05 - Changeling

by Chris Kubasik - (ebook by Undead)

  “Please,” said the mother, “Please, just let them go…. They’re so young.”

  “I’m not going to hurt anyone….”

  The younger daughter began to cry more loudly.

  “I just need to ask you some questions…”

  The mother met Peter’s eyes. She stood, curious, ignoring her children for the moment. Her tone was flat. “About what?”

  “ABTech Enterprises…”

  “Get out!” she shrieked. “Get out. Get out! Get out!”

  “I just…”

  “Please, please, leave. I can’t talk about that.” She was near tears.

  Peter took a step closer. The woman pushed her daughters behind her. “You can speak…. I won’t tell anyone what you say.”

  “If you have any decency in you, you will leave,” said the woman. Then she gasped, looking beyond Peter to the door.

  Peter spun around, expecting to see me ork gangers. Instead, he found a lone middle-aged ork in the doorway. The ork looked back and forth between the broken door and the troll. Then his face turned to anger. “What’s going on here?”

  “This man…” began the wife.

  “I need to talk to your wife about something…”

  “The hell you do…”

  “Mark,” the wife said pleadingly.

  The husband stalked into the room. Peter noticed immediately that the ork was strong—probably a street fighter as a kid, maybe a dock worker today. He looked drunk.

  “The hell you do,” the man repeated absently. “What the frag are you doing here?”

  “I have to ask your wife some questions.”

  “He wants to know about ABTech.”

  The man’s eyes suddenly narrowed. He clenched his hands into fists. When he spoke again, his voice was low but full of menace. “Get the frag out of here now.”

  “I can’t leave until I…”

  “Get the frag out of here NOW!”

  “What does your wife do at ABTech?”

  Peter had just gotten the question out when he saw that at least a half-dozen orks had come out into the hallway. Two of them were kids from the lobby. Others were neighbors drawn by the shouting. The latter had donned housecoats and bathrobes.

  Wrong, wrong, wrong, thought Peter.

  But instead of rallying the orks to his aid, Wilson began shouting at the assembled gawkers and demanded they go away. The orks were at first surprised. But when his ranting continued unabated, they gave up and left.

  Furious now, the man turned his attention back to Peter. He stomped up to him, the words hissing out of his mouth, as if he didn’t want his neighbors to know more than they already did. “I don’t know who you are or what you want. But get out of here now. And I don’t want to hear another word from you about that place.”

  He stepped aside to let Peter pass.

  “I’m not leaving until…”

  The ork swung his fist up into Peter’s chin, sending a sharp pain through his head and neck. Peter stumbled backward and tripped over an end table. He is strong, Peter thought. He is capable.

  The ork confirmed the street-fighter theory when he rushed at Peter and kicked him in the face before Peter had a chance to surrender. The shoe smashed into his right cheek and left a burning sensation.

  “Frag,” said Peter aloud, and swung his arm out and tripped the man.

  With a thud the ork fell to the ground. Peter scrambled up and leaped on top of the ork, his massive frame crashing down on the other man’s chest. The ork gave out a tremendous gasp, then brought his knee up into Peter’s groin. The pain sliced through Peter again and again as the ork struggled to get out from under. But Peter slammed his right fist into the man’s head.

  “Stop it,” screamed the wife. “Please, both of you, stop it.” Peter had forgotten the others in the room. Now, with the wife’s pleas interrupting the fight, he also heard the girls, both of them crying now.

  Distracted for the briefest moment, Peter had let down his guard, giving the ork a chance to swing his hand into Peter’s kidney. Peter made a mental correction: the guy was really strong. Without thinking about it. Peter rolled off the ork, clutching his injured side. The ork scrambled up from under him, but he was holding his face above the eye; Peter’s previous punch had drawn blood.

  The ork dropped his body toward Peter, hoping to catch Peter’s face and neck beneath his knees. Peter rolled out of the way, then swung his right arm behind turn. The punch slammed into the ork’s face, and he crashed to the ground.

