Mechanisms of Death
an excerpt

Part 1 - Invasion

Chapter 1 Devon Meets Margarita

Dried blood, embedded nails and other pieces of shrapnel were still visible in the lightly tanned limbs that the terrorist’s bomb had torn from the woman’s torso. The arm and leg were preserved in a cryogenic case in the laboratory, brought out only for use by the National Science Foundation scientists assigned to study "US National Resource #1". And by approved visitors.

"How did she survive that?" Devon asked. Devon Armstrong was one of Canada’s leading forensic anthropologists. He had received a call from his American colleague the day before and hopped on the first flight from Calgary to Maryland.

"That’s the question you’re supposed to help me answer," Paul Fleming said. Devon and Paul had been roommates during their graduate studies at the University of Wisconsin. "Sorry for all this, I know how you feel about flying."

"Not to mention getting up so early in the morning." The flight from Calgary International had left at eight A. M. Calgary to Baltimore was not a highly traveled route, Devon had arrived in Baltimore’s Washington International airport at noon. Devon had had to deal with one of the older model planes that could not achieve the speed of the planes flying the more profitable routes. The thirty-nine year old scientist was not yet ready to try his hand at using a personal flyer, those "casket and propeller" deals that were coming into vogue as the way to travel among the younger set. A uniformed marine had picked him up at the airport to whisk him to the satellite NSF site. "So, what does she have to say about this?"

"She’s refusing to say anything."

"Maybe she doesn’t know herself."

Paul shrugged and pushed back his glasses. "Could be. I mean, could you explain how you regrow a toenail?"

Devon grinned. "Actually, on a biochemical basis the answer to that is quite trivial."

Paul pointed at the limbs frozen inside the case. "Yeah, well this may be trivial for a starfish or planaria, even the human liver, but a fully differentiated higher order mammal?"

Before Devon could respond a third man entered the room. He was a large man, at least twenty years older than Devon, and he moved with an air of power and authority. "So, Paul, is this Canada to the rescue?"

Devon laughed as he took the hand that was extended to him. "Canucks are always happy to assist our little cousins in the US whenever they are faced with a real problem."

"I’m Douglas Hemmings, National Science Foundation deputy director for this facility."

"Devon Armstrong."

"I understand you’re a ‘Diplomat of the ABFA’. Fancy title that means … what, exactly?"

"Devon has a doctorate in Anthropology," Paul said.

"I can speak for myself." Devon could see that the Deputy Director was not happy about having him there. "I didn’t come to trespass on your preserve, sir. The fancy title just means I’m a member in good standing of the American Board of Forensic Anthropology. I’m a physical anthropologist by training, so I know what to do with that," he gestured at the case holding the limbs. "I’m just not that familiar with dealing with the living. I’m usually asked to develop a biological profile of the deceased, not to try determining why someone is still alive."

The director nodded. "Actually, ‘cousin’, we’re glad you could come on such short notice. Paul gave you high recommendations. I’ve read several of your papers, and we’re all very interested in seeing how your protein analysis techniques can help us with this specimen."

Devon winced at hearing that word applied to a human being. "I was happy for the chance to see more of Paul than the occasional conference allows. I understand the rush, its no problem. I’m eager to get to work on something new. Besides, I have no life."

The two Americans laughed, not realizing that Devon was speaking the simple truth. After years of fruitless – no, aimless – searching, he had given up hope. No family, no wife, girlfriend. No possibility that out of the nine billion people on Earth in the year 2048, he would ever find the one woman who had haunted him ever since the moment of her birth. Twenty-two years, eight months, three days and God only knew how many seconds. It no longer mattered. He had passed his thirty ninth birthday a week earlier. It was past time for him to accept reality.

Paul grabbed Devon’s suitcase. "I’ll take you to your room, help you get settled."
Douglas interrupted them. "Perhaps your friend would like to get a look at the US’s ‘natural resource number one’ first?"

Devon nodded. "Yes, I admit to being eager to see how she looks intact." After one final glance at the well manicured fingers on the severed arm he followed the director from the specimen room down a long, well lit hallway that terminated in a set of metal doors. "You’re absolutely certain this wasn’t some kind of hoax?"

