Red—he saw the color of red—and seizing Allenby by the collar of his tailored suit, proceeded to hurl him from one end of the cavern to another. Once he’d finished tossing his foe around, Harry proceeded to punch the man’s round face until blood poured from his nose and mouth.
It took everything he had in him not to let his claws out and finish off this maniac. The feeling to strike ran through him like wildfire... and then he saw the man’s swollen face. The bastard was smirking. “Go ahead and do it,” Allenby whispered. “You know you want to.”
“Yeah, I do.”
Low and guttural, Harry heard his voice, and to his ears, it sounded like the grunt of an animal just before it killed its prey. “I do, and you know why. You manufactured death. How does it feel to be close to it?”
His claws sprang out and for a brief second, his human and animal sides fought for dominance... but gaining a measure of self-control, he hauled his prey over to a chamber. The increase in power seemed to be too much for the machines, and by now they were now pouring smoke.
Allenby spotted the condition of the machines and began to quiver. “What are you going to do?” His smirk had disappeared. Instead, a look of terror shone out under the film of blood on his face.
“Make you what you hate most.”
Harry tossed him inside a chamber and securely locked the door, dragging a heavy workbench over to block off the entrance. He then inserted the memory stick into the computer, fed in the information that would tie the false transformation process to the chamber, pressed Enter and dialed up the machine to max capacity. “Goodbye.”
Just one word, but it was enough.
“Harry, we have to go!”
Anastasia’s anxious voice cut through the moment of vengeance. Harry turned and ran with his wife to the rapidly ascending elevator. They grabbed onto the underside and hung on for dear life as the first machines began to explode. A chain reaction ensued, and the cavern below them exploded into a ball of fire.
“C’mon, c’mon,” muttered Harry as the elevator made its way to the top.
They reached the surface, clambered over the side, and once out of range, Anastasia grabbed Leo and they made a mad dash for the exit. Their passage to safety came just in time as the mountain caved in and they completed their run to freedom.
Chapter Nine: Homefront
Once back in the USA, Overton debriefed them and decided to go ahead with the message of all clear. “The Spanish authorities have informed me the mission was successful. They searched the ruins and found nothing but rubble. All the machines were destroyed.”
“Did they find any bodies?” Anastasia wanted to know. She was in the kitchen in the middle of devouring an array of sandwiches she’d made. Leo had eaten half of them and now lay snoozing on one end of the couch, his snores adding to the pleasantly quiet quality of the afternoon air.
Harry also wanted to know if things were really so wonderful. Since returning to the cozy confines of home, he’d slept for a solid twelve hours with Anastasia by his side, held her close, and thanked his lucky stars they’d returned safely.
Overton had called him two hours earlier to confirm a debriefing and had shown up with Leo tagging along, like a puppy dog with his master. Istvan remained under heavy guard at headquarters, but things looked peaceful, at least for now.
The agent sat on the other end of the couch, a pensive look on his face. Harry busied himself at the work table, going over equations on his computer while his wife continued to feed her face. Well, she was eating for two, he reasoned.
Tearing himself away from his work—he felt the answer to the riddle of solving the devolution in the transgenics was almost at hand—he swiveled around in his chair. “I’m going to second my wife’s question,” he said. “Did they find Allenby or anyone else?”
“No. They found what was left of the drone-clones... they didn’t find Allenby.”
Well, that was all the evidence needed. “Then I’m not sure it’s a wise thing to say all clear yet.”
Anastasia finished her lunch and walked over to kiss Harry. “Second that opinion. Finding no one’s body means to me that he might still be out there.”
It was a sobering moment, and it cast a pall over an otherwise pleasant reunion. Caution and watchfulness still had to be observed. “We’ll keep looking,” Overton said as he checked his cellphone. Apparently finding nothing, he put it away. “Is there anything else you guys want to talk about?”
Actually, there was. Harry had been thinking about something as of late, the subject of integration. If the Europeans weren’t into acceptance, there had to be a way for North Americans to accept the different. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be worth it, he felt. “We do need to talk about integration.”
A thoughtful look appeared on Overton’s face. “All right, let’s talk about it.”
Perhaps this wasn’t the right person or the best time, but Harry reasoned he had to start somewhere. “We need to bring in some of the other transgenic people, bring them into the fold. They’re out there, and they have no support. What I saw in Italy and France, they’re living in the countryside and have nowhere to go.”
“Hmm...”
“Added to that,” Anastasia chimed in, “if they’re poor and hungry, what’s the first thing they’re going to do?”
Overton exhaled softly. “Steal, I’d imagine.”
He wasn’t so clueless after all, Harry thought. “Yeah, either that or get involved in something more dangerous. It’s not as if they couldn’t do it. Some of them are as strong as we are. If we can show people that we’re not all bad, that we’re not dangerous, there may be a chance for acceptance. I talked with the guys there. That’s all they want, and I’ve got a feeling the transgenics here—if there are any—want the same deal.”
“So what are you proposing?” Overton sounded skeptical. “I’m in law enforcement. While that’s part of the government, the higher-ups may not be willing to extend a helping hand, if you know what I mean. Still,” he scratched his head with his good arm, “I’ll listen.”
