“I understand. And again, thanks.” Bugs somehow managed to nod his head—another human gesture. Adamarus checked his watch, “Okay, I’m going to meet them.”
---
Grace was nervous as hell. She was wearing a gray business suit and hoped it was appropriate. She knew that the Loud didn’t use clothing and wondered what they thought of it. She glanced over at Nero in the seat next to her. He looked so handsome in his brown wool suit, white shirt and tie. She realized that he had not said a word since getting in the limo. He had to be nervous, too.
The black limo rounded the corner and in the distance, she could see the alien ship and the dome. Nero noticed it as well and his eyes got wide. He looked afraid. Grace tried to distract him, “Hey, what two questions are you going to ask him…or ‘it,’ I guess, since they don’t have sexes?”
Nero turned to his mother and shook his head, “Can’t tell…it’s a secret.”
“Hmm,” replied Grace.
The limo made its way to the large dome. The limo’s door was opened and Adamarus and two other uniformed men came out to meet them. Grace realized that her knees were weak and walked carefully, determined not to stumble.
Adamarus embraced her, “You up for this?”
Grace replied, “Absolutely,” but her voice said otherwise.
Adamarus stared at her for a moment then knelt down to Nero. “How about you, tiger?”
“Okay, I guess” but his voice caught.
“What will you ask Bugs?”
Again Nero shook his head. “Can’t tell. Secret.”
Adamarus’ brows went up, “A secret, huh?” He brushed some imaginary lint off Nero’s coat. “Well, okay. Let’s do it then.”
He led them into the entryway. The two uniformed men followed them in but remained on the lower level as they stepped onto the moving walkway. When they reached the top, Adamarus looked down the 100-foot walkway at the door. Behind the two uniformed guards, he could see that the light was red. As always, the guards faced away from the door and could not see this. Adamarus paused and turned to his wife and son. “Now there are a few things I need to warn you about. The Loud evolved on a low gravity planet with very thin atmosphere.”
“We know all that, Dad. The Loud are loud,” Nero said in an exasperated voice.
“No, son, you think you know but you don’t. Even though we will be in a soundproof room, sound comes through and there’s more than just the sound. There’s a concussion which can make you feel uncomfortable. It can cause everything from a headache to chills. You may feel the hair on your arms and neck stand up, or it may feel like your insides are vibrating.” He looked at both of them. They both looked pale. Well, he thought, meeting an alien being is not something you do every day.
“Dad, do we call him Bugs or Mr. Bugs or…”
This got a smile from both Mom and Dad. “You can call him Bugs.” Adamarus answered.
He glanced down the hall—the light was still red. “Son, when we go in, you and your mother will have to drink this stuff. It…prepares you for meeting aliens,” he said lamely. In a way, that was sort of true. “No big deal, just wanted you to know about it ahead of time.” He glanced back down the hall, still red. It seemed like the guards were looking at him strangely. Come on, Bugs, he thought.
Nero started walking down the hall before Adamarus could stop him. “Let’s just do it, Dad.”
Damn, Adamarus thought. He looked at the door, the light was still red. He started walking, trying to catch up. Grace followed. Nero was almost sprinting down the hall. Adamarus realized he would have to run to catch up with Nero and this would look strange. He slowed down.
Grace caught up to him. “Adamarus, what’s wrong?”
“Ah…” he couldn’t explain now, the guards were too close, “nothing.”
Nero reached the guards, stopped and saluted. The guards smiled and saluted back. Behind them, the light was still red. He and Grace were now ten feet from the door. He tried to think of something, some way to buy more time. He could say that he forgot something and had to go get it…but what?
They reached the guards, time was up. The guards nodded to them. Adamarus blurted out, “Oh damn…wait. I forgot…” What? Damn it! “Ah…”
“Sir?” The second guard gave him a strange look.
The other turned towards the door to press the button. He saw the light but now blocked it from Adamarus’ view. “Now that’s damn strange,” he said, then turned and gave Adamarus a look Adamarus could not read.
