Anger Management

by Lawrence M Schoen

  “Potato. It’s never shown this degree of interest in anyone. Not any of the Box, and not me. Potato. Does. Not. Snuggle.”

  The actor looked offended. “That’s not completely true. He likes me.”

  “Only since your virus became active. Before that he liked you about as much as your exes. Oh my…” She dumped Potato off her lap and rushed to another of the suite's bedrooms, the one that she claimed as her temporary lab. She'd moved quickly, suggesting she was fully recovered, highly motivated, or both. Coop followed more slowly. He found her sprawled across the bed she'd transformed into a makeshift examination table, running a hand-scanner over her abdomen.

  “Aha!

  “Aha, what?” said Coop. “What does the scanner's readout mean?”

  “It means my version of the virus is more active than it’s ever been. It had taken up residence near my adrenal gland but now its hyper-active. And it has spread throughout my circulatory system.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “Better than good,” Jessica replied. “If I’m right, then Dyrk should be able to have more control in guiding the virus to remake me into a clone of Tycho.”

  Coop raised his hand, offering Jess a ‘high five’ but she ignored him and left him hanging as she stood up from the table instead.

  He sheepishly lowered his hand.

  “So, what happened that caused the virus to kick in?”

  “Fear. Blind terror. Abject horror. My version of the virus was created after exposing Potato to thousands of hours of horror films, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. I knew all that. Just like Dyrk was based on endless action flicks. But… I know you need adrenaline to kick things off, but you've had it before. The virus should have been working already, right?”

  “Ah, but that’s where I think you’re wrong. Where I have been wrong. The virus isn’t just looking for an influx of adrenaline, like I first thought. I’ve tested for that in all three of us. It’s a necessary but not sufficient piece of the puzzle. There’s a cognitive component that’s in play as well. That’s probably why my cinematic treatments never worked with the non-sapient lab animals. They didn’t form the associations to the films that a human brain can.”

  Cooper nodded as understanding dawned on him. “So, when the virus started working in me, it wasn’t just because of the adrenaline, it was because of the situation I was in?”

  “Exactly. A ‘fight or flight’ scenario releases the adrenaline, but that’s only the first step. I think there is also a dynamic, situational factor as well. For you, with the action-adventure tropes, you needed to be in an environment of danger that also offered you something that you could fight against. I’ve suspected this since we fled Scatola’s ranch. Now this new data confirms it. The virus in me is happy to work, but only if I’m scared out of my mind first. Textbook style panic attack or better.”

  “Right. And nothing like a killer robot aiming energy weapons at you to get the blood pumping. This sounds like a terrible way to get healthy.”

  Jessica shuddered. “Seriously.”

  «Ben, I think she’s right. I can sense the virus in her. It has definitely entered a new stage. Let me in.»

  Ben groaned. “Dyrk wants to talk to you. I’ll be back.”

  Dyrk came to the fore and grabbed Jessica’s hands. She raised an eyebrow.

  “Do you think you can do it this time?”

  «I’m not promising anything, Dr. Acorns, but it feels different. The virus is more malleable… more awake than it was before. My instinct tells me you’re on to something and we need to try again. Right now.»

  Jessica shrugged off the tension. “All right. Go ahead.”

  Dyrk leaned in as he had before, bringing his face close enough that he could smell her breath and ensure that she had no choice but to inhale his. Communicating with the virus in her was all about sending and receiving pheromones that ordinary humans never noticed, and that Ben probably hadn't ever produced before. He closed his eyes and furrowed his brow in concentration. He felt the virus. It was there, waiting for him. It seemed almost eager for his guidance. It really had spread out across Jessica’s system. And it felt more… alive. More present and reachable.

  He plunged in with all of his will.

