Chapter 20 #2
Alina and Rhyx returned with a tray of steaming cups and a plate of protein biscuits.
The domestic normalcy of the gesture—offering refreshments to guests—struck her as almost absurd given the circumstances.
Two ancient Martian males, one an ice dragon with massive wings and the other a golden warrior with scales that caught the light like armor, sitting at a table drinking tea.
“So,” Alina said, settling into a chair across from Jaz. Rhyx positioned himself beside her, his body angled to keep both the door and Adjar in his peripheral vision. “R-339 said you found him during a polar storm?”
“He found me, technically.” She wrapped her hands around the warm cup. “Or rather, he exploded out of the ice and destroyed my mining rig. I found him unconscious in the debris.”
“You probably should have left me there,” he said quietly. “It would have been safer for you.”
“Probably.” She shrugged. “I’ve never been good at doing the safe thing.”
Alina nodded understandingly. “Rhyx was in a cavern in the mountains. I went looking for an unusual biochemical signal and I found him, along with an ecosystem that couldn’t possibly exist.” She shook her head.
“I’m not sure what would have happened if I hadn’t found him.
Perhaps the planet would have given birth to him as well. ”
“The emergence chambers were designed to activate in response to specific conditions.” Adjar leaned forward, his attention sharpening. “Temperature changes. Atmospheric shifts. Geological patterns that indicated the possibility of sustainable survival.”
“You remember that?” Rhyx asked suspiciously.
“Only fragments. I would have been briefed on the preservation systems before entering stasis, but I’ve only regained a few of those memories.”
“I have no such memories.” Rhyx’s hands clenched on the table surface. “I remember training, preparing for battles that never came. And then… darkness. Waking up to a world I don’t recognize with a body that feels wrong.”
“Wrong how?”
“This was not my original form.” Rhyx’s voice cracked slightly. “Much of it is human.”
Alina looked over at Adjar. “You appear to be closer to your original form. Is that correct?”
“I am not the same as I was,” he admitted. “But my memories are not clear enough to be sure of the differences. My mate found a significant amount of human DNA in my system.”
“As well as what appear to be the same type of nanites that were involved in the cyborg transformations,” she added. “R-339 mentioned a connection?”
“Yes. When Rhyx first emerged, I ran every scan I could on him. The results were… confusing. He’s clearly not human, but just as you found, there is human DNA in his cellular structure. And his bloodstream also contains the same type of nanites.”
“That’s not possible,” she said automatically. “Cyborg technology was developed on Earth, and it’s not even a hundred years old.”
“That’s what I thought. But the matches were too precise to be coincidental.
” Alina pulled out a small tablet, swiping through data files.
“Look at this—these are protein folding patterns from Rhyx’s blood samples.
And these are from a standard cyborg neural interface. The underlying structure is identical.”
She studied the comparisons, her geologist’s brain trying to make sense of biochemical data she wasn’t trained to interpret. But even to her untrained eye, the similarities were striking.
“You’re suggesting that cyborg technology is based on ancient Martian genetics?”
“No. In fact I think it’s the opposite. I think that the arrival of cyborg technology was one of the triggers to start the awakening.
” Alina set the tablet down. “I told you that I found Rhyx in a cavern with a thriving ecosystem. I didn’t tell you that several months prior to that, another ranger found a similar cavern.
He was wounded at the time and his blood was… absorbed by the plants in the cavern.”
“You think that one cyborg’s blood set all this in motion?” she asked incredulously.
“Not entirely. There were already other developments such as hidden ecosystems and the appearance of lower life forms. But I think the cyborg blood may have been the final trigger.”
“Does that seem possible?” she asked Adjar.
He hesitated for a long moment, then finally nodded.
“I know there are specific triggers. It’s possible this was one of them, although I suspect it was based on the capability rather than the specific method.”
“Perhaps that’s why GenCon is searching for the two of you,” Alina said thoughtfully. “If they understand the connection between ancient Martian DNA and cyborg technology…"
"They'd want to control the source," Rhyx finished. "So they want to capture specimens and experiment on them. They will take what they need and destroy anything that might threaten their monopoly."
