GeneSix

by Brad Dennison

  He answered the phone. A man’s voice, speaking in the sort of professional pseudo-monotone you heard on police shows, said, “Doctor Tempest. This is agent Tomkins with the D.T.D. I wanted to inform you we have taken your lab assistant, one April Hollister, into custody. We are holding her for questioning.”

  Scott drove a kick into a lab table, and a microscope balancing too close to the edge fell and destroyed itself on the hard tiled floor. There’s a few thousand dollars down the drain. But into the phone, he was deadly calm. “Might I ask why you apprehended her? Parking tickets?”

  “Doctor Tempest, there has been a serious breach of security.”

  “Ah, yes.” Still calm. If Agent Tompkins had any idea what this meant, he would be running for the hills. “You must be referring to the article in yesterday morning’s Press Herald.”

  Tomkin’s voice rose. He was clearly pissed off. “Of course that’s what I’m referring to. Your man, Jake Calder, attacked two of my men yesterday.”

  Before he could go on, Scott said, still calm, “I must correct you on that, Agent Tompkins. If Mister Calder had attacked your men, they would be dead. There’s no force on Earth that can stop him if he doesn’t want to be stopped. Except me. Remember that.”

  “Look, Doctor Tempest,” the agent’s professionally calm manner was fully fading as his ire rose. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, but I’m directing you and Calder to turn yourselves in before we have to get rough.”

  Scott was almost unnaturally calm. “Listen to me, you low-life neanderthal. You don’t know with whom you are dealing with. We are titans compared to you. If Jake Calder and I wanted to, we could squash you like insects. Don’t ever forget that. Ever.”

  There was an audible gulp. “We knew it would come to that. We knew the power would go to your head. Listen to me, you ingrate. Your experiments, all of the equipment you have there to play with, has been furnished for you by the United States government. Your very freedom is provided only at our discretion. If it were up to me, you and Calder would both have been apprehended and dissected long ago. You’re a threat to the security of this nation. You are both to turn yourself in within two hours, or we will be coming to get you. Is that clear?”

  “Actually, I must correct you on a couple points.” Still calm. “One, I don’t really think anything has been furnished by the United States government. It has been furnished behind the backs of the American people, and this is a government, of the people, by the people, for the people, if I am not mistaken. But of course, I’m not. And if I were, you wouldn’t be able to discern it, because next to me you’re like a cave man with his fists dragging on the ground. Secondly, even though you may not realize it, my freedom is at my discretion. Thirdly, not only am I not turning myself in, but I’m coming down there to get Ms. Hollister. And if she has been harmed, you will wish you had never been born. Am I clear? Am I using small enough words for you?”

  Tompkins chuckled. “How can you possibly come here? We’re holding her at an undisclosed location. You couldn’t find her if you tried.”

  “Hey, computer,” Scott said. “Tie into this call. Tell me, where are they holding April?”

  The computer said over the phone line, conversationally, “April’s being held at a warehouse at four seven three two, Commons Drive. In the back room.”

  Tompkins said, “Wait-a-minute. How the hell do you know that?”

  Scott said, “You would never understand the mathematics behind it. But don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  The door lock was clicking, and the door swung open. It was Jake.

  “Gotta go,” Scott said. “Nice talking with you.”

  The computer actually said, “Good bye, Agent Tompkins,” before Scott could disconnect the line.

  Jake went to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. “Is this fresh, or do I have to power-up before I drink it?”

  “Jake,” Scott said. “They have April.”

  Jake turned to look at him. “How much does she know about what goes on around here?”

  “Very little. Virtually nothing. But they don’t know that. I kept her in the dark to protect her, but it appears the gesture was futile.”

  “Do we know where they’re holding her?”

  “Oh, yeah. They were foolish enough to call from that location.”

  Jake nodded. “Your computer tracked the call.”

  “Yes, indeed. Look, I know you’re pissed at me. I know you feel your life has been ruined because of my miscalculations with that reactor, and maybe you’re right.”

  Jake walked over, a cup in one hand and placed the other hand on Scott’s shoulder. “Don’t take anything seriously I said yesterday. You’re the best friend I ever had. You know how I get when I’m pissed. I know it was just an accident. I don’t blame you for anything. Really.”

  Scott nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking into a half smile.

  “Now,” Jake said. “Tell me where they’re holding her, so I can go and get her.”

  Scott shook his head. “It’s time for Plan Alpha.”

  “And dare I ask, what that is?”

  Scott began to pace. “I have been planning for this for a long time. Since the very beginning, really. I was afraid it would come to this. I’ve been kissing up to the idiot Secretary to obtain his funding, but I always knew there would come a time to move on.”

  “Move on, where?”

  “Somewhere else. It is time our operation became covert. We can no longer trust any organization or government. We never really could. You and I control too much power, and we all know power corrupts. I don’t believe you’ll be corrupted, because you’re simply too good a man. And I don’t believe I will, because my desires aren’t Earthly enough. My desire is knowledge, not power. I desire to push back the multidimensional boundaries and explore the universe. A BMW and a trust fund just don’t interest me. If they had, I could’ve had them before now.”

