Reassemble (Singular Book 4)

by Larry Buenafe

  -I assume you’ll need someone to continue to oversee the operation, eh?

  -Well, of course. Don’t worry, (WK). We’ll get you out when the time comes. Now, remember, right up front we said very clearly that being in the LFP would involve some risk, and you’ve put yourself out there way more than most. There’ll be a significant reward for that. In fact, my thought was to have you go first when we finally get the boy’s tech. How does that sound?

  -It sounds like you plan on making me a guinea pig, to be honest.

  -Jeez. You see that, (SVC)? (WK) is counting how many teeth the gift horse has and checking her for cavities. Speaking of pigs, though, how about a late-night snack that includes bacon?

  ****

  A s I sprinted toward the entrance to the cavern and Kane’s office, Cheri, once again riding piggyback-style, whispered in my ear, “I’m guessing Kane knows about the quantum communicators, but just in case he doesn’t, we probably shouldn’t mention them.”

  “Okay. If he doesn’t let us use the Bright Hand jet to get to the US, though, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

  “Oh, he probably knows all about the stuff Zoey told you. I know she’s done her best to keep information private, but he’s pretty tricky. I wouldn’t be surprised if he knows everything.”

  “Well, maybe we’ll find out soon. There are the steps up to his office.”

  We slowed to a stop and Cheri hopped off my back. At the top of the stone steps, carved into the side of the cavern wall, was a platform and the door leading down the concrete hall to Mr. Kane’s office. Willard, one of Mr. Kane’s bodyguards, stood on the platform in his usual all-black military-style fatigues, his face contorted in hawk-like intensity. Huh… that’s strange… he and the other gigantic bodyguard are usually right by Mr. Kane...

  “Hey, Wills, you look like you just ate a cactus. What’s up?” cried Cheri as we bounded up the steps to the platform.

  Willard swung open the massive steel door and said, “Hello Miss Kim, Mr. Taylor. Mr. Kane is waiting for you. Right this way, please.”

  Cheri, her head cocked to the side and her one remaining hand on her hip, said, “I don’t know why you talk to me that way. It’s not like we don’t know one another.”

  “Just doing my job, ma’am. After you, please.” Then he made a slight wink, and Cheri smiled. So, I guess that it meant something I didn’t get. Still… I don’t think I would have noticed it at all before our reboot… interesting…

  We hustled down the bare concrete hall to the second imposing steel door leading into Mr. Kane’s office, and as Willard manipulated the hand panel next to the entrance, I listened intently to see If I could hear Mr. Kane, and although it was faint, I clearly heard him say, “It sounds like you’re planning on making me a guinea pig, to be honest.” Then there was a pause, and he said, “Bacon is not good for you, you know. The nitrates and such. Yes, I’ll contact you as soon as I hear from the boy. Thank you, Director Shamley.”

  As the door swung open, Mr. Kane was clicking off his phone, and for just a moment he had what looked to me like an expression of disgust on his face, quickly replaced by his usual Hollywood smile. “Well, finally! Hello, Lucas, Ms. Kim. We have much to discuss, and not much time, I’m assuming.” He turned to his bodyguards and said, “That will be all, gentlemen. Wait for me out on the platform.”

  The two gigantic, totally bald men glanced at one another. “Are you sure, Mr. Kane?” asked Willard.

  With a dismissive wave of his hand, Mr. Kane said, “Of course. I’ll alert you if I need your assistance. That will be all.”

  Once the massive metal door closed behind them, Mr. Kane said, “They’re just concerned for my safety; that’s their job, and they do it well. Please, let’s sit at the table.”

  We seated ourselves at the huge, ebony office table, and the smile was gone from Mr. Kane’s face as he looked down at his folded hands, which actually seemed to shake a little.

  “He’s trying to decide on something… just give him a minute and let’s see what happens. His vitals are off the charts for him… respiration, heart rate, BP. Seems like he has an eight-hundred-pound gorilla on his back.”

