The Son of Man

by CW Johnson

  “Yeah, how did your group come to possess the Rothenberg sample in the first place?”

  “It was the church originally,” Blaze said, “very hush hush. The Vatican wanted a second look at some of the most prominent medieval relics; try to parry another bones of Rouen.”

  “Bones of Rouen?”

  Blaze dropped the magazine back atop the table and leaned back into the couch. “As you know, Joan of Arc was burned at the stake. She was killed in a town called Rouen. Some bones were said to have been recovered. Scientists, around the turn of the 20th century, declared it highly probable that the remains were hers. The church unofficially backed them up. About that time she was beatified.”

  “I take it the bones weren’t hers,” Jim said, lifting the bottle to his mouth.

  “Egyptian mummy it turns out. At any rate, the Vatican doesn’t want a re-play.

  “And that’s how the Rothenberg sample came to light?” Jim asked.

  “Exactly,” Blaze said. “When we actually found blood tissue within the capsule the powers decided to try and match samples with the shroud of Turin, kill two birds, and that’s where I came in. I'm a cellular biologist. I recognized the astounding opportunity the moment I became aware of it and with the help of my Catholic colleagues became a priest. These were the hoops I had to jump through to make myself the logical choice to head up the project. I admit it was a little underhanded but it provided the necessary resources to get the job done. ”

  “But, I thought you said the Vatican wasn’t involved,” Jim said.

  “Well, they…we… were, up to this point, but when the implications were made clear, especially in the light of your work, the Pope put a stop to any further desecration."

  “Desecration?”

  “That’s how the Pope sees it, I’m afraid.”

  “But you’re going ahead anyway?”

  Blaze shrugged. “It opened a window that couldn't be ignored.

  “How did you manage to get the samples out?” Jim said.

  “Oh, well,” Blaze said smiling, “that was easier than you would imagine. As I said, I was heading up the project. Not long after we started the matching process the Vatican, out of the blue, demanded a full reckoning of the samples, which, of course, was the writing on the wall.”

  “And you provided them with a full reckoning? Jim asked.

  Of course, Blaze said. “They received back their full measure of blood, right down to the molecule. It’s just that, some of those molecules were mine.”

  “You dog!” Jim yelled laughing. “Aren’t you afraid they might test the samples?”

  “Why would they?” Blaze said. “They plan on shelving them anyway.”

  Jim sat thoughtfully rolling the beer bottle in his hand. “How did Maria become involved?” he said finally.

  Blaze looked up and grinned. “You’ve got a little thing for her, don’t you?"

  “No,” Jim said laughing. “Well, maybe just a little. I can’t help it. My God man, you see how beautiful she is. I don’t know how any man could cross paths with her and not be affected. How that kid Todd managed to reel her in is beyond me. She could have anyone.”

  “You’re right about that,” Blaze said. Up until recently she was Jesse Espinosa’s live in.”

  “That’s where I’ve seen her!” Jim hollered. “She was always there, in every paparazzi shot, always under his arm. They even talked about her a time or two. So… what’s the deal with Todd?”

  Blaze sighed and leaned forward. He retrieved his beer bottle from the coffee table. “I should tell you,” he said thoughtfully, “Maria is far from my choice in candidates. And there were plenty let me tell you.”

  “Yeah, I sort of sensed that.”

  “She’s conniving,” Blaze said. “She’s conniving and collusive. She’s gulled everyone…Todd included. You should thank God you’re not in her sites.”

  “Maria?” Jim said, surprised. He looked into his beer bottle for a time. “I guess she struck me as confident, maybe purposeful, but I never took her as conniving. You sound convinced though so why is she the candidate?”

  “I was overruled. She’s formidable let me tell you. She could charm flies off dung.”

  “So you’re questioning her motives? Is that it?”

  “That’s the point,” Blaze said, “I haven’t a clue what her motive is. I just know she has one.”

  “What about her family?” Jim said. “Wouldn’t a background check—”

  “She has no family to speak of. Most of her family was killed by the Nazis during the war. Her parents died when she was six years old. She grew up on Long Island; an orphan.”