  “So, when do we leave?”

  “Today.”

  “Today? I’d really like to talk to Mandy, first. I went to the campus news office this morning, and she apparently told them she’s been writing as Kimberly Stratton, and has left school. They said she could probably be found at the Press Herald office, in town.”

  Scott nodded. “There should be time for that. Let’s step into the office. I’ve got to show you the schematics of some things I’ve been working on, and I’ll outline the plan.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Jake could not even begin to guess how Scott had developed all of this without Jake himself even being aware of it. One of the things Scott had developed was the outfit Jake was now wearing.

  A nylon jumpsuit, navy blue for the most part, but with a wide aqua stripe totally engulfing his right sleeve, crossing his chest, and dropping to his belt level. God-awful ugly, he thought, but Scott said he thought the stripe was cool. Jake was concerned Scott would be forever trapped in the eighties when it came to taste.

  “Consider yourself lucky,” Scott said. “I really wanted to put you in a cape and tights.”

  Jake wore black boots rising almost to his knees. About his waist was a belt containing, among other things, a small cellular signaling device. About his left wrist was a band containing dials and small gauges. It could conduct many functions, all at once. Not the least of which was that it allowed him a direct link to Scott’s computer, and the link was by subspace so no conventional device could trace the transmission.

  This outfit had been treated with various radiations and chemicals Jake did not even know existed, making it virtually indestructible. Even though it was as flexible as any nylon fabric, a sharp edge could not slice into it. A bullet could not cut into it. Flame would not singe it. In short, Jake could power up and charge through a concrete wall without having to be concerned about his clothing being torn away.

  “Nobody likes a naked superhero,” Scott said, “unless her name is Wonder Woman.”

>   Despite the use of the term superhero, which Jake despised, he found himself having to laugh.

  Jake was now floating outside the fourth floor of the Press Herald building in town. One of the many functions of his wristband was it allowed him to negate or manipulate gravitational fields. And he needed little training to make it work. Scott’s computer was actually feeding the computations to the sub-processor in the wristband. Scott explained Jake’s brainwaves tended to be on a unique frequency, possibly because of the zeta energy, and his computer could pick them up easily. All he had to do was think fly, and the command was picked up remotely from his brainwaves by the sub-processor in his wristband sent via subspace communications to the computer housed in the old Mac casing, then the Mac sent the flight instructions back to the sub-processor – all within the time it took to blink your eyes – and Jake was flying.

  People in the newsroom were fluttering about, answering phones, checking computer monitors. One man then glanced out the window to see Jake hovering there, and then did a double take, and said, “You’re not gonna believe this, but there’s a man hovering outside the window.”

  This was the kind of statement you would normally be hard pressed to take seriously, but Mandy Waid had just spent the weekend with Jake Calder, picking his brain, learning his secrets. Her sense of disbelief had been severely stretched. She looked up from her word processor, fully expecting to see Jake Calder out there.

  “Get away from the window,” she said. “I think he’s coming in.”

  The man stepped away. Jake then crashed through the window, sending shards of glass skittering along the tile floor.

  “Captain Courageous,” one man said.

  Jake simply shook his head with annoyance, and walked toward Mandy.

  Despite how angry he was with her, he could not help but notice how good she looked. Her hair was pulled back with pewter combs, and she was wearing a white oxford shirt which was unbuttoned enough to catch the eye without being enough to look unprofessional, a pinstriped vest, and matching miniskirt. He had to force himself to remember, however, as good as she might look, her charms did not include virtue.

  On her desk was a laptop clamped into a docking station. There was also a telephone, and a nameplate reading, KIMBERLY STRATTON.

  “Cool threads,” she said.

  Without reply, he said, “I want to know why you did it.”

  “Why I did what?”

  “Don’t you have a shred of journalistic integrity? Everything I said to you was off the record. You said that twice.”

  “Not that I remember. Your word against mine.”

  “So, it comes to that?”

  “Come on, let’s go to the cafeteria and grab some coffee and talk. Everyone’s staring at you.”

  Without a word, she turned and started for the doorway. He had intended to have his say and simply leave. Out the window, flying away, using Scott’s newest technology. But as he stood in the middle of the newsroom, all eyes on him, Mandy heading for the door, he decided to follow her.

  As they walked along the corridor, he said, “I noticed your name plate.”

  “Kimberly Stratton is my professional name. It’s who I am, now.”

  “What about the college paper? And your classes?”

  “What about them? This place just offered me a job. I’m starting with them full-time at top salary. And I signed with a literary agent this morning, and he has already fielded two six-figure offers for a book.”

  “A book about me.”

  “Hey, Captain, you’re major news.”

  They stepped into the cafeteria. A couple tables were occupied, one of them by three men in ties that were loosened at the neck. One of them glanced at Mandy and Jake and said, “Hey, look. That must be him.”

  Another said, “Is that really Captain Courageous?”

