Isolation

by Kevin Hardman

  “So what now?”

  “Well, I guess we–”

  I was cut off by the sound of my phone ringing. Pulling it out, I saw that it was Alpha Prime calling.

  “Hey,” I said upon answering. “Where are you?”

  “Outside the gate,” he answered.

  “Okay, we’ll be there in a sec,” I stated before hanging up. I then told Electra, “Alpha Prime’s waiting on us. We’ll have to pick this up later.”

  She gave me a nod and I teleported us, taking us just outside the gate of the embassy. As expected, Alpha Prime was there, sitting in the driver’s seat of the SUV. To my surprise, however, there was someone in the front passenger seat as well: Smokey.

  “Oh, man – I’m sorry,” I began apologizing upon seeing him. “I completely forgot–”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Smokey interjected, opening the door and stepping out. “I stayed an extra night like we talked about, hung out all day yesterday, and then Vestibule volunteered to take me home.”

  “And then I found him wandering around the halls of HQ,” my father added. “Didn’t think it would hurt to have an extra pair of hands on deck.”

  I frowned but didn’t immediately comment on my father’s statement, while Smokey and Electra exchanged greetings. Following this, Smokey opened the rear door of the SUV, obviously planning to relinquish the front seat to me.

  “Hey,” I suddenly said to him, “why don’t you keep riding in front?”

  He gave me an odd look, then glanced at Electra. Suddenly a light bulb seemed to come on in his mind.

  “Oh yeah,” he blurted out as he gave the two of us a sly look. “Sure.”

  With that, he quickly got back into the front seat while Electra and I got into the back. A minute later, we were on the road.

  Electra immediately began asking Smokey about his trip to the West Coast. I used the opportunity to open a telepathic channel to my father.

  I asked.

  Alpha Prime shot back.

 

 

  I hated to admit it, but Alpha Prime’s reasoning came across as sound. I stated as much to him and then broke the connection. I spent the next few minutes pondering everything that had happened and was trying to figure out what, if anything, I might have missed when a question from Electra cut across my thoughts.

  Focusing on my father, she asked, “So, where are we going?”

  “DTG,” he replied.

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise, as did Smokey and Electra.

  “DTG?” Smokey repeated. “They’re one of the largest tech companies in the world.”

  “Not just tech,” Alpha Prime corrected. “They’re a huge conglomerate that owns everything from casinos to manufacturing plants.”

  “Yeah, they’re massive,” Electra added. “They’ve got something like a thousand-acre corporate campus just outside the city.”

  “And that’s where we’re headed,” Alpha Prime noted. “After we make one quick stop.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  My father glanced at me via the rearview mirror and winked, saying, “Breakfast, of course.”

  Chapter 41

  Like the day before, we stopped at a fast-food place for breakfast. Personally, I didn’t have nearly the same appetite this time around and thus ordered far less. After we got back on the road and began eating, Electra brought everyone up to speed regarding my theory on Mouse’s bug-out bag.

  After mulling over what Electra had said, my father asked, “So if you don’t think he went far, where’s he most likely to be?”

  The question was seemingly directed to me. I shrugged in response, saying, “I don’t know. If you remember, League HQ was practically razed to the ground last year.”

  No one commented, but it was unlikely anyone had forgotten the prior attack on the Alpha League, which had actually been orchestrated by one of our own.

  “Mouse actually oversaw the reconstruction efforts,” I continued. “He could have had any number of secret rooms or hidden chambers built.”

  “So he could be hiding right under our noses,” Smokey surmised.

  “It might explain how he seems to appear and disappear at leisure,” Alpha Prime added.

  There was further speculation by the other three, but I stayed out of it. I didn’t like the notion of Mouse scurrying around like his namesake, performing sneak attacks on his colleagues, or plotting to take over the world. None of it felt right.

  The others were still bandying about theories when we reached the DTG campus, a boundary marked by a large stone wall on which the corporate name was cast in six-foot-tall metallic lettering. Driving past it, we soon found ourselves on the sprawling grounds of the company, which contained not only stylish, modernized buildings, but also an unexpectedly expansive amount of green space. There was even a waterfall next to an adjoining garden. Simply put, the place was beautiful.

  Eventually we ended up in the parking lot of an interconnected cluster of futuristic-looking buildings, the most notable of which was a structure that was designed to look like a cube floating between two other edifices. My father pulled into a reserved parking spot that was clearly intended for VIPs and turned the engine off.

  “Let’s go,” Alpha Prime said as he opened his door.

  A moment later, we were headed towards the entrance to one of the buildings.

  Once inside, we found ourselves facing a number of speedgates that utilized card readers to allow further access to the building. Next to the speedgates was a security desk, which Alpha Prime began walking towards.

  There were three guards behind the desk, and the nearest one looked up as my father approached. Reaching into his back pocket, Alpha Prime pulled out what looked like a plastic card and handed it to the guard.

  “I need to get in,” he declared. Almost as an afterthought, he hooked his thumb at me, Smokey, and Electra, adding, “They’re with me.”