“We need to know what GenCon actually knows,” she said. “Are they reacting to the emergences as they happen, or did they predict them somehow? Did they cause them?”
“Cause them?” Alina looked startled. “How could they cause something like this?”
“The seismic anomalies. The localized temperature shifts.” Her mind was racing now, pulling together fragments of information. “What if they found a way to trigger an emergence? Perhaps at a specific site where they could control the recovery.”
“They couldn’t have triggered mine,” Adjar said. “The polar region is too remote. You said there were no GenCon facilities anywhere near your claim.”
“But the research station where Alina worked was very close to where I emerged,” Rhyx said slowly. “I don’t believe they triggered it, but I think they knew enough to search for it.”
“They had just started running deep-penetration scans.” Alina’s face had gone pale. “I thought it was because I had done something to arouse their suspicion.”
“But perhaps they were already looking,” Adjar said.
“And trying to use scans to trigger an awakening.” She felt sick. “Like poking sticks into a hibernating animal’s den to flush it out.”
“One animal, perhaps.” Rhyx’s voice was dark. “Easy to capture. Easy to control. But what happens when they poke too many dens? When they wake something they can’t handle?”
“That may be exactly what’s happening.” Alina pulled up more data on her tablet.
“These are seismic readings from the past six months. See this pattern? These clusters? There are at least a dozen sites showing the same kind of anomalies that preceded Rhyx’s emergence.
If GenCon is triggering them deliberately… ”
“Then others are waiting to emerge,” Adjar finished. “And GenCon is trying to catch them before they can connect.”
“Before they can become a threat.” She met his eyes. “That’s why R-339 brought us together. If we can find the others first…”
“We can warn them. Help them.” Adjar’s expression turned grim and determined “The Keepers were meant to guide our people through the transition. To help them understand the new world they would wake to. That was always the plan.”
“Your plan,” Rhyx said. “The polar guardians’ plan. The Warriors were never part of it.”
“Are you sure? You’re here.” Adjar raised an eyebrow at the other male. “And you survived. You found a mate and a place in this world. If a Warrior can adapt, then others can too. We just have to reach them before GenCon does.”
The two males held each other’s gaze for a long moment, and something passed between them, a recognition that transcended their initial hostility.
“How?” Rhyx asked finally. “GenCon has resources we can’t match. Technology, personnel, the ability to monitor half the planet’s surface. How do we compete with that?”
“We don’t compete. We adapt.” She leaned forward, her practical mind already working through logistics. “We just need to stay one step ahead. Find the emergence sites before they do. Get there faster.”
Alina nodded. “That might be possible, especially if I can find a pattern in the data we’ve been tracking. But even if we can find them first, how are we going to hide them?”
“Actually…” Adjar’s voice was strange. “That may not be as much of a problem as you think.”
She turned to look at him—and felt her breath catch in her throat.
His wings were gone.
Not folded, not tucked away, but gone. His back was smooth, except for two thick ridges on either side of his spine.
“How—” she started.
“Rhyx showed me.” Adjar’s voice held a note of wonder. “Not deliberately, but… I could feel how he holds his form. The way he keeps the human shape dominant. I didn’t realize it was possible, but when I tried…”
“It hurts,” Rhyx said quietly. “The first few times especially. It was easier for me before they emerged. Once they did, it was harder to conceal them. And you can’t hold it forever—the true form wants to surface. But for short periods, for moving among humans…”
She reached out to touch Adjar’s back, her fingers finding only smooth ridges where wings should have been. The sensation was disorienting, almost disturbing. She had grown accustomed to the weight of them, the way his wings shifted when he moved, and the way they curved around her when they slept.
“Does it hurt you?” she asked.
“It is… uncomfortable. Like holding your breath underwater.” Adjar released the form, and his wings materialized smoothly, unfolding from his back as if they had never been gone. “But I can do it. Which means I can move through human settlements without immediately being identified as a threat.”
“From a distance.” Alina was staring at him with undisguised fascination. “But sometimes that’s enough.”
“It’s better than nothing.” Her mind was already racing with possibilities. “We can work with limitations. We can plan around them.”