Harry quickly outlined his plan. First, put out a call on the Internet for anyone who was transgenic to come in and meet with government officials. Chances were some of the transgenics who’d been hiding in the United States had Internet access and might trust someone who was like them. The officials would then assess them for what they could offer. If all went well, find them places to live, train them if necessary or send them to school. “Not everyone’s going to be well educated, you know.”
Overton didn’t say a word during the presentation, but after ten minutes, he stood up and shook Leo awake. The mole-man sat up, yawned and stretched. He’d devolved even more, almost to the same level as the animal whose genes his had been mixed with. It seemed Leo only had a matter of days before the animal genes overwhelmed his human ones.
The agent walked over to the door and opened up. Leo ambled along behind him. “I’ll put in the calls,” Overton said. “I can’t promise anything, but I do have a few contacts and I’ll see what they turn up.”
He began to walk out, but Anastasia quickly went over and laid her hand on his arm. “Why are you so willing to help us?”
The reply was unexpected, but welcomed. “Because Agent Farrell said you were good people. Because I saw how you risked your lives to do the right thing, and you saved my butt while we were over in Europe. And,” he paused, “because I think you’re decent.”
A rare smile accompanied the compliment. “That was an order directly from Farrell... but it’s one I agree with.”
The door softly closed behind him. Anastasia returned to the couch and sat down. “Do you think anyone will listen to us?”
She sounded doubtful, and who could blame her? Harry recalled the incident with the talk show host. Moreover, he recalled the way the populace had looked at him as well as his wife and small friends. Attitudes didn’t change overnight. Underneath a veneer of humanity, people were really still savages.
With a sigh, he joined her and took her hand in his. “Let’s hope so. How are you feeling, by the way?”
“Maternal.”
It seemed the right answer. She got off the couch and headed for the bedroom. “We had a pretty hectic week. Care to join me in some R&R?”
That was an offer he could not turn down and he took her hand. “I think I can manage.”
Anastasia giggled. “I think you already did.”
Overton contacted them two days later. “All quiet on the Western front. I just got off the line with Interpol as well as the Spanish authorities. Rodriguez is pleased. They’ve detected no movement and have had no incidents so far.”
Harry asked him about France and Italy. “What about their situation... same as usual?”
The reply didn’t surprise him in the least. “It’s the same, but at least the authorities there are trying. We can only do our best on our soil. That’s how it has to be for now.”
“Yeah, I hear you.”
He was about to ask another question, but Overton interrupted to say, “If you’re going to come to Manhattan, then drop by headquarters. I may have some good news for you about the government.”
Harry replaced the receiver and decided to take the agent up on his offer. Anastasia elected to stay behind, pleading a little downtime, and she bestowed a fond kiss on his lips when he told her of his plans, to go see Farrell first, then check with Overton and see what things were like. “I’ll be here. Be careful.”
“I will.”
He could have run to the city in about an hour, but decided to drive instead. Along the way, a few other motorists did double takes when they spotted him, and he took in a few breaths, muttering it was always better to count to five than to be in jail for three to five for smacking someone. Attitudes had to change, but they wouldn’t change overnight.
“When,” he muttered after someone took a picture of him and then gave him the finger. “Just tell me when.”
Arriving at the hospital, he found Lynn in the corridor. She held a plastic water bottle in her hand. “My father isn’t feeling too well right now. He’s in some pain, but I’m glad you’re here. He was asking for you.”
Harry walked inside and found Farrell sitting up in bed. His mentor had grown thinner still, but his eyes were clear. “If you’re going to ask me how I feel,” Farrell grunted, “then don’t.”
“Okay, I won’t ask.”
Farrell squirmed around and let out a heavy sigh. “Overton told me what you’re trying to do vis-à-vis the transgenic crowd. I think it’s a good thing, but he also told me about what happened in Spain. Be careful. If this guy Allenby is as smart as the information says, then he may have a surprise waiting.”
“You don’t think he’s dead?”
“No.”
Farrell asked for some water, and after Harry got him a glass, he took a few sips and shakily began to set it down on the small night table. Some water slopped over the side and Harry helped him place the glass down.
“Thanks,” Farrell said, shaking his head as if peeved to have been helped with so simple a task. “I’ve been doing some checking. If I were you, I’d check on domestic production. ASR had a lot of holdings, and I’m not sure they divested all of them before shutting down.”
It made sense, and Harry filed the information away. They spoke for a few more minutes, and then Lynn entered. “I’ll talk with you later on,” Farrell said. “Keep me updated.”
“That’s a promise.”
Trotting on the street over to FBI headquarters, Harry met a few people along the way. Some of them gave him a wide berth, while others seemed a bit friendlier, asking about the details. “We’re on the Internet,” one of them said, “but the government, man, they’re never going to tell us the truth.”
The man, young and with an earnest expression, seemed decent enough, but Harry knew better than to offer anything concrete. All he had were a few theories and zero proof. “We’ll keep checking.”