  The woman rushed to her husband’s side, placing herself between the ork and Peter. She raised a hand to Peter. “Please. What do you want to know?”

  “NO!” screamed the ork, and he jumped to his feet and past his wife. He rushed and tackled Peter. The two men slammed into a couch, flipped over it, and sprawled onto the floor.

  Peter, desperate to stay in control, shot his hand out and slammed the ork’s face down into the ground, then grabbed the man’s right arm and twisted it around his back. The ork screamed out in agony.

  “No, no!” the wife shouted. “Please stop!”

  “Shut up,” the husband growled, his voice strained. By now, the girls had stopped crying and had run up to Peter and were pounding him on the back. Peter ignored them.

  Pushing up on the ork’s arm, Peter told the woman, “Talk, or I’ll snap it off.”

  “Yes,” she said, with a helpless wave of her hand.

  “No. Don’t,” insisted the husband.

  “What were you doing at ABTech?”

  “I… I’m a subject in an experiment.”

  “They pay you?”

  “Stop!” The husband was desperate now. He struggled wildly and jerked his arm into a worse position.

  “Yes,” she said hesitantly, as if something remained unsaid.

  “What are they working on?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, what are they doing to you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?” said Peter, clearly surprised. “You don’t know what they’re doing to you?”

  “It’s not me. It’s the child.”

  Peter didn’t understand. “What?”

  “We needed the money….”

  “Laurie!”

  “We needed the money…” she repeated, as if Peter would understand. “The children needed food. We couldn’t feed Suzie and Anne…”

  “I don’t…”

  “The child!” the woman screamed at him. “I sold them my baby!” She placed her hands on her round belly.

  “They’re experimenting on your unborn child?” he asked. The idea so numbed him that he dropped his hands limply, freeing the husband. Wilson wriggled out from under Peter and immediately got to his knees and began slamming his fists into Peter’s shoulders. But the fight was out of the ork now and his blows were ineffectual. Peter’s eyes met his. Tears ran down the husband’s face.

  He stopped hitting Peter. The two continued to stare at each other.

  “I’m sorry…”

  “Leave,” the man said simply. “Please leave.”

  “Yes.”

  Peter stood up. He turned to the woman. “I…” he began, but what could he say?

  “What?” the woman asked flatly, ready for the whole affair to be over.

  “Your child? What will happen…?”

  “Aborted. Some of them are born. Others aborted. Mine will be aborted. But they all belong to ABTech. One girl, a human, Julie something, tried to run away to Seattle. They said they got her.”

  “Others?”

  “Others! You don’t think I’m the only one, you Mr. Fancy-Dressed, do you?”

  “No… I…”

  “Get out. You got what you wanted. Our shame is yours now. Now get out.”

  “Yes.”

  Peter walked to the door, his movements stiff, partly from the day’s fights, and partly because his mind could not digest what he’d just learned. At the door he looked back. />
  The family was on the floor, huddled together. The older girl stroked the back of her father’s neck. “It’s all right, daddy. It’s all right, daddy. We’re all right, daddy.”

  He found a back exit and cut briskly through an alley and into the street. A final glance back at the building showed him a crowd of orks gathered around the front door.

  Then something caught his attention out the corner of his eye. Standing next to a lamppost was Fast Eddy, twitching visibly as he tried hard to look casual. He was watching the crowd and the building, obviously waiting for Peter to appear.

  Then Eddy spotted Peter gazing at him. Fast Eddy’s face twitched crazily and he took off down the street.

  28

  Without giving a thought to the crowd milling around the building, Peter rushed after Eddy. He cut across the street to keep out of the way of the orks, but a few stood in his way. He pushed them out of his path as gently as he could.

  “Watch it!” one shouted, but no one followed him.

  Eddy was a full block ahead of him now. He ran like an epileptic on adrenaline boosters; his arms flailed, and he stumbled twice looking over his shoulder at Peter. Yet somehow he rolled on at an amazing pace, possessed by some unidentified demon of motion.

