“Water is in the cooler,” the clerk pointed with his nose, “back that way. Bandages are down in the center aisle, just ahead. You can get your Checkers from me when you cash out.”
Jameson moved down the center aisle. There, a woman and her young child shopped. The woman carried a basket and struggled to keep her little boy by her side. The boy, who Jameson guessed to be about six years old, whined and tugged a small red water pistol from his mother’s hand. “But I really want it.”
The mother shook her head and took back the toy. “I told you, I just don’t have the money for that. I wish I could buy it for you. Really, I do. Maybe in a few weeks.”
“It might not be here in a few weeks.” The boy pouted and stomped his feet.
Jameson couldn’t ignore the hurt in the mother’s eyes as she tucked the water pistol out of the boy’s reach. He stepped in, taking the toy in his callused hand.
The boy looked up at him, upset. “No! Don’t take it away.”
Jameson crouched down. “I’m not taking it away. I’m going to buy it for you.”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “You are?”
“If your mom says I can.”
The woman nodded, her eyes misting and her lips trembling with happiness.
Jameson handed the toy gun to the boy.
“Wow! Thank you so much!”
“You’re welcome. Now, be good for your mother. Protect her.”
“I will.”
The mother thanked Jameson and continued shopping. Jameson took a few packs of bandages from the shelf and moved toward the back coolers for the water. He smiled when he heard the boy laughing and ‘ka-powing’ as he pretended to shoot. Then, Jameson paused when he heard the clerk shouting.
“I’ve told you a hundred times, I don’t serve sickos. I won’t be having Malady contaminating my store. Now get your infected ass outta here!”
Jameson whirled around to see a dirty man in rags pacing near the front counter. He could smell the body odor from across the room.
“Ka-pow! Ka-pow!” the boy shouted at the man.
“How dare you point that thing at me?” The infected man lunged. “Give me that!”
“No! It’s mine!”
He pulled a rusted knife and pressed it under the boy’s chin. “I said give it to me!”
The mother wailed. “No! Please don’t!”
The boy screamed in terror. Jameson sprang to action, rushing down the aisle. He raised his shotgun, turned it around and clubbed the attacker in the head. Blood sprayed across the floor. The man fell to his back, his eyes glazed from the blow.
“Get the boy out of here,” ordered Jameson to the mother. “Now!” The mother pulled the boy close and hurried out the store without a word or a moment of hesitation.
Jameson heard the door’s bells jangle again and felt satisfied that boy was safe. He looked down at the groaning man and pressed his boot onto his throat. “You’re the worst kind of person.”
“Why?” The man struggled to speak under Jameson’s boot. “Because I have Malady?”
“Because you would hurt a child.”
“Hurt?” The man choked on his guiltless laughter. “I’d KILL the Lesser! I’ll kill ALL the Lessers!”
Jameson stomped as hard as he could, caving the man’s throat and shattering the bones of his neck. A quiet minute passed as he stood over the corpse, lost in the fog of his ire.
“JAMESON!” Luna’s shouting pulled Jameson from his darkness. “Shit, what happened? Are you okay?”
“I didn’t come in here for this. But I always seem to find some crazy fucking bastard that I have to put down like a mad dog.” He put his shotgun away and his shoulders fell under the weight of his actions. “I’ve been killing since I was that boy’s age. I saw myself in him.”
“I know, Jameson.”
“There is no crime in killing to save those who can’t save themselves. Malady is the predator and you and I refuse to be prey.” She pointed to the dead man on the floor. “That’s not an innocent person. That’s Malady right there. And it’s dead. You did the right thing. You always do.”
Jameson drove the ambulance through the labyrinth of intersections, bringing the group on the correct path to Professor Crimm’s address. As he suspected, Albert was way off.
Luna sat with Albert in the back, giving Jameson a moment of quiet focus as he navigated the streets of Karma.
Albert whispered to Luna, “Jameson’s pretty rattled and I know it’s not because I got us lost. What happened in the store?”
Luna sighed and held up a finger, telling him to wait a moment. She asked Jameson, “How about some tunes? A little music to clear the head.”
