Chapter 12: Incubation
"Are you ready for this?" asked Watchdog.
Crow exhaled deeply.
"As ready as I'll ever be," he answered.
"Alright, then," said Watchdog, peering around the corner. "Let's go."
They crept out from behind the brick wall against which they were pressed and advanced into open territory, walking the streets of Watertown under the cover of midnight. Their pace was leisurely, confident, but it was clear in their steps that they were not wandering about without purpose. Their faces were relaxed, stolid, not betraying anything that might have been on their minds. And their eyes scoured every nook, every hole, every neighbouring path that branched from their own, anticipating any sights or sounds that could portend to a possible threat, however minimal, as they headed to the Rickman Equipment and Supplies store.
Three weeks had passed since the Liberation Front's inaugural assembly at Gary's apartment. The six of them had been working tirelessly to perfect their plan of action ever since. Dan and Gary had spent their time sharing their experiences in dealing with the Shapeshifters, and discussed their observed behavioural quirks thus far almost ad nauseam. Since the Hybrids were primarily machines, they first thought that perhaps they should add a little mechanical edge to their manner of speaking and moving, but they discarded the notion when they realized the reason they blended in so well was because they acted exactly like humans; so instead, they decided that they would act like themselves, lessening the workload considerably. In conjunction with the crafting of their act, they also reviewed all the Intel Dan and Spock had amassed, trying to remember as many details as they could so that they could prove their Hybrid origins in the event they were pressed.
On that night, Crow and the Watchdog were dressed casually, Gary in his trademark bean hat and hood, and Dan in his brown leather coat and mundane attire. As part of their act – they were Shapeshifters who had just taken on the identity of a couple of unfortunate mopes – they carried no special equipment of any kind, and were unarmed as well. Enigma – whose given name, as it turned out, was Isaac Keane – had fulfilled his promise of supplying weapons for the team; apparently, a couple of people owed him favours. In conversing with him, Dan came to realize that Keane was the real deal: he had been a member of an anti-corporatist group in his early twenties, and had participated in many acts of sabotage and vandalism against corrupt mega-corporations, even leading a few raids himself now and again. It was an impressive resume, to say the least.
An uneasy feeling formed in the pit of Dan's stomach when Keane had unveiled to him the boxes of ammunition and the handguns stockpiled in the trunk of his car. He knew that it was a necessary precaution, for the Shapeshifters would certainly be carrying weapons of their own, but he dreaded the possibility – or perhaps, inevitability – of armed conflict nonetheless, knowing from experience how south a firefight could go.
Walking down the street, however, Dan thought being in the middle of a firefight was more desirable a situation than his current one. Being unarmed, he would have to rely solely on his wits to squeeze his way out of trouble should it decide to rear its head at them. He and Gary had formulated a few general ideas on how to react to certain situations, but they weren't very concrete; improvisation would be their only ally tonight.
Roaming the sidewalk, Dan could picture the rest of the team as they scurried in the darkness several blocks away. In the past three weeks, Polaris – otherwise known as Rebecca Stone – had built around two dozen nitroglycerin-based satchel charges, which were to be arranged in groups of four per timed detonator, thereby amounting to six bombs total. As Crow and the Watchdog made their way to the compound, the rest of the team would be busy transporting the explosives up the riverside path to the area behind the compound's lot where the recon mission had taken place.
There was no way of knowing how smoothly the transportation process was going, though, seeing as Gary and Dan were not equipped with communication devices of any kind. Likewise, they would not be able to contact them either; the burden of the mission was going to rest squarely on both their shoulders until one of the two would-be shifters sneaked out to the lot's perimeter and secured a way into the establishment for Spock, Keane, Becca, and George "Druid" Nelson, who would all be waiting at the riverside passage with explosives in tow. The weight of this burden intensified with Dan's every step, and even more so when the compound manifested itself in the horizon.
"We're getting close now," announced Watchdog, looking ahead. "Remember, stay cool, and don't hesitate, even for a second."
