“And your parents approved?”
“Papa always did. Mother hated your Dad, so in fairness that really shouldn’t count. But never forget that I live in America, was enrolled in private schools all my life, went to college and traveled the world all because of your Dad. All he has ever done was love me, guide me and support me. I learned things I didn’t think I could do because he made me learn them. And he made me believe in myself and grow into becoming the most confidant woman on the planet. He spent a lot of time with me growing up because he saw something and believed in something I was too young to understand.”
“You were lucky then. It wasn’t like that for me.”
“You didn’t have an ex-con father and deeply depressed and highly anxious mother to contend with and no siblings to conspire with and protect you. Without your Dad, my childhood might have been a major train wreck. But it wasn’t and now I’m standing here next to the boy I have always loved and he’s the son of the man I honestly think of as my other father. And if you discover at some time in the future that you love me too, then you’ll have to bite the bullet and say thanks to your papa because without him, we would both be somewhere else.”
“I’m glad I know this now, but you’ll have to give me some time to absorb the “good Edward” stuff. Dad was always hard on me growing up and all we ever do now is fight. I don’t see him through the lens he gave you. Mine was a more difficult route.”
“And you had your Mom and Rod, and Pops and Cindy. Doesn’t seem all that awful.”
“It wasn’t. And I don’t mean to make it sound as if I had some sort of inner city hard knock life. I didn’t. It was great, and I got to do all sorts of things. I wasn’t unhappy.”
“Then what’s the problem?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did. But I can’t help the way I feel even if the reason for it eludes me.”
“I think you need special therapy. Misti therapy.”
Adam smiled, “Does it cure all what ails?”
“Indeed, it does. And then there’s really, really great sex.”
“I don’t know. Can I afford you? Therapy costs a lot these days you know.”
“You can afford me if I want. Otherwise, no way.”
Chapter 37
Enzo Fortizi and Demitri Asinamayov, the Head Tracker and Captain General of the Gens Collective in mainland America, arrived early and separately at the factory in New Jersey. Enzo had come of his own accord, reporting for work on time and as usual. On the seat of his overlarge desk chair was an envelope, sealed in ancient Gens fashion and written in the Common Tongue. The message was brief and simply asked Enzo to drop by Paulo’s office at 10:00 am for a meeting with Demitri and a few other notables from the tech world within BioGen International.
Demitri was a more recent Russian émigré to America, largely made possible by the fall of the Wall and the collapse of communism in the early 90’s. With the breakdown and re-orientation of the former intelligence agency, the KGB, now the FSB, and with the agreement with the CIA to “forgive and forget” past indiscretions, many former Russian spies could now travel routinely to the US for business or pleasure.
Demitri had been and still was a Gens leader of high standing for his outstanding work among the humans and for his uncanny ability to know and understand the way international security services worked. His analysis and response to certain external events and actions were reliable predictors of human behaviors and his counsel was much sought.
The Gens had long made a practice of infiltration into numerous aspects of human business and commercial activity as well as civil society. The Gens hierarchy thought this to be the best defense to what they considered the likelihood of eventual discovery by humankind one day. What they craved was secrecy and anonymity above all other matters; for protection they would have to maintain a large network of spies that would inculcate themselves into every aspect of the human dimension. Knowledge, they agreed, was power and they had no intention of being blindsided by humans when infiltration into their institutions had become so easy.
Those tasked with watching the humans in general and those who were most troublesome, chose to become “Trackers”. Trackers might have specific human “target” responsibilities and report on each target’s research and work, academic and political influence as well as any law enforcement aspects of any interest. Trackers could be thought of as police or military personnel, combined with a modest infusion of Mafia enforcer.
Only when a target became troublesome in one of several specific ways did the Gens hierarchy feel the need to occasionally eliminate a human annoyance for attracting too much unwanted attention.
The Gens Captains class was simply the elite formal leadership of the Tracker class. The Trackers were labor and the Captains were management.
The Gens warrior class was entirely different strata in the Gens Collective from the Tracker and Captains classes and were frequently inserted into law enforcement in the largest cities, national police organizations, the international security services, political organizations, national governments and educational institutions around the world. The best way, the Gens Collective reasoned, to know what danger they may be in, and from which direction it might come, was to be a part of the human establishment. From the inside they could watch closely and carefully what these noxious creatures were up to.
This, in effect, was Demitri’s job.
The leadership of the Gens Collective now focused the lion’s share of their time, personnel, money and energy on science, technology and intelligence gathering.
Science, because the Gens had numerous “little science projects”, as Paulo called them. The hierarchy of the Gens Collective had invested heavily over the past fifty years into the growth of modern science. Relevant education in the biological sciences, genetics, chemistry and related scientific fields were viewed as essential to develop new drugs, therapies and other offensive and defensive organic and inorganic “tools” for future use.