Adamarus stammered, “Ah…if you mean…”
The guard interrupted him, “You forgot something?” Behind the guard, the door started to open, “Well, sir, you can’t blame it on age anymore.” The guard winked and moved aside for them to enter.
With his mouth half open, Adamarus numbly walked forward. On passing through the door, he glanced at the button. It was green.
---
Shelly White was the star of the show. A fact she reminded everyone of daily. She had busted balls—literally—to become the anchorwoman on the GSN evening news and she didn’t take shit from anyone now. She entered her dressing room, gazing at her name on the door and the star under it. Yes, she thought. She had held the job for almost three years now but never tired of admiring her name on the door of the largest dressing room on the set. She didn’t “go on” for another two hours, but she wanted to get going early – it was taking her makeup gal, Dolly, longer and longer to get it right. She would have to talk to Dolly soon, but not today.
Dolly swept in. They exchanged pleasantries and Dolly got to work on Shelly White, star news anchorwoman on prime time for the largest news network on Amular.
As Dolly was putting on the fine line below Shelly’s eyes, Shelly’s private com unit rang loudly. This startled them both as this was Shelly’s private line and only used by her two lovers—who knew better than to call her in the afternoon—and by John Darter, the President of the studio. It was a loud harsh ring, but not as loud as Shelly’s scream as she watched the eye liner Dolly held jump up and across her forehead. She gave Dolly a withering look and got up to look at the com unit’s display screen. The number calling her was not one she knew—a wrong number then. She sat back down and rolled her eyes as Dolly started to remove the line across her forehead. After a minute, the com stopped ringing.
---
Harrington cursed as the com unit continued to ring. She wasn’t answering. She hung up and looked around. She was at a pay com unit on the wall in front of a convenience store mostly hidden from view by a large delivery truck. If anyone who knew her saw her using a pay com unit, it would look very strange. And, when the timing coincided with the “leak”...game over! What to do?
Her instructions from Radin indicated that this call and its timing had the highest priority. She had to get through. As she pondered her dilemma, the driver of the delivery truck came out of the store and got behind the wheel. Shit, Harrington thought. She would be completely exposed if he pulled out. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the driver, but instead of starting the truck, he picked up a clipboard and began checking off items. What to do? What to do? She started dialing the number Radin had given her again and that’s when she had an idea.
---
Dolly had finally got the line off of Shelly’s forehead and had started on her eye again when the com unit rang a second time. Again, both women jumped. Dolly and her eyeliner struck again–this time on the cheek. Shelly just closed her eyes. She was so mad she was almost shaking. But she had to admit, it was her fault for not unplugging the com unit. Wrong numbers always called back. But this time the com unit was silent after the first ring. Ring once then call again? That used to be a signal between her and her estranged husband, perhaps he might have this number. So when the com unit rang again she picked up.
“Donald? This better be good, you know you are not supposed to use this number. How the hell did you even get it?”
But the voice on the com unit
was not Donald’s—it was female. “I am employed by the Star System President and I am “leaking” information. This is an unauthorized leak of top-secret information. Do you understand?”
Shelly’s eyes went wide. “Who is this and how did you get this number?”
“You know better than that, Shelly. I’m only going to say this once so listen carefully.”
Shelly quickly looked around for a recorder she used to make unauthorized recordings of conversations, but it was across the room hooked up to her regular com unit so she grabbed an envelope to write on but then couldn’t find a pen. She whirled around and snatched the eye liner from Dolly’s hand, then pointed to the recorder and motioned for Dolly to get it. “I’m listening,” she said.
“The person the aliens brought to the ER was Captain Adamarus Maximus who is still alive. But there’s much more. They made changes to his DNA.” Shelly began frantically writing on the envelope while Dolly fumbled with the recorder trying to set it up. The voice continued, “These changes reverted Captain Maximus’ age from fifty-two to thirty, stopped his cells from aging and supercharged his immune system. In other words, he will never die of old age or sickness, Shelly. He is immortal.”
Shelly stopped writing and rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, honey! What BS! Call the tabloids! We only…”
The caller interrupted her, “This story can be confirmed by two other sources. Counting me, that’s three.”
