“Well, we have faster-than-light communication, fusion, and chickens that eat children. Which would you like to see first?
“Show me the chickens. Those other things sound boring!”
CHAPTER 45
Jessica tossed a large handful of fish food into the lake by the Operations Center with Mykl observing from the top step of the feeder box. She still struggled with a case of the giggles from Mykl’s encounter with the chickens.
“Did you really think it was trying to eat you?” she asked.
“It pecked my toe!” Mykl flushed scarlet. He was still embarrassed by the high-pitched squeal that had involuntarily escaped his mouth and the impromptu chicken dance he had performed to escape his attacker. “How do you think you would have reacted if you were my age?”
“I haven’t been your age in a very long time. I—” She stopped suddenly. “Mykl?”
“What?”
“How old is Jack?”
Mykl plunged his hand into the fish pellets as he pondered the question. Jack did look older, not old, and certainly not elderly. “I don’t know. Maybe fifty?” Mykl dropped pellets into the water one at a time.
“And his codename is Jack the Ripper,” Jessica said. She stared out over the lake.
“What of it?”
Popping sounds came from the water’s surface as fish eagerly consumed the slow stream of falling pellets.
Jessica leaned sideways against the railing to face Mykl. “When I first arrived for my job at that secret installation…” She paused to chuckle. “Secret. Ha. It may as well have been a public library compared to this place. Anyway. In one of the old airplane hangars, there was an inscription written in the concrete.”
Mykl looked up, annoyed that she had apparently decided to make a dramatic pause. He put an index finger to his temple and stared intently into her eyes. “Nope, still can’t read minds. You’re going to have to tell me what the inscription was.”
“A name and a date.”
Mykl made a small clockwise circle in the air with his finger.
“Jack the Ripper.” She reached out and tweaked Mykl’s nose. “2/14/55.”
Mykl playfully swatted her hand away. “Jack is not over a hundred years old.”
“Noah is sixty,” she shot back.
“But…” Symbiotic with carbon-based life, Jack had said. “Noooo, Jack wouldn’t…”
“How long have you known him?”
“Two days.”
“Two days? Do you even know his real name?”
“Jack Smith.”
“And you believe that. Jack Smi—” She slapped her forehead. “Holy shit! Mykl, I read an article on a study done by a J. Smith when I was working on my thesis. He was delving into the same theories I was: subatomic particles and their energy-producing potential. I think the date on that study was in the mid 1940s.”
“That has to be coincidental. There’s thousands of J. Smiths in the world,” Mykl said, though cracks of doubt began to emerge.
“There are too many coincidences if you ask me,” Jessica said.
“Mykl! Jessica!” sang a melodic voice from the shore end of the walkway. Mykl turned to see Delilah waving and beckoning.
“He’s not that old,” Mykl groused as he tried to keep pace with Jessica.
“Ask him,” Jessica said, all but double-dog daring Mykl to do so.
“I will!”
Delilah smiled as they approached. “Sorry to have to cut your tour short, Jessica, but Jack needs Mykl back at the house.” She guided Mykl to her cart. “You are welcome to keep exploring if you wish. We may be a while. If you return your cart to any parking space marked with a green circle, it will recharge itself.”
“Thank you,” Jessica said.
As she watched the two figures in the cart disappear around a corner, she thought to herself: You don’t know Jack.
CHAPTER 46
Mykl glowed with a happiness he hadn’t felt in ages. Spending the morning bantering with Jessica reminded him of spending time with…
No. He couldn’t allow himself to open up that door—not now—not yet.
“Did Jack say why he needed me?” he asked Delilah.
“Something about a family meeting. He had one of those cryptic looks that told me he wasn’t going to divulge anything more. He does like his little surprises. Our son is on his way here too. He should arrive at any moment. It’ll probably be the death of me with both of you getting into trouble.”
Jack and Delilah’s son? In the current family hierarchy, that would make him Mykl’s older brother. Mykl wondered about him. What did he do in this whole City business? What did he look like? Would he want his old room back? He would certainly know how old Jack was. Mykl was bursting with curiosity.
Delilah parked the cart in the same spot from which Mykl had commandeered the other one. He felt a tad less guilty about his actions, now that it appeared they were a community resource rather than personal belongings.
“Go on in and make yourself comfortable. I’ll see if Jack is ready. He had some priority operational items to discuss with Dr. Lee.”
Mykl went inside. He wondered if he was a “priority operational item,” then convinced himself that he was inflating his perceived value.
Three running steps and a leap placed him in the middle of his bed with Stinker. He grabbed the ratty teddy bear and headed to the living room. Since the house was empty, he took another running leap and dove over the arm of a couch, landing in the middle of the cushions. With Stinker in his lap, he waited.
A cart being driven at a reckless speed skidded to a stop in front of the house, and its door swished open.
“Hello! Hello! Hello!” called a young man in military uniform, stepping in the door.
Mykl stared, openmouthed. He knew this man. The uniform made him look different, official, but the smile remained the same.
The man removed his cap and tousled Mykl’s hair. “Hello, Mykl,” he said, plopping onto the opposite couch and putting his feet up on the crystal-clear table.