In the coming war.
Technology, because this was the most efficient way to maintain the broadest understanding of the risks the humans presented to the Gens Collective globally. It allowed rapid access to critical information as well as the ability to keep track of human developments globally. In addition, technology permitted the fastest means of communication allowing for advance preparation, both offensively and defensively, on a global scale. Technology was also employed to maintain their secrecy and their secrets.
One day, it might allow them to develop a sustainable and effective offensive war capability.
Intelligence, because forewarned is forearmed. Knowing what the humans were doing or about to do might give the Gens the opportunity to misdirect or alter the course of human conduct.
These three pillars, in simple or complex formulations, had been a successful foundation for the preservation of their species and the continuing basis for security moving into the new and rapidly developing age of science and technology.
Therein, of course, lay the rub. The very things that advanced and protected the Gens Collective moving forward were the very things that could ultimately be used against them and hasten the pace of their potential demise.
To Paulo, who now believed that the tipping point had already been reached, an article appearing in the obscure Journal of Ancient Migration, was case in point. As the Gens closed in on the completion of projects and programs that could one day save their species from mass extinction, the one matter that superseded all others in terms of immediacy and importance was maintenance of absolute secrecy and the concealment of their species, their projects and their future plans.
Discovery, at this juncture, was simply premature. They needed time to leverage and complete their work in the biological sciences and, for that, they needed time. A few years, maybe, but more time. And time as an endless supply of secrecy within which to work and be safely cocooned was beginning to evaporate and evaporate rapidly.
In that spirit, Paulo convened a meeting of eight Gens luminaries. Along with Paulo, Enzo and Demitri were the five top technology and science minds in charge of research and development worldwide. All were seated comfortably in the secure conference room when Enzo, Demitri and Paulo entered the room together.
Paulo wasted no time launching right into his reasons for the hastily called meeting.
“I assume you have all read the article in the Journal that I sent you. Have you all had time to read it?”
All heads in the room nodded in the affirmative, each understanding that Paulo, when commanding a task, wasn’t one to be ignored. Of course, they had all read what they considered to be a waste of time and irrelevant article. Why were they in Princeton and not back home working on meaningful research instead of this Fortizi nonsense?
“How many of you view this article as significant? In other words, does this article suggest or present any new risks to the Gens Collective? Show of hands for ‘no’.”
All hands shot in the air except Enzo, Demitri and one of the scientists. Paulo wasn’t surprised, as he doubted that any of these science and technology leaders read the reports he periodically sent to them covering all known aspects of plausible risk factors coming to the attention of the Gens leadership. Elders and all important technical and scientific leaders were required to be well versed on every project undertaken at the Great Council level, something the technical and science types routinely ignored.
“How many say ‘yes’?” That number stood at three. “OK. As I suspected, you folks haven’t been reading and following our security directives, at least not very closely. This article, which I found because I looked for it, should frighten each and every one of you. We are at risk and that threat level has now become quite high. And not even one of you, except Enzo and Demitri, were intelligent enough to connect the dots. I’m not, unfortunately, shocked by this; not in the least.”
One of the assembled few, a middle-aged Gens from Germany, responded hotly, “You fucking arrogant pup! We are not all like you, Paulo, nor do we have your spare time, sources or resources. We do our jobs, to the best of our ability and achieve the results that you and the Council ask from us. That we may not be as ‘capable’ as you, or as smart or clever as you seem to think you are, should not be the point. Any one of us could as easily bring up some obscure fact from our research and ask you what it means. And you wouldn’t be able to answer us either because it isn’t your subject matter. You are not responsible. I find this whole meeting, your tone and this incessant childish lecturing of us to be insulting.”
“Perhaps you’d like to exercise your Primal Right?” asked Enzo. Primal Right was the Gens challenge to leadership and was fought to the death when in full primitive, natural state. It was only rarely threatened, as the challenge was most serious.
Demitri sat quietly and listened. He was Russian and tough as they came. Some said he was mental, but that seemed to Paulo as more of a job qualification than a disqualifier. But even he wanted no part of Paulo and his psycho brother.
“You think I wouldn’t? I have no fear of either you or Paulo Fortizi or your Clan, so yes if you want a fight, a fight you shall have. The Merkel Clan is always ready to assume leadership. I can’t see how the Fortizi Clan has made us any safer, kept our secrets any better or moved our projects and plans along any faster than before. So, what more do you have to share with us today, other than your Clan foolishly appointed Tomas di Gensarii as Chief Librarian and that his appointment led to the untimely loss of our Library to the humans? Have you and your leadership team resolved any of this mess? Why is this suddenly ‘our’ problem?”
