by Nat Kozinn
“Thank you, young man. You did the right thing, trust me. We’re after some bad eggs here, and those records might hold the key to tracking them down. Don’t tell anyone I told you, but we think they might be hiding Tranq in the food deliveries coming to the Metro Area. These are real bad guys, the kind that sell to kids, and we might catch them thanks to your help,” Ben whispers that last part so the receptionist feels like he’s in on the made-up secret.
“Really? Wow,” the receptionist says, his terror melting into a puddle of pride.
Ben gives the kid a nod, and then walks past the desk. Halfway down the hall, his head starts spinning, and he puts his hand on the wall to regain his balance. It’s an unfortunate side effect of Ben’s efforts to clog up the think.Net system. Ben has been and continues to make hundreds of think.Net calls a minute using his collection of fake accounts. His inner monologue is split into hundreds of different voices, each making a talk request to another of his accounts. His brain has barely enough power left to keep him walking in a straight line. It doesn’t help that he’s physically exhausted from climbing all over the Slug tracks this morning and disabling junction boxes.
Ben doesn’t have any better options, even considering the near-crippling fatigue. If he didn’t jam up the local think.Net node then the kid at reception would have insisted on calling his superiors, superiors who would likely have a firmer grasp on the legal precedents requiring officers to have warrants to force their way onto the premises. It would have worked its way up the Ultracorps chain of command; maybe even Nita herself would get involved.
Ben straightens himself out and continues on into the record keeping room, a little more slowly now. Once he’s inside the office, his excitement gives him a second wind. Ben starts tearing through filing cabinets and folders with surprising speed for a man whose attention is divided in a hundred different directions. This records room has more information than Ben could have hoped for.
He finds delivery receipts then cross references them with accounts receivable, and for a little added excitement, the quarterly earnings reports. He starts with the last three months but soon expands that to six months, and then the whole year. Somewhere along the way he adds accounts payable into the mix, to really get the party going.
Ultracorps recently reprinted all of these records after they were destroyed in the lab bombing. This office was only opened in the last few weeks. That might mean Nita didn’t have a chance to go back over everything with a fine tooth comb. Long shots are the only targets Ben has left.
It’s unlikely Nita made a mistake, being sloppy is not really part of her DNA, but there’s always a chance. She might not have planned on the second most powerful mind on earth auditing her records. If The Beast is being held in the Metro Area, then he will need to be fed, and that takes an enormous number of calories. Nita’s not going to advertise the whereabouts of her secret prison/lab, but any facility that saw a large uptick in food deliveries is a possible location. Food has to be delivered into the Metro Area before it’s dispersed to the various Ultracorps offices. That could be the weak point in any record keeping shenanigans.
Ben is so deeply engrossed in his forensic accounting, he doesn’t hear the commotion in the hallway, a commotion that is headed his way.
“What the hell do you mean there’s an FBI agent in our records room? Who told you to let him in there? Did he have a warrant? I’m late to work one time and this whole place falls apart!” a gruff voice yells.
The owner of the voice, a stone-faced sixty-year-old Ultracorps executive, charges into the office. He’s greeted by the sight of Ben sitting on the floor in a messy sea of papers. To the uninformed eye, Ben looks like a toddler who made a mess in daddy’s office, not a genius putting together the intricate pieces of a financial puzzle.
“What in God’s name is going on here?” the executive demands.
“Hello, sir. Please excuse the mess, it’s part of a Federal investigation,” Ben says without looking up from the paper in his hands.
“Are you kidding me? It looks like a bomb went off in here. I’m going to see a warrant this instant or there will be hell to pay.” Unlike the receptionist, this man is too self-important to be intimidated by a possible FBI agent.
“Of course, sir. I have it right here.”
Ben gets to his feet and approaches the executive while reaching into his suit pocket. Once he’s right next to the executive, Ben pulls out a length of ForteSilk rope. He uses his other hand to strike like a cobra, right at the man’s neck, hitting a nerve cluster which drops the older man to his knees. Ben flips the executive onto his belly and hogties him with the grace of a rodeo champion. The entire assault and restraint take less than five seconds.
