There was a computer center and several call centers, and emails were being received from all over the world. The Council of Elders, the Great Council, and everyone else in a position of authority had been taken by surprise. For the most part anyway.
Paulo’s first questions were who was missing, what did his people know and what information could be verified at this point?
“What we know for a fact is the following:
About one thousand five hundred employees at the six Labs were absent from work yesterday. On a typical day absenteeism for all six facilities is about ten. Occasionally, a few more when there are seminars or professional duties.”
Demitri continued, “In Princeton, there were about three hundred, which included Charles Hanley and much of the IT staff. His seminar was bogus, as were all the call-in excuses by every employee.”
“How do we know that?”
“Email. Everything was in writing. The three hundred or so no shows have since disappeared. We should be able to find their whereabouts eventually, but we don’t have any information as we speak. This includes Calista Gold in Chicago. A few employees did have a real reason for being away. That totals four. They’ve been contacted and located. Nothing to report.”
“Apparently, Saldana Ri has gained control of our email employee list, as well as the master list for the US. She’s already sent out propaganda about the attack, you, and the various leadership councils. She is now claiming a following of over fifty million in the Gens Collective.”
“Could that possibly be true, or is she just manufacturing a number to look like she has a bigger following than she actually does?”
“I’d say the number is greater than one and less than fifty-one million. But if the number of defectors from the Labs is any indication, her number might be far higher than we ever suspected. Certainly, we know that there are a lot of disgruntled Gens in the Collective; just how many hear a call to action is unclear. There’s always grumbling. Not too much action, though. Never has been.”
“What else?”
“Verified dead are as follows. At the Labs, slightly over two thousand from all areas of R&D. At the affected Preserves, over sixty thousand and rising rapidly. We estimate eighty thousand total dead. Some Preserves are large and some of our kind have been living in the adjacent wildernesses. They may be affected, or only those physically present in the Preserves. The survivors say that airplanes were flying in a long grid pattern, dropping canisters that seemed to explode at about three or four thousand feet, then it rained some sort of projectile. Penetrated the hide and exploded. Very deadly and very efficient.”
“Have you collected any spent or unexploded rounds?”
“None. And nothing from the dead. It’s like they exploded, then just disappeared.”
“I want a hundred bodies flown in from each Preserve to our closest Gens morgues with full autopsies performed. I want to know what exactly killed our kind.”
“Will do.”
“What else?”
“The members of the Great Council, and Council of Elders wish to speak to you. So too do the leaders of the Tracker, Captain, and military classes. That’s in addition to just about every other Gens around the world. We need to put a lid on this before it gets out of control; the populace needs reassurance and calm. Our response needs to emphasize that we know what happened and have decided on a course of action. Need not be true right now, but the sooner we lay this panic to rest the better.”
“Advice on priorities?”
“Great Councils, then the field people. The field folk wants retribution. They have no idea what they’re talking about. And this weapon the humans have, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. If they have more, then we’re in for it.”
“Collateral damage? To humans, wildlife?”
“Zero, none. Only killed our kind.”
“What? That cannot be.”
“And yet it is.”
“What else?”
“Saldana Ri called. Wants a word.”
“Any chance we can send her to the afterlife? And soon?”
“We would have to find her first.”
“Where’d the call come from?”
“Mozambique.”
“Seriously?”
“According to our trace. But it was probably just routed through there. She’s probably hiding in plain sight in Dallas, for all we know.”
“I don’t think I have to say it, but we need to find her. Any thoughts?”
“Nope. I was hoping you might. What about your brother? He’s in a holding cell.”
“Bring him in. I want this part over right now.”
***
Demiti brought in Enzo, still cuffed and now shackled. He looked like a dangerous prisoner, although he seemed unfazed by his situation. He was seated at the conference room table, two guards stationed behind him, with Paulo and Demitri on the opposite side facing him.
“What have you to say for yourself, little brother,” said Paulo.
“I think it’s I who should be asking you why I am detained and in shackles. What’s this all about, Paulo? Has this mutt poisoned you against me?”
“No. No, he hasn’t. In fact, Demitri has been neutral in this matter. The evidence came from the Human. Not to accuse you but to accuse us.”
“What evidence and about what?”
“You heard about the bombing in London, I expect?”
“All over the news. Hard not to hear about it. But do I know about it, no. What’s any of that got to do with any of this?”
“The bomb maker was a human. One of Derek’s fighters. Ex-military, I’m told. Now deceased.”
Enzo could see where this was going.
“His Gens partner was Vincent Romano. Know him?”
“You know I do. He’s our cousin. So, what?”
“He called Derek right after the bombing to confirm the kill.”
“Again, so what? What has this to do with me?”
“There were emails sent to you and from you. A paper trail of funds from Princeton to Derek authorized by you. Then, after the event, Derek decided it was time to run.”
“I had nothing to do with this, any of it.”
“The funds authority was yours. You signed the papers for Charlie who effected the transfer. The emails were on a private account and encrypted. Looks bad, brother mine.”
“OK, then where’s Charles now?”
