease. But I tell myself that they won’t capture Raffe. They can’t. He’ll be all right.

The two-way radio on the dash comes alive and a voice says, “Something’s going on at the old aerie.”

Obi grabs the handset and asks, “What kind of something?”

“Angels in the air. Too many to hunt.”

Obi takes a pair of binoculars from the glove compartment and looks toward the city. In most places he wouldn’t have a clear view, but we’re near the water so he has a shot at seeing something.

“What are they up to?” asks Dee-Dum.

“No idea,” says Obi looking through the binoculars. “There are a lot of them, though. Something interesting is going on.”

“We’re halfway to the city already,” says Dee-Dum.

“He said there were too many to capture,” says Sanjay sounding nervous.

“True,” says Obi. “But it’s a chance to find out what they’re doing. And you wanted angel bodies to study. The aerie will be the best place to find them.”

“I think it’s gotta be one place or the other, boss,” says Dee-Dum. “If we go to the airport, it’ll take everyone we’ve got to bag our targets, assuming they’re still there.”

Obi sighs, seeming reluctant. He speaks into the radio. “Change of plans. All vehicles head to the old aerie. Approach with extreme caution. Repeat, approach with extreme caution. Hostiles have been sighted. This is now an observation mission. But if you get the chance, bring back a bird specimen. Dead or alive.”