Jameson switched on the radio and turned up the volume. A rock song with a fast, wailing guitar, filled the ambulance. Luna moved close to Albert and spoke softly. “Back at the store, one of Gemni’s psychos was about to murder a child.”
“What?”
“Jameson took care of the problem. He killed the bastard. But when there’s a kid involved, it gets to him.”
Albert eyed the Void Land drifter driving his ambulance, then looked back at Luna. “What’s his deal, anyway?” he asked, still whispering. “Honestly, he scares the shit out of me sometimes.”
“He’s had it rough, Albert. His mother suffered from Malady and died when he was little. His father was his world, but he lost him.”
“He died, too?”
“No. When Jameson turned ten years old, he and his father, Eric, were playing catch in Greely Park, you know, enjoying the birthday. Well, four Malady punks surrounded them. Quell junkies, dealers. Eric refused to buy any drugs and the men got pissed. They pulled knives and jumped Jameson’s dad, right in front of him.”
“That’s terrible.”
“Gets worse,” added Luna. “Eric was armed. He pulled his gun and shot the men dead, saving his and Jameson’s life. But Eric had a nasty wound on his arm and the two hurried to Oasis Hospital to check for Malady infection. The nurses pulled Eric in for immediate testing while young Jameson played at the playground in the Oasis courtyard.”
“Was his dad infected?” asked Albert.
“Don’t know. Jameson stayed at the playground all afternoon, but his father never came back for him.”
“You’re kidding? Where did he go?”
“Like I said, don’t know.”
Albert snapped his fingers. “That’s why he wanted to search the hospital records.”
Luna nodded. “That’s why we came back to Karma. He believes there’s a trail that he is now wise enough to find.”
“What do you think?”
The ambulance came to a jarring halt. Jameson turned down the radio and said, “We’re here.”
Luna secured her rifle and nudged Albert. “I think it’s time to get back to business.”
They walked up the front steps of Crimm’s apartment building and entered. Years of neglect made the hallway swampy, with mold and ancient air layered in ashy dust. The staircase creaked under their weight and Albert gripped the banister with both hands, fearing a sudden collapse. He said quietly, “I’m kind of nervous about meeting Professor Crimm.”
“Why is that?” Luna asked. “You two are scientists. That’s common ground.”
“He’s special. He’s the only scientist who works for both Oasis and Graves Enterprises. Dealing exclusively with Carmen Victoria and Marcus Graves. He’s highly trusted.”
“But why?” pressed Luna. “What’s he bringing to the table that others don’t?”
“He is the man who taught Graves about genetics and the place we all know as Oasis Hospital used to be his academy. He sold the grounds to the Victoria’s and helped them design the hospital campus. Karma City owes a lot to Professor Anthony Crimm.”
“If he’s so great,” piped Jameson, “why does he live in Karma’s ghetto?”
Albert pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Good question.”
Jameson knocked on the door.
“Who’s there?” the old man called from inside.
“Jameson Shoals. My crew and I were sent by your ‘sons.’”
Latches and locks clicked open. The door squeaked on its rusted hinges. A man with fluffy white hair, curling mustache and oversized bow-tie greeted them with a quick smile. His pin-striped slacks bunched over his scuffed brown shoes. He adjusted his small glasses. “Hurry up and come in.” A tea kettle whistled from within the apartment. He scurried through the cluttered living room, waving the group to follow. “Close and lock the door behind you.”
The professor’s apartment, though messy with stacked books and papers, was a combination of a laboratory and residence. Couches, end tables, book shelves and picture frames surrounded a computer desk that held burners, vials, tubing, gauges and various charts, bottles and flasks. Professor Crimm returned from a small pantry to the right. He carried a tray bearing a decanter of hot tea, clean mugs and small pastries into a small sitting room. He put the tray down on a nearby table and regarded his guests. “Please have a seat and help yourself to tea and tarts.”
The three sat around the small table. Jameson replied, “Thank you kindly, professor.”
