by Paul Harry
“I’m sorry to hear that,” noted Maggie.
“Aye...”
Maggie scoured the data base further.
“I’m seeing here that we had a John Doe flown in from Henderson, Nevada, but the files are sealed. And unfortunately, I don’t have access. If you like, you can fill out a request form...” She handed Mickey a form. “And I can have my supervisor look it up when she gets back.”
“And when might that be?” Mickey asked.
Maggie glanced at the clock. It was 12:32. “Oh darn − she won’t be back until around four. She had a dentist appointment.”
Mickey was beside himself. “Oh, Lass,” he pleaded in his softest voice. “Aye’m supposed tae catch a plane at three twenty. Ken yah not mebbe find a way tae teel me where they sent ‘im? Aye’m just losin’ me mind thinkin’ ‘e might be lyin’ in sum hospital or foster ‘ome, someplace with no one tae give ‘im the love of family.”
Maggie glanced behind at one of the empty desks, and Mickey knew instantly she could get the information he needed−he was good at reading people. He just had to ply the right technique. He pressed her.
“Aye know that aye’m askin’ a lot, Maggie, it’s a personal request, but it’s important that aye find ‘im. Aye’ll teel yah what...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of money, counting out five twenties.
“Aye, know ‘ow expensive weddings ken be... even back in Scotland they cost a lot. Maggie, aye’d like tae give yah this as a gift, to ‘elp with the flowers and the cake. Ken yah not ‘elp me find me nephew?”
He pushed the money across the counter toward her. Maggie was sorely tempted, but afraid. What if somebody saw? Mickey knew the girl was on the edge, so he quickly threw in another hundred sealing the deal. Maggie stole a quick glance around the room, then swept the money off the counter and into her pocket. “I think I know where to get access,” she whispered.
Later that afternoon Mickey was flying high. Driving to the airport, he booked the first flight he could get to San Francisco. The timing was perfect. He would find the kid and kill him before the weekend was over. With any luck at all, he’d be back in Vegas before Benny knew he was gone. As he sat on the plane gazing out the window, he fingered the note in his pocket. He pulled it out one more time and re-read Maggie’s handwritten note:
DR. JOSEPH CURRY
125 N Jackson Ave., Suite 204
San Jose, CA 95112
(408) 911-9999
Mickey slipped the note back into his pocket and closed his eyes. If all went well he’d find this doctor’s office and grab the files on Daniel. His address was all he would need. The boy would be dead soon enough. He had to be. If Benny found out he was still alive, it would all be over. He just wished he had his knife−and some coke. Oh well, he could buy some when he got to Frisco.
* * * *
It was the Martin Luther King weekend and the end of winter break for Daniel and Katie−both were antsy to get back to school. The four weeks of break had been fantastic, but with Christmas long past and the weather chilly, they were eager to see their friends and teachers again and restart their studies. Presently, most of their time was spent with Rudy. The old man was keeping an eye on them while Ethyl worked. He loved their company and bored them to tears with his stories and exploits about living, working, and partying in Las Vegas. For Daniel, it was like being back home and he loved the fact that Rudy treated him like a normal kid.
Rudy’s basement looked like a miniature casino. The old man had a bar, a half dozen slot machines, flashing neon signs, a small one-man crap table and two blackjack tables, complete with felt, chips, cards and six deck shoes. Most of the time the equipment sat idle unless Rudy was entertaining, which he often did, but today he was giving another lesson to Katie and Daniel on how to win at Blackjack.
“So what-yah think kid?” asked Rudy, as he chomped on his unlit cigar. “Ya got a soft seventeen... dealer’s showing a six. Katie you’ve got fourteen...”
Katie jumped in. “I stand... right?” She waved him off.
“I’m going to double down,” said Daniel.
“Right yah are, kid. Come on, put your checks in action.”
Sliding his chips forward, Daniel doubled down while Rudy drew another card. He snapped a four on top of Daniel’s soft seventeen.
“Twenty-one kid. Very nice.” Rudy then proceeded to bust.
“I really love this game,” said Katie, raking in her chips.
