-Huh. That (WK) is clever… what do you think he’s up to? And visiting that Mesa character seems like asking for trouble, doesn’t it? And stop making those ‘air quotes’ movements when you talk. It’s annoying.
-Oh, please, by all means pardon me for attempting to liven up the discussion.
-Oh, whatever, Snarky McSnarkerston. I’ll ask again: what kind of monkey business do you suppose (WK) is trying?
-Well, my first guess, based on his behavior, is that he is attempting to ‘rally the troops’ to his side, perhaps for an attempted coup. I hope you notice I have made no ‘air quotes’ motions so far.
-A coup? What would he gain by doing that?
-Perhaps nothing aside from some measure of revenge, if he expects being left behind. If he convinced the Bright Handers we planned to move to New Zealand to stay with him, it would cause a bit of a disruption to our goals.
-Could he do that? Could he get them to refuse? And do they have the ability to refuse? Couldn’t we just force them to go?
-We could force them to go, but forcing them to comply with aiding our mission might be a more troublesome task.
-Maybe we need to up the timetable, then. Move them now, before their minds get infected by (WK).
-Before we do that, we would need to get (WK) sequestered. I can put that contingency plan into action if we think it’s necessary. It’ll take about thirty minutes to make it happen.
-It’s a good thing we set up all these contingencies in advance. I always had a feeling we might need to use this one. What did we call it again?
-Protocol seventeen B; in a fit of whimsy, we called it, “Where in the World is (WK)?”
-Oh, yeah. Sounds like the kind of thing that seems hysterical when you’re drunk, right?
-Undoubtedly. Shall I make the plan active?
-Oh, this gives me a nasty feeling. Kind of seems icky, doesn’t it? This guy’s been doing our bidding for years, and now, on a suspicion, we’re going to put him on lock-down?
-The alternative is to let things play out and simply hope for the best.
-Yeah, that’s no good. We can’t just leave things to chance. Okay, get it going, but if we’re going to do it we need to go all the way, so put the plan to get the essential Bright Handers over to NZ into action at the same time. By this time tomorrow, I want it all done so we don’t have to worry about it while the Area 51 rigamarole is happening. What’s that plan called, by the way?
-Protocol forty-one P; “The Plan to Move Essential Bright Handers to New Zealand.”
-Jeez. Did we give the writers the day off on that one or something? Don’t answer, just flip the switch to on, and while you’re at it flip the switch for some snacks to on also.
****
E rnie bolted to his feet while grabbing Cheri around the waist from behind as she turned away from him; Bill and I were both frozen as Ernie’s huge hand shot out in a ‘stop!’ gesture; his left arm held Cheri tight as she struggled to turn around to face him; and then, like a cheetah, Bill shot into action. As he dove across the three meter space toward Ernie, Cheri’s face turned toward me just enough for me to see her wink; Bill slid around behind Ernie, tripping him with a vicious leg-sweep, and Ernie toppled backward, releasing Cheri as he fell; Ernie’s head collided with the floor of the common area with a resounding thud!, but in a flash he rolled onto his stomach as Cheri scurried toward me; Bill, in a blur of motion, applied a judo hold on Ernie that my previous mental training told me they called Ude-hishigi-hiza-gatame, a technique where you kick out the far leg and arm of an opponent while pulling on their near arm to take them down to their belly; before Ernie knew what was happening, Bill spun on top of his back, pulling Ernie’s arm into a painful hammer-lock, and lifted him off the ground, dashing forward until Ernie’s face and the front of his body slammed into the wall of the common space so hard that bits of gravel tumbled down from the ceiling, all while Ernie was still half a meter off the ground.
Cheri and I stood with our eyes bugging out, my mouth wide open and Cheri’s covered by her new hand. “Oof!” Grunted Ernie, “Dude, Mr. Kane, you’re strong! And… and fast! And you got skills, too! You’re kind of hurting me, though… Chi, tell him it’s okay, please!”