  Dyrk worked fast. It was much easier this time. He isolated a portion of Jessica's virus and once again introduced a sample of Tycho’s virus. They seemed to get along better than the last time, Jessica's virus holding off its earlier inclination to combat the foreigner. Encouraged, he nudged the virus to start using Tycho’s DNA as its new paradigm and it offered no objection. So far so good. The final step was to convince it to share the new genetic template with the other instances of the virus resident in her system. They all had to be onboard or there was no point beginning the larger alteration of her body.

  Guiding and changing the virus was hard work. As time wore on, he began to encounter push back as Jessica's virus again resisted the instructions from Tycho's virus, requiring him to override the resident virus. It was exhausting work. Minutes ticked by and for a change Ben stayed silent in their shared mind, sparing him any distraction. Dyrk kept going, exerting his considerable will. He felt the change begin to take hold, one virus giving way to the other.

  His hands shook and his knees wobbled. Minutes ticked past but Dyrk held on.

  Finally, after half an hour, Dyrk collapsed onto one knee and let go of Jessica’s hands with a sigh that spoke of incredible fatigue, but also of satisfaction.

  He retreated to the welcoming confines at the rear of Ben’s consciousness and left the actor alone with Jessica.

  Chapter 6

  The doctor looked down and locked eyes with Coop. “Did it work?” she asked.

  “How should I know?”

  “Well, ask Dyrk!”

  “I can’t. He’s gone.”

  “What do you mean, he’s gone? Where could he go? He lives inside your brain!”

  “I mean he’s gone to ground. He’s totally spent. Wiped out. But don’t worry. He’s done this before and he’ll be back as soon as he recovers.” Coop stood back up and waved at the monitors that she had scattered around the room. “Can’t you tell if it's working? You know, with all your science… stuff.”

  Jess smacked her forehead and started tapping away on her tablet.

  “Huh. Something is happening. But… I think it’s a race.”

  “A race?”

  “Between the virus that’s doing the original work, and the virus that Dyrk set to modifying that version. The initial burst of activity coincides with my panic, but the effectiveness is receding in parallel to my parasympathetic nervous system calming me down.”

  “So… you need to be scared again before the instructions Dyrk gave your virus will kick in fully?”

  “Not just scared,” said Jess. “Terrified.”

  «I don’t think that will be a problem,” said Dyrk.

  “Welcome back, buddy.”

  “Dyrk? Is he there? Can he do anything more?”

  «Tell her I’m back, barely. I feel like I went ten rounds with an entire Olympic Sumo team! Let her know that I’ve done all I can. Now it’s up to her own virus. But I think she’s right.»

  “So, I just need to come up with something to frighten her?

  «Or we could just wait around and the Box will come for her again, with more guns and threats of imminent death,» offered Dyrk helpfully.

  Coop nodded to the unseen voice in his head. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  “What?” asked Jessica. “What is he right about?”

  “The Box. They’re pretty relentless. Even if we don’t scare you deliberately, they’re likely to show up and do it again for real.”

  Jessica crossed her arms. “There are problems with both of those ideas.”

  «Problems?»

  “How do you mean?”

  “If you’re creating something to scare me, and I know it’s coming, will that knowledge modulate the level of panic
to something below whatever threshold the virus needs?”

  “I don't think that's going to matter. Dyrk thinks Doos had some kind of Fear gun.”

  “Oh. Huh. Well, that leaves the second problem. Repeated terror of this magnitude is going to produce deleterious side effects, beyond anything the virus is able to handle quickly enough.”

  Coop sighed. “In English, Jess. Please.”

  She tapped the face of her tablet and showed it to him. He stared at it without comprehension for a few ticks and added, “Spoken English.”

  Jessica sighed. “My cortisol levels are through the roof. They’re already coming back down and once it’s fully activated, the virus will probably restore any physical damage like loss of bone density. But the psychological damage could be permanent.”

  «What kind of psychological damage?»

  “What kind of psychological damage?”

  “Flashbulb memories. Intense, full body memories of the event that are more vivid than everyday stuff. It’s more like re-experiencing the trauma than simply remembering it. Extreme PTSD kind of stuff.”

