by George Wier
“I do know that none of this will make any sense unless I begin at the beginning.
“Before I do, I would like to clear something up. It’s a small thing, but important. That is, I have an inkling of what you might be thinking. Some kind of conspiracy theory, complete with government cover-up going all the way to the top, with the Army somehow involved and testing on private citizens against their will. Let me assure you that none of that is the case.
“Also, there’s the unspoken question of why bring Holt Gatlin here? Well, first, there is a loose cannon running around named Colby Dunross. A short, skinny fellow with dark sunglasses who considers himself some sort of spy. The intelligence that I have on him is that he is a ‘buff’ of some sort. He’s not affiliated with the government, nor the Army, for that matter. He’s just some guy. I don’t know exactly how he fits in, but he’s got resources of one kind or another. I think he’s after money, or something he can turn into money, or maybe he’s on a stupid quest. I believe that Dunross is dangerous.
“And then there is Pierce Gatlin. As you know, he’s Holt’s nephew. Pierce has gotten it in his head that he is going to inherit two million dollars. I don’t know where that came from, and I don’t care, but there’s enough uncertainty about his motives to prompt me to move Holt away from God and everybody.
“But then there is Amy.
“It’s an acronym. A-M-I. Advanced Microscopic Intelligence.
“No. Not an Army experiment. Not any kind of experiment. Just a phenomenon. A thing.
“And to tell you about it, I’ll have to take you back at least three thousand years.
“It has been with us, probably, since before man walked upright on two legs, if you believe your Theory of Evolution. When man first began to keep written records, it showed up in his histories―but it was here long before.
“In more recent times it has been right in front of us, but we couldn’t see it. It’s not a virus and not a bacteria. The best description is a symbiote.
“There are Chinese court records of a village that vanished on the edge of the Gobi desert, oh, three thousand years ago. Dinner was left sitting on the table, laundry was left hanging on the line, lambs wool left half-sheared. That kind of thing. No one knows what happened to them―where they went or what they did. They were there one minute and the next they were gone.
“No, Mr. Fitzbrough, they were not abducted by aliens.
“The same incident has occurred again and again throughout history. For instance, no one knows what happened to the Anasazi Indians of the Four-Corners area of Colorado, Utah, Arizona and New Mexico, but the circumstances were the same. It happened again at Jamestown, Virginia. That’s one of our anomalies of American History. Going further back, this same thing occurred in ancient Egypt, in Central Europe, and it is going on even today in parts of Africa. It occurs on the fringes of civilization, you see. As man comes forward and pushes the frontier forward, he encounters it again and again.
“It. I say ‘it’, but I began calling it ‘she’ after running across the acronym. ‘It’ became ‘A.M.I.’, which became the girl’s name ’Amy’, which became, simply, ‘she’.
“So what is she?
“You have to take it from the reverse.
“You have to begin with the question: ‘what is a human body?’ The human body is a composition of everything we, as a species, have defeated along the way. You know the old saying ‘the best way to beat them is to join them.’ That’s what we’ve done with every bacteria, with every virus, with every hostility our environment has thrown at us. Our bodies are composed of every malady we’ve run across. It’s like judo. In judo you use your opponents force against him. The same thing applies here.
“And when civilization pushes to the edge it encounters yet another thing that it has never come across before. It is a form of conquest, you might say.
“When the settlers at Jamestown encountered Amy, they tried to assimilate her. To defeat her with cellular judo, as it were.
“But Amy is different from anything we’ve ever encountered before. My idea―and I’ve had fifty years to work on this idea and I’m not fully satisfied yet―is that Amy is the slower version of us.
“That’s right. Us.
“She does the same thing. She uses her opponent’s force against them. She assimilates. She’s smart.
“The aggregate of cells that compose Amy disperse throughout a body as fast as blood can travel and as fast as RNA can transfer. She uses our bodies. She survives in our bodies. When our bodies are strong enough they fight her back with everything we’ve got. The toxin disposal system gets into high gear and we start coughing and discharging mucus. We get hives. The temperature of the body soars. The synapses in the brain begin short-circuiting and this manifests as madness―temporary insanity. The fight is so violently strong that the body uses itself up. And when it has done that to the uttermost extremity, it dies.
“Every one of the ten men and women who died south of Caddo Lake in the Summer of 1960, died because Amy couldn’t get a foothold.
“But Holt Gatlin―Amy is a part of him now, and I’m afraid she’s there to stay.
*****
Our drinks were gone.
The soda fountain girl was chattering away with the checkout lady across the store from us.
It was dark out and I was tired.
“Okay,” I said. “If Holt has got this thing inside him, that means that Willett and Dane have it as well.”
“No,” Dr. Carr said. “I tested them nine ways to Sunday. They don’t. I have an idea about that.”
“What’s that?” Jessica asked.
“Fear.”
“Fear?” Dane said.
“Mr. Fitzbrough, who would you want next to you in a fight to the death? Would you want someone fierce and fearless, or would you want a coward?”
“I was a coward that day,” Dane said. “I was scared out of my mind.”
“Me too,” Willett said. “Although I don’t like the taste of that word in my mouth. ‘Coward.’ We were kids. How the hell else were we supposed to feel?”