The flight-or-fight response kicked in all of a sudden; Dan had the sudden urge to run, to just flee in the opposite direction as fast as he could and not look back. His heart raced as he tried to master his instincts, which were trying to dissuade him from willfully entering a place he knew was dangerous. And yet, the closer he got to the front gates, the clearer the sentry's face became, and he remembered why he volunteered for this task in the first place. Clenching his jaw, he ditched the flight in favour of the fight, all the fire burning within at the thought of what the First Wave intended to do pushing him forward. As the pair prepared to face the guard, he took a deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
The sentry looked out into the distance. Two men were crossing the street in his direction. One had shaggy hair topped with a bean hat and wearing a black hoodie, and the other sported a short, slightly ruffled haircut, donning jeans and a brown leather jacket, looking around as though to make sure they weren't being followed. They came to meet him at the gate, and the bean hat man addressed him.
"Hey there," hailed Gary.
The guard was an intimidating fellow, staring them down with intense eyes and dark features.
"Listen, man," continued Gary. "I know it's kinda late to be asking this, but we were wondering if you guys sell any John Deere mowers here."
"Any model in particular?" asked the Shapeshifter with a raised eyebrow.
"Yeah," said Dan. "A Waterloo Boy. 6055R."
The guard said nothing; he seemed rather angry, though it might have just been his neutral expression. Dan's heart pounded madly in his chest, and he had to focus to control his breathing. A terrible thought crossed his mind. Could it be that they already been discovered? Perhaps Shapeshifters had thermal lenses built into their eyes that could easily detect humans through their specific body temperature, or maybe they could communicate with each other through radio waves, or –
"Well, looks like you're in luck," said the guard seconds later, features softening. "It just so happens that we have a few left in stock."
He then unlocked the gate and drew it open. Dan and Gary exchanged a short glance.
"Just head out behind this building over here and go inside through the back door. The guys will hook you up once you're in there."
"Thanks a bunch," said the Watchdog, replying in the same rehearsed tone the guard was using.
The pair then proceeded through the gate, which was then locked shut once again.
Dan and Gary permitted themselves a smile. They could hardly believe that it worked. The ruse was easier to maintain than either of them had expected. The adrenaline rush Dan experienced was invigorating, and with renewed confidence, they made their way out back and opened the door found on the rear face of the facility, which was thankfully unlocked.
They were now in the store's loading dock area. Before them were a number of small utility vehicles and landscaping equipment, lined up into rows and columns on the concrete floor. They made their way up the nearest such path, passing ride-on lawnmowers, leaf blowers, weed whackers, chainsaws, and a plethora of other useful machinery as they did, before at last emerging into the bulk of the store's space. With caution, they passed through the series of aisles before ending up in the spacious area at front end of the building.
The five men gathered around the checkout counter paused their conversation and looked to the new arrivals. Among them, Dan recognized the Lead Shapeshifter from the Recon mission several weeks ago, who looked the same as he previously did. Dan was wondering how long they could maintain their identities when the leader stepped forward, presumably to greet them.
"Who the hell are you guys?" he asked instead.
The Liberation Front agents froze; they were not expecting such hostility. Dan was at a loss as to how he should proceed, and his mind went blank save for repeated curses at the fact that his mind was going blank.
"Well, according to this," started the Watchdog, pulling out his wallet and reading the driver's licence, "I'm Gary Saunders."
"And for now, I guess I'm Daniel Thompson," added Dan, playing along.
Dan looked over to Gary. It was a brilliant play on his part; if they had remained hesitant for but a few more seconds, the head shifter would probably have gotten suspicious, and they would have faced certain doom. As for the leader, he chuckled a little; Dan mused that introductions must be staples of Shapeshifter comedy or something. But the leader's smile then faded, and his stern, scrutinizing expression returned.
"I see," he said, seeming to realize these were Hybrids. "But what are you two doing here? We weren't expecting anyone."
The pseudo-shifters were stumped once again.
Think, Daniel, think.
"Um... The Secretary sent us here," said Dan.
"Why wasn't I informed of this?" asked the leader.
"Beats me," shrugged Dan. "We're just following orders."
"What orders would that be?"
"We were just told to come here and report for duty, nothing more. I assumed it's because someone put in a request for additional hands, but I guess that isn't the case."
The leader rested his face in the palm of his hand, sighing in irritation.
"I can't believe this," he said. "Well, I suppose there's nothing much we can do about it for now. I'll have to head down to the nearest Relay Station and sort this out with the higher-ups. Since you guys are stuck here for now, though, I might as well put you two to good use in the meantime. Brian!"
One of the four Hybrids gathered around the checkout counter came to the head shifter's side. He was of a tall, athletic build, a young man barely out of his teenage years.
"Show them to the Incubation Tanks and have them assist you in replacing the filters," ordered the leader.