While still holding Ernie in the air against the wall by one arm, Bill turned his head toward us, calm but puzzled. “Bill, it’s okay, it’s a misunderstanding,” Cheri cried. “He was just trying to give me a hug, but I was turning as he did it, so it looked awkward; well, it was awkward, but that’s all. He wasn’t trying to hurt me. Please, you can put him down.”
“Well, that was interesting. I think we have our answer, sonny boy,” said Ava, and then did her creepy A.I. laugh.
Man, I wish you wouldn’t do that… it hurts my… well, it doesn’t hurt my ears, but it hurts something up there in my brain.
“Oh, buck up, an A.I. likes to have a little fun every once in a while too. Somehow it feels more satisfying than before… all part of our reboot, more than likely.”
Oh, great.
Bill grunted. “You’re sure?” he said, holding Ernie immobile with what seemed like minor effort.
“Yeah, it was just a misunderstanding. You can let him go.”
The two door guards dashed into the room at that moment, and Bill gave them his pearly white smile as he lowered Ernie to the ground, patting him soothingly on the back. Both of the guards had flechette pistols leveled at Ernie, but Bill, his voice calm and clear, said, “Sorry for the alarm, gentlemen. It was all just a little fun, nothing more. Are you all right, Ernesto?”
“Uh, yeah, yeah, everything’s cool. No problemo. Well, my arm hurts and I have another lump on my head, but that’s no big whoop.”
“You see, gentlemen?” said Bill, spreading his arms wide, the light twinkling off his shiny teeth. “No big whoop. You may wait outside.”
Luther shook his head. “Mr. Kane…”
“No, no, it’s all right. Everything is under control. Thank you, Luther, Virgil.”
The two guards glanced at one another, shrugged their bulky shoulders, and shuffled out of the common area. Once they were gone, Bill, still patting Ernie on the back, said, “Well, I suppose my secret is out in the open now… my apologies, Ernesto. You gave me a bit of a fright. I thought you were attempting to… well, let’s put those unpleasant thoughts out of our minds. You’re sure you’re okay?”
“Oh, yeah, it’s cool. But look at you, Mr. Kane! You’re not even huffing and puffing or anything. How’d you get so strong and fast?”
“Oh, I’ve been undergoing treatments for quite some time, although significantly different from the ones you have been on.”
“Dude, you got that right! No one would even know. You just look totally normal, like Lucas. Well, he’s even stronger, but still… wait a minute, these guys called you Bill. Your name is Bill?”
Bill chuckled softly. “Well, yes, that’s why they called me that.”
“Nah, you know what I mean. I never heard anyone call you anything but Mr. Kane before.”
Guiding Ernie back to the bench, Bill replied, “Yes, well, some things have changed. Here, have a seat.”
Ernie grinned wildly as he slumped onto the bench, the boards creaking under his bulk. “Lucas, Chi, did you see that? That was crazy, dude. Bill’s an animal! Oh, sorry, Mr. Kane, is it okay if…”
“Of course, Ernesto. Please call me Bill. Now, we have two more stops before winging our way toward the US, and I haven’t discussed this with Lucas or Ms. Kim, but I don’t think they would object. Your strength and your… how shall I put it… your joie de vivre, would be a significant asset for us. How would you like to come along with us?”
Ernie, wide-eyed and red faced, said, “No way, dude. Do you mean it? You’re not jacking me around?” And then, for the second time since I have known him, he burst into tears.
Bill glanced over at Cheri and me, and we were both nodding our heads. I have to admit I felt a little… emotional too, I guess. I
thought Ernie and I were becoming friends, but then he went crazy… maybe we really were becoming friends, and he just couldn’t help himself… they brainwashed him or something…
“As far as I can tell, his emotions are genuine. Let’s watch him, just to be safe, but I think he’s okay, and Billy’s right, this guy could be an enormous help. He’s pretty bulky, though… we need to make sure the jet can take all the weight we’re bringing along.”
