He failed and it showed.
Jess sighed. “You didn’t understand any of that, did you?”
“Nope. But I think you are talking about the Tots, right?”
“Tots?”
“Yeah, Tater, Spud, and Junior. Yours is Junior, Tycho has Tater, and mine is Spud.”
“You named them?”
«Duh! Why wouldn’t he?»
“Well, sure. Why wouldn’t I? How else are we going to tell them apart?”
“Mr. Cooper, biologically speaking, they’re completely identical, there is no telling them apart.”
Coop paused, looked from Jess to Tycho, and back. “Isn’t that true of you two, also?”
“I…” Jessica stammered before she fell silent.
«I want to try something. Back me up. Point to each of them and call it by name.»
Coop shrugged and pointed at Tycho’s fuzzy golf ball that she was now cradling in her hands. “That’s Tater.” He felt… something. Dyrk had done something. But incredibly, Tater had perked up at the use of its name.
«Next one.»
“That’s Junior.” He pointed to Jess and on cue, her critter stuck its head out of her pocket and scrambled up her shirt to climb onto her head. “And this guy is Spud.” Coop reached up to pluck Potato’s offspring, or diploid, or whatever from behind his ear, but at the use of its name (and another twinge that Dyrk was doing… something), it had jumped to his shoulder and was scampering down his arm and then back up to repeat the move on the other side.
“Fine, you’ve named them. Whatever. The point is, I think we should stay. They’re yet another thing that needs to be studied, and there’s no better lab anywhere on Earth than what I already have here.”
“Except, we kind of promised it to Al,” said Cooper.
“Who’s Al?” asked Tycho. “Do I know Al?”
“I told you about him,” said Coop. “He’s an alien crime boss, but otherwise a really helpful and delightful guy. I’ll introduce you next time he drops by.”
“Why would an alien crime boss just drop by?”
“Well, for one thing, he owns this place and everything in it. And he wants to sell all this science stuff that Jess is so attached to.”
“Because I need it. And besides, he hasn’t even secured a buyer yet. He’ll get over it.”
«Yeah, sure, because that’s how crime bosses roll.»
“The point is, you still want to stay here on Titan.”
“More than ever.”
Coop shrugged. “And you really can’t do this work on Earth? I mean, we’ve got enough money to buy whatever you need, don’t we?”
“We have money?” asked Tycho. “Do I have money too? And if so, how much?”
«Aww, our little girl is a mercenary. I guess that fits in with the whole war machine persona, right?»
Coop opted to ignore both Tycho and Dyrk, at least for the moment.
“Maybe. If it were for sale.” Jess sighed, a weary and depressed sound. “A lot of it is Box-design, unlike anything anywhere. But it’s not just the equipment. It’s… no one back on Earth is going to take me seriously.”
“C'mon, you can't believe that. Your treatment of Potato’s virus is responsible for curing three terminal people. You’re going to be celebrated.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
In answer, Jess pointed to Tycho and then to herself.
“What? I don’t get it.”
“I look like a pretty teenage girl, Mr. Cooper. I’ve been grappling with ageism and sexism my whole career, and I’ve just taken a huge step backward. The research community is going to take one look at me and any credibility my past accomplishments had earned will go right out the window. I’ll never get the chance to continue my own work. Others will push me aside and take it over.”
«Unless she stays here.»
“Unless you stay here. Unless we stay here. Okay, so I guess that’s settled.”
Jessica’s frustration melted away. “Really? You… you’ll stay?”
Tycho shrugged. “My schedule's wide open and I don’t have anywhere to go. I mean, you told me everyone I knew is gone. And if I stay, maybe you’ll be able to recover some of my memories.”
Jess patted Tycho’s hand. “I will. I mean, I’ll try. I promise.”
“Dyrk and I talked it over earlier,” said Coop. “There are some things we want to explore, and you know, get to know one another better, outside of the crisis mode we’ve had since all this started. So, yeah, we’ll stay. At least for a while.”
The next morning Dyrk prepared and served breakfast for everyone. They ate at the large table in the middle of the laboratory so Jess could hook Tycho up to some machines. Coop ate a second serving, which was close to acknowledging that the viral echo was becoming a really good cook. He didn't want to actually tell him, for fear of it going to Dyrk's head. Which of course was pretty much his head.
As he gathered up the dishes, Coop walked behind Jess and cleared his throat. It was time to broach an uncomfortable topic.
He whispered, “You know the Box will come back, right?”
Jess set down her tablet. “Yes. As long as we have Potato, they’ll keep coming. Al bought us some time, but not enough. We need a solution.”
«We need an arsenal.»
“Dyrk says we need more guns.”
Tycho snorted then paused, confused by Coop's suddenly nervous expression.
He glanced over to the examination table where Tycho had so recently been strapped down, and where Potato had, effectively, given birth to three duplicates. The original, which had been so animated these last few days, hadn’t moved an inch since producing the Tots. If anything, it was more of a lump than ever before. It was weird.