  “I’ve known people like that,” said Coop, more serious than Jess had ever seen him. “It can be its own kind of living hell. So, let’s just take that off the table. It’s not worth it.”

  «What if it’s a choice between that, and her syndrome killing her?»

  As if echoing Dyrk’s thought that she couldn’t hear, Jessica said “That may not be something I have a choice over.”

  Coop had no answers and needed to think. He turned on his heel and stepped back into the main suite where he knelt down beside the remains of Doos. It had ceased to smoke, and things had cooled off enough that he didn’t mind getting close.

  He examined the extensions that now littered the floor.

  Five of the six arms had interchangeable, plug-and-play attachments that represented an arsenal of alien technology. Some fired semi-standard projectiles. They had mechanics similar enough to conventional weapons that even he could identify them. They exuded death.

  A pair looked like they shot something other than bullets. He recognized them as the rapid-firing energy weapons the Box had used to shoot down his bar glasses. “Fancy stuff. This is gonna fetch a pretty penny. It should make Al happy.”

  Then he looked at the sixth and final extension. It didn’t look dangerous. In fact, it looked like some kind of scanner. It was mounted on an extendable and highly flexible arm. And it had a release button which Coop pushed. The device fell into the palm of his hand.

  He stood with the scanner in his hands and began to wave it around the room. Nothing happened.

  “What the hell is that thing?”

  Jess walked in with Potato cradled snuggly in her arms. The little alien seemed like it was trying to bathe her with its tongue. It was simultaneously adorable and icky.

  The scanner emitted a pinging noise which almost caused Coop to drop it.

  “Whoa.”

  As Jess got closer the pinging grew louder. A display screen lit up on the back of the device. It showed a smear of color that seemed to track her path toward Coop.

  He pointed it away from her and the colors faded. When he pointed it back in her direction, they reappeared.

  The doctor took the device and studied it, walking around the room and noting changes on the screen. “Okay, that answers the question of how this Doos found us.”

  “It does?”

  “This is a gene-sniffer. If I had to guess, I'd say it’s calibrated to my DNA. Potato’s too, by the look of it. It led the Box right to us.”

  “How did it do that?”

  Jess took a breath and looked like she was about to launch into a detailed explanation complete with the verbal equivalent of a dozen or more illuminating slides. Then she must have considered her audience and sighed before settling on a simple answer that would probably still go above his head.

  “It compares a template of me to tiny bits of DNA that living creatures leave behind in the air when we breathe. Patterns of concentration and dispersal allow it to construct a genetic vapor trail that shows where the target’s been and how long ago, and ultimately lead to where it is. Think of it as the most sophisticated blood hound you can imagine.”

  “It can track Potato too?”

  “Even easier with Potato. Its template is the primary one the sniffer is using. There’s nothing like Potato’s DNA anywhere else on Titan, whereas tracking me would require a higher degree of discrimination to dampen the number of false positives from other human DNA.”

  Inside Coop’s head Dyrk chimed in. «Which means they’ll find us again. The one thing the Box know better than anyone else is what makes Potato tick.»

  “Dyrk says they’ll keep coming.”

  “He’s right,” said Jessica. “Assuming there are more instances of Doos on Titan, it has no reason to stop. Nothing matters more to the Box than Potato and what it represents. And now they can literally smell where we’ve been.”

  “So, we’re back to one of your adrenaline rush situations,” said Cooper. “Fight or flight. Do we stay here, build up our defenses, and attempt to take out whatever they send at us, or do we make a run for it and get you and Potato back to safety?”

  “I’m only their secondary goal. You heard Doos, they’ll settle for my body. It’s Potato that they want. And we knew that going in. The Box will stop at nothing to get him back. They’ll just keep throwing more and more resources at us until we’re overwhelmed, even if it means the death of everyone around us. They’d consider that justifiable collateral damage. Remember, they see this as the equivalent of a holy war.”