Douglas looked back at him and said, "First responders found the limbs next to her body, they reported multiple puncture wounds on her torso and face. Ditto with a man standing right behind her. He’s still in intensive care, and blind, but doctor’s are optimistic that he’ll live. DNA shows that those limbs are hers, unless she has an identical twin who dropped an arm and a leg on the scene and then vanished. We traced her back to Juarez, Mexico, there’s a number of siblings, she’s the youngest. No twin. She … by the time the ambulance reached the hospital … well, see for yourself."

Two armed Marines standing in front of the double doors pushed them open as the trio approached. Devon and Paul followed the director into a large chamber, packed with machines. Three man and a woman were attending the equipment. The wall opposite the door was clear glass. Visible behind that wall was a living room containing a female figure.

Her back was turned. But Devon knew the instant he saw her. His companions continued moving forward, leaving him standing still on shaking knees. He did not know her name or what she looked like. None of that mattered. She was here. Now.

Chapter 2 LUDA

Bautiful, near cloudless day, sky bluer than the endless ocean, waves designed for the two veteran surfers, Luda and Aaron Markovitch. Congressman Eddington had given his newest assistant a free day during the trip back to his home state, and Luda had arranged to meet with his brother. Timing was opportune, the beginning steps of his employers bid for the presidency came just a month before Aaron, a Captain in the Air Force, was due to report for training for the Mars mission that would separate then for the next year.

The two men stretched out on the hot sand. March sun had the air steaming, and most of the people on the beach were taking advantage of the increasingly relaxed dress code to show their southern California tans and physiques.

Luda struggled to squelch the jealousy that the more toned and defined muscles on his older brother’s torso roused in him. The rigors of military life, combined with the Markowitz predilection for engaging in extreme sports and physical activity had endowed both men with powerful builds and strong muscles, but military training had taken Aaron one step beyond. Luda resolved to see more of the gym once he returned to his home in Washington.
Aaron grinned "You know, little brother, the army would have been good for you, too."

"I am so tired of you reading my mind," Luda said. He was thankful that his brother could not literally read his thoughts. But both men had always experienced a closeness that went beyond brotherhood. They could not see each others innermost thoughts, but did see surface feelings, especially when they were together. "I’d rather race an avalanche down a mountainside. Much less drama."

"Not as far as mother was concerned. And you lost that race, remember?"

"But they dug me out. And I almost won."

Aaron lifted up on one elbow. "So, which one you like, brother? How about those twins?"

Luda looked in the direction his brother indicated. He did not see any twosome that appeared to be twins. "Which two girls are you talking about?"

His brother’s laugh made Luda blush. "Not twin girls. I mean the double handful sticking out of that red-head's chest."

"You want her, you go get her."

"And have Beverly kill me?" At the mention of his current girlfriend Aaron threw a glance over his shoulder as if expecting to see her there. The two had been together almost six months, an unheard of time for Aaron to remain with the same woman. "You forget, I live here, these people know me. The news would get back to her so fast my funeral would be yesterday."

"Does that mean wedding bells are in the works? Is she the one?"

"The one right now. Permanent … I don’t know." Aaron’s eyes shifted to Luda’s face. Luda made a futile attempt to hide his thoughts. "Little brother, you still moping after some perfect dream girl? I though we all agreed that was just a ghost."

"Have you never had the feeling," the certainty, "that there was someone out there, just one someone, and she was yours. And all the rest, every other woman was just … just a momentary diversion."

"They’re all momentary diversions."

Luda dropped his head. There was no point in allowing this discussion to continue. Besides, in the past eighteen years, ten months and tree days he had been able to persuade himself that the experience had been some kind of childish nightmare.

A news streamer drifted through the air. Wafting among the bathers and people watchers alike. In the middle of the twenty-first century almost no place was immune from advertising, and contestants for next years election were already buying time to showcase themselves to voters.

This streamer showed Eddington making a speech.