“What do you think you’re doing? My lawyer is going to have a field day with this. When it’s all over you won’t be able to get a job guarding—” the executive’s voice is muffled by a wad of blue pinstriped fabric Ben tears off his suit and uses to gag the older man.
Ben returns to work at his unique style of accounting. A few minutes later, the previously terrified receptionist from the front works up the courage to go see what happened to his superior in the back room. He spots his boss hogtied and gagged in the corner and yells out “Mr. Peabody!” Five seconds later he lays bound and gagged next to the executive.
Three hours and several paper cuts later, the receptionist and executive have been joined by a dismayed security guard, who will probably lose his job, and two nice older ladies who work in the accounting office. Ben used the utmost care while tying those two up and made sure the ForteSilk wasn’t too tight. All of the homemade gags torn off of his suit have reduced the once fine attire to tattered rags.
Ben finally finds what he is looking for, a discrepancy in the accounting records, and it is on a much larger scale than he expected. Ultracorps has records of large food deliveries to Governor Khan’s grocery store chains Eat-N-Go. Manna products, but also rice, flour, beans and so forth. Most people would look at these records and shrug, but most people didn’t also see Khan’s grocery store records, or have Ben’s photographic memory. He notices that the Ultracorps records are for double what Khan’s records say they ordered. That means half of these food orders are going somewhere else. There are delivery logs in a separate file which show mysterious shipments being unloaded at a storage depot near the train yards. Presumably, this is where all the chow is going.
It’s too much food for The Beast alone, it’s enough to feed hundreds maybe thousands. Nita is going to be in so much trouble. Ben heads out of the office, his mouth salivating at the prospect of all the Nita schemes he’s going to thwart.
28
The tragedy at Ultracorps Labs serves as a reminder of the pitfalls of relying on Different labor. While Ultracorps has been a boon in helping this nation recover from the Plagues, it was a band-aid for an emergency situation. For those of us old enough to remember automobiles, I liken the situation to using a “donut.” For my younger readers, a “donut” was used to replace a flat tire on your car. These wheels were designed to be used temporarily, long enough for you to drive to the mechanic and get a new full-size tire. If you drove too far, the “donut” would blow. The explosion at Ultracorps proves that it’s time to stop relying on stop-gap solutions and turn back to traditional human industry.
“Time for Solutions” by Roberta Clemens, Los Angeles Times
The gap between roofs is about thirty feet. I should be able to jump over it with ease. I take a running start and leap into the air. I end up jumping at least fifty feet, taking me clear over the roof. I smash into the side of the building next to my target and land in the alley with a thud.
I’d say I misjudged my jump a tad. On the plus side, that fall would have broken more than a few bones in my old body. My new body merely suffers some minor bruising, and considering my new cells regenerate so much faster, the bruises will be gone in a few minutes. I’m trying to focus on the bright side.
Instead o
f jumping between the roofs I decide I’ll walk the last few blocks to the warehouse. Walking is still its own form of adventure, though I’m slowly getting the hang of it. As long as I stay focused, I can keep from tripping over my own two feet. I have to move slowly so I can walk and keep my eyes peeled for Walters. I don’t want Nita to know we’re on to her. There shouldn’t be any out here near the Slug yards, but she might be using them as an alarm system of sorts.
This would be a good place to keep The Beast. There’s easy access to the Slug in case Nita decides to move him, and no one lives out here because of all the noise from the trains.
I get to the block where I’m supposed to meet Ben. For once, he isn’t wearing one of his ridiculous disguises, just normal jeans and a T-Shirt. No chin putty or makeup at all. He sees me coming, and his eyes light up as he runs to meet me.
“Look at you! You’re magnificent,” Ben says as he pokes me in the arm like I’m a science project. “Was it difficult? I can only imagine what it’s like to grow a whole new body. On second thought, I can’t even imagine.”