"Understood," said Brian.
He hollered one of the other Shapeshifters at the counter, and he opened the cash register, removed a spare key, and tossed it to Brian, who caught it with a single hand.
"Okay, follow me," he then asked.
Brian led the way back into the supply aisles, and the two pseudo-shifters followed him promptly. They manoeuvred their way back to the storage area and entered a closet-like room, filled with various cleaning tools and products. And in what Dan thought as typical Shapeshifter fashion, Brian heaved a shelf aside, revealing the outline of a door that blended in with surrounding walls. Using his key, Brian unlocked it, and it gave way to a flight of stairs. The Shapeshifter bade Dan and Gary to proceed, and the pair entered. Brian turned to lock the door once more. Dan took notice of this; unless they could get a hold of the key, a possible route of escape was now crossed out. Brian returned to the front of the pack to guide them, and when he wasn't looking, Dan made a few small gestures to inform his partner of the development.
By stairwell's end, they were a few floors beneath Rickman's, and just to their left was a red door. Upon bridging the distance, Dan could clearly see the strange Omega-Headphone symbol etched on its face, a symbol that he guessed this time around was meant to represent the First Wave.
"Have you guys ever been to a Titan Processing Plant before?" asked Brian, unlocking the door.
"Uh, no, we haven't," said the Watchdog. "We just matured, like, a half hour ago."
"Oh," replied Brian. "Well, in that case, your disks are going to fry when you see the tanks. It's really something else."
Dan and Gary said nothing. Though their faces remained unmoving, their eyes were sparking with dread and anticipation when they met. They longed the next few winding corridors, descending down stairs every now and again – those Shapeshifters sure loved their subterranean lairs, thought Dan – and soon enough, they entered the Titan Processing Plant.
"Holy crap," said Dan, unwittingly speaking aloud what he had intended to say in his mind.
The room he found himself in was enormous, slightly bigger than a high school gymnasium, which appeared even bigger when he reminded himself that he was underground. Concrete rubble parsed the floors in unequal distribution, and the place was lit by rows of HID lamps set high above. Large cylindrical glass tubes lined the walls on either side of the group, and by Dan's estimates were almost as thick as redwoods and as tall as three-storey houses. There were six such tubes on either wall, all filled with a thick, hazy green liquid. Multitudes of wires extended from their thick tops and bases, which were routed into supercomputer-like monoliths, in turn plugged into sophisticated computer interfaces standing some meters away from the base of the tanks. Their wide screens were replete with streams of data and ever-morphing diagrams that neither Dan nor Gary could decipher.
"Beautiful, aren't they?" said Brian. "They're almost eleven months old, now. Just a few more, and they'll be ready to go.
"They're pretty big," noted Gary. "How exactly do you guys plan on transporting them out of here?"
"Have no fear," said Brian. "We've been growing Titans here for four years, so we've developed a pretty efficient system. When they're ready, we'll tip them over and pass them through tunnels we made that connect to decommissioned subway tunnels not too far from here. Our boys will be able to take them from there and bring them to the surface at an abandoned train station. Then they'll shipped off to the maturation and acclimatization facility in Newark."
Gary nodded, appearing interested in the conversation. Dan looked off into the distance; there was indeed a cavernous opening in the wall, leading into tenebrous depths. He then turned to Brian and spoke.
"Wouldn't it be easier to just do everything in one place?" he asked.
For a brief instant, Brian looked at Dan as though he had said something very out of the norm for a Shapeshifter. Dan hard tried not to wince from the apparent gaffe in front of Brian. Gary seemed similarly distressed, but kept silent. The look of puzzlement was gone as fast as it appeared, however, and Brian assumed his regular demeanour.
"You know how it is," said Brian, shrugging. "Compartmentalization. It's the Hybrid way of life. Sure, it makes things terribly complicated sometimes – I'm not looking forward to having to haul these things to the tunnels– but it does reduce the risk of the First Wave operation being uncovered by a significant amount, so there isn't much we can do about it."
The group stopped in front of one of the tanks. Dan craned his neck up to try and grasp the tube's scale, but the sudden sense of vertigo he caught made him regret the action. Thin strands of bubbles rose in constant progression in the green fluid; but Dan couldn't see anything that may have fit the definition of a Titan. He outstretched his arm to place his hand on the warm, perspiring glass surface of the tank.
Seconds later, a gargantuan upside-down hand surged from the deep to greet him.