  «It’s against my nature to run from conflict,” said Dyrk. «But she’s right. In this situation, I think our only option is to mount a… tactical redeployment.»

  Coop smirked. “You mean run away.”

  «Your words. Not mine.»

  The actor shook his head. “He won’t say it outright, but Dyrk agrees with you. Flight, not fight. So… you and Potato, can’t we just bundle you both into an environmental suit and slip away to a new spot?”

  Jessica considered. “Not unless the new spot is hermetically sealed.”

  «Like a space ship.»

  “We’ve still got several days before the next shuttle to Earth is loading,” said Coop.

  “What?”

  “Oh, sorry, Jess. I’m just shooting down Dyrk’s idea that we hide out in a spaceship.”

  “Huh. Actually, that could work.”

  “Hello? Still several…”

  “No, of course, obviously. But… that doesn’t mean we couldn’t buy a little time by hiding out in a different shuttle until then.”

  «See? It works. We just rent a cabin. It makes sense in a place like this. Real-estate and construction on Titan are expensive. We’ll just rent a room on a shuttle that’s grounded for repairs or some such thing and which would like to still generate some income. They probably sell the space for ultra-private meetings and clandestine rendezvous. It’s kind of sordid, but that might work to our advantage. Besides, I find sordid things fascinating.»

  “I don’t know…”

  “What don’t you know?” Jessica asked, the frustration of hearing only one side of Cooper’s internal dialogue evident from the pinched look on her face.

  “Dyrk thinks we might be able to find a room that rents by the hour.”

  Jessica groaned. “Why does he always propose hiding out in brothels?”

  “I try not to dwell on it too much. Besides, you raised him.”

  Chapter 7

  Jessica retreated to her lab to research the availability of rental spaces on grounded shuttles. This left Coop and Dyrk alone to think. Whether they liked it or not.

  «Ben, I think we need a Plan B.»

  “Our primary plan is your plan. Why do you suddenly think we need a backup? This does not inspire confidence. Is something wrong with your plan?”

  «Of course not. It’s a great plan. But you know the ol
d saying. ‘The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft a-gley.’»

  “Gang of what?”

  «It means ‘shit happens’, Ben.»

  “Why didn’t you just say that? Okay, so, a backup plan…” He began pacing the length of the room. “You know…”

  «What?»

  “Well, if Plan A is to isolate Jess and Potato so that DNA sniffer can’t find them, what if Plan B makes it certain that they get found?”

  «That would be a stupid, stupid plan. What, are you thinking we can ambush them one after another? We don't even know how many avatars Doos brought with it. I was able to beat one of them, mostly because it was all strategy and no tactics. I don't know that I'll be so lucky if it shows up in force. The last thing we want is for a dozen killer Box to find Dr. Acorns and Potato.»

  “Not if it finds them everywhere.”

  «If I had control of our body, I’d choke us right now. And we would deserve it.»

  Coop patted the air with his hands. “Dammit, give me a minute to explain. I don’t mean we let the Box find either of them. I mean we make sure they find their DNA all over the damn place. Everywhere. It's in hair, right? What if we shave Potato and then leave its fur all over the freaking spaceport? It should have the Box running around in circles chasing his DNA.”

  «Ben, you are less stupid than I thought. And I live inside your brain, so take that for what it’s worth.»

  “I have no idea how to take that. So, I choose to take it as a compliment.”

  «You do that. Now call Jessica in here so we can tell her the plan. We need to move on this.»

  “Right. Hey, Jess!”

  The doctor appeared in the doorway, a small note card in her outstretched hand. “I've found several potential shuttle cabins that would serve our needs.”

  “That's great, but that's only part of the plan.”

  “I don't understand.”

  “Dyrk and I have come up with an auxiliary plan. Or, no, I guess it's more of a supplemental plan.”

  “A supplemental plan?”