That gave Shelly pause. “Go on,” she said doubtfully. The recorder was now hooked up.
“You can check the records if needed, but Maximus is fifty-two years old. Your second source is your ex Donald Little at CRN News. He got through security and into Adamarus’ hospital room and got a really good look at Adamarus. But with Adamarus looking so different, Donald didn’t recognize him. Call him, talk to him, but don’t give your news scoop away. Immortality, Shelly! This is huge!”
“Your third source is Beverly Reed at Hillcrest’s Molecular Biology Clinic – she analyzed a sample labeled CAMBS-3 – that stands for Captain Adamarus Maximus blood sample three. She doesn’t know who it's from, but she does know that the cells in that sample have stopped aging.” The caller paused to let that sink in then continued, “Why doesn’t Reed know who the sample was from? Because it was classified. Why? Immortality equals power, Shelly, so all of this is being kept secret. The aliens have the secret of immortality and they want to give it to all of us, but certain people in our government don’t want this to happen. This is on the level. Don’t blow it! If I don’t see this story everywhere in the next hour, then I’ll be calling 'you know who'.” The caller hung up.
Shelly stared at the com unit for half a minute before hanging up. “You know who” obviously referred to her arch enemy, ex-husband and news anchor of that “other” news station and the first person she now needed to call, Donald Little. She pulled out an old tattered address book and flipped through it until she got to the ‘L’s. Then she picked up the com unit.
“CRN News, Little here.”
Shelly’s mind was racing now. She needed to get the information without giving away the story. I’ve got to do this just right, she thought. “Donald, this is Shelly.”
“Where’s my check?”
Shelly rolled her eyes, “In the mail, babe.” She was thinking fast, Okay, first buy their time, “Got a second?”
“Well sure. What’s up?”
Then butter them up. “Donald, how in the world did you sneak into Hillcrest Hospital around all that security and get into that room?”
“Well, I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you. Professional secrets you know. And how did you find out about that?” Donald had kept that encounter under wraps. His headline story from that escapade had been a real stretch but he had gotten away with it. He smiled to himself… the injured man had said two words before Donald had been grabbed and thrown out, “They’re loud.” Donald had stretched those two words into the first real story on the aliens and it had given them a name that had stuck! He didn’t want anyone digging around in that area.
“Well Donald, I’d tell you how I found out about it but then…I’d have to…”
“…kill you,” Donald said at the same time she did.
“Professional secrets you know.” She heard a grunt from the other end of the line. “Hey listen, I need to check on something. You know, you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”
Donald smelled a story but knew Shelly wasn’t going to give it to him if she could help it. She was too good. “Yeah, sure. And just what do you need scratched?”
Shelly’s eyes narrowed. She needed to play this just right. Some harmless misdirection was needed now, “Rumor has it that this guy’s head was half torn off and that he had green alien bandages holding it together. You know the story CNT ran the first day. When you were in his room, did you see anything like that?”
“Well yeah, that’s no secret. Old news. He had this green gel like stuff on the left side of his head—just like CNT reported it. So what’s up here?”
Damn, Shelly thought, she might have to risk giving too much away. But not yet. First she’d try directly asking him but with a smoke screen attached. “Yeah, but along with that, talk has it that this guy was not in his thirties as reported, but over fifty. Personally I think it’s pure crap but I thought I’d ask you as you seem to be the only reporter who ever saw him.” She crossed her fingers and closed her eyes… I’m wishing…come on sweetie, tell me something I don’t know!
Donald thought back to that night. Damn, what game was Shelly playing? Oh what the hell, he thought. “No, Shelly. I’d say that was definitely BS. I got a pretty good look. The guy was around thirty—as reported.”
Yes! Shelly silently shouted. She replied in a bored voice, “Yeah…I thought so, just more of the same old, same old. People talking shit, hoping to get a bone.”
“Yeah.” Donald sounded suspicious but it didn’t matter. He had no clue.
“Got to run. Nice chatting with you.”
“Ah huh.”