  Peter knew he had to catch Eddy, that he had to find out how much Eddy knew. Had Eddy tailed him to ABTech? Did he know the location of Liaison and Breena’s place?

  Eddy ducked down one street, then another. Peter almost lost him twice, but only almost. Too many times Eddy’s body failed him, and he got stuck hopping up and down in place. When Peter finally caught up to his old friend, Eddy was just turning a corner. No one was around.

  Peter didn’t tackle Eddy, as he had originally planned, but scooped him up and carried him off into an alley. He dropped Eddy behind a dumpster, then knelt down and wrapped his right hand around Eddy’s neck.

  “Hello, pal.”

  “Hi, Prof. How’s it how’s it how’s it going?”

  “Oh. Just great. A lot of people want to kill me.”

  “And that slot you picked…?”

  Peter tightened his grip on Eddy’s neck. “Eddy, I let you talk that way before because I had no idea who you were talking about. I don’t think you did, either. You were just talking about ‘women,’ your idea of women, not at all connected to a real person. Now you’re talking about a real person. Unplug it.”

  “You got it, Prof.” He smiled his winning smile, which was now worn and ragged.

  Peter released the pressure, but kept his finger against Eddy’s neck.

  “You were looking for me?”

  “Yeah. Listen, Peter, I’m really sorry. Really sorry. Really sorry. That was a bad call I made. I shouldn’t have done that to you. To you.”

  Peter was immediately suspicious. “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “What? You don’t think I can, you know, can, you know, think I did something wrong and feel bad about it?”

  “No.”

  “You’re right. All right, right. There’s something something something else. I’m out, Peter. They dumped me. I’m dead. I’m as dead as you. I wanted to, you know know, team up like old times. You know…”

  “No.”

  “Please, Peter.” Eddy looked away, but Peter could see the tears shining in his eyes. “I’m really I’m really a mess. My hand, Peter”—he raised the hand Peter had snapped. A blood-soaked rag covered it. “They wouldn’t spring for the magic. Magic. I’m really messed up.”

  Peter sighed. “Eddy, I don’t trust you.”

  “You don’t trust me? You’re the one who out of the ether decides not to geek the… sorry… her, and you can’t trust me? You started this. This. Didn’t I get you get you into the gang? Didn’t I help you get the stuff you needed?”

  Peter knew Eddy was manipulating him, but had to acknowledge the man had a point.

  “Yeah. You did.”

  “Yeah. I did.”

  “Don’t push it.”

  “All right.”

  “What do you want, Eddy?”

  “To be the same as before. The way we used to be. We don’t need the gang. We can knock over the small stuff. Have enough to live on. You and me. Get enough money to get my hand fixed. What do you say?”

  “No, Eddy. I don’t want that.”

  “Why? Because of her?”

  “Partially because of her. Partially because… I don’t know. I want out of that now.”

  Eddy barked out a laugh. “You’re going straight?”

  “I could!”

  “Right! Hey, wait a minute! She read read read your stuff. Your troll stuff. You going to be human again?”

  Peter didn’t know how to answer. “Yeah. I might. I almost might be.”

  “You’re so lucky. I’d love to get fixed. You know, you’re a troll and all, but you got… It works. It works. Me. What? I’m a mess. I can’t do anything. I’d do anything to be cured.” Peter stared at his friend sadly. Repairing neural damage was as difficult as genetic manipulation. Still cutting-edge, still experimental.

  “All right. I’ll get your hand fixed. That’s it.”

  They stood up and started to walk down the alley. “So, did you find that guy you were looking for?”

  “None of your business, Eddy.”

  “Yeah. Sure.”

  * * *

  “Who the frag’s this?” Breena asked when Peter returned with Eddy.

  “A chummer. He’s in trouble.”

  Kathryn rose from a table where she was reading Peter’s file on one of Liaison’s portables. “This is the man who betrayed you.”

  “Hi,” Eddy said, insipidly.