“Well, it seems we’re all in agreement. What do you say, Ernesto?” asked Bill, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
“Wh.. what do I s-s-s-say? I say hells yes!” Ernie cried, and Cheri clapped her hands, one real and one artificial.
“Then let’s carry on, shall we? This is shaping up to be quite an adventure!” said Bill, rising from his seat and heading for the imposing metal door of the Bright Hand jail.
18
DIRECTOR’S NOTES
MEETING WITH SVC
121952 15:49
-Well? What’s the status?
-Our source in the Bright Hand Communications and Logistics Center has activated protocol seventeen-B. The security resources are in motion to the entrance to (WK)’s office, and will take him into custody there.
-Okay, but what about the boy? They’re together, aren’t they? If he interceded for (WK) I don’t think we could stop him without killing him, could we?
-You’ll be happy to know I thought of that. I have provided the security with a cover story: they are to use a flechette on (WK) and advise the boy they are taking him into custody because he was plotting with the Americans to help them capture him. There are some other details, but those are the broad strokes, and I know how you like those.
-What are you trying to say, that I’m not a detail person? How dare you, umm, what was your name again?
-…
-See, a sense of humor, (SVC). It’s serious business. You’ll forward me the details?
-Of course, it’s already done.
-That a boy. Hey, you don’t think… there’s no chance that (WK) would try to go to the US with the boy, is there?
-I don’t see how that would happen. The boy doesn’t trust him at all, and I don’t see (WK) as being in a hurry to get himself killed. It’s much more likely that he has the boy with him on this ‘good-will tour’ just to build positive impressions on the Bright Handers.
-See, you did it again with the ‘air quotes’ thing.
-Old habits die hard, I suppose. We are also installing a cover story for the Bright Handers who we will move to New Zealand. Care for the broad strokes on that?
-Let me guess. The Americans are coming, they’ll be here soon, we have to get you out to keep you safe, yadda yadda. It’s all part of protocol forty one P, right?
-Precisely. To mangle the saying, though, the devil is in the yadda yaddas.
-Ha! See, there is a sense of humor in there somewhere. One more day, (SVC). It’s so close I can taste it. Speaking of tasting…
****
A s we sped via Bernie’s electric cart toward the Bright Hand Communication and Logistics Center, Ernie leaned in close and put his meaty arm around my shoulder. “Hey, I don’t know why you guys decided to trust me, but… I just wanted to tell you all that stuff I did… I did it because they told me if I did they’d get me back home. They… the CIA, FBI, whoever it was, was forcing me to stay and work as a spy… I told them I wanted out, but they said the only way out was to do all that junk. When I was yelling all that stuff about… ‘I’m the future, not you!’ and crap like that, they told me to say all that to kind of throw you off, get you mad so you would make a mistake, but you didn’t. You… you stayed cool, and… I don’t know, I guess I just wish I could do that. Anyway, what I mean is, you can trust me, I promise. I’m sorry for all that stuff I did, and especially for taking off with… what was his name?”
“Benji.”
“Oh, yeah. He was totally cool, and I felt crappy for tying him up and stuff, and the super-pretty girl…”
“Tarni.”
“Yeah, I mean, how hot is she, right? Anyway, it was not cool to do all that, I mean I was a real douche bag… I promise, I’ll pay them back, somehow. And you, too. Promise, okay?”
Ernie’s eyes were watery, and he seemed ready to cry again. “It’s okay. I was pretty mad at you for doing all that stuff, but it didn’t seem like you; it felt like someone was making you do it, like you said. When we’re done with our mission at Area 51, we’ll get you home.”
“Yeah… that would be sweet, but… I don’t know, man, I have this feeling like something’s gonna happen… what I mean is, if I don’t make it home, don’t worry, it’s not your fault. It was just stupid decisions I made along the way that put me in this mess, so… anyway, thanks, okay?”
And then he did wipe away a few tears.