Dan jolted back, nearly tripping on one of the many cables strewn on the floor. The hand pressing against the glass was almost bigger than Dan's own size; it could have easily picked him up and held him in the air. Soon after, the hand retreated from view, disappearing entirely. As Dan followed its movements, he thought he could discern the outlines of a vaguely humanoid silhouette in the green haze, monstrous in proportions, forced into an upside-down foetal position as a result of the tank's narrowing confines.
A Titan.
"Heh, I think it likes you," said Brian in jest. "Alright guys, let's switch these filters and get it over with already."
Brian instructed them on how to properly remove a tank's old filter – in which foul organic residue was encrusted – and replace it with a newer one. The filters, large metallic frames with fine meshes in the centers, were very heavy; and Brian, being a Shapeshifter, was very strong. It was fortunate that Dan and Gary were holding the filters on the other end, for they would have revealed their lesser human strengths if they had lifted the grates individually.
Dan's mind remained on red alert throughout the menial labour. They had successfully infiltrated the compound and found the place where they kept the Titans. The next step of their plan entailed securing the room itself. There would be only one way to do this, they knew, and both Liberation Front agents kept their eyes peeled for a window of opportunity.
They found it at the fourth Titan incubation tank.
As Brian knelt to unhinge the plate that gave access to the filter, Dan spotted a pipe wrench lying among some other tools scattered beside the computer terminal. He alerted Gary with a glance, and he nodded, understanding his partner's intentions. The Watchdog picked it up slowly, and then crept gently towards an unsuspecting Brian. Dan's mind was on fire, and his body tensed. Gary advanced step by step, halted when he got close enough, and shifted his weight to strike.
Brian turned around.
"Hey, what do you know," he said in pleasant surprise. "That's exactly what I needed! Thanks, man."
Gary, who had frozen in his tracks the moment Brian looked at him, had no choice but to surrender the wrench to him. When Brian returned to his work, Dan gave Gary a quick look, who returned the glance with a helpless shrug. Their window of opportunity had closed so fast that it nearly took their fingers with it.
Brian managed to loosen the filter with the wrench's aid and heaved it out.
"There we go!" he exclaimed in triumph.
The recruits assisted Brian in replacing the filter, inserting it into the slot.
"Hey, I learned the coolest thing the other day," said Brian as he worked to secure the new filter. "Apparently, the Harvesters will have these built-in communication modules that'll allow Hybrids to talk to them in math-based code. Pretty neat, right? I mean, human language certainly has its perks, but nothing beats greeting one another with differential calculus."
"Yeah, totally," agreed Dan with feigned enthusiasm.
"They're gonna be coming soon, you know," continued Brian. "The First Wave is almost complete. Although, things have been going kind of slow ever since Newton got blown up in Darfur back in '05. I guess Newton was supposed to lead the Second Wave, but they say Gottfried is going to lead it now."
In addition to not knowing what exactly the Shapeshifter was talking about, Dan was finding Brian's increasingly chatty disposition to be somewhat irritating. And whenever he would talk, he would stop working on the filter (the slot where it went was apparently damaged) and addressed them directly, so all the pseudo-shifters could do was stand and nod. They were getting impatient, and realized that if they did not act soon, they would not be able to use the element of surprise to their advantage.
"Looks like you're eager to meet the Harvesters," noted Gary.
"Not that much, actually," confided Brian. "I'm more looking forward to getting extracted than anything else. I've been here for seven years, and I've had five identities. I've grown fond of this world and its many sights, but like Annabelle once said, there's no place like home."
Dan tried to imagine what kind of place these things came from, but had trouble picturing anything concrete. He could not help but think it was a dark place, and highly mechanized; who knows, perhaps they actually did come from ships stationed near the dark side of the moon. Wherever it was, he wanted nothing more than for Brian and his kind to return to their place of origin as soon as possible, because they sure as hell didn't belong here.
Brian snapped the panel back into place. He then arose and handed the pipe wrench back to Gary.
"I think I've been going a little too soft on you guys," he said. "Why don't you two handle the next one?"
"Sure thing," said Gary. "Oh, hey, um... the panel's kind of crooked."
Brian turned to verify Gary's claim.
And when he did, Watchdog delivered a devastating blow to the base of the Shapeshifter's skull with the wrench.