  There was a scanner of some sort close at hand, and the guard swiped the card in front of it. Almost immediately, a diode on the device flashed red. Frowning, the guard swiped it again, and then a third time. Each attempt, however, produced the same result: a flashing red diode.

  Turning to a nearby keyboard and monitor, the guard hastily typed something that I couldn’t see. Following this, he swiped the card once more, and the diode again flashed red. The guard looked at the monitor for a second, and then looked back at my father.

  “I’m sorry, sir,” he began, “but it looks like your access has been revoked.”

  “Excuse me?” Alpha Prime said, displeasure evident in his tone.

  “Your access,” the guard repeated. “It’s been revoked.”

  “When?” my father demanded. “How?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not privy to that information,” the guard replied.

  My father simply glowered at him for a moment. Even in civvies and without anyone knowing who he was, Alpha Prime could be incredibly intimidating. As evidence of this, all three guards were now watching him warily, and two of them had their hands on the butts of their respective weapons.

  Without warning, my father turned and began angrily marching towards the exit. We followed him without needing to be told.

  Once outside, Alpha Prime let out a groan of frustration.

  “Okay, change of plan,” he announced suddenly. “S
mokey, you and Electra stay with the car.”

  As he spoke, he pulled the car keys from his pocket and tossed them to Smokey.

  “Will do,” Smokey intoned.

  “Jim, come with me,” my father said, then went soaring up into the air.

  I flew up after him, and it took me almost no time to realize where we were headed: the top floor of the floating cube building. Once there, we hovered for a few seconds outside the window, which was made of reflective glass. For a moment, I simply watched our reflections – the two of us, father and son, suspended in the air – and couldn’t help but feel that we made an impressive sight.

  “Jim, take us inside,” Alpha Prime said.

  I phased one of the window panes, making it insubstantial, and flew through it into the building, with my father right behind me. I made the window solid again and then looked around.

  We were in a posh, executive office that was at least two thousand square feet in size. Based on casual observation, little had been spared in the way of expense, as evidenced by a sitting area filled with leather furniture, hardwood floors, and built-in, floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. In addition, the walls held several paintings that I assumed to be high-priced, and in one corner stood a piece of avant-garde art that looked somewhat like a man sculpted from metal.

  Sitting behind a huge executive desk and talking on the telephone was a young man – probably in his mid-twenties – who looked somewhat familiar to me. Alpha Prime began walking towards him, and I followed.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna have to call you back,” the man said casually into the phone as we approached. Hanging up, his eyes went back and forth between me and Alpha Prime before settling on my father, at which point he stated, “You don’t have an appointment.”

  “Do I need one, Dave?” my father asked, taking a seat in one of two high-back executive chairs on our side of the desk. Following his lead, I sat in the other.

  “Apparently not,” said Dave. “But then again, the world’s greatest superhero is welcome everywhere he goes.”

  “Almost everywhere,” Alpha Prime corrected. “Seems my access here has been revoked.”

  “Well, that’s a shame,” uttered Dave, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. Looking at me, he asked, “So who’s this?”

  “This is Jim,” my father said. “Jim, this is David Thaddeus Goodson.”

  “Dave Goodson?” I uttered in surprise. “The founder of DTG?”

  No wonder he looked familiar to me. Dave Goodson was a famed tech guru, hailed worldwide as an idealist and visionary. I must have seen him on television or in the newspaper a million times, but he didn’t look quite the same in person.

  “No, not the founder of DTG,” Dave confessed, as he stood up and reached across the desk to shake my hand. “That said, I do run the place.” He looked me up and down for a moment, then added, “So, you’re Jim. My brother Dale talks about you all the time.”

  I was about to ask who his brother was, and then the truth hit me: Mouse’s given name was Dale. His full name, in fact, was Dale Theodore Goodson. Dave was Mouse’s brother! Looking at him with this new information in hand, I could definitely see the family resemblance – another reason he had probably looked familiar. (I also had a feeling that this was Mouse’s corporate connection that Vir had mentioned.)

  “Speaking of your brother,” Alpha Prime chimed in, “have you heard from him lately?”

  Dave shook his head as he sat back down. “No.”

  “Well, it’s imperative that we find him,” my father stressed. “From all indications, he’s been exposed to something exotic and seems to be taking actions that not only threaten the Alpha League but possibly the world. He’s not himself…practically half-crazed. We really need to find him before he seriously hurts somebody – or worse.”

  Dave seemed to contemplate for a moment. “That’s a tough row to hoe,” he finally said. “Even half-crazed, my brother’s always going to be the smartest guy in the room. I mean, he built this company. I get all the credit, but I’m nothing more than a figurehead. Everything DTG has accomplished is a product of his ingenuity.”

  “But you’re his brother,” Alpha Prime stressed. “Surely you’ve got some notion of where he might be or is likely to go.”