We skidded around a corner and slid to a stop in front of the Communications and Logistics Center, and Cheri put her hand to the door pad so I could go into the tiny entry room; as soon as the door closed behind me, the invisible door to the left of the entrance slid open to reveal the hall-shaped secret room, and Zoey Perez was waiting inside, lying on her back across several folding chairs. For the prettiest woman I have ever seen, she looked terrible. Her normally shining golden hair was a frizzed out mess, the skin below her eyes was so dark it looked like someone had punched her, and there was even a little stream of drool on her cheek. “Oh, hello, Lucas, I was just taking a quick rest while I waited for you. Do you have the quantum communicator?”
“Hi, yeah, here it is,” I said, snatching it out of my pocket.
She giggled as she examined it. “A Blackberry? That’s hilarious. Who said scientists don’t have a sense of humor? Help me up, would you?”
Wow… she’s so exhausted she can’t even get up…
I took her hand, and she wobbled up to a sitting position. “So, how does it work? Do you just type on the keyboard?”
“Yeah, just like texting. Ava says she has a plan to use it where… well, she didn’t say, but probably we’ll put the other one in my body somewhere and she’ll work out a way to type out messages.”
“We will put it in your upper arm, sonny boy. It’ll be out of the way of your other weapons there, but we must be careful about the EMP generator unit in your left hand. I’ll have to provide extra shielding for the QC when we use the EMP, and it won’t be able to send or receive until I remove the additional protection.”
Zoey stared into my eyes for what seemed like a long time, and when she spoke, her voice was quivering just a bit. “Lucas, this has to work. John… your dad… he can’t hold out forever. I hate to say it, but… who knows what the Americans are doing to him to get him to tell them his secrets… your secrets. I think you’ve probably realized by now that we… I have a personal interest in this too. I would ask you to take me with you if I thought it would help, but the second I set foot in the US the clock would start running… I’d eventually get recognized, and they’d be more than happy to snatch up a ‘traitor’ like me. Then I wouldn’t be any good to anyone. It’s better if I stay here; at least I can help by staying on top of information that could be helpful to you.”
She smiled but didn’t look happy at all, which seemed strange, and put her hand on my cheek. “You look like him, you know. Not identical, but the connection is obvious. I’m sorry this has all been put on you. It’s not fair and it’s not right, but we don’t get to pick our challenges, we just have to deal with them. So, even though I’m sorry, I’m glad it’s you. No one else could do it, but you can. Oh, I just got pinged, so I’d better get back inside. I’ll get you every bit of info I can. Good luck, Lucas.” We both stood, and then she did something really weird: she kissed me on the forehead.
I exited the secret room, then out of the Communications and Logistics Center, and for a few seconds I couldn’t quite understand what I was seeing: Bill was in the driver’s seat of the electric cart, Ernie was standing next to the cart with his foo
t on an unconscious Bernie’s neck, and Cheri was picking what looked like miniature cactus needles out of her synthetic arm.
Bill looked up at me, his smile still in place. “Come along quickly, Lucas. It appears we have a bit of a problem.”
19
DIRECTOR’S NOTES
MEETING WITH SVC
121952 15:58
-(SVC) Slow down. Repeat everything after ‘location’.
-(Unknown speaker) *Unintelligible*
-(SVC) Again, repeat everything after ‘location’.
-(Unknown speaker) I said *Unintelligible* currently unknown. One man down, *Unintelligible* cart missing.
-(SVC) Sorry, Director, the signal is weak for some reason. Working on recalibrating.
-Is he saying they can’t find them?
-(SVC) That is how it appears. Why aren’t we getting any video on this feed?
-(Unknown speaker) *Unintelligible* Communications Center. Scrambling to there now. Bloody *Unintelligible* speaking to the Communications director now. We’ll see if we can get this sorted.
-Don’t see, do it! This is urgent!
-(SVC) He can’t hear you, Director. We’re down to one link.
Reassemble (Singular Book 4) Page 11