Brian lurched forward, landing on all fours. The no-longer-shifters honed in on their incapacitated target, intent on finishing off their prey. But as Watchdog held the wrench overhead for a second strike, Brian rose to his feet and gripped the Watchdog's wrist, restricting his ability to attack, before palming him square in the chest, sending him flying backwards onto the stone floor. Brian's face was contorted in pain and confusion, touching the back of his neck to find his fingers stained in mercurial blood; but when he saw pure crimson drops trickling out of the Watchdog's mouth, whatever remained of Brian's acquired human identity was gone, revealing the brutally efficient machine underneath through his wrathful visage.
"Humans?" cried the Hybrid in shock.
No sooner could he assess the situation when Crow grabbed him from behind, putting him in a headlock and trying to wrestle him into submission; but Brian, being the more experienced fighter, managed to flip the human over his head, who fell with a thud. Crow slowed to a rise, his back electric with pain. Before him stood a creature stricken with fury and disorientation; but in the fleeting moment that Brian stared him on and summoned the pistol wedged in the back of his pants, Dan could have sworn he saw fear and the pain of betrayal in the Hybrid's blue eyes.
Then Watchdog suddenly swooped in with the wrench and struck Brian across the face with what strength he had left, and the Hybrid's face whipped hard to its right with a crunching sound, expelling a jet of silver from its mouth and letting the pistol slide across the floor. Brian retaliated almost instantly, kicking Gary in the knee, causing his leg to buckle. He then struck a blow to the human's face with the back of his hand. Without thinking, Dan came to his partner's aid, spearing the Shapeshifter to the ground, who let out a cry as they fell. The two wrestled briefly, and Dan positioned himself upon Brian's chest to let his fists fly, putting his weight into every blow. Dan continued to wail on him, intent on punching his face in, but then stopped and arose in disgust when he realized he actually was punching his face in; the bones on Brian's face began to implode with a sickening crunch at every blow, becoming a twisted and barely recognizable, mercury-laced mass of wrinkled skin, with valleys and jagged peaks of displaced and decimated synthetic bone matter.
Dan ran his hands through his hair, breathing hard. Gary stumbled to his side, wiping the blood from his mouth with his sleeve, and they stared at Brian's inert body.
"Is he... dead?" asked Gary.
A small pool of mercury was forming around Brian's head. Was he dead? Was he ever alive to begin with, in the same way he and Gary was? He wasn't quite sure, but seeing the body lying there – and knowing that it was the instinctual bloodlust that possessed him that was the cause – left a uncomfortable knot in his stomach.
"I don't know," said Dan at length. "But we can't just stand here. The others are counting on us."
Dan took a few steps into the distance and picked up Brian's gun, which lay near the base of the tank, and handed it to Gary.
"Alright," said Dan. "I'm going back up to smuggle them in. You guard this place while I'm gone, and keep on the lookout in case someone else comes down here. If I don't come back with the rest of the team in fifteen minutes, then abandon the mission and get out of here as fast as you can. Got it?"
"Understood," said Gary.
Dan began to walk away, but Gary stopped him.
"This might be the last time we ever see each other, you know," he said. "So before you go, I just want to say that it's been an honour serving with you thus far, Crow."
"Uh, thanks," replied Dan. "It's been an honour for me, too."
They shook hands with great respect.
"You know," said Gary, "we Truth-Seekers spend our whole lives searching for the Truth, but the only Truth we ever really needed to know was inside ourselves all along."
"Gee, thanks, Mister Miyagi," said Dan with a sarcastic edge.
"I always wanted to leave someone with some profound words of wisdom," said the Watchdog, smirking.
Dan nodded before turning to leave.
"Crow, wait!" cried Gary once again.
"What?" answered Dan. He was beginning to find Gary's incessant interpellations an annoyance.
"...You forgot the key."
"Oh, right," said Dan. "Thanks."
Dan went over to Brian's body, and, grimacing, searched his pockets, paranoid that the Shapeshifter would suddenly rise again and grip his arm. But thankfully, he didn't, and Dan removed the key, placing it in his coat pocket.
"I'll be back in a bit," said Dan.
"Good luck, Daniel Thompson," replied the Watchdog.
With the Titan Processing Plant secured, Crow sped off across the concrete expanse, disappearing back into the tunnels they had entered from. Once his partner was gone, the Watchdog readied himself, gripping the pistol tightly, all the while keeping an eye on Brian's body as it lay unmoving before the great glass tanks of the Omega Wave Titans.