Aaron pointed. "Isn’t that you standing behind the Congressman? I can’t believe you don’t make hay over your position as Eddington’s right hand man. Not a girl on this beach you could not have if you just pointed that out."
Luda laughed. "I’m hardly likely to run around to these women and explain that if they stop ignoring the streamer and squint real hard they can see that unimportant figure in the crowd behind the candidate that looks like me. His personal assistant."

"Right hand man."

"Gopher."

"Well, right hand man is more likely to get you laid."

Luda turned his attention from his brother to the streamer. The news conference being broadcast had occurred just three days earlier, the day before he and his father, also a member of Eddington’s staff, had boarded the plane for California.

Luda’s earliest memories included Congressman Eddington. His father, Wayne Markowitz, had been a campaign volunteer for Eddington’s first run for the California state legislature. In the last eighteen years Wayne had evolved into the press secretary for one of the most powerful members of the US House of Representatives, and a man who appeared a sure shot for the Republican nomination for president in 2052.

This discussion had been another in a series about the woman the media would not stop calling a "goddess’. It had also been Luda’s first official press conference as a member of the congressman’s staff.

"And yes, you do detect a touch of nepotism," Eddington had announced with a laugh when he had introduced Luda. "This is Wayne’s son." Luda smiled at the memory of the lavish praise he had been given. This was his first job out of college and he did not try to pretend that he viewed it as a steppingstone for a political career of his own. Far from seeing him as a future threat, Eddington had accepted Luda’s ambitions, and called him a "bright and rising star."

Aaron asked, "What was that Eddington just said."

Luda could not keep a grin from spreading over his face. "You heard right, he’s gotten the President to grant the goddess citizenship."

"No, no, no, that’s just too brilliant for Eddington. That had to be … that was your idea. That was brilliant."

Eddington had said the same thing. "My first contribution, we needed something to stop the Mexican ambassador."

"We?"

"I’m a part of that now, Aaron."

"This woman really grew new limbs?"

"And U. S. scientists need time to find out how, without interference. If she went back to Mexico the way the situation between our countries is right now we’d be shut out. The congressman feels she’s the most important thing on our agenda right now."

"And you, of course, think everything that man does is right."

"He’s a good man, With important plans for the country. A unified Earth, Aaron."

"You’re blind about that man. He’s not the new messiah."

"But he is right about this. Once we know what’s going on – well, the potential applications are endless."

"I understand China has found someone, another woman, with similar … capabilities."

"Yes, and they’re being closed mouthed, as usual. Another reason we need a vision of a unified planet. Someday soon there’ll be an actual colony on the moon, not just an outpost. It will be its own country. And Mars, you’ll be establishing a beachhead there soon. It will be good to have a unified Earth before we start adding more new worlds to the mix, don’t you think?"

"Thousands of years of human history, and even the most ruthless dictators couldn’t make it work. What scares me is the thought of what it would take to hold a unified Earth together."

"Too much military school, not everything is a question of power or ruthlessness. Sometimes its just understanding your adversary, finding what it takes to build bridges and –."

"And come up with the ‘win-win’ solution. Too much business school little brother."

Luda laughed. "Fine, we both have our prejudices. But in this case I suggested granting her citizenship as a way to get the Mexican government off our back without having to use force. A reward for the immeasurable service she performed for this country in helping out investigation of the San Antonio bombing."

"She was just another victim."

"Doesn’t matter. We can’t be expected to turn over one of our citizens to another government. Mexico understood that. And we also promised them full access to every bit of information we find out about her and the woman in China."

"Crisis averted. Just like that," Aaron said. There was a look of admiration on his face. "I assume Eddington values you for this."

Luda laughed. "Been there one week and I’ve already managed a raise."
"Then I’m expecting you to treat Bev and me to dinner tonight. King crab and champagne. I’m really enjoying your visit."

Luda turned to his brother. "Right now I think I’ll just enjoy the waves." He jumped up in one fluid motion, grabbed his surfboard and raced into the ocean. In less than a second Aaron was at his side and they paddled out into deeper water to begin a run.

Chapter 6 - MARGARITA’S ESCAPE

Margarita could feel … something. She had felt upset since the words had run through her head. "Leave this planet. Leave. Or die." Nothing, not even the day of the terrorist bombing, had left her with this level of unease. Her feelings were ascending to levels that caused a physical pain.