  “I hate to say this,” Jim said, “but I’m surprised a little girl that pretty wouldn’t have been adopted early on.”

  “There were several attempts but nothing ever materialized. She had three foster families, but there were issues.”

  “Maybe she just wants a family… roots.”

  “Maybe,” Blaze said, placing his empty beer bottle on the coffee table, “but I don’t think so. She’s obviously perfectly viable, reproductively. Surely there would be easier ways of putting together a family. At any rate, she seems to be in the driver’s seat. All we can do is hang on and see where she takes us. Maybe if she trips up badly enough the Vinces will finally step in.”

  ~~~

  “Aren’t you Dr. Victor Perez?”

  A woman sat next to him in first class.

  “Yes I am,” Perez said, a little embarrassed. He never was very comfortable with strangers, especially pretty women.

  “You don’t know me, but I know you. My name is Holly. You helped my sister have a baby.”

  “Really? What’s your sister’s name?”

  “Excuse me?” Holly poked the man in front of her, ignoring Perez's question “Is that a camera?”

  The man sitting in front of her glanced down at the camera in his lap. “Yeah,”

  “Please, take a picture of us. This is the famous Dr. Victor Perez.”

  The man sitting in front didn’t appear to be impressed but turned to take the picture anyway. Holly pressed herself into Perez. He blushed just as the snapshot was taken. “Take another one,” she said.

  Perez leaned away and adjusted his glasses “Uh… really, I was just about to--”

  Holly pushed forward and kissed him on the cheek just as the flash went off.

  Perez elbowed her away. “Would you excuse me? I’m trying to read here.”

  Holly grinned. “I’m sorry, it’s just that girls like me don’t meet famous, handsome doctors like you every day.”

  Perez blushed and pushed himself deep into his seat. He decided to try to be invisible for the rest of the flight.

  He had left Nashville and was flying to Dallas/Fort Worth via a short layover in Atlanta. As the flight droned towards Atlanta, Holly had insisted on keeping up an uninteresting conversation and Perez had tried his best to keep his answers short and uncommitted.

  When they finally touched down, she had insisted on two more snapshots in the waiting area.

  Perez quickly moved to the lounge in an effort to lose her. He sat at the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. The bartender moved away and returned.

  “See that pretty lady over there?” he said, pushing the drink towards Perez, “She wants this one to be on her.” He grinned and winked.

  Perez turned. Holly was sitting in a darkened booth on the far side of the lounge. She smiled and waved. He stood and briskly walked to the table where the grinning Holly sat waiting. “I don’t know what it is you’re after, but I’m getting a little tired of your intrusive behavior. I’m a married man. I think I already told you that, a number of times.”

  “Excuse me,” she said, “are you talking to me? Don’t flatter yourself, Doctor. I’m just trying to be friendly!” She scooted out of the booth and quickly walked away.

  Perez found himself feeling unpleasant. It had been so long since anyone other than Hillary had shown any int
erest in him he didn’t even know how to respond. He hated thinking he may have hurt Holly’s feelings. After a few more drinks he decided to forget about it. There was little he could do about it now anyway. He made his way back to the jet way and re-boarded the plane, requested a pillow and went to sleep.

  Once he arrived in Dallas, he rented a car and drove to the Fairmont Hotel. He arose early the next morning and called the front desk for coffee, a copy of the Wall Street Journal and Newsweek.

  The news was of the asteroid—how the asteroid had affected world and local markets, general public health and stress levels. There was a report on the effect the asteroid had on schoolchildren, what to tell them and what not to tell them. There was even an article about the effect the asteroid was having on human sexuality.

  He came across an article that made him smile. The asteroid had finally been given a name. It had been a long tradition to name a newly discovered interplanetary object after the person who first observed it. The first sky watcher to have noticed this asteroid was an amateur astrologer living in Iowa named Donald P Jolly. Apparently, the powers that be decided against naming the doomsday planet killer the Jolly asteroid, for obvious reasons. They did agree, however, to include Mr. Jolly’s telescope I.N. Number 657.

  The powers decided to call the asteroid “Hell657” and for PR reasons gave the coming desperate plight to save the planet from a catastrophic end a flashy code name: “Operation Hell’s Shield.” But that name offended the easily offended so they changed the name to Dante657, codenamed Operation Dante’s Shield.”

  He smiled and put the paper down just as the front desk attendant knocked at the door.

  “Dr. Perez,” the young man said with a distinct Texas drawl, “the missus is down in the lobby…and she is causing a major ruckus. Could you come down there?”

  “Who is causing a ruck…a disturbance?”

  “Your wife sir. She’s had a little too much to drink. She’s just now gettin’ in.”

  “There’s been a mistake,” Perez said. “My wife isn’t here.”

  “Well, somebody is anxious to see you, sir. Would you please come down to the front desk, just to find out what’s goin’ on if nothin’ else? Or should we just send her up here?”

  Perez motioned that he’d be right down.

  Ten minutes later he appeared at the front desk. He was about to approach the desk attendant when someone accosted him from behind.

  “Victor, where have you been? You were supposed to meet me at my room. I’ve been waiting there all night.”

  Perez turned. Holly was moving towards him wearing a sheer negligee, obviously drunk. Perez pushed her away. She backed off and fell on him again.

  “Come on, let’s go. I’m gonna’ be sick.”

  “Get away from me, woman!” Perez bellowed, pushing her away again. He looked around the room at the eyes. “I don’t know this woman. Call the police…sanitarium… whatever, but get her away from me!”

  “That’s it,” Holly said, “I’m telling your wife!”

  Perez turned and quickly walked back towards the elevator. “This is a nightmare!”

  “I’m telling your wife!” Holly wailed once more as the elevator door closed.

