Now that he was officially a killer, he realized that he no longer wanted this life. “Get it together,” he muttered, rocking back and forth.
They kept watch for another hour before Sonya walked into the room and laid her rifle on the table. “I think we’re clear. I don’t think they found the safe house. Intel has a satellite on the location anyway. They’ll keep us in the loop. We’re in too heavily populated of an area for them to make a daytime assault, anyway. We need to see to Gregory and make a decision.” She moved over to him, still staring blankly at the wall, and took his hand. “Hello, Gregory,” she said. “This is Baji. I’m Dania’s daughter, Sonya. It’s an honor to meet you. Yol, I can tell you’re in there. Can you take control and say anything?”
Gregory remained expressionless. The others gathered around. Everyone laid a hand on him and closed their eyes. It reminded Roen of one of those healing prayer circles he attended in college church. No one ever got healed, but it was a good way for him to get close to some girls. Right now though, Roen screamed inside for Gregory or Yol or God or anyone to say anything. The silence was deafening.
“If a Quasing can control us when we’re unconscious, doesn’t it mean that Yol’s not inside?” Roen said desperately, grasping at straws.
Stephen, who had a hand on Gregory’s shoulder, shook his head. “Camr says he can feel Yol in there. There’s no doubt about that.”
“Then it proves that Gregory’s still there. That’s why Yol can’t take control!”
“I’m sorry, son,” Stephen said sadly. “Gregory’s brain damage is likely permanent and he’s no longer there. Quasing control their hosts through the brain functions. If the brain functions are gone, then there is no way to establish any sort of control.” He turned to Paula. “Are you ready?”
She nodded solemnly.
I am afraid he is right. When I first brought him to the hospital, Yol was able to perform basic rudimentary movements: shake his head, nod, move his lips. The doctors performed three surgeries and I had hoped he just needed time to recover. We have to assume the worst.
Sonya handed him a small syringe. “I’m sorry. Time’s up.” Roen stared at it dumbly. “It’s up to you.” She patted him gently on the back. “It’ll take about ten minutes to take effect.”
Roen removed the cap of the syringe and looked at the sharp needle. He pursed his lips and shook his head. This was not what he signed up for. Suddenly dizzy, he felt the need to sit down again. He placed the syringe on the table and looked down at Gregory. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
I know how you feel, but I think our answer is clear. Gregory is never coming back. And if anyone is going to do it, it should be us.
Fighting back tears, Roen picked up the syringe, and with shaking hands, inserted it into Gregory’s vein. For the next few minutes, nothing happened. He had half expected convulsions or thrashing or some violent reaction to whatever poison was in there. Then just as Roen began to think that it didn’t work, Gregory’s eyes widened and he inhaled sharply. His body relaxed and slumped over. His face now had the look of someone who was sleeping and finally at peace.
Stephen and Dylan put their hands on Gregory’s forehead and murmured in unison, “Return to the Eternal Sea. Your soul will live always.”
Behind them, Paula gasped and fell to her knees. Sonya and Roen turned and ran to her side. “Yol?” Sonya asked.
Paula nodded, her eyes squeezed shut as she dry-heaved. She stayed on her knees for several moments as if trying to catch her breath. Finally, she looked up with watery eyes and whispered. “Gregory thanks you. Yol does too.”
Dylan knelt down and helped Paula to her feet. “Paula, just be Yol’s mouth and repeat his words for us. How are you doing, old friend?”
Paula looked at him, eyes groggy. “God, what happened to your face?”
Dylan grinned. “Sure sounds like Yol. Welcome back. I’m sorry about Gregory.”
She turned to Stephen and managed a weak smile. “Still a stiff with a suit after all these years?”
Stephen chuckled and patted her on the back. “That’s Yol all right.”
Paula looked up at Sonya. “So this is Dania’s little girl and Baji’s new host. I haven’t seen you since you were very young, Sonya. I’m sorry about your mother.” She turned to Roen with a touch of sadness. “How did Gregory outlive Edward?”
Roen opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had heard the story about Edward’s death many times, but now he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. His eyes filled with tears. He mumbled, “Sorry,” and turned away.
Paula gave him a sympathetic look and nodded. “I need to see what the damage is. Roen, could you be a dear and get me a cup of tea?” He nodded. “Earl Grey tea steeped for precisely three minutes, with a splash of non-fat milk afterward, and two spoonsful of sugar; brown please. Thanks, dear,” she added. Roen shook his head as he tried to memorize the concoction as he went to the kitchen.
Fifteen minutes later, the group huddled around Paula as she worked on the servers and firewalls. It was a dizzying array of systems, subsystems, and assembly code which made Roen’s head spin. She typed at a blinding pace, fingers blurring on the keyboard as she moved back and forth between programming languages and scripts as she navigated through multiple windows all at once.
“Damn, I’m bloody good,” she crowed as she leaned back and stretched, admiring her handiwork. Roen couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was a new element of histrionics in her actions that was noticeably absent from her mannerisms before. Paula turned and presented the screen with a flourish.
Dylan chuckled. “I guess we’re getting somewhere. It’s quite eerie how fast Yol’s personality infects his hosts.”
“What did you do?” Stephen asked. “Has the back door been closed?”
She nodded. Paula added, “The Genjix connection has been severed.”
“That was quick,” Dylan said. “How did you do it?”
“Root password propagated through single sign on.” She grinned. “Simple as that.”
“I thought Jeo changed all that,” Sonya said.
“He had what we call sudo root control, not root root. No one knows that root except for yours truly.”
“So,” Stephen asked. “Why was this root access not logged into our central archives?”
“Because of situations exactly like this.” Paula smirked.
“What if we had lost you to the Eternal Sea?” Sonya asked.
Paula shrugged. “You weigh your risks. If Jeo had full root access, all we could do is pull the plug on the actual boxes and pray. Every creator of our systems makes his own back door. It’s a security loophole we leave for ourselves. Since I designed most of the security systems, I made my own back door. It’s not like you were missing it. You didn’t even know it existed. And no, I won’t give it out.”
“We can talk about protocol later,” Stephen said briskly. “What’s the damage?”
“Let me check,” Paula said, sitting down and typing furiously. The screen moved at a blinding pace again as she navigated through a series of complex windows and maps.
Roen had no idea what he was seeing, let alone make sense of the complexity of the system. Several minutes passed by as she pulled up map after map of Europe and Russia. She paused every few seconds to scribble something on a piece of paper and then continued to type.
Feeling useless and sick, he left the room and went to the kitchen. There, he poured himself a scotch and waited, running the recent events over and over in his head. Looking down at the dried blood still on his hands, he got up and washed them at the sink. In all his life, Roen had never thought he’d end up where he was at right now. He was a guy who got squeamish watching horror movies. How did his life get this way?