by Michael Bray
"Come on Youness, let's go," Akhtar said, holding a trembling hand out towards his brother.
Youness looked at it, still confused as to what was happening. Reluctantly, he grabbed Akhtar's hand, and the two boys stood, Akhtar having to hunch over in the small tunnel.
"Let's see if we can find a way out," he said as they walked, immediately noticing that rather than stay level, the tunnel seemed to decline, sending them deeper below ground level. As they inched further into the foul smelling underground, Akhtar couldn't shake the feeling that what they had experienced was just the beginning, and things were about to get much, much worse.
CHAPTER NINE
GENTEC LABORATORY
WASHINGTON D.C
FROM THE OUTSIDE, GENARO’S lab looked like nothing more than a modern glass and steel building on the outskirts of Washington DC. As one of the many unlisted government buildings located all over the United States, its purpose was neither advertised nor queried and ran mostly off the books. Genaro's research which started off in the office of the home he used to share with his late wife and funded by the little cash he could beg or borrow from those showing interest in his work, had grown into a laboratory covering five hundred square feet of real estate and contained the very latest (and most expensive) equipment which was provided to Genaro without question upon request. A lot of the equipment he didn’t actually need and were the result of the early weeks when the budget cap on his project was lifted. He ordered the most expensive equipment he could, not because he would need it, but because for the first time he was able to be so indulgent and wanted to see just how much leash he would be given. His staff of forty was made up of some of the brightest brains in genetic research, and all answered directly to him.
What his staff weren’t aware of, was the secondary laboratory which was accessed via Genaro's office and located in the sub-basement. It was here where his own private research took place, away from the prying eyes of his staff who he knew were only a stolen idea away from being rivals. It was here, in the fifty-foot square lab space where Joshua was being held. The holding chamber was made of bulletproof Lexan, which was the same material which was used in the Popes bubble car and the presidential limousine. Joshua lay on his bunk, slender hands folded behind his head. He glanced towards the door as it opened and Genaro walked in accompanied by two men who he recognised. Curious, he stood and watched them approach.
"Is this him?" Genaro said to Robbins.
"Yeah, that’s the guy," Robbins grunted, walking to within inches of the reinforced Perspex and looking Joshua in the eye.
"You were at Camp Blanding," Joshua said, a flicker of a smile on his lips.
"Yeah, I was. I saw what you did to those men. Our men."
"They started it. I did try to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen.”
"Don’t try to justify it you prick, you killed them in cold blood."
“To call it cold blood would imply I cared. I can assure you, that wasn’t the case. It was an unfortunate accident.”
"Don’t give me that crap. Trust me, you'll get the chair for this. Executed like you deserve." Robbins grunted.
"I don’t think so," Joshua said, letting the smile grow to its full width. "I don’t think so at all."
"Commander Robbins," Genaro said, cutting in before Robbins could respond. "I think it might be a good idea to go upstairs and get some fresh air."
"Yeah, I think so too," Robbins said, glaring at Joshua. “Just remember what I said, asshole. You’ll fry for this.”
Genaro waited until the commander made his leave, then grabbed his tattered desk chair, rolled it in front of Joshua's holding cell and sat down.
"How are you, Joshua?" He asked, taking off his glasses and slipping them into his breast pocket.
"I’ve been here for almost seven hours now. This is the first time you've been to visit me. Have I offended you so much?"
"I’ve been busy. There is nothing personal in it."
"I’m sure you have," Joshua replied, sitting on the edge of his bunk, watching the scientist carefully.
"Your hair got long," Genaro said, an almost wistful smile forming on his ancient face.
"I’m growing it."
"It goes well with the beard."
"I know."
"You look very....biblical."
Joshua smiled and folded his hands together. For a moment, Genaro thought he was praying, then saw that he was, in fact, waiting for the scientist to go on.
"Look, Joshua, you’ve caused a lot of trouble and there are people who are demanding answers. Now you and I have a history, and I hoped you would open up to me and explain your actions. Believe it or not, I don’t want to see you hurt. I want to help you."
"I appreciate that Doctor Genaro. You were always good to me. My father always said you were a good man." Joshua’s smile was warm and genuine as he spoke, his voice amplified through the speaker on the front of the cell.
"Then let me help you. Of anyone, you know I won’t hurt you. You know how much I appreciate what you did for me by volunteering for the Apex programme." Genaro said.
"Yes, I know you have good intentions. I also know I mean more to you alive than dead. But you need to understand, that I’m not the naive boy you remember who started this journey. Things have changed."
“I mean no disrespect. I think of you as a son. You know that.”
“And in a way, I am. You took the boy I was and turned me into the man I am. Mary Shelley would be proud.”
“You’re no monster, Joshua. No matter what they tell you.”
“Nor was the creature in the Shelley novel. He was a bright, misunderstood individual who was feared because he dared to be what his creator had made. Only when the book was translated to film did he become grotesque and frightening. I wonder if this tale will have a similar conclusion.”