“You!” Mykl choked out his words, “You’re Jack’s son?”
The man nodded. His smile was infectious. “I see Stinker has a new friend,” he said, pointing to the bear in Mykl’s lap. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he asked, “Did mom tell you how he got his name?”
Mykl laughed. “She did. I didn’t believe her—but I do now.”
He realized now that he should have guessed who Jack’s son was much earlier. All the signs had been there. The comfortable familiarity, the banter—the hug. Subordinates don’t hug their bosses, but sons do.
“So, what do I call you?” Mykl said. “Officer Smith… or Kyle?”
“Just Kyle will be fine. Only Mom calls me Officer Smith.” He chuckled. “And that’s only when she’s annoyed with me. She snaps her fingers at you when she’s really mad,” he added dramatically.
“She’s too nice to ever get mad.”
“Well, it’s a good thing your feet can’t reach the table,” Kyle said, stretching his body out further.
“What do you do that you have to wear a uniform?” Mykl asked.
“My current assignment is as an executive officer on a submarine. I was about to be deployed for a new mission when—”
A rapid snapping of fingers interrupted him. “Officer Smith!” shouted Delilah. “Get your feet off that table!”
“But…”
“I don’t care if it’s made of diamond, it’s the principle of the matter!” Delilah curled her finger. “Now get over here and give your mother a kiss!”
Kyle winked at Mykl before standing to kiss his mother’s proffered cheek. He had the tact to look appropriately sheepish under her glare. Mykl, observing from the couch, smiled in confidence that he still hadn’t really seen Delilah angry. Kyle gave his mother a hug and another loud smooch on the cheek before retaking his place on the couch.
“You may know how to placate your mother, young rascal, but Jack has certainly b
een in a mood since yesterday. Now which one of you has gotten into trouble?”
The two boys pointed at each other so fast it was as if they had long practice at the maneuver. Delilah rolled her eyes as they both burst out laughing.
***
The laughter rumbled through the house to the balcony where Jack was collecting his thoughts. He couldn’t contain or justify the anger he had originally felt for the transgression he now held documented proof of. What he held was simply the truth, and it was time for all parties to face it. Of all the power and technology at his disposal, one force in the universe still conquered all.
With one last deep breath to ready himself, he pulled his gaze from the City and entered his home.
Sustained laughter bubbled from the living room. Kyle caught sight of his father and fell still. Jack now understood the pain he so often detected in his son’s eyes.
“What’s wrong, Dad?” Kyle began to rise from the couch.
“Don’t get up,” Jack said, reinforcing his words with an outstretched hand. “You should take a seat too, dear,” he said to his wife.
A heavy silence settled over them as Jack and Delilah took seats in armchairs opposite each other. Mykl, eyes sharp and body tense, wrapped thin arms around his bear.
Jack laid a thick leather portfolio on the table. “I’m sorry, but there’s no easy way to do this,” he said. Reluctantly, he pulled the zipper to access the documents within.
***
The hairs on the back of Mykl’s neck tingled at the sound of the zipper’s grating teeth. The look on Jack’s face as he opened the portfolio made him feel as if the zipper were ripping open his spine and revealing his soul.
“Mykl…”
Never before had Mykl heard his name spoken with such sorrow. Every instinct told him to run, but the cold fist of fear gripped his spine so solidly that he could do no more than tremble inside a numb shell. His dry mouth forbade him to swallow. His body forgot how to breathe.
Jack pulled a rigid sheet from the portfolio. He set it on the table and slid it in front of Mykl. It was a color photograph of a woman’s face.
“Do you know this woman?” Jack asked.
Mykl blinked once. The frigid fist released his spine and snapped shut to crush his heart. Stinker tumbled to the floor as he leaned forward and woodenly reached for the photograph with both hands. Unbidden tears stung his eyes and blinded him. He knew in an instant who this person was. He had thought he would never see her face again. He had never seen her hair blond like this, but it didn’t matter. It was her.
Her!
A hollow ache deep inside him welled up to close off his throat. He closed his eyes and clutched the photograph to his chest, sobbing in ragged gasps.
The cushion next to him sagged. He felt a warm floral-scented arm wrap around him and a familiar soft body press into his stomach. He pulled Stinker to hide his face and catch his tears, then squeezed it into the embrace with the photograph of his mom.
“Her name is Anya Luchenko,” Jack said. “She went missing over a year ago. I am truly sorry about what I said before, Mykl. Dr. Lee has confirmed from your DNA the identity of your mother. She was not a stripper; she was one of our best undercover agents. We have recently discovered that her ability to keep secrets far outweighed her skill at uncovering them. She never told us about you. In fact, she rented a second apartment and led two distinctly different lives in order to keep knowledge of your existence from us and from the dangerous people she dealt with. Even after she went missing, when we searched her assignment-designated apartment, we found no sign that she had a child.”
Mykl couldn’t bring himself to look up. Still trying to reclaim control of his breathing, he said into the damp head of Stinker, “She… she said… her… her name… was… was Ta—Tanya.” So many secrets. Did I truly know my mother? I know she loved me. That’s what matters.