  An eight-hundred-pound… wait, I get it… a heavy weight that hangs on tight…

  “Not bad, sonny boy. I mean, it’s not like you’ll ever catch up to me, but you’re getting better. Hope springs eternal.”

  Wait… is that a place or a saying? Oh, I remember… you’ve said that one before…

  Mr. Kane finally looked up, and now he was definitely shaking. He cleared his throat and began slowly: “Lucas, Ms. Kim, I am at a crossroads. I’m being left out to dry, thrown to the wolves, as it were. If you don’t mind, I will drop the carefully cultivated cloak of intellectualism I use to protect myself and speak plainly to you.”

  Cheri and I made eye contact, and in my mind, Ava said, “Ah, here we go.”

  “I’ve been in it from the beginning, did you know that? I organized the Bright Hand, contacted all the scientists, engineers, everyone. I convinced them that if they wanted to do good work, valuable work, and most importantly, work not meant for military purposes, that I knew the path forward for them. I got them to trust me and follow me when we were just small cadres working in secret labs around the world. I cultivated the Bright Hand’s reputation as a possible terrorist organization to confuse the public, and mainly the Americans, and to disguise our actual purpose. I arranged the construction of this cavern, one of the monumental engineering feats of modern times, and almost no one even knows it exists. I organized the transportation of all these portable labs in the cavern, which was difficult because they had to be moved in pieces and constructed here to avoid the kind of attention a stream of mobile homes traveling through the Australian outback would attract. I nudged the scientists and engineers away from their pet projects and onto the life-extension research most of them are working on now, and they were happy to do it; at least they weren’t working on nuclear weapons or creating super-soldiers. As far as they knew, at any rate. Of course, they knew that we had benefactors and that they had certain interests, but I kept all that at a distance to give them the impression of relative autonomy.

  “I learned of your father’s work and arranged for some funds to go his way anonymously; how do you think they could construct that underground lab? How do you think they could escape the Americans? I hired Alexy Testikov, the ship captain whom you will undoubtedly remember, to watch over you and get you and your people safely to Australia. I convinced Zoey Perez to leave her double life in America and come here full time, mainly so she would be on the ship to provide communications. Oh, speaking of communications, I know about the quantum communicators that Dr. Engel and Dr. Scharfman arranged for you to use. Sorry, but there is not much that goes on here that I don’t know about. Finally, I knew you would need a benefactor, someone to guide you, so I arranged for Ms. Kim to follow you full time.”

  I turned to Cheri. “you’ve been doing all this because he hired you to do it?”

  She shook her head and her eyes filled with tears. “No, it’s not like that, Lucas. I… I…”

  Mr. Kane waved his hands to get my attention and said, “No, don’t hold that against her. She was not aware of my manipulations; she thought it was her idea. I’d say she went a little overboard in her dedication to you; it has cost her an arm and a bullet in the leg so far, and it’s not over yet. In fact, I had planned on pulling her back from you at some point, but when I saw how she was completely committed to you, I released the reins, so to speak. Again, all without her knowledge. In fact, I think if she knew it was my idea, she wouldn’t have done it. Although I gently pointed her in your direction, she chose to go with you; I just allowed it to happen.”

  I looked down at my hands because I didn’t want to look up. “I’m… I’m sorry, Cheri. I… I’m dumb sometimes.”

  I glanced up at her as she wiped a tear away from her cheek. It’s easy to forget she’s a girl sometimes… an
d how pretty she is, too… I kind of think of her as my sister or something, but… I mean, she’s tough, and smart, and knows how to deal with people… way better than me…

  She took a deep breath, and said, “You’re right, you are dumb sometimes.”

  That struck me as funny for some reason, and I started giggling, which caused her to snicker too.

  “Yes, well, sorry for that unpleasantness, both of you. I’m the one who must apologize. These preposterous tasks the Americans set for you? I knew of them well in advance, and made sure you would have some technology developed here to help you, but I could have done more. No, I should have done more. Why didn’t I? Because my employers wanted it that way, and I convinced myself I was doing it for some vague ‘greater good’. My employers felt that your technology needed some significant tests to see just how robust it is, and I went along with it, all the while knowing it was not just a technological marvel we were throwing at those tests, but there was a fourteen-year-old boy in there as well. A literal innocent, if you don’t mind me using that term to describe you.