"I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect, I'm just doing as I was asked. As I said, I want to help you."
“And to do that, you need information, I presume?”
Genaro nodded. Joshua smiled. "You want to know how it's working, don't you?"
"I'd be lying if I said no. They shipped you off to Afghanistan before I could see the results. You have no idea how I fought to have them leave you behind so I could continue to work with you.”
"Yes, I never understood why they sent me off to a war zone so quickly. I suppose the governments of the world wanted a return for their investment, to try out their new toy. Still, this isn't quite how I imagined us meeting again. I’m unsure if I’m disappointed or not."
Genaro readjusted his position in the creaky seat, captivated by his charismatic prisoner.
"Your father was so proud of you for helping us to make this a reality, or, at least, he was until he found out how they intended to utilise you."
"Yes, he told me the military should value my brain rather than my trigger finger." Joshua's eyes glazed over as he said it, and he averted his gaze. "Of course, he had no idea exactly what you had done to me. I suppose it was my fault for expecting anything else."
Genaro squirmed. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and then stared at the desk full of papers as he searched for the right words.
"I know why I'm here, Doctor Genaro. I also knew they would bring me back here, to you, to this place. I have to admit, I preferred it when it was less cluttered with people and equipment."
"It's the downside of progression I'm afraid. After seeing your initial test results, Project Apex suddenly became interesting to those who had been so desperate to close us down before."
Joshua nodded and watched the scientist, waiting for him to find a way to ask the question he really wanted to. Realising it wasn't going to come without prompting, Joshua decided to help, if only because time was so short, even if those outside of the cell didn’t know it yet.
"Do you remember my IQ when I first started the Apex treatment?"
"Of course," Genaro said. "I read your file so many times it became second nature. Y
ou scored 109 as I remember. High end of average, just a hair below superior."
"Yes, I remember. Would you like to know what it is now?"
"I would," Genaro said, the scientist in him unable to help himself.
"Just after I was shipped out to Afghanistan I tested at a hundred and twenty-two. I did another test recently and scored a hundred and fifty-nine."
"Such an improvement is impossible, that puts you in the Einstein range."
"Not quite, he was around a hundred and eighty I believe. Although, if you were to test me now, I wouldn't be surprised if it had grown again. I suppose I have you to thank for that. ‘Behold the great Creator makes himself a house of clay, a robe of virgin flesh he takes which he will wear for ay."
“What was that?” Genaro said, unable to help but smile.
“Thomas Pestel, circa fifteen eighty-six to sixteen-sixty, I believe.”
“You believe me to be this creator?”
Joshua nodded. “Yes. You moulded your house of clay on my innocence. I suppose I thought it might be a fitting reference to this situation.”
Genaro flushed and lowered his eyes, staring at his scuffed leather shoes. "The serum shouldn't have been so potent,” Genaro said, shaking his head. “It was supposed to be a steady and controlled increase. Nobody expected it to bond so completely and quickly with its host."
"Ahh, but you made one critical error, or, more accurately, oversight," Joshua said, standing and pacing the room, hands clasped behind his back.
"We know something went wrong, my team and I just don't know what exactly."
"Wrong?" Joshua said, pausing and staring at Genaro with raised eyebrows.
"Yes. No disrespect intended, of course, but based on the initial intention of the project, I think it’s a fair assessment."
"I disagree. In fact, I think you have developed something which will go on to change the future of mankind for the better, even if it seems that wasn’t your intention.”
"That was my hope, but the government have pulled our funding. Backed out. Project Apex is done."
"I sense a little bitterness in your voice, Doctor. I take it you blame me for this?"
"Not just you, no,” Genaro said with a shake of his head.
"You mean the incident at Blanding? They were given every opportunity to avoid a confrontation, and instead, they pushed and pushed and pushed." Joshua hissed, lashing out and punching the steel frame of the holding cell.
"Calm down, please," Genaro said, fear for the first time coming ahead of his thirst for knowledge. "This isn't like you, Joshua, you were always so calm."
Joshua was glaring, eyes wild, breathing in ragged gasps. Blood wept from his knuckles where he had punched the wall. Genaro had no doubt despite their previously close relationship; Joshua would have killed him if not for the physical barrier between them. Taking a deep breath, Joshua sat on the bunk, elbows on knees, head hanging low.
"I'm sorry about that," He whispered, his voice barely picked up by the two-way intercom. "Another side effect of your treatment I'm afraid.
"The aggression?"
"It seems along with enhancing my physical attributes, it also increased my testosterone output to dangerous levels. Anger. Aggression. Violence. These things which were once so alien to me are now part of my nature. Your product is brilliant, Doctor Genaro, but it is also flawed. All part of the balance of nature, I suppose."
"Then let me help you, let me go back and fix it."
