Rogue by Mark Frost Page A

discomfort. “Similar, to some extent, only in that they’re all hybrids—that is to say, genetic fusions of our life-forms with theirs.”
    “Where are these things?” asked Will.
    “They haven’t disclosed to us where most of these ‘sleepers’ are located as of yet, but I’m confident that they’ve left a goodly number of them behind. Strategically situated near areas where they felt they would eventually be needed, ready to be activated when the moment is at hand. The moment of truth. And I can assure you, Will, that time is drawing near.”
    Will listened carefully; the faint hum of the elevator had stopped moments earlier, at the top of the shaft. He pictured his friends stepping on board as the doors slid open. He quickly opened up a channel, reaching out to find Elise.
    Hobbes is down here. So are the Hodaks and Lemuel Clegg. I’ll update you. Be ready.
    It seemed an eternity—maybe two seconds in real time—before he heard her answer:
    Roger that.
    “What about this one on the left?” asked Will as he pointed to a flat, round silver disc, about six inches across, fashioned from some kind of slick advanced polymers.
    “Ah, this one’s a medical device,” Franklin rattled on, full of pride. “Astonishingly effective at repairing human tissue at the cellular level. They work only once but fortunately they’re not difficult to produce. I’ve used them myself, many times, on everything from a sprained ankle to the common cold.”
    “How do they work?”
    “To be honest, we’re still trying to find that out ourselves—something to do with how the signal it emits interacts on an electromagnetic level with the bacterial biome of the injury itself. I’d say there’s more than a little money to be made with that one, wouldn’t you agree?”
    Will nodded, countering Franklin as he moved around, stepping behind the steel container in order to put it between himself and the door. He momentarily sent his senses far above and detected the slightest shudder as the elevator began to descend again. He started a countdown in his head for the time it would take to reach them; there was still a lot more he needed to learn from Franklin. A few minutes’ worth at least. Will felt his pulse kick up a notch, adrenaline starting to thump through his body.
    Franklin glanced back at the elevator, distracted, as he realized it was descending toward them. Will didn’t want him thinking about that.
    “Now this one I’ve seen before,” said Will, pointing to the device in the center of the shelf’s container.
    “Yes, I know you have,” said Franklin, tapping it with a fingernail. “We call this one the Carver, which I think you know as well.”
    “That’s the one Lyle took.”
    “Yes. As I’ve explained, we should never have put our faith in that Ogilvy boy, for any number of reasons.”
    “I saw him use it,” said Will, “but I still don’t understand exactly how it works.”
    Franklin’s fingers traced delicately over the Carver’s elaborate handle. “It allows us to open a temporary passage, between our world and the space where our friends reside. We’ve also learned we can use these symbols along the handle here to call certain kinds of their creations over to our side. On an as-needed basis.”
    Like the ones you sent to kill me in Ojai before you knew who I was,
thought Will.
    “How?”
    “You simply switch it on, here, and point it where you want to create the portal,” said Franklin as he picked it up and demonstrated, without actually activating the device. “Like so.”
    “Isn’t that something?” said Will, resisting the impulse to touch, or grab for the device, just yet.
    “And then hold on tight. Both hands. I’m told it can deliver quite a kick.”
    “I’m a little confused, sir. I mean, if they want so badly to find their way back into this world, why don’t they just build one of these things themselves and use it to carve a hole over there?”
    “That’s another astute