Enzo was visibly upset by the naked challenge to the authority of the Fortizi as the ruling Clan. “Paulo would never even consider responding to such a weak and pathetic challenge such as the merda I just heard. However, I am not Paulo. We can terminate this conference right here and now in preparation for you to take up the challenge I think you just made. Did I rightly hear a challenge?”
The man from Germany was unfazed and apparently unmoved. “You heard what you wanted to hear, I can only assume. I can tell you though, Enzo, that if I have no fear of your brother, then I have even less fear of you. I don’t need to challenge anybody as a Primal Right. I can challenge you any time in the Right of Dominance. Then I will take your woman and all your kin and send them back to the wild and remote places where they belong. Any time, Enzo, any time.”
“Then the Right of Dominance you shall have. I accept your challenge and will begin my transformation immediately. We can meet in any Preserve of your choosing and settle this like Gens. Do you accept?”
“I do.” He replied quietly and civilly.
Both men turned to Paulo, whose approval would be required for any such contest to take place. If he nodded in the affirmative, then a fight to the death or submission would be held after transformation according to the rules set forth in the Code of Strictures. No fight had taken place in this manner in well over five hundred years.
Paulo was in no mood for posturing and the unnecessary display of animus. These were human traits, learned after far too many years of life and interaction among the vermin. He could see the slow but constant drip, drip, drip of human culture as it affected and changed his transformed brethren.
Unknown to all but the deceased Tomas, Paulo had long been in support of the work undertaken by Tomas and for the reasons Tomas undertook them. If the day came that his people were to be no more, then some record of his kind ought to be preserved and added to the historical record somewhere in the Universe. The human historical record, to be sure, but an historical record nonetheless. They couldn’t simply vanish from the face of the earth as if they had never existed.
Paulo looked at both, then around the room. He appreciated that his brother would leap to his defense, and that of the Clan Fortizi.
But then he said, “I am of a mind to let the both of you have your wish. Then perhaps the rest of us can then throw off the chains humanity has carefully constructed around our people to resolve our petty differences. No challenge has taken place in many centuries and cannot take place without the consent of the Great Council and the Leader of the Great Council. The Leader must forward that challenge to the Council if appropriate challengers are found and a basis exists for the Council to permit the challenge to move forward under the Code. I don’t find that those requirements have been met. Instead I instruct you both to immediately submit to my authority and withdraw your challenges.”
There was silence as the two men stared each other down. “I said immediately!” Paulo’s aspect suddenly changed and the bellowing of his commands in the conference room saw the others assembled around the large mahogany table cower in humble submission to his authority.
Instantly the two men bowed in a low and obedient manner, clearly indicating voluntary assent. Every Gens present that day was aware of Paulo’s lethal capability and fighting skills when in natural or transformed state. He was the big alpha Gens in the small pool of extremely vicious alpha Gens and would kill anyone in a sanctioned fight that tested his rule. He had never had to do so; Paulo Fortizi was one crazy fuck and the big dog. Nobody currently wished to fight him, save his own brother.
Paulo was not much of an authoritarian; he was himself subject to the Code of Strictures that had been the governing Law of the Gens Collective for ages untold.
The assembled luminaries resumed their seats.
“Now, to the business of the day,” Paulo said cheerfully. “I have asked Dr. Jeong Seong, leader of the Joseon Clan in Korea, to provide the analysis the rest of you failed to notice. Dr. Jeong had thoughtfully replied to me upon reading the article in the Journal which I sent to him and I am very grateful he did. This is the article I sent to all of you. Now, Dr. Jeong, please take the lead and guide us through the article and what it means or at least what it should mean to the rest of us.”
Dr. Jeong, a rather tall
and slender geneticist from Seoul, South Korea, stood with a handful of memos in his hand. He leaned over the table to pass out a copy to each of the assembled Elders present.
“None of these are to leave this room today.” Dr. Jeong said in perfect but slightly accented English. English had long been adopted by the Collective as their lingua franca of the Gens Nation and each member of any Gens Council was required to be fully literate in English as well as the Common Tongue. But English was the language of business, science and technology, so while their own native language was still commonly used at home in one regional variation or another, the academic study and everyday use of the Common Tongue by young Gens was becoming less widespread as the years rolled by.
Dr. Joseon continued, “Each copy is numbered so I expect each to be returned. Do not photograph or photocopy any of this and don’t discuss its contents with anyone outside this conference room. Are we clear?”
Each nodded, including Enzo and Paulo.
“Then let me tell you the story of Marranos of Spain and why their story matters to the modern Gens Collective of today. Our time has always been short but with the publication of this article, our time may be shorter still.”
Chapter 38
Discovery Page 21