“Not to worry,” he said. “Dyrk and I talked about that too, and we came up with a plan…”
Chapter 31
Three days had passed since the trio had decided to stay on Titan. Jess was happy with the accommodations, but then she'd been living there for months prior to her experiments taking off. And too, being so focused on her work she'd had no interest in anything approaching a creature comfort. Coop, on the other hand was used to a certain amount of luxury, at a minimum the aesthetic and ease of a well-equipped trailer. Tycho had no recollection of what she liked or wanted, but was heard to remark that as she'd been lying in a hospital bed since arriving on Titan maybe a change to something a little nicer would be a good idea.
The solution, as suggested by Dyrk, was to call upon Al since the crime boss seemed to have his fingers into so many different pies. The xenon hadn't even blinked, which is how Coop found himself in the garage that morning watching Al's associates unloading new furniture and supplies from a pair of large transports.
“We really appreciate you letting us stay, and for bringing all the supplies,” said Coop. “The Box weren’t exactly the best decorators.”
Al favored him with a smile. “Happy to help. Besides, I’ve already made a fortune off of your misfortune and now, as an investor, I stand to make astronomical sums if Dr. Acorns develops any medical breakthroughs. It’s a win-win scenario as far as I’m concerned.”
“Well, it helps a lot. I just hope we can make progress before the Box come back.”
“Let me worry about them. You have inspired me, Cooper. I no longer fear the Box, and that is a gift beyond price. For the time being, you should focus on helping everyone recover. And make sure Dr. Acorns keeps working.”
“As if I could stop her.”
“That’s good. How is the young lady, Tycho, doing?”
“Oh man, that girl is like a sponge. She follows Jess around and learns anything and everything she can. Science. How to run the machines. You name it. Maybe it’s because she’s a blank slate in the cognitive department, or maybe she was already a genius. Who knows? Either way, she’s doing well.”
“Very good to hear. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go, Cooper. But I’ll sto
p by to check on you and my investment soon.” Coop glanced up and realized the work crew had finished unloading, carried furniture and other boxes inside, and had piled back into their respective transports. Al walked to his vehicle and Coop returned inside the habitat so the Clusterian and his associates could open the garage and depart.
He found Jess and Tycho in the main laboratory with Potato and the Tots. The doctor had them on the examination table where she and Tycho had hooked up a series of leads to each of the now cantaloupe-sized aliens.
For their part, the Tots seemed to be doing their best to tie the leads in knots by running around in circles. Potato, however, lay completely dormant.
“Can’t you give them a sedative?”
“No. I tried. It had zero affect. But if they don’t stop running around, I may give myself one.”
“I think they’re fun. And fascinating,” Tycho opined. “They grow so fast.”
“But how do they grow? They don’t eat anything.”
Jess shook her head as she tried to hold two of the Tots still. “I don’t know. It’s one of the many fascinating mysteries about them. They are capable of physical growth without any source of outside energy or nutrition. It shouldn’t be possible, but they do it.”
“Do they have different temperaments?” asked Coop. “I mean, right now, does one seem to be the ringleader?”
“Even though you named them, I still can't tell them apart when they're all together,” said Jess. She looked to Tycho. “Can you?”
The girl shook her head. “Nope.”
«I can. They seem to have a rotation. It's like they’ve been taking turns with each of you these last few days.»
“Dyrk says he can tell them apart and that they’ve been rotating amongst us.”
Jess glanced up. “Really? That’s worth considering.”
«Why?»
“Why?”
“Because, the Tots are identical down to the cellular level. I’d like to understand what Dyrk can sense that allows him to differentiate between them. But not right now. I need to finish this scan before I tear my hair out.”
“Okay, we’ll come back to that. What’s wrong with Potato?”
“I don’t know. And it bugs me. Ever since it produced the Tots, it’s been lethargic. Worse, its vitals are low, like it's shutting down. I did an electroencephalogram on Potato and it shows little activity.”
“Well, what does the little guy have to think about?”
Jess shrugged. “That's just it. When I compare it to the data that Caja had compiled—”
“Who's Caja?” asked Tycho.
“One of the Box that had another research habitat here at the ranch.”
“Caja was a jerk, but not as much of a douche as Pudełko.”
“Okay, then who's Pudełko?”
“The other Box researcher in the other habitat. Except both of those habs are rubble now. You can see them if you look out the port of the far airlock.”
“Yeah, because jerk and douche imploded their buildings before running home like babies.”
«Well said, Ben.»
Jess rolled her eyes. “As I was saying, Caja's data showed a history of this same kind of minimal EEG readings. Potato's brain activity picked up when I began showing it films. But now, everything seems to have been dialed back more than a year, to before I arrived here and began my work.”
“Why not just put Potato back in the film alcove in the playroom and let him soak up a couple hundred movies again.”
“I might, but not before I've finished my tests. I'm still trying to get EEGs of the Tots for comparison. They've got a lot more going on, and none of them have had any stimuli but us. If they'd just sit still long enough for me to hook them up…”
«Why doesn't she just ask Tycho to hold onto two of them at a time?»
Coop scratched his head. Thoughts of discretion and valor bounced through his mind. It was something he'd have to explain to Dyrk. Later.
“Well, I’ll get out of your way. But… when you have a minute, I want to run an idea by you.”