“I know,” Dr. Carr said. “I didn’t know it then, but now I can show that the only common denominator among the survivors of that day were that they were, each and every one, scared out of their wits.”
“So the cowards win,” I said. “‘The meek shall inherit the Earth.’”
“That’s one way to put it,” Dr. Carr said.
“There’s one problem with your whole theory,” I said.
Four pairs of eyes were on me, intent.
“What about Molly Sue Perkins?”
“Who?” Dr. Carr asked.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
I’ll tell you in a minute,” I said. “First, tell me how the Army is involved in all this, what Dunross’s angle is, how Pierce Gatlin could know about the two million dollars even before Holt knew about it, and how Holt could heal up so fast.”
“Damn,” Willett said. “How do you keep all that in your head all in the same instant, Bill?”
“Old habits die hard,” I replied.
“They’re good questions, though,” Dane said. “How about it, Dr. Carr?”
“Last one first,” Dr. Carr said. “Amy is healing Mr. Gatlin. When you compare his old x-rays, taken mere days ago, to the ones taken this morning, his fractures are healed. And apparently he won't have any scars. Also, he’ll probably live to be a hundred or more.”
“Okay,” I said. “So he’ll need that two million after all. Good. I like it when I’ve done my job well enough to take care of someone for the long haul. So how did Pierce know about the two million?”
“I have no idea,” Dr. Carr said. “I don’t trust that man. He’s a schemer. If you were to check into his real estate transactions, I’m sure you’d find enough to put him in prison for a long time.”
“Okay,” I said. “So what do you know about Dunross?”
“Not much,” Dr. Carr said. “Only that he tried to
kill me. I followed him yesterday from the hospital where he’d been hanging around asking questions of the staff―sort of like you, Mr. Travis―and I followed him to Holt’s house. I parked a block away and watched him. After he left I went up and looked around and found the plastic explosives on the doors. Which is why I locked the doors and the windows. That is one dangerous fellow.”
“So at least Pierce didn’t plant the plastique,” I said.
“No,” Dr. Carr said. “But he was in the car with Dunross, waiting for him to finish the job. I’m sure he knew what was going on.”
“Oh,” I said. “So Pierce Gatlin’s stock just dropped another few points. That’s if we believe you. Okay. What about the U.S. Army? I’m sure that someone, somewhere is going to be interested in all this. You were working for the Army in 1960, were you not?”
“Yes. I was working for the Army. I’ve long since retired. So did General Todd. By the way, coming back here after all these years was his idea.”
“Who the hell is General Todd?” Jessica asked. “Dad, I’m starting to get confused.”
“Me too,” I said.
“You will probably all be meeting him at some point,” Dr. Carr said.
“That’s enough,” Dane said. “I have to tell you that you’re not my favorite person, Dr. Carr. Probably not Willett’s either. So all the courtesy can go hang, alright?” As Dane spoke he kept his face passive and his voice conversational. He and Willett exchanged glances briefly and it was obvious that they were in accord.
“You still blame me for what happened in 1960,” Dr. Carr said. He was shocked. “I was under orders. I was just a kid out of medical school.”
“Nobody has to like anybody here,” I said. “But we do have to tell the truth. Aside from all the deaths, Willett’s and Dane’s ruined lives and the lives of their families, we want to know where all this ends, and how to end it for good.”
Dr. Carr sat back in the booth. We had him on the inside against the brick wall―a captive audience.
“Where it ends?” Dr. Carr said. “Ends?” his voice rose in disbelief. “Why, it never ends. You’ve got to see that! Not until Holt, or Amy, gives up every secret.”
Dr. Carr paused for a moment, and looked around the table from face to face.
“I thought you’d be able to see it right off. Right now Holt Gatlin is a vaccine. Later, down the road, when we can control Amy, Holt can go home for good. But until that day he’ll need to be where people like me can run tests on him. I can tell by your faces that you still don’t understand.”
“Enlighten us,” Jessica said.
“Holt Gatlin,” Dr. Carr said, “may very well be the cure for every disease, every cancer, every medical malady for the entire human race. He may very well be the answer to immortality.”
*****
“Who died and made you God?” Willett asked.
“I’m not playing God,” Dr. Carr said.
“No?” Dane asked. “Why don’t you try and explain that to my father. Oh, that’s right. You can’t. He’s dead. Or maybe you can call my mother in the nursing home and explain it to her.”
Dr. Carr’s face grew tense. A little vein in his temple began to do a slow dance and his face grew red.
“I did what I had to do,” Dr. Carr said.
“Where was your bedside manner?” Willett asked.
“Alright,” I spoke up. “It looks like you don’t have much of a fan club here, Doctor. I don’t know how you can mitigate the damage you’ve done―that is, if you want to even try. But that’s not up to me, that’s up to you and Dane and Willett. And also, as far as I’m concerned, it’s up to Holt whether or not he wants to be your guinea pig from now on. He looked sedated as all hell. Do you have him on something?”
“Not so much as a baby aspirin,” Dr. Carr said. “It’s Amy. She’s―there I go again―it has taken over his system while he’s healing. Holt’s mind comes and goes.”
