by Alex Dire
A cloak of dread seemed to lift from the kitchen table.
“In theory. But I never got it to work. So why bother?”
Chip finished chewing. “I think that’s Norman’s point. We don’t want it to work. Why would we want our new enemies to be able to use sunlight? We want them to turn to goo, just like your mushrooms.”
Norman nodded. Exactly.
“Ahhh,” said Georgios.
“Ph.D. Indeed,” said Bronte.
“We’d need a lot of it,” said Chip.
“How long would it take to mass produce? We’d need enough for three hundred Super Corps. V,” said Norman.
“Could actually be more than three hundred very soon. Thousands maybe,” said Chip.
“It’s already produced,” said Georgios. “The company that funds my research paid me to make a ton of it to do large scale testing. I guess they had more confidence in my research then I did.”
At these words, Matt Barnes became fidgety, shifting around his seat.
“You know something about this?” said Norman.
“No,” said Matt.
Norman could hear his heart rate increase. His unease became more and more visible.
“You know that I know, right?” said Norman.
Matt became still, “Dammit, I gotta stop hanging around so many vampires. They have courses on how to lie to you people, but I haven’t had time to take them.”
“Where do you take such courses?” asked Bronte.
“Youtube,” answered Matt.
“What’s your connection to this science?” asked Norman.
Matt looked at Georgios. “I know the owner of Stinter Pharmaceuticals, your funder. He’s one of us. We have other reasons to be interested in your research beyond the culinary.”
Chip rose from the table unable to contain his returning enthusiasm. “So, all we need is a delivery mechanism. How can we get the virus into the Super Corps. V’s?”
“We could sneeze on them,” laughed MacManus.
Felicia chuckled.
Declan looked between the two. “I don’t get it.”
“Airborne’s probably not a good idea. Direct injection would be best,” said Georgios.
“Leave that to us,” said Matt.
“This whole idea sounds crazy to me,” said Bronte. “How certain are we that the effects will be the same on the altered vampire DNA?”
“We’re not. We can’t be. Can we, Georgios?” said Norman.
“I can’t say. I guess it might work in theory. I don’t know enough about the engineered genes of the super Corps. V’s. It definitely wouldn’t work on a regular vampire. But they’re part human. Perhaps…”
“Wouldn’t it take a few days for them to develop a…cold?” asked Chip.
Everyone turned to Georgios again. “I can’t say with any certainty…”
“Okay, we get it,” said Chip. “We won’t hold you responsible if things don't work out. Just give us some ideas. We need something to go on.”
Georgios looked over at Matt. “You guys might have some info that could be helpful here.”
Matt got shifty again, then pursed his lips, resigned. “Damn it. I suppose there’s no point to secrets at this stage. We’ve been learning more and more every day about these new irregulars…um…Super V’s. It’s taken quite a bit of science to achieve the gene resequencing in order to incorporate so much human DNA. Normally a human immune system would reject the vampire tissue. So, they’ve suppressed the human immune responses. Otherwise it would have taken a lifetime to incorporate the new gene sequences instead of just three years.”
“So, without a human immune system, the whole process of ‘catching a cold’…” said Norman.
“It could take much less than a few days,” replied Georgios.
“Excuse me. I need to make some calls.” Matt rose to leave the table.
“There’s no way this is going to work,” said Bronte.
Chip turned to her, angry. “What do you propose then, soldier?”
Bronte straightened up, realizing her breach of chain of command. “Sir, I think we should take them head on. We can’t win hiding or with…science. We should make one last stand.”
“Predictable,” said MacManus. “I never would have made it past age five with that kind of plan.”
“At least we wouldn’t be hiding. We’d go down fighting.”
“I’d prefer it if we didn’t go down at all,” said Norman. “We have nothing to lose trying this idea.” The room fell silent. “And there’s little time.”
“Besides, if it doesn’t work out, we could always save oblivion for tomorrow,” said Tyreese. “I can wait.”
Felicia chuckled again. “Are you ever serious?”
“I’ll be serious when I’m dead,” he replied. “Which will apparently be in a day or two.”
“Shite,” said MacManus.
“Shite,” mimicked Felicia.
23
Recon
MacManus pulled the back minivan into traffic. Oncoming cars swerved suddenly after nearly running into him. Others blinked their high beams.
“Lights!” said Norman.
MacManus flicked on his headlights. “Shite. It’s the only thing I can’t get used to. I don’t need the fucking things but they all do.” MacManus flicked his chin toward the oncoming traffic.
“So how much of this stuff do you have exactly?” said Rae who sat squished between Georgios and Norman in the back seat.
“Enough to grow fields and fields of mushrooms. It was supposed to be the key to massive mushroom farms,” replied Georgios.
“How much money did Stinter Pharmaceuticals sink into your research?” asked Norman.
“Enough to set me up comfortably for a lifetime,” replied Georgios. “Well, a couple of human lifetime’s anyway.”
MacManus made a hmph from he driver’s seat. “What’s wrong with an honest day’s pay for an honest day’s work?” His contempt for the easy money class oozed from his lips.