“As long as you keep it in perspective,” noted Rudy. “Ya gotta play smart. I’ve seen too many people throw their lives away thinking they could take down the casino.”
“What about card counting?” asked Daniel, “... not that I could do it, being blind and all.”
“Most card counters beat themselves,” answered Rudy, matter-of-factly. “They draw too much attention to themselves by not drinking, playing too long and structuring their bets, and worst of all−most don’t tip! Blackjack is a superstitious game and you never want to piss off the dealer−so make sure you show some appreciation. It’s never good if yah got a dealer who wants to kick your butt because you’re too tight-assed to give a little − excuse my French. And most importantly, don’t draw unnecessary attention to yourself, keep it simple. If you get lucky and hit a streak, say thank you and get out the door. The secret to winning in a casino is leaving with the money.”
“You know what I wish?” interjected Katie. “I wish I could see the next card−like superman. That would be so cool.”
Rudy and Daniel laughed. “Yeah kid...” responded Rudy “... you and everybody else in the world.”
Unexpectedly, the phone rang, but Rudy didn’t seem to notice. On the third ring Katie spoke up. “Uncle Rudy... your phone’s ringing.”
“What?”
“Your phone...”
“Oh,” he responded. He tapped his finger on his hearing aid. “Must need a new battery.” The phone rang again. This time he heard it. “It’s probably the Nevada gaming commission,” he boasted. “I’ll be right back. Last month they needed my help spotting a dice cheater.”
Katie and Daniel laughed as he disappeared from view.
“Is he really going to take you to Reno during spring break?” asked Katie, in his absence.
Daniel grinned. “I hope so. Now that I’m legal I can play for real. I even got my ID from the DMV. It came yesterday.” He pulled it out and showed her.
“I wanna go...” whined Katie.
Daniel chuckled, then mimicked Rudy. “Sorry kid... yah ain’t twenty-one.”
Upstairs, in the hallway, Rudy answered his phone. The call was from Ethyl and the look on Rudy’s face was serious. “Yeah, Eth... sure I can bring him by... no... it’s not a problem. I’ll take her out for some ice cream or something. You don’t need to worry about nothin’.” He glanced at his watch. “We’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”
* * * *
The employee parking lot at Nanobytes was pretty much empty by the time Rudy arrived with the kids. Driving his restored 1970 Cadillac Eldorado, he followed Ethyl’s instructions and pulled around to the rear of the building where Ethyl was waiting. He stopped and parked−Katie was instantly out of the car and bouncing across the sidewalk.
“Hi, Nanna,” the young girl exclaimed, giving her Grandmother a quick hug.
“Hey, sweet pea,” replied Ethyl, squeezing her back.
“Wow, you should have seen me at blackjack,” she announced, excitedly. “I won twenty dollars−well, it wasn’t real money, but still, I was winning...” She then noticed her grandmother’s face−her eyes were red and puffy. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing, Darling, I’ve just had a hard day.” Ethyl said nothing else. Her eyes were glued on Daniel, watching him as he made his way around the car toward the sidewalk.
“Hey, Aunt Ethyl, what gives?” Daniel called out cheerfully as he joined the two.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she answered, giving him a quick kiss on the chee
k. “Daniel, would you excuse Katie and me for a moment.”
“Sure,” he replied.
Taking Katie by the hand, Ethyl walked her granddaughter back to the car while quietly talking to her.
“Katie, honey, I need to have a talk with Daniel, and Uncle Rudy has offered to take you out for some ice cream. You think you might give us a couple of hours? It’s important.”
Katie knew instantly that something was wrong. “Is he okay?” she asked, glancing over at Daniel−concern etched upon her face.
“Katie, I’m not going to lie. Dr Muller called. He wants to operate on Daniel’s eyes. It’s serious, but not life threatening−he’ll be okay. Now be a good girl and go have some ice cream. Daniel and I have a lot to talk about.”
Katie nodded her head. “Okay,” she replied, meekly. She opened the door to the car and climbed into the backseat, sitting behind Rudy who was waiting at the wheel.