“Ta da!” She hung up but kept the receiver squeezed between her shoulder and ear as she grabbed her personal data assistant and turned it on. While it started up, she dialed Hillcrest Hospital and asked for Beverly Reed in the Molecular Biology Clinic and was transferred. Again she crossed her fingers and tightly closed her eyes. Wishing! Come on honey, be there!
“Hello?”
“Am I speaking to Beverly Reed?”
“This is her receptionist. Can I help you?”
“I hope so. This is Shelly White of the GSN Evening News and I was hoping I could chat with Dr. Reed for a few seconds—reference for a story I’m doing.”
“I just love your show, Ms. White…”
“Oh, please call me Shelly. And what’s your name?”
“Okay, Shelly. My name is Sarah Ricker. I watch you every night! Listen, let me see what Dr. Reed is doing right now.”
Shelly waited, fingers crossed, eyes tightly closed. Wishing!
“This is Dr. Reed.”
“Dr. Reed, this is Shelly White of GSN,” first buy their time, “Do you have a moment?”
“Sure. How can I help you?”
Based on what Shelly was hearing in this lady’s voice, the buttering up wasn’t going to work on this person, at least not yet. Try to grab her interest. “We’re doing a special on several rare medical cases. I can’t divulge more than that during production, but we are hoping to get some experts on film talking about these cases.”
“Really? I’m afraid I don’t have any rare medical cases here. I don’t have any patients. I work in the lab.”
Now she was going to have to roll the dice – all or nothing. “Actually, we sent you a sample a couple of weeks ago which you analyzed for us. It was…” she paused as if looking it up, “yes, it was labeled CAMBS-3.”
“Oh, yes. I remember that one. Never seen anything quite like it. Completely undetectable. So…that was from one of these rare cases?”<
br />
Okay! Shell thought. But what does that mean? Her mind raced. Make her think you already have the thing you want. “Yes…I have a report right here.” Seeing nothing else within reach, Shelly grabbed a paper bag from yesterday’s lunch and squeezed it several times – it made a crinkling noise that, over the com unit, might sound like she was flipping through papers. A couple of uneaten fries fell on the floor. “Very impressive work.” She squeezed it once more as if turning a page, “Indeed. How long have you been doing this?”
“Oh, gee, almost seventeen years.”
“Impressive. Now your report…” She squeezed the bag again. “…does it…conclusively show what it states…let’s see….” She shook the bag and threw it into the air. Another fry flew out and landed by the phone. She crossed her fingers, closed her eyes tight and prayed. Come on. Come on… “…oh, now where is that…” The bag landed on her desk making more noise. If this Reed lady didn’t pick up the conversation now…
“You must mean the telomeres’ deterioration rate?”
Shelly sighed with relief, “Why, yes, that’s it.”
“Well as you can see, it was too low to be detected. How old was the subject, Ms. White?”
Uh, oh…danger. Dodge and punt! “Oh, please call me Shelly. May I call you Beverly?”
“Of course, Shelly.”
“Now I’m just a reporter, not a scientist. What does this really mean?”
“Well, certainly the sample came from an infant or someone very young. Telomeres, the end caps of DNA which hold it together, duplicate almost perfectly just after birth, though normally you can detect some deterioration. It’s rare that we can’t detect it at all, but it happens sometimes with infants.”
Shelly’s heart pounded. Or 52-year-old captains who’d been made immortal by space aliens, she thought. She needed a little more. “I can see that but, well, what would you see in an older person…say someone, oh…fifty-two years old, or…maybe thirty?” She grabbed the bag, gave it another squeeze for good measure.
“Well at the age of thirty, you would see a deterioration rate of somewhere around twenty percent. Mileage will vary, but that’s about the age when the body turns the corner from developing to getting old. This deterioration is why we age. At fifty-two years old, the rate might be around eighty to ninety percent. But for a newborn baby, the percentage is very low, sometimes, as in this case, it’s completely undetectable. Of course it is there, it’s just that…”
Encounters (The Spiral Slayers Book 1) Page 12