“It took a while. I’ve still got a few kinks I’m working out. It’s not an easy process to describe,” I answer.
“You passed on growing The Beast’s fur, claws, and teeth. Can’t say I blame you. It should keep children from running away at the sight of you. You could pass as a garden-variety Strong-Man, albeit a completely hairless one…”
Ben could go on talking forever, but then he looks up and sees my face. I’m making sure to furrow my brow and squint my eyes to show my annoyance. I hope I’m doing it right.
“I’ll address the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room,” Ben says when he sees my look. “I was surprised by the call. You weren’t too happy with me the last time we spoke, what with the whole secretly following you thing.”
“I want to find The Beast, and I knew I could count on you not to let the issue go. It’s too juicy a chance to expose Nita. Enemy of my enemy and all that.”
“What did Nita say when you left the hospital?” Ben asks, turning the conversation to his obsession as quickly as possible.
“She didn’t say anything. I spoke to her once the whole time I was recovering. She asked me a few questions about how things were going and ended the call as soon as I asked where The Beast was. Larry was the only one there when I left. He wanted me to stay and recover and said something cryptic about seeing me soon, but he wasn’t exactly in a position to keep me from leaving.”
“Who would be? You’re quite the specimen,” Ben says and raps his fingers on my chest.
“Which warehouse is it? Where is The Beast?” I ask.
“That one,” Ben says and points. “You see, I was able to infiltrate the new Ultracorps records office using one of my characteristically brilliant disguises. I impersonated an FBI officer and was able to… You don’t care. The gist is that Ultracorps has been over-reporting orders to grocery stores all over the Metro Area. Those stores have been getting half the deliveries, yet no one’s complaining. By digging around transport logs and the like, I was able to determine that the food deliveries were getting rerouted here. It should be more than enough to feed The Beast a hundred times over, even if he’s regrowing a hand. Can he do that?”
“I don’t know.”
“If we can prove that Nita’s been hiding The Beast, she’ll be finished. There’s no wiggling out of keeping a mass murderer alive and hidden. Hell, with all the food that’s being sent here, she might be keeping a hundred secret prisoners. We might find Jimmy Hoffa down there. It’s good you called me when you did. I was going in soon no matter what, but backup won’t hurt. Let’s go take her down.”
“You mean make sure a dangerous sociopath can’t be released to wreak havoc again?” I ask.
“Sure, that too. Let’s keep it quiet until we find him. I’m sure Nita has a plan B in case of being discovered, and I’d rather not find out what it is,” Ben says in a whisper.
“We need to be careful, Nita knows we’re working together, this could be a setup.”
“When I’m dealing with Nita, I assume everything could be a setup. Just stay on your toes. It’s the best you can do,” Ben says under his breath. He’s got some serious ego issues, which isn’t very surprising considering his job was stolen by a little girl.
We start to tiptoe, but that’s not really something I’ve mastered yet. My massive feet pound the pavement like a large herd animal. That’s basically what I am now that I weigh eight hundred pounds.
“Seriously? It sounds like there’s an elephant behind me. Couldn’t The Beast stalk his prey without making a sound?” Ben asks.
“I told you, I’m still working out the kinks,” I reply.
“I’m guessing you’re not willing to wait out here while I reconnoiter, so that rules out the stealth plan. We’ll have to go with our own plan B, shock and awe. Why don’t you make us a surprise entrance through one of the walls? You can handle that right?”
“Even if I don’t mean to.”
I step up to the wall of the warehouse, wind up and swing. My massive fist cuts through the B-Crete wall like it’s paper. Filled with confidence from my punch, I lower my shoulder and charge. I bust through the wall like a football player breaking through a banner on game day. I’m a freaking powerhouse. It feels good to experience the upside of my new abilities.
Ben follows through the hole. The warehouse is gigantic. I didn’t realize how large it was from the outside. There are endless rows of shelves that stretch up to the top of twenty-foot ceiling. Each shelf is full of massive shipping containers that came straight off of trans-continental delivery trains.
“What is all this?” I ask.
