Dr. Albert’s lab was on the second floor and overlooked the parking lot. He was not in since it was time for his lecture in the main auditorium on Introduction to Alien Culture 102.
After donning her white lab coat, Alena analyzed her samples of DNA from mercons, Bingers, napes, and humans. As she stared at the results, her eyes opened wider and her lips parted.
“Whoa!”
She spent the next four hours writing up her results in the proper format for publication, not stopping to eat. Food could wait. She emailed a copy of her paper to her advisor and washed her labware.
Her comm vibrated and she answered with a tap on her nostril.
“Are you coming to dinner?” asked Mrs. Albert.
“Oh my gosh! Is it that time already? I’ll be right there,” Alena answered.
At the dining table that evening, Mrs. Albert spoke up and asked how her day was.
“Okay, I guess,” replied Alena. She didn’t mention her lab work. “I’m taking Chem 201 and I’m bored to death. I had all this stuff back on Earth. But I have to take it again to get credit for it.”
“I looked at your paper,” the doctor said. “Even though I read only the first three pages, I think it’s very good. How did you get samples of the Binger DNA?”
Damned if I’ll tell you.
“Can’t tell you that. My source insisted on secrecy.”
“I can understand that with all the anti-Binger gossip going on,” he replied. “Listen, I think your paper should be published in ‘The Journal of Rossan Biology.’ It’s unusual for an undergrad to be listed as an author and I think it would have more credibility if my name appeared first. But I insist that your name be next.”
Alena grinned. “That would be great!”
#
That night, Dr. Albert knocked on her door.
“Come in.”
After he entered, he said, “I read your full paper on DNA.”
“What’d you think?” she said with a grin, expecting praise.
He shook his head. “I’m not sure you should use my name on it.”
“What?” The edges of her mouth dropped. She looked at his furled eyebrows. He was serious.
“Come on, this is groundbreaking,” she added. “You’ll be famous.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” the professor added.
“What’s there to fear?”
“My peers are conservative. I’m afraid this paper of yours won’t get past them. To suggest a connection between human and mercon DNA would only add fuel to the roaring blaze of public attitude right now.”
“Oh boy. If you don’t publish this, when your name is mentioned one hundred years from now, people will laugh.”
“At you or me?” he replied.
“Sheesh. Think of all the great scientists of history.”
He shook his head. “I’m thinking of all the great fools of history.”
“Well,” she added. “If your mind is made up then, I’ll send it in on my own.”
“If you do, I’m not so sure I want to stay your advisor.”
When Alena got back to her computer, she removed her advisor’s name and sent the article with the accompanying images, to the editor of “The Journal of Rossan Biology.” Even though it might take days, maybe weeks if Dr. Albert were right, she looked forward to the fame it would bring.
She picked up her schedule.
Damn.
A test in Differential Equations tomorrow. Time to put her research aside and study. Her father’s word echoed in her head.
“One thing at a time.”
Chapter 15
Guy Coocher opened the email from his scientific advisor, Stenton Duran. Duran subscribed to every scientific magazine related to research on Rossan life forms and passed the articles that might interest him to Coocher.
The email said, “Read the article by Dani on ‘DNA of napes.’ Even though this is preliminary to the paper to be published online later, it might get on the news.”
Coocher didn’t like reading scientific papers, especially this one. They were hard to digest and full of words he didn’t understand. He skimmed over the introductory material and stopped when he saw a figure with the caption “Comparison of human and nape DNA.”
He reread the section on humans and napes for the second time and slammed his fist on his desk.
One of his priorities when he became the prime minister was to stop such wasteful research. That meant research on Bingers and napes too.
Why couldn’t they stick to safer subjects, like the lives of insects and other animals on this planet? There’s plenty to be learned right there that we could use. Rossa is full of the critters.
Since the major funding for such research came from the York Science Foundation he’d have little trouble getting those funds turned off. The YSF received ninety percent of its funds from the federal government and as the prime minister from Zor, he’d be on that committee. Most of the time, he’d send a representative. But for this funding decision, he’d go himself. His opinion would carry a lot of weight.
The name on the paper sounded familiar. Alena Dani. The daughter of a private investigator here in Zor, according to Duran.
The tone of the article was fresh and Coocher had little doubt most of it came from this Alena Dani. He pondered this new development.
Something has to be done about her before it’s too late.
#
Borner Hoskins yanked the rope tighter between his gloved hands but it didn’t help. It lacked that “personal” touch. What he needed was a human neck in the garrote.
The nervousness was like an old friend. It was time to hunt again.
His father had tied his mother up during sex and she liked it when he strangled her just short of death. But the last time he did that she died. He would always remember the look of rapture on her face before she passed out. The young Borner ran from the house, afraid his father would turn on him.
His father ran away instead and never returned. The years right after that were a blur to his young mind. He was the son of a murderer. So Borner spent the years of his youth in orphanages in rural Romania near the town of Deva. With a weak name of Borner Hoskins, he learned how to be tough, how not to seek affection from anyone else. None at all. The time he slugged a smaller boy and saw the fear in his eyes was an education. Being tough and ready to hurt others would bring the respect he wanted.
