Damnit, he thought, I love the kid.
King saw the laptop was fully booted and some new software was loading up. Hoping to keep Ridley’s attention off the laptop, King asked, “What happened to you, Ridley?” King asked. “After you jumped out of the helicopter.”
The hooded Ridley turned toward King.
“I lost an arm,” Ridley replied. “Nearly my head.”
“And I was born.”
The second voice came from the cloaked Ridley, but sounded different. Had Ridley’s injuries wrecked his voice? Were his regenerative abilities not as refined as Alexander’s?
“The injection I gave myself just minutes before our brief meeting had not been perfected.” He chuckled. “When I jumped from the helicopter I had no idea if I would survive or not. But I did. I had received the regenerative gene of the Hydra, but there was one other gene that had yet to be culled. I discovered its effects when I looked in the rearview mirror of the car that carried me to freedom.”
King noticed that Alexander had stopped struggling and started listening.
“It was this side effect that spurred my continued research into the mother tongue. For years, long before we met, I searched the past for clues to long-forgotten powers—which, as you know, led me to the ancient remains of the Hydra. Ancient maps, runes, texts, hieroglyphs—I collected and studied the world’s history and came to a stunning conclusion: the Tower of Babel story is real. I don’t yet fully understand the mechanics of how mankind’s language fractured, only that it did. In the past two years I have pieced together several key phrases of the lost language that allow me to alter and reshape the physical world as well as the thoughts and emotions of the people in it. Not to mention I now have the key to ridding myself of this unfortunate disfigurement.”
“Be kind,” said the higher pitched, wet voice.
“Apologies, Adam. You will always be my first son.”
Adam. The name struck a chord with King. Ridley had been naming his golem clones after the bloodline from Adam to King David. Was this Adam the first of his lifelike golems?
“I hoped to separate myself from him—from Adam. Thankfully,” Ridley said, holding up a stone tablet, “the final piece of the puzzle arrived from Stonehenge.”
King could see a series of Egyptian-like runes covering one side of the bluestone tablet. He could probably spend his whole life on the task and never decipher what it said. Ridley, on the other hand, had apparently done so already. “One of Merlin’s greatest hits?”
Ridley grinned. “I’m afraid Merlin can’t take credit for the words recorded here. He simply recorded the words taught to him in Egypt. And it’s just one of the many ancient efforts to preserve the ancient language in stone—the only medium that can reliably last the test of time.”
“El Mirador,” King said, realizing that Ridley had been collecting bits and pieces of the spoken and written language.
“One of many sites that contained written samples of the mother tongue,” Ridley said. “Your primitive friends in Vietnam, though unable to read the words carved on the walls, added to my knowledge as well. And with the words gleaned from Merlin’s fragment, Adam and I can rejoin the world above as whole individuals.” Ridley affectionately rubbed a hand over the tablet before placing it down on the table behind him. “And you are just in time to witness our separation.” The cloaked Ridley stepped forward, raising his arms out to the side. “Show yourself, Adam.”
King gaped as a third arm reached up over Ridley’s head and took hold of the hood. The fingers, thin and bent, wrapped around the fabric and then pulled back quickly.
Ridley stood before them, bare-chested and pale, his bald head shining under the light of a halo of mini-suns. The third arm reached up and over his torso, gripping his chest tightly. A head followed it, rising up behind his shoulder. The face was Ridley’s, though slightly disfigured.
“Thank you, King,” Adam said. “Without you I would have never been born.”
SEVENTY-NINE
QUEEN WAITED BY the entrance to a small room, keeping watch while Bishop and Knight checked out what was inside. She was bothered by the lack of security. In the past, Ridley had surrounded himself with the high-tech security force known as Gen-Y. They had ultimately failed him, so it was understandable that they were no longer in his employ, but if he had reason to be paranoid about security before, he had twice as many reasons now.
Yet the hallways were empty.
Which meant Ridley had no need for security, had lost his marbles, or had plenty of security that they had yet to discover; she hoped it was the second, but suspected it was a combination of the first and last. Maybe all three.
Knight and Bishop exited the room. “Looks like it used to be an armory. Lots of old blades buried beneath a layer of fibrous dust. Probably ancient wood.”
“Doesn’t look like anyone’s been in there recently,” Bishop said.
“Probably not since this place was built,” Knight added.
Queen moved on in silence, her thoughts on the mission, but also with Rook. He should be here now, she thought. But he was either dead and not returning, or alive and in trouble. Of course, she thought, he could be alive and choosing to stay away. But if that were true … She forced the thought from her mind and turned her full attention to the entryway ahead. She could hear a scratching sound. She detected a foul combination of odors next.
She paused and breathed through her nose.
Piss and shit.
With her XM25 pressed firmly against her shoulder, Queen entered the chamber and froze. Large cages filled the room, lining every wall and stacked three high. She quickly noted the stenciled labels on the front of each cage, written in Russian. And beneath the labels, a Manifold Genetics logo, also in Russian. “Look,” she said, pointing to one of the logos. “These cages were either here before we took Manifold down—”
“Or the company is still active,” Knight finished.
“In Russia,” Queen said. They had witnessed the destruction of Manifold Gamma and Beta. And they had captured the Manifold lab in New Hampshire known as Alpha. But with plenty more letters in the Greek alphabet remaining, who’s to say there weren’t as many Manifold facilities left?
Before Queen attempted to read the labels, she noticed the cages were not empty. The cages held a variety of twisted forms. Many on the lower level were indiscernible as any living creature on Earth, with limbs where heads should be, hoofed feet mixed with human hands and scaled faces. Many appeared dead, but their bodies rose and fell with each breath, despite not having any visible mouth or nose.
Those in the middle cages were hale, but fearful, shifting to the back of the cage. These were oversized lizards and predatory birds. They were covered in feces from the animals on the cages above—dirty and pitiful. Despite their size, they seemed to be as docile and fearful of humans as their smaller, wild, counterparts.
Perhaps these were wild animals before they were experimented on, Queen thought. Then she saw the top row.
Sitting still and watching her were several mammoth, stubby-tailed gray cats. Larger than Siberean tigers, the giant cats had black-tipped ears with long tufts of fur pointing up from them. Their yellow feline eyes seemed to never blink. Their sandy gray coats were covered in oblong spots, but the fur beneath their chins and bellies was white, though stained with blood.