“Beats me. It certainly doesn’t look like a secret prison. There must be a basement or something where they’re holding The Beast,” Ben says, his eyes already beginning his search.
“I want to know what’s in these containers.”
I go up to the closest shelf and start prying open one of the large Pho-Plastic containers. I’m stopped by a series of loud booms coming from deep in the warehouse. It sounds like I do when I walk, only more deafening. The sound is getting louder. Whoever—or whatever—it is, it’s getting closer.
“Do you hear that?” I ask and turn to Ben, but he’s not there. He seems to have disappeared entirely.
The booming footsteps keep getting louder until their source comes into view, a massive Strong-Woman. She might be the largest person I’ve ever seen. She looks like she’s got about a thousand pounds on me, which puts her close to a ton. She stops about fifty feet away from me, and I hone in on her tattoo. Lisa Bryant: Beta: Physically Enhanced. I put my hands up to show I don’t want a fight.
“Who are you!? What are you doing here!?” the massive woman demands.
“Relax, Lisa. I’m not here to hurt anyone or steal anything. I’m looking for someone, someone dangerous.”
“How do you know my name?” Lisa asks with a hint of panic.
“I read it off your tattoo. I have excellent vision.”
“You don’t look like someone with Enhanced Senses. You look like a Strong-Man to me, a small one maybe, but definitely a Strong-Man.”
“I’m both, well, kind of. It’s complicated.”
“I’d ask you to show me your tattoo, but even my eyes can see you don’t have one. Care to explain?” she demands.
“I lost my tattoo as a result of a recent medical procedure.. It’s the same reason my Differentiation is difficult to describe right now.”
“Is that so?” Lisa says switching to the calm tone one would use when talking to a crazy person. “Maybe it’d be a good idea for you to go back and see the doctor who performed your ‘procedure.’ In any case, whoever you are, you need to leave here right now.”
I slow down time to consider my options. I’m sure Ben would tell me not to give her my name or any other information because then Nita will know we were here. But honestly, the cat is already out of the bag on that. If t
his woman files an incident report, you wouldn’t have to be the smartest person alive like Nita to figure out that the giant hairless man seen in your warehouse is the same one that just left your medical facility.
“My name is Gavin Stillman. I’m with the Office of Exceptional Cases. I have reason to believe that The Beast may be held in this building. I’m here to find him,” I say with all the authority I can muster.
“Oh, you’re The Beast Slayer you say? I thought I recognized you from the papers. You know, usually they say the camera adds ten pounds, but I guess in your case it took off about six hundred instead,” Lisa mocks.
“I know how crazy it sounds, but I am Gavin Stillman. I underwent a procedure to give me some of The Beast’s abilities, which is why I look like this. The Beast was involved, which is how I know he’s alive and might be here. Are there any secure rooms? Maybe a basement?”
“That doesn’t sound crazy at all. You’re totally right, this is a combination storage warehouse and monster prison. Great work, Sherlock.”
“It’s possible that you don’t know about the holding facility. The person who is keeping The Beast alive does not want him found for obvious reasons.”
“Of course.”
“If you could let me look around, I might be able to find it.”
“Listen crazy, you aren’t doing anything like that. Now I don’t want to hurt you, but I will if you don’t turn around and walk out of here in the next three seconds,” Lisa says and her eyes go cold.
“Please, you have to believe me. The Beast is going to kill again. It’s a matter of time.”
“One… Two… Three,” Lisa says.
We stare at each other for a second. Then Lisa breaks into a run, barreling towards me like a bat out of hell.
I slow down time again so I can make a plan. Even if I had forever, I don’t think I could come up with a better option than getting the hell out of the way. I bend my legs and jump. Surprise, surprise, I misjudge my leap and end up crashing into a row of shelves. I hit hard, which stuns me for a moment, but the blow from my leap is nothing compared to the Strong-Woman’s punch. She hits me with an uppercut that sends me hurtling two hundred feet deeper into the warehouse. I land, bounce, and skid into another row of shelves.