He knew being caught by the cops “doing his thing” could result in years in a cage or a firing squad. They just didn’t understand his needs at all. So he learned how to hide his “hobby” from the eyes of the police. Over time, it had become a need.
Which was a major reason why he got the nickname “The Rat.” He could scurry for cover whenever people with a badge came near. Any witnesses against him disappeared, sometimes under unusual circumstances.
A man’s gotta protect himself.
He tied the scarf around his mouth and nose and pulled it down. Then he coiled his favorite garrote, the one made of nylon cord with two wooden cross pieces for his hands, and inserted it into the inside pocket of his black bopum-leather jacket. He had purchased the cheap nylon cord at Beta Hardware so it would be hard to trace if any of it remained on his victim.
Knowing full well he could kill someone today added to his excitement and he quivered.
“Gotta be careful to not leave any evidence that could be traced back to me.”
Hoskins put on his leather gloves and got in his car. It had been too long since the last time. The need to kill pulled on him, tensing every nerve. The excitement, the overwhelming tension, had grown in recent months. It wouldn’t let up until he satisfied it. More and more, his thoughts turned to using his garrote.
He turned on his headlights to drive away the darkness. He manually drove the vehicle to the parking lot at the northern edge of the Franken Mall and pulled into a spot along South Central Park Avenue. The edge of the jail on North Central Park Avenue was visible between
the Natural History Museum and the Parliament Building. He shuddered to think of himself being stuck there.
The air was brisk but he expected that since it was autumn on Rossa. Winters came faster here than in Nantes on the west coast of France where he spent a decade. Even after seven years on Rossa, he still found the air chilly this time of year.
He wore soft-soled athletic shoes as he walked along South Central Park toward the train station. He had purchased them two months ago at a discount store so they’d be hard to trace.
Monday evenings were the best time of the week. Many folks were tired from not having slept enough the night before. Their guards were down and they might take shortcuts.
He spotted his prey. A woman walked in bright pink slacks, her head covered in the pullover hood on her beige trench coat. She carried two bags with the logos of Omar’s and Alton’s, two of the biggest stores in the mall.
Not sure what she might do, he walked fifteen paces behind her and raised his scarf to cover his mouth and nose.
Her left hand was not visible from behind. Maybe she carried her purse in it.
But her right hand interested him the most. The “almost” flesh color brought a smile to his lips. She had an artificial hand.
Excellent!
That would make it harder for her to pull on his garrote.
Will she take the shortcut through the alley to the railroad station?
He eased back to give her more room. His heart beat faster in anticipation as he followed her. When she turned to see who might be following her, he put his head down and raised his hand to his ear, like he was talking with someone on his comm.
With him only thirty feet behind, she made the right turn into the alley.
Yes!
Once he turned there, he looked around him. They were alone. He pulled the scarf up around his nose to hide the lower part of his face, unzipped his jacket, and pulled out his garrote.
By now, the adrenaline flowing in his arteries rushed full force. All his senses were sharp.
This is the time.
He rushed up behind her, made a loop in the garrote, slipped the short rope over her head, and pulled on the two wooden blocks to tighten the loop around her neck.
She dropped her bags and rushed her hands to her neck. But it was too late. He pulled tighter as she struggled to breathe. Not once did she reach over her head to pull on his face. Most of his victims’ immediate concern was getting air in their lungs.
He imagined her rush as she realized her life was coming to an end.
Just like Mom.
This one was strong. She struggled for fifteen seconds before her body went limp. He eased her to the ground and continued pulling for another ten seconds until he was sure she was dead.
He removed his garrote and looked around. No one else entered the alley.
Good. No witnesses.
Standing tall, he walked back toward the entrance to the alley and pulled his scarf down from his mouth. His whole body shook with excitement.
What a rush!
As he made his way back to his car, he smiled to himself. He was on top of the world.
His comm vibrated on this wrist. He tapped his nostril. It was from a client, Guy Coocher.
“I have a job for you.”
Chapter 16
I tagged my daughter but had to leave a voicemail. Next, I tagged her dorm and learned she had moved to a professor’s house. I tagged there next.
“Mrs. Albert? I’m Jake Dani, Alena’s father. Is she home?”
“Oh. You’re the father. I’m sorry to say but Alena is in class right now. She left hours ago.”
“I’m trying to get hold of her. Do you know which class?”
“No, I’m sorry, but I can’t remember. Something about mathematics, though. She rushed her breakfast saying she had to finish cramming for a math test.”
“Thank you. Would you tell her I’m trying to reach her?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Dani.”
I flared my nostrils to disconnect.
The temptation rose to tag Leanna next but she was at work and I’d probably have to leave a voice mail.
Oh well. Alena’s probably studying and doesn’t want to be disturbed.