"You can't fix it, we both know that. It’s a part of me now and that can't be changed."
"The alternative is death. You must understand that?” Genaro said, desperation creeping into his voice. “Please, Joshua, my superiors’ want an example made of you. If I can prove to them your actions were the fault of the product, we can delay any decision indefinitely. I can save your life and stop them from sentencing you to death."
Joshua smiled, and Genaro wondered why he looked so unconcerned. "I appreciate the sentiment, Dr. Genaro, but I'm afraid I won't be staying long enough for those government pigs to get their hands on me."
"I don't see how you have a choice."
"There's always a choice, doctor. Always." He replied the sinister edge to his voice impossible to ignore. "After all, isn’t that how this all began? With a choice? You see life is all about perspective. Finding a hundred dollar bill on the street to a poor man might change his life, and yet a rich man would give the same amount as a tip in a fancy restaurant without a second thought. Do you remember when I first came here? How afraid I was to have the injection and you put a hand on my shoulder and told me I could change the world?"
Genaro nodded, trying to decide if he was more fascinated or afraid.
"I didn't know what you meant, at first, but as my strength increased and my weaknesses faded away, I started to see the world in a new perspective. I saw it for the first time with open eyes. I saw how fragile man is, and how much better it could be. I see a different future for this planet, Doctor Genaro. One free of the current mindless creatures which pollute it on a daily basis."
"That sounds like something Hitler would have said,” Genaro whispered. “Come on Joshua, no one man can change the world, as much as we would like to. Sure enough, we may not like the way mankind behaves, but that’s part of life. We just have to deal with it. No man has the power to change that."
"An ordinary man, no. But we both know I'm no ordinary man."
A tightness in Genaro's gut brought a fresh surge of fear at the calm and casual manner in which Joshua was speaking.
“What do you mean?” Genaro asked.
“I’m talking about wiping the slate clean, Doctor Genaro. Starting again. The world is a mess. Wars. Disease. Famine. Global warming. People killing each other to fight over scraps whilst the rich buy real estate and overpriced art just because they have more money than they could ever spend. The world is unbalanced. It’s broken.”
“You can’t fix it, Joshua. It’s impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible. You told me that once.”
“Let’s say you could if you had the infrastructure and the ability to make people listen. How would you do it?”
Joshua smiled, the expression without any emotion whatsoever which made Genaro cold. “Like I said, I’d wipe the slate clean.”
“How. Exactly how?”
Joshua leaned closer to the Lexan, smiling at Genaro. “I wish I could tell you, but it seems we are out of time.”
"I don’t understand. Out of time for what?"
Joshua smiled and lay down on his bunk. "As I said, I won't be staying and letting those pigs get their hands on me. My brothers will be here for me soon. I know they will."
"Nobody knows you are here. Face it Joshua, they won't find you. You will either let me help you, or you will be sent to trial and executed. It's your choice." Genaro barked, the fear in him manifesting as anger.
"I wish you could see things as I do. Do you think I'd be here now if I didn't allow myself to be taken?" Joshua almost looked sad that Genaro didn’t see the bigger picture.
"The extraction team would have taken you anyway. There was no way out of those tunnels."
"No, they wouldn't. My brothers were willing to die for me. We could have fought them off with ease if we had so chosen."
"So you let them capture you?"
“Of course,” Joshua said with a thin smile
“Why would you do that?”
"Because I had to come back."
"Why?"
"For you."
Genaro froze, staring open-mouthed at Joshua, who stood and approached the Perspex, stopping inches from it.
"Why me?" Genaro whispered.
"Because it's your project. I want you to see what the world could be. I want you to join my cause. I want you to be everything you can be," he held his fist up to the glass as he said it, wiping away the blood to show the wounds on his knuckles had already almost completely healed.
"Listen to yourself Jo
shua, I know you believe what you're saying, but its madness. The virus has done something to you, given you some kind of unknown side effects, maybe some kind of narcissism complex. We can fix it, you and me together just like at the beginning.”
"I understand how difficult it must be to believe me. Which is why I'm willing to ask you again when you know for sure I speak the truth."
"I don't understand."
"You will."
"How?"
A dull thud followed by the sound of screams and broken glass drifted to them from upstairs.
"Because they're here," Joshua whispered as Genaro stood and backed towards the wall.
II
Draven had read and re-read the file and was utterly convinced he was right. He glanced at his watch, then to Goodall who sat on the opposite side of the aisle from him.
"How long until we land?"
"Still twenty minutes yet. Relax." She said, half wishing for the return of the less uptight version of Draven.
"You don't understand, we need to get there now. If these notes are accurate, I need to speak to Genaro right away."
"Do you want me to try the video link again?"
"Please. Anything you can do to get in touch with them."
She stood and tried without success to establish a link, then with a frown headed towards the front of the plane. "Wait here, I'll see if I can radio in," she said, before disappearing through the curtain.