“In the wind.”
“So, emails from an encrypted account and I’ll bet nothing else on the server, am I right? Only these few emails. Then an incriminating funds approval to a guy who’s disappeared. Seriously, Paulo, doesn’t it even seem a little suspicious to you?”
“Or sloppy,” said Demitri. “Sometimes a rose is just a rose, wouldn’t you agree?”
“I’d agree that if I wasn’t in leg irons right now, you’d be dead.” Enzo faked a lunge, just to see if Demitri would flinch. He did not. As Paulo looked on, he wasn’t sure who would come out on top of that contest. His brother was fierce and fearless. Demitri was lethal. The bout would surely be entertaining; but with what Paulo knew about Enzo, unknown to the entire Gens Collective but him, Demitri would be dead.
Enzo continued, “And, you got this from the Human, right? Nothing suspicious there, I guess.”
“The human wasn’t accusing you. He was accusing us. Me. Whether you did it, or Saldana Ri did it does not matter to him. We, the Gens, did it. We, the Gens, must pay. So, you think this is a frame up, is that your defense?”
“No, Paulo, it’s not my ‘defense’. It’s the truth and I don’t need a defense since I didn’t do anything wrong. But as far as we are concerned, it’s a frame job and that should be patently clear to even you, Paulo. Even to that goon you keep on a leash.”
“The Derek connection?”
“Since when was my friendship with the Nobilus a secret? I make no apologies for who my friends are. It’s obvio
us that’s he’s been set up too. Better yet, why don’t you find him and bring him here. Let’s settle this like professionals.”
“Can’t.”
“Can’t Paulo, or won’t?”
“Can’t. He’s dead. Not sure how or by who, but he didn’t make it to his hotel in Nairobi, Kenya. The body was dumped somewhere near the airport and incinerated. Same with the human bomb maker too. Found in a garage in London, 9mm in the back seat, and two bullets resident in his brain cavity. And we can’t find Vincent.”
“And none of this sounds suspicious to you at all, right?”
“Well, I would say it smells of two equally plausible interpretations. You got rid of the evidence against you and quite capably. Plausibly, you’re guilty as hell and covering your tracks. Or someone else got rid of the evidence that can exonerate you. Plausibly, you’ve been framed. Truthfully, I have no idea where this one lands.”
“So?”
“So, back to the cells you go, Enzo until we discover more. We won’t send you and yours to the afterlife just yet, but I may. I will find the truth. If it’s as you conjecture, you’ll be a free man. But even if that’s true, I’d still leave town anyway, just to be on the safe side. A lot of folks in the Captain’s class would like you dead, no matter the issue of guilt. They just don’t trust you. Or like you.”
“And you, brother?”
“You’re my brother, and I love you. A human failing, I know. But you are reckless, brother. You cut corners and piss off the people around you. You’re imperious. You’re impatient and careless.”
“Wow. I suck.”
“No, you don’t. Like I said, I love you. You should also be aware that Helena and your kids are now confirmed missing are Bella and my kids.”
“How?”
“The Human, of course.”
Enzo just shook his head and said nothing, knowing what his fate might be. He rose, turned, and headed for the door and the Gens version of the perp walk back to his cell.
Chapter 52
Tim Jackson sat in the remodeled basement of his parents’ home along the rugged northwest coast of Washington’s Olympic Peninsula. He worked for a national chain of consumer electronics outlets in their computer repair service center. He was well-liked and extremely good at his job. He preferred working at home with all his own diagnostic tools that he had slowly, and meticulously assembled over the years.
He wasn’t a fictional prototypical computer nerd who couldn’t cut the apron strings with his parents, smoked a lot of weed in the basement and couldn’t get motivated to grow up. No, Tim was quite the opposite. The family stuck together because they felt they had to and Tim made more than enough money and could afford a lifestyle separate and apart from his folks.
But, he did smoke a lot of weed. And he did live in his parents’ basement.
The family moved to Washington State suddenly and quietly from their home in suburban Philadelphia where his father had been a teacher at a local High School, and his mother was a legal assistant at a small law firm. Tim went to High School, then college, first at the local JC, then at a State College. He earned a degree in Mathematics and couldn’t decide what to do with his life.
There was strife in his world and neither he nor his parents knew what to do about it. The choices offered the family were all bad, in their view, so they simply sold their home and possessions and dropped out. They wanted nothing to do with the politics of the day and decided that, as Americans, they had every right to just go away, start over, reinvent themselves and be left alone.
That largely is what would’ve happened, and what should’ve happened. But it wasn’t in fact what did happen.
Tim gathered the computers from his workbench, all bagged and tagged by customer name and by computer malady. His output was phenomenal, and the customer returns to the service center had been almost non-existent over the past few years. His supervisor, Chip Willis, was an affable young twenty-something who appreciated the work that Tim did but wondered why he so obviously worked at a job that was beneath his skill set. Still, Tim was a major profit center, so Chip kept his opinions to himself and happily counted his great good fortune.
