Dead and Alive
his marrow.”
“You’ve really thought this through,” Carson said.
“We really have.”
“Maybe we can work together.”
Erika said, “The next time he comes to the new tank farm—”
“That’ll probably be before dawn. We think he’ll retreat to the farm from New Orleans when the Hands of Mercy burns down.”
“Mercy is going to burn down?” Erika asked with childlike wonder and a tremor of delight.
“It’s going to burn down in …” Carson glanced at Michael, who checked his watch, and she repeated what he told her: “… in eight minutes.”
“Yes,” the fourth Mrs. Helios said, “he’ll surely flee to the farm.”
“My partner and I are already on our way.”
“Meet with us at Crosswoods, at the dump, before you go to the farm,” Erika said.
“I’ll have to talk to our other partner about that. I’ll get back to you. What’s your number there?”
As Erika recited her number, Carson repeated it to Michael, and he wrote it down.
Carson terminated the call, pocketed the phone, and said, “She sounds really nice for a monster.”
CHAPTER 47
ALTHOUGH HE DESPISED HUMANITY , Victor was biologically human. Although intellectually enlightened beyond the comprehension of others in the Old Race, he remained more physically like them than not. To Chameleon, Victor qualified as an approved target.
If he had not created Chameleon himself, Victor wouldn’t have known the meaning of the rippling floor. He would have thought he had imagined it or was having a transient ischemic attack.
Even now, knowing where to look, he could not easily discern Chameleon against the surface across which it moved.
On the desktop computer and on the big screen across the room, stirring, heroic visions of the New Race future continued to appear, but now Victor’s voice rose, reciting the Creed:
“The universe is a sea ofchaos in which random chance collides with happenstance and spins shatters of meaningless coincidence like shrapnel through our lives….”
Chameleon was wary in its approach, although it did not need to be so prudent and had not been programmed for caution, as it was virtually invisible and capable of speed. Most likely, it was being careful because this was its first hunting expedition. Once it had killed, it would become bolder.
“The purpose of the New Race is to impose order on the face of chaos, to harness the awesome destructive power of the universe and make it serve your needs, to bring meaning to a creation that has been meaningless since time immemorial….”
Victor casually backed deeper into the embrace of his U-shaped workstation.
Chameleon advanced as much as Victor retreated, and then another five feet, until it was only fifteen feet away.
It was a half-smart killing machine because its ability to blend with its environment gave it a great advantage that didn’t require it also to be truly smart. Victor’s intention was to manufacture tens of thousands of Chameleons, to release them on the day the revolution began, as backup for the brigades of New Race warriors as they began killing the Old.
“And the meaning that you will impose upon the universe is the meaning of your maker, the exaltation of my immortal name and face, the fulfillment of my vision and my every desire….”
The granite top of the workstation bumped against the back of Victor’s thighs, halting him.
Chameleon scuttled to within twelve feet and paused again. When it was still, Victor ceased to be able to see it even though he knew precisely where it stood. The ripple effect occurred only when the vicious creature remained in motion.
“Your satisfaction in the task, your every moment of pleasure, your relief from otherwise perpetual anxiety, will be achieved solely by the continuous perfect implementation of my will….”
Keeping his eyes on the spot where he’d last seen the clever mimic, Victor eased sideways, to a bank of three drawers on his left. He believed that what he needed was in the middle of the three.
Chameleon neither reproduced nor ate. For the duration of its existence, it drew upon its own substance for energy. When its weight declined from twenty-four pounds to eighteen, Chameleon weakened and died, though of course it had no awareness of its fate.
Computer models suggested that each Chameleon, released in an urban environment, would be able to kill between a thousand and fifteen hundred targets before expiring.
“Through you, Earth and everything upon it
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