Ethyl looked over to her dear friend. “Rudy... thanks,” she said, patting the old man on the arm.
“Anytime,” he answered, giving her a wave. He started the car and drove off, leaving Ethyl and Daniel behind.
“Well, if I didn’t know better, I would suspect that something serious was going on,” joked Daniel when Ethyl returned.
Ethyl managed a weak smile. She intertwined her arm with his and the two walked. “Daniel, I had a call from Doctor Muller earlier today,” she said. “He says the MRI you had last week is showing a small mass behind your right eye... he thinks it might be cancerous.”
“Great...” responded Daniel.
“Daniel, he thinks it would be best to operate and remove both your eyes and replace them with prosthetics.”
“Marbles? No... I don’t want glass eyes.”
Ethyl sighed. “Daniel, if it is cancer the surgery could save your life. And your sight’s been gone for over four years now.”
Her assessment did not sit well with Daniel. He pulled away. “Aunt Ethyl−it’s just not fair!” he shouted, slamming his walking stick down on the ground. “I always hoped that someday, I’d get my sight back... that something would change!”
Tears welled in his eyes.
“You don’t know how many times I’ve wished that I could see again... if only to find the man who did this to me and my father. I want so bad, to pay him back for all the pain he put into my life. And if they take my eyes I’ll never get that chance.”
“I know dear,” she counseled, softly. “But we have to think about today and what’s best for the future.”
Daniel began to laugh sarcastically. “Some future... marbles for eyes−being blind forever. That’s not exactly what I hoped for. You know, I used to dream... that someday... maybe you and Nanobytes would come to my rescue... that there was a miracle in waiting behind this great company of yours. I realize now, that after four years that was too much to hope for... I guess it was just a stupid dream.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Daniel. Dreams are important. Even the ones that fail. You know, I’m probably to blame for your thinking that. After all, my dream’s been this company. It’s all I talk about. It’s been my entire life, my sole purpose. When I started Nanobytes my plan was to change the world. To cure everyone... to save people. It just turned out to be a lot harder than I anticipated. And now I feel I’ve let everyone down.”
Daniel shook his head. “So, why does it have to be this way, Aunt Ethyl? Why do we give up? What stops us? What stops the dream? I mean, even now, I don’t want to give up... after all I have been through I don’t want to give up.”
Ethyl squeezed his hand−her touch reassuring him. “I know,” she confided. “Giving up is never easy.”
Daniel turned toward her and smiled. “You know what really would have been cool?”
“No, what?” she asked.
“To see you and Katie. To see your faces. To see you smile... and laugh. God, I would give anything for that. I mean the two of you have done so much for me and I have no idea what you look like. I hate that. It’s not fair. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” answered Ethyl.
“So, when do they want to operate?” he asked, accepting the finality of the situation.
Ethyl didn’t respond. Her mind was racing a mile a minute and she couldn’t answer. With her arm linked with Daniel’s she just kept walking, mulling over the same thoughts in her mind: Was she giving up? Was she? Nanobytes wasn’t a dream. It was more−much more. She’d built it to help people−to cure them. They were right on the cusp. But if she gave up now−who would know? Who would know? Who would know?
Noticing her silence, Daniel turned toward her−her breathing was off. He prodded her. “Aunt Ethyl? You’re not saying anything. What’s up?”
There was still no response and he prodded her again. “What gives, Aunt Ethyl? For as long as I can remember you’ve always been there with a pep talk − a rah, rah, rah, pushing me on − but now? Why are you so quiet?”
Ethyl couldn’t answer. She wanted too, but she couldn’t bring herself to express the war of thoughts raging in her mind. Fearful of the consequences, she just kept walking, taking step after step, contemplating her options in silence. Exasperated, Daniel pressed harder−his voice becoming emphatic. “Aunt Ethyl? What is it? Why won’t you answer me?”
The response that finally came was low and strained, barely a whisper. “There might be another way.”
The words inflamed Daniel−his excitement surged. “What? Tell me! What???”
