“Matthew died a few minutes ago,” she said.
CHAPTER FIVE
The memorial service for Matthew James Tucker was held the next day in a large mausoleum a ten-minute drive from Silversky. John, the security agent from the day before, drove Erin and Israel to the service in a black Chevy Tahoe that, unless Israel missed his guess, was armored and fitted with bullet resistant glass. He thought that was a little curious, but said nothing thinking that maybe this was the only vehicle that had been available.
The weather was clear and cool, but the overall mood was more suited to clouds and chilled mist. The mausoleum was roughly the size and shape of a basketball court, with its own parking lot and another of the orb-pyramid sculptures just outside the main entrance. This one was made of brushed steel, though, and sported a foot-high flame at its peak rather than a fountain. Inside, there were small niches from floor to ceiling that were about a foot square and deep. Some held small urns with polished gold nameplates below them. The majority were empty.
There were dozens of people in attendance, most of them with the appearance of trained, disciplined men and women with more experience at this kind of thing than they necessarily wanted. Israel saw the short, bald man- Stone was his name -that had tased him back at the dungeon, but couldn’t work up the desire to speak with him.
“Should we be here? They keep looking at us like we did something,” Erin said.
She was right. Israel had caught more than a few sidelong looks and whispered conversations that seemed directed at them. “He was one of their own and he died saving us,” Israel said. “They’re probably wondering if we were worth it.”
Erin looked down at the floor. “I guess,” she said. “I don’t get it, though.”
“What?” Israel asked.
“Why? Why would he do that? He could have just left.”
Israel looked at her. Her brow was furrowed and he could see the genuine confusion on her face. “He was a decent guy doing his job. Protecting people, I guess. Just doing what good people do.”
Just then, a voice echoed through the room. “Eyes front,” it said, “and pay tribute to a fallen warrior.”
It was Stone. He was standing on a raised platform near the entrance. With the double doors of the mausoleum held open, he was back-lit by the blue sky and the flame capped metal pyramid. On a pedestal beside him was the black and silver urn that held Matt’s ashes. Stone placed a hand on the urn as though it were his friend’s shoulder instead of his remains. Smoke from the cigar he held between two fingers of that hand curled up and around his face as he spoke.
“Matthew Tucker was a brave lad,” Stone said. “His life was one of duty, courage, and service. Though the fickle fates denied him a family of blood, I loved him as a brother and was honored to have lived beside him through both fight and revelry. I know many here felt the same.”
Stone’s voice was strangely accented, Israel noticed. There was a lot of British English to it but something else underneath that. Some kind of eastern European, he thought. It was as though he had been born speaking one language and then developed an English accent over that.
Stone reached into his black suit coat and produced a large silver flask. He gave the cap a practiced spin and raised it high. “To Matthew,” Stone nearly shouted in a voice thick with emotion. “Save a seat at the table, brother!” Stone put the flask to his lips and didn’t stop drinking until it was empty.
Others stepped up after Stone to speak, tell stories, and remember a man who had been well-loved. Israel and Erin remained silent and stayed to the back of the room. When it was over, they looked for John, hoping the security man was ready to take them back to Silversky; Israel and Erin were both getting tired of the not-so-subtle looks they were getting. They found him near the back speaking with a pair of women. As they drew closer, Israel noticed they were identical twins.
They were both petite, light skinned, and had the same chocolate brown eyes and distinguished nose over full, wide lips. Both had lightly tanned skin and coffee-colored hair. That, however, is where the resemblance ended.
The woman to Israel’s left looked up at him through a pair of black-framed glasses sitting on a nose that glittered with a crystal piercing in one nostril. Her hair was long and pulled back into tightly curled dreadlocks that were bundled into a ponytail extending from the crown of her head. She was dressed in a black lace dress that was accented with silver beads. Silver and crystal jewelry dangled from her neck, wrists, and ears.
Her sister- for what else could she be -Israel thought, was a study in opposing style. She wore no glasses. Her hair was straight and hung in a well-trained sheet that touched the shoulders of her practical black pant suit. A single gold chain with a sparkling diamond at the base of her throat was the only adornment Israel could see.
“Israel, Miss Simms,” John said, “I’d like you to meet the doctors Michelle and Allison Brandt. They handle all the stuff we need smart people for,” he said.
The woman without glasses, Michelle, was standing next to John and shot a light, quick elbow into his ribs before extending her hand and saying, “It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
After shaking both women’s hands, Israel said, “Are we about ready to head out, John?”
“Actually,” Allison said, “Olivia wanted us to go ahead and get started on your testing. I was hoping John could bring you over to our lab and I could get some blood samples. Nothing too crazy.”
Israel smiled at her. “You’re our physician?”
Allison returned the smile. “Doctor, historian, and all around life sciences junkie. Olivia likes to hire multi-taskers. I promise to be gentle.”
Israel looked around. More than one set of eyes looked away as he turned. “Fine,” he said. “Is that okay with you?” he said to Erin.
She shrugged. “Whatever.”
He looked back at Allison. She was watching him intently. “Let’s go,” he said.