“Tanya Lush is the assumed name she used as a stripper, as well as on the lease for your apartment. She used an entirely different alias for her official residence. Only her ‘Tanya’ identification was found with the body. But the police, it seems, found a disposable phone in her locker at the strip club. There were two numbers on the phone, and both were for child care centers. That’s how they found you—and we didn’t.” Jack went back to thumbing through the portfolio.
Mykl concentrated on taking a slow deep breath. He had a question that had to be asked. “Where… Where is she… buried?”
He tried to hold Jack’s gaze, but the man’s eyes betold more tragedy. It was easier to keep his eyes shut and rest his forehead on Stinker.
Jack answered, “As per policy, and protocol of the county, due to her status and lack of any other documentation… her remains were cremated the day after her autopsy.” He pressed his fingers to the table, blanching his fingernails. “Her ashes were disposed of in a landfill outside of town.”
Had the tiny bear in Mykl’s hands been alive, it would have wailed in pain at the angry fists digging into its hide. Mykl clamped his jaw shut to bar a scream from escaping. He was certain he would never be able to stop if he let it out. White hot anger incinerated the fear inside him, but it had nowhere to go… there was no target to unleash it upon. It burned and burned until he felt as though nothing remained inside of him but cold ashes. He remained motionless, except for the slow tears trickling down his cheeks.
“Did your mother ever tell you anything about your father?” Jack asked.
Mykl felt dead inside now. Nothing remained but a dark vacuum. His small body sagged in resignation to things he had no power to change. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he looked once more at the photograph of his mother, and without emotion, he answered Jack’s question as if he were speaking to her.
“The last thing she said about him was that he was going to be happy to see me.” Mykl tuned out the world around him and lost himself in the blue eyes of the woman in the photograph. Nothing else existed.
***
Kyle had barely moved since the moment his father had first placed the photograph on the table. His sole focus had been on the small boy sitting across from him. The boy’s face was now blocked by the photograph he held as a shield against his grief.
Jack addressed his son without taking his attention from the portfolio on the table. “Officer Smith.”
“Sir?” he answered in a military-conditioned reflex.
“Did you know Agent Luchenko?”
Oh, yes. She was the only woman on earth to Kyle. His Eve. Even though she was forbidden. There were rules, regulations, reasons. But on a chance assignment, her smile and savvy wit had left him defenseless. At the end of the assignment, they parted with an unspoken understanding that they would be together again. The phrase held in check on both their lips had to wait until the proper moment. However, their eyes had held no secrets. There wasn’t a day since they were last together that he hadn’t thought of her and the words he so desperately wanted to share.
“I do,” he said, in the wrong tense to answer Jack’s question but in the proper spirit of the feeling inside him.
“You are aware, Officer Smith, that fraternization with other agents is expressly forbidden? Especially so in your case?” Jack spoke with the sternness of command, and the right side of his mouth twitched as though he was suppressing a frown or a smile.
How could Dad know? They had been so careful to avoid any City spying technology. Kyle wracked his brain to think of what he had missed.
Jack handed him three documents. Three DNA profiles. Kyle’s eyes went wide in understanding.
In a softer tone, Jack asked, “Did Anya know your full name, son?”
Kyle pursed his lips and nodded. A whirling flood of emotion spun inside his chest, ready to explode.
***
Entirely focused on his mother’s picture, Mykl sat completely oblivious to the conversation going on around him—until he slowly became aware that his name was being said over and over. He looked up to see Jac
k giving him an inquisitive stare.
“Did your mother ever tell you anything about your name?” Jack asked.
Mykl placed the picture of his mother on the cushion next to him. He looked at his hands as he ran them along his legs to his knees. “She said… She said I was named after my dad. She never told me his name.” He couldn’t make himself look up. He didn’t want anyone to see the warm tears that had begun to flow again.
Jack leaned forward. “Mykl, your father’s name is spelled M-I-K-Y-L-E. And around here, he is known simply as Kyle.”
Mykl looked up, across the table—and into a pair of copper-colored eyes exactly like his own.
CHAPTER 47
Even though he was certain, Mykl wanted to hear the words spoken.
“You’re… my dad?”
Kyle, his eyes moist, slid around the table and planted himself on the couch next to Mykl. “I am,” he said. “I am, I am.” He hugged Mykl to his chest while placing a kiss on the top of his head. Mykl endured a pleasant squish as Delilah included both of them in her own embrace.
“How do you know?” Mykl asked, rescuing his mother’s photograph from under Kyle.
Kyle—Mykl’s father—showed him the three documents that Jack had handed over. “These are the DNA profiles for you, me, and your mother. They prove conclusively that you are my son.” Kyle had a mischievous smile. “As far as your name goes, she used to purposely mispronounce mine as ‘My Kyle.’”
Mykl nodded slowly. It made sense. He didn’t know much about DNA, but he was very good at pattern recognition, and these documents showed similarities. His father’s markers were tagged in blue, his mother’s in yellow, and the markers they shared in green.
One tag was red— it was on Kyle’s record and his own, but not on his mother’s. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing at the red mark.
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