  ~~~

  The moment Perez left the lobby, Holly whirled and staggered to the door. “I’m telling your wife,” she muttered as she left the building. She turned and walked east half a block to where a car was waiting, opened the door and slid in the passenger side. “Did you get it?” she asked. The man who had sat in front of her and Perez in first class, turned to face her. He patted the digital zoom camera.

  “Got it.”

  ~~~

  It took Perez half an hour to calm down. Was there any way this crazy woman could reach Hillary, he wondered? He thought about calling his wife, but she wasn’t supposed to know anything about this. As far as she knew, he was at a convention in Philadelphia. She was to never know about his involvement with Santana. Santana had made it perfectly clear, if it came out, if she had any idea, the deal would automatically be null and void.

  It took him another hour to dress and make his way to the lobby.

  He looked around the room, expecting Holly to leap out of the shadows, but everything appeared normal. He moved through the lobby and quickly made the short trip to his car—still, no Holly.

  Once he was safely on the highway, he decided Holly was probably not a threat to him. It was obvious she was just a nut case; probably picked up and returned to the sanitarium that very morning.

  It takes all kinds, he said to himself as he made his way towards the small town of McKinney, about twenty miles north of Dallas.

  Santana’s people had contacted him. They wanted a meeting. Perez wondered if they wanted to back out. The truth be known, he’d often wondered if the rewards were worth the considerable risks, especially in light of recent events. Still, he came all the way to Dallas, Texas.

  He spotted the Salt Grass Steakhouse and quickly turned into the parking lot. He made his way towards the back of the building, parked the car and turned on the radio one more time for an asteroid update. Finally he stepped out, made his way back towards the entrance and into the restaurant.

  Once inside, it wasn’t hard to spot Santana. He was sitting in the back by himself, all three hundred pounds of him, completely absorbed in the task of eating. Perez could have sworn the man had grown fatter since they last talked on the airplane. Santana spotted Perez and waved him over.

  “Sorry,” he said, as Perez approached, “I went ahead and ate. I was starving.”

  Perez took his seat. “That’s quite alright.”

  “Did you park in the back?” Santana said.

  “I did exactly as I was told.” Perez looked around the crowded restaurant. “Lovely place, I’m especially keen on the decapitated animals mounted on the walls.”

  Santana laughed. “It’s good food, noisy, out of the way and off the path.”

  “Point taken,” Perez said, poking at his glasses.

  The waitress appeared and Perez ordered a salad.