“About what?”
“About how to get the Box to leave us alone. Permanently.”
Dinner had been incredible. Dyrk had dug through some of the supplies that Al had provided and created something that looked like a bland protein loaf in a lump of carb paste but tasted like Beef Wellington and Yukon Gold mashed potatoes. Everyone had seconds. Conversational topics had included Tycho's plans for decorating her room and some of the common areas, lovingly detailed without pause while she shoveled dinner into her food hole and chewed around her words. Jess reported that, as best she could figure things, Potato had regressed to a state identical to where it had been a year ago and the previous century — which is to say an immortal lump. And Coop and Jess finally explained to Tycho about Dyrk, what he was and how he'd come to be. Throughout the explanation, Tycho's mouth had hung open. It was the only time she'd stopped eating.
After dinner, while Tycho volunteered to do the dishes, Coop took Jess to the communications center.
“What are we doing here?” Jess asked.
“I told you Dyrk and I came up with a plan, right?”
“Yes.”
“Do you trust me?”
“I trust you. But I find your judgement to be highly suspect.”
«She’s not wrong.»
“That’s fair. But we gave this some thought. Now I just need you to contact the Box.”
Jessica’s eyebrows shot up. “Isn’t that what we’re trying to avoid.”
“Not exactly. We’re trying to avoid the Box killing us. But if my plan works, and it will,” he added quickly. “We’ll be able to get them off our backs. Forever.”
Jess crossed her arms. “What’s this plan?”
«She looks a little skeptical. Is that normal?»
In my experience, women are often skeptical of men making big promises. And to be fair, it is usually justified.
Coop laid out his plan. Jess asked some good questions, but in the end she relented.
The doctor sat down at the communications terminal. “Who should I send it to?”
“Is there a directory?”
“I’ll check.” Jess poked around the computer. “Yep. But it isn’t very large. Let’s see… yeah. This might work. There is a Box named ‘Apoti’ and her title is—”
“Her?”
Jess gave Coop a cold look. “All Box names are inflected for one of five genders. Most are gender neutral, though that can change if they alter their avatars. Apoti is marked as feminine. Now, as I was saying, her title is ‘Research Director.’ Based on what I know of the Box, that would be an important position.”
“Okay. That sounds like our best bet.”
Jess typed out her message.
From: Scatola
To: Apoti
Hello. My name is Theca. I live on Titan and some lady handed me a fuzzy little animal and told me to contact you. She said its name is Potato. It's totally cute. And she said I could ask you for a reward if you wanted it back. Her letter said to come here and message you from this account. I guess I’ll hang out for a bit. You know, this place is kinda nice. So, message me back.
Jess finished typing and sat back in her chair. “Your message makes me sound like an idiot.”
“That is part of the plan.”
“Okay. Well, it could take hours or days for them to respond. And I have work to do.” Jess stood up and made it half-way to the door before the comms suite beeped, announcing the arrival of an incoming message.
From: Apoti
To: Scatola
Dear Theca, Thank you for contacting me. You are correct. Potato belongs to us and we would be willing to offer a reward for its safe return. Please let me know what you desire as compensation for keeping it safe and returning it. I can arrive on Titan in two days. I await your urgent reply.
“Well, well,” Jess muttered. “It worked.”
Coop shrugged. “Phase one, worked. W
e still have to pull off the transfer.”
“Right. What should I say?”
“That's the easy part. Tell her we want the Box ranch free and clear and all the equipment in it. Tell her if she signs it over, we’ll happily return Potato to her when she arrives.”
Chapter 32
Two days — and another incredible dinner and one culinary disaster that Dyrk was still apologizing for — Apoti arrived at the ranch in a sleek ATV unlike anything on Titan. As he'd waited for the atmosphere to change out, Coop gazed at the vehicle with an admiration that men have shown for well-crafted transportation since the days when the first Romans detailed their chariots with gold filigree of flames. He wondered if the Box had brought it with her.
Coop stepped into the garage and waited for Apoti to exit the vehicle. He and Dyrk had spent the previous two days working on his disguise for just this moment. Dyrk hadn't begrudged the time. They'd agreed he needed to learn how to finesse Coop's DNA. It had hurt like hell at first, but Dyrk quickly got the hang of it. And the results were incredible.
Now, as a result, he stood in the garage looking like a 5’5” man of East Asian heritage. With a lethargic blue-green striped alien tucked under his left arm.
“Dyrk, I just want to say again that this is the best makeup job I’ve ever had.”
«Thanks, Coop. Now you just need to give the performance of a lifetime. Because if you don’t, we’ll all be killed at some point in the not-too-distant future.»
“Thanks for the reminder.”
«My pleasure.»
Coop sighed.
The door of the Box vehicle lifted and Apoti stepped out.
«Well, that’s new. Wow.»
“Mmm, hmm.”
Apoti was different. Apoti was — in Coop’s estimation — smoking hot. If one found mechanical avatars attractive. Which he was almost certain he did not. Almost.
The Box stood six feet in height and had a slender build. Her faux-flesh was supple and held a pigment that reminded Coop of fresh cut cedar. It was exotic and alluring.
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