Crimm sat in a wide recliner and leaned back. “If my sons sent you that means you’re all here regarding the one called Gemni.”
“We were told to see you for information,” affirmed Jameson.
Crimm stared at them over the rim of his glasses. “Introductions first.”
Albert chimed in. “I’m Dr. Albert Walker. And I must admit, sir, it’s an honor to meet you and to be sitting in your home. And these tarts look delicious and the tea smells great. I enjoyed your publication on transposable elements and I had some thoughts about—”
Crimm cut him off. “It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Walker.” He pointed to Jameson and Luna. “You two would make fine additions to my team of hunters.”
“Kurt and his crew look capable enough,” said Jameson. “Luna Briggs and I recently encountered Gemni on a late-night train. He attacked the tribesman and detonated a bomb, destroying several cars and the East River Bridge. We ended up in Oasis Hospital and, as luck would have it, Gemni turned up there, too, somehow making the Malady Ward turn on the hospital staff. We tracked him to Undertown but lost him for a third time. We want to know what he is and how to stop him.”
“I can tell you exactly what he is. But first, I need to know if I can trust the doctor.” Crimm shifted his eyes to Albert. “Tell me your involvement in this, Dr. Walker.”
Albert squirmed in his chair. “I’ve recently resigned from Oasis Hospital to further my independent research against Malady. After witnessing the devastation at Oasis, I’ve been assisting Jameson and Luna in their pursuit of Gemni. I’ve made a discovery that has only created more questions.” He reached into his medical satchel and pulled out the specimen baggie. “My initial field examination indicated the presence of the Malady parasite in Gemni’s blood but in a bad way.”
Crimm pointed to the microscope standing on the nearby desk. “Have a look, Dr. Walker.”
Albert put on some gloves and wiped the blood onto a microscope slide, then placed the slide under the lenses and studied the sample. He gasped and switched on a projector connected to the microscope. After a few flickers, the projector threw an image on the wall. Jameson looked at the glowing scene of a magnified parasitic worm writhing around, noticeably agitated.
“This is a Malady parasite,” said Albert. “But it’s too active. Malady normally cysts outside of a host.”
“What does ‘cyst’ mean?” asked Jameson
“It means it curls up in a little ball and catches some Z’s while it waits to infect a host it can feed off of. Malady can remain in a cystic stasis for ten years outside of a host. That’s why it’s such a problem in the world today. This parasite is nearly an adult bordering stage three development; which is of great concern.”
Professor Crimm challenged Albert. “Why do you say that?”
Albert glanced up from the microscope. “If this entered your body, it would invade your brain cavity like a wrecking ball. You’d be thrown into an irreversible state of madness.”
Crimm went to a glass cabinet marked: CAUTION-PARASITIC SPECIMENS. He retrieved a small tube and removed the seal. The professor moved Albert aside and hunched over the microscope, working the tube’s invisible contents onto the slide. The group watched the projected image. There, two parasites reeled.
“The bigger one on the left,” Crimm explained, “is the Malady parasite you recovered from Gemni’s blood. The smaller one on the right is a common Malady specimen. Now watch closely.”
Gemni’s parasite thrashed about, as if communicating with the common Malady beside it. The common Malady slowly moved closer until it touched Gemni’s. The smaller parasite remained at the side of the larger, appearing submissive and protected.
“I’ve never seen two Malady parasites bond before,” Albert admitted. “Very strange.”
Crimm retrieved another vial and added its contents to the slide. “It’s about to get stranger, Doctor.”
A third parasite, with a serpent-like body twice as long, fell in with the others. Immediately, it attacked Gemni’s parasite. In a matter of seconds, it tore it in half. The smaller common Malady jolted as if in panic but was quickly ripped apart under the light of the microscope.
Jameson whistled in amazement. “I enjoy a good ringside bout, but what the hell just happened?”
Crimm grinned and returned to his recliner. He took up a cup of tea and a tart. After a few slow bites, he began his explanation. “The two parasites, Gemni’s Malady worm and the killer that I introduced, are twins; both engineered by Marcus Graves in his genetic experiment, Project GEMNI. GEMNI stands for ‘Graves Enterprises Malad-X Neural Implant.’ The killer parasite is called ‘Malad-X’ and it has one purpose.”