Tim walked in the front double glass doors of the Superstore, hung a left and headed directly to the Computer Service Center. Tim spotted a new employee, an attractive young woman with jet black hair, who reminded him of a young Winona Ryder. She had streaks of purple in her hair, a torn-jeans look and colorful costume jewelry accenting her black t-shirt that read “FU, Buddy”. She wore a company smock over the ensemble, covering almost everything. Tim passed through the low swinging door separating customer area from workshop and headed back to the tech area.
“Excuse me,” the young woman said. “No customers allowed in this area.” She spied him suspiciously, noting the plastic storage container on wheels he was dragging behind him.
“I work here,” was all he said, moving away from the young woman tending the counter.
“What’s in your tote?” she asked.
“Where’s Chip?” was all he said, ignoring her question.
“Around,” was her curt reply. “My name is Rinna. Rinna Tewes. Who are you?”
“Who I am is no concern of yours, so save the small talk for the customers. I’m very busy and you can be a big help by asking fewer questions and letting me know where I can find Chip.”
Rinna got up from her stool and came up very close to Tim. “You’re…”
“Yes I am. So are you. So, what?”
“Take it easy there, bud. No need to be in such a snit. Wait here and I’ll go find Chip for you.”
A few minutes later, Chip came out of the storeroom with Rinna, who walked back to her stool and began talking to a customer.
Chip said, “So back already? That was quick, even for you.”
“Nothing that a few keystrokes couldn’t fix. I have a couple of things that will be running overnight, so I’ll have that stuff back to you tomorrow morning. Have anything else?”
“Couple of things the other techs can’t seem to get right. Care to have a look?”
“Sure.”
Chip said, “I see you met Rinna. Good girl and an excellent technician. I’ll move her up pretty soon.”
Tim shrugged his shoulders at the suggestion, indicating his complete indifference to anything unrelated to him and his work. In addition, he was immediately suspicious and didn’t like having one of his kind in town, where there should’ve been none, much less working for the same company in the same computer department.
When Tim left, Rinna came over to Chip an asked about Tim. What little Chip knew he shared, but he knew very little.
“Good guy though. I like him even though he can be a little rude and is often, you know, a little abrupt. Lives with his folks and still takes care of them. Good son.”
Rinna smiled and resolved to get to know Tim Jackson a little better.
***
Over the next few months that’s exactly what happened, as Rinna paid special attention to Tim, asking him to help her with minor personal stuff, moving furniture or shopping at the local hardware store. She didn’t need his help, which he knew, but they seemed to enjoy each other’s company, so Tim was consistently a willing helper.
“Can you come over tonight?”
“If you want. Need help with something?”
“Nope. Thought I’d make dinner for you and we can watch a movie. I can pop some popcorn and we can smoke some of your weed. What do you say? Our first date.”
“Why me? Lots of guys would like to go out with you. Half the guys at work, and the other half who are married are just lusting for ten minutes with you naked in the back room.”
Rinna smiled. “But they’re not you. Play your cards right and we can make out during the movie.”
Tim smiled and thought Rinna was just fucking with him. She was not.
“Dinner’s at five, but you can come over any time. I’m
up early and it’s my day off, so if you’d like to come over and spend the day, please do. Don’t be shy. I’m not.”
Rinna was a girl who had adapted well to her new life small town Washington. She liked Tim and thought they had much in common. However, they both had secrets, but only one had a secret agenda.
“How early is early? I’m usually up at four,” Tim said.
“Then bring weed and coffee. Then we can cuddle under the covers.”
***
Tim arrived at six the next morning, along with weed, coffee and a box of bagels and doughnuts. A very sleepy Rinna answered the door, smiled, and asked him to put his stuff in the kitchen then join her in the bedroom.
Rinna was still in bed when Tim arrived so she instructed him to get naked and under the covers to spoon with her. The Washington coast could be chilly year around in the early hours but even in sweltering summertime heat Tim would have gladly done as Rinna asked.
“Dreamy,” was all Rinna said as she felt the warmth of his body. Moments later she was asleep and so was Tim.
The day progressed nicely and, by dinnertime, Rinna had begun interrogating Tim as to where he grew up, his folks and what he had done before moving to Washington. The day had been peppered with Rinna showing Tim some new pastimes, all related to sex for which he was an appreciative and an avid learner. It was late when Tim decided to pull himself away from the events of the day. He hoped there would be more days and nights like today, but he needed to get home.
When he left, she dialed the phone.
“Yeah, it’s him. And the parents. Fits the background and profile to a T. What do you want me to do?”
“Keep him close. We’re sending a team up to pay them a visit. When they arrive, you can leave. Your work is done there.”
***
It was after dinner when Rinna called and asked if she could come over and talk to Tim. She wanted to meet his folks and said she was tired of waiting for him to ask. Tim thought nothing of it; Rinna had shown herself to be an aggressive woman in all matters and he had, after all, promised to introduce her to them.
“I’ll be over in a minute, so please be out of your dungeon, and pretend that you know me. Be nice. I want to get to know your folks. There aren’t many of us here on the Peninsula.”
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