Ethyl was doomed and she knew it. Drawing Daniel to a nearby bench, she instructed him to sit. She then sat next to him and spoke quietly in his ear with a voice that was dry and shaky.
“When you came to live with us four years ago,” she began, “I was intrigued by your maladies and I couldn’t let it go. I knew that something had to be done. So I had you tested−more than once. And I started manipulating your DNA strands, combining them with embryonic T-cells and nanites to see what was possible. Worse yet, I began channeling funds from my company and utilizing the efforts of my staff to figuring out how we might cure you. For the longest time I didn’t think we’d be able to do much. Things didn’t go well. But in the last six months we’ve seen a huge breakthrough. At least I think so. But nothing’s been tested. I’m not sure...”
“Not sure about what?” asked Daniel.
“If it will work,” she responded. “The procedure is radical ... and possibly dangerous.”
“I don’t care,” said Daniel.
“That’s because you are young−you think you’re invincible. Daniel, the procedure is beyond any medical boundary known today−it borders on science fiction. It combines DNA from animals and insects, and utilizes a new nanite power source, a rare isotope that we’ve barely tested. It’s years away from clinical testing...”
“So why are you telling me now?” asked Daniel.
“Because it’s now or never and I may never get another chance. I’m being pushed out, Daniel. The backers supporting this company are unhappy with my lack of progress. It’s all about money. They want to sell Nanobytes to the highest bidder. And when that happens my research will end. I will be replaced and everything I’ve dreamt and worked for will be gone.”
Daniel jumped to his feet. “Then use me!” he exclaimed. “Use me, Aunt Ethyl... before it’s too late. Please!!! I would rather try anything than to have to give up my eyes. And if it doesn’t work − they can always operate and take them out! What do you have to lose?”
Ethyl swallowed hard. “But what if I make things worse? How would I explain that to Katie?”
“Katie would understand. And you won’t fail,” said Daniel, emphatically. “I know you. And I’ve heard what others say about you. Do you know that behind your back they call you Dr. Einstein. They think that because I’m blind I can’t hear, but I do.”
“That’s just foolish banter.” said Ethyl.
“No, it’s not,” replied Daniel. “They know you and they respect
you. If anyone can do this, it’s you. Now please − take the chance. I want to see more than anything. It’s worth the risk. You’ve already done all the work−it’s time, Aunt Ethyl. Put your genius to the test!”
* * * *
It was dark in the lab with the exception of the overhead lamps that illuminated the operating table where Daniel lay. It was what Ethyl wanted. No one else was to be involved with what was about to transpire. She had even dismissed the night watch, telling them to take the night off. This was to be her affair and hers alone.
Dressed in hospital garb, like a surgeon operating behind a mask and cap she injected Daniel with a mild sedative, wishing him pleasant dreams as he faded into unconsciousness.
She then went to work.
Chapter 6
Nanite by Nanite
The night air was cold as Mickey drove down from San Francisco to San Jose. It was getting late and he wasn’t quite sure where he was going. He had already been forced to make two stops, one for a gun and some coke, the other for a knife. The first he got from a friend of a friend whom he did time with in Indiana, the other from a Big 5 sporting goods store. The gun was a Kimber semi-automatic with the serial numbers filed off and a silencer that cost him sixteen hundred cash; the knife was a six-inch fixed blade buck knife used for skinning and gutting deer. He would have preferred an eight inch blade, but beggars can’t be choosers, and he figured it would slice and dice just as easy.
Using the GPS on his phone, Mickey found Dr. Curry’s office on Jackson Street; a two-story medical building not far off the freeway. He pulled in and checked out the place, looking to see if there were any security cameras or alarms−as luck would have it there were, three of them. He cursed. How was he going to get in and find Daniel Raye’s address? He couldn’t afford to get caught or leave a trail−not now. It was then that fate stepped in; a van pulled into the parking lot. Mickey noted the signage on its side. It was a janitorial service−Dury Cleaners Home & Office. Mickey glanced at his watch. It was nearly 10 PM, and he wondered how long it would take to clean this place−a couple hours maybe. He snorted some coke and waited.