  “You have obviously surmised that my employers want your technology not for military purposes, but for their own use. They intend to leave this planet, and to survive the trip through interstellar space, they need to have extremely long lifespans and bodies that can withstand almost anything. They have financed the development of an engine that can achieve a significant fraction of the speed of light; ten percent or perhaps a bit more, especially if they can get their fusion reactor functioning, but even at that speed it will take many years to reach the nearest habitable planets, and they are not building a generational ship, they plan to get there themselves. Oh, by the way, the fusion reactor project is, of course, the reason your friend Benji Walker interests them, and the reason I encouraged Dr. Lazenbee to become friendly with him. Not to worry, though; she eventually refused because she found that she was genuinely interested in him. I allowed her to leave with your friends when they returned to the nation’s cavern. Oh, I suppose you know that’s not their actual destination; I assume that you know of their plan to fly to Las Vegas to join the siege on Area 51. You probably know by now, especially after your meeting with Zoey Perez, that the LFP set that entire thing up to ease the way for you.

  “At any rate, their need for extended life spans was the reason for almost all the research and development the Bright Hand has been engaged in. Did you know that the treatments that our incarcerated American, Ernie Mesa, was on were early developments from our scientists? Did you also know that the researchers who developed the treatments they used on your friend Hassim Rajput are here and have been refining their program even more? Still, none of it is a match for you… you came along with your miraculous system, and practically rendered all of them moot. We both know a little secret they don’t, though, don’t we? All of that technology would not work if not for two things: that you lost your biological arms and legs allows the system to work with much greater flexibility, speed, and strength, and that one-of-a-kind A.I. you have in your head makes it all go. I imagine most of them will have second thoughts when they realize they will have to lose their extremities, eh?”

  He paused, rubbing his face with both hands, and Cheri and I both sat back, shocked at what we had heard. When he continued, his dazzling smile was finally back in place. “Well, let me tell you, friends, if the LFP and their illustrious director, Mikayla Grace Shamley, genius stock market speculator and youngest billionaire of all time, think they can toss me to the side with no repercussions, they are sadly mistaken. Lucas, Ms. Kim, let’s go rescue your father, shall we?”

  12

  DIRECTOR’S NOTES

  MEETING WITH SVC

  121952 00:31

  DIRECTOR’S NOTE TO TRANSCRIPT A.I.: To maintain anonymity, we will continue with the practice of using coded initials to identify the members of the LFP. Do not redact the names of any others.

  -Hey, pour me a little more, (SVC). Whoa, I’m a little tipsy. You really want to hear my story, huh?

  -Of course. If we’re going to stay here twenty-four hours a day, I at least deserve some entertainment.

  -Ha! Well guess what, buddy? I’m going to tell you something I have told no one, ever. I’ve been wanting to, and now, with everything on the line… well, it feels like the time is right. You’ll have to agree to keep it between us, though, under penalty of death. And don’t forget, I have a laser pistol, so I could do it.

  -I thought you said you were joking about the laser.

  -Maybe. Or maybe I was joking about joking about it.

  -I see. Well, either way, I give my oath. Whatever enters through my ears will not escape through my lips.

  -All right. You’re sure? Totally sure?

  -…

  -Oh, I see what you did there. This will totally ruin my reputation, you know that? Aww, I’ve been dying to tell someone for ages, though. Okay, so you know my mother?

  -Of course. Although not quite as rich as you, Ariel Shamley emerged from the ashes of the great Pacific Tsunami to dominate the market seemingly out of thin air.

  -Yeah, well, I have more money than her because she gave lots of hers to me and then gave me the secret. Don’t fool yourself, though, I learned the ropes and capitalized, and it was me who dominated the market. Me! So, anyway, where was I… Oh, yeah. My dad, do you know his story?