She turned to the guard. "Let me out of here."

He grinned, but shook his head. "Sorry, goddess, you know I can’t. Relax, Canada’ll be back in a couple of days."

"You have to." She could not allow herself to think about Devon now. Whatever was coming was so powerful, she could only be thankful that he was thousands of miles away. She pounded on the glass. "Hurry. There’s not much time."

The guard frowned. "What’s up?"

"Something … I don’t know, but we need to get out of here. Inmediatamente!"

He started to walk to the door. "I’ll speak to the director."

There was no time. A stark, primitive instinct in her brain roared to life. Proteja. She could feel the molecules rearrange in the air around her, was vaguely aware that something inside her was manipulating those molecules in response to a threat far greater than the explosion from the suicide bomber a month earlier. Proteja.

The energy wave struck the outer walls of the building. She watched as a section of the wall disappeared when the wave sliced through it. Her guard was sliced in half. More precisely, his mid-section vanished, leaving only a head and two legs from mid-thigh to the ground. Then the wall on the other side of the room did its own disappearing act.

Margarita felt the force of the wave hit the protective shield her body had erected around her. Hit, fought to penetrate, and then, with almost human reluctance, parted and ran around the edges of her shield before continuing its path of destruction.

She had a second to take in the reality of what had passed her by. Then the guard’s head hit the ground and the top of the building crashed into the vacuum left after the energy wave destroyed the walls supporting it.

She needed hours to crawl free of the debris. The city that she had seen when she was first taken to the facility was gone. Through air obscured by a thick layer of dust all she could see was mile after mile of rubble. Birds still flew in the sky, although there were no standing trees for them to land on. There were no hills in Maryland, but she had the feeling that if there had been in the past they would be leveled now. Certainly there were no man-made structures still upright. Through the dust that was swirled in the air she could see dogs, cats, small animals that had been beneath the lower edge of the wave.

She turned her eyes to the south. Towards Mexico and home. Then she began her trek. To the north.

Part 3 - The Grogan
Chapter 1 LUDA’sRETURN

Luda ordered himself to admit the truth, the real reason he had rushed back to the grounds of the former refugee camp with no real plan had been to see the memorial, visit the place where her body had been burned, run his fingers over her name. God, please let them have spelled it right.

The miserable truth was that he had not given this fool’s mission enough thought. Any survivors would have moved to a new location as soon as possible after the Grogan attack. There was no point in even trying to control the mask. No one still lived in the camp, the buildings that had been torn apart in the bombing were now only inhabited by rodents, insects, and the occasional marauder whom he glimpsed flitting between the shadows. If the camp had still been occupied these people would not have known the secret. Would never have been willing or able to answer a traitor’s question. "How do you kill a goddess?"

He stared at the house she and her father had shared. He closed his eyes and saw again the virulence of the black eyes she had turned on him. And the silence. If Kandaiea had yelled or screamed he could at least have pretended that she still felt something for him. Anger was only a step away from love. Loathing was an unmeasurable distance. Quiet contempt the other end of the universe.

The house was not as badly damaged as many of the others. He could see a whole in the side where a projectile had entered, but the building was still structurally sound. Luda pushed through the door and went inside. Dust eddies jumped around his boots, he could hear the scampering and squeaks from some small animals that had made this their home in he two years since humans had abandoned the camp. His eyes followed the path of debris where the bomb had torn through the wall. That bomb, or shrapnel thrown up by its blast, had killed her.

He did not need to imagine Kandaiea’s last second of life. It had been much more painful than her birth. At least labor had been accompanied by the knowledge that his soulmate had entered the world. The force that had blown out the back of his/her skull had plunged him into the horror filled pit of loneliness.

Chapter 15 - REVENGE
She knew the power in Luda’s hands. "Don’t kill him."

"He needs to be dead."

Baker’s fight for air was weakening, the hands clawing at Luda’s arm had lost their power. Breaking his neck would be too easy. Luda wanted him to suffer a little more. He tightened his fingers slightly. Laughed at the gurgle that emerged from Ashton’s lips.

"I can’t protect you if you kill him," Kandaiea cried.

