Hostile Genus: An Epic Military Sci-Fi Series (Invasive Species Book 2) by Ben Stevens (historical books to read TXT) 📕

Out in the desert darkness, they could hear the hunting and mating sounds of hundreds of different animals, birds, and insects. A pack of coyotes yipped somewhere off in the direction of the hills they had seen, off in the direction of the golden pillar.

Jon rummaged through the pile of stuff they had gathered and presented a freeze-dried meal to Maya, sheathed in a thick plastic pouch.

“Here, eat.”

She looked up from her ministrations, and she smiled at Jon with her eyes, their corners softening at the gesture of kindness. She folded the wet cloth into a small rectangle, placed it on Ratt’s forehead, and then took the food offered to her.

“You should eat too, and try to sleep. I know that the serum makes you neither hungry nor tired, but your body is still human, and going without will harm you. It will break you down and…”—she tilted her head slightly sideways and drew closer to him— “and I couldn’t bear to watch that happen to you.”

“Okay, Maya. I will try. You too, Carbine.” Jon dug out two more pouches of food and tossed one to his friend.

“Oh man! Ham omelet. I was hoping for stroganoff,” Carbine bemoaned, but eagerly tore into his meal-pouch regardless. The three of them ate in silence, Jon forcing himself to chew and swallow. When they had finished their meal, Jon looked over to Maya and spoke softly.

“I don’t think I can sleep, no matter how hard I try. I haven’t been able to sleep a wink ever since, you know.” Jon held up his hands and waved them slowly side to side.

Maya seemed to think about this for a moment, pursing her lips and twiddling her thumbs. Then a smile appeared on her face as sudden and bright as unexpected lightning in the sky.

“I believe I can help with that!” she exclaimed. She stood up and gestured at the boys. “Okay. Get yourselves comfy. I’m going to sing you to sleep!”

Jon felt a little embarrassed and looked over at Carbine, who had a look on his face that read, Seriously?

“Come on, silly,” she said to Carbine. “Not that long ago, you would have been pretty excited to have a private show with Lily Sapphire.” She winked knowingly at him, and he gulped, eyes wide. Jon and Maya both laughed out loud, melting the awkward ice. They puttered around for a minute, putting away odd bits, reorganizing things, and unrolling their sleeping bags.

Once they were all settled down, they lay together in the fading glow of the slowly dying fire. Having become accustomed to it, Jon could no longer smell the wood smoke or the sage-scented breeze that blew gently over his face and through the lean-to.

Jon and Carbine closed their eyes and lay still, feeling the tension, stress, and fatigue leave their bodies with every deep exhalation. After a spell, Maya began to cast hers. It hadn’t occurred to Jon before that she wove her magic web with song, but he realized now that every time she shaped Strange, she sang. It made sense to him. There is great power in music. It can reach down into deep places inside us that others can seldom find, let alone influence. It can resonate not only with our hearts but with the vibrations of the very universe. It could be said that all vibration is music—the sounds of nature, a babbling brook, the wind, the planet spinning and sailing through its clockwork tour of the heavens. Jon recalled the insights of Maya’s first revelation and remembered that throughout the history of man’s rule over the world, many governments and religions had attempted to ban music, so it would seem that even wicked men understood the transformative potential and power that music contained.

Her voice sang its song into the dark, working its magic. She sang in a language alien to Jon. He wondered briefly whether the song would sound as enchanting if he could understand what she was saying. Being unable to, he lay, spellbound by the melody and sound. He felt the familiar, though recently absent, feeling of dullness behind his eyes, eyes whose lids were growing heavy. Before she had finished her song, Jon fell asleep with the world’s most serene smile on his face.

The sleeping Strange worked well; almost too well. Jon was awakened by Maya vigorously shaking his shoulder and strenuously whispering, “Jon! Jon!” He opened his eyes with a start. He was confused for half a second—Where am I? Whu—But then his soldier instincts kicked in. He looked at Maya, propping himself up on one elbow, her dark outline hovering over him like a guardian angel.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“I heard something out there.” He couldn’t make out her features in the dark but heard the genuine concern in her voice. He sat up and she moved back a little. Clouds had moved in as he slept, obscuring what moonlight there had been, turning the night as dark and silent as the grave. He looked over his sleeping companions. Ratt hadn’t moved, and Carbine was out like a light too. Lucy had still not returned from her self-imposed solitary confinement.

“Suppose it’s just Lucy?” Jon mused out loud.

“No way,” Maya replied instantly. “If it were Lucy, I wouldn’t have heard her.”

“You’ve got a point there,” Jon admitted. He reached out and squeezed Maya’s hand. “Hang tight; I’ll take a look around.”

Just as Jon peeled back his sleeping bag, he heard it: a low, guttural growling coming from somewhere out in the black, off to his right.

Some kind of animal, most likely… hopefully.

He ceased moving to hear better and felt Maya’s hand tighten its grip. The growling stopped, but in its place came the sound of rustling, or scurrying. Jon fumbled in the dark for his hammer, which he had laid next to him before falling asleep. Finding it, he closed his fingers around the haft and stood up,