“That’s for sure,” Willett said. “The only time he was lucid was when you were talking to him, Bill.”
“Okay. You’ve got some more explaining to do, Dr. Carr, but right now I want to see if Holt is lucid enough to make any sense. He has to be in his right mind to make any decisions for himself.”
“Wait,” Dr. Carr said. “Before we go, what about this Molly Sue Perkins? Who is she? I’ve never heard her name before.”
I regarded Dr. Carr’s face carefully. I was judging him.
“If I tell you, are you going to try to take her and turn her into a guinea pig as well?”
Dr. Carr’s steel-gray eyes peered carefully into mine.
“No,” he said. “It probably doesn’t mean anything.”
“No?” I said. “Alright. Molly Sue Perkins was the girl that Holt had with him in the boat the night that Army transport fell out of the sky. She lives at the State Hospital for the insane at Rusk, Texas.”
“With him that night? That close to the crash site?”
“Yep,” I said.
“I need to talk to her,” Dr. Carr said.
“Now who’s crazy?” Jessica stated.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Inside the foyer of the theater, Willett tugged on my shirt sleeve. I looked at him and got the idea he had something to tell me.
“Dane,” I said, “you go on in with Dr. Carr and check up on Holt. Jessica and I need to talk to Willett for a minute.”
“Fine,” Dane said.
“Be sure and zip up the outer plastic before you step through,” Dr. Carr said. “We’ll wait for you inside.”
Dane followed Dr. Carr through the door into the theater.
“What’s up?” I asked Willett.
“How much of all that horseshit are you swallowing?”
“You mean the stuff about Advanced Microscopic Intelligence?”
“That and everything else. I have to tell you that for the last couple of days I’ve had to restrain myself from ripping that bastard's head off.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’d probably feel the same myself. Something has to account for Holt’s healing up so fast. Also, when we get the time, let’s talk about that accident of his.”
“Sure thing,” Willett said.
Dane poked his head back into the foyer.
“Bill, Willett. I think you’d better get in here.”
*****
I felt it in the pit of my stomach: a sudden sense of wrongness that made me feel queasy for a moment.
We didn’t waste any time getting through the door to the theater.
“Shit!” Willett said.
“Yeah,” Dane replied.
Dr. Carr was already to the orchestra pit, running around and parting the ripped and shredded plastic like a madman and peering inside.
A side emergency exit that I hadn’t noticed before had been forced open.
“He’s gone! He’s gone!” Dr. Carr was yelling.
“No shit,” Dane said. He stood there next to us calmly and watched Dr. Carr with the coolness of a bored football coach.
I made for the side exit. The door was ajar by a foot. I stepped through and into the pale light cast by a sodium arc lamp across the street and down the block.
No one. Nothing.
Willett was at my side in an instant.
“He’s the incredible disappearing man, ain’t he?” he said.
“You got that right.”
*****
“No!” Dr. Carr was yelling. “This isn’t right. They promised me! Amy was mine until I was done with her.”
“Where did they take Holt?” I asked him. I was doing my best to keep from grabbing the old codger and shaking him.
Dr. Carr was collapsed on a dusty theater seat. He looked very old and worn out. Gone was the glint in his steely eyes. Gone, also, was every ounce of self-possession he might have had before.
“Somebody is asking you a question,” Dane said. He squatted down on his haunches in front of Dr. Carr, reached a hand up and prodded Dr. Carr’s shoulder with
a lone, thick finger. His voice was gentle but firm.
“I don’t know,” Dr. Carr said. He ran splayed fingers through his silver hair. “I just don’t know. It depends on which one took him.”
“Which one?” I asked him. “Do you mean Dunross and Gatlin? Or do you mean the Army and that General you were talking about?”
“General Todd,” Dr. Carr said. “It was either General Todd―it probably was General Todd.” Dr. Carr stood up suddenly. Dane almost fell backwards, but he kept his feet.
Dr. Carr went from grief and loss to abrupt anger. He reached inside his coat and ripped at something. A strip of cloth and a small black button came away in his hand. He dropped the black button on the floor and crushed it under his heel.
“What the hell?” Willett exclaimed.
“A bug. The price I had to pay to keep Amy.”
“Wait,” I said. I felt the sudden jolt of anger rising inside me. “You mean keep Holt. Get a hold on yourself. Amy is a theory. Nothing more. You said it yourself. You mean the Army has been listening to everything we’ve said?”
“Yes,” Dr. Carr said. “I’m sorry.”
Dane stepped forward and punched Dr. Carr in the stomach, hard.
The man folded and fell back into the theater seat. He began gasping and holding his stomach. The veins stood out on his forehead and his face took on a purplish hue.
“I bet that felt good,” Willett said.
“It sure did,” Dane replied.
“Alright, fellas,” I said. “Dr. Carr, if the Army took Holt Gatlin, where is he?”
It took a full minute before I got an answer, and when it came I wasn’t the least surprised. I should have expected something like it.
“He’s got a... mobile command post. Not far from Mr. Mahoney’s place. To the... east.”
“There are no roads east of my house,” Willett said.