The doctors had driven their own car, so they left while John, Erin, and Israel climbed back into the Tahoe. John and Israel sat up front. Erin seemed to prefer having the backseat to herself.
Silversky, as it turned out, was a seven-hundred acre estate located about half an hour southeast of Atlanta. The northern border of the property adjoined the Panola Mountain State Park and had its own private road that connected it to Georgia Highway 155. John took great pride in informing them that the estate was absent from any map or GPS database.
Israel laughed softly. He couldn’t help himself.
“What’s funny?” John asked.
“My life has become a comic book,” Israel said. “Thing is, if I were to write about all this I’d probably win a Pulitzer.”
“That’s not a story you want to tell, Israel. Secrecy is a big part of all this.”
“Yeah, I picked up on that.”
“Why?” Erin said from the back. “Why not tell folks what’s out there?”
“Lots of reasons,” John said. “First and foremost, we have to avoid panic. No offense to the journalist in the car but could you imagine the reaction of the general population if FOX or MSNBC or whoever got their hands on this story and started putting the fear spin to it like they do most things? Think about one of those squidheads you saw splashed across a big screen for all the world to see. Think how Joe and Jane America would react to that. Mass panic.”
“If it bleeds, it leads,” Israel said.
“It’s more than that. The terrifying and unexplainable appears and suddenly religions are screaming end of days, politicians are going at each other like pit bulls to lay blame and grab credit where appropriate. Hell, a black president and a health care overhaul shut the country down because nobody up there on Capitol Hill cares about anything but their own agenda. Could you imagine the panic if you start throwing things like this, things that we can’t entirely explain, into the pot?”
Israel shook his head. Would it be that bad? He wasn’t sure that he entirely agreed with John
’s opinion but he also had to admit that it wasn’t that far-fetched. “How does the government fit into this?” he asked.
John shifted slightly in his seat. He watched the road for a few seconds before answering. “I’m not really supposed to discuss that, but I think I can say this much: There is a government branch that is detailed with handling what they call ‘previously unknown and exotic threats.’ On paper they’re called the Department of Genetic Research and Investigation, but we like to call them the WSS- Weird Shit Squad.”
“And Sentry does what, exactly?”
“Officially we’re scientific and threat analysis consultants. Truth is, we provide the WSS with a certain level of plausible deniability if things ever come to light.”
“Seriously?” Erin said. “Doesn’t that just mean you guys get blamed if something goes tits up?”
John nodded. “It could. The thing, though, is that Mrs. Warburton has been at this a long, long time. The word is she has enough dirt on the DGRI and various other power players that they wouldn’t dare cross her.”
“I get the impression that she’s not to be screwed with,” Israel said.
“No,” John said. “No, she is not.”
They had come to the outskirts of the city proper and they fell into silence as John guided them off of Interstate 20, onto Interstate 85, and finally onto Piedmont Avenue and through the downtown district. A few minutes after that, they were pulling into an underground parking structure that was attached to a building that easily stretched twenty stories skyward. A large sign in the front read ‘Artemis Industries parking only.’
Once they had parked, Israel felt Erin’s hand on his shoulder. He looked back and saw that her eyes were slightly wide and she glanced nervously outside the car. He understood.
“Hold up, John,” he said. “Where exactly are we going?”
The security man looked over and seemed to note Erin’s expression. After a moment, he said, “Oh, dammit, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. You guys probably aren’t too thrilled with underground spaces just at the moment, are you?”
“Ya think?” Erin said.
He nodded. “Okay, look,” he said, pointing. “The elevator is right there. There are no less than four security cameras between here and there, plus one in the elevator itself. Those cameras are monitored by actual armed guards, not just recorded. It’s broad daylight and,” he pulled open the left flap of his jacket and revealed the heavy pistol that was hanging there, “I’m packing.” He delivered that last line like he was an actor in a bad action movie. Israel noticed a fast, faint smile cross Erin’s face and then vanish.
“I think it’s safe. If they were going hurt us, they would have done it by now,” he said.
She nodded and they all got out of the car. Israel kept a casual expression as they walked to the elevator, but in one corner of his mind he couldn’t help but think of the last parking structure he had been in and the deep, violet eyes that had been searching him out. When the well-lit elevator opened and they all stepped in, he exhaled a small, silent breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
The elevator took them to the fourteenth floor and opened into a small lobby. A woman was seated at a receptionist’s desk with a wall behind her that was covered in textured, royal blue wallpaper and flanked by a heavy set of frosted glass doors to either side. A silver, back-lit sign was on the wall above her. It read ‘Artemis’ and was constructed so that there were two backwards-arching arms after the letter ‘s’. It gave the overall impression of a drawn bow with the word as the arrow.
They stepped off the elevator as the receptionist looked up. She was an older woman with a thick build, dark skin, and kind, playful eyes. She saw John and said, “Oh, lord. The Twins said we had people coming in, but they didn’t say who was bringing them.”
John grinned. “Lorrie, my sweet, why would you say such a mean thing to me? You know it hurts my heart.”
“Boy, if I wanted to hurt you, you’d be hurt. Who are our guests?”
John introduced Israel and Erin. Lorrie smiled politely and said to Erin, “I hope this one didn’t try to charm you, honey. He’s a slick piece of work.”