It seemed like the right thing to say. Arriving at his destination, he saw Overton waiting outside, flanked by a few men. “They’re my backup, just in case you’re going to ask,” Overton tossed off.
He dismissed his men once they entered the building and took Harry to a small office on the second floor, furnished with a table, a few chairs, and a laptop. The rest of the room was bare, save for a few shelves with law enforcement manuals on them.
“You didn’t get Farrell’s office?” enquired Harry.
Overton stared at him. “You really have a low opinion of me, don’t you? No, I wouldn’t take it. They offered it to me, though.”
Leaning back in his chair, still favoring his injured shoulder, he grunted softly. “I’ve got too much respect for Farrell. Out of all the possible candidates, he picked me.”
Surprised, Harry realized this man wasn’t some power-hungry attention seeker after all. Perhaps another agent would have sensed the opportunity and gone overboard, but Overton hadn’t. He was all business, though, and sat up in his chair, eyes alert. “We’ve got privacy here,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”
As he relayed the information Farrell had mentioned, Overton’s face grew pensive, and he clicked on the computer and called up a few files of the now-defunct ASR. “We’ve been checking into what Farrell told you. He advised me to do the same thing. It’s all a matter of following the paper trail,” he said.
“We’ll find Allenby’s holdings, eventually. Derry’s been helpful, but he didn’t know everything. We can only go on our own sources.”
“I’m more worried about finding Allenby than what he has hidden.”
“Be worried about both.”
As they chatted over the possibility of government agencies helping out, Overton mentioned things would get started within a couple of months.
“Farrell did me a favor and pulled a few strings. No promises, but we might get Social Services and a few private companies involved. This won’t be checkbook charity. It’ll be education, training... everything you asked for.”
It all sounded great until the obligatory but moment came. It always did. “But there’s a snag here,” Overton continued.
“And that is...”
“Funds are limited, even from the private companies. The government is committed to helping out, but people—human people—come first. The transgenic group, we don’t know how many, what kind of training or education they have... nothing. So until we get some numbers and actual visitors outside of Leo and Istvan, then nothing will happen.”
At the mention of his friends’ names, Harry asked about them. “Istvan’s being kept in a safe house up in Herkimer County. Leo’s here.”
Herkimer County... Harry recalled a safe house there. Secreted in the woods, ostensibly it offered isolation and peace and quiet. He’d visited it once before and thought himself and Anastasia safe, but another monster, Szabo, the shark man, had come on a mission of mayhem, along with two other mutations who met horrible ends. All the cameras in the world plus motion sensors hadn’t done their job. “Security’s been beefed up there, I take it?”
Overton’s face turned red. “I know what happened before. To answer your question, he’s living the high life, and we’ve got a full team on duty twenty-four seven. Nothing is getting through.”
Uh-huh, that’s what they said the last time. Well, he had to trust someone sometime...
A knock sounded, and the door opened. Leo waddled in. He’d devolved even more, to the point that only the vaguest hint of humanity remained, and his speech, which had never been perfect, sounded more indistinct. Still, he brightened when he saw Harry. “I see my good friend. You have good news for me?”
He was talking about the Genesis Chamber. Overton offered a hands-spread-wide gesture, as if to say your call. “We can try it,” Harry said, “but I’m not sure how well it will work.”
Leo’s face looked positively pathetic. “Please, I will try.”
The Genesis Chamber w
as located in the basement. In the past, only Harry, Anastasia and Farrell had obtained the necessary clearance. Now, the mantle had been passed to Overton, and he produced a pass card which he swiped against the scanner. The door opened and the three of them walked in.
The room itself wasn’t overly large, but it had enough space to house the Genesis Chamber, seven feet in length and three feet wide. It sat in a corner, a thin film of dust covering its reinforced duo steel-plastic shell. A DNA differentiator, a medicine cabinet with some syringes, and a worktable with an electron microscope and other medical paraphernalia sat ready and waiting. Along with a computer linked to the chamber, all seemed ready.
Harry blew off the dust and fired up the computer that controlled the transformation. Leo gazed up at the machine, his expression one of hope mixed with fear. “Is this safe?” whispered Overton.
“It should be.”
It took a while for Harry to run the calculations and set things up, but finally, all looked ready. Still, this was only a theory, and there was no telling how the body would react. Uttering a soft grunt, he gestured to Leo. “Climb in. This might hurt.”
Silently, Leo entered and gave a paws-up gesture. Closing the lid and praying to the genetics gods, Harry threw the switch. Immediately, screams emanated from the chamber, horrid screams of agony that denoted bones breaking, being reformed and reshaped through the process of science taken to the limit. “Get him out of there!” Overton cried.
“It takes about five minutes,” said Harry through tight lips. He’d been through the same process, knew about the pain, but it had to be endured. “We can’t interrupt it.”
The cries of pain continued and the seconds ticked by with interminable slowness, but finally Harry cut the power and pulled back the lid. His friend lay there, still in animal form, unconscious, chest moving rhythmically. He’d reverted back to his original mix of mole and human. “Did it work?” Overton sounded skeptical.
No other answer save the one of “sort of” seemed suitable... so Harry said, “Yeah, it did, sort of.”
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