Albert pushed his glasses up his nose and stared at the image of the monstrous parasite. “To destroy Malady.”
“Indeed,” Crimm confirmed. He took another bite of his tart.
Jameson stood up and paced the room. “So, Graves has made a twisted cure for Malady? One worm to kill the other, is that it?”
“That was the goal of Project GEMNI, yes. But the first breed of Malad-X was technically a failure. The lead researcher for Graves Enterprises and trial host, Elliot Burroughs, was sick with Malady and offered to be the first human to receive Malad-X. The parasite awakened and took over his mind and body.”
Jameson ran his fingers through his tousled hair. “Awakened? I don’t get it.”
A glob of raspberry filling dripped onto Crimm’s shirt. He muttered to himself as he dabbed at it with a napkin. “Initially, Malad-X was created to enter a sick patient and kill the Malady, then die from exposure to the Malady waste toxins. That’s not what happened in Burroughs. The new parasite bonded with the Malady already present, as you’ve just witnessed, and from this union, was further enhanced to a kind of super-Malady.”
Albert clapped his hands. “A transmutation!”
“In a way, yes. The first Malad-X parasite developed into a breed of Malady stronger than I can express. It merged its neurons with Burroughs,’ enabling domination of the mind and body. With a full neurological bond complete, this terrible Malady parasite assumed full control, and astonishingly, consciousness!” Crimm looked at Jameson. “It awakened.”
“Unbelievable!” Albert whispered incredulously.
“I thought so, too,” agreed Crimm. “I was further astounded when I witnessed Burroughs, or Gemni as he now calls himself, escape Sable Tower. I saw the first turning with my own eyes.”
“Turning?” Jameson fought to catch up in the conversation.
“Yes,” concurred Crimm. “He can compel people with Malady to follow his commands.”
“We’ve seen that first hand,” added Jameson. “At Oasis, in the subway and again with the man in the store. He really can make the Malady-heads go nuts.”
“Yes. He turns them through mental pulses, an intense outward neural synapse that makes the Malady parasites in others bond to their host’s limbic system, which affects their behavior in the ways Gemni desires.”
Jameson sat back down and urged Crimm to continue. “What happened in Sable Tower?”
“Well, I should start with honesty.” Crimm cleared his throat. “Many years ago, I assisted Marcus Graves in the early genetic designs of Malad-X. The thought of creating a stronger parasite to kill the weaker was too ingenious to ignore. I worked the concept on the side while assisting the Victoria’s in establishing Oasis Hospital. In those days, I wanted to contribute to both efforts against Malady, prevention and eradication, in any way I could.
“Two weeks ago, I received a call from Marcus Graves. He said that at long last, the first Malad-X worm was ready and that implantation in his patient zero was to commence. I doubted this claim but nonetheless, raced to Sable Tower. I was delayed at a railroad crossing and was too late. When I entered the lobby, Elliot Burroughs emerged in a hospital gown, with intravenous tubing and EKG wires hanging from his limbs. He looked like a feral cat, wild-eyed and ready to slash. The Sable Guard surrounded him with weapons drawn but he raised his hands, as if ready to stop their bullets with his palms.”
Jameson noticed Crimm’s hands shaking. The tea cup rattled in his grip. The old man’s lower lip quivered as he carried on.
“As is the case with most citizens of Sable District, the security guards were already sick with Malady. Gemni sensed this and by his command, they aimed their guns at each other and fired. Gemni’s eyes glowed with a demonic orange light as their bodies fell lifeless. He knocked me down with incredible strength and ran out into the night.
“Moments later, Marcus Graves found me on the floor. He helped me up and for a long while, we stood in the lobby of his tower, neither of us knew what to say. But I recognized the severity of what we’d accidently created and I decided what I must do.”
“You came to this unlikely neighborhood,” finished Albert, “to establish a place where you could work to unravel Graves’ science.”
Karma City Page 6