“Aren’t they all?” Erin replied with a blank expression.
Lorrie studied her curiously for a moment and then looked to John. “Allison’s waiting. I’ll buzz you back.”
“And Michelle?”
Lorrie smiled. “Her office, Casanova.”
There was a loud click and John pulled open one of the glass doors. As they passed through, Israel glanced back at the receptionist’s desk. From this angle he could see behind the desk and spotted a very large pistol hidden behind the desktop within easy reach for Lorrie.
The doors opened onto a wide, T-shaped hallway that extended the length of the floor. Glass-walled laboratories were on either side of the long arm of the T. One was filled with a combination of lab equipment the likes of which you might see in a medical or biology lab; The other was filled with electronics, computers, and the kinds of things Israel had seen in the only physics class he had taken in college. There was a set of double doors at the end of the long arm of the T and windows overlooking downtown at either end of the shorter arms.
In the biology lab, he could see Allison putting on a white lab coat and collecting supplies from a metal cabinet. He discovered he enjoyed watching her move. She was petite but the black lace dress she wore hugged her shape in the best possible way when she stretched to reach something on the cabinet’s top shelf.
“This way,” John said and led them to the doors that opened into Allison’s lab. “Here ya go, Doc,” he said. “Two customers for the blood bank.”
“Thanks, John,” Allison said with a wide smile. “Chelle said to send you down to her office. You two don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“That’s a short list,” John said, grinning. Allison made a playfully ugly face at him.
John turned to Israel and Erin. “I’m going to be down the hall. I’ll come back in fifteen or twenty minutes to collect you.”
After he had gone, Allison said, “Okay, who’s first?”
Israel was surprised when Erin stepped forward and said, “I’ll do it.”
Allison said, “Great. I’ll need to take about five tubes of blood. I’m going to run a variety of tests that will give me both genetic profiles as well as-”
“Allison,” Erin said, interrupting her, “you could explain all that and I still wouldn't know what the hell you were talking about. How about you just do what you need to do?”
“Oh,” Allison said. “Okay.”
Israel watched as she directed Erin to a small stool at one of the tables. The doctor expertly tied a rubber tourniquet around Erin’s arm and had her squeeze a small rubber ball. She had a collection of small tubes laid out neatly on a folded white towel. Israel knew that these would be inserted into a small, hard plastic sleeve with a needle in it once that needle was in Erin’s vein. As if on cue, Allison raised the sleeve and the needle shone for an instant in the light from the windows on the opposite wall.
The light on the tiny sliver of metal sparked a memory in Israel’s mind: another needle, held by Mr. Stone, dull in the California moonlight, and descending toward his neck. He had said something then, apologized and said…
“Doctor,” Israel said, “what does ‘Awakened’ mean to you?”
The doctor froze for a second, the needle in Erin’s arm, when she heard the question. It wasn’t much of a reaction, but enough that Israel and Erin both noticed.
“Uh mm,” she said, “not anything it wouldn’t mean to anyone, I guess. Why do you ask?”
Erin started to say something, but Israel shook his head. He was sure she was about to call the doctor a liar, but he didn’t think it was time for that yet. “Something Stone said when he knocked me out. He said he was sorry but I had been Awakened and that was why he was kidnapping me.”
Allison started inserting tubes into the plastic sleeve. Dark blo
od filled them slowly.
“That’s unusual.”
“Is it?” Israel asked. “I mean, you guys tell us that we were originally taken by people who wanted to use us for genetics experiments, then he says that, and now you’re drawing blood for genetic profiles. What exactly are you looking for?”
“Yeah,” Erin said. “And you can tell us everything this time.”
Allison finished with Erin’s arm and removed the tourniquet after pressing small piece of gauze into the bend of Erin’s elbow. “Look,” she said, “you guys are into something here that’s…well, insane is really the only word that comes to mind. I’ve seen the Progeny do some horrible things to people. We need to make sure they didn’t do something to you while at the same time try and discover what makes you special to them.”
“Something to us?” Erin said. “Like put something in us?”
“Exactly,” Allison said, looking up at Erin and smiling. “We need to make sure you’re safe.”
Israel noted the doctor’s reaction to Erin’s question. It wasn’t quite sincere, but he kept silent and filed the fact away for future reference.
Allison turned to him. He thought he saw some conflict in those soft brown eyes, but when she smiled at him, he felt his suspicions waver. “Mr. Trent,” she said, gesturing to the stool.
“Israel,” he said.
Her smile widened. “Allison,” she said. “Are you ready?”
Israel grimaced. That somehow felt like a loaded question.
CHAPTER SIX
“They’re all a bunch of lying fuckwads,” Erin said.
They were back at Silversky. The sun had set a few minutes earlier. Israel and Erin had taken a short walk on the grounds to get away from any prying eyes or eavesdropping ears. On the ride home, Israel had started to feel mildly feverish, as though he were coming down with something. He hoped the walk would help with that, as well. Behind them, the mansion and the landscaping around it were lighting up as night fell. Both Erin’s and Israel’s features were cast in heavy shadow. A faint chill grew in the night air.
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