#
Alena looked up as the woman approached her table. Despite the chill in the air, she had chosen one of the outdoor tables so she could enjoy the view of Central Park across the street. She pulled the jean jacket closed and snapped its buttons. Underneath, she had clothed herself in total blue jeans, including shirt and pants.
Being from another planet, she enjoyed being outside here whenever she could. She hoped to “soak up” what life was like while on Rossa. After all, she intended to spend the rest of her life here, close to her parents and the alien species she wished to study.
“Hi, Alena,” said Leanna Stone in her green slacks with a beige overcoat.
“Hi, Mom.”
Leanna pulled out a chair and sat.
“Thanks for inviting me for lunch.”
“I hope you don’t mind paying. I don’t get much spending money on my scholarship.”
“No problem,” replied Leanna. “It’s good to see you.” She reached out her hands and the two women clasped and smiled. They were buddies again.
“I sent another paper yesterday to ‘The Journal of Rossan Biology’.”
Leanna squeezed her daughter’s hands. “I’m so proud of you. Can you tell me what was in it─in plain English, this time?”
Alena grinned. “Sure. I analyzed samples of mercon DNA and found several SNPs in common with human DNA and nape DNA.”
“In English?” said Leanna as she sat back.
“Oh, sorry. SNPs are single nucleotide poloymorphisms. They are small sections of DNA. There is no reason for such a match with human or nape DNA. Unless they came from a common ancestor.”
“Are you saying humans, mercons, and napes have a common ancestor?” asked Leanna with wide open eyes.
“Yep,” replied Alena with a big grin.
Her mother sat, maybe stunned by this revelation.
“Where’d you get the mercon DNA?” asked Leanna.
“Oh. That was easy. I bought a doll at the mall.”
“And the nape DNA?” asked Leanna.
“From artifacts in Dr. Albert’s collection.”
“Who’s Dr. Albert?”
“He’s my advisor at the university. His specialty is xenoanthropology. I have a room at his place.”
Leanna asked, “And the artifacts came from?”
“He has a collection of dolls and tools from napes. He got them on his expeditions to Braco.”
Leanna sat back.
“Are you sure? About the ancestors, I mean.”
“Oh yes. I double checked my tests. This is going to wreak havoc with all theories of human evolution.” Alena smiled at her mother. “I’m going to be famous.”
Leanna changed the subject. “Have you seen your father lately?”
“Mom! Did you hear me? I’m going to be famous!”
“Yes, dear. I heard you. But you haven’t answered my question.”
Alena didn’t see any reaction on her mother’s face. Maybe it would take time to sink it.
Oh well.
With a sigh, Alena answered, “I tagged Mrs. Albert when I got out of class. That test was brutal! She said Dad was looking for me.”
“Have you two connected yet?”
That’s all she can think about. Me and my father. I’m sitting on the most important discovery in my professional career and all she can think about is my relationship with my Dad.
Alena sat, disappointed in her mother.
“Hey, let’s go to the Mall,” offered Leanna. “We can get a bite to eat there.”
Oh well, might as well. Maybe she just needs time.
The two women got up from their outdoor table and headed towards the Franken Mall.
“Vin and I would like to invite you to dinner at our place, some time,
” said Leanna.
Alena walked to the right of her mother, on the street side along University Avenue. She saw the tall man dressed in all black and standing next to the building and wondered what he was doing here. He was too old to be a student.
As he walked by her, she naturally turned to see him turn toward her.
The next thing Alena knew was. A loud gunshot came from somewhere on her left side.
“Mother!”
Someone grabbed her from behind and she kicked out at her assailant. She heard a man’s voice groan. Strong arms grabbed her and her legs kicked in the air as she found herself airborne. Next came a scream in her mother’s voice. Alena continued to kick and strong hands grabbed her ankles. It all happened fast and soon she felt a sting in her left thigh.
Her face crashed onto a hard surface. She struggled against someone laying on top of her. A door slammed shut. But she didn’t have much time to think as she blacked out.
The next thing Alena became aware of was sitting upright in a chair, with her hands tied behind her. She opened her eyes but couldn’t see much with a dark mask over them. She tried to kick and discovered her ankles secured beneath her.
A man’s voice said, “The younger broad is awake.”
Younger? So there must be an older woman nearby. Mother?
It was impossible to tell with this damned black eyeshade. Alena struggled against her bonds and her arms separated a couple inches.
“She’s getting loose!” said another man.
Another male voice yelled behind her, “Amateurs! Grab those wrists!”
But before she could break free, strong hands grabbed both wrists and forced them closer together. She felt something wrap tightly around her wrists.
“There. Let’s see you get out of that one!” said the same male voice to her rear.
“What do we do now? Hoskins said to take the student.”
Hoskins? Student?
So her kidnappers wanted her, not her mother.
“Idiot! Don’t use names!” said one male voice.
Apparently that one was the boss.
Humans Only: A Jake Dani Novel (Jake Dani/Mike Shapeck Book 2) Page 9