  She indicated a table, and he took a seat while she went to a coffee maker and returned with two Styrofoam cups.

  “It’s hot,” she said, “but I suppose that wouldn’t bother you.”

  “You violated my confidence,” he said. “But I suppose that wouldn’t bother you.”

  “Touché,” she said, and sat across the table from him.

  She took a sip of coffee. “Look, I suppose you think I’m a horrible person.”

  “I’m starting to wonder, I will admit.”

  “Look, Captain. This is the real world. A girl’s gotta do what she’s gotta do. All right. Yes, I violated your confidence. But this was the story of a lifetime. I mean, my God, I slept with a real live superhero. And I got so many facts. So many details. Not just the reactor explosion that made you what you are – that’s public record – but your insights. Your feelings. Who Captain Courageous really is. I got an exclusive that is mine, and mine alone.”

  “Why did you have to come up with that horrible name?”

  She shrugged. “Because Superman and Captain America are already taken?”

  He shook his head. “I’m glad you find all of this funny.”

  “Oh, come off your high horse, Jake. How long did you think you could remain a recluse? With your power? You’re a real, bonafide superhero. A real live one. Just like in the comic books. You’re a public figure, and it would only be so long before someone got your story. Why shouldn’t it be me?”

  He sighed wearily. “I’m not a superhero. I’m just a guy who was caught in the wrong place at the wrong time. Yes, that reactor explosion gave me some unusual abilities. But I’m just a guy who works at a lab, assisting Scott. That’s all I am.”

  “And what about that girl a few months ago? The one you saved from being kidnapped in a parking lot?”

  He shrugged. He had asked her not to say anything, but she had.

  He said, “I was in the right place at the right time. And I would have stepped in, anyway. I would have done what I could, even without zeta energy.”

  “What about that car that rolled over last year, out on ninety-five? You ripped the door off, pulled a woman out of there and then shielded her from the explosion with your own body.”

  “Again, I would have tried to help anyway.”

  “It’s not about what you tried to do. It’s about how you did it. And it’s not about how you define yourself, it’s about how the public sees you.”

  “Reputation.” This seemed to connect with a conversation they had been having at her apartment.

  “Bingo. The public sees you as a superhero, so you’re a superhero. Whether you see yourself that way or not.”

  “And I have nothing to say about it.”

  She shook her head. “No more than any of us do. And as for me, the story was there and I would have been a fool not to grab opportunity when it knocked.”

  “So, our weekend together didn’t mean anything to you?”

  “I didn’t say that. It was great. Everyone needs a weekend like that once in a while. But let’s not make more of it than it was. It was a mini vacation, but now it’s over. It’s not as though we were in love.”

  Jake shrugged, and took a sip of his coffee. “I’m not one to sleep around recreationally.”

  She smiled. “You feel used. If that isn’t role reversal, I don’t know what is. Men have been using women for centuries.”

  “Not me. I don’t use people.”

  “Come on, Jake. It wasn’t really like that. Not exactly.”

  “No. You were sleeping with me to get a story. First the football player, and then me. Doesn’t using sex to get a story make you feel at least a little bit like a whore?”

  Her turn to shrug. “I don’t believe in labels.”

  “I know. I know. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”

  “It’s a man’s world. A girl has to try a little harder to compete. And there are many successful men who wouldn’t be where they are today if they let integrity get in the way. And now this story puts me on a level playing field with most of the top journalists in the country. I’ll be interviewing presidents. Prime minis
ters. I’ll never have to work on my back to get another story again.”

  “And you don’t think a woman can rise to the top based on pure ability?”

  She raised a brow. “In this world? Do you really think that?”

  Suddenly there was a loud crashing sound from beyond the doorway.

  “What the hell?” Jake asked.

  “Sounded like it came from the newsroom,” she said.

  There was another crashing sound, and the floor shook, and then the room went dark, and a moment later emergency lights came on. A woman screamed from the corridor and a man called for help. Another crashing sound, and the floor shook again.

  Jake was on his feet.

  “Stay here,” he said to her, and ran into the corridor.

  She shook her head. “Ever the boy scout.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  People were running from the newsroom in panic. Jake hurried past them and through the doorway, and was met with a fist striking him in the side of his jaw with the power of a pile driver.

  Jake was carried by the impact through the air, and into the wall, and through the bricks and mortar and out beyond the building, where he fell to the street four floors below.

  He crashed into the pavement, a shower of bricks and debris raining down on top of him.

  He had still been powered-up from his entrance into the building, crashing through a window in the same wall he had just crashed through on his way out. However, he had powered-up enough to do what he had to do, and no more. The fist had struck him with more power than any punch he had ever felt, and he had not been prepared for it.

  He rose to his knees, and found the world was spinning. He tasted blood, and the side of his head was numb.

  Two guards stood outside the door of the warehouse at 4732 Commons Drive. They were wearing dark, pinstriped suits. Their trench coats had been discarded because the day had turned off warm for November. Five black Chevy Impala’s were parked beside the warehouse.