  Dave sighed. “Here’s what I know: my brother is always thinking ten moves ahead. Bearing that in mind, he’s not going to tell me anything you want to know, because he already knows you’ll come see me. Likewise, you aren’t going to find him unless he wants to be found, so if you actually do pick up his trail, that means he’s ready for you.”

  “So what are you saying?” my father asked.

  “That you can’t take my brother on and win,” Dave stated. “With his abilities, no one can. Not you, not the Alpha League, nobody.”

  Alpha Prime frowned. “So your advice is what – to just stand down and get out of his way?”

  Dave shrugged. “That’s what the smart money says.”

  Alpha Prime nodded as he seemed to mentally digest this.

  “If I’m being honest,” he finally said, “that’s not going to fly with the rest of the League. Also, some of them may think you know more than you’re saying.”

  Dave’s brow crinkled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, with the resources of DTG at your disposal,” my father explained, “you could do all kinds of things to help your brother.”

  “In truth, it’s his company,” Dave admitted. “So the resources of DTG are always at his disposal.”

  “True,” Alpha Prime intoned. “All right, we should get out of here.”

  He came to his feet as he spoke, and I followed suit.

  “Thanks for your time, Dave,” my father said, extending a hand.

  “Not a problem,” Dave assured him as they shook hands. “But on a side note, I’m not going to have to worry about any of your colleagues paying me a visit, am I? Maybe trying to see, as you suggest, if I know more than I said?”

  “Pshaw,” Alpha Prime muttered disdainfully. “Come on, man. We’re the Alpha League – we don’t do stuff like that.”

  “Good,” Dave said, “because after this is all over, I’d hate having to explain to my brother how one of his teammates took a shellacking because of me.”

  Alpha Prime laughed. “I didn’t realize you had that kind of muscle.”

  “Maybe I don’t,” Dave admitted. “But he does.”

  As he finished speaking, Dave pointed with his chin towards a corner of the room – the area where the weird metal sculpture was. A second later, I was shocked when the sculpture took a step in our direction.

  Alpha Prime stared at the object, which was seemingly some type of robot, then turned back to Dave.

  “You have Failsafe,” he stated flatly. “Mouse was supposed to decommission that thing.”

  “Well,” Dave droned, “at one point, Mouse picked up some chatter about some people maybe wanting to kidnap me, so he gave it to me for protection. Sort of like a guardian angel.”

  “More like a guardian killer robot,” my father shot back.

  “Anyway,” Dave said, “I’ve enjoyed the visit. Come back any time.”

  “One more thing,” Alpha Prime said. “Why’d you revoke my access?”

  “I didn’t,” Dave replied. “I assume that was my brother’s doing.”

  Chapter 42

  We left Dave’s office the way we’d come in – through a phased window (which I then made solid again).

  “Hold up,” I said to my father as he prepared to drop to the ground. “I’ve got a couple of questions.”

  “And you want to ask them here?” he asked, making an all-encompassing gesture. “We’re a bit on display.”

  He was right, of course. Two people floating in the air as we were did make for something of a spectacle.

  “Up here, then,” I suggested, flying to the roof of the floating cube. My father followed and landed in front of me a second later.

  “Okay, son,” Alpha Prime sa
id. “What’s on your mind?”

  “A couple of things,” I admitted. “First and foremost, what’s Mouse’s power?”

  “His power?” my father echoed.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’ve never asked Mouse about it and he’s never told me, but I’ve heard people reference his power on several occasions, and his brother mentioned it just a few moments ago. It occurs to me that if I’m going to help run him down, I need to know what he can do.”

  My father rubbed his chin for a second before responding. “Mouse has something he calls autogenetic cognizance.”

  My brow wrinkled in confusion. “What’s that?”

  “The way Mouse explains it, you can put any piece of technology in front of him – terrestrial or alien – and he can not only understand it, but improve on it. Basically, he can build a better mousetrap.”

  I blinked, trying to take in what I was hearing and its implications. Now I had a better understanding of why others considered Mouse to have power that rivaled my father’s. If what I was hearing were true, Mouse was way more powerful than he’d ever let on. (And that’s without taking into account his tactical and strategic genius, among other things.)

  “So how’d his brother get into the picture?” I asked.

  “Before Mouse joined the team,” my father replied, “we’d sometimes run into a technical problem we needed help with – for instance, weapons and gadgets from supervillains that we couldn’t figure out. DTG was one of the places we’d turn to on those occasions, and they’d usually find the answer to whatever problem we had.”

  “And that’s how you got to know Dave.”

  “Yeah, but what we didn’t know back then was that if the problem was too thorny for the tech guys on their payroll, they’d hand it over to this specialist who they kept off the books.”

  “Mouse,” I concluded.

  My father nodded. “Eventually, we found out, and – after some initial misunderstandings – Mouse joined the League.”

  “And that robot thing in Dave’s office?”

  “It’s called Failsafe. Mouse designed it to be his personal bodyguard, although it usually stayed out of sight until needed. But trust me, if that thing goes into protective mode, you don’t want to be anywhere around. Mouse was supposed to deactivate it, but I guess he found another use for it instead.”