  “I don’t understand,” Breena said insistently. “Who is this guy? Why is he here?”

  “He needs help. I owe him.”

  “I don’t. You! Get the frag out!”

  “Look, his hand is busted up pretty bad. Please. I’ll pay. Fix it.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, staring hard at Peter for what seemed like a long time. She’d weighed it out. “All right.”

  Hours later, while Eddy slept on the living room couch, the four of them held council over soup and bread in the kitchen.

  “I dug up some stuff from the Matrix,” said Liaison. “ABTech Enterprises is buried under a sea of data. Nobody seems to know its history or what it does. The scoop I’m giving you I put together with pieces from here and there.

  “It’s a privately held company that’s a subsidiary of Biogene Technologies, a biotech firm in Seattle. Biogene had some problems with Aztechnology a few years back….”

  “Aztechnology!” Peter and Kathryn exclaimed in unison.

  “Relax,” Liaison continued. “Since then things have cooled down. I don’t think Aztechnology is involved with the Chicago company at all. But at the time it was bad enough because Biogene was weak. A company called Yamatetsu gobbled it up. Apparently they liked what they bought, but the property was too hot to handle because of the Aztechnology hose-up. Yamatetsu melted Biogene down electronically and set it out into the data streams.

  “I think they decided to hide some of the Biogene resources and research in the UCAS proper, so Aztechnology wouldn’t get involved with it. They called it ABTech Enterprises.”

  “That would make sense,” said Kathryn. Then she put her hand over her mouth in surprise. When she pulled her hand away, she said, “Of course. It makes sense now. Two years ago somebody hit Aztechnology in Seattle to steal something hot. Very hot. No one knew who did it, or what they took, but now… It was Biogene Technologies, and they were probably going for some sort of recombinant DNA research.”

  “They must have pooled their own work with the data they got from Aztechnology,” Peter put in, “and then worked on it here in Chicago for the last two years.”

  “Maybe they’ve got it by now,” said Kathryn.

  “Well, if they don’t, they’re very close.” Peter then told them what he’d just learned in the ork ghet
to.

  When he was through speaking, the others remained silent for several minutes. Kathryn stood up and walked over to the sink, her back to the group.

  “This is drek,” said Breena. “Can’t believe they’re trying to take the magic out.”

  “Well, that might not be the way they’re going to do it,” Peter said weakly. “My theory….”

  Breena’s dark eyes flared as she leaned toward Peter. “You know, I’m just now realizing how selfish you are. You want to stop being a troll? Fine. But do you have any idea how many people you’re dragging down with you?” She imitated him. “My theory does not rip the magic out of a person…”

  “Well, it doesn’t. It just… It blocks the magic. It shuts down the genes that produce metahuman characteristics. It’s not a recombinant process. That’s too… unwieldy. All the work on metagenes along the lines of splicing and bonding has turned sour. It’s too unpredictable.”

  “So what’s your trick, darling?” Breena asked coldly.

  “It’s ingenious, actually,” said Kathryn, turning around. Her eyes were cold and hard. Distant. “He doesn’t want to alter the genes themselves. He wants to prevent the environment, the new element of magic in the environment, from activating the metahuman genes.”

  “And you want to shut the magical environment out from the DNA.”

  “Exactly,” said Kathryn. “He’s going to sidestep the recombinant process. It’s like keeping someone out of the sun. If you’re not exposed to the sun, your skin doesn’t darken.”

  “Right.”

  “Genes already have molecular ‘controllers’ for different possible reactions of the DNA to the environment. Peter… Profezzur, wants to turn those controllers back on as if the magic wasn’t in the environment.”

  “Wiz,” said Liaison, excited more with the detail than the implications.

  “And everybody will be pasty-white,” said Liaison.

  “What?” asked Kathryn.

  “If everyone stays out of the sun, then everyone is pasty-white,” explained Peter. “Right?”

  Breena nodded. “So you could take away my ability to do magic.”