  -I’ve never heard you mention him.

  -Yeah, well, there’s a reason for that. His name is Ferdinand Jordan, did you know that? Jordan was my last name until my mom had it legally changed back to her maiden name. Oh, I bet you didn’t know this: (G) is my middle name. My first name is (M) but I stopped using it when my last name got changed. Just seemed like the thing to do. Anyway, he seemed like a likeable guy, and he was always good to me. Really smart and handsome, and my mom told me that for some reason she became interested in him the first time she heard his name, and she always called him Ferdie. I got the feeling he didn’t really like it, but he never said anything. There was lots of other stuff he wasn’t saying too, as it turned out. Dear old dad was a dear old dog and had been… what’s that word? Man, this liquor is getting to me… oh yeah, philan… phil… he had been sleeping around, apparently for years. When she finally confronted him on it, they had a big fight… I remember hiding in the garage, it scared me so bad. The next day he was gone, and I never saw him again. I was five. That’s a tough one for a five-year-old. It was childhood trauma one-oh-one, right? I figured it was something I did, felt guilty for a long time, then angry. Especially once I knew what really happened.

  So, dad was the major source of income for us, and once he disappeared things got tough. Eventually we lost our house and were homeless for a little while. Then something strange happened. Not strange, more like supernatural. Yeah, I know, I don’t believe in that stuff either, but I don’t know how else to explain it. We were sleeping on the side of a freeway, and when we woke up, there was a note that just seemed to come out of nowhere. I couldn’t read well enough to know what it said, but my mom told me… there were ten hundred-dollar bills and the note said to go right away and invest all of it on a certain tech stock. Said you’ll be rich in a week if you do this right now, and it was signed by Uncle Marsh-dog. One day years earlier, when I was three, mom told me a tall, redheaded kid showed up at our door and immediately started crying. She said it was the strangest feeling she ever had… like she knew him, or was even related to him, but it was only a feeling… And she said when he was leaving, he called a kid with a huge afro waiting for him Marsh-dog. She said the weirdest thing of all was that the two boys and a tall, dark-haired girl with them just seemed to disappear as they walked away. She said that eventually she just convinced herself that she had imagined the entire thing. Well, mom invested nine hundred, and kept the rest to get us some food, and sure enough, in a week that nine hundred was ten thousand. Then there was another note… it said take half of the ten-thousand and invest it in a different tech company, one no one knew
of at the time. Two weeks later we had a hundred and fifty thousand bucks and were in an apartment. We were on our way, buddy. The notes kept coming in, out of nowhere, and they were all winners, every one of them. Within a year we were over the two-million mark. I was eight by this time, and mom showed me the ins and outs of investing. The next note that came in, she put the investment in my name, and it was the biggest score yet. We netted a hundred million on that one day. Eventually we had to pull back because we were getting too much attention from regulators and the like, but the notes kept coming until the day I reached a billion. The next day came the last note. It said, ‘Dude, I think you got the hang of this by now. I’ll be watching. Uncle Marsh-dog’. I wish I knew who that was, but he was right; I got the hang of things, and I was quick with the tech, and here we are. What’s that look on your face?

  -Well, it seems a bit far-fetched, you must admit. You’re telling me the billions you and your mother have accumulated are all based on notes from a mysterious figure, and you have no idea where they came from or who this person is?

  -I know, crazy, right? Here, pour me just a little bit more. A girl has to be careful, you know. Anyway, my mom was always haunted by dreams of a brother she never had, and then these notes… it was like they came from the future, and just wanted to make sure they set us up. Well, anyway, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what happened.

  -That is quite a story. Perhaps you should write it down one day.

  -You’re still dubious, aren’t you? Why would I make up a story like that? It makes me look like a complete charla… char… faker. If I was going to make up a story, it would make me look good, not bad. Oh, well. Call the driver, I need to get a little rest. Tomorrow will be a long day. Oh, have him pick up a few donuts on the way, okay?