  ~~~

  Holly studied the computer monitor “That’s amazing. That looks just like we’re a happy couple at a motel.”

  “Yeah,” the man who was sitting in front of her and Perez in first class said, “I have a bunch of them.” He scrolled through the individual pictures one by one.

  She laughed. “Look, that’s one taken on the plane. I’m kissing him and look, he looks just like he’s smiling.”

  “It’s amazing what you can do with the latest digital software,” the man said. “The trick is to catch it just right, try to keep constant pixel and color balance, even the experts can’t tell if you’re good enough.”

  “These are perfect,” she said. “You’re the best.”

  ~~~

  Watching Santana eat, Perez could only wonder how he could have possibly had the wherewithal to become one of the world’s wealthiest men.

  “That’s all you’re gonna’ eat?” Santana said, launching bits of food into the air.

  “Yes well…I’m not very—”

  “Everything alright?” Santana said. “Going as planned?”

  “The Rose fetus is coming along nicely.”

  “And the other one?” Santana said without looking up.

  Perez looked around the restaurant in case someone was listening. “That fetus is progressing nicely as well.”

  “Great.” Santana said. “So are you…” he was moving his hand in a rotating motion apparently searching for the right word, “finished?”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Have you done all that you can do? Are you still actively involved with these two pregnancies?”

  “Oh no,” Perez said. “At this point, they’re both in the care of their respective gynecologists. The fertilization process is comple-”

  “So now,” Santana said interrupted again, “Stalder is the guy in charge of our pregnancy, is that right?”

  “Yes, I
suppose he is—”

  “Good, well, you’ve done a great job, doctor. It’s been wonderful doing business with you.” Santana stood and pushed out his hand.

  “That’s it?” Perez said. “This is the reason I came all the way to Dallas?”

  Santana pulled back his unshaken hand. “Well ya’ know, you can’t be too careful. We can’t be seen together. You know that don’t you?”

  “Of course I know that!” Perez yelled.

  Santana sat back down and continued eating.

  Perez quickly scanned the restaurant. “About our financial agreement—”

  “We’ll be in touch,” Santana said. “Thanks for your help.”

  Perez turned away and quickly left the restaurant. By the time he reached his car he was furious. All those years of med school and residency and that fat little creature dismisses him as if he were a temporary office worker. He was beginning to wish he had never become involved. There was absolutely no appreciation for what he’d done. He was the one taking all the chances. He was the one who had managed to acquire several of Maria’s embryos, whisk them out right under the noses of the Vinces. It was brilliant. They should be kissing his shoes. Instead he gets—dismissed. No. No amount of money was worth it.

  He sped out of the parking lot vowing to never get caught up in anything like this again. Steadily moving south, towards Dallas, he began to settle down. He had learned in his disciplined life to quickly dismiss unwanted distractions. He had decided this entire trip was nothing but a distraction and not worth the expended energy. He wondered what was going on with the asteroid.

  As he reached for the radio, he didn’t notice the eighteen-wheeler edging up on him from behind. Before he had a chance to react, the semi-truck clipped his rear bumper just to the right of center. An expertly maneuvered flick of the truck driver’s wheel sent the tiny car careening into the brush-covered center divider. It bottomed out as it blasted through the low point in the center and flew up the other side. The embankment shot him into the air like a ramp, straight into the path of an oncoming Kenworth.

  At the point of impact, the car’s airbag exploded in Perez’s face. The steering wheel rammed through the airbag and into Perez’s upper chest. The engine followed, enveloping, crushing and rolling his lower torso into the floorboard. The dashboard followed the windshield in an upward movement, catching him directly in the neck and lower jaw. As it passed through it separated his head, right shoulder and arm from the rest of his body and deposited them deep into the back seat.