Luda lifted his head and frowned. "For what this bastard did to you – you can’t want him to live."

"I don’t care about him, Luda. That’s the past. You … you’re the present, the future, and you promised you wouldn’t leave me. If you kill Baker … they will kill you and I won’t be able to stop them. I don’t need you to get revenge for me. Stop thinking you’re a failure because you didn’t protect me."

His fingers tightened on the man’s throat. He ignored the hands clawing at his wrists, kept his eyes on Kandaiea’s. "I was supposed to. That was my purpose, and I failed. At least I can punish this excuse for a human for what he did."

"You’re just trying to punish yourself for what you think you didn’t do. Release him."

The images he had culled from Kandaiea’s head raced through his mind, a poison more virulent than any he had received from the Grogans. How could she not want to see this vile thing breath his last? "Sorry, goddess, I’m not in your army. This is one order I won’t obey."

Yet, what benefit would his action give to the woman he loved?

He wanted to spend a lifetime with this woman. Stand at her side while they defeated all their enemies. This act would render that future impossible. He would enjoy feeling this neck crack in his hands, better than conquering a mountain or taming a wave. But the aftermath that he never allowed himself to think of, that would hurt Kandaiea.

He turned to look at her. Even in the midst of being overcome by the outlaws her face had never held this degree of shear terror. He would bet that she had never displayed that weakness before either Baker or his son. Yet here it was, plain, awful, as she silently pled for him to stop. She was holding the guards back now. But once he killed Baker, she would loose the right to stop them from killing him also.

He could not allow himself to be responsible for doing this to her. For bringing about the return of her death wish. This act would not just result in his execution, it would forever make him unworthy of this woman.

He leaned close to Baker. "You’re just not worth it. In the grand scheme of things, you’re nothing. I won’t waste my life on you."

He opened his hands and let the man drop to the ground. Turned his back and began walking away.

He heard Baker cough behind him. Then the hoarse voice called, "You, that traitor tried to kill me. Stop him. Kill … kill him."

He continued walking to his goal. Stopped when he saw her expression change. The brown color of her face appeared to darken. Instead of taking his outstretched hand she brushed past him, When he turned he saw her kneeling by Baker’s shaking body.

"I can get revenge for myself." She drew her gun and pointed it at his head. "See, I am a goddess. I could kill you right now. I have the right to execute my enemies. My right. I would never have to face trial or punishment. Anytime I decide I want you dead, I can make it so. Remember that. Remember that I hate you, I’m sure you can no more forget why than I ever will. Someday when we’ve taken care of the aliens I will be back to take care of you personally. Until then crawl back to your mangy life. I have a list of things that are important." Her eyes lifted to meet Luda’s. "And revenge is nowhere on that list."

ENDING

"As if we humans haven’t done things that were just as bad."

Ashton Baker frowned. "We have never --"

Kandaiea interrupted him. "Tell that to native Americans. Victims of the Kmer Rouge. The six million killed in the holocaust. Victims of the conquistadors. We humans know how to do the dirty dead very well, and you know it."

Baker frowned, but did not respond. Luda looked at Kandaiea. Human beings were capable of so much cruelty, of deliberate evil. And of so much forgiveness.

Kandaiea continued, "Part of me wants to exterminate them, but that would only be revenge. All the Grogans are really guilty of is hubris, a sin we also share. They just want a home."

"Yeah, well the first pilgrims came here looking for religious sanctuary. Look what happened to the Indians after they settled. Not a position I want my descendants to find themselves in."

Margarita spoke up. "Then we make a better deal. We want their technology. All of it, access to everything they know. We rebuild our world with everything we have, and they have. They get life on the reservations."
"Where?"
She scowled. "They want Everest, fine. The poles, I don’t care. Just so they don’t get one inch of Canada."

Cheryl grinned. "That man really got to you. Maybe I did miss something after all. Okay, done, they’ll probably enjoy the hell out of Antarctica. We get their know how, they get the last place on Earth. Fine by me."

Margarita did not try to enlighten the other goddess. Her decision was not just about Devon. Canada was now hers. Carmen’s. Cold really wasn’t as bad as she had once thought.