“No. Nothing wrong with it, friend. Quite frankly, I’m more interested in the science. This vampire life is a gift. I can carry out longitudinal studies not possible in a human lifetime. I can recognize patterns that take generations to develop. This would require a great deal of coordination among human scientists. For me, it’s just a matter of time.” He stopped talking out loud but his statements clearly continued in his brain as he stared out the window. “Plus, the mushrooms are out of this world. Imagine the chef’s I could get to know?”
“How far away?” asked MacManus, unimpressed by Georgios’ grandiose research scheme.
“It’ll take about forty minutes. It’s just outside of town, past the bridge on Route ten.”
“I still don’t understand why we need to drive. We could’ve been there by now if we’d run.”
“You’ll see when we get there,” said Georgios.
“Plus, I’m not quite as fast as you all,” said Matt.
“I don’t see why you needed to be here at all,” said MacManus. “And you.” His tone lightened as he nudged Felicia. “I thought you were going to rip Norman’s head off when he told you not to come.”
“She can be very insistent,” said Norman.
“No way Mr. Bernard was leaving me behind,” said Felicia.
“You stick to him like a bug to amber,” said MacManus. “If I didn’t know better, I might have to tell Declan about your little affair.”
“Shut up,” said Felicia.
“Seriously, lass, no need to get so violent back there. Would it have hurt to stay back with your boyfriend?”
“I go with Mr. Bernard,” she said.
“Adorable,” said MacManus.
Felicia punched him in the arm.
“Hey,” said Rae. “What is this, eighth grade? Enough flirting. We’ve got work to do here. Plus, I might throw up.”
A half hour later, the grey mini-van pulled into the driveway of a small ranch style house. The lawn was badly o
vergrown with tall grass and invading weeds.
“Home sweet home,” said Georgios.
“I thought we were going to your lab?” said Norman.
“This is it,” replied Georgios.
“How you got so much funding is beyond my understanding,” said Norman.
“Wait till you see the lab. You might change your tune.”
Georgios fumbled through his pockets and produced a key. “Haven’t used this in a while.” He opened the door and the group stepped into the darkness inside.”
Rae flipped the light switch a few times to no effect.
“Can’t say I’ve paid the electric bill in a while. Follow me.”
Georgios led the group through the dining room and into the kitchen. He fumbled through some cabinets and drawers.
“This is your lab? Now I’m starting to wonder about you,” said Norman.
Georgios did not reply and continued to look through the various storage spaces in the kitchen. “Where the hell are they?”
“Please tell me you know where your magic potion is?” said MacManus, taking on a superior tone.
Georgios ignored the comment and reached up onto a shelf. He pulled out a head of garlic. “Here you go.” He tossed it to Felicia who caught it easily. She looked at it for a moment and then dropped it, springing back a step. She looked up at Norman who detected a hint of fear mixed with her confusion.
“Don’t worry,” said Norman. “It can’t hurt you.”
MacManus chuckled.
“At least not that species,” said Georgios. “It sauté’s very nice, though. Bring it back to the condo.”
“Seriously?” said MacManus. He began kicking at the floor and pacing. His undirected body motions betrayed his increasing discomfort with his scientist companion.
Georgios looked around the kitchen and scratched his head. “Hmph.”
“I hope we have a plan C,” said Felicia.
Then Georgios looked toward the kitchen window above the sink. A basket dangled over it that contained shriveled onions with long green stems and potatoes with overgrown eyes.
“Ah!” he said. He reached into the basket and produced several shriveled lumps. He sniffed them and smiled. “Still good.” Tossing them to Felicia he added, “bring these too.” He brushed his hands and looked from face to face at his companions. “What? They’re my last ones.”
“Tell me we didn’t come here for mushrooms,” said Norman.
“Oh no,” replied Georgios as if remembering the real purpose of their mission for the first time.
“Follow me.” He led them across the kitchen to a door. He opened it and looked into the blackness beyond. A dank smell emerged from the abyss, a smell that reminded Norman of his time in the sewers. He sniffed and frowned.
“Can’t be helped. Mushrooms are decomposers. They feed off the dead,” said Georgios.
He descended a stair case into the suburban home’s basement. Norman followed. The darkness in the subterranean structure was near perfect. Norman’s vampire eyes strained to see what lay in the tomb.
“Stay close,” said Georgios. “There’s millions of investments down here. Don’t go tripping and breaking anything.”
Norman took small, slow steps, using his feet as feelers where his eyes were unsure. Georgios fumbled through a collection of metal, glass and plastic items on a table’s surface somewhere at the other end of the basement.
Norman heard him shake a box full of some kind of small items, then a rough friction sound. Light exploded from the tip of a match. In the darkness it seemed impossibly bright. Norman shielded his dark adjusted eyes.
After a moment, he lowered his arm and scanned the room. It looked like the inner sanctum of some kind of hoarder mecca. Magazines stood in piles to the ceiling in the corner. There were several tables and benches that looked home made with rough joints and unpainted wood. Every surface was completely covered with clutter. The debris consisted of everyday items like small spiral pads, pencils and mugs. But, also flasks, Bunsen burners, scientific glassware, and several electronic devices with long pointed probes attached. A thick layer of dust covered everything. The place stank of rot and abandonment.
“Walter White would be proud,” said Felicia.
“Oh,” replied Georgios, momentarily halting his debris foraging. “Was he a teacher of yours?”
“Um…Yeah. Sure.”
“I thought about becoming a science teacher once,” said Georgios. “I figured it might be a nice way to retire after I completed my research.”
Norman wasn’t sure if he should laugh out loud or punch Georgios in the face. “If I had a dime for every time some idiot said that.” He took a moment to let his angered mind calm. “Funny. I thought I might retire to an easier job like research or hedge fund management. Seemed like a nice quiet way to spend my twilight years.”
Georgios pursed his lips. He made as if to speak, but confusion log jammed the words.
“No offense, Mr. Pitera, but you wouldn’t last two seconds in Mr. Bernard’s classroom. We’d tear you to pieces.”
“Interesting,” replied Georgios. He resumed shuffling through items on the various surfaces, blowing the dust off, and placing several in a backpack. “Okay. Let’s go.”
“Back to the condo?” asked MacManus. “Why the fuck did we need a van and five people? You need the fucking company?”
Once again Georgios looked confused. This seemed to be a pattern with Georgios when he was around civilians. “Oh, no. Now we need to get the mixtures.”
Just then a jolt radiated through Norman’s body. His spidey sense sparked to life. A knock rang out in the empty house above them. They all looked up to the basement ceiling. Then they looked to each other’s faces waiting for someone to speak first.
“Let me handle this,” said Georgios, moving toward the stairs.
“I’d better join you just in case,” said Norman.
“If you’re going, I’m going too” said Felicia.
“Why don’t we all fuckin’ go. Sheeite,” said MacManus.
With that, the whole group ascended the stairs.
Another knock rang out as they crossed the dining room to the front door. “Open up. Police.”
They all stopped. Georgios put up a hand. “Wait.” He resumed his stride to the door. He opened it a few inches, revealing four uniformed police officers on the other side. “What can I do for you, officers?”
“We got a call about a possible break-in,” said one of the men. He pushed on the door to open it further and looked past Georgios scanning the room. When he spotted the group of vampires waiting in silence on the other side of the room, he moved one hand to his holstered gun.
“No, no,” replied Georgios. “It’s just me and my friends here. Entertaining.
“In the dark?” replied the officer. “Everyone please put your hands where we can see them.” He pushed through the threshold, and the other three policemen drew their side arms. “Now, please.”
Norman raised his arms above his head. No time for this. If they searched this place and found the mixture…
Georgios lowered his chin and stared at the officer. Into the officer. “None of this is necessary, sir.”
The policeman’s muscles relaxed, and he lowered his weapon.
“You should probably just go back to your car and report a false alarm.”
“Gary,” shouted a policeman from behind. “What are you doing?”
“I think this is a false alarm,” replied Gary.
“Like hell it is,” said the officer, moving up to the front.
Georgios moved his focus to the aggressive policeman. “No need for violence. This is just a normal suburban cocktail party.”
The second officer lowered his weapon. “Yeah. Cocktail party.”
As the second officer relaxed, Gary shook his head for a brief moment and raised his weapon again. “Hey! What’s going on here?” His posture stiffened and he raised his weapon again.
Georgios looked to him again. The other two officers pushed their way into the house, weapons extended on stiff arms. One shouted. “Nobody Move! We’re taking you in. If anyone’s got a problem with that, you can take it up with Smith and Wesson.”
The final officer in was younger. His voice shook with inexperience. “Should we call it in?”
Norman had given Georgios the benefit of the doubt, but this had gone too far. He focused his mind and saw the wills of the officers like floating orbs of ball lightning. He reached out is own will and caressed the random arks to smooth motion with his fuzzy octopus tentacles. “I think no one has a problem here officers. You can all lower your weapons now.”
The tension fled the room as the officers relaxed and lowered their weapons.
“The holster is probably the best place for those to avoid any accidents. Don’t you agree?”
The four police holstered their weapons.
“You're doing a great job. Your commanding officer will be very happy when you get back to the station and report that it was just a home-owner and some friends having a cocktail party.”
A sharp instant of static interrupted Norman’s command followed by a voice from Gary’s radio. “Officer Abraham, please report on your status.”
Everyone in the room looked to Norman.
“Go ahead officer Abraham. Tell them.”
Gary reached to his shoulder and click on his walkie talkie. “Um. Just a home-owner and some friends having a cocktail party.”
Norman whispered. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about,” repeated the officer.
“Move along,” said Norman.
“Move along,” repeated the officer.
Damn it, thought Norman.
“What?” came the voice. “Could you repeat? Did you say ‘move along?’”
A fainter voice came through the radio, “That house has been abandoned for over a year. Tell them we’re sending some back up.”
“Officer Abraham. We’re calling in a 10-94. Backup on the way.” The communication ended in a brief static burst.
Norman did not want to wait around for back-up to arrive